The Influence and Love of My First Grade Teacher

My five-year-old was reading aloud to me yesterday when she stopped herself and said, “Mama, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to read like you do.”  Relief and hope seemed to fill her when I told her, “Guess what?  You’re already ahead of me.  I didn’t even know how to read when I was your age.  When I was in school, most of us (including me) didn’t learn to read until first grade.  So you see, one day you are definitely going to be able to read as well as I can.”

Miss Pam taught me how to read.  She is the one who unlocked and opened wide that door for me—and not only for me but for probably about a thousand children.  My first grade teacher is retiring this year after forty-two years of teaching first grade.  Let me say that one more time—FORTY-TWO YEARS TEACHING FIRST GRADERS—always first graders since August of 1973.

And I bet we can count on one hand how many times Miss Pam raised her voice in those forty-two years.  You know when you’re about to experience pain, such as getting stitches or a big shot, and the nurse tells you to think calming thoughts (like thoughts of the beach)?  I could just think about Miss Pam’s voice—kind and calming.  I can still hear her reading Charlotte's Web to us at the end of the day, her voice, like gently rolling waves, rolling over little malleable hearts.  Everyone with whom I grew up knows that voice.  When I hear preaching on the balance between love and discipline, grace and law, I think of Miss Pam.  She held that balance beautifully in her voice (and in her heart too, of course).

Even though I couldn't yet read, I walked into that first-grade classroom with a good bit of six-year-old confidence because I had known Miss Pam (or she had known me) since I came out of the womb.  She was in our church family and was married to Cousin Morgan.  Since her husband and I shared the same name (that of his father as well as his great-grandfather who was my great-great grandfather Morgan Adams), I was feeling pretty good about the fact that I was going to be special to my first grade teacher right off the bat.  And that’s what every kid wants—to feel particularly noticed and loved by their teacher.  While I felt especially loved by Miss Pam every day of that whole year, I know that every little child in that classroom felt especially loved too.  That, my friends, is a spiritual gift—to be able to encourage children of every temperament and leave each of them feeling valued.

In short, Miss Pam lives the gospel day in and day out for her students.  What does it mean to live the gospel?  It means you show love, as Christ did, to a whole lot of undeserving “knuckle heads.”  Or as the Apostle Paul would explain, “For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: ‘LOVE your neighbor as yourself’” (Galatians 5:14 NIV, emphasis mine).

I’m sure she would shake her head in disagreement, but Miss Pam’s character gives me a precious glimpse into the character of Christ.  When I read these words in Philippians, I think of her:   “Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit.  Rather, in humility value others above yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of others.   In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus . . .” (Philippians 2:3-5 NIV).

Miss Pam is truly humble and joyful—not selfishly ambitious or overly concerned with herself but always genuinely interested in the other person, comfortable in her own skin and finding true contentment in loving the children to whom God has called her.  I said it back in 1988, and I’m still saying it:  “I want to be like Miss Pam when I grow up.”

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, “Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.”  He took a little child whom he placed among them. Taking the child in his arms, he said to them, “Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me . . .”
(Mark 9:35-37a NIV).

What Are We Doing this Summer?

Every teacher LOVES May, right?!  When I was teaching in a traditional school setting, I remember the joy of finishing grading that last stack of essays and final exams, lots of goodbye hugs to students headed off into their own summer bliss, and the feeling of freedom heightened by the spring breeze and the sun on my face.  Even though the students I teach now don’t “leave” for summer, I still have this “May optimism.” A change in the routine is coming.  We can now make time for some new things in our homeschool days.  Before my non-homeschool readers check out of this, I’d like to remind the moms that all moms are “homeschool” moms in a sense because we are all teaching our children new things, introducing them to new ideas, sparking their creativity, and engaging them in conversations.  (And by the way, we and our children retain and learn much more through conversational learning than lectures any day!  So my point is that you are, of course, teaching your children!)

So here’s our summer homeschool plan:  (For new readers, my children are ages 1, turning 4, & turning 6 this summer.)

1. Spanish: I have been thinking about this one all year.  With all the other school things we’ve been doing, we haven’t been able to squeeze it in during the regular school year, so “summer Spanish” here we come!  Macki helped me find a great deal on this curriculum Spanish for Kids: The Complete Collection that we think will be great for little ones.  (We also got the flash cards and the lesson plans.)I’m really looking forward to this because my Spanish has gotten lost in my brain files somewhere over the past twelve years.  When I spent the summer in Spain, I could carry on whole conversations with Spaniards (because of course, I wasn’t going to make it for a summer without being able to talk to people, so learning the language for conversation was a must  – haha!).  Now, it’s much like all my atrophied muscles that I once used in sports—if you don’t use it, you lose it!
2. Unit studies based on the girls choosing: I typically try to do this when we are not in our “regular” curriculum year with our homeschool program with which we are members (and sometimes then we do this too).  For example, I ask them, “Girls, what do you want to learn about next week?”  Most recently, my oldest had just seen a bird nest full of newly hatched birds, so she responded, “Baby birds.”  We went to the library and found fun storybooks as well as science books on baby birds to study.  We will watch YouTube videos about baby birdies, and we will probably try to build a bird’s nest out of pine straw (that was her idea).  (She will quickly learn that birds are much better at building nests than we are!)  She loves to draw too, so I’m sure she will be drawing pictures of birds every chance she gets.  Of course, we will be looking for birds and trying to classify them when we’re outside.  Unit studies are my girls’ favorite thing to do, and it’s so inexpensive!  (Pinterest is a huge help with this too.  You can check out my Pinterest boards to see what we did for our farm unit and igloo unit.)
3. One hour (at least) of playing outside per day: Some of this time involves directed things from this great resource Slow and Steady Get Me Ready.  This book is amazing for developing fine and gross motor skills for babies up to five-year-olds.
   
4. One hour of reading per day:  Most of the reading will involve me reading to them.  We do a mix of levels—mostly picture books.  (At the library I just learned that there's a "My First Little House on the Prairie" series for young children.  You can check it out here:  A Little Prairie House.) My oldest is a beginning reader, so she will be reading aloud to me as well as to herself during her quiet hour (a/k/a baby nap time).
5. Memory Work (this takes about five minutes): During our regular school year, we do Bible verses, poetry, and other things from our homeschool program such as Presidents, geography, books of the Bible, etc., so now we are back to focusing on our catechism and learning hymns (particularly because we go to a contemporary church where they don’t hear them often enough to know them by heart).  An added bonus of the hymns is learning new vocabulary and fun theological discussions.  (My children love this cd The Kids Hymnal: 80 Songs & Hymns.)
6. Phonics and math games: Both curricula that we used this year came with MANY games, so we will be playing these all over again for review and added help!
7. Letter writing: My girls love to send mail to people, and my oldest needs to work on her handwriting, so letter writing is my sly, coercive plan for slipping in handwriting practice!
   
   
   

I recognize that I’m a little ambitious, and I’m not planning to do all seven items every single day.  (In fact, the playing outside and the reading are the only daily ones. I alternate every other day prioritizing outside play or academics, but I try to do both.) Of course, there are many summer days that will involve other things when we won’t do any of these, but hey, it’s important to have a goal, right?!  I also have a list of things around here that need a good deep cleaning, those things all during the school year about which we say, “I’ll get to that this summer!”

When Your Mind Is Reeling with Questions, Here's One Simple Daily Question We Should Be Asking

It was a startling slap across the face and a knee punch – right there in the pit of his stomach—and I watched my husband double over in pain and heave sobs.  A mentor/teacher/coach/friend, his boss with whom he’s worked side by side for over seven years took his own life.  Took.  His. Own.  Life.   A week later our heads are still spinning and our hearts aching for the loss (especially for his family), and I watch my husband vacillate between anger and sadness, frustration and devastation.

When all the talk has been talked, the prayers lifted, and hope revitalized because we know the ultimate victory is ours in Christ, the practical, real-life day feels a little different these days.   Ironically, in the wake of confusion, many things have instantly gotten simpler—at least my perspective has.  There are so many things that DO. NOT. MATTER.  Isn’t that what life-altering things do to us?  The punch in the gut somehow cures our bad vision.  We can now see with greater clarity what’s eternally significant and what’s not, what’s loving and what’s selfish.  (Side note:  I wrote a whole post on why the little things do matter, but what I mean is that there are some things –both big and little—that we get worked up over that simply have no eternal value.)

Paul’s prayer for the Philippians has become my prayer—for myself.  “I pray that your love will overflow more and more, and that you will keep on growing in knowledge and understanding.  For I want you to understand what really matters, so that you may live pure and blameless lives until the day of Christ’s return” (Phil. 1:9-10 NLT).

What really matters is what Jesus boiled it down to when a cocky Pharisee tried to trip him up:

“Jesus replied, ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.  This is the first and greatest commandment.  And the second is like it; love your neighbor as yourself.  All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments’” (Matthew 22:37-40 NIV).

I’ve found myself in this reflective state the past week when I interact with my children, my husband, my friends, strangers even, asking myself, “What does love look like here?”  And whatever the answer to that question is, is where I want to be, how I want to respond.  (Of course, we cannot possibly be all things to all people.  Even the most energetic of us are limited by time, space, physical needs.  But what matters is that our hearts are tuned to the Spirit who shows us where to give our loving attention if we listen.  I certainly don’t want to heap guilt on any of us for feeling like we’re not being “enough” because we will never be “enough.”  Instead, we are to be His.  And He is always enough—more than “enough” for us.)

If we’re late to choir practice (again), if our socks don’t match, and our kids' shoes are on the wrong feet (again), if the kids wouldn’t eat any vegetables (again), if we missed the sign-ups for t-ball (again), it’s really ok.  Breathe.  What does matter is how I talked to my kids, how I listened, how I reacted, how I loved.

This experience has also reminded me that people of every age, of every walk of life, are so very fragile, as fragile as each of the tiny babies I’ve brought home from the hospital, utterly helpless and dependent on their mama to love them and to keep them alive.  Though flesh and bones grow larger, the fragility of humanity is always there.  We’re all utterly dependent on God, whether we know it or not.  We often don’t know what struggles are behind smiling faces or angry glares.  I simply want to be cognizant of the fragility behind the facades.   As C.S. Lewis says, “There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal” (The Weight of Glory).  I want to look into the eyes of the people with whom I interact and every time remember I am looking into the face of an extraordinary, immortal soul with the imago Dei (image of God) stamped on the human heart . . .   

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all of our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations - these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit - immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.
― C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory (emphasis mine)

Ideas for Celebrating Easter (For Children but Really for Anyone!)

I tell my children, “Easter is just as important as Christmas.”  And while I mean that, it’s hard to make quite the fanfare about Easter that we do about Christmas when the culture around us isn’t throwing Easter parties, listening to Easter music, taking a two week Easter break from school, or having Easter parades.  But if we have anything to throw a party about, it’s this—the resurrected Christ defeated my sin and my death, out of the riches of his mercy and grace gave me the ultimate gift, took on himself the punishment that was mine, made a way for me to live forever with God, gave my life purpose, and enabled the indwelling of the Holy Spirit so that His very presence and power continue on in the world through you and me!  Easter should be the party to end all parties—meaning you won’t find a better reason to throw a party than Easter (this side of heaven at least).

As I preach this to myself, I’m thinking that what I’m about to share with you is rather anti-climactic in light of the glory of the resurrection of Christ, but I’ll share nonetheless.

Here are a few ways I try to make Easter memorable for my children.   Children LOVE traditions and remember them even when you forget them (one of the many things I love about my tribe).  (FYI – these are not my original ideas, and if I knew whom to credit, I would.)

1. Resurrection Rolls – On Easter morning get the children to help roll marshmallows into canned crescent rolls (1 marshmallow to 1 roll) and talk with them about Jesus being wrapped in burial clothes and placed in a borrowed tomb (See Mark 15:42-47). Then when you take them out of the oven, the marshmallow is “gone”!  Talk with them about the significance of the empty tomb!  (I’ve been doing this for two years, and this year, my five-year-old said, “Mama don’t forget to buy those rolls that we put Jesus in…you know the ones!”)
2. Plant an Easter garden. We did this last year and our garden is still alive (which is quite MIRACULOUS considering that I killed an asparagus fern that had previously survived the Pascagoula floodwaters of Hurricane Katrina).  Use a pot turned sideways with moss on top (or a big rock with a hole drilled in it) as the tomb, and use play-dough to “seal” the tomb.  Use small succulent plants to make the garden.  I got this idea from my friend Ann.  Check it out here.  (Ok, she doesn’t know we’re friends, but we are.  You’ll notice in my sidebar of recommended books that hers is one of my favs.)  My children had fun planting and watering the garden.  (P.S.  Ann's looks way better than mine! ha!)
   
3. The night before Easter make Resurrection cookies. (See recipe below.)
4. Sing Easter hymns and songs. We go to a contemporary church, so my children don’t hear the hymns as often as I did growing up, so I make it a point to sing and play them at home and on CD in the car.  I really like this one:  Kids Hymnal.  When “And Can it Be” comes on, my girls say, “Mama, this is your song.”   (See lyrics below.)  My children are hearing some great theology through the hymns, and one day I trust it will deepen their walk with Christ.
5. Make or buy resurrection eggs and read the corresponding Scripture with your children.  You can check out an example:  Easter Egg Set - 12 Resurrection Eggs With Religious Figurines Inside - Tells Full Story of Easter.
   (I made my own.  We usually do this on Saturday when we are waiting on the dyed Easter eggs to dry.)
   (This pic was taken last year.)
6. The obvious and easy one: Take your children to all the services that build up to Easter—Ash Wednesday, Palm Sunday, any Holy Week services your church has, and of course Easter Sunday—and sunrise services are just THE BEST.  Last Sunday my five-year-old asked me why our church didn’t have the palm branches (as we usually do) this year for Palm Sunday.  I didn’t even tell her it was Palm Sunday!  My point here is simply that tangible experiences help children (and adults) remember.  This Thursday I asked my girls what was significant about this day before Jesus died.   She said, “They [Jesus and his disciples] ate the Passover food together, and Jesus took the bread and said ‘this is my body’ . . .”  I don’t really drill this into her, but through a combination of teaching (church/homeschool program teachers/home) and experiences, she remembers.   I share all this not to brag on her, but to say that you never know when the seemingly small things make a big impression on their understanding.
7. Have an Easter party.  (I haven't done this yet . . . but one day!)Please leave a comment to share your Easter ideas!

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The Easter Story Cookies

You will need:
1 cup whole pecans
1tsp. vinegar
3 egg whites
pinch of salt
1 cup sugar
Ziploc bag
wooden spoon
tape
a Bible

Preheat oven to 300 degrees.  Place pecans in Ziploc bag and let children beat them with wooden spoon to break into small pieces.  Read John 19:1-3.   After Jesus was arrested, He was beaten by the Roman soldiers.
Let children smell the vinegar.  Put 1 tsp. vinegar into mixing bowl.  Explain that when Jesus was thirsty on the cross, He was given vinegar to drink.  Read John 19:28-30.
Add egg whites to vinegar.  Eggs represent life.  Explain that Jesus gave His life to give us life.  Read John 10:10-11.
Sprinkle a little salt into each child’s hand.  Let them taste it.  Put a pinch of salt into mixing bowl.  Explain that this represents the salty tears shed by Jesus’ followers, and the bitterness of our own sin.  Read Luke 23:27.

So far, the ingredients are not very appetizing.

Add 1 cup of sugar.  Explain that the sweetest part of the story is that Jesus died because he loves us.  He wants us to know and belong to Him.  Read Psalm 34:8 and John 3:16.
Beat with a mixer on high speed for 12 to 15 minutes until stiff peaks are formed.  Explain that the color white represents the purity of those whose sins have been cleansed by Jesus.  Read Isaiah 1:18 and John 3:1-3.
Fold in broken nuts.  Drop by teaspoons on to waxed paper cookie sheet.  Explain that each mound represents the rocky tomb where Jesus’ body was laid.  Read Matthew 27:57-60.  Put cookie sheet in the oven, close the door, and turn the oven OFF.  Give each child a piece of tape and seal the oven door.  Explain that Jesus’ tomb was sealed.  Read Matthew 27:65-66.
Now go to bed!
Explain that they may feel sad to leave the cookies in the oven overnight.  Jesus’ followers were in despair when the tomb was sealed.  Read John 16:20 and 22.
On Easter morning open the oven and give everyone a cookie.  Notice the cracked surface and take a bite.  The cookies are hollow!  On the first Easter, Jesus followers were amazed to find the tomb open and empty.  Read Matthew 28:1-9.

* Recipe given to me by my friend Vicky Waggoner (not sure who wrote it, but likely a wonderful Sunday School teacher or mom!)

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“And Can It Be”
by Charles Wesley

And can it be that I should gain
An interest in the Savior’s blood?
Died He for me, who caused His pain?
For me, who Him to death pursued?
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?
Amazing love! how can it be
That Thou, my God, shouldst die for me?

’Tis mystery all! The Immortal dies!
Who can explore His strange design?
In vain the firstborn seraph tries
To sound the depths of love Divine!
’Tis mercy all! let earth adore,
Let angel minds inquire no more.
’Tis mercy all! let earth adore,
Let angel minds inquire no more.

He left His Father’s throne above,
So free, so infinite His grace;
Emptied Himself of all but love,
And bled for Adam’s helpless race:
’Tis mercy all, immense and free;
For, O my God, it found out me.
’Tis mercy all, immense and free;
For, O my God, it found out me.

Long my imprisoned spirit lay
Fast bound in sin and nature’s night;
Thine eye diffused a quickening ray,
I woke, the dungeon flamed with light;
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.
My chains fell off, my heart was free,
I rose, went forth, and followed Thee.

No condemnation now I dread;
Jesus, and all in Him, is mine!
Alive in Him, my living Head,
And clothed in righteousness Divine,
Bold I approach the eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.
Bold I approach the eternal throne,
And claim the crown, through Christ my own.

To the Little Rebel Who Cries Out, "I Don't Want To!!!"

One warm spring day in the first grade I remember having a smidgen of a headache. I was sitting at my little table in Miss Pam’s room with my little knobby knees underneath my cubbyhole.  Angela sat across from me, and two of our friends sat beside us.  That fat, orange-covered handwriting book lay open in front of me.  (Yes, I still remember the color of that loathsome book.)  The longer I stared at it, the more that little rebel inside of me didn’t want to do it.  Left-handed people should not be subjected to such nonsense nor their creativity confined to fitting letters between those straight blue lines.  That headache just got worse.

I went to Miss Pam who allowed me to go to the office.  I called and convinced my mother that I now had the worst headache of my seven-year-old life, and shortly thereafter I was happily lying on the couch underneath my favorite afghan (the one that’s on my couch now) listening to the loud hum of that old air conditioner at the home of two of the most unsympathetic grandparents you’ve ever seen.  (Of course, they were two of the kindest people, but sharp as tacks I couldn’t get much past them.  This is the same grandmother who when on her deathbed told my husband the story of the time that she spanked me for getting into the pecans she had been shelling.  When he said, “I know that broke your heart to spank her,” Beth’s warm eighty-nine-year-old smile spread across her face, her blue eyes lit up, and in her shaking, Southern gentlewoman drawl she replied, “No . . . I ratha’ enjoyed it.”)

I escaped handwriting that day, but as the saying goes, “I may have won the battle, but I would surely lose the war.”  (Thank heaven!)

It’s funny how I have found myself in that rebellious little place thousands of times since then—the bottom line is this . . . (imagine my whispering voice here – yes, I can whisper – maybe the loud church pew whisper of a blue-haired lady; nevertheless, I am capable of a whisper) . . .  I don’t like grunt work.  (Dear friend, before you roll your eyes, tell the truth!  You’ve complained once or twice about it too.)  Now, don’t get me wrong, I like a little manual labor here and there if it involves a beautiful finished product (or even just an organized closet), but if the ultimate goal isn’t something beautiful or if it’s not fun or interesting or maybe even hard and intellectually stimulating, then there’s a little rebel in me who still cries out, “RUN – make like the wind!  You don’t have to do this!!!”  I know, I know – I’m blessed beyond measure.  I would gladly do grunt work all day every day in this amazing free country that I don’t deserve.  I also know this attitude shows arrogance, pride, lack of humility, immaturity, and selfishness, all rolled up into one feisty redhead.

But EVERYTHING to which the Lord calls me (and I believe calls all of us) involves “grunt work.”  He uses that necessary work to humble us and to refine us.  On the contrary, the enemy of our souls tempts us to be discontent with the “grunt work.”  If he can breed discontent (“I don’t like this work”), then he can breed in us a lack of faith that God is good and ultimately lack of faith in Him at all.  If he can breed arrogance and pride (“I’m too good/too smart/too old  for this work”), then he can breed idolatry (“I’m my own God; thus, I don’t need God.”).

When faced with grunt work this week, remember that God uses grunt work for our good.  Remember to silence the enemy who breeds discontent and instead listen to the One who is trustworthy and always good.  He is passionate that the spirit He has placed within you should be faithful to Him . . .

 “Do you think the Scriptures have no meaning?  They say that God is passionate that the spirit he has placed within us should be faithful to him.  And he gives grace generously.  As the Scriptures say, ‘God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.’   So humble yourselves before God.” 
- James 4:5-7a NLT

Work willingly at whatever you do, as though you were working for the Lord rather than for people.”- Colossians 3:23 NLT

P.S.  I never quite surrendered to that orange handwriting book.  While it’s legible, to this day, my handwriting is well – ugly.  On the contrary, Part 2 in this series will be about finding beauty in grunt work.

P.P.S. The picture above is of my little right-handed girl who will never get to use all of my left-handed handwriting excuses.  Bless her.  Teaching my child handwriting is one
frustrating hilarious prank on me!

An Idea for Your Women's Ministry

We had a “prayer brunch” for the women at our church on Saturday. “Prayer brunch” might lead one to think, “Women in their pretty dresses, bringing in warm breakfast casseroles, a lot of talking and maybe a little bit of prayer.”  Other than the “warm breakfast casseroles” part, the other couldn’t be farther from the truth.  We gathered, we ate, I read Acts 2:42, and I reminded them of why we were there:

“All the believers devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, and to fellowship, and to sharing in meals (including the Lord’s Supper) and to prayer…” (Acts 2:42 NLT).

(See!  The eating part is Biblical after all.)  Then, our leader for the brunch had each woman write on an index card how we could be praying for her (and leave it anonymous).  We threw the little cards in the same basket, and one by one a woman would draw the card out, read it, and then pray aloud right then and there for that woman whose card she drew.

I’m glad my friend was leading instead of me because I always do this thing in which I try to make everyone feel comfortable and say, “You don’t have to pray out loud if you don’t want to…”  But she didn’t say that.  She didn’t force anyone to pray out loud, but she also didn’t let everyone off the hook either.  Of course, the Lord’s hand was in it—emboldening weary or anxious women.  One by one almost every woman in the room prayed out loud—powerful prayers from seemingly timid souls.   Those small, perfectly lined index cards contained big, messy prayers from women believing in an uncontainable God.  There were spiritually bleeding hearts poured out on those cards—hearts begging for humility, for patience, for wisdom, for boldness in their witness, for freedom from addiction, for hearts that love their families and other people more than they love themselves.

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. . . .
Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.–Matthew 5:3, 8 NIV

The Spirit of God fell and filled that little Sunday school room, and for a little Saturday morning get-together we enjoyed a great unity that can only be found in Christ.  I tried to wrap it up at 12:00 p.m.  I had promised the ladies we would finish at 12:00, but they didn’t want to quit, so for another hour or so we prayed – this time not for ourselves but for our nation – prayers of repentance, for our persecuted brothers and sisters in places all over the world, and for the dark culture that we live in – a culture that masquerades as fun and filling but leaves people abandoned and empty.

The whole thing was simply beautiful.  Young women, older women, single women, married women, poor women, rich women, feisty women, quiet women—I think the only common denominators for all of us were “women” and “Christian.” It was like being wrapped up in the most beautiful patchwork quilt you’ve ever seen—radiant hearts of unique individuals sewn together to make something beautiful, purposeful, and lasting.

“For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”
(Jesus, Matthew 18:20 NIV)

To God be the glory!

Will you take the 40 bags in 40 days challenge with me?

As my Itty Bitty (age 3) is sitting here on my bed telling me, right this very moment,  I'm a mess!  I love to de-clutter, organize, and label things.  I'm pretty intentional about not buying a bunch of junk.  I try to be frugal.  Nevertheless, somehow, mysteriously I'm still losing the war against stuff.  My Itty Bitty is pretending to "organize" all the loose papers and index cards in my Bible.  She has pulled out every one of them, and in her grown-up, serious voice she's saying things like, "Mama, this is unacceptable.  This is too much mess!  I'm going to organize these papers for you, and we've got to get rid of this junk!"  (Where does she learn these exaggerated statements?!)  So...during Lent this year, I'm de-junking (yet again), but this time it's more fun because I'm doing it with my friend Macki (who challenged me) and with a whole world of blog readers.  You can read about it here:

Post a comment and let me know if you're in with me - and with the rest of the @WHBSBlog readers. P.S.  I know, I know..."Decrapifying" isn't exactly a nice word, but it's Ann Marie's word, not mine :).

Something I Just Must Share: Guest Post by Macki Smith

I saw the picture of the twenty-one Egyptian Christians about to be beheaded, their brave faces showing and their captors faces covered by black masks.  My stomach flipped over.  I pushed my breakfast away.  An hour later, I called my friend Macki so that we could mourn together over the phone--share in the horror, the questions, the grief for the broken hearts of the families of the persecuted church.  A few days later Macki emailed me this and graciously allowed me to share it with you here.

The Lord has burdened my heart with something that I just must share…a realization of a spiritual tug of war for this American Christian’s weary heart. This burden has been heavy on me for around a month now, unable to articulate my feelings in words, but clarified yesterday by the revelation that my fellow Egyptian brothers in Christ lost their lives by the terrorist group ISIS.

Why such a senseless act of brutality?

Simply because they loved MY Jesus … OUR Jesus.

Yesterday, as I was going about my simple mundane life, enjoying my freedom to homeschool my kids, cook for my family, even feed my dog, and take a break on my comfy new couch, it was during that break my eyes were opened when I scrolled down my Facebook feed. You see, right now we are in the beginning stages of building a house. A house that we have waited on and saved for…for years! So of course, a Facebook feed about how to decorate everything in your home jumped out at me. I saw all kinds of neat furniture layouts, a “how to” on curtain hanging, and now I even know the names of different kinds of legs on antique chairs...of course that's really useful! I read it, relishing in the fact that it will be only a short time now before I can, too, decorate my own home, using my newfound Facebook wisdom! I then clicked “Share” because, of course, I wanted to keep this valuable information for later. Living still in the bubble of my freedom as an American to overindulge on Facebook, I kept on scrolling down…

Then…

I saw it. A headline of such magnitude that will never leave my mind, piercing through my Americanized bubble like a knife plunging directly into my gut and causing my whole body to go hot...then numb…my hands trembling…

The headline “A Biblical Meditation on the ISIS Execution of 21 Christians…”

What?

How did I miss this? ME… selfish ME bopping along in MY own reality of self-centeredness…focusing on the trivial burdens of MY life…meditating on things finite in eternal significance…and completely missing the ultimate sacrifice of faith that my fellow Egyptian brothers gave their lives for.

Lord, I am just so very sorry…

I am so very sorry for my country…where I am witnessing before me right being wrong and wrong being right.

I am so very sorry that I have not defended my faith with the boldness that you have commanded of me. I am weak…scared of what others will say…will think…though those reasons do not justify my failure…

I am so very sorry for my own selfishness…for my mind focusing on earthly materialism and not eternal magnitude. For relishing…and even coveting…in the lavishness provided because of my American freedom…a freedom paid for with the blood of my ancestors…a freedom that You allowed to flourish…a freedom that You allowed me to be born into…a freedom that You knew that I would live under and never fully grasp the significance of the price that was paid for it…

I. Am. Just. So. Very. Sorry.

My burden, you see, has been a spiritual tug of war between living in our modern day Babylonian society that is called America and living the humble servitude life that is called Christian. I love my country! I am extremely grateful for my freedom…though I will probably never understand the cost. But with that freedom…it has cost us something too. While flourishing under influence and worldly dominance, a selfishness and immorality has gradually sneaked in amongst our free people…that is called entitlement.

And I carry the burden of entitlement in my heart as well.

My prayer is that we wake up…that I wake up! We turn away from the god of ourselves and refocus on You…God of our universe.
My prayer is that we fall on our face before you and petition in unison on behalf of our persecuted fellow believers…our brothers and sisters in faith bought expensively with blood of Christ.

My prayer is that even in our fury and disgust over ISIS’s persecution of Christianity, our hearts can be pierced with Your mercy towards these evil doers. And we can genuinely pray that in the midst of their senseless brutality that You will reveal Yourself to them through the strength and dignity of the persecuted.

My prayer is that we can realize the evil in our own hearts. And we can turn from our own evil and selfishness. We can become bold to stand firm in our faith…standing in love…yet not altering our convictions based on cultural pressures.

Let us wake up! Let us realize the intense beauty and luxury of our freedom. Let us realize that this is a freedom that can be taken away. Let us realize in the midst of enjoying our freedom, there are those losing their lives simply because they love Jesus.

American Christians, let us wake up!

12 Tips for Having a Great Sunday

The small town in which I grew up shut down on Sundays, and I think we were better off for it.  One of our two grocery stores didn’t open at all, and the other was open only from 12:00 to 6:00 p.m.  The downtown streets were empty.  All of life slowed way down.  Sundays were for worship, eating, fishing, and naps.  Sounds awesome, doesn’t it?!

When I moved here, I was sad to see all these people rushing here and there on Sundays as if it were any other day.  There was no holy space—at least not the kind that was markedly noticeable by the whole community—not even good peer pressure that made people SLOW. DOWN. and REST.  When everyone else is racing around, it’s easy to get caught up and race around that silly gerbil wheel yourself.  That little wheel is going nowhere, but that little life is getting worn slap out.

I’m not a full-blown "legalist," by the way.  I have been known occasionally to go to a restaurant on Sundays or to the grocery store if the “ox is in the ditch” as the Biblical metaphor goes.  But I really think a small dose of legalism about it would do me some good.  (And yes, I’m aware that the real Hebrew Shabbat is from sundown Friday to sundown Saturday.)

As a refresher for us, here’s what God told Moses and the Hebrew people:  “Remember to observe the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. ⁹ You have six days each week for your ordinary work, ¹⁰ but the seventh day is a Sabbath day of rest dedicated to the Lord your God. On that day no one in your household may do any work. This includes you, your sons and daughters, your male and female servants, your livestock, and any foreigners living among you” (Exodus 20:8-10 NLT).

Yeah, this is on that BIG TEN LIST – right there alongside those others we hold more dearly—honor your father and mother, don’t lie, steal, murder, commit adultery.  Somehow we hold exception to just this one—at best it’s inconvenient and weird, and at most it’s costly.

My pastor and dear friend always likes to remind me of what Jesus said, “The Sabbath was made to meet the needs of people, and not people to meet the requirements of the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27 NLT).

But my question is this, “What if we DO let Sabbath meet our needs?  What if we let God meet our needs the way God designed our needs to be met?”  The One who is the Author of us is the Author of rest.  When we wrestle on without ever resting, I dare say we wrestle ourselves right to an empty defeat that God never intended for us.

So from one busy gerbil to another, here’s how to have a great Sunday:

1. Plan ahead on Saturday (or Friday if your Sabbath is on Saturday). Not my original idea—it’s God’s.   “This is what the Lord commanded: Tomorrow will be a day of complete rest, a holy Sabbath day set apart for the Lord. So bake or boil as much as you want today, and set aside what is left for tomorrow” (Exodus 16:23).
2. Plan your grocery time for anytime other than Sunday.
3. When you meal plan, consider a crockpot meal or leftovers for Sundays. If you really want to get into it, use paper plates so you don’t have to wash so many dishes!!
4. Lay out clothes for Sunday (iron, mend) on Saturdays. Get the diaper bag (or other church paraphernalia) by the back door on Saturday nights.  If you’re ready the night before, you’re less likely to get flustered and yell at the kids before church or to shirk going altogether!
5. Go ahead and think about Monday on Saturday. Do whatever’s got to be done for Monday then—homework, meal plan, lesson plans.
6. Set your alarm (ouch, I know) so that when Sunday arrives, you get up in time to pray before getting ready for worship. It always makes for a more enriching worship time.
7. Go to worship! Obviously.
8. If the family needs a nap that afternoon, make everyone take one! (or at least have a quiet time in their rooms)
9. If you don’t want to nap, do something Re-Creation-al. True recreation isn’t something that just numbs you (e.g. lame tv shows) but something that really re-creates the you that God made you to be (drawing, painting, writing, fishing, walking, reading, etc.).
10. OR do something as a family that connects you with one another in a fun way (play games, play outside). Sundays should be a time toward which every one of every age looks forward.  To be a holy day means it’s a set-apart day—a good kind of different from the other six days.
11. When you’re tempted to do laundry (or ______ fill in the blank with daily, ordinary work), write down all the tasks you’re dying to do, and ask yourself if it’s really worth it or can it wait until tomorrow night (or lunch break if you get one of those or early morning or maybe even next Saturday).
12. Stay out of stores and away from internet shopping on Sundays—they just make us want stuff that we probably don’t need, spend money we probably don’t have, and most of all rob us of holy time and meaningful experiences with the people we love.

A new habit takes practice.  Just try it.  Practice a new holy habit this week!

If you create a new Sunday habit, share it in the comments section.

What Your Spouse/Friend/Child Really Needs for Valentine's Day

If I make heart-shaped pancakes for breakfast but have not LOVE, I am just a clanging cymbal.

If I decorate my house with cute little Pinteresty Valentine stuff, but have not LOVE, I would be a noisy gong.

If I homeschool, spending all day everyday with my children teaching them constantly, but have not LOVE, I am nothing.

If I feed my children five times a day but have not LOVE, I would have gained nothing.

If I change diapers, read them sweet and wonderful books, brush their teeth twice a day, potty train, clean up their messes, teach them to clean their messes, play outside, take them to church, to the nursing home, to the library, give them my full attention but have not LOVE . . .

“If I had such faith that I could move mountains but didn’t love others, I would be nothing.  If I gave everything I have to the poor and even sacrificed my body, I could boast about it; but if I didn’t love others, I would have gained NOTHING” (2 Corinthians 13:2b-3).

But if I do all these things day in and day out, surely that’s evidence that I do love my children!  But this is not about proving a case of how much we love our children.  If you think through this little list of things, you can imagine yourself doing them with a grouchy attitude and a frustrated “my-kids-are-so-unappreciative” grimace, OR you can imagine a woman who keeps loving, smiling, hugging, training her children, a woman who expects that yes, they’re going to behave like entitled little wretches until she deliberately, daily trains them to love as she loves.  I want to be that woman.

Real LOVE, the God-sized love, is always self-giving in nature.  As Martin Luther taught, it’s the heart curved out rather than the heart curved in on itself.  That’s what Christian discipleship (including motherhood) is—a heart curved out training little hearts to curve out instead of curving in on themselves.  Part of the frustration with ourselves (or with our children) is that we can’t fully “train” a heart to curve out; no, God Himself has to bend that heart right out by the power and presence of His Spirit.

A thousand times a day I make choices and have reactions that affect other people (usually three little people), and those reactions show which way my heart is curved.  All that I can do is bend to Him, and He bends my heart.  I’m so bad at this thing—this agape love thing—that lately I’ve been trying to bend to Him every half hour.  As Frank Laubach, a busy missionary to the Philippine Islands wrote, “I have started out trying to live all my waking moments in conscious listening to the inner voice, asking without ceasing, ‘What, Father, do you desire said?  What, Father do you desire done this minute? . . . Can a man working at a machine pray for people all day long, and at the same time do his task efficiently?  Can a mother wash dishes, care for the babies, continuously talking to God?”*

So far, I give this every-thirty-minute thing a good effort and fall off the wagon by nine a.m.  But I’m enjoying getting back on the wagon and deliberately turning to Him again.

It’s early morning, and my little ones just stumbled sleepy-eyed into my room, so to choose LOVE in this moment means I quit this writing and turn to what God has put in front of me here and now.  Here goes turning to the Grace-filler throughout this day to do in me that which I can’t do on my own!

Let love be your highest goal!1 Corinthians 14:1a NLT

Happy Valentine’s Day!

* Laubach, Frank.  “Letters by a Modern Mystic.”  Devotional Classics.  Ed.  Richard J. Foster and James Bryan Smith.  San Francisco:  Harper, 2005.  101-107.  Print.

The Best Easy Strawberry Cake

This cake has been a favorite of mine since childhood!  I've never been a fan of boring white birthday cakes.  Even as a little girl, I always wanted Mama to bake this strawberry cake or a caramel cake for my birthday.  Recently I made this one for a dear friend who didn't want a baby shower, but sans baby shower, we still ate cake! (I have a little long ways to go on my decorating skills!)

Strawberry Cake and Icing Recipe

1 box of Duncan Hines yellow cake mix (yes, I know cheating--but hey, I said "easy"!)
1 small package of strawberry jello
2/3 cup of oil
1/2 cup of water
4 eggs
10 oz. package of frozen strawberries
1/2 cup (i.e. 1 stick) of butter, softened
1 box of confectioner's sugar
fresh strawberries for decorating

for cake:
Grease pan and sprinkle with flour.
Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Mix 1st five items and 1/2 c of the frozen strawberries.  Blend on low; then beat on medium.
Pour in pan and bake for 30 minutes or until cake pulls away from sides and toothpick inserted comes out clean.
Let cool in pan for 5 to 10 minutes before removing on to plate.  Let cool completely before icing.

for icing:
Blend softened butter (not melted!!!), remaining frozen strawberries (1/2 c), and confectioner's sugar.  Start on low, blend on high until creamy.  Pour over cake.  Refrigerate cake.  (Due to the strawberries, the icing will soften too much if you leave it out on the counter all day.)

What God Whispers to the Frustrated

With steam coming out of my ears and eyes blazing as fiery as my hair, I would love to tell you that the cause is a noble one.  Hardly.  Yet again, it’s my “frenemy”—kindergarten mathematics.  As the situation escalates, I’m trying (sort of) to remind myself, “Self, this is not worth it.  Who cares?!  It’s just kindergarten.  She’ll get it eventually!  Your relationship with your daughter is more important than this!”  But the frustration barrels over my self-talk; the Holy Spirit’s wisdom, “Slow.  Breathe.  Look at your child,” is muffled by my perseverant stupidity.  Here I am--I’m much less than I should be to my Little Bit in this moment.  AAHHH!

So of course, I had those blissful (NOT!) moments of guilt, self-loathing, ugghhhness while going through the motions—walking away from the math to slap mayo on six pieces of bread, mumbling prayers of repentance to Jesus, and then for the umpteenth day in a row, asking my Little Bit to forgive me for being unkind and impatient during math.  By mid-afternoon I’m praying AGAIN, “Lord, I got this wrong, right?  Homeschooling calling?  It’s all a big misunderstanding between us, right?  Clearly, I’m not good at this.  I mean, I’m good at math (ahhemm –pride), but I just can’t teach it well to a five-year-old, and you know, I can’t leave out the subject entirely forever.”

Jesus.  Ahh…His presence is so good.  His Spirit whispers back to my spirit the same thing I’ve said to women in far more serious predicaments than this one, “I will make a way.”  Jesus will make a way when there seems to be no way.

So here’s the happy ending:  He did make a way for the Little Bit and me!!!  It was beautiful!  (Even though I didn’t get to bail on homeschooling or the process of being made more patient, I did get to bail on math—sort of.  She got a new, gifted math teacher.)  I share my math teacher inadequacy with my Dear Husband.  He comes home from work, takes the Little Bit and her little table into a room with all the wonderful math manipulatives, and after about fifteen minutes, sounds of laughter and cheering are pouring out beneath the shut door.  Thirty minutes later they invite me in for a game.  I’m the contestant.  Little Bit is the gameshow host.  We both win the game.

God is good.  In a seemingly insignificant, routine day He reminds me that He’s infinitely creative.  He has solutions we can't even conceive.  And almost always those solutions involve relationships.  He humbles us by placing us in the posture of needing someone else.  (It's humbling because we all want to be so ridiculously self-sufficient at times.)  He’s present and working in all things.  Sometimes He changes our circumstances, but most of the time He changes us.  Either way...he knows which is best for us and leads us in that way.  He loves us so deeply that He meets us here in our little spots on the globe just as he met the leper, the lame, the little children, the sinful woman, the blind man on dusty roads on another little spot on the globe a couple thousand years ago.  The same Jesus.  The same Redeemer can redeem all things . . . can redeem all of us.

Trust God from the bottom of your heart;
    don’t try to figure out everything on your own.
Listen for God’s voice in everything you do, everywhere you go;    
he’s the one who will keep you on track.
Don’t assume that you know it all.
--from The Message, Proverbs 3:5-7a