The Love of a Father

A long time ago, in a land far, far away, a Father lovingly gazed upon his only children.  These children were unique in that they were innocent.  They were pure.  They were sinless, guiltless, guileless.  They didn't know the difference between right and wrong.  They loved Him and His creation with a full heart that knew no deception.

This Father, basking in the perfection of the land and children He had created could have chosen to preserve their innocence at all costs.  He could have chosen not to allow these perfect children to taste the fruit of disobedience.  They could have lived their days in blissful ignorance, walking with Him in the cool of the evening and partaking of His great providence.

Instead, this Father gave His children the greatest gift.  He gave them the freedom of choice.  In His wisdom, He knew that their love was hollow when they had no choice but to give it.  Rather than seeking to protect His children from themselves, He allowed them to choose for themselves and then live with the consequences of their choices.  He loved His children enough to give them their freedom.

Our nation is at a crossroads.  Our government is desperately trying to relieve us of the responsibility to choose for ourselves.  In an effort to keep us "safe" they are stripping us of our right to choose - a right given to us by our Father at the foundations of the earth.

Our Father chose to allow us freedom, even though the cost would be deadly and eternal.  He knew that by giving us freedom to choose, we would lose our innocence, lose our perfection and even lose our lives.  But, He chose go give us our freedom anyway.  Because He loves us that much.

I know how much our Father loves us.  Now I ask, how much does our government love us?

Obey your Elders

Maid Elizabeth found this on a site she frequents.  Sometimes young bucks need to be disciplined by their elders!  I have the feeling these young men may think twice before they try breaking bad again....

Let us Reason Together

When I was in school, a majority of my classmates had little or no interest in current events.  Oh, big things like what pop star had a chart topping single or who was winning the Super Bowl peaked their interest, but little things, like what was happing in Chechnya or who was really to blame in the Iran-Contra affair left them glassy-eyed and limp.  When I would start talking about Lt. Oliver North or bleeding-heart liberals, they would roll their eyes and say things like "She's a nice girl, but strange".

Not only were politics off-limits to my classmates, religion was as well.  When I would ask if Christians had to live by Old Testament Law or if they were governed by Grace alone, my friends would laugh and say "who cares?   What are you wearing to the dance on Friday night?"  I just didn't get it - they didn't seem to care about the things that I thought were most important in life.

When I became a mother I wanted to pass my vision, my passion, on to my children.  I wanted them to seek God and love Him.  I wanted them to know what was going on in the world and to stand up for what was right and good.  I wanted them to be able to reason - to make their case - to be engaged.  And so, I started thinking about how I became engaged.  What I discovered startled me and changed my entire view on education and parenting.

When I was very young, my parent became Christians.  They were good friends with another couple that were new Christians themselves.  Our families would get together frequently and our parents would talk.  No, they did more than talk.  They would pull out their bibles start turning pages and talking a mile a minute.  "It says we need to...", "Yes, but over here, it says this...".  Pages turned, thoughts were exchanged, excitement filled the air.  I sat, listening, mesmerized.  My parents were passionate.  They genuinely wanted to know the truth.  They genuinely wanted to do God's will.  They were true seekers.  As I listened to my parents and their friends, I was engaged.  Here was a group of adults reasoning together, and we, their children, longed to be a part of this great thing. Never, in children's church or youth group had I been so effectively engaged than sitting in my living room listening to my elders.  If I had a question, I would timidly, quietly ask.  Immediately pages flew and my dad, my mom and our friends would seek God's answer.  They would explain verses, help me understand the meaning.  They made me want to know.

I came to find out that I was not the first child to be engaged by reasoning with their elders.  Jesus, when he was twelve was found in the temple reasoning with the elders.  He wasn't hanging out with a group of his peers, talking about their latest happenings, he was engaged with the elders of the land.

My dad has always been politically aware.  During our evening meal, my parents would often talk about what was going on in the world.  Not only did we discuss current events, we discussed how those events lined up with scripture.  We talked about the morality of any given situation and discussed how God would have had us handle the situation.  My brother and I reasoned together with our parents.  Their take on political and religious issues weren't relegated to dusty books filled with dates and useless information, they were alive, relevant and engaging.

Do you ever wonder why our population is spiritually bankrupt and politically apathetic?  Perhaps it is because we have never reasoned with our elders.  Perhaps the only reasoning we do involves mass media and an agenda driven educational system.  Perhaps our reasoning skills revolve around an Xbox and an Ipod.

Sir Knight and I frequently discuss the state of the nation, moral issues and religion.  We question, we search and we dig deep.  When we are in the midst of a rousing conversation our children are glued to our side.  They have questions.  They have ideas.  They have input.  Because we talk about all of life, they are aware and engaged.  They would much rather discuss Middle Eastern relations and Israel's place in the world than they would major league sports.  They hunger for biblical answers to the modern problems our world faces and desire to know how they fit into the grand scheme of things.  They love to sit at the feet of their parents and reason with their elders.

As parents and elders we need to engage our children.  We need to reason with them day and night.  We need to talk about what is going on in the world and seek after the truth.  We need to engage our children in the history we are making.  The greatest education comes not from books, facts and figures but from the young reasoning with the old.

And so I say....Come, let us reason together.

The Grape Nuts Effect

I was six, maybe seven.  I swear when I pulled the bowl from the cupboard it looked like a normal cereal bowl.  Innocently, I filled the bowl (to the brim) with Grape Nuts and milk and settled in for a lovely breakfast.  However, with my first bite, I found, to my horror, that I HATED Grape Nuts!  How could this be?  My dad LOVED them.  They were the staple of his breakfast routine.  How was I to know that they were heinous?  Suddenly that petite cereal bowl looked something akin to a 2 quart mixing bowl.  I sat staring in horror at the thick, heavy mess before me and knew, somehow, that this would be a defining moment in my young life.  I was right.

As I tip-toed through the kitchen, trying to get to the garbage can before one of my parents spotted me, a voice behind me said "Enola, what are you up to?".  Turning, I saw my dad standing in the doorway.  As I mumbled something about not being hungry, I saw a look cross my dad's face that was rather unfamiliar to me.  It was a cross between determination and righteous indignation.  "I see you poured yourself some Grape Nuts, how do you like them?" my dad asked.  "They were really good, dad, but I'm not hungry anymore", I said in my most innocent voice.  "Enola, you took way too much.  You can't just throw it away.  Grape Nuts are expensive, and you should have asked before you helped yourself.  You need to eat those."  Horror of horrors!  He wanted me to eat this sopping, soggy mess of nastiness.  "But daddy, I'm full!  I won't take them again without asking, I promise!" I said.

My father is not a hard man.  He loves his children fiercely and has always been our greatest champion, however, he knew that he was forming the generations that would form this nation.  He knew that we had to be responsible for our own actions, even when it was uncomfortable, and, quite frankly, yucky (if you don't understand yucky, just try eating soggy Grape Nuts for breakfast, lunch and dinner until your 2 quart bowl of them is gone!).  He knew that he had to teach us to discipline ourselves, even when our eyes were bigger than our stomachs.  He knew that he was laying the groundwork the for the kind of adults we would become.  Even though he came to regret his edict regarding the Grape Nuts (I didn't know this until I became an adult), I am thankful he didn't bend.  The lesson that bowl of Grape Nuts taught me has traveled with me throughout my entire life, providing a compass setting that points true north.

We make choices every day.  When I was six, I chose to fill a huge bowl with Grape Nuts  without my father's permission.  Had I asked, my dad would have had me taste a bit, to see if I like it.  Instead, I helped myself to way more than I could possibly eat.  Instead of letting me throw the cereal away, dad had me eat it, breakfast, lunch and dinner until it was gone.  Through that lesson, I learned a lot about life.  I learned to ask before taking.  I learned never to take more than I could use.  I learned that when I am in a hard situation, regardless of the cause, that I have to find my bootstraps, give them a good yank, and do what needs to be done, even if it is soggy, icky and distasteful.  I learned the value of walking through messes and coming out the other side, rather than having my messes cleaned up for me.  I learned that being a good parent means helping our children through the problems of life rather than preventing problems from touching them.  I learned that Grape Nuts are horrible, but when I take them, I have to eat them.  I also learned that when someone else serves Grape Nuts, I must smile graciously, politely eat them and then get on with the rest of my day.  In essence, Grape Nuts taught me to be tough in any situation (just ask a six year old who had to finish her bowl of Grape Nuts - tough indeed!).

I love my dad for many things, not the least of which is the Grape Nuts Effect.  That one moment in history was a defining factor in how I view my world.  Because my dad knew the importance of training his children, I have reaped the benefits of not being at the whim of bad situations.  No matter what the struggle, I approach it just like I approached that bowl of Grape Nuts, with dogged determination and a will of steel.  I refuse to be a victim , be it from my own choices or unfortunate circumstances.  I will walk through my messes and come out wiser and stronger - all because of a silly bowl of Grape Nuts and a dad who loved me.

It Really IS all About You

My children, as they go about their business of growing up, provide my muse.  I was listening to the kids cleaning their bedrooms upstairs and one began to chide the other over some perceived offense or another.  I called them down and instructed the older to consider her words and her tone before she spoke to her younger sibling - I expected her to be encouraging and kind rather than flippant and degrading.  Much to my chagrin, my daughter responded in an unfailingly human manner - she blamed her sister.  "Mom, she wasn't doing what she was supposed to - she was just lolly gagging around not doing anything!"  Truth be told, that may well have been the case, however, my instruction was not directed to my younger daughter.  It had been to my older daughter and her attitude and tone of voice.  She alone was responsible for that, not her little sister.  Her little sister was responsible for her own self.

Isn't that the way of human nature?  When confronted with our own failings, we race to blame someone else.  "He made me do it", "If she hadn't done that, I wouldn't have had to react that way", "If they had done their part, I wouldn't be in this position right now".  But the truth of the matter is that we ARE responsible for our own selves.  WE alone control how we behave, what we do and how we do it.  When we cease to be responsible for our own actions, we give control of our lives to other people.  And by shirking responsibility for our own lives we, by default, become slaves.

Being responsible for ourselves is much easier said than done.  Swallowing our pride and admitting our shortcomings takes courage and fortitude.  It is by far easier to blame someone else for our poor behavior than to own it.  Learning responsibility begins at home.  It is taught by parents who love their children and never want them to become slaves.  Wise parents realize that when children don't learn to take responsibility for themselves, it opens the door for someone else to step in and take responsibility.  When we don't teach our kids responsibility, they grow up being, well, irresponsible.  They don't pay their medical bills, forcing the state to pick up the tab.  When the state picks up the tab, they will tell you what you can and cannot do with your body, thereby making you a slave.  It is happening already, in nearly every area of our lives.  We have shirked our responsibility, opening wide the door for government to step in and reduce us to little more than vassals.

And so you see, it really IS all about us.  The world does revolve around us, as individuals.  Our nation will go the way the individual goes.  When we choose to not take responsibility, our ability to take make our own choices will be stripped from us.  We are not a collective, reliant on each other for our prosperity - we are individuals, making our own future.  We are responsible.  It really is all about us.

The Wisdom of our Fathers

It has been said "those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it" (Santayana).  The same could be said about the wisdom learned and accepted from one generation to the next.

When I was a little girl, I hung on every word my parents said.  In my child-like mind, they knew absolute truth.  I never questioned them.  I had complete faith in their decisions.  There were many times that I didn't like what they had to say, but I never questioned that it was right.

As I grew, my parents continued to speak truth into my life.  When I would come home from school, crushed from some bully's unkind remarks, my mother would gently console me - then she would teach me how to discern the real nature of the hurtful remarks and how to respond to the bully in the future.  She was always right.

The older I became, the more wisdom my parents poured into me.  They taught me, through their years of accumulated experience and searching for the truth, how to view the world.  They taught me right from wrong, good from bad and how to see through a facade of deception to grasp the truth.

And then I grew up.  Suddenly, as a young woman  making my own way in the world, I knew more than my parents did.  My once wise parents became back-woods bumpkins, knowing nothing about the modern world.  They didn't understand this new, modern world into which I had stepped.  My conversations with my parents, although still frequent, became disrespectful and condescending.  When they would express doubt about my chosen path, I would spurn their concerns, knowing that they just didn't understand "my generation".   In my youthful arrogance, I was convinced that the world had changed, and my parents knew nothing of the world in which I lived.

As worldly wise as I was, I was too foolish to realize that the problems of the world never change.  They appear different, but the root is always the same.  True wisdom transcends the ages.  Only the foolish believe that their experience in the world is new.

By the grace of God, my prideful, disrespectful attitude was quickly humbled by failure.  And, also by the grace of God, my parents bore my arrogant pride with long-suffering and unconditional love.  To this day, because of the wretched embarrassment it would cause me, they never mention my foray into omniscience.  Through the love of my parents and the grace of Almighty God, I learned, once again, to trust the wisdom of my parents.  Not only my parents, but my grandparents, my aunts and uncles and all of those who have walked before me.

I learned, from being prideful and arrogant, that I knew nothing.  I learned that, although not perfect, my elders knew more about life than I did.  I learned that I had so much to learn.

So, what, other than being a charming little anecdote, does this story have to do with the price of tea in China?   It has to do with looking to our past to determine our future.

We live in a society that has forgotten the wisdom of our fathers.  We behave like spoiled, prideful children, spurning our parents advice.  We are certain that our fore-bearers, who, incidentally, managed to build the most successful country in the world, were nothing more than back-woods bumpkins.  Systematically, we are dismantling what our fathers built and are replacing it with politically correct, pseudo-intellectual facades doomed to crumble under the pressure of reality.  Our prideful arrogance will fail us.

Our fathers knew things that we have forgotten.  Right is right and wrong is wrong.  Life is hard, but the the hardships temper us, making us stronger.  Circumstances don't make the person, rather the person defines the circumstances.  Life isn't safe.  Hard work isn't something to be avoided, it gives us purpose.  Life is bigger than just me.  One of our greatest gifts is our right to live how we choose - we give that up when we allow someone else to be responsible for our lives.

It is time for us to regain the wisdom passed on to us by our forefathers.  Our rebellion has brought us nothing but weakness and failure and unhappiness.  We need to reclaim our history, learn from our mistakes.  Only when we remember the wisdom of the past will we have a straight path for the future.

The pursuit of happiness

So many times, as I instruct my children in the finer points of becoming productive members of society, I am struck by an undeniable truth that seems so painfully obvious that I am surprised I have lived this long without realizing it.  One such revelation came to me as two of my children and I were embroiled in a discussion on personal responsibility.

Recently, I heard yelling coming from the living room and when I investigated I found one of my children holding their arm complaining that the other one had smacked them.  "You did what!?!" I said, barely believing what I heard.  Then the excuses started coming.  "He thunked me first!"  "Well, she made a face at me."  "He said I looked good in pink - and you know how much I hate pink!" And on, and on and on it went.  Finally, after shushing them both, I turned to the one who had done the smacking.  I informed her that she had no business thunking her brother, under any circumstances.  Immediately, she tried to convince me that it was really his fault, because he had smacked her first.  An untenable situation, right?  Nope.  Because the reality is, each kid was responsible for their own actions.

As Sir Knight and I strive to raise wholesome, character-filled children, one of the main themes of our discourse is personal responsibility.  Each person needs to be responsible for their own actions, regardless of what someone else does.  While smacking someone who smacks you is the commonly accepted, standard response, it renders you a victim.  Rather than choosing how to respond in any given situation, you relinquish your choice and react based on someone else's actions.  In other words, you allow someone else's actions determine what you do.

I was considering the moral implications of personal responsibility and suddenly I realized that personal responsibility is inextricably woven together with the pursuit of happiness.  Only through being responsible for our own actions, regardless of external circumstances can we truly achieve happiness.  I have watched the dance unfold before my eyes too many times to count.  I have seen my children blame each other, getting more defensive, angry and sullen as they continue to excuse their poor behavior.  But then, I have seen them, to my great pride, say "Yes, I did that.  I behaved inexcusably and I am sorry.  I shouldn't have done that".  And you know what?  They were happy.  Gone, was their defensive, angry, sullen attitude.  It was replaced by an attitude of humility.  Not only did they take responsibility, they gained wisdom by admitting their failures.  They learned.  They gained character.  They earned self-respect.  They earned my respect.

Our founding fathers realized that the only way we would be free to pursue happiness was by taking responsibility for ourselves.  One of the reasons Patrick Henry was so vehemently opposed to the ratification of the constitution was because he believed it took responsibility from the people and gave it to the government.  He was right.  He knew that when people were given a large central government, they would have someone to blame for every evil. And when they blamed someone else, they would shirk their own responsibility.  And when they shirked their responsibility, they would become victims.

Have you ever noticed that people who blame everyone else for their circumstances are terribly unhappy?  They are constantly in trouble and it is never their fault.  They are angry and sullen.  They never learn.  They are always the victim.  They never rise above their circumstances.  Contrast that with people who screw up, admit they were wrong and take steps to remedy the situation.  Contrast that with people who choose to do the right thing when confronted with unfairness or abuse or tragedy.  These people are given to the pursuit of happiness.  These are the people that change the world.  These are the people that build strong families. These are the families that build strong nations.

As I corrected my children, teaching them never to blame someone else for their behavior, I realized that in my own small way, I had the opportunity to change the world.  I could start, with the five souls entrusted to Sir Knight and I, to teach them personal responsibility.  I could show them, that by being responsible for themselves, they would be placed firmly on the road to happiness.  I could teach them that by taking responsibility for their actions, they would not only be helping themselves, but they would, in fact, be contributing to the "common good".

And so, if you want to find happiness in this lifetime, don't let anyone else choose how you behave.  Take responsibility for yourself.  Learn from your mistakes.  Embrace life's bumps and bruises and do the right thing - no matter what!  There is a price to be paid for the pursuit of happiness.  That price is personal responsibility.

Turning Boys into Men

The longer I am the mother of sons, the more convinced I am, that as a society, we are failing at turning our boys into men.  Our young men are entering the adult world more concerned with having the newest cell phone or gnarliest tattoo rather than bothering themselves with standing up for what they believe is right or providing for their family.  They are selfish, self-centered, unused to working and truly believe that the world revolves around them.  They are disrespectful, hate authority, and think the world owes them a living.  And as parents, we share in the burden of blame.

For years, I have pondered the state of our young men, and wondered at the remedy.  I have come to the conclusion that the answer doesn't lie in providing boys with more stuff, filling them with self-esteem or pandering to their over-inflated sense of self.  It lies in skipping adolescent angst and progressing systematically from boyhood to manhood.

When Master Hand Grenade was 12, I noticed a change in his countenance.  He gradually changed from a little boy, looking to his mother for guidance and affirmation to a young man, choosing to spend his time watching and learning the ways of men.  The way that he responded to me changed.  No longer did he appreciate me organizing and dictating every hour of his day.  He wanted autonomy.  He wanted to have input in the goings on of daily life.  As a mother, I rebelled.  Who was he to tell me how he wanted some things to be done?  He was the child - I was the mother!  And then I realized that my role as a mother was changing.  Yes, I was his mother, but I was also a woman, and in reality, men don't like to be ordered about by women, even their mother.

This new development put me in quite a quandary.  Now I needed to figure out how to balance being a mother, in charge of teaching school and mandating chores and being a woman, allowing my son to take his rightful place as a man, practicing to be the head of a household.

Truthfully, after years of thinking on these things, I still don't have the answers.  I do, however, have some theories.  I have come to the conclusion that young men, when they reach the age of 12, should be out from under their mothers roof.  Now before everyone starts yelling, let me explain.  By out of the house, I don't think that 12 year olds should move out and make their own way in the world - heaven forbid!  I do, however, think they need to be out of the house, working alongside of men, learning discipline, work ethic and responsibility from an older man.

In my perfect world, Master Hand Grenade would be home until noon each day.  He would finish his schooling, chores and whatever other home responsibilities he had and then he would spend the rest of the day, until dinner, working on becoming a man.  He would dig ditches, build houses, put up hay and chop wood.  He would learn to be on time, to work hard, to be tough.  He would learn to work when he wanted to be anywhere else and put in a full day when his muscles were aching and tired.  He would learn the value of physical labor and a dollar earned.  He would learn true self-respect, not the prolific lie of self-esteem.  He would skip being a "teenager" and go strait to manhood.  He would be a man worthy of marrying your daughter and being the father of your grandchildren.  He would be a man of God.

The reality of my perfect world is anything but perfect.  Our society doesn't value the same things that I value.  Our society worships youth, not the respectability of manhood.  We applaud the folly of a child rather than venerating the character of the truly humble, self-controlled man.  We are teaching our boys to be boys and wondering why they are not men.

The truth of the matter is that Master Hand Grenade is still under my roof, instead of learning beside his father or another Godly man.  Our government has deemed him too young to have a job.  The craftsman taking an apprentice is from a bygone era.  And so we pray.  We pray that we will have the wisdom to raise Master Hand Grenade and Master Calvin to have a great desire to be a men rather than boys.  I pray that I am able to balance being a mother and a woman encouraging her men to be leaders.

I believe we need to rethink the way we turn boys into men.  Our families, our country our very society depends on it.

Men-In-Training

One of my greatest joys in life is watching my little boys take up the mantle of manhood.  The sweetness of little boys is balm to a mothers heart.  My little boys have brought crumpled wads of weeds to present to me as great gifts and it brings tears to my eyes.  My little boys love to give me kisses with gooey, chocolate covered lips and I welcome their adoration, knowing that some day they will choose to give their kisses to another.  But, what I love the most, is watching my sons embrace the character qualities of real men.  I love watching them take dominion over their environment.  I love watching them rush to protect their sisters if they perceive a threat.  I love watching them learn by their fathers side.

Yesterday, I was watching Sir Knight engaging Master Calvin in battle.  Master Calvin was watching every move his father made.  He copied his battle tactics exactly.  He held his sword, moved his feet and even made the same guttural sounds his dad did.  He was learning to be a man.  

Master Hand Grenade is also learning at his fathers side.  He is learning to work on engines, cut wood, clean and shoot rifles and help me in the kitchen.  He is learning to be "Job Foreman" when his dad is not home, and take responsibility to see that a job is done well.  He is learning to direct his siblings, but do it in a way that is just and merciful.  He is learning the way of a man.

Our sons are the future leaders of our families, our churches and our country.  I am so thankful that I have a husband who is teaching my sons to be men.  I look around at the alternative and it is unacceptable.  I do not want some school teacher, cub scout leader or movie star being the driving force in my sons' lives.  God gave them a father to show them the way.  No one is better suited, or has a better reason to see my sons become the men God intended them to be than their father.  He is uniquely suited for the task.  

My young men are Men-In-Training and their Master is their Father.  I am truly blessed beyond measure.

Men at Work

Land Cruisers eat brakes.  At least that is what my husband says.  Sir Knight has changed brakes on our trucks more times than he can count.  This time, both our Cruiser and Maid Elizabeth's needed brakes so Sir Knight decided that he would do one set of brakes while Master Hand Grenade assisted and Master Hand Grenade would do one set of brakes while Sir Knight assisted.  There is something about useful, handy men that I find incredibly attractive!

Getting the tire off....

Working together.....

All hands are needed......

Look Faver... I found it!

A teaching moment...

Turning wrenches....

Rattling the tire back on!

What a blessed woman I am, to have a husband that can do ANYTHING!  And all the more blessed that he is teaching my son the ways of a man.

Credit Card Parenting

Thursday, June 17, 2010

Credit Card Parenting

When I was growing up, my mom and dad often said that they had disciplined my brother and I when we were little so that they would like us when we were older.  Of course, I didn't fully understand this statement until I was grown and had children of my own.

It wasn't until we had our oldest daughter that I began to realize the true significance of my parents statement.  Sir Knight and I endeavored, from the time Maid Elizabeth was a little girl, to raise her to be obedient, respectful, kind and responsible.  The most resistance we encountered was from, can you believe it, other parents!  While we expected our daughter to obey the first time we spoke, her playmates were allowed free rein.  Outrageous disrespect and just plain naughtiness was regularly excused under the umbrella statement "it's just a phase".  It wasn't.  These same children grew up on Ritalin and other mind-altering drugs, plugged into the TV or video games day and night, with their parents ringing their hands saying things like "I just don't know what happened - we gave him everything, and look how he has repaid our love".

They did give their kids everything.  Everything that is but discipline.  Everything but guidelines and boundaries.   They succumbed to Credit Card Parenting.

Sir Knight coined the phrase "Credit Card Parenting" while watching some kids in front of us at church.  One family, in particular, had the happy distinction of raising 8 perfectly awful hooligans.  These kids, while quite old enough to control themselves, took every opportunity to crawl under the pews, look up ladies skirts, lay on the floor and kick elderly folks in the ankles.  All the while, their parents sat, apparently completely unaware, sweetly singing hymns, or with hands folded on their bibles, graciously smiling at the pastor.  When confronted with their children's unacceptable behavior, they merely chalked it up to "kids will be kids", or "It's just a phase, they will grow out of it".  Of course, their kids didn't "grow out of it" and now their adult lives look like so many train wrecks.  Credit card parenting.

Ultimately, as parents, we have to deal with poor behavior, disobedience and disrespect now, or we will be paying later....with interest.  Compound interest at that.  And, to top it off, not only will we have to pay, our children will have to pay the interest debt also, with broken lives and hopeless existences.

Not too long ago, Sir Knight was sitting in the waiting room at our local dentist office and a woman who had been our neighbor when Maid Elizabeth was little was sitting in the next seat.  A slouching, unhappy looking young man was sitting next to her.  The woman immediately recognized my husband, and started talking about the "old days" when we had been neighbors.  She talked about our children playing together, and how cute they were then.  Then she went on to say "don't you just HATE teenagers?  They are terrible, I can't stand them.  At least when they were little, they were cute!  Don't you HATE teenagers?".  Her son was sitting right next to her!  He was made in her own image.  He was what she had designed him to be.

Now, don't everyone start yelling at once.  I fully understand that children are people with their own moral compass.  I know that children are sinners too, and sometimes, regardless of their parents best efforts will fall into the trap of sin.  But, I also know, that when we give our children guidelines and loving discipline, we are, in essence, giving them hope for the future.  If we train them, when they are young, to obey our instructions, how much easier, when they are older, will it be for them to obey God's instructions?  How can teaching our children respect and responsibility ever produce bad fruit?  And, yes, when you discipline your children when they are young, you will enjoy them when they are older.

One of Sir Knight and my greatest joys are evenings spent with Master Hand Grenade (14) and Maid Elizabeth (21) after the littler children have gone to bed.  What fun they are!  We talk about everything under the sun.  Last night it was a discussion on the differences between the Kingdom of Judah and the Kingdom of Israel.  Fascinating!  They knew so much more than I would have given them credit for.  And then, Maid Elizabeth tucked her cold feet under Master Hand Grenade's shirt, and the evening digressed from there.  I had to make a run to the bathroom from laughing to hard!  And who said teenagers were terrible?  I've never had so much fun!

Whatever you do, don't become a victim of a credit card scam!  You will miss out on some of the greatest blessings of you life - liking your children!

Sir Knight with Hand Grenade (in their kilts!)

Maid Elizabeth (trying not to laugh)

Maid Elizabeth and Master Calvin

Children truly are a blessing from the Lord.

My Men

Friday, May 7, 2010

My Men

My men are purveyors of manliness.  They play hard, fight hard, pray hard and love hard.  They are the men we need in this world.  This is how they spend some of their time...


Eldest son instructing on our motocross "course"...

My husband  and youngest son spending quality time...

Eldest son riding "Vera".... (in his kilt!)

Husband cutting our soap.... (I cut the first batch - it looked like rats gnawed it!)

Eldest son running the chainsaw - no mother should have to watch this!.....

Youngest son cleaning up his mess....

Husband having a "teachable moment" with youngest son....

So there you have it.  My real men!!!  Oh, if only there were more of them.

God's System of Government

Saturday, March 20, 2010

God's System of Government

It is amazing to me how parenting teaches us many of the lessons we need to learn.  For many years, I have struggled with my position as a wife and mother.  Where do I fit? From reading the Bible, I know that I need to be obedient to my own husband, but how does that translate into everyday living?  I know that he is the Head of our family, the leader, and I am support staff, but what does that look like?  Does that mean that I can never voice an opinion and have to meekly accept any decisions my husband makes with nary the bat of an eyelash?  I have struggled to find a balance in my position.  A wise man takes his wife's counsel, but how do I know when I am "counseling" him or just telling him what to do and how to do it?  Interestingly, it was an encounter with my oldest daughter that answered many of these questions for me.

I was having a rather prickly moment with my two middle children regarding the state of their bedrooms.  Maybe prickly isn't quite the right word - picture a volcano spewing smoke, getting ready to blast and rain molten lava and rock on the face of the countryside - that might be a little more accurate.  Anyway, as I spewed away, justifiably, of course, my eldest daughter broke in and said, "enough, Mom - you have no business talking to them like that!".  Immediately, I saw red.  She had no business speaking to me like that!  I was the mom - she was the daughter.  She was out of order!  Then it hit me. It wasn't that what eldest daughter had said was wrong, in fact, she was quite right - it was that it was out of order, therefore it was offensive.  Had eldest daughter talked to me later, when I was receptive, or if she had quietly asked to speak to me elsewhere, out of siblings listening ears, I would have seen her wisdom and responded much more positively to her words.  Her words would have been spoken in the appropriate manner, in order, therefore they would have been received.  My eyes were opened.  The nature of eldest daughter's offense with me was exactly the nature of my offense with my husband.  No wonder he didn't respond well to my words of wisdom.  My words were offensive, because they were out of order!  I wasn't waiting for the appropriate time to talk with him and I wasn't speaking to him with respect, but more like a mother chastising her small child.  Oh, how offensive my words and very attitude must have been to him!  It wasn't that I wasn't "right" approaching my husband with my grievances - my thoughts were justified and timely, but I was offensive in the manner in which I delivered my "wisdom".

I was so excited so have learned this little pearl of knowledge that I couldn't wait to put it into practice and see the results.   Typically, all to soon, I had the chance.  One of our friends sons was spending the day with us, and he and eldest son were busy playing outside.  My husband had planned to work on the wood deck and headed out to get his chainsaw and gear together and put the boys to work splitting wood with the log splitter.  The minute they saw him come out the door, they high-tailed it for the woods!  They knew there was work to be done, but thought they could get out of it by getting out of Dodge.  I was hot!!!  I trotted them up out of the woods, filling their ears with many useful scriptures - particularly those dealing with the admonition that those who do not work will not eat (if anything can get the attention of a couple of 14 year old boys, it is food!).  By the time we had crested the hill, they were contrite and headed out to the wood deck to make restitution.  My husband wasn't having any of it.  He would rather work alone than have a couple of boys who would rather play boy than be manly.  The boys were miserable.  They realized the error of their ways, but now they were not being allowed to make things right.  It was time to put my new found wisdom to use.  I went out to the wood deck and asked my husband to reconsider.  He said NO!  I went back to the house, and started to get a little irritated.  When you do something wrong, you have to be able to fix it.  I wanted the boys to be able to earn Husband's approval - they were desperate for it.  This time, instead of going outside to tell my husband all of the things he was doing wrong, I decided to pray for a quiet and gentle spirit and for the wisdom to deal appropriately with my husband - and to accept his decisions.  Once more, I set out for the wood deck.  I asked Husband if he would be willing to reconsider his decision.  This time, he shut off his chainsaw, set it down on a stump and said "what are you seeing that I am not seeing?'.  I explained my thoughts about the boys needing to be able to make it right and earn his approval, and guess what - HE LISTENED!  He allowed the boys to help him finish.  He helped them along their way toward manhood.  He extolled the virtues of working first so that you can enjoy playing later.  He showed them mercy.

God had taught me, in that one moment with eldest daughter, what his System of Government looks like.  He showed me that I can be right in my thoughts and opinions, but if I am not right in the way that I approach my husband, my words will fall on deaf ears.  He showed me that when I approach my husband with reverence and respect, I can effect change.  Finally, I understand how to be heard.

God's Perfect Plan

Thursday, March 4, 2010

God's perfect plan

On March 10th we will celebrate the birth of our second daughter, Chase Christine.  Chase would have been 12.  She was born still.  Chase's memories are bittersweet - but more sweet now than bitter.  Our eldest son, had been born two years before Chase and was in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) for a week, beginning at 8 days old.  We spent the next year terrified that he would die in his sleep, or that a prolonged seizure might render him permanently damaged.  His doctors knew nothing of a long-term prognosis - it ranged from "he will never walk, see or hear to he is permanently brain damaged to we have no idea".  We had given him to God so many times, only to take him back.  We had finally come to a place that God had given us the peace that passes understanding.  We knew that he was a gift that would change our lives.  God was using him to teach us to trust in His perfect plan.  It was a path we would have never willingly embarked upon, but one that we would be eternally grateful for.  God taught us about His sovereignty, His majesty and His mercy.  God was also preparing us for Chase.  We thought that we had been through the worst of it with eldest son.  We were anxiously anticipating Chase's arrival.  We were re-arranging rooms, getting the crib ready, laying in a supply of diapers, and mostly just enjoying the last little bit of time before we held our new bundle in our arms.  Then came the day that we went to the midwife only to find no heartbeat.  That day is still a blur to me - a blur of doctors, nurses, friends, family, but mostly a blur of Chase.  She was born at 12:15 a.m., in a hospital room with just her mama there to catch her.  My husband had made a mad dash to get a doctor, but they didn't make it back in time.  No crying, no celebration, just stillness.  Nurses took her away to clean her up and dress her.  I was taken to another room to be attended to.  It was all surreal.  When our doctor brought Chase in to us, she was beautiful. She was dressed in a little pink gown, with a pink cap on her head.  She was perfect.  I held her for hours, as did my husband and our doctor (who went to our church).  We took pictures.  We cried.  We prayed.  There wasn't enough time.  I wanted to hold her forever, but there isn't enough time to hold a dead baby.  I had to let her go.

I was so angry.  I was mad at God.  I was mad at me.  It wasn't fair!  Was God punishing me through my children?  Gently, softly, God took my hand and led me through the Valley of the Shadow of Death.  It was a long walk, it was a dark walk, but God held my hand the whole way.  He whispered to me of love, of hope, of eternity.  He gave me the gift of suffering.  He allowed my heart to be rent, so that He could be my balm.  He gave me eyes to see His Perfect Plan.  He taught me that His ways make no sense to me but they are perfect in mercy and love.  His Way has produced Hope - and Hope never disappoints.

Six years ago, my dear friend was expecting their 7th child.  She was having him at home with a midwife present.  Her husband called about 5:00 a.m. to say that Tucker had been born, but wasn't breathing.  Praying, we raced to their house.  I knew, as we pulled into their driveway, that Tucker had been whisked away to heaven.  After the midwives and EMT's had worked on Tucker for about 45 minutes, our friends chose to let Tucker go home.  By this time, our other friends had gathered at the home.  We sang praises to God and wept.  My friend, D and I had the honor of bathing Tucker and dressing him.  This very act was a balm to my soul.  I had always wondered how Chase had been treated by the nurses.  Had they treated her like a beautiful baby girl, or had they been careless?  Had they known that she was precious to us, or had they looked at her as a distasteful job to be done with quickly?  Bathing and dressing Tucker became an act of worship.  While I bathed his wee body, I thanked God for his life.  While I dressed him, I was grateful for the opportunity to serve.  While I rocked his lifeless form, I prayed for our friends.  I prayed that they too, would cling to the Father's hand as He led them through the Valley.

Chase's memories are still fresh, but they do not have the bite they once did.  God have her to us as a wonderful gift from a loving Father.  He knew that where our treasures are, there our hearts will be also.  We have treasure stored up in heaven.  Chase was God's Perfect Plan.

Happy Birthday dear daughter.

Generation Gap?

The Generation Gap?

I was watching my husband and sons work together today. They were splitting kindling, each with their own job, but working together in concert. It was a thing of beauty. It got me thinking of the "generation gap" that we have in our society. Is it a natural barrier between the generations or is it a man made phenomenon? If it is man made, is it repairable, or are we destined to remain incompatible with our children, our parents and our grandparents?

The obvious answer is, of course, that the generation gap is propagated by man, not nature. This great nation of ours would never had been built, had it not been for father, son and grandfather working side by side. The homes would never have been kept without mother, daughter and grandmother taking equal joy in seeing a job well done. Were did we go wrong? When did our kids become unable to hold a conversation with anyone not in their "peer group"? When did our grandparents start segregating themselves in an "over 50" park, to play cards, have dinner and swim with other people "over 50"? When did we parents give up mentoring our own children so we could "take time for ourselves" by shopping, going to the spa, watching football with... you've got it, people our own age?

We have lost our multi-generational vision. Society used to have a vision for a society that included children, parents and grandparents. Each generation was NEEDED to ensure the success of the next generation. Children were needed to learn skills and become productive members of the families. Parents were needed to teach those skills and direct the family toward their goals. Grandparents were needed for their wisdom and knowledge. Look at what we have lost. Children roam around directionless. They watch T.V., play video games and form online "friendships" to fill the void left by non-available parents. Parents foist their God-given responsibility to teach their children onto the State in the form of government schools, day-care and sometimes the penal system and then blame the government for not doing a good enough job. Grandparents tour the country in huge motor homes with bumper stickers that read "I'm spending my children's inheritance".

Modern society encourages the "generation gap" even as they decry it. Our government schools segregate children into age groups, rather than encouraging the older children to help teach the younger (as they did in Pioneer times). 8th graders can't "relate" to 5th graders, so how could we expect them to carry on a conversation with an adult, much less an elderly person. Families typically have 1 or 2 children, close in age, so they never learn to teach or play with little children. Our churches, which should be beacons of light in a dark world, are no better. They too, place children in age segregated Sunday schools. They have youth group, 20 somethings, young marrieds, empty-nesters and senior citizen bible studies. What about the family? Where can you find a bible study for Christians - all of them? Did Jesus separate the folks listening to His Sermon on the Mount into age appropriate groups? Or did he expect the Fathers to explain what he was talking about to their children. He may have even thought that the elders of the group could help the Fathers in their teaching of the children. Revolutionary!

There is no generation gap but that which we create. Think about what we could accomplish as families, as a society, if we re-integrated family as God created it. Fathers could teach their children. Grandfather could guide and direct their families. Children could have direction and mentoring. Families could spend their energy building the Kingdom of God instead fighting over how it should be done.

We need to let the "generation gap" rest in peace. It is time for fathers to take up their gauntlet of responsibility and take back authority for the family. They need to teach their children and en quire of their elders. Rather than a "generation gap" we need to have a "generation united that serves the Lord".

We reap what we sow

Saturday, January 30, 2010

We reap what we sow

As parents, there are so many things to get right. We try so hard. We fail so often. We are inescapably human.

I was talking to a friend the other day who was grieving the loss of her children. Her grief was palpable - it filled the room. Her children were not dead. They were just dead to her. This is a godly, wonderful, wise woman. She has homeschooled her children, is active in church, has a godly husband. They have protected their children from unwholesome influences. They have vigorously guarded their children from any perceived evil. Their children grew up, grew angry, grew apart from their parents and finally, just walked away. Of course, it wasn't as painless as it sounds. Their home, once a haven, became a battlefield. The children blamed every ill in their lives on their parents, and only saw the negative aspects of their parents character. The parents, also angry and confused by their children's betrayal, struggled to understand where they had gone wrong.

Terrifying. That is the only word I can think to describe this situation. It is terrifying to all of us parents who, like my friends, are trying to raise our children well. Does this just happen? If our godly, wise, faithful friends can't forestall this tragedy in their family, is there hope for of us? I believe there is hope. I believe it comes down to one scripture. Honor your Father and your Mother. Seem a little simplistic? Let me explain. For all of the godly characteristics in my friends, they had one terrible flaw. They did not honor their parents. Both my friend and her husband came from wonderful christian homes. Their parents were godly, christian men and women. They were, however, imperfect. These imperfections were what my friends saw. Rather than being thankful for the christian heritage they had, they concentrated on the human flaws and sinful natures of their parents - and they did this in front of their children. As their children grew they heard how "Nana" had a disease because she had bitterness in her heart. They heard how "Gramps" was in sin because he still maintained a relationship with his daughter, whose child had done drugs. They stayed away from family reunions to "protect" their children from the influence of their flawed parents. And now it's their turn. Their children, having seen their parents not honor their mothers and fathers, do not honor them. They only see the flawed, sinful human nature of their parents, not the godly heritage they have. They don't see their parents through the eyes of mercy and love, but through the tainted view of criticism and judgment. These parents have reaped what they have sewn.

These people are treasures to our family - but they are human. In their quest to live godly lives, they forgot the first and great commandment - LOVE. We may not agree with our parents in all things. We may not have christian parents. We are sure to live our lives differently than our parents. That doesn't matter, we are to honor our parents. When we do not honor our parents, our children will see us. They will follow our example. When we honor and respect our parents, we will, in fact, be providing an opportunity for our children to honor and respect us. When we look past our parents sinful nature, we will be teaching our children to look past ours. When we recognize God's command to honor our parents, our children will rise up and call us blessed.

"Honour thy father and thy mother: that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee" Exodus 20:12

These are more than just words in a book. They are words to live by. They are words which will bring life to your family. We all reap what we sow.

Angry Young Men

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

Angry Young Men

We live in a society of angry young men. You see them everywhere - slouching, defiant, rebellious. Is this just a natural "stage" of development, or are we creating these malcontents?

As our sons have gotten older, my husband and I have given these questions a lot of thought. We have witnessed many friends sons grow from being sweet, fun-loving ruddy little boys into being angry, rude, disrespectful "teenagers". We have watched godly parents lose their sons in fits of rebellion, leaving mangled remnants of families to stagger onward. Is there any hope for us? Will our sweet sons be fodder for an angry world?

As we were watching a movie one evening, I had an epiphany. It was not a great movie, in fact, we turned it off shortly after watching this one, life-changing scene. The movie was Alexander the Great, and the scene was around the time Alexander was 12 years old. His father was watching his men trying to break and "unbreakable" stallion. The stallion was truly rogue. He would wildly strike at any person within striking distance. He lounged, kicked, bit. Alexander's father issued a decree that any man who could tame the horse, could have him. None of the soldiers came forward to claim the prize. No man came forward. No man but Alexander himself. At 12 years old, he said "Father, I can tame him!". At this statement, Alexander's mother moved to stop her young son, but his father, with one look, warned his mother to remain silent. Was this the action of a controlling man? Or was it the action of a man, who knows what men in the making require? Alexander brought that horse out of the shadows (he fought for fear of the shadows) and rode him admirably. That horse became the stead, Bucephalus, that Alexander the Great rode into battle when he conquered the mighty Persian Empire.

I believe that was the moment that Alexander the Great became a man. Would he have become the man that he was, had his mother been successful in her attempt to "protect" him? I do not think that he would have. His father knew what was needed. Although it makes no sense to women, men need defining moments of manhood.
Back to angry young men. The epiphany I had while watching that movie was this - mothers need to step out of the way. When boys get to the age of "young men", we moms need to examine the way that we interact with our sons. I believe that we have angry young men because men were designed to be the "head". They were not designed to be directed by women. They were designed to lead, not to be led. Little boys require direction from their mom. Young men require direction from the men in their lives. When mothers continue to dictate everything to their young man, they either become milquetoast and weak, or angry and rebellious. You see both of those extremes every day. One marries a woman that will dominate him. She will rule their home with an iron fist, and he will let her. She will complain that her husband never "leads", but believe me, she won't "let" him, and he won't take the reins. The other get angry. He marries the woman his mother despises the most. He does it to prove a point - that HE is in control. He cuts ties with his family, either partially or completely. He then either become a control freak, or becomes what he hates - a "yes man" to his wife.

What then? I want more for my sons. I don't want them to marry women who tell them what to do. I don't want them to be angry, spiteful and unhappy. I want sons who take up their God-given mantle of priest, provider, prophet and protector of their homes. I want them to lead their families in love, humility and with what the Marines call "servant leadership".

The answer, in my humble opinion, lies with we mothers. As moms, we need to "let" our husbands lead. We need to step out of our comfort zone and let our husbands deal with our boys as men. This often is contrary to what we think is right. In practice, that has meant me "asking" my older son to do things, not "telling" him to do them. If he chooses not to, he deals with his dad. I take myself out of the equation. It means that when our son asked for a motorcycle, I swallowed my "mom" reaction and didn't say a thing. It means that when it is getting dark, and my son and his motorcycle "Vera" aren't home yet, I don't call to remind him that he needs to be home, but let him face the consequences of not being responsible.

This theory is still a work in progress. The philosophy seems to line up with scripture. It is the practical application that needs refining. This is new territory for me. I have to ask my husband frequently for guidance. It seems there is a battle on all fronts for our sons. Their own sinful natures, generations of mixed up gender roles, the modern church and many other forces all play a part in defining our young men. Men and women are both vying for superiority, not realizing God's plan for our roles is perfect. The modern church is trying to replace parents authority with "youth group" and society, in general, is apathetic in regards to fathers - they don't honor men or the irreplaceable role of fatherhood.

My challenge is this....lets examine our roles as mothers with regards to our emerging young men. Lets reverence our husbands, especially in front of our sons. Lets embrace our role as wives and mothers. Lets let our boys become men.