I Must Not Be Silent

Therefore encourage one another and build each other up.

1 Thess. 5:11

 

Each of us should do what we can for the good of those around us, to build him up

….so that by encouragement… you may have hope.

Romans 15:2,4

Note: I wrote this entry a few days after I wrote the blog about the boy who took his own life. Not two weeks after their loss, his dad returned to the pulpit and delivered a sermon on Encouraging Words. He said that when they were at Baylor, waiting to recover their son’s body, they met in the press room along with 60 other students. There the friends of this boy spoke up about alot of things they admired about their friend. In the sermon he merely said, ‘I wish Jordan would have been able to be there to hear the encouraging words his friends had to say about him.’ I actually wrote this based on another situation with a friend that I had been pondering. When God lays something on your heart, it is true for many areas. So, with this in mind….

Have you ever wondered if you should say something to someone?  Should you just mind your own business or should you jump in with both feet?  How do you know when to speak up and when to be silent? When you are watching a friend walk a precipitous path toward temptation and sin? Or getting ready to make a decision that could negatively impact their future?

I wrestle with these questions many times. What to say. What not to say. When is it my business and when is it not?

An even better question. When have I wished that someone would have spoken up in my life? Wished that someone had warned me of the path I was on and the outcome that would have been likely for the choices I was making. Given me a chance to hear thinking other than my own. Encourage me. Build me up. Help to shape my future? Granted, sometimes people will project onto your situation. But sometimes there is wisdom that can be gleaned from other’s experience or words of caution. Sometimes out comes are obvious and others can help steer us away from negative decisions. Sometimes just a few words are what God uses to steer us in our thoughts or actions.

If I really trust God and know that he works all things together for good, then should I speak up or should I let others make their mistakes they are on a path to make? When do you pray and when do you speak?

I think it is imperative at times to speak into each other’s lives. But when we speak, we must also encourage and build each other up. One thing about scripture that I have noticed, is that there is never a tearing down without a building up that goes on simultaneously . I notice that when Paul is admonishing believers, he is reminding his hearers of ‘who they really are’. And ‘who they really are’, is not sin. Nor does their true selves identify with sin. He speaks to them with a belief that they are in the process of being transformed as he instructs and teaches.

 I have had different friends on different occasions who spoke truth into times of darkness of my soul. They will never know this side of heaven the impact their words had on me and how their boldness to speak up and remind me of what is ‘true’, impacted the outcome of my situation. They got in my business in a very real way. And it changed things. It changed me.

 So with that lesson in mind, I am bolder and braver to speak up when I have a friend that I see going down a dangerous path. But I speak up with grace and with the purpose of reminding them of who they really are and the grace that covers them. There is something about this that draws in the soul and makes one desirous of adhering to wisdom. I don’t have to condemn. Grace has its own way of making our paths straight.

We’ve probably all been ‘confronted’ by someone at one point or another. Sometimes that confronting can often be more for their ‘own agenda’. But when it is the Holy Spirit through us who confronts, the fruit is peace and a gentle deep conviction to do what we usually have been prompted already in our hearts to be right.

I love the true work of the Holy Spirit. So wise and good and discerning. So I can trust that his work is the best for my friend as well. God has merely put me in the path of my friend, to encourage and build up. This encouraging includes speaking truth. Truth about the right and the wrong, what God says is black and white. Truth about the real person beneath the struggle and the temptation. Truth that God is faithful even when we’re not. Truth that God will give us more grace when we need it if we merely cry out to him and press into him in times of need.

These lessons are hard to learn in a world where our flesh demands to control the situation and the people around us, for what we believe to be their good or even our good. Our flesh will always want what we want. But those who are covered in the blood of the Lamb have the power to walk in the Spirit of God. With full Grace, mercy, love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, self-control… and who can resist this? The fruit of the spirit gives us room to breath and breaths in us, and in others life! What blessed potential we have for encouraging one another and building each other up with God’s Truth.

Let’s walk in this together. Who has the Lord laid on your heart to encourage and build up today? Do it! Someone’s life just may depend on it!

Dear Heart,

I am praying that you may grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses your understanding of love as you have ever know it — that your heart and soul may be completely full and satisfied,  filled up to overflowing with just how much He adores you.

… only speak that which is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that what you say may benefit those who listen.

…Pray also for me that I would have courage to face my own fears, that I would have the right words to speak to those who would oppose this message of the mystery God’s love through Jesus Christ.

Be encouraged with the Peace, Love and Grace of the Father and Jesus,

– Paul, to a group of believers in Ephesus

(Eph. 3:18-19, 4:29 author’s paraphrase)

An ‘Old Friend’

“My Grace is sufficient for you,

For my power is made perfect in your weakness.”

–Jesus Christ (2 Cor. 12:9a)

Most bloggers have blogs they watch. One that I regularly read is from John Eldredge. I just like his stuff. It is often just a very simple summary of ‘where I’m at’ a lot of days.

The last blog he posted was about ‘Old Friends’. He was referring to favorite reads. Those who love to read have books they do call ‘old friends’. I have a few myself. Actually some of John’s books are among those ‘old friends’.

 The reason this particular blog caught my attention, was because he was speaking about things not ‘turning out like we thought they would’. I have yet to have anything in my life turn out like I thought it would. I’m sure you’re life is very much the same. Some of us pursue in prayer the course of our lives. Some of us pursue on all things. Some of us pursue on only the important things. Some of us, sometimes forget to ask God altogether.

Regardless, when you do ask God to guide and direct your steps and the course you take, he does. Or even when you pray this for others, friends, children, etc. But it rarely, if ever, looks like we thought it would. What I have often found is that there is much more pain and inconvenience than I ever expected. For some reason, I never do plan ahead for this aspect of living.

 Here John talks about one of his old friends, a book by a dead guy Francis Schaeffer. He’s not one of my ‘old friends’ yet. But maybe as I ‘grow up’ he will become one. I’d like to read some of his stuff. For now, I’ve just stayed caught up with one of his second generation ‘pupils’. Here’s what John quoted:

 “Both the Scriptures and the history of the church teach that if the Holy Spirit is working, the whole man will be involved and there will be much cost to the Christian. The more the Holy Spirit works, the more Christians will be used in battle, and the more they are used, the more there will be personal cost and tiredness. It is quite the opposite of what we might first think. People often cry out for the work of the Holy Spirit and yet forget that when the Holy Spirit works, there is always tremendous cost to the people of God, weariness and tears and battles.”

 It was a consolation. There certainly have been weariness and tears and battles. The consolation was that this is part of the deal, part of what I signed up for when I gave my life to God, and when I asked to be used. The consolation was also Jesus saying, “You didn’t blow it; I asked you to do this. I am in this.” God used the words of this old friend (I had long ago underlined this passage) to speak to me what I needed to hear.

http://www.ransomedheartblog.com/john/2009/05/old-friends.html

Anybody who has ever been ‘called’ to anything will be able to identify with the weariness, tears and battles. Most of the time, being ‘called’ is to do the things that no one but God will ever see. Most of the time we interpret these things that cause us pain as ’set backs’ or road blocks. Sometimes we even interpret these setbacks as ‘maybe I didn’t really hear from God’. But in reality, they are merely part of what God is using to draw us closer to his heart, heal our hearts and our inept ways of relating to him and others, and make us better reflections of him.

 I don’t like pain or suffering or crying any more than the next person. But I have been able to say that the things in my life that have brought me pain, have indeed done much to shape me. I’m also learning that I’m not really a very good judge as to what is ‘good’ for me and ‘bad’ for me. Don’t get me wrong… there are some roads that I would never want to walk again. But as long as I keep forgiving what appears to be to my human eyes as the perpetrator, I grow deeper and softer into Christ. And I understand more and more what it means to possess the bounty of His Grace.

Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses,

so that Christ’s power may rest on me.

–an ‘old friend’ named Paul

(2 Cor. 12:9b)

Sleep Sound In Jesus

Your secrets so tall
See a new world unfolding
Where hearts are one
And pain’s undone
And you’re finally belonging.
And you need to know… You’re home.

 –Natalie Grant

 
 Just found out yesterday, that a dear pastor pastor friend of ours’ 20 year old son took his own life in his dorm room on Tuesday morning. I heard they ‘knew he was struggling’. With what? Death? Wanting to die? Why?

I’m sure they are ridden with  ‘whys’ and ‘what ifs’. What if we could have picked him up a day sooner from college…What if it would have been Monday instead of Wednesday that they’d planned to get him and bring him home? Was he depressed? Did he need medication? What if….? What was it this young man struggled with that he felt had no answers? My questions linger. Senselessly, they seem to hang in a void. I’m sure theirs are more tortuous. Oh how confusion engulfs the heart and the mind.

 My heart is deeply grieved to even begin to understand the feelings of loss the this family must be feeling at this moment. I know it was not the future they had dreamed for their precious firstborn baby boy, when he came to them as my babies have, in cute chubby innocence. Oh, the memories of him that are flooding their every waking moment. The dreams of who he was becoming will never be. I can not imagine the suddenness or intensity of their grief. Wherever they turn, they cannot escape his memory.  My mother’s heart breaks over this sadness.

 
 A wonderful Christian family. Mission trips. Great parents. Wise parents. Caring and kind parents. A Counselor for a dad? A Pastor’s family? A good one at that! A great kid! I thought these people were supposed to have all the answers? If it could be ‘done right’, it seemed they did. What went wrong? Why them?

 Darkness engulfs the mind and the heart at times that ’sense’ cannot understand. The Enemy taunts shrouded in darkness. How long did he work to accomplish this? The Enemy wants to claim another life along with many who he believes will question their faith in the goodness of the Father as a result. Is it that he believes Jesus will ‘lose a few’ over this?

 But he does not win. He will not win. Not now, not ever. Jordan is now restored and whole with his Maker. 100% of what God originally intended when he formed him in his mother’s womb is now given back to Jordan. The Enemy lost one. He did not gain one.

 O Death, where is your victory?
O Grave, Where is your sting?
I Cor. 15:55

 Jesus has won again. And he will continue until he has collected all of his children to his breast.

Sleep sound in Jesus, Jordan. The torment is over. You are home now! You will be deeply mourned and terribly missed. But not for long. The dawn is yet to come! It will come soon!

 Weeping may last for a night,
but rejoicing comes in the morning.
Ps. 30:5

 Jesus, I pray your comfort in the days, weeks and months to come over this family as they mourn the loss of their beloved son. Oh Father, you know all about this pain. Comfort them in only the way you know how. Give them Peace and fill their days with your Grace. I pray against Confusion that it will not have it’s way in their hearts. May you be glorified even in this. Thank you for loving our children better than we ever are able. I pray your Truth will reign in our hearts and minds. Give strength to hold fast to your promises. Draw them ever closer to your heart in all of this. The victory be all yours.

Better Late Than Never

 

Hope deferred makes the heart sick,

But a longing fulfilled is a tree of life.

Proverbs 13: 12

 

My oldest son’s 10th birthday was over three weeks ago now. I didn’t realize it till a few days ago, but he has been almost daily checking the mail for a birthday card or gift. His Grandma Eye sent him a package, but he’d heard nothing from anyone else. Every day the same scenario repeated itself. He would walk or ride his bike down to the end of the driveway and check the mail. Or if I picked it up, he would ask if he got anything. I think sometimes I must be really dense. I didn’t catch on for 3 weeks… 23 days to be exact. Where was my brain! The mail came and he would sigh and say, “still nothing”.

It broke my heart when I realized he’d been looking every day. Each day nothing came he felt forgotten and uncared for. As soon as I realized what was going on, I felt terrible and immediately sent a mass text to all of my family. ‘Please send birthday card. Ethan is still waiting.’ I usually try to not get in the mix of what is going on with my kids. I find my position as more trying to help them make sense of life rather than orchestrate it behind the scenes. But I couldn’t bear his disappointment. I had to orchestrate!

Yesterday, the UPS man brought him a package from my parents. You would have thought that someone gave him a million dollars. The whole family rejoiced with him. All the rest of my children knew about his daily vigil. It meant as much to the rest of us that he got a package as it did to him.

Usually, I find myself in my position as ‘mom’ to remind my kids of their manners. “Don’t forget to thank each person who gives you gifts.” They come off looking polished and grateful. I hope that each time I remind them that they are learning something about good manners and etiquette that will stick for a lifetime. Later that evening, he asked me if he could call grandma and thank her for her gift and card. I thought, ‘wow, no prompting!’ His deferred hope caused him to be so thankful and recognizing of another’s kindness and thoughtfulness. My mom had been very apologetic of forgetting his birthday. My kids learned the definition of ‘amnesia’ and ‘belated’ that day. Out of his grateful heart, Ethan tried to make her feel better by saying that (on day 25) she ‘was really early and not late at all, compared to everyone else who still haven’t sent him anything for his birthday.’ (So if you are one of those people I sent a text to— he is still waiting!)

I found my thoughts drawn to ‘hope’ and how it can be so enduring. It is really quite an amazing thing in the human heart. A persistence to hope. It can have a strength and stubbornness to it that is unreasonable. But what happens when hope is lost? I have found there is also a stubbornness to ‘lost hope’ that is unreasonable. Just have a go at trying to talk someone out of either!

I found myself in a conversation the other day at church with various ages of people. A statement was brought up by an gentleman I would refer to as a ’sage’, that I found to be interesting. “The church at large does not talk or teach much on hope.” Hmmm… a new thought to ponder. What is hope? How and where do you find it? What does it look like to lose it? If one can lose hope, can it be found again?

There is one thing true about hope. To lose it means that there is a death of some sort, whether emotional or physical. Hope swells from the heart. A heart with an absence of hope is a sad heart indeed. Proverbs says that hope deferred literally makes the heart sick. I know what this feels like as I’m sure you do. But that is merely hope deferred. What about when it is lost?

I sent my SOS text that day because of the hope I saw in my son. A hope I wanted to preserve and not be lost. I want whatever hope is in his heart to endure and become stronger. I know that in order for him to be a strong man of character, integrity and influence, he has to have a solidness of hope and belief in God and others. Hope that others care. Hope that God cares. Hope that he has the power to influence his circumstances. I will get behind the scenes to orchestrate that. Whatever it takes I will encourage him to press on in hope. It is a sign of a healthy heart.

Is This Mayberry? How I Wish It Were

I looked for a funny card, but none of them made me laugh.

–My journal entry, March 18, 2009

I’ve tried not to make this blog an ‘online journal’. This post may be close. I don’t know what things you struggle with specific to your marriage, but this week we were able to nail down something specific to ours. In a way, it was a victory. I hope that you see this post as thought provoker as to where the enemy wins victories in your life in his destruction against the unity of marriage.

Some weeks are just dang hard. This past week was one of those weeks.

Week before last, my hubby left for an awesome men’s retreat in Colorado. I was very excited and supportive of him going. The day he left, Reuben came down with a bad case of poison ivy. It must’ve been systemic because it looked like a bad case of the goose-bumps…. all over his body. There was absolutely no way he could have exposed all of his skin to poison ivy, unless he bathed in it.

On Friday night, Lilly was copying her older brother, who had been jumping down the front porch steps on one foot. She didn’t do so well. Her forehead and Rainy Path (our aptly dubbed front walk) had a confrontation. She lost. Lots of blood. Thankfully it quit bleeding fairly quickly and we were able to proceed as planned to the birthday party we were heading to and not the ER.

After being gone for 6 days, Brad got home from his conference on Monday afternoon. Things proceeded ‘fine’…. He had a lot to share and not enough time to share it in. Life and schedules move on whether you want it to or not. This frustrated both of us. By Wednesday evening, he’d had all the frustration he could handle, the proverbial last straw fell and he lost it. I was afraid, so I left home. I decided to go to my second home, Walmart. You know you can just about find whatever you want there. Safety, security, shopping. Some people go to their vices when they are upset, I went to mine. His birthday was coming up and I decided that it was the perfect opportunity to go card shopping for him. We’d had a fight so what better setting to hunt for that ‘perfect card’. After all, reading all those ‘love’ notes would bathe my mind in what was really true about our relationship.

I was looking for a card that said something about cutting your husband up in tiny pieces and burying him in the back yard, but apparently Hallmark thinks that wouldn’t sell well. Or maybe actually giving a card like that could be mis-interpreted as a threat, instead of a joke between disgruntled spouses.

 As a friend of mine recently said, “sappy cards are sometimes just a little ‘over-the-top’ and besides, if I wanted to write one, I certainly could.” I agreed. So I moved on to the funny cards. Just last week I found them all to be very funny. I had actually left the store with four of them and tucked them in his bag, one for each day he was gone. Last week, I found myself giggling out loud hoping that no one would hear me. This night, nothing was funny. I picked up probably 50 humor cards… and not one made me laugh. The magic was gone. I guess I never really realized that if life comes at you lightheartedly then jokes are funny… and if you’re not, the jokes aren’t either.

So what is the difference between this week and last? All I can account for sure is spiritual attack. Why else would there be so much confusion between me and my husband. How else would the words spoken between us be twisted so terribly.

When I was running on Wednesday, God gave me a vision of the Accuser standing before Jesus. The Hebrews meaning for Satan was Accuser. The Patriarchs of old new this truth well. In Revelation 12:10, apostle John, tells us of a vision in which he was allowed to see into heaven. A behind the scenes look at what was going on. In this vision he saw the Accuser planted in his position of the court of heaven, night and day, accusing us to the Father. He was not accusing those who do not yet know Jesus, he was accusing those who are covered in the blood of the Lamb. Is there any wonder we often feel ‘accused’? This vision came in the context of one of many earnest prayers for clarity in what was going on with Brad and I. God often tells me things that I need to know before I need to know them. This was one of those things/times. I thought it was a random thought at the time. Dismissed it quickly and went on with my day. I had no idea at the time of ‘the straw’ that was coming that evening. But I know God was not surprised.

It’s been a long known fact, the enemy uses the woman to get to the man. He did it with the first man and woman and his tactic has not changed. Pornography, prostitution, affairs are the most obvious. But the enemy is crafty and wise and uses women in much more subtle ways to attack the man as well. If the enemy knows that if he can take out the man he wins the family. I don’t know how it works in your relationships but here’s how it seems to plays out for us. For us, the enemy stands before the heart of my husband, accusing my intentions to him. It happens all the time. I hear it. I see it. I feel it. No matter how I try and communicate my love and interest in him and his life, he does not see it, feel it, or hear it. Because there is a force greater than Anna, twisting my words and whispering accusations at each juncture. And where is the strength of a man if his very support, his own ‘flesh’ is against him.

Scripture says that Jesus is the Bridegroom, we as His Redeemed, are the Bride. The enemy lost the battle in heaven. Rejected and enraged, he then goes off to attack the King of all heaven by attacking the woman and her offspring. So the picture here is that the Accuser stands between the Groom and the Bride, accusing them to one another. If he can get us to mistrust the heart of Jesus, we will reject his love and his sacrifice. If he can get Jesus to see our sin and unworthiness, then why would he ever want to rescue us? The plan for division is motion. If the enemy can create the division that the desires, we are condemned to eternal separation from God. If the plan between us and God works so well for the enemy, what greater plan than to use the same tactic between the husband and wife, an earthly picture of the Groom and his Bride. The enemy knows something that is true. A marriage relationship cannot survive mistrust, betrayal, or lack of unity. When he can create this, whether between us and God or a husband and wife, he wins.

I wish I could say these accusations over my intentions just affect Brad. But it doesn’t. It has a boom-a-rang effect. It affects me deeply. Because when an accusation of my intentions toward him are whispered to his heart, he repeats them out loud to me in the form of an accusation directly to me. And don’t you know, they are always aimed right at my weak spot — the essence of my beauty. He believes them as truth. He speaks them to me as truth. What I hear is a twisted representation of my intentions. It hurts me deeply that my intentions can be so misunderstood. I’m left feeling very accused. I’m left feeling very ugly and rejected at the heart. And then, to top it all off, Resignation and Defeat are standing over my shoulder whispering ‘Why do I try so hard? Why do I care so much?’ You see, without my heart’s good intentions toward Brad, I am merely selfish and no better than the adulterous woman spoken of in Proverbs who’s intentions are for his demise. Now that certainly is both of our heart’s desire!!!!!! No….

So with a tactic that is tried and true, the enemy wins a battle again and adds two casualties to his roster. Or seven if you count our children who have a God given radar of when mom and dad are not unified. He’s made a good study of us for sure, as I’m sure he has of your life. He knows just how to bring division and destroy the unity between us. He is very good at it. And of course, as long as we are unaware, the enemy wins another argument, another day, another battle. And if he wins, one more heart questions the good heart of God and the hope promised by knowing Jesus.

There is a force set against us. Some days my life does feel more like Mayberry. Not this week. This week felt like combat zone. For some reason I stubbornly prefer to hold on to a belief that my life should be peaceful and easy. I don’t like war. I hate it actually. My heart was made for Eden, a place of peace without conflict. I’m always ready to lay down the sword. It gets very heavy and my heart is often weak.

As I was writing this I remembered a recent devotional email from John Eldredge. I thought I would share it with you.

              The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life,  and have it to the full.  (John 10:10)

     Have you ever wondered why Jesus married those two statements? Did you even know he spoke them at the same time? I mean, he says them in one breath. And he has his reasons. By all means, God intends life for you. But right now that life is opposed. It doesn’t just roll in on a tray. There is a thief. He comes to steal and kill and destroy. Why won’t we face this? I know so few people who will face this. The offer is life, but you’re going to have to fight for it, because there’s an Enemy in your life with a different agenda.

           There is something set against us.

           We are at war.

 I don’t like that fact any more than you do, but the sooner we come to terms with it, the better hope we have of making it through to the life we do want. This is not Eden. You probably figured that out. This is not Mayberry, this is not Seinfeld’s world, this is not Survivor. The world in which we live is a combat zone, a violent clash of kingdoms, a bitter struggle unto the death. I am sorry if I’m the one to break this news to you: you were born into a world at war, and you will live all your days in the midst of a great battle, involving all the forces of heaven and hell and played out here on earth.

            Where did you think all this opposition was coming from?

         (Waking the Dead, 12–13)

 
 Heaven is not now. Not Yet. There is a day when the lion will lie down with the lamb. Where there will be peace without conflict. But not today. The greater potential your influence, the greater the attack against you and your witness of the things yet to come. The thief comes to steal your heart and your testimony about the strength of God and Hope He offers. He will kill your heart and your hope, and destroy whatever else he can in your life that he can get his clutches on. There is something set against us. We are at war. It will take a fierceness of heart to fight this vile enemy. His plan is most certainly in motion. How does it look in your life?

 And they overcame him by the blood of the lamb and the word of their testimony, they did not love their lives so much as to shrink from death. (Rev. 12:11)

 
 

 

Love Must Be Fierce

Isn’t he cute? How would you like him pinning you down, chewing on your face? Yes, I know… so I’ve heard….they are ‘affectionate’ dogs.

 
 Many days during our addition construction, we had workers of all kinds out at our house. One particular day, we had a group of men out that came to do sheet rock work. Praise the Lord, that we were able to pay someone to do this part! The company owner came out a few times to oversee the job. Because we live what most men consider ‘deer camp’, workers would occasionally bring their dog or dogs out with them. (Is this because dogs are ‘man’s best friend?’ I don’t really understand this at all, but oh well.) This particular day, they brought with them their full grown ‘puppy’, an English Bulldog. Of course the more dogs the merrier, right? The kids greeted the dog like a new friend.

My children were going in and out all day playing to their heart’s content outdoor, with one instruction, they were to stay away from the workmen. It was still early in the day. A little while after they had been outside playing, my 5 year old came in crying (like someone had just died). I managed to get him to tell me what was wrong. Through his sobs he was able to tell me that “that dog is eating Lilly”, our two year old. I immediately had visions of a little girl, torn limb from limb in bloody pieces. You have never seen a mother move so fast! I ran out of the house and down the walk with a speed that only comes from adrenaline. I rounded the corner of the house to see this dog firmly planted on top of Lilly. Her body was almost completely hidden under this dog. All I could see were her legs and she was lying perfectly still. I believed my worst fears were reality as this dog had her by the neck. I ran to the dog screaming wildly. The dog was not deterred. With all my might I shoved the dog off of her. He came again and I picked that dog up and flung it about 10 ft. as hard as I could. The dog came again and I went after the dog again with the screams of a mad woman. The entire work crew was now aware of what was going on and they were watching as this woman attacked the bulldog. I picked up my sobbing, scared baby girl who was not bleeding — yet. Afterward, I realized that she was terrified of the dog and was lying perfectly still trying to keep the dogs tongue out of her eyes and mouth, ears. (Do you see the tongue on this dog?) This was probably a very good thing, because the more she cried and squirmed, the more excited and aggressive the dog became. Thankfully, she managed to only have a few scratches on her. As the dog weighed more than her, he had her pinned down to where she could not move. The dog was determined enough and heavy enough that Reuben had been unable to get the dog off of her. He came in crying, looking for help. His crying was that he was not strong enough to save his sister and that he was sure she would be dead within minutes.

 By this point the dog owner came with much remorse and embarrassment to see what damage his dog had done to our little girl. He was extremely apologetic and locked the dog in the vehicle for the rest of the day. This momma informed him, frankly and with no apologies, that had that dog of hurt my baby, the dog would not be alive. With the adrenaline rush that I had, I firmly believe I could have torn that dog into pieces with my bare hands. Worst case, I would have used a gun. I was shaking for a few hours from that adrenaline rush. (Sorry dog lovers — or bull dog lovers; dogs may be cute, but ones that attack my children ARE NOT!)

 That dog never returned to our property.

 Over the last few years, that scene has returned to my mind on many occasions. I realized in that moment, just how fierce love can be. A fierceness came out of me that I was not aware I possessed.

 Our culture’s definition of Love is mushy and soft. We often see love through rose colored glasses. We think of it as something that would be ‘fun’ and enjoyable to experience. And it is at times the most fulfilling and enjoyable thing on earth. But when it’s no longer fun, soft or enjoyable, we say we’ve lost or fallen out of love. However, I have had to learn in the last few years, that like this particular day, Love must be fierce. There was a fierceness to my love that day that would have gone to great lengths to protect my precious baby girl.

  I’ve had to learn that love is fierce in a lot of other relationships as well. My marriage is one of those relationships. Marriage is not easy. In fact it is downright hard sometimes. Sometimes the things that confront our marriage are no less fierce than a bulldog at the throat. Being a parent is often the same. To be the wife and mother that I must be, at times my love must be fierce. I’ve heard of ‘Tough love’, but this doesn’t really begin to describe it. ‘Fierce’ does. I must fiercely at times defend my children and my marriage from the things that life throws our way. Sometimes, it is our own inner struggle over sin that must be fought fiercely. Fun and enjoyable doesn’t really describe this kind of love. That sounds like something more fitting for an amusement park. This is Life. We have an Enemy of old whose business is about our demise and destruction. He is at our throat more than we see or know.  Our Enemy is determined to destroy our testimony, the lives of our children and the stability of our marriages and homes. There is nothing amusing about that. The second I forget that love must be fierce, the enemy gains in the battle. If we want to be heroes and heroines to the treasures we have been entrusted with, our Love must be fierce. No exceptions.

Essays on Beauty: Anna and the King

 
 Beauty overwhelms us, enchants us, fascinates us and calls us.
–Fr. Andrew Greeley

 Brad and I have never had cable TV since we’ve been married. Most places we’ve lived, we get the major networks via the TV antennae. I grew up in a home where my mom hid the TV in the closet in hopes that we would forget we had it. I also think her idea was based on the principle that if something requires too much work to do it, then you just won’t do it. So since it was such a hassle to get the TV out of the closet, we supposedly would not go to the trouble to roll it out to watch it. Hmmm…. I think my kids kinda think about everything in their closets the same way. “Too much work, out-a-sight, out-a-mind.”

 Since we’ve lived in the country, we’ve gotten movies on Netflix. It started the week we brought Jonathan home from the hospital. I knew I’d have to have something to do to keep me down and resting… and it had been a few seasons since I had caught up with my favorite TV show, Alias. Jennifer Garner was my weekly heroine. She was kind of a superwoman. She lived a life I wished I had…. Well sorta. I completely liked the undercover spy part of it. She was one lonely girl though. What amazed me each week, was her bravery and courage in the face of grave danger and her strength to face those who were some days the evil villain and others her best ally.

Recently we received the old 1956 movie, The King And I with Yul Brynner and Deborah Kerr. It is a fictionalized story taken from the journals of Anna Leonowens of her days in the court of King Mongkut of Siam, present day Thailand. The movie’s setting is Siam 1862. I’ve seen the newer version, Anna and the King, and have loved it as well. I’ve watched it twice in the last few weeks, more if you count the times I’ve re-watched the ending with the kids who had gone to bed and didn’t get to finish the night before.

 This time around, I’ve seen things in the movie that I never saw before. First, though I’ve never really paid much attention to it before, the production is top notch even for today’s standards. But what impressed me more than the beautiful costumes, choreography or the set, was the interaction between Anna and the King. I watched Anna in awe. What a woman! Her very presence lit up the room. She was a heroine to all those that were around her. The king, who struggled like all men with what it meant to be a strong and ‘king’, and though often hiding behind his stubborn view of what a king should be (more like king-of-the-hill), found her utterly captivating. She was beautiful, but it was her heart that captured his heart and soul. Anna’s very essence was breathtaking. She brought life to those around her. It was the strength and beauty of her heart that swayed his mind and his thinking. Though he tried, he could not resist the influence of her beauty. She was strong, yet kind. Shrewd, wise, and yet utterly gracious. Gentle, yet brave. Delicate, but still courageous and unafraid. Though she was a widow, she had maintained a childlike delight in the world around her. She spoke her mind, but seemed to also know just what words were most appropriate for the moment. Seeing straight through his tough act to the real him, yet she never dishonored him.

 
 I found my thoughts drawn to another woman we find in Scripture, Esther, much like Anna, who also swayed the heart of a great king through the striking beauty of her strength of heart. “For such a time as this.” Esther, through the wisdom and grace found within her beauty, changed the course of history for an entire race of people, because she knew the influence she possessed as a woman.

 Not to spoil the movie for you, but in the end of the movie, the king dies. I cry every time like it is the first. Why is it always so hard to watch movies when one of the lovers die? He and Anna just previously had a sort of falling out over slavery (a big topic of the world due to the things going on in America over slavery). The scene opens with Anna packed and ready to leave on the boat to go back to England, when the king’s head wife enters with a letter of summons from the King. Anna had not known that he we was ill. She begins to read aloud as emotion and love for this King wells up within her. He wrote:

 

Dear Misses Anna,

While I am lying here, I think perhaps I die. This heart which you say I have not got, is matter of concern.

 It occurs to me, that there shall be nothing wrong that men shall die. For all that matters about men is that he should have tried his utmost best. In looking back, I discover that you think much on those people who require you live up to best of self.

You have spoken truth to me always, and for this I have often lost my temper on you. But now, I do not wish to die without saying this gratitude…and large respect, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera.
 

I think it very strange that a woman shall have been the most earnest help of all. But Misses Anna, You must remember that you have been a very difficult woman. And much more difficult than generality…”

 

Through her influence the King’s mind had changed on many issues. But those issues were all ‘generality’. ‘Much more than generality’, Anna had been very difficult on his heart. Through her strength and courage to go before the King of Siam, through her challenge of his set and determined ways of thinking, she not only changed the heart of a King, but she changed the country of Siam. And though change was painful, he loved her for it. Though they were worlds apart in so many ways, she had loved him, and he could not help but love her.

 What an inspiring picture of the power of influence by inner strength and beauty inherent in a woman. I think back at how many times I have, without even realizing it, found myself in a deadly resignation that “life is what it is” and there is nothing I can do to change things. Hopelessness. But I believe the story of our heroes and heroines teach us something different. Assuming that the Scriptures are really God’s love-story to us, I do not believe it is any chance that God wanted the stories of brave and courageous women to be lodged deep within the stories found the Bible. Oh, there are many men heroes of the Bible. But there are also quite a few ‘very difficult women’ who stood out from the rest. Ruth, Esther, Deborah, Sarah, Mary mother of Jesus, to name a few. Whatever their predicament they rose as royalty with dignity and honor, beauty and courage, “for such a time as this”. (Esther 4:14)

So Ladies, if you have ever been called a ‘very difficult woman’, you are in good company! You are in the presence of Royalty. But may we be ever ‘much more difficult than generality’.

Livin’ in the Country: Beware of Walking Washers

Since I’ve been married, I’ve pretty much lived on a concrete slab foundation. This house has a crawl space. This merely means that instead of having concrete underneath all of your flooring, you have wood plywood suspended over long boards that span the length or width of your house. There is a lot of discrepancy over which is preferred. I personally prefer a slab. My husband reminds me that on a slab we would not be able to remodel, move bathrooms, etc. After all of the adding on and remodeling we’ve gotten ourselves into here, I don’t think I would ever want to remodel or move a bathroom ever again!

 The problem with our particular crawl space is its echo-ey, bouncy floors. With 5 children, and wood floors, the noise of feet is sometimes deafening around here. Especially when the little ones use the 40 ft distance between the dishwasher in the kitchen and the back door as a runway for take-off… again, and again, and again. Despite the number of times they have gotten in trouble, they have come up with all sorts of relays to make good use of this straight-shot-distance. I personally can’t figure why they would see it as a runway at all. In our previous house (a slab foundation), ‘running in the house’ was something you shouldn’t do cause you might get hurt. Not because it was noisy. And if the kids did run, about the most they got from me was a stern look of “you better quit that.”

 Bouncy floors and washing machines most certainly do not get along. Lately, our washing machine seems to be out of balance more and more often. The only thing that I can think is causing it is the bouncy floors. It sets up a vibration all over the house. It’s probably similar to a small earthquake. We know it is spinning out when the candlesticks shake and the picture frames and dishes start rattling. Recently, as it has vibrated itself around in the laundry room, it has knocked the dryer off of its vent hole to the outside which then causes the dryer to vent inside and the house fills with humidity and lint. It is often that I hear the washer knocking around and I have to go stop it and restart it after I’ve re-distribute the wet laundry inside so it can finish it’s cycle and spin out.  
 

One day last week, I had done quite a few loads (we do an average of 2-3, sometimes 4 a day). I had set the timer to let me know when the washer was done, so I could stay on top of it and get them moved into the dryer. When the timer went off, I went back to the laundry room and tried to open the door. (I had closed the door to keep the humidity and lint in the laundry room and not spreading into the school room and the rest of the house.) I was able to get the door open 2 inches until “thud”. The door very firmly hit the side of the washer. The washer, in its excitement of spinning out, walked out into the room in front of the door. I almost began to panic as a million thoughts went through my mind of how in the world we were going to get in the room with the washer in front of the door! The hinges were on the inside! My own washer locked me out! As if its not bad enough having kids who try to sneak around and do things without my knowledge, now I had a washer who was falling into the same disobedient category! I had visions of now possessing a secret room in the house that had a locked door and no one would ever find out about. Next, I had visions of firemen axes splintering through the door to save the day.  
 

I shoved the door as hard as I could a few times trying to get the door open, even another 1/2 inch so that I might possibly reach my arm in there to push the washer. Not only was I shoving the washer full of wet clothes, the dryer was on the other side of the washer. This was the weekend my strong husband was camping so I was left to my own devices. With several very firm shoves on the door with all my might, I was able to get the door open just enough to squeeze my arm in up to my elbow. A few more shoves, now I could get my whole arm in. I began to shove the washer with a sideways bouncing motion, about 1/2 inch at a time, back into its place against the wall. It is really hard to shove something when you have only your arm and not the strength of your body to use as leverage. My shoulder being locked out, I didn’t have anything but my puny biceps and triceps to shove with. Though he might have been able to help shove the door, Brad’s strong muscles wouldn’t have helped much even if he were home. His big biceps would never have fit through that crack. He would have used the axe.  
 

After several minutes of awkwardly shoving and giving it all I had, I was finally able to open the door. Then I wanted to go in and spank that washer. Give it a good kick, right in the belly. To my own amazement I started talking to it, “Bad Washer! Bad washer! What do you think you’re doing walking out in the room?” I felt betrayed by my own washer. I’m sure if my kids would have been in ear shot they would have thought I’d lost my mind for sure!  
 

Then what happened next was probably closer to a scene out of a Jerry Lewis movie. I finished shoving it back into its spot. Then I opened the lid, grabbed the front of the washer and tilted it forward pulling it off its hind feet. (I had suddenly remembered in the user manual that the washer had a self-leveling feature and if you lean it forward and let it drop back on its hind feet, it will level itself… and then voila… a balanced washer! No more walking! ) So I dropped the washer, full of wet clothes, back onto its hind feet. Then before I had time to react, with my hands still inside the washer, the lid came slamming down right on the back of my hands. That was a bad idea. I got a pretty bad bruise on the back of my right hand from that. The washer broke one of my veins that now protrude after all my pregnancies.  
 

So the moral of the story: If you live on a crawl space, you may do well to bring in a concrete slab to set your washer and dryer on to prevent vibrations and the washer from going out of balance and walking around by itself. Or, just do like you’re supposed to do to child proof your stove and bolt it down so it can’t walk. And definitely, don’t put your hands inside the washer while trying to use the self-leveling feature.  
 

PS.. If you’re handy and not afraid of the dark and cobwebs, there is a way to go inside the crawl space and actually brace the floor between the joists from underneath to stop the bouncing. I’m waiting on my husband to do this. But its seems he doesn’t like the crawl space much more than I do.

Livin’ in the Country: Beware of Orange Hair

I’ve lived relatively all of my life in the ‘city’. Yes, I know that most of the places I’ve lived in Arkansas would not be considered ‘city’ to most people who actually live in real cities. But compared to what I’ve experienced the last few years, I was definitely a city girl. When we were ‘lookin’ the place over’ before we bought, I had several things I was VERY hesitant about. Did I mention that I was VERY hesitant? One of the things I was concerned about was the rust in the water. I knew that the house was on a well, and I had grown up with relatives who have also been on well water. ( I frankly think there could be a book written about ‘How to live on well water’.) So, I asked the sweet lady who was trying to escape the little house, “Do you have iron in your water?” “Oh, No!” she said. “We used to have terrible problems with it but now I have a filter system that completely fixes the problem.” I probed a little deeper, “Can you use bleach in your laundry?” “Oh, Yes!” she replied, “You should not have any problems at all with that.”

Knowing what little I did know about living on well water, I was a little skeptical of this response. I had secretly spied out where the washer dispensed water into the tub, was a little orange. However, what was I supposed to say when she insisted that the problem was fixed?

 
 

About 3 months after living here, and our filter being changed every 28 days by a local toothless drug support group (notice I did not say rehab group), I happened to notice that my blond hair was orange…. in spots. It was the spot that the very hot water which came out of the shower head hit the back of my head and neck. To say I was a little concerned was an understatement. To say I did not want to leave the house, was an understatement. To say that I did not happily greeted my wonderful husband that night when he got home, was an understatement. After all, this was ALL HIS FAULT! If he had not moved me out here to ‘deer camp’, I would still have blond hair! He was met at the door with, “Honey, do you think my hair looks a little orange? Or is it just me?” “Oh yes dear, now that you mention it, it does look quite orange!” I began to wonder if my skin would also take on the orange glow of that fake-bake-in-a-bottle, sunless tanning lotion.

 
 

So, after much internet research and a SOS call to the water filter people, I was able to fix the orange hair and get it back to blond. (They brought a new filter and didn’t really care much about my orange hair.) A vinegar and lemon juice rinse several times will strip the orange out pretty satisfactorily. Though if you use apple cider vinegar, be forewarned you might just smell like vinegary apple pie for a few days.  Ashley thought I was completely tortuous to have her rinse her long locks in vinegar.  She complained for several days. I now have a regular date with lemon juice, my preferred method of choice. 
 

The white laundry was not so easy. I managed to find a product at trusty Wal-mart called Iron Out, which for sure promised to eat your eyes and lungs out (and maybe even melt your orange hair and your clothes off) if you happen to let it get close to you. Don’t you know, it works in the toilets too…. If you can hold your breath long enough to pour it in the tank and let it sit for 5 minutes. You may have to wash your shower curtains regularly with it as well, because they also will turn orange. I managed to round up the whites and gave them a good soaking in the Iron Out. Unfortunately I got a few pink items in the load and a few things with ‘red’ elastic or trim… and they all turned salmon pink. Jonathan’s little race car underwear look a little pink now on the waist band. Seeing as he’d rather go commando most of the time, I guess it doesn’t matter much.

  

Now, I watch the calendar VERY closely hoping to ward off any very real and potential problems. I am not a happy camper if the filter people even wait till day 29 to come instead of day 28! I feel like a VCC (a very cantankerous customer). But hey, I have blond hair people!

 

Check back, and keep reading. I have MORE stories about wonderful well water!

  

And by the way, in case you don’t know your chemistry, you cannot use chlorine bleach to clean when you have iron in your water. Even if you can’t see the iron in your water, you WILL see it when you put chlorine into it. It will turn coffee brown as the chlorine oxidizes the iron. There, don’t you feel a little smarter now? Stay tuned. Watch for the next lesson on Iron Bacteria.

Livin’ In the Country

I’m starting a new section of my blog, or should I say Category called “Livin’ in the Country”. I have quite a few interesting stories that are directly related to living in the country and it would be good to have them archived somewhere. And you, as a voyeuristic reader, may enjoy, and by a long stretch… may actually benefit from them.