So many thoughts all jammed up in my head, and none of them are ready to come out. In the meantime I have added a widget to my earlier post reviewing Letters in My Head by Fleming & John which will allow you to hear the song in its entirety. If you've got a minute check it out.
I'd also like to take this opportunity to introduce you to another one of my favorite blogs mommyvsarmyof5. Christie always has funny anecdotes to share about life with her family stationed on a military base in Hawaii. She's also recently started a devotional blog that I haven't started to read yet. Take a look. She always makes me giggle. This week she writes about sending her twins to preschool for the first time. Exactly what sort of mischief could two little angels get into?
Showing posts with label confession. Show all posts
Showing posts with label confession. Show all posts
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Depression Confession; Not What I Was Expecting
Written last night:
I thought today was going to be a good day. I was so good this morning.
I took care of my skin, drank plenty of water, decided to forgo that second pot of coffee, used heat and product on my hair (which is against the principles of a certain segment of my generation of which I was a part). I did laundry before my husband was even awake. I washed the dishes I couldn't face the day before. I unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, made my grocery list, and coordinated my schedule with Michael so I could go to Walmart. I vacuumed the living room carpet in an attempt to get the dog smell out, again before my husband was awake. I even called the newspaper to find out how to replace my four-year-old son's newsprint roll. In fact I was on a roll. Oh so productive until 10:00 a.m.
It didn't last. It was over even before my trip to Walmart which happened at mid-day. And tonight I apologized to Michael for not having a more positive attitude like some wives. His response was to thank me for being exactly myself.
But this is why I have never really believed in the power of positive thinking. So often my mother would say to me, why don't you smile? Why don't you expect good things? It has been a point of contention between us for many years.
And of course to some extent she is correct. Sometimes approaching an issue with a correct (and cheerful) state of mind really does make all the difference. But not always.
Actually, believe it or not, I have started many a project with the necessary enthusiasm. Every job I ever had I thought was the best thing ever for the first month, first six months, maybe even for the first year. I really, really want to look on the bright side.
This morning I expected that today would be a well modulated day. I would work hard, but not too hard. I would set realistic goals. I would take care of my family. I wouldn't waste time on inconsequentials unless it was while taking a reasonable break. I was going with Dan Miller's idea big changes are easier to make than small ones (No More Mondays). It's true that I was stretching his point a bit, but it seemed a sound idea to me this morning.
Now, at the end of the day, you could easily look at my house and wonder if I had done a thing. I said as much to Michael. It's one of the difficult things about housekeeping. Sometimes hard work really doesn't seem to pay off.
All the same, I will choose not to use a bit of frustration as an excuse to not continue in well doing. Just because the kitchen looks terrible now doens't mean the morning's work was wasted. Just because the babysitting for the weekend didn't work out as I expected doesn't mean my children won't be well cared for. Just because my two-year-old wiped tomato sauce on my bed pillow doesn't make me love him any less. Just because a business development I was hoping for fell through doesn't mean that God doesn't have a plan to take care of us. Whatever the final outcome it will eventually turn out to have been worth the wait.
I thought today was going to be a good day. I was so good this morning.
I took care of my skin, drank plenty of water, decided to forgo that second pot of coffee, used heat and product on my hair (which is against the principles of a certain segment of my generation of which I was a part). I did laundry before my husband was even awake. I washed the dishes I couldn't face the day before. I unloaded and reloaded the dishwasher, made my grocery list, and coordinated my schedule with Michael so I could go to Walmart. I vacuumed the living room carpet in an attempt to get the dog smell out, again before my husband was awake. I even called the newspaper to find out how to replace my four-year-old son's newsprint roll. In fact I was on a roll. Oh so productive until 10:00 a.m.
It didn't last. It was over even before my trip to Walmart which happened at mid-day. And tonight I apologized to Michael for not having a more positive attitude like some wives. His response was to thank me for being exactly myself.
But this is why I have never really believed in the power of positive thinking. So often my mother would say to me, why don't you smile? Why don't you expect good things? It has been a point of contention between us for many years.
And of course to some extent she is correct. Sometimes approaching an issue with a correct (and cheerful) state of mind really does make all the difference. But not always.
Actually, believe it or not, I have started many a project with the necessary enthusiasm. Every job I ever had I thought was the best thing ever for the first month, first six months, maybe even for the first year. I really, really want to look on the bright side.
This morning I expected that today would be a well modulated day. I would work hard, but not too hard. I would set realistic goals. I would take care of my family. I wouldn't waste time on inconsequentials unless it was while taking a reasonable break. I was going with Dan Miller's idea big changes are easier to make than small ones (No More Mondays). It's true that I was stretching his point a bit, but it seemed a sound idea to me this morning.
Now, at the end of the day, you could easily look at my house and wonder if I had done a thing. I said as much to Michael. It's one of the difficult things about housekeeping. Sometimes hard work really doesn't seem to pay off.
All the same, I will choose not to use a bit of frustration as an excuse to not continue in well doing. Just because the kitchen looks terrible now doens't mean the morning's work was wasted. Just because the babysitting for the weekend didn't work out as I expected doesn't mean my children won't be well cared for. Just because my two-year-old wiped tomato sauce on my bed pillow doesn't make me love him any less. Just because a business development I was hoping for fell through doesn't mean that God doesn't have a plan to take care of us. Whatever the final outcome it will eventually turn out to have been worth the wait.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Notes and Rumination on the Complications of Faith
This is one I wrote in May. As you'll see, I had been thinking about faith for a while, longer in fact than what I indicate below. I still don't feel I have a handle on it, but I think that's part of the point, part of what it means to believe God and to trust Him with things that cannot be seen:
It would never have occurred to me to pose the question in just that way, which is exactly why I like reading Yancey, Buechner, MacDonald, Kierkegaard, Dillard and others. I don't actually wake up in the morning and ask myself that question. Usually it's all I can do to remember to say good morning, and acknowledge that half the purpose in my getting up is to say hello to Him. (I don't read the newspaper either.) I wonder how my morning might go differently if I did.
I really ought to write something long and sustained about faith. I've been thinking about it for just under a year now. I should be accumulating quotation wherever I can find them, other peoples' words that give me a hint of what it means. Last week a guy was talking about his experience during the tornado. He said he thought he had plenty of faith before it happened, and I don't remember where he went from there because I was instantly distracted. I turned to my father, who was sitting beside me, and asked, “Do people really think that, that they have plenty of faith?” I asked because I know for a fact that I have very little.
Kierkegaard, when he isn't talking about the leap of faith, not that I really know what he means by the phrase, Kierkegaard says that faith is not the same as resignation. He says that resignation has to come first, but not to mistake it for faith. Faith is always hopeful, expectant, never disappointed, exists apart from what comes. That's what I understand from a part of Fear and Trembling, anyway, a book I freely admit I may not understand.
Philip Yancey, in his wonderful book, Disappointment with God, says that faith believes God, even when nothing in your circumstances indicates His presence, even when you have no proof that He cares, even when it seems as though He has become your enemy. Faith always believes.
In another of Yancey's books he quotes Frederick Buechner. I love this one. It's long:
If you tell me Christian commitment is a kind of thing that has happened to you once and for all like some kind of spiritual plastic surgery, I say go to, go to, you're either pulling the wool over your own eyes or trying to pull it over mine. Every morning you should wake up in your bed and ask yourself: 'Can I believe it all again today?' No, better still, don't ask it till after you've read The New York Times, till after you've studied that daily record of the world's brokenness and corruption, which should always stand side by side with your Bible. Then ask yourself if you can believe in the Gospel of Jesus Christ again for that particular day. If your answer's always Yes, then you probably don't know what believing means. At least five times out of ten the answer should be No because the No is as important as the Yes, maybe more so. The No is what proves you're human in case you should ever doubt it. And then if some morning the answer happens to be really Yes, it should be a Yes that's choked with confession and tears and...great laughter. (From The Return of Ansel Gibbs, Quoted in Soul Survivor)
It would never have occurred to me to pose the question in just that way, which is exactly why I like reading Yancey, Buechner, MacDonald, Kierkegaard, Dillard and others. I don't actually wake up in the morning and ask myself that question. Usually it's all I can do to remember to say good morning, and acknowledge that half the purpose in my getting up is to say hello to Him. (I don't read the newspaper either.) I wonder how my morning might go differently if I did.
Monday, July 25, 2011
The Story of Our Week (Oh, boy, It's a Long One)
Last week did in fact turn out to be a trying week.
On Saturday I saw that the maintenance required light that had been blinking in my van for three months had suddenly changed from blinking to solid. This was not a good sign. I had been supposed to take it in for an oil change the week that I was sick, and then we had VBS every morning, and then the weekend, so I had to trust my children to ride in a vehicle that I feared, for about five seconds, might not be safe. Michael had commented that the engine sounded different and that it seemed to lose power as he was driving only days before.
Took the van in to the shop. I would have stayed and waited for the oil change if I didn't think there was a good chance something else would have to be repaired. Got a ride home from the shop with one of their drivers and practiced my question-asking skills all three miles. It wasn't difficult as he was the kind of man who takes a question and runs with it. Nice guy.
They were able to fix it for us that day, but it cost about two-hundred dollars more than I had hoped to pay for a repair.
That evening around dinner time we failed to notice that our yellow labrador was needing to go out. Parker, my four year old, was the first to notice her peeing on the rug in the back room, which is also our laundry room. She had never had an accident in the house before. Luckily our sometimes daytime house guest was there, and he was able to tell us what to do to clean it up. After we mopped up as much as we could with towels, he poured baking soda all over the wet area to wick up the moisture. This was scraped and swept, and in the morning the residue was dry enough to clean up with the vacuum cleaner.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday occurred without either positive development business-wise, or negative incident. A good friend brought us dinner. Michael and I got a couple of hours out of the house to attend a short seminar. The children and I met my sister at CHOM and at the public library.
Then Friday. Ah, Friday.
Because I had felt pretty crummy all week, and our laundry room was being used for test-taking by our guest, the laundry had been piling up. In fact I hadn't even folded towels from the weekend before. As Michael left the house for play testing with Jim and errands, I finally put on a load of clothes and got the children ready to go outside.
We go outside. I see an unaccountable puddle of water streaming from the basement. It looks like it has soap in it. I walk into the basement to investigate, noticing that a lot of the moisture seems to be originating around the water heater, but there's nothing wrong with the water heater. Next thing I know, a rush of water falls from the raw ceiling above the heater. I run upstairs to see what's going on, only to find a stream of water growing out from underneath the washing machine, the wooden floor boards becoming warped around the edges. Since the load of laundry in the machine is in its final cycle, I have no choice but to let it run, even as I have a pretty good idea of what is going on below.
Michael's gone. The children are outside alone. A friend of mine is coming in a couple of hours to cut my hair.
I could drag this out and give you all the details, but the main thing that happened in the hours before my friend got there and Michael made it home from errands was that a $600 car repair that didn't bother me at the beginning of the week suddenly became a frighteningly large expense, as I contemplated the possibility of an even more expensive plumbing charge. For a moment I envisioned the floor collapsing and the siding falling off the back of the house. For a moment I couldn't help but think about the disparity between our income and expenses for the month. We're fine, but it really was a rough couple of hours alone in the house with two tired, and I do mean tired, children.
On Saturday I washed all of our dishes by hand (with help) because I was afraid that running the dishwasher would overload the plumbing. On Saturday Isaac's diaper leaked into my bed, wetting our one and only mattress pad, making the laundry situation all the more urgent. On Saturday Michael worked on the plumbing, and worked on the plumbing, and worked on the plumbing, with the benefit of some good advice from our sometimes house guest, but the problem wasn't immediately fixed. It wasn't a surprise that a plumbing issue would require a lot of trial and error, but it was still disheartening.
More help, this time from my Dad, after which the problem was solved without our having to call in the professionals, and without my having to leave the house to do laundry or grocery shopping or anything.
This was the week that I was dreading, and it turned out to contain things I never would have imagined in advance. I was glad on Saturday that it seemed to be over.
On Friday for a time I wondered why God wasn't providing for us in a more satisfying way. I wondered why the business possibilities that had come up at the beginning of the month hadn't developed into much of anything. I wondered why I had to finally get upset about the cost of the car when I had handled it so well earlier in the week.
On Saturday I remembered that we're supposed to thank God for trials. And I figured something out about the way I was supposed to pray while we wait for our financial situation to change. Maybe this is what I ought to be saying to Him (God): I know that You could provide us with an adequate stream of income any time You want. For all I know You could be planning to solve all of our employment problems tomorrow. Until You do, please just stretch what money we have and in the meantime teach me the lesson that You can be trusted with all our desires and needs.
It's a lesson I've been working on, and I have plenty of ideas about what faith and trust mean in terms of our relationship with God, that lovely old loaded term I'm also trying to cope with.
And then I started to recognize some of the blessings of the week.
My mom came to my house unexpectedly on Sunday night and cut my children's hair after which they got to run around in the sprinklers for half an hour.
A friend who will remain anonymous because I don't know whether he would want me to name him or not brought us dinner one night because I had been sick and because he wanted to do something nice for us. That dinner lasted us for two meals.
The children got a chance to use the computer games at the library because my sister was there with us, which meant that each child had their own adult giving them full attention.
Our sometimes daytime house guest was here when the dog peed on the carpet and was available with good and practical advice when the plumbing went all haywire.
The friend who cut my hair was here when I needed someone to distract me from what could have become a full on panic followed by depression as I described above.
My husband was able to solve the plumbing and problem and my parents were available to help.
We ended Saturday evening in the presence of someone Michael and I both love, who fed us yet again, and who brought the entertainment, leaving fresh vegetables and lemonade, among other things, behind.
In fact it turned out to be a rather good week.
On Saturday I saw that the maintenance required light that had been blinking in my van for three months had suddenly changed from blinking to solid. This was not a good sign. I had been supposed to take it in for an oil change the week that I was sick, and then we had VBS every morning, and then the weekend, so I had to trust my children to ride in a vehicle that I feared, for about five seconds, might not be safe. Michael had commented that the engine sounded different and that it seemed to lose power as he was driving only days before.
Took the van in to the shop. I would have stayed and waited for the oil change if I didn't think there was a good chance something else would have to be repaired. Got a ride home from the shop with one of their drivers and practiced my question-asking skills all three miles. It wasn't difficult as he was the kind of man who takes a question and runs with it. Nice guy.
They were able to fix it for us that day, but it cost about two-hundred dollars more than I had hoped to pay for a repair.
That evening around dinner time we failed to notice that our yellow labrador was needing to go out. Parker, my four year old, was the first to notice her peeing on the rug in the back room, which is also our laundry room. She had never had an accident in the house before. Luckily our sometimes daytime house guest was there, and he was able to tell us what to do to clean it up. After we mopped up as much as we could with towels, he poured baking soda all over the wet area to wick up the moisture. This was scraped and swept, and in the morning the residue was dry enough to clean up with the vacuum cleaner.
Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday occurred without either positive development business-wise, or negative incident. A good friend brought us dinner. Michael and I got a couple of hours out of the house to attend a short seminar. The children and I met my sister at CHOM and at the public library.
Then Friday. Ah, Friday.
Because I had felt pretty crummy all week, and our laundry room was being used for test-taking by our guest, the laundry had been piling up. In fact I hadn't even folded towels from the weekend before. As Michael left the house for play testing with Jim and errands, I finally put on a load of clothes and got the children ready to go outside.
We go outside. I see an unaccountable puddle of water streaming from the basement. It looks like it has soap in it. I walk into the basement to investigate, noticing that a lot of the moisture seems to be originating around the water heater, but there's nothing wrong with the water heater. Next thing I know, a rush of water falls from the raw ceiling above the heater. I run upstairs to see what's going on, only to find a stream of water growing out from underneath the washing machine, the wooden floor boards becoming warped around the edges. Since the load of laundry in the machine is in its final cycle, I have no choice but to let it run, even as I have a pretty good idea of what is going on below.
Michael's gone. The children are outside alone. A friend of mine is coming in a couple of hours to cut my hair.
I could drag this out and give you all the details, but the main thing that happened in the hours before my friend got there and Michael made it home from errands was that a $600 car repair that didn't bother me at the beginning of the week suddenly became a frighteningly large expense, as I contemplated the possibility of an even more expensive plumbing charge. For a moment I envisioned the floor collapsing and the siding falling off the back of the house. For a moment I couldn't help but think about the disparity between our income and expenses for the month. We're fine, but it really was a rough couple of hours alone in the house with two tired, and I do mean tired, children.
On Saturday I washed all of our dishes by hand (with help) because I was afraid that running the dishwasher would overload the plumbing. On Saturday Isaac's diaper leaked into my bed, wetting our one and only mattress pad, making the laundry situation all the more urgent. On Saturday Michael worked on the plumbing, and worked on the plumbing, and worked on the plumbing, with the benefit of some good advice from our sometimes house guest, but the problem wasn't immediately fixed. It wasn't a surprise that a plumbing issue would require a lot of trial and error, but it was still disheartening.
More help, this time from my Dad, after which the problem was solved without our having to call in the professionals, and without my having to leave the house to do laundry or grocery shopping or anything.
This was the week that I was dreading, and it turned out to contain things I never would have imagined in advance. I was glad on Saturday that it seemed to be over.
On Friday for a time I wondered why God wasn't providing for us in a more satisfying way. I wondered why the business possibilities that had come up at the beginning of the month hadn't developed into much of anything. I wondered why I had to finally get upset about the cost of the car when I had handled it so well earlier in the week.
On Saturday I remembered that we're supposed to thank God for trials. And I figured something out about the way I was supposed to pray while we wait for our financial situation to change. Maybe this is what I ought to be saying to Him (God): I know that You could provide us with an adequate stream of income any time You want. For all I know You could be planning to solve all of our employment problems tomorrow. Until You do, please just stretch what money we have and in the meantime teach me the lesson that You can be trusted with all our desires and needs.
It's a lesson I've been working on, and I have plenty of ideas about what faith and trust mean in terms of our relationship with God, that lovely old loaded term I'm also trying to cope with.
And then I started to recognize some of the blessings of the week.
My mom came to my house unexpectedly on Sunday night and cut my children's hair after which they got to run around in the sprinklers for half an hour.
A friend who will remain anonymous because I don't know whether he would want me to name him or not brought us dinner one night because I had been sick and because he wanted to do something nice for us. That dinner lasted us for two meals.
The children got a chance to use the computer games at the library because my sister was there with us, which meant that each child had their own adult giving them full attention.
Our sometimes daytime house guest was here when the dog peed on the carpet and was available with good and practical advice when the plumbing went all haywire.
The friend who cut my hair was here when I needed someone to distract me from what could have become a full on panic followed by depression as I described above.
My husband was able to solve the plumbing and problem and my parents were available to help.
We ended Saturday evening in the presence of someone Michael and I both love, who fed us yet again, and who brought the entertainment, leaving fresh vegetables and lemonade, among other things, behind.
In fact it turned out to be a rather good week.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
Computers, video streaming, etc.
We bought a new laptop computer, and Michael and I have traded so that I am now using the new Dell laptop, while he has taken over the less new Acer. This seems to work out well for the both of us as he needs the wider screen for web design, and I need the better speakers for what I do, watch a lot of tv. Actually I have less time for tv lately, which is a good thing.
I like the smaller screen, smaller keypad, and lighter weight of the Dell, which makes it ever the slightly more portable. I might take this one with me to the coffee shop, if I ever decided it was worthwhile to write there. I like that it doesn't have any crud under the buttons yet. And I like that it's cover is blue. It helps too, since we now need an additional laptop, we already own this one.
Michael bought the Dell laptop almost by mistake. We were trying to decide whether or not to send it back, when the window of opportunity for that possibility closed. We thought about selling it on ebay. Now we have a reason to keep it.
[Parker is momentarily standing in the hallway at 9:15 p.m. trying to convince Michael that he couldn't possibly sleep in his own room tonight. It would be cuter if he hadn't already been in bed for over an hour and a half.]
As far as the television is concerned, I am practically run over now that the networks have picked up their Fall seasons. The ability to time-shift viewing patterns is wonderful. The way the interesting television shows begin to pile up in my Hulu queue is less wonderful. Because I'm one of those people who actually like television. Not everyone who watches it does, you know. Not only do I like it, but I am also usually (if not always) an active viewer of television. I like movies too. My mom points out that I don't have to watch them, but don't I? Is it enough to pretend that I won't pick up any new ones? Who am I kidding?
I like the smaller screen, smaller keypad, and lighter weight of the Dell, which makes it ever the slightly more portable. I might take this one with me to the coffee shop, if I ever decided it was worthwhile to write there. I like that it doesn't have any crud under the buttons yet. And I like that it's cover is blue. It helps too, since we now need an additional laptop, we already own this one.
Michael bought the Dell laptop almost by mistake. We were trying to decide whether or not to send it back, when the window of opportunity for that possibility closed. We thought about selling it on ebay. Now we have a reason to keep it.
[Parker is momentarily standing in the hallway at 9:15 p.m. trying to convince Michael that he couldn't possibly sleep in his own room tonight. It would be cuter if he hadn't already been in bed for over an hour and a half.]
As far as the television is concerned, I am practically run over now that the networks have picked up their Fall seasons. The ability to time-shift viewing patterns is wonderful. The way the interesting television shows begin to pile up in my Hulu queue is less wonderful. Because I'm one of those people who actually like television. Not everyone who watches it does, you know. Not only do I like it, but I am also usually (if not always) an active viewer of television. I like movies too. My mom points out that I don't have to watch them, but don't I? Is it enough to pretend that I won't pick up any new ones? Who am I kidding?
Wednesday, December 31, 2008
Timing-Provision/God has been Very Good
Isaac, gentleman that he is, waited to arrive until after Michael's immediate obligations as special events deacon at Grace had been fulfilled. He chose to come before my Dad had to commit to whether or not he would travel to New Orleans to lecture for the Marine Corp. He waited until after Michael and I had the opportunity to go to lunch alone together just that afternoon.
I have often been disappointed in thinking about the neat ways God hasn't provided for us and for our needs. He's never given me an automobile out of the blue (something I have always dreamed would happen). He's never given us a specific amount of money immediately before or after we have needed.
But here's what He has done.
We needed a baby bed and mattress for Isaac to sleep on. John and Linda are loaning us a bed. Cori has provided a mattress. We needed a place for Isaac to sleep until he's old enough to make it through the night without nursing, when he'll join Parker. Shelly bought us a bassinet for a dollar at a yard sale. We needed a cover for the bassinet. Elizabeth had that would fit.
The automatic breast pump I need to establish nursing has been provided without cost beyond it's use of electricity. Heather and Anna Grace were available without question to spend parts of the night with Parker the night Isaac arrived.
Isaac has diapers because Michael's office gave us a diaper shower the Friday before Isaac was born. Linda watched Parker while I got my driver's license renewed only the weekend before.
Anna gave me clothes to wear the last couple of months of my pregnancy. Isaac has clothes to wear because Laura and Tina and Elizabeth and others gave us their old ones. Isaac has his own new blankets thanks to Pam and others. My parents live close by so there was never any question of where Parker would stay while Michael and I were at the hospital with Isaac.
Our kitchen range was dying, and so Michael's parents helped us to purchase a new one over Thanksgiving. My parents have bought us groceries since Isaac has been here, as well as various household needs. My mom often buys me clothes when I need them and she's available to help me with the boys until I adjust to nursing with a two year-0ld in the house. Daniel and Shannon were able to be here the day Isaac arrived.
Our mortgage is low, which as been a tremendous help in coping with the rising costs of living. We get the dependant tax exemption for 2008 even though we had no expectation. God didn't exactly GIVE us a car, but in reality He did, because we were able to buy a mini-van this year from someone we know and trust, who provided a complete maintenance history and even had the oil changed and the tires rotated after the sales agreement had been made. Best of all, two car seats fit in it easily, which they never could have in our other car.
We have our own washer and dryer this time around to cope with the tremendous amounts of laundry a new baby generates.
Michael has been able to take time off work to be with me and Parker and Isaac with very little difficulty, and he's off again tomorrow for New Years.
How has God not provided for us?
He is good anyway, by the way, apart from anything He may or may not do for us. I have to tempt disaster and thank Him because this is His due.
I have often been disappointed in thinking about the neat ways God hasn't provided for us and for our needs. He's never given me an automobile out of the blue (something I have always dreamed would happen). He's never given us a specific amount of money immediately before or after we have needed.
But here's what He has done.
We needed a baby bed and mattress for Isaac to sleep on. John and Linda are loaning us a bed. Cori has provided a mattress. We needed a place for Isaac to sleep until he's old enough to make it through the night without nursing, when he'll join Parker. Shelly bought us a bassinet for a dollar at a yard sale. We needed a cover for the bassinet. Elizabeth had that would fit.
The automatic breast pump I need to establish nursing has been provided without cost beyond it's use of electricity. Heather and Anna Grace were available without question to spend parts of the night with Parker the night Isaac arrived.
Isaac has diapers because Michael's office gave us a diaper shower the Friday before Isaac was born. Linda watched Parker while I got my driver's license renewed only the weekend before.
Anna gave me clothes to wear the last couple of months of my pregnancy. Isaac has clothes to wear because Laura and Tina and Elizabeth and others gave us their old ones. Isaac has his own new blankets thanks to Pam and others. My parents live close by so there was never any question of where Parker would stay while Michael and I were at the hospital with Isaac.
Our kitchen range was dying, and so Michael's parents helped us to purchase a new one over Thanksgiving. My parents have bought us groceries since Isaac has been here, as well as various household needs. My mom often buys me clothes when I need them and she's available to help me with the boys until I adjust to nursing with a two year-0ld in the house. Daniel and Shannon were able to be here the day Isaac arrived.
Our mortgage is low, which as been a tremendous help in coping with the rising costs of living. We get the dependant tax exemption for 2008 even though we had no expectation. God didn't exactly GIVE us a car, but in reality He did, because we were able to buy a mini-van this year from someone we know and trust, who provided a complete maintenance history and even had the oil changed and the tires rotated after the sales agreement had been made. Best of all, two car seats fit in it easily, which they never could have in our other car.
We have our own washer and dryer this time around to cope with the tremendous amounts of laundry a new baby generates.
Michael has been able to take time off work to be with me and Parker and Isaac with very little difficulty, and he's off again tomorrow for New Years.
How has God not provided for us?
He is good anyway, by the way, apart from anything He may or may not do for us. I have to tempt disaster and thank Him because this is His due.
Tuesday, March 4, 2008
Songs, Reminders, Things That Cannot be Communicated in Any Other Way
Here is a word picture (it isn't really a "picture," but what is it?) from one of my favorite songs ("Time Will Be the Tell") by 100 Portraits that gives me pause.
You can play the Cinic/
Oh, the insults that you could hurl/
Be the King of your opinion/
In your tiny, tiny world/
The church could be your victim/
Cross your arms and criticize/
I hope you will remember/
She is another man's wife/
She is another man's wife.
I've listened to this song today as I've thought about the fact that I once cared passionately about the health of the church (the real church, not simply the institution), the unity of the body, the purity that Christ attributes to its members. I don't care so much for those things as I once did, and consider that the root of this uncaring must be the bitterness that sets in as a result of disillusionment and injury. We are such delicate creatures. In recognizing and accepting our wounding, still we must remember that the church is the Bride of Christ--she is another man's wife.
This is not a concept I fully understand. I once lost respect for a man because of the actions of his wife. I have been critical at times when men have attributed spritual superiority to their wives against my own (admittedly external) assessment. How fortunate it is that we are not called upon to make these judgments, especially considerig I am so judgmental a creature.
You can play the Cinic/
Oh, the insults that you could hurl/
Be the King of your opinion/
In your tiny, tiny world/
The church could be your victim/
Cross your arms and criticize/
I hope you will remember/
She is another man's wife/
She is another man's wife.
I've listened to this song today as I've thought about the fact that I once cared passionately about the health of the church (the real church, not simply the institution), the unity of the body, the purity that Christ attributes to its members. I don't care so much for those things as I once did, and consider that the root of this uncaring must be the bitterness that sets in as a result of disillusionment and injury. We are such delicate creatures. In recognizing and accepting our wounding, still we must remember that the church is the Bride of Christ--she is another man's wife.
This is not a concept I fully understand. I once lost respect for a man because of the actions of his wife. I have been critical at times when men have attributed spritual superiority to their wives against my own (admittedly external) assessment. How fortunate it is that we are not called upon to make these judgments, especially considerig I am so judgmental a creature.
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
The Giving and Withholding of Grace, Part II
The first part of this story left me in tears on the pavement outside of Wal-mart, and angry because of the unprofessional behavior that had brought me to this point. I wanted to call the insurance adjuster and tell him how mad I was. I wanted him to know that his choice to call me back so late in the day had left a family stranded for the weekend.
This was my thought process:
I shouldn't call this guy while I'm angry. If I don't call this guy he won't know what an inconsiderate mistake he's made; he won't know that he shouldn't have called me only fifteen minutes before leaving the office. He might not realize what he's done to me, and surely will I seethe in frustration for the next three days if I don't get this out of my system now. I might lose steam and not be able to complain if I don't do this right now.
So I called and left a message on his voice mail. I stood up for myself. I told him, in the message, that he had handled this situation very poorly and that he had left us in a very sorry position.
When he called me back Monday morning he was nothing but professional. I don't even know if he heard the message I had left him that Friday afternoon.
We were not, in fact, left without a car. One was provided for us on Saturday even though the insurance company didn't move on it until the following Monday evening/ Tuesday. I spent a lot of time worrying that the insurance company never would step in and that their client would be out the money she was willing to spend to see us in a rental car. I thought about all the reasons and excuses that might explain why the insurance adjuster didn't call me in a timely manner.
The entire encounter made me think about the grace that we can potentially extend to those around us. Perhaps the insurance adjuster needed some harsh truth spoken in his life. On the other hand, perhaps I should have extended grace to him by choosing to speak gently instead of in anger. There's really no way for me to know. I feel this tension between defending and/or protecting myself and Jesus's command to love your neighbor as yourself. It might do me good to go back and review what Dr. Allender has to say about love in response to real harm.
God was gracious to us in the midst of this accident, though it takes a while to remove myself enough to acknowledge it. So many different things could have happened. The individual who hit me could have been hostile, or too young to care about what happened to us. It could, theoretically, have been another hit and run, which is something I have experienced before. We could have been hurt, or the insurance company could have tried to force us to do something with our car that we wouldn't have wanted to do. None of these things were true. Parker was little more than nudged in his car seat, and the other driver cared very much about our wellbeing. My five year driving record is no longer pristine, but how much does that really matter?
Wouldn't it be nice if we knew how to be as gracious as Jesus is, and were close enough to him to know when to modify that grace with hardness?
Our minor collision gave me something else to write and think about.
This was my thought process:
I shouldn't call this guy while I'm angry. If I don't call this guy he won't know what an inconsiderate mistake he's made; he won't know that he shouldn't have called me only fifteen minutes before leaving the office. He might not realize what he's done to me, and surely will I seethe in frustration for the next three days if I don't get this out of my system now. I might lose steam and not be able to complain if I don't do this right now.
So I called and left a message on his voice mail. I stood up for myself. I told him, in the message, that he had handled this situation very poorly and that he had left us in a very sorry position.
When he called me back Monday morning he was nothing but professional. I don't even know if he heard the message I had left him that Friday afternoon.
We were not, in fact, left without a car. One was provided for us on Saturday even though the insurance company didn't move on it until the following Monday evening/ Tuesday. I spent a lot of time worrying that the insurance company never would step in and that their client would be out the money she was willing to spend to see us in a rental car. I thought about all the reasons and excuses that might explain why the insurance adjuster didn't call me in a timely manner.
The entire encounter made me think about the grace that we can potentially extend to those around us. Perhaps the insurance adjuster needed some harsh truth spoken in his life. On the other hand, perhaps I should have extended grace to him by choosing to speak gently instead of in anger. There's really no way for me to know. I feel this tension between defending and/or protecting myself and Jesus's command to love your neighbor as yourself. It might do me good to go back and review what Dr. Allender has to say about love in response to real harm.
God was gracious to us in the midst of this accident, though it takes a while to remove myself enough to acknowledge it. So many different things could have happened. The individual who hit me could have been hostile, or too young to care about what happened to us. It could, theoretically, have been another hit and run, which is something I have experienced before. We could have been hurt, or the insurance company could have tried to force us to do something with our car that we wouldn't have wanted to do. None of these things were true. Parker was little more than nudged in his car seat, and the other driver cared very much about our wellbeing. My five year driving record is no longer pristine, but how much does that really matter?
Wouldn't it be nice if we knew how to be as gracious as Jesus is, and were close enough to him to know when to modify that grace with hardness?
Our minor collision gave me something else to write and think about.
Monday, February 25, 2008
The Giving and Withholding of Grace, Part I
The Insurance Adjust let me down in a big way on the Friday before my birthday.
Parker and I had been involved in a minor traffic accident early that Friday morning, and our car had been towed away to a Collision Center to undergo minor (and I mean very minor) repairs. The car had to be towed only because it's tire (or tyre, in some of the literature I've been reading lately) had been blown out, and because towing is what the insurance company recommended. The accident happened around 8:15 a.m.
My friend explained to the insurance company that this was our only vehicle, so we were told that we'd be contacted about a rental sometime that afternoon.
Parker had been suffering from a cold that wasn't getting any better, so I finally called the pediatrician's office that morning to get him a prescription for medicine. I turned the ringer back on my phone because I was concerned that I might miss that all important call from the insurance company. No call from the insurance company came.
My mother brought me her car so that I could get Parker's medicine. I took my cell phone with me so that I wouldn't miss that call. I stood in line at Wal-mart to do the preliminary work since I had not picked up a prescription there before.
As I moved toward the front of the store, my cell phone alerted me that I had missed a call. It was the insurance adjuster. "Please call me back. I'll be leaving the office in about fifteen minutes, so if I don't speak with you by then, I'll talk to you early Monday morning," his message told me. The message had been left twenty minutes ago.
I rushed outside to get a signal. The entrance attendant was standing near the doors making sure that the designated entrances and exits were observed. This never happens at Wal-mart, and it slowed me down.
I crouched outside near the soda machines to return the insurance adjuster's call. "Please if you get this message call me back! I've been standing in line waiting to get medicine for my sick child and I really need a car to drive this weekend. Please call me back."
But I was so upset. Why did this guy wait until the end of the day to call me? Why couldn't I talk with someone who could tell me what to do? How were we going to get around all weekend without a vehicle? Happy Birthday to me.
I'll give you the rest of the story, including the actual point of the story during normal waking hours in the Fox household.
Parker and I had been involved in a minor traffic accident early that Friday morning, and our car had been towed away to a Collision Center to undergo minor (and I mean very minor) repairs. The car had to be towed only because it's tire (or tyre, in some of the literature I've been reading lately) had been blown out, and because towing is what the insurance company recommended. The accident happened around 8:15 a.m.
My friend explained to the insurance company that this was our only vehicle, so we were told that we'd be contacted about a rental sometime that afternoon.
Parker had been suffering from a cold that wasn't getting any better, so I finally called the pediatrician's office that morning to get him a prescription for medicine. I turned the ringer back on my phone because I was concerned that I might miss that all important call from the insurance company. No call from the insurance company came.
My mother brought me her car so that I could get Parker's medicine. I took my cell phone with me so that I wouldn't miss that call. I stood in line at Wal-mart to do the preliminary work since I had not picked up a prescription there before.
As I moved toward the front of the store, my cell phone alerted me that I had missed a call. It was the insurance adjuster. "Please call me back. I'll be leaving the office in about fifteen minutes, so if I don't speak with you by then, I'll talk to you early Monday morning," his message told me. The message had been left twenty minutes ago.
I rushed outside to get a signal. The entrance attendant was standing near the doors making sure that the designated entrances and exits were observed. This never happens at Wal-mart, and it slowed me down.
I crouched outside near the soda machines to return the insurance adjuster's call. "Please if you get this message call me back! I've been standing in line waiting to get medicine for my sick child and I really need a car to drive this weekend. Please call me back."
But I was so upset. Why did this guy wait until the end of the day to call me? Why couldn't I talk with someone who could tell me what to do? How were we going to get around all weekend without a vehicle? Happy Birthday to me.
I'll give you the rest of the story, including the actual point of the story during normal waking hours in the Fox household.
Sunday, February 24, 2008
Relationships: I Become More and More Convinced That They Are the Most Important Things
This morning in church I realized that, if I want to have relationships, I shall have to pursue them. I also noted that relationships are important to me. I want to become more aware of the ways in which people are brought into my life. I want to be more purposeful in the way that I pursue them. This point was carried home within the context of the Bible study I attended just this evening.
I figure that the moment I acknowledge an individual's presence in my life, I should see this as a sign that the Holy Spirit desires to act through me in some way. After all, my acquaintances fall under my sphere of influence as Stephen Covey would describe things.
I had a gift to take to a young woman in my church who recently had had a baby. As I contemplated my desire to visit her in the hospital, I became aware that I was acquainted with a nurse who worked delivery, and that she herself would be expecting her own baby at any time. This nurse had been a classmate of mine in high school. She and I were never close, in fact we were not even friends, but my feeling toward her had changed since Parker came into my world. Parker has changed all sorts of things, which is part and parcel of his status as a gift from God. I had a gift to give to her as well.
I wrote this nurse a card in which I told her that if she ever needed to talk she could phone me. I told her that complaints were welcome, as I know from my own experience that sometimes you simply need someone to talk to when times are hard. Sometimes you need someone to whine to other than your husband. I was fortunate in that I had such a friend, after Parker was born, and I have long desired to continue to be such a friend to others who are in need. Unfortunately you only rarely come across anyone who will take you up on such an offer. I myself am guilty of ignoring the offers of those who have reached out to me. Perhaps I should contact these saints and beg of them their forgiveness.
Perhaps I shall as I become more and more convicted of these things. But it is late.
I figure that the moment I acknowledge an individual's presence in my life, I should see this as a sign that the Holy Spirit desires to act through me in some way. After all, my acquaintances fall under my sphere of influence as Stephen Covey would describe things.
I had a gift to take to a young woman in my church who recently had had a baby. As I contemplated my desire to visit her in the hospital, I became aware that I was acquainted with a nurse who worked delivery, and that she herself would be expecting her own baby at any time. This nurse had been a classmate of mine in high school. She and I were never close, in fact we were not even friends, but my feeling toward her had changed since Parker came into my world. Parker has changed all sorts of things, which is part and parcel of his status as a gift from God. I had a gift to give to her as well.
I wrote this nurse a card in which I told her that if she ever needed to talk she could phone me. I told her that complaints were welcome, as I know from my own experience that sometimes you simply need someone to talk to when times are hard. Sometimes you need someone to whine to other than your husband. I was fortunate in that I had such a friend, after Parker was born, and I have long desired to continue to be such a friend to others who are in need. Unfortunately you only rarely come across anyone who will take you up on such an offer. I myself am guilty of ignoring the offers of those who have reached out to me. Perhaps I should contact these saints and beg of them their forgiveness.
Perhaps I shall as I become more and more convicted of these things. But it is late.
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Confession
Sunday night I walked into my friend's home for the very first time, and I was able to express my enthusiasm loudly, and without reserve. I don't usually feel so free, nor so immediately at home. I came home from the bible study that night full of excitement, but also with an ugly realization.
I see that I am very self-centered right now. There are modes of expression open to me at this time that rarely have been open before, and so I find myself talking a lot. Some of it is really worth-while, some of it is vainglorious, and some of it has to do with the fact that I am feeling connected at an unprecedented level.
These are good things over all, but I make this confession because I realize that it will take some time for me to balance listening and questioning with stating.
I worried about this, casually, for about half-an-hour, and then I realized that if I confess it, it will be that much easier to achieve an appropriate level of perspective.
On a related subject: I have not enjoyed a group of women so much since Becky Suarez invited me into her Bible Study when I was a Freshman in college.
I see that I am very self-centered right now. There are modes of expression open to me at this time that rarely have been open before, and so I find myself talking a lot. Some of it is really worth-while, some of it is vainglorious, and some of it has to do with the fact that I am feeling connected at an unprecedented level.
These are good things over all, but I make this confession because I realize that it will take some time for me to balance listening and questioning with stating.
I worried about this, casually, for about half-an-hour, and then I realized that if I confess it, it will be that much easier to achieve an appropriate level of perspective.
On a related subject: I have not enjoyed a group of women so much since Becky Suarez invited me into her Bible Study when I was a Freshman in college.
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