Speaking of Heartbreak…and Our Only Hope

 Last week I wrote about being heartbroken over good men losing jobs over situations seemingly out of their control. I remain heavy hearted about that to be sure, but yesterday brought on a different sort of heartbreak. I didn’t cry or lose sleep over godly men having to make tough sacrifices last week, but I did shed tears over the loss of 50 lives in Florida yesterday, and I woke up this morning having tossed and dreamt about it and related issues all night long. How does life go on here when lives have been shattered not far away? And more lives in one shooting than ever before in history?

Sunday morning was a typical one. Robert and I are up early, and while he gets ready, I make a big breakfast before he and Kayla leave for early service preparation. (He leads and prays with the troops and Kayla fills communion cups) As they were about to walk out the door, I checked Facebook on my phone and saw a couple of the first reports of the shooting in Orlando. I mentioned to Robert that 20 had been killed. We turned on the news for a few minutes while waiting for our almost-16-year-old to make her way downstairs. It was breaking news, and it was bad. 2am. A nightclub. 20 dead and 40 injured. Negotiations. SWAT team.

It felt like I was watching an episode of Blue Bloods (our current indulgence), but these were not actors. They were the real life Jamie, Danny, and Frank Reagans. Local law enforcement having to deal with horror and tragedy, only this one didn’t get nicely tied up in the end.

Cooper and I went to church in time for the first service and enjoyed the guest preacher, as our preacher still doesn’t have his voice back 100%. We came home with Kayla, had lunch together, and I waited for Robert to arrive home after service number two. As soon as he got home, we left for the first of two back-to-back graduation parties. It was at the first party that I learned the new death toll.

“Did you guys hear about the shooting?” my friend Betsy asked.
“Yes, so terrible. 20 dead and so many more injured,” I replied.
Our mutual friend Stacey corrected me, “It’s actually 50 now. 50 people dead and almost that many injured.”

Heartbreak. In the midst of the joyful milestone celebration of a graduate you’ve known his whole life. How do you reconcile these things?

On the way to party number two, I told Robert the news, “Honey, the shooter killed 50 people, not just 20.”

Is 50 a shocking number? I wasn’t even putting it together that it’s almost double the amount of lives lost at the Sandy Hook Elementary school in Connecticut. As if the numbers matter. Even one life is too many, but 26? 32 in Virginia? And now 50?

It wasn’t until we got home after 5pm that the news stated it loud and clear:

Deadliest mass shooting in U.S. History.

I had to drive Kayla to meet Cooper for youth group at a sister church soon after we got home. On the way, I explained it to her: “Deadliest mass shooting in U.S. history, honey.”

In the ten minutes we had together, we talked about our relief that it was not someone claiming to be a Christian (this time), and about how we are called to love our neighbor regardless of religious and worldview and lifestyle differences. That these were human beings. They were creations of a good and loving Father in our view, and therefore their lives are precious.

But we also talked about shootings in general and the disturbing status quo nature of other widespread violence and hatred and persecution and intolerance – of which Christians are increasingly a target in the U.S. but even more so globally.

A text I received from my brother yesterday in the midst of all of this illustrates a trend:

“The elders of our church asked our pastor to resign this week due to his change in belief regarding marriage being between one man and one woman.”

I applaud those elders for their devotion to God’s Word, but there are few others joining in that applause. The cultural pressure for Christians to abandon God’s Word and reject His will for marriage and sexuality is great, and I worry about the increasing pressure on my kids as they become adults. Holding to faith can be difficult enough.  Holding to what many consider to be a “hateful” stance feels almost impossible for anyone with a heart or ounce of compassion.

So, Kayla and I talked about love. Loving people without conditions. Having appropriate expectations of those who don’t believe God the same way we do. Being a good neighbor to all who are created in His image no matter what.

And we also talked about our only Hope.

If you can get shot in your elementary school, or your local movie theater, or your dorm, or shopping mall, you can also get killed in your worship service, at your church picnic, or on your mission trip. It could happen at random, or it could be due to your faith and belief. Really, it can happen anywhere to anyone. This is the world we live in, and it could get much, much worse. And I don’t believe in a rapture out of tribulation. And Jesus warns us of times like these. And no, I’m not forecasting the end of all things here, but still…is there any way to be prepared? What do I teach my kids?

Just this, I think:

“If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you. If you were of the world, the world would love you as its own; but because you are not of the world, but I chose you out of the world, therefore the world hates you. Remember the word that I said to you: ‘A servant is not greater than his master,’ If they persecuted me, they will also persecute you. If they kept my word, they will also keep yours. But all these things they will do to you on account of my name, because they do not know him who sent me.” John 15: 18-25

Trial and persecution will come.
Suffering is a given.
You might be hated and accused of hatred.
Know that Christ can be trusted.
Walk with Him. Learn Him. Cling to Him.
Cast your fears on Him.
Surrender to His good and perfect will.
Know He is sovereign over all.

Death is not final for those who trust in Christ.
We value our life, but we are also ready to lay it down.

He is our healing in heartbreak.
He is our hope in death.

These are the things I want my kids to know, to hold fast to. (And realities I forget daily, and need to be reminded of, too.)

It was on the way home from dropping her off and having this conversations that the emotions of the day caught up with me and the tears came suddenly.

May tragedies like this serve to shore up the faith of my children. May they be strengthened to stand for Christ with both grace and truth. (Which is so much more difficult than adopting the cultural changes and trends and world views.)

May the many in Florida and beyond find hope in Christ in spite of the current horror and devastation. May He provide abundant grace for those who are grieving and left behind.  And may Christians be the first to stand up and call the tragedy exactly what it is, offering help and hope. These were our neighbors. These are our neighbors.

He Asked For Her Number: Part Five

It was probably about ten or eleven years ago that a kind, well-meaning older woman asked Kayla, who was about five or six years old at the time, what her favorite Christmas Carol was.

“Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” was her cute, but unfortunate reply.

By definition, a Christmas carol is a “song whose lyrics are on the theme of Christmas,” and so Dean Martin’s catchy version does not exactly qualify, but Kayla’s choice was really my own fault.

A few years prior to the Christmas Carol question, I had read a book called A Return to Modesty. It was on the sidewalk clearance table of a downtown bookstore. Intrigued, I bought it, and soon found out why it made its way to the discard pile so quickly. The author challenges feminist notions regarding the unqualified equalization of men and women, and among other intriguing topics, suggests that there is a correlation between the rise in feminist teaching and the rise in the abuse, assault and rape of women. And though her argument is quite well-documented and compelling, this is not a town that tolerates that type of conservative logic (though embracing “tolerance and diversity” is its self-deemed claim to fame), and so the book had a big red clearance sticker on it just months after its publication. They may have given it to me for free now that I think of it.

A Return to Modesty is where I first heard of the song “Baby, It’s Cold Outside.” The Jewish author, Wendy Shalit, uses it to illustrate a shift in the culture of dating and the protective devices which a woman used to have at her disposal. It’s a bit of a long quote, but here’s the excerpt in which this is explained:

“To appreciate the peculiar bind of a nineties girl who wants to say no to sex, first consider the 1948 song, “Baby, It’s Cold Outside,” by Frank Loesser. In this fuguelike tune, a woman, “the mouse,” begins each phrase, and her suitor, “the wolf,” chimes in relentlessly, but sweetly, behind her. The man has a hundred reasons why his date should not “hold out” – including, but not limited to, the fact that it is very cold outside. If his poor date were to leave, argues our Wolf, she would freeze, catch pneumonia and die. That, of course, would cause him “lifelong sorrow.” If she allowed him to “move in closer,” on the other hand, then they would both be nice and warm.  Our Mouse has her own reasons for begging off, which she scatters between his invitations:

My mother will start to worry…and Father will be pacing the floor…the neighbors might think…my sister will be suspicious…my brother will be there at the door…my maiden aunt’s mind is vicious…there’s bound to be talk tomorrow…at least there will be plenty implied.

Now this song is very stereotypical because certainly not all men are hungry wolves and not all women are reticent mice. Indeed, I’ve known quite a few hungry women and mousey men. However, the simple fact remains that a young woman in 1948 had a hundred and one reasons to say no to sex, if she wanted to say no, and those reasons were credible. The story we are told today is that all these reasons, such as a father waiting up for you, were oppressive to women. And yet in their absence we can appreciate how an earlier generation of girls was made powerful by them. A father waiting up for his daughter gave her room to stand on.” 
(Chapter 3: The Fallout)

After reading this, I wanted to hear the song. It happened to be Christmastime, and I was shopping at our local mall which happened to have a music store – records, CD’s, and stereos – oh my! This was well before iTunes, Pandora, and Spotify. I even had to ask an employee if they had heard of the song and help me find a CD that included it. “Christmas With The Rat Pack” is the one he found, and it became a new family favorite.  Kayla and I still love to listen to the Dean Martin Pandora station while baking Christmas cookies each December. And while it does include traditional Christmas carols or hymns (you know, about the God made flesh, etc), “Baby, It’s Cold Outside” was the one which stuck in my little five year old’s mind. Sigh…

Kayla’s response may have been a bit embarrassing for me at the time, but maybe it’s not all that disappointing. Maybe it’s helpful to have those lyrics in mind which reflect a time not so long ago in which there was accountability, responsibility, family unity, and an involved (even nosy) local community. Maybe it’s good and right that a father waits up for his daughter, meeting the eyes and shaking the hand of the man who brought her home. Maybe it’s good for the young man to know there is someone who is dedicated to protecting both the body and the heart of the young woman he takes out on a date. Maybe he should even have that father’s permission to do so.

You might think it’s sexist and patriarchal to send the boy to Dad rather than Mom, but just check the research on father-daughter relationships. Mom could be the most perfectly loving and supportive woman a girl (or boy) could ever hope to have in her (or his)  life, but if Dad isn’t all those same things, it really doesn’t matter as much how loving and supportive Mom is.

So, the fifth thing I want Kayla to know is that, for the young men who want to spend time with her…

5. Permission should be requested.

I’m not sure why this seems like such a crazy thing to require these days, but it IS crazy I’m told.  I’m not sure when we gave teens so much authority and autonomy or when we decided they have the maturity to always make wise decisions about dating. Can we not remember our own need for direction and protection? I love and trust the teens in my house very much, but the truth is they still make really foolish decisions and have extremely faulty logic. As much as they may hate it, it’s our responsibility to guide them and place protective boundaries in their lives while they are in our home and even beyond, if they will allow it.

So, I want my daughter to give the boy her dad’s number instead of hers. That’s right. It’s not a fool-proof sifting method for worthy men, of course, but it’s a good start at protecting her from unnecessary heartbreak and harm.

We made our boys do this. Want to take a girl to prom? Okay, great!  First you’ll need to call her dad and ask him if you can. Want to pursue a dating relationship with a young woman? That’s fine. But, you’ll need to ask her parents’ permission.

One young husband in our church loves to tell how grateful he is that his wife’s father took such and interest in him and really ended up discipling him in Christ and modeling how to be a godly husband.

(Here’s a great article on that very topic.)

We want our boys to know they are a steward of someone else’s treasure. We want them aware that they are accountable for how they care for not only the daughter of a human father, but even more importantly, the daughter of a Heavenly Father. She will not be his for selfish and destructive purposes. She first belongs to someone else and may not ultimately belong to him as a wife. In fact it’s likely that she will be someone else’s wife someday. We hope they will be sober about that reality, and that it will encourage them to greatly value and care for the woman they are interested in spending time with.

And we want any young man interested in our precious daughter to know the same.

It’s what God requires of husbands. Would the requirements for boyfriends be any less?

 Husbands, love your wives, just as Christ also loved the church and gave Himself up for her, so that He might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, that He might present to Himself the church in all her glory, having no spot or wrinkle or any such thing; but that she would be holy and blameless. So husbands ought also to love their own wives as their own bodies. He who loves his own wife loves himself: for no one ever hated his own flesh, but nourishes and cherishes it, just as Christ also does the church, because we are members of His body.
Ephesians 2: 25-30

The End.

(Except that I have about a million more thoughts on each of these things.)

(And I highly recommend A Return To Modesty as well as, Authentic Beauty, Emotional Purity, Sex and the Soul of a Woman, The Mark of a Man, and Let Me Be A Woman.)

He Asked For Her Number: Part Four

“Guys in my world seemed to value only girls who initiated relationships, flirting, and sex – girls who had absolutely no boundaries around their hearts or bodies.  At age fifteen, I found myself being molded into the kind of girl the world expected me to be.

The next season of my life was the most hellish I have ever experienced.  My desperate search for a prince who would cherish me forever had become my demise. I had listened to the voice of the culture and become the young woman it convinced me to be, hoping that the result would be the discovery of a happily-ever-after tale. Instead, my heart was mercilessly trampled time and time again.” 
Leslie Ludy,  Authentic Beauty

Eight years old was really too young to be going to see the movie Grease, but it was 1978, and the movie had just come out in theaters. My mom’s collection of vinyl records had already trained me to idolize Olivia Newton John’s voice and beauty, and so going to the movie was never in question. In my young heart and mind, it was a nice reprieve from all the Star Wars hoopla from the year before. (Though I enjoyed that one as well. Just not as much. Call me shallow and unsophisticated, it’s fine.) But even at eight years old, Olivia disappointed me when she tossed out her poodle skirt for black leather in order to please John Travolta. Something was just so wrong with that in my girlish mind.

I just thought of this but, Maybe Sandy and Danny are the reason I have such a difficult time getting on Team Jess in Rory Gilmore’s life!? They set me up to be skeptical and disdainful of rebellious tough guys dressed in leather. I mean, Danny was so sweet and gentlemanly over the summer and at the beach, and he was even turning from his macho ways by showing up at the carnival in a letterman’s sweater.  If Sandy had just stuck by her convictions, Danny may have been inspired to so much more. And I can’t even talk about Rory’s compromises for and because of Logan. It’s just depressing.

Anyway, my eight year old ideals did not change much over the years. I continued to believe that women should remain true to themselves fueled by God’s image in them and His faithfulness to them. I didn’t fully realize it at the time, but one reason for all of this was probably that I had become a Christian right before Grease hit theaters. Now that I think of it, God’s timing was so perfect. Had He not sovereignly orchestrated my salvation then, I probably would have been greatly influenced in another direction by Olivia’s black leather transformation. And not only that, but by the many opportunities to rebel with peers all around me and conform to the culture.

Oh, I had my moments, but most of them were fairly mild in comparison to the risks others were taking. For example, I did wear a two piece bathing suit once in high school under pressure from my boyfriend’s family to “show a little skin.” And I may have had a margarita or two while sitting with his parents by the lake. See what I mean? Not exactly what would be considered a walk on the wild side in most circles.

(This is just my story. I believe that all conversions are sovereignly orchestrated and timed, and that all are in equal need of forgiveness from sin. My seemingly goody-two-shoes life was still laden with sin and in need of forgiveness.)

One thing that those early experiences left me with was a deep sadness now when I watch girls compromise their convictions and ideals, their value and worth, their image-bearing status, and their God-given personalities. It brings me to the fourth thing I hope my daughter will cling to as she navigates the dating world.

4. Personality Permanence is Important

This is really just an awkward way of using the letter “P” alliteratively to say Stay true to who you are in Christ, your gifts, your hopes, your dreams, your desires. Resist the urge to try and change yourself to meet the expectations – stated or assumed – of a man or of anyone, really.

Because Kayla,

God put much thought into forming you from the inside out. He wove you together inside my womb. You were fearfully and wonderfully made, and every one of God’s works is good. They are purposeful and unique and individual. You were skillfully designed by the ultimate of Creators, and He has a lifetime of days planned for you to, according to your gifts and calling, bring Him glory. (from Psalm 139)

And you are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus ~ and again, created for good works that He prepared for you even before you were born. You were made to walk in those good and God-glorifying works. (from Ephesians 2:10)

You have also been bought with a price, a very expensive one. The brutal, unjust death of Christ Himself. Because of this, you are not your own, but are united to, indwelt by, and belong to Him. (from I Corinthians 6) What a privilege. Who can even fathom it? Our bodies, temples of the Holy Spirit?  Wow.

So, present your body to Him sacrificially in all situations – at home, on the track, on the stage, at church, with friends.  When you do that, you are worshiping Him. In fact, every act of obedience is an act of worship. (My favorite quote from Stepping Heavenward) And don’t let the culture, or men, or friends, conform you to their image or ideas, but do let the Lord transform you continually to His image and will. (From Romans 12)

Like Leslie told us in Authentic Beauty, listening to the voice of the culture will not bring you any happily-ever-afters. In fact, it may bring devastation. So, listen to the voice of the Lord. Be true to the person He created you to be, and to His calling, and to the gifts He’s given you. That’s where protection and life and joy and freedom are found. I can promise you that, because He promises that.

One thing that gives me hope that you will remain true to who you are in Christ is this:

Any guy who can’t appreciate the Pegacorn ought to be crossed off the list immediately.

But more importantly, any guy who can’t handle Jesus in you should be dropped entirely. You are worth so much more than that.

He Asked For Her Number: Part One

It was several years ago that we were alone in her new kitchen unpacking boxes and talking like only sisters can, when I knew I needed to ask her a question. The divorce papers had been filed, and she had moved to a new town, gotten a new job, and moved into a new house. We’d registered the kids for their new schools and put new shelves in the pantry closet, but there was one new thing I thought she might not have considered yet.

A bit hesitantly, I threw it out there: “What are you going to do when someone asks you out on a date?”

She’ll admit even today that the question sort of stopped her in her tracks.  Indeed, it was a new thing she had not yet considered. In fact, I really don’t think she thought it would happen anytime soon and she tried to brush it off as unlikely.

I tried to point out the obvious: “But, you’re beautiful. You’re kind and compassionate. You’re fun. You’re creative and intelligent. It’s going to happen, and you need to be prepared for that moment.”

She tucked it away, and I was vindicated when a stranger walked up to her at the Central Market sushi case and asked her out not too long afterward. A complete stranger. Maybe one of his criteria for soul mate was “must love sushi,” but my guess is that she could have been in line at Taco Bell and the same thing would have happened.

Fast forward a few years from that moment to this month. This time we weren’t in a new kitchen, we were at an away track meet. This time it wasn’t my sister, it was my daughter. And this time my foresight in asking preparatory, probing questions was missing. Or maybe I’ve just been in denial.

We noticed the guys from the other high school hanging around our daughter and some of the girls on her relay team at the meet a couple of weeks ago. Actually, Robert noticed it sooner than I did. When I saw them, I simply thought “What nice, friendly boys. How refreshing.” I think I might have even chalked it up to good sportsmanship.  You know, congratulating the other team and stuff.

Those were not my husband’s thoughts, of course. And honestly, I don’t know what happened to my “shrewd as a snake” instincts, because typically, I am the suspicious one, the discerning one, the skeptical one. I can usually size up a person or a situation in moments, and know exactly what’s up, but not this time.

I didn’t think about it another minute, until we picked Kayla up back at the high school, and took her to eat at her favorite downtown burger restaurant. She had gotten a PR in the 100 meter dash and qualified for the Western Mass meet, so a celebration seemed appropriate. While enjoying our burgers and bottomless fries, she casually mentioned that one of those guys had asked for her number. Others had overheard and she received some friendly teasing from her teammates on the bus ride back to town.

“What did you say to him?” we asked.

She had given him a smile and a polite “no.” And then lied and said she didn’t even have a phone, which he knew wasn’t true, which then probably landed him some friendly teasing.

We sort of laughed about it for a few minutes, but I didn’t sleep much that night.

We have spent a TON of time talking to our kids or reading books about sex, dating, male/female relationships, marriage, etc. Just ask them. They will probably roll their eyes in acknowledgment. So, it’s not like we weren’t expecting this or preparing them for this, but somehow I was caught off guard, and the incident had me awake grieving something like a loss of innocence in my little girl. My little girl who will be 16 in two short months.

Physical beauty. The attention of men – good and bad. Attraction. Romance. All these things swirling through my head and dreams all night long. Why hadn’t I thought to ask my teenaged daughter the same question I’d asked my grown-up sister: What would she do if someone asked her out, or asked for her number? She’s almost 16. She’s beautiful. She’s kind and compassionate.  She’s a ton of fun.  She’s creative and intelligent. It’s bound to happen and she needs to be ready for it.

The problem was that I wasn’t ready for it.

I mean, she’s homeschooled and she has limited exposure to guys her age. (Running for the high school track team has brought plenty of exposure to all kinds of sexual things though, believe me.) But that’s the thing. The quantity of exposure doesn’t matter. Men are men. They are created to be attracted to feminine beauty. It’s a gift of the Creator Himself, and it’s a very good one. Unfortunately, the fall of man and the entry of sin into the world make this a very complicated thing. So, how do I help her navigate this very good thing that can possibly turn into a very bad thing in a heartbeat?

Just a few days ago she was on a walk with a friend and two guys in a truck passed by shouting their approval and a hearty hello. It’s just inevitable, and I know it from her experiences, from mine, and from the tell-tale coffee dates with hundreds of young women throughout the years. My denial can no longer be an excuse for putting these conversations off with my own little girl. She is still my little girl though she hovers over me by about 4 inches now.

What do I want my daughter to know so that she will be well-equipped to handle herself in future situations which may not be as easy or friendly? How can I encourage her to maintain the humble confidence which is already in her? An ability to receive attention or compliments, but to keep focused on Christ and wait patiently for His perfect timing and for the right man? How can I help her enjoy friendships and relationships with young men, but protect both her heart and her body?

I truly think she’s fairly well-equipped and mature already. She amazes me with her wisdom and understanding many days. But even the best of us fall into traps again and again. And it’s not always the end of the world, but sometimes it’s close.

The biblical gender role dance is so exciting and beautiful, and illustrates the gospel itself. Christ and His bride. The strong and sacrificial lover and the chosen and cherished beloved. This is what I want for her even though I know it will never be perfect.

So, I’ve thought of a few things to say to her since the track meet incident, and I’m hoping to write them down here in the next day or so.  Stay tuned. And feel free to send me your own thoughts and ideas in the mean time.

Still The Best Convent

Mother’s Day 2009
This is a re-post from 2009.  Nothing has changed except that everyone is now at least 3 inches taller than me, and it’s not ice skating lessons, ballet, field trips, and Little League games, but coordinating the use of the car, track practice, job schedules, college visits and care packages. I still believe motherhood has been the best convent (a community of persons devoted to religious life under a superior) for my personal sanctification. My “community” being my marriage to Robert, and our “Superior” being Christ. 
In The Five Aspects of Woman, Barbara Mouser discusses the sanctity of motherhood – the setting yourself aside for the purpose of motherhood. She explores the reasons women may try and “fit motherhood in around the edges” rather than devote themselves to it as they would a career or a cause. The reasons are fairly obvious…no instant gratification, no accolades, acknowledgments, or awards, no salary, and yet the requirement of an all-out surrendering of your time, your body, your sleep, your mental energy…..in three words, your whole self.

This just seems like a very long, painful, and unnecessary route to maturity, respect, and security. And though there are other paths beside motherhood to these things, listen to the requirements of the early church for the taking in of widows who are in need of financial support. These widows were provided for by the church in return for their service in the church and ministry to other women.


“Let a widow be put on the list only if she is not less than sixty years old, having been the wife of one man, having a reputation for good works; and if she has brought up children, if she has shown hospitality to strangers, if she has washed the saints’ feet, if she has assisted those in distress, and if she has devoted herself to every good work.”  

I Timothy 5:9,10


Mother’s Day 2013
In other words, the best preparation for leadership and responsibility for a woman was not a college degree, or a career crashing through the glass ceiling, but the giving of herself to her own home, her own family, and her own church.

It reminds me of a scene from my favorite book, Stepping Heavenward. In this exchange, Katy’s husband has asked her to visit one of his patients. The patient is a very young woman whose main ailments are boredom, apathy, and selfishness. The young woman talks of her efforts to help poor children (they were unruly and smelly) and mentions that she might have joined a convent, but those are now out of vogue….. (HA!)


“The best convent,” I (Katy) said, “for a woman is the seclusion of her own home. There she may find her vocation and fight her battles, and there she may learn the reality and the earnestness of life.”

“Pshaw!” cried she (Miss Clifford, the “patient”). “Excuse me, however, for saying that; but some of the most brilliant girls I know have settled down into mere married women and spend their whole time in nursing babies! Think how belittling!”

“Is it more so than spending it in dressing, driving, dancing, and the like?”

“Of course it is. I had a friend once who shone like a star in society. She married and had four children as fast as she could. Well! What was the consequence? She lost her beauty, lost her spirit and animation, lost her youth, and lost her health. The only earthly things she can talk about are teething, dieting, and the measles!”

“As you have spoken plainly to me, knowing me to be a wife and a mother, you must allow me to speak plainly in return,” I began.

“Oh, speak plainly, by all means! I am quite sick and tired of having truth served up in pink cotton and scented with lavender.”

“Then you will permit me to say that when you speak contemptuously of the vocation of maternity, you dishonor not only the mother who bore you but the Lord Jesus Himself, who chose to be born of woman and to be ministered unto by her through a helpless infancy.”

Miss Clifford was a little startled.

“How terribly earnest you are!” she said. It is plain that to you, at any rate, life is indeed no humbug.”
I thought of my dear ones, of Ernest, of my children, of Mother, and of James; and I thought of my love for them and theirs for me. And I thought of Him who alone gives reality to even such joys as these. My face must have been illuminated by the thought, for she dropped the bantering tone she had used hitherto and asked with real earnestness:


(Have I mentioned that I love books that use the words “hitherto” and “earnestness?”)


“What is it you know, and that I do not know, that makes you so satisfied while I am so dissatisfied?”

I hesitated before I answered, feeling as I never felt before, how ignorant, how unfit to lead others I really am. Then I said:
“Perhaps you need to know God, to know Christ.”


Stepping Heavenward, pp.262-264


Mother’s Day 2014
Cooper went with me to Texas to move Kory out of his dorm last year over Mother’s Day weekend.
We went to Austin Stone on Mother’s Day and ate lunch at Whole Foods = Perfect!
I wish I could say that I have devoted myself fully to motherhood and not tried to just fit it in around the edges. It is the hardest job in the world, requiring the greatest sacrifice – and I am selfish! I want time to myself, to do the things I want to do, when I want to do them without having to take four other people into consideration! And it may appear that I have completely devoted myself to my family from this glowing blog and the fact that I homeschool my kids and therefore spend nearly every day, all day with them, but don’t be fooled! I struggle with this giving away of self every day. And yet, in doing it by faith for 14 years, I have grown. It has been the main avenue of sanctification in my life, and I can truly say I am thankful for the transforming power it has been. Within the walls of my own home, I have found my strengths and weaknesses, fought many battles, and learned the realities of life. I have had to cling to Jesus, and have come to experience Him in the intimacy my heart so desires.

It has indeed been the best convent for me. 


It has now been 20 years of motherhood for me. (That’s right.  Kory turns 20 next month. How did that happen???) Come August, I’ll only have Kayla at home. (Poor girl!) Kory will be a junior at Baylor, and Cooper will be beginning a “gap year” of work and adventure in California. It is both heart wrenching and exciting to watch them go.  There will be many tears, but also much delight in watching them move into the next season of life. I have plenty of regrets regarding my failures as a mother from the last 20 years, but none regarding the choice to be a mom, even a stay-at-home-homeschooling mom for all that time. Katy’s right, it is Christ who alone gives reality to such joys as these, and I know Him more intimately because of the both the joys and the regrets.





Last Tuesday morning Cooper woke up to a terrible stomach virus. 12 hours of vomiting, fever, aches, chills, back pain.  Just horrible.  We had to head to the pediatrician’s evening office hours for emergency meds to alleviate the nausea so that he could keep fluids down.  He was down for the count for three days and in some ways is still recovering. I hated that he was sick, but I loved one last opportunity to take care of him before he moves out. One last chance to rub his head and tell him it would be over soon. One last time of cleaning up after him and offering him comfort, a cool cloth, and an iced drink. One last tangible way to show him that despite my nagging and frustration with him at times (many, many times), he’s mine, and I love him so much. 

Oh, they’ll always be my kids and I’ll always be their mom, I know.  But the season of hands-on motherhood is drawing to a close and I’m treasuring and pondering every moment.
I hope this Mother’s Day brings you much hope in Christ knowing that the call is one of great challenge and self-sacrifice, but also one of great joy and rejoicing. And I pray that hitherto you will exercise great earnestness in setting yourself aside for this purpose, if you are so called.  It is worth every explosive diaper, pool of puke, bedtime ritual, and Little League game.  I promise.

It Was Too Cold To Blog

 See what I mean?  You really can’t do anything in temps like that. The winter of 2015 was a deep freeze like we’ve never experienced before. And then my blog disappeared probably also due to the arctic temps. I had to rescue it from cyberspace by approving my domain name via Robert’s near-obsolete chilidogk AOL email ~ ha!  All better now.

The icicles just kept growing and growing until they were scary.

 The picture of our house was taken early on ~ before Christmas.  By the end, the snow was covering the front steps and shrubs…

…and picnic table.
And as much as I wanted to stay under the covers drinking hot tea, we did manage to fit in quite a lot of winter activities. Our women’s retreat was in February, mostly due to no one having anything else to do when it’s below zero outside.  During free time I went snow shoeing with these lovely ladies.  Rachel, on the far right, is from India, and thoroughly enjoyed the novelty of excessive amounts of snow and special shoes to trek through it!

Cooper, Kayla, and I enjoyed another 6 weeks of Thursdays at Mt. Snow in Vermont with lots of our homeschool friends. I can still keep up with the young ‘ens for the most part, but their skills improve and their speed increases with each year ~ complete with spins and jumps. I’d just like to be able to keep skiing each winter without killing myself.  Honestly, the lift is the scariest part for me. I’m getting old.
Mt. Snow is absolutely beautiful ~ and so is this little ski bunny!
We had very special visitors ~ Romy and Matt ~ from Switzerland who always come bearing the finest of Swiss treats. Such a lovely time catching up with these two, and then just a couple of days later we FINALLY got to escape our ice tundra for warmer climates and a part of the country to which we’d never been…
San Francisco!
It was wonderful to get away and participate in the Collegiate Church Planter Collaborative in Oakland with these friends and fellow church planters as well as collegiate church planters from all over the country.  Our friend from Stillwater, OK, Brian Frye, was the mastermind behind the conference. I’ve limited myself to an hour for getting this blog out (the to-do list is LONG), so I don’t have time to tell you about the wonderful people we got to meet and the incredible church ~ Gracepoint Oakland ~ that hosted us, but it was all so encouraging and fun. Robert got to speak to the whole group ~ about 200 people ~ one morning, and I helped lead a seminar called “Help, I’m Married To A Collegiate Church Planter” as well as with a video (horrors!) on ministering to collegiate women.

 Chris and Patrick are pastors in Lowell, MA and good friends of ours.  We had a blast seeing the Golden Gate Bridge, hiking through Muir Woods, and hanging out on the wharf with them. (Somehow I managed a semi-muddy three mile hike in a skirt and flats.  Totally worth it.)

The New England Contingency (Why am I the only girl?)

 We extended our stay in the Bay Area so that I could see my one of my dearest high school friends and her family.  It was a quick 30 minute train ride to their home and we packed in as much as we could in just two short days which included quite a lot of physical exercise!  Kerry took me to her Smart Barre (ballet/pilates) class which almost killed me, and then we went for a run on their local bike trail with Robert.  The next day was a 2 hour hike around a beautiful reservoir. It was non-stop talking and catching up and cooking and eating and laughing and just so wonderful.

We went back to San Francisco one night to visit with another dear friend, Greg, but for the life of me I can’t find the picture that I know I took of him and Robert right here on the famous Lombard Street. Anyway, we had a wonderful evening walking and talking and eating In and Out Burgers and drinking Starbucks.
There have been babies born and hospital visits…
The Worcester gals and Baby Analiz!
Soren was born in January ~ most prayed for baby ever!
There was a trip to a casino (shhhh….) with friends and fellow church planters, Shaun and Deshni ~ but only for steaks at the Michael Jordan Steakhouse, I promise. We loved seeing their new church building (located between two major casinos and ministering to lots of folks who work there) and hearing about all that God is doing in southern Connecticut.

 Then it was Palm Sunday and Holy Week and the Passover Seder and Crosswalk and Good Friday service and Easter…Whew. (30 people at my house for Easter which may be a record!?)

 Some new family members showed up in the frames on my piano on April 1.  Kayla loves a practical joke and this one was perfect with all our favorites: Grumpy Cat, Jack Black/Bernie, and T-Swift: Insane Girlfriend Version. It is now April 17 and these photos are still on display.  I have forgotten which photos were originally in place ~ and that would be a small indicator of the chaos of life now (and for what seems like forever) ~ no time to do anything but the next thing.

Now it’s time for spring track for Kayla.  She’s tearing it up in the 100m sprint as well as the sprint relay.  She also had to run the 400m recently and like a typical sprinter thought she might die due to the LONG distance.  She did GREAT!

 Just when we thought the snow and ice were over and gone, this happened last week while I was out running.  It was depressing, but we have had a couple of 60+ degree days since complete with sunshine which I thought might be gone forever.

 And then this happened on Tuesday…

Four wisdom teeth out and lots of ice cream and couch time.  He’s still hurting today, but up and about and on the mend overall.

 Oh ~ and it took us forever, but Robert and I finally finished this…

…which was such a great show.  My goodness.  Tears every episode.
But now we can give our full attention to this…
If Parenthood made us cry every time, Gilmore Girls makes us laugh out loud.  Sadly, many of the 70’s and 80’s references are lost on our kids (there are hundreds!), but Robert and I crack up.  If you’re looking for a light, funny, and (almost entirely, but not quite entirely) clean show ~ this one’s for you!
Okay ~ my hour to blog was over about 20 minutes ago, but there’s a quick ~  even if it is kinda shallow (because it’s highly edited to make us look all fun and carefree…) update on the last three months.
Maybe (hopefully) it won’t be so long next time. Thanks for checking in friends!