this she could do

Loving God

2011-05-15T06:21:00.000-04:00

So many days
an empty space
lingers in the place
marked "love for You."

Where do they go,
these fickle aches
of longing, love
and need of you?

"Choose," you said,
to give to me
your love
in actions real.

Do not rely
on feelings, fading --
waiting for Everests
to appear.

DO love,
consciously,
attentive and active,
regardless.

It can not be passive--
"Love the Lord
your God
with all your heart."

But asks,
demands:
I must ACT
when I don't feel.

Endless Gifts

2009-10-19T10:37:00.000-04:00

His gifts go on, even though I am not recording them.

Today I am thankful for:

69. salt
70. a teacher who is helping me so much
71. cool water
72. the delicious sound of pasta boiling on the stove.

For Memorial Day

2009-05-24T03:46:00.003-04:00

The bugle echoes shrill and sweet,
But not of war it sings to-day.
The road is rhythmic with the feet
Of men-at-arms who come to pray.

The roses blossom white and red
On tombs where weary soldiers lie;
Flags wave above the honored dead
And martial music cleaves the sky.

Above their wreath-strewn graves we kneel,
They kept the faith and fought the fight.
Through flying lead and crimson steel
They plunged for Freedom and the Right.

May we, their grateful children, learn
Their strength, who lie beneath this sod,
Who went through fire and death to earn
At last the accolade of God.

In shining rank on rank arrayed
They march, the legions of the Lord;
He is their Captain unafraid,
The Prince of Peace...Who brought a sword.

- Joyce Kilmer, 1917

Sights, sounds, smells

2009-04-17T08:20:00.003-04:00

66. A well-traveled boy safely returned - a glad sight for this mother's eyes.

67. The sound of a spoon digging into a piece of watermelon.

68. The heavy fragrance of the gardenia bush in bloom -

perfuming the evening air.

69. Small sister's arm around the shoulders of the returning brother.

Evidence of His Love

2009-03-13T13:33:00.001-04:00

The brilliant reds and greens of fresh cherry tomatoes.

Beauty in an ugly corner.

Translucent beauty.

Fractals - in a vegetable (Romanesco cabbage)!

For more information about the math in this vegetable, try this very educational site from the UK.

Snapshots on Sunday

2009-03-01T07:05:00.000-05:00

More reasons to be thankful:

60. A tray of empty cocoa mugs - evidence of family story time.

61. Crooked candles on a simple cake.

Giving Thanks

2009-02-26T11:59:00.001-05:00

It has been a long while since I wrote of things for which I am thankful. God's gifts are so many, yet I have found it far harder than I expected to cultivate the attitude of thanksgiving I had envisioned. Today is Ash Wednesday and though my background is not liturgical, I feel led to attend to the season of Lent this year, much as we spend December in increased attentiveness through Advent.

As I focus on the life and death of Jesus in the next 40 days, I hope also to focus more on thankfulness, including these:

55. The scent of tomato plants in the garden

56. The sour-sweetness of the first ripe tomato

57. Little girl arms wrapped around daddy's neck - welcoming home

58. A favorite salad - enjoyed only once a year here

59. Small hands gathering beans

Unreliable internet in our remote place prevented me from posting this yesterday, and from adding the photos I would like to share.

Intertwined, Uprooted

2009-02-10T09:51:00.097-05:00

It is spring here: the height of our gardening season. One recent afternoon saw me out in the garden, collecting sprigs of oregano, leaves of basil, bunches of parsley, and other green goodness for our evening meal.

Last, I headed to collect some mint.

Ours resides in a cement ring, to be raised above the flooding of the rains.

It is high season for mint.

The pot is full and green as I approach it from across the yard.

But mint is not all that grows there this spring.

Clover crowds in, vying for space in the damp warmth.

The clover has been at its work for a while now,

winding vines and runners around those of mint.

Unseen, ignored.

The two are intertwined.

Clearing the clover will take time, patience, effort:

but a necessary task if the mint is to survive, to thrive,

to send deep and spreading roots through its earthen home.

Should the rains arrive while the mint

is weakened by competition

and overcrowding,

it may not survive the onslaught - up to 120 inches of rain - in the space of a few weeks.

This particular clover is serious about gaining the upper hand.

Already, it is flowering, preparing to bear seed.

And so, I begin: painstakingly tracing out and removing

each root, each leaf,

each trailing stem seeking to put roots in yet another part of the pot.

It is tedious work, this uprooting of established weeds.

My legs ache from crouching low over the mess.

The sun beats hot on my back.

Other work beckons from the kitchen.

But this seems important, vital work somehow.

Why do I care today, about mint and weeds?

And then it comes, the soft voice in my mind,

showing me why mint matters on this busy

'company's coming for dinner' afternoon:

Sin -- all sin -- edges into life in the same way as

clover has forced its way into this pot.

It creeps into some unwatched corner -

a tendril from a neighbor,

a seed from a passing friend

- it slips in unnoticed

and makes quick work of spreading roots and seeds,

and destruction.

A little gossip here, a seed of impatience there;

of what importance is a few moments of sloth, or a tendril of unbelief?

Yet soon, sin - or clover - has done its work

and we are far from where we could have been

from where we - and HE - wants us to be.

A friend has come, to aid in clearing the weeds.

The work shared is simpler, less painful,

with tinges of

joy?

Can it be that the painful work of rooting out sin is easier when shared?

The work is done
leaving gaps and scarred dirt where beautiful
yet ugly weeds once grew.

Pulling up sin leaves scars
empty spaces
waiting to be filled.

The weed will return if I am not careful
vigilant
removing each trace of clover's rebirth.

The sin will return if I am not prayerful
vigilant
letting Him root out each attempt of sin to return.

Thank you for the lesson of mint and weeds,
for being the REMARKABLE in the unremarkable of life.

photos from our mint patch

Wounds

2008-12-06T23:05:00.001-05:00

I myself am made entirely of flaws, stitched together with good intentions.

- Augusten Burroughs

This is us, really. In our natural, sinful state. Flaws, sins, shortcomings, insufficiencies. And we try, so dilligently, to hold all these pieces together into something that resembles wholeness; something that will fool others into thinking we "have it all together."

I tried last night - when the dog bit Wonder Boy in the face and he needed three stitches on his nose. He chose me to accompany him to the hospital for the stitches. I would have rather stayed home while Daddy went. It was late and I was so tired, having gotten up at 5:15 for our trip back home after a week away. We walked up to the hospital (a benefit of living here is the surgeon is our neighbor, and the hospital is a 2 minute walk away). We waited while he and the nurse readied the place and the equipment. Wonder Boy was so brave - asking only: "Tell me when he's gonna' stick the needle in."

But me - not so brave. My stomach started churning. I got flushed and dizzy. The doctor/neighbor noticed that I was not doing so well and had a stool fetched, while I squatted on the floor, trying not to faint. He kindly reassured me that I should not be embarrassed: "this is a very normal reaction," he said. But I was embarrassed - believing that having a panic attack / fainting spell while my SON was the one in pain and having stitches somehow made me less of a mom, less of a person. Where do these voices come from? The Enemy, I know, whispers into our weakest moments: "You are garbage. You are not worthy of being a mom. You are a failure for not protecting your child."

I did fail, last night - not by not keeping the dog from biting - that was an accident, and the wounds will heal. I failed to keep the ragged, ugly edges of myself stitched together, despite my good intentions. Most days, I keep things well sewn-up. But I think God writes difficult pages into our stories precisely so that we will be unable to stay in one piece. It is in our brokenness that we cry out: "Save me, Lord, for I am sinking!"

When I called, you answered me;

you increased my strength within me.
Psalm 138:4

And he answers. And we survive, more broken, and yet more healed than before. That is grace.

Gratitude goes on . .

2008-11-28T01:53:00.000-05:00

52. Little girl's giggles as she discovers the joys of planting beans.

53. Hard work well done.

54. Learning together.

Just a thought

2008-11-25T00:00:00.000-05:00

From iGoogle's Quotes of the Day:

In the United States there is more space where nobody is than where anybody is. That is what makes America what it is.
- Gertrude Stein

I think this is part of why we find life here sometimes challenging. We are used to the idea of space.

One place I'd rather not eat . . .

2008-11-22T03:49:00.000-05:00

No. other. comment.

Random Thoughts

2008-11-11T10:48:00.000-05:00

The weather has turned cold here. Two nights this week have reached 60. The children wake up and shiver, rooting around for blankets in the hidden corners. How used to the heat we have become. But the poor feel the cold most of all. They do not - cannot - eat enough to produce extra body heat.

My garden is growing. Beans are reaching for the sky, lettuce trying to peek through. The tomato plants are gorgeous - sprouting new leaves nearly every day. But the carrots are being rebellious. They seem to prefer dying underground to growing toward the light.

School is nearly finished for the year. Songs and prayers, sums, wars, alphabets, and radish sprouts all studied, ingested, retold. And we are changed for the doing of it. Perhaps the teacher-mommy most of all.

A local girl, without a father, and with a mother whose new husband does not want her around, has found in me a soft spirit. She is certainly in need. Her grandfather, upon whom she relies for shelter, is badly disabled with leprosy. But I am limited by how little of her need I can understand. She had no shoes, it seems. She has no sweater for these cool nights, or so she tells me. It may very well be truth, but I can not read between the lines. I can not see into her soul. I must ask others to do this for me. So I have given a little - our eldest's sandals, too small for her by a bit, but something; a little food; some clothes for a younger sibling. But mostly, I wait to see what our co-workers can discern of her true need. It is hard to know how to help best.

A 4-year-old-girl's evening prayer brought a chuckle: "Dear Jesus, thank you for Mommy and Daddy and me and everybody in the whole world and my brothers and the neighbors and my friends, and that man to get out of jail (she refers to a colleague). And thank you that they live in a wood house and everything is ok. (??? perhaps the beavers in the Narnia book we are reading?) And Amen. I said AMEN!

Little moments stitched together. This is life.

Thankfulness

2008-10-31T13:14:00.001-04:00

So many things to be thankful for, yet so few written down. Here are a few from today:

49. Companionable silence

50. Holding hands

51. Today's sermon

Letting go

2008-09-13T23:21:00.000-04:00

of dreams of a picture postcard life is not easy. We all have them, I suppose: those mental pictures, reinforced by the idol-images of Better Homes and Gardens, parenting magazines, or even Today's Christian Woman and (dare I say it?) believers' blogs. Someone called a brand of this "Mommy-porn": perfect images of celebrity moms, perfectly fit, in their perfect rooms, cradling perfectly dressed and mannered children.

But I think it is idolatry. At least in my own life, these images, ideas, even dreams become idols: my rooms should look "like this;" my children should behave "like this;" my meals should taste "like this;" my life should be lived in "this way."

Where is authenticity? Where is reality? Life is a messy, complicated thing. It is not, can not be picture perfect. The ugly, the loud, the failure teach by His grace - as surely as do the beautiful, the peaceful, and the gentle. To live in the "someday my life will look like this" dreamworld is to miss the tangible evidences of God in TODAY.

Yet the dreams persist, creep back again and again to tempt and to taunt. The dream of "perfect" lures me away from being perfected . And still He calls, beckons me to leave my idols and return to Him. What grace!

Grateful thanks to Ann whose thoughts and prayers led me to think and pray also; who shares the ugly along with the beautiful. And that is real.

Mother Ducks

2008-08-24T11:50:00.002-04:00

I am awed and inspired, as usual, by these powerful thoughts from Holy Experience.

Morning thoughts

2008-08-19T21:40:00.002-04:00

Keeping a consistent morning time to meet with God has never been one of my strong points. I am not a morning person, and any out-of-the-ordinary occurrence seems to upset my routines. Put more plainly, it is pretty hard for me to get up early in the morning unless I have had a good night's sleep.

This morning was a good one, and I am meditating on Ephesians 2:10.

For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Though this is not a new verse to me, God showed it to me in a new light today. "Good works" always meant to me the work that we do that others see - like living overseas to work with those affected by leprosy. That makes perfect sense, and I think is an appropriate application of the verse.

But today's thought is that the good works which God has prepared for me to do are most often the hidden ones: parenting gently, preparing meals, holding a child's hand, welcoming guests, listening carefully to the concerns of my husband and children, praying . . .

I think that for this wife, mom, and home educator, these are my main tasks, and were every bit as prepared in advance for me to do as the seemingly larger tasks of my husband's work.

Father, keep me ever mindful that each task in my day pleasant or difficult, comes from your unchanging, loving hand.

Written a while back, this was not posted then due to internet issues.

A beautiful new look

2008-07-30T11:29:00.004-04:00

for my blog, courtesy of MaddieLynn. As I told her, its cheerful colors and design are inspiring and just make me feel happy!

She has been wonderful to work with by email and very prompt. I highly recommend you visit her site if you are looking for a cheery re-work of your blog! The link is in the left sidebar.

Thanks, MaddieLynn!

Of highlights

2008-07-27T00:25:00.004-04:00

47. A patch of blue in a clouded sky.

48. The dull clouds, framing the blue, highlighting its beauty.

Just a thought - when clouds crowd the sky of my day, threatening to obscure His light, do I see only the gray, or do I look for the brightness of his Glory breaking through?

Lord, let me always see the obstructions and encumbrances of this broken world as frames to highlight your grace, opportunities for your beauty to break through.

Photo courtesy of FreeStockPhotos.com

Gifts

2008-07-20T12:54:00.006-04:00

44. A child's hand holding mine.

45. The sound of their laughter.

46. A safe journey.

Thank you, Father. What grace you bestow.

in a day

2008-07-13T05:49:00.004-04:00

40. A day to be reminded . . .

41. . . . of hands . . .

42. . . . and feet . . .

43. . . . and purpose.

It's all grace, all from his hands.

Photos from a clinic I was able to attend.

. . . and giving . . .

2008-06-21T04:57:00.008-04:00

37. Tea to sooth a sore throat.

38. A dry day. (Laundry, and other things, drying)

39. The love of a brother. (Wonder Boy and Princess Grace share a towel after playing in the rain)

Molding

2008-06-18T06:37:00.005-04:00

Seven years worth of half-spent candles fill a bowl to overflowing. Seven winters of occasional warmly-lit dinners; seven advents spent; seven years of occasional electric-less evenings. Candles don't last long here, soon growing gray and dirty - long before they can be used up.

Today, it was time for the red candles to find new life. Red brings great joy to this mommy, so fully half of these old pillars are red. A cutting board and large knife soon reduce the pile to small, ugly chunks. A large old can, a heavy sauce pot, and two or three damp matches are applied to the task, and before long, pieces soften and smooth into a deep red gloss.

Little hands and eyes crowd, eager to see this process. Questions fill the air. String cut and tied to pencils - the dipping begins.
Slowly, 5 small lives (3 homegrown, 2 borrowed) turn bare string into small tapers, ready to be put into service. They will give only a small light, and will burn for but a few moments, but there has been joy in the forming of them.

An hour or two of my time went into candle-molding today; an hour or two of me, invested in child-molding at the same time. This is what it is, parenting: moments gathered together or scattered around, events shared, lessons learned.

With each moment, another layer of wax is added to the candle.

With each moment, another layer of being is added to the child.

The hand holding the candle must be steady, attentive, mindful of the wax and the water - lest the candle become crooked and unusable.

The heart guiding the child must likewise be steady, attentive, and mindful of His Heart - for the child is His child first.

Three small candles, newly formed, are prized in this home tonight.

Three small lives, forming, are prized in heaven tonight. How brightly they will burn and for how long, is know only to Him who formed them.

Use me to mold them well, through your grace and for your service, Father.

He gives . . .

2008-06-13T23:12:00.000-04:00

33. The night-song of cicadas and crickets.

34. Hymns to sing, a little off-key, with the children.

35. The roof, our monsoon playground.

36. Rain pounding on our corrugated aluminum roof: the music of the season.

Grace that keeps giving . . .

2008-06-01T11:59:00.004-04:00

32. The sweetest pineapple EVER!

33. A friend to look after things while we are away.

34. Reading Runaway Bunny with Princess Grace on my lap.

35. A new generator - keeping us cool this evening.

36. The certainty of knowing that HE knows, even thought right now, nothing seems clear to us.

Gleaning

2008-05-23T23:37:00.005-04:00

She stoops, shuffling through the remains of what, just a few hours before, had been a field of golden-crowned green. Her back bent with toil and age, she retrieves the missed stalks one, maybe two at a time. Her worn hands tell the story of her life: work, hard and long. The end of her sari is drawn over her head, shading her from sun and scorn. Over and over she bends to add a few more grains of rice to the family pot.

When you reap the harvest of your land, moreover, you shall not reap to the very corners of your field nor gather the gleaning of your harvest; you are to leave them for the needy and the alien. I am the LORD your God. Leviticus 23:22

. . . not so in this place where each bundle is carefully cut, wrapped, and counted. Very little is left for the poor, and so many are so poor. And each must earn her keep.

She struggles on, moving from field to field, finding only a few bits left over. Hopeless.

Is this how I approach you, LORD? Tiredly following behind, occasionally gleaning a bit of hope or truth or life?

Do I not realize this truth:

The believer is a favoured gleaner, for he may take home a whole sheaf, if he likes: he may bear away all that he can possibly carry, for all things are freely given him of the Lord. --Charles Spurgeon

I settle for so little. Yet He has said that everything we need is available to us!

Oh, LORD, you have given so much, yet I notice so little. You have provided thoroughly, yet I seem to prefer the scant pickings I happen to find. Help me to embrace my position as a favoured gleaner, that you may receive more glory!

Art: detail of The Gleaners by Millet

always giving . . .

2008-05-17T23:16:00.000-04:00

29. The smell of rain.

30. Fresh pasta, ready for dinner.

31. Lychees!

continuing on . . .

2008-05-16T08:54:00.005-04:00

24. Our restful Friday Sabbaths in our "other home country."

25. The momentary flash of pink in the early dusk clouds - relieving the mundane-ness of washing dishes.

26. An amazing sunrise today, noticed by The Scholar alone; perhaps painted by God's hand for this child alone.

27. The helpful spirit in Wonder Boy as he crouches and crowds to help Daddy install some new shelves.

28. Six small hands eager to help with some painting.

It's all about Him . . .

Quote for today . . .

2008-05-14T22:26:00.006-04:00

Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive. It would be better to live under robber barons than under omnipotent moral busybodies. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for our own good will torment us without end for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.

C. S. Lewis

From The Quotations Page.

His endless gifts . . .

2008-05-08T03:54:00.004-04:00

20. Freedom to study history - so that we never forget the mistakes of the past.

21. Freedom to worship - may we NEVER take it for granted.

22. The excitement of a child as he learns something new.

23. Books

After the Storm

2008-05-06T12:21:00.003-04:00

After the storm I wrote about last, we were out driving to visit a friend/co-worker. It is actually fairly unusual for us to drive anywhere, so I was glad for the chance to see the damage. I was relieved to see that while some fields were damaged, they were for the most part ones that were ready to harvest. So while the plants are laying down, it will not be much extra work for those that hand-cut the stalks.

Praise God!

Storm

2008-05-01T15:12:00.004-04:00

A quiet evening. Children tucked into beds, adults sharing a game and quiet laughter around the table. But it was coming. The wind. The rain. Hints of it had lingered in the heavy air all afternoon. My shirt soaked from the heat of the kitchen as I made pizzas for them all, I wished for relief. A breeze. Rain.

But not like this. Not a storm where the rain is blown across rather than down. My comfort is nothing compared to the trauma that this storm will cause.

All around us, the rice paddies stand full and green. Each plant with its head bowed low, heavy with full grains. But not yet ripe; not yet ready for the hands that will cut each stalk, one by one. The storm season has been gentle this year. But this storm, in this place, will cause untold suffering. Delicate fields will be flattened under the weight of their still-green food and the force of the assault. The heads will have no chance to ripen once their stalks have been broken.

Already, our neighbors are suffering. Their staple provisions cost more than they can pay. So many are starving, some quickly, most slowly: the slow death of perpetual hunger.

I whisper, Lord, have mercy on these who don't even yet know you. Spare their fields. Give them another day, month, year to hear your Name.

Tonight, all is dark and quiet. The storm has passed, moved southward on its destructive path. Only the light of day will show the result. Thousands will wake early and survey their future.
Let the rice stand, Lord - and stand in the gap for those whose food has fallen.

gifts

2008-05-01T09:57:00.001-04:00

16. The Scholar's comment: "I'm going to see if I'm needed in the kitchen."

17. BEAUTIFUL roses from dh. Just because.

18. Laughter over kitten's cherry-tomato soccer game.

19. Grandparents.

wonderful gifts . . .

2008-04-24T07:30:00.005-04:00

13. Freshly grated coconut - still on the tree this morning - ready to be toasted! What a glorious smell!

14. Feather pillows.

15. Air conditioners on the hottest day of the year so far.

His Gifts

2008-04-21T23:12:00.003-04:00

just keep on coming:

10. Morning sunlight streaming through the kitchen window.

11. The sounds of birds lifting their songs of praise at 5 am.

12. Little girls' pigtails!

Romans 2:4

2008-04-21T22:46:00.002-04:00

Or do you show contempt for the riches of his kindness, tolerance and patience, not realizing that God's kindness leads you toward repentance?

May it never be that I take lightly or with contempt His overwhelming mercy towards me.

the list continues . .

2008-04-19T11:28:00.004-04:00

5. Princess Grace asleep with her no-longer-lost favorite toy.

6. Books that encourage.

7. A "Mommy's day off".

8. Husband's kindness to give it.

9. Sermon podcasts.

Thankfulness . . .

2008-04-17T07:56:00.006-04:00

1. Fresh pickles!

2. A new kitten to replace one gone.

3. Wonder Boy giggles (while baby kitten tickles his tummy).

4. Waffles prepared and served in our room! By the children!

One Thousand Gifts

2008-04-11T23:59:00.003-04:00

I have been reading with care the beautiful listing of 1000 gifts, now continuing as endless gifts, that Ann V. of A Holy Experience has been sharing. As my own life seems many days short on gratitude and long on negativity, I feel led to begin my own listing. How long it will take, or where it will lead, I cannot say. But God is in the beginning, so I will trust him for the doing.

Careful Washing

2008-04-11T10:10:00.002-04:00

The afternoon sunlight, growing hotter each day, streams through the window over the sink. The pile of plates and cups is not large, but demands attention. Inattention brings ants.

One by one, soil removed, the stack shifts from right to left: hot water and soap and hands doing their work. Time passes. The water cools. Soapy bubbles disappear. But one plastic box, greasy from Monday's vegetable curry leftovers, awaits. No lukewarm water nor tired suds will be enough.

I add a bit of soap to the sponge, coax some hot water from the faucet, and scrub the offending box. Careful attention to the corners, the edges: wherever the yellow grease wants to cling. That is what it takes to clean a greasy plastic box: soap, hot water, and attention to the details.

Where are the dirty corners in my life: the ones needing extra attention? I know they are there. The ones that I'd rather stuff under the sink or hide deep in my heart. But He longs to give them extra attention, to flood the dirty corners with the hot water of his truth, to cleanse them with the detergent of his Word.

May I let you attend to the greasy boxes of my life.

Just a Thought

2008-03-07T05:07:00.005-05:00

I think this is one of the most agonizing lines in all of hymnody, modern or traditional:

It was my sin that held Him there,
until it was accomplished.

From "How Deep the Father's Love for Us" by Stuart Townend. Listen here.

Of giving

2008-02-29T11:19:00.004-05:00

One of the strange challenges we face in living in a developing country is what to do with the "stuff" we no longer need. Like any westerner living here, we have an embarrassingly large amount of stuff. And those around us are unbelievably devoid of stuff. They own only one or 2 pieces of clothing. They have no table, no chairs, often not even enough food. Toys are unheard of.

So, it seems, the problem should be easily solved. Simply give our excess (outgrown clothes and toys, for example) to those around us. But the HOW of that is the complicated part.

The area our work covers is home to 7 million people. Probably 75% of them are as poor as I described, or nearly so. So what do we do? Were we to simply walk down the street and hand things out, we would be instantly mobbed. (Actually, that happens whenever we walk down the street). Do we ask local colleagues to get the word out that we have kids clothes available? Then we will have a line stretching from our door for miles. To date, we have tried several approaches, none of them wholly satisfactory.

There is no clearinghouse, such as the Salvation Army or Goodwill with donation boxes strategically placed around the town.

One thing I have been doing is to give clothes to mothers who come to the door asking. Usually the wives of patients in our hospital, several come once or twice a year. Sometimes I will also give them a toy or two. Does this kind of handout really help?

But (thankfully) the numbers for this are low, and the pile of remaining goods stays large. I hate storing (and possibly having things rot while in storage) piles of outgrown clothes, so I have given things to some of the manual laborers we know for them to distribute in their villages. Do they do this or do they sell the clothes and keep the profit? I will never know. Does it really matter anyhow?

One of the regular ladies came to my door last week. I always try to chat a bit with the children, though they usually are pretty frightened of me. While she waited in a chair on the veranda (kept there for unexpected visitors),I pulled out a few girl's outfits (from a bag ready to go to a village) for her daughter. Grabbed 2 shirts - almost outgrown - from Wonder Boy's drawer, and scrounged up a pair of sandals for his bare feet. She asked me for another toy. As we have just returned and most of the toys are still in a box somewhere, I said no. She left without a pleasant word or farewell. I felt a bit like she had come to my house to "go shopping".

I don't need to be thanked, but I also don't like to feel used. Yet I find myself frustrated by my own annoyance at her when I hear the echo of God's voice in Isaiah 53:

But he was pierced for our transgressions,
he was crushed for our iniquities;

and

because he poured out his life unto death,
and was numbered with the transgressors. (NIV)

Of what consequence is my comfort when he gave all for me?

And then tonight, this reminder from Isaiah 58:

Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
to loose the chains of injustice
and untie the cords of the yoke,
to set the oppressed free
and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry
and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter--
when you see the naked, to clothe him,
and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?

It often isn't easy to be "rich" is so poor a place. But it gives me an opportunity to worship God through serving those who come to my door or live in the local villages. May I do so with joy through the grace He gives.

On His Birthday . . .

2008-02-25T08:40:00.002-05:00

To My Dear and Loving Husband

If ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee;
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me ye women if you can.
I prize thy love more then whole mines of gold,
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee, give recompence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay,
The heavens reward thee manifold I pray.
Then while we live, in love let's so persevere,
That when we live no more, we may live ever.

Anne Bradstreet

Blessings on you today, dearest, while we are apart.

At Last

2008-02-25T05:43:00.002-05:00

A beautiful poem I ran across today about love come late in life:

At Last

At last, when all the summer shine
That warmed life's early hours is past,
Your loving fingers seek for mine
And hold them close—at last—at last!
Not oft the robin comes to build
Its nest upon the leafless bough
By autumn robbed, by winter chilled,—
But you, dear heart, you love me now.

Though there are shadows on my brow
And furrows on my cheek, in truth,—
The marks where Time's remorseless plough
Broke up the blooming sward of Youth,—
Though fled is every girlish grace
Might win or hold a lover's vow,
Despite my sad and faded face,
And darkened heart, you love me now!

I count no more my wasted tears;
They left no echo of their fall;
I mourn no more my lonesome years;
This blessed hour atones for all.
I fear not all that Time or Fate
May bring to burden heart or brow,—
Strong in the love that came so late,
Our souls shall keep it always now!

Elizabeth Akers Allen

Returning again

2008-02-19T05:09:00.011-05:00

It continues to amaze me how time can fly. How is it possible that our 3 month "home leave" is over and we are back "home" in our host country? Where did the time go? Well, I do know that for me, most of the month of January went to coughing. Nasty bugs you have over there in America. I had better stay here where we only have bird flu, fillaria, malaria, dengue fever, leprosy, tuberculosis, cholera, dysentery, Japanese encephalitis ...

While looking for a basic broccoli soup recipe today, I ran across this. WHY would you want to do this??? As if finding interesting recipes is not time consuming enough?

We are now 2 days into our new year of homeschooling. Everyone is doing very well, especially considering the circumstances:

This is the living room, which was being sanded to remove some of the chalk that had been applied to the walls to prepare them for painting. No, I don't understand that either. And, my camera lens was not dirty. The dirt you see was the chalk dust floating in the air.

Welcome to the bedroom. Yes, the living room furniture has invaded the bedroom. And it seems the mattress has taken wing - perhaps looking for a less dusty abode.

And the playroom/family room has taken on the role of storage chamber. Hmmm, the mattress landed here. I'm not sure the its new home is any less dusty. The computer desk seems to be holding everything except the computer.

The porch. We have to walk through here to get to the kid's room, the school room, and the laundry. 'Nuff said.

Ahhh! We have arrived in the school room. The scene above is the result of telling the kids to "Carry these things upstairs and stack them neatly in a corner."

And the school table. In our absence, it became home to the pictures that should have been hanging on the walls. I have managed to carve out a space for my coffee mug, though. Always take care of the important things first!

And finally, will someone please tell me why our closet is now in the school-room???

On the up side, 3 of our 7 boxes of books arrived today. Receiving books is always cause for celebration! Praying for the other 4 boxes to make it through. Will keep you posted.

Another month

2007-12-02T15:15:00.001-05:00

. . . has passed since I last posted. Many times I have had ideas, observations, thoughts that I wanted to write, but have found myself too busy, or too tired, or too sick, or too something! But today brought blessings too wonderful NOT to write about!

Of course, today is Sunday. That alone is a blessing. A day to rest, a day to worship. For me, it was extra special, as it was my first opportunity to attend our home church since we came back to the US. The rest of the family went last week, while I nursed a nasty sinus infection in bed.

But the most amazing part of today, so far, has been the surprise we woke up to: SNOW!!! Of our 3 children, only The Scholar has even seen snow, and he was only 1 at the time. The 4-5 inches we got was enough to scuff around in, shovel (what joy!) and even sled on. We enjoyed racing down the hill, sometimes more gracefully than others, and landing in the soft snow at the end of the run. We watched our children's wonder as they observed how the snow fell and balanced in strange ways. We laughed with them at the feel of snow, its taste, and the way it chilled them when it worked its way in around their cuffs.I nearly cried over Princess Grace's reaction to the first snow she has ever seen. When I asked what she thought of the snow, she just hugged my leg, rested her head on me, and smiled: too enraptured for words.

What (on earth) could be better than this?

Of Writing and Reading Blogs

2007-11-02T07:41:00.001-04:00

While we have been traveling, I found myself unable to post. Sometimes, the internet was just too hard to access. At other times my thoughts were too hard to access. For me, posting is an emotional, even cathartic process. My depression and anxiety, and the medication I take for them, leave my emotions blunted, my true feelings masked. Digging into my thoughts takes time and effort: which travel and chaos tend to prevent. Sometimes, I mourn the loss of my feelings. But I have to remember that I have exchanged them for functioning: for being able to talk to my children without yelling, snapping, or crying in frustration; for being able to get through a day without a 2-hour nap; for being able to be with my loved ones, rather than escaping from them. With this comes a capacity for seeing blessings and feeling joy that previously was lost.

While I have been unable to write on my blogs, I have been able to read other's blogs. Over and over I have been challenged, encouraged, blessed by the thoughts and reflections of others. And for this, I thank you. To Ann V. of Holy Experience, thank you for challenging me to see God where he IS, rather than where I would like to keep him boxed. In one post you have given me weeks worth of stuff to contemplate. Slow down ;-) ! To myfriendConnie at smockity frocks may God bless you for blessing me with things of beauty and practicality. You have reminded me that life in my ugly concrete house mission house need not be ugly. To the whole team at The Common Room, thank you for the ongoing view into what life in a homeschooling family can look like. It keeps me going when homeschool days grow weary. And to Amy at Amy's Humble Musings thank you for great links that have kept this news-thirsty expatriate informed about life and politics in the US. I have been challenged and taught on so many levels. And to the many other blog writers I have read and enjoyed, thank you.

Around the world

2007-11-02T07:32:00.001-04:00

It has been a month since I posted. A crazy, travel filled, stress-laden month. A last-minute trip to a neighboring Asian country, continued on to another country. A quick return home to pack up and move out of half of our home. Then the final, big journey, halfway around the world, across 14 time zones, to our "home country" for 3 months of leave.

What a month. We traveled on 2 trains, 6 airplanes, countless taxis and occasional subways. Not to mention 30 + hours in the car. Our children have slept in no fewer than 10 places in the past month, not counting airplanes.

In all of this time, we have visited one emergency room, 2 Sunday Schools, and 3 hotels. We have already enjoyed time with 4 grandparents since arriving in the US. God is good. We are together. And we are rejoicing!

Of Bugs and Bats

2007-09-25T10:59:00.000-04:00

Perhaps this isn't the most spiritual topic, but I needed some distraction today anyhow. Last week, every evening's peace was broken by ~~my wild children~~ an unbelievable loud squealing noise from outside. I am not talking about the rickshaw-mounted sound systems that roam the villages all night, advertising a movie or promoting some politician or spreading health awareness messages. This was a squeal of more natural origins. It was a bug, or rather, LOTS of bugs, making this loud, sustained noise. It was literally loud enough and of such a frequency that it hurt my ears. If I had to guess, I would say it was cicadas, though I have never been much at insect identification. Insect AVOIDANCE, now there is something I can talk intelligently about!

I am only guessing about cicadas, but I did find this great website from the ABC of Oz (that is the Australian Broadcasting Company) with this photo of a cicada that certainly looks like the giant bugs I flick off our screens from time to time. I was not surprised by the volume of these big bugs - up to 120 dB! I have felt the pain!

Well, the noise of last week has been replaced by a noise that, if possible, is even louder. We have a large tree in our yard that I'm told is a rubber tree. This is not your average, US indoor potted ficus, however. This is a REAL ficus elasticus - in the wild - no wait, if it were truly in the wild, it would be inside my house, not in the garden. Ok, not in the wild, but outside in the sub-tropics, where it has room to thrive. It has 7 primary trunks growing from a central base and an above ground root structure that looks like a floor covered with snakes. Should a real snake gets in there it would be pretty tough to see!

Around this time of year, that giant tree flowers and grows fruit, which attracts the animal causing my head to ache today: the Indian Flying Fox. For those of you that don't instantly see the difficulty in that name, I will give you the alternate name: Giant Fruit Bat.

The Indian Flying Fox is the second largest bat species in the world, according to my 5 minutes of internet research at slower than dial-up speeds. Their wing span is around 4 feet - roughly the size of my 7-year-old. I told him he could lay down and use a bat for a blanket. He didn't go for that. Hmm . . . do you think that will give him nightmares?

So, from dusk until 9 pm, we have a continuous screaming ~~contest~~ concert in our front yard. After dark until morning - well, I don't know when they stop because I have this thing about sleeping at night. But before the sleep, you literally have to shout to make yourself heard over the din if you are on our porch.

There are a variety of bats in South Asia. My in-laws had tiny bats living in their ceiling vents when they lived nearby. When we are in the capital we see a medium size bat quite often at dusk. But none seem to be as loud or as active as our colony of flying foxes.

A few interesting tidbits: Indian Flying Fox bats are sacred in parts of India. In Pakistan, the fat from some bats is used for medicine. Some bat species are under threat from humans - who kill them for food (YUCK!). Bats do sometimes carry rabies, and have recently been implicated in SAARS. At least one of the common names for our bat neighbors here translates into some kind of snake. They are kind of creepy, so maybe it is a good name.

Adding to the ruckus is the rain-like drumming of their discarded fruit seeds on our tin roof. Don't you wish you lived here?

A Birthday Dinner

2007-09-22T08:12:00.000-04:00

Today I have been cooking. In our house, the birthday dinner menu is generally the choice of the Birthday boy (or girl). Of course, living here, I sometimes have to make adjustments based on what I have on hand or have access to. For instance, vegetables just aren't available right now. For the children this would not be much of an issue, but some of us like vegetables.

Today's menu was based on a more practical theme, however. In less than 4 weeks, we leave for 4 months in the US. So, after an inventory of my freezer and pantry, I planned every meal between now and when we go, with the hope of leaving a minimum of food items in storage here.

Tonight's birthday menu has come together beautifully:

A small pork roast with a cranberry-orange sauce.
Potatoes Au Gratin
Broccoli & Cauliflower - steamed
Apple & Craisin compote

Dessert:
Pineapple cream cheese coffee cake
Homemade vanilla ice cream with toffee bits and mini chocolate chips

The only things I would have liked in addition to the above would have been fresh dinner rolls, but I had to draw the line somewhere!

Now, what is interesting is how this meal came together. Based on my menu calendar, I had chosen the pork roast for today. I noticed a tin of jellied cranberry sauce (left over from last Thanksgiving) while rooting in the pantry the other day for a can of tuna. So, off to the internet to find a recipe that combined these 2 items. Voila! Oh, except I did not have cranberry juice, so I substituted orange juice, freshly squeezed from the Malta oranges that became available last week.

Next came the side dishes. I was hoping for noodles because I LOVE egg noodles with pork. But, making homemade noodles was too much to do today. So, on to plan "B" - potatoes. I dug out bits of 3 different cheeses from the depths of the fridge, all rather desperate to be cooked with, so Au Gratin was the logical choice. Vegetable was easy. Either it came from the freezer or there was not going to be any vegetable. I am out of canned veggies except 1 can of peas that is earmarked for a tuna noodle casserole later this month. The freezer yielded some broccoli & cauliflower. Finally, we just bought apples again for the first time since I can't remember when. Sadly, they were too mushy to be nice to eat. So, they had to be cooked. Add in an open packet of dried cranberries (Craisins), some sugar and cinnamon, and the extra orange juice, and we have a nice compote.

Dessert was even more interesting. A can of local pineapple needed to be used. Cans are notoriously poor around here, so it definitely wouldn't last too long. And then, there was the cheese. Yesterday, DH tried to make ice cream. But when he heated the milk with the sugar in it, it curdled, indicating that the milk was no longer as fresh as it had once been. Our milk is delivered to the door every day, still warm and usually with cow hair floating in it. We boil it and refrigerate it, but it does not keep too long. I couldn't see wasting all of that milk and sugar, so I drained it through cheese cloth and had a wonderful, pre-sweetened soft cheese. The need to use this up before it spoiled pushed me to look for a recipe that would use both the pineapple and the cheese. In the end I chose a recipe that I made once before. Of course, that meant some substitutions also. Sour milk for sour cream, pineapple for apples, my cheese for cream cheese etc. By the way, the ice cream turned out wonderfully on the second try: fresher milk.

And whose birthday was it that was celebrated in this interesting way?

Mine!

Good thing I like to cook!

What a week . . .

2007-09-22T08:04:00.000-04:00

It has been a long week. And not a particularly good one. Some difficulties with our work here have been emotionally and spiritually draining. The result is that we are physically drained as well. So, posting has been on the back burner. But today is a bit better. Praise God!

Just a Thought

2007-09-16T21:43:00.001-04:00

From Streams in the Desert Volume 1 for September 17:

Nothing else but seeing God in everything will make us loving and patient with those who annoy and trouble us. They will be to us then only instruments for accomplishing his tender and wise purposes toward us, and we shall even find ourselves at last inwardly thanking them for the blessings they bring us. Nothing else will completely put an end to all murmuring or rebelling thoughts. -- H. W. Smith

On Songs of Praise

2007-09-15T21:44:00.000-04:00

For years the debate has raged: Hymns or Praise Choruses? Thankfully, many churches have found a balance, worshiping God in a variety of ways that a variety of people can relate to. I am also grateful for the reality checks that have come from various places reminding us that worship is about God, not about musical style, yet I recognize that some people simply find it easier to worship through a particular style.

Mrs. Wilt at The Sparrow's Nest posted a wonderful tongue in cheek look at hymns and praise choruses here.

There is some truth inside the joke, however. Praise choruses do tend to be repetitive. Hymns, at least the older ones, do tend to use more archaic, poetic language. But I believe that there is value in both for several reasons.

First, many hymns contain an amazing depth of spiritual truth and insight. I personally have found great encouragement from hymns such as I Take Thy Promise, Lord; When I Survey; Holy, Holy, Holy; Be Still My Soul; Hiding in Thee; and Great is Thy Faithfulness. There is a richness in these and many other hymns that pulls my heart and mind toward God as I sing them or meditate on their words.

At the same time, I love to sing praise choruses. Many of them highlight the intimacy that we as believers can have with Christ. They remind us that we can come before Him with our praises and our needs. I also have noticed that in the past 5-10 years many songwriters have recognized the danger of worship time becoming entertainment time. More and more new songs have become modern hymns, incorporating the best of hymn-like theology with more modern tunes and arrangements. We Fall Down, Indescribable, and Ancient Words are good examples.

Thinking again about how we teach our children about worship,I find both types of songs to be helpful. We are currently learning the hymn When I Survey as a family. We talk through the lyrics and what they mean and how they teach us about Jesus. Where there are references to specific Bible passages, we may look them up. Then we practice the hymn. I am trying to keep it in my head so that I can hum or sing it at odd times. Hopefully that will help it stick better in everyone's minds. To me, this is both an academic exercise and a way to help us worship with our minds.

With praise choruses, I tend to sing along as they play on the CD player. I want my children to see me worship from my heart.

Nothing I've written is particularly ground-breaking, but I hope that my love of all kinds of worship music will help my children to see that worship needs to involve the head and the heart.

A cup of beauty

2007-09-09T22:08:00.000-04:00

Yesterday, I wanted a cup of tea in the afternoon. I reached for the usual, unattractive, "found it somewhere" mug, then stopped and chose this instead:

This lovely cup, complete with a cover to keep my tea hot, was a gift from a dear friend. Just using something pretty, instead of something simply utilitarian, made me smile. Sometimes the little choices make a big difference.

Common Sense

2007-09-09T05:45:00.001-04:00

I have just started reading Common Sense Christian Living by Edith Schaeffer. So far, it is an excellent book. Here is what I am mulling over from this book today:

There is a blur around us, a mixture that confuses us. We need to care about not just muddling on and trying to live in separate compartments. We need to strive for wholeness in a practical way, hour by hour and day by day, that there might be the reality that is meant to be in me and in you.

I think that is something I struggle with. It is easier - or perhaps just habit - to compartmentalize life into work, family, church, worship, etc. But the reality is that life is not made up of little boxes, neatly defined. Cleaning up a child's "accident" is just as holy a work as praising God in song. Easier to say than to live out, however.

Blogging

2007-09-09T05:39:00.000-04:00

I don't think I have the capacity to become a daily blogger. I write when I have something to say. So, for the past few days when we were away, then traveling home, then unpacking, etc., I had nothing much to write. I think that reflects the fact that I had little time to think. When we are in the big city, I am too busy trying to find places in a tiny room to hand 5 people's wet laundry to ponder the greater questions of the universe. Taking the kids swimming takes precedence over contemplation, and this trip, sore throats and runny noses took over any spare minutes I had.

So, no posts for 4 days. Until today, when you get TWO!

Among the Chaos

2007-09-05T04:59:00.000-04:00

I am sitting at the too-high desk in the not-very-clean guest house, making corrections to a project proposal document for Bob. Around me are several stacks of DVDs awaiting checking for quality; half-a-dozen books I have picked up that I would like to read; 5 varied plastic cups and a pitcher of lukewarm water; laundry in various stages of dirty, clean, wet, wrinkled; a roll of toilet paper doubling as Kleenex; an empty diet Pepsi bottle (thanks, Bob); piles of schoolbooks - some open, some closed, some currently being written in; crayons everywhere; a pile of phonics flashcards strewn on the floor; various shopping bags containing groceries, books, and winter clothes; at least 7 pairs of shoes; suitcases and backpacks of various sizes and descriptions; countless matchbox cars; an open packet of laundry soap; and 3 children in various stages of falling off the bed where they are supposed to be working on schoolwork. All of this in a room that is no bigger than 10 x 12.

Isn't life beautiful?

Beautiful Things

2007-09-02T10:54:00.000-04:00

An amazing pink and purple sunset, glimpsed between buildings and buses in an otherwise ugly city.

Kisses from the sweetest daughter on earth.

A husband who showers his wife with love.

Praise the Savior!

Packing

2007-08-30T10:55:00.000-04:00

What is it about packing for a trip that I find so draining? I have never enjoyed travel, which explains why God has placed us on the other side of the globe from our home country. ;-)

Today, I have been packing for a week in our host country's capital. Packing for 5 for a week is a practical challenge - just finding enough t-shirts for the kids that aren't (very) stained can take quite a while. This time, packing means gathering the basics of our homeschool as we can't afford a whole week off right now. It is also challenging because the trip takes 7-8 hours, so we must plan to keep children busy while in the van. Otherwise, boredom grows to petty fighting. Snacks are a big part of that plan.

No matter how easy or difficult the logistics, however, packing unnerves me. I find myself fatigued, grumpy, and worried. The sad part is that I probably could pack much more quickly and forget less if I was not fatigued, grumpy, and worried.

So, the question is, WHY?

I think some, maybe even most, of it stems from my need to be in control. I like things I can control. It is the unknown that I don't like. Piling into a van for an 8 hour trip with 3 kids in a country where toilets are - well - different, is still unpredictable, even after more than 6 years of doing it. Flat tires or other car trouble can lead to hours in a muddy field that doubles as a repair shop, surrounded by hundreds of onlookers, all craning their necks for a peek at the "foreigners." Even slow traffic inevitably leads to excess gawking. I don't tend to savor this process: endurance is all I'm striving for.

So where does that leave me. We are overseas for the foreseeable future, and these trips will always be a necessity. So I must learn to handle this differently. I must find a way to do more than merely survive, be it the trip, or any given day. Is it possible to find grace, even joy in things that in and of myself, I despise? Lord God, give me grace to travel, tomorrow, and always.

Grace in the Moment

2007-08-28T12:06:00.000-04:00

Today, I've been noticing hair. I cut all the hair in our family that gets cut. Princess Grace is still awaiting her first trim, and my husband trims the split ends off my hair once or twice a year. But Bob and the boys all visit Sheri's Hair Salon - a.k.a. a chair, scissors and a trimmer in the living room with the carpet rolled back. Pop in a video for the littles and we are on our way.

Since before we were married, I have cut my husband's hair. At first, it was with great trepidation as I did not come from a home-hair cutting family. But after many years, it is routine. While the boys are squirmier, even cutting their hair is no problem these days.

But today, I was looking at Scholar's recently trimmed head and it reminded me that I needed to give the younger son the same attention: Boy Wonder had been busy playing and his golden locks were sweaty and looking wild. A glance at my husband told me that he is only about a week away from another session in the "itchy chair."

Suddenly, in the midst of my practicality, God broke in. The haircut status monitor faded away as I looked, really looked at the beautiful heads that God has placed in my life to care for. Such a small thing - to cut hair for my family - yet how significant that I have them to minister to in this simple way. And how grateful I am for the privilege.

One of the things that is most difficult for me is finding the grace in each moment. The moments whirl away like dust in a wind, but the beauty, the blessing is still there. I just have to stop being practical long enough to see it.

Busyness

2007-08-25T14:32:00.000-04:00

It is amazing to me how busy life can get sometimes. I worked full time outside the house last week. That is more than rare for me lately. It was an interesting, exhausting week. So Friday came (our Sunday) and I rested, spent time with the family, had church, and so on. Today was spent catching up on clutter and getting organized for the next week of home school. How, in a whole week I wasn't able to blog once is beyond me. Well, I guess having a terrible internet connection for the week also contributed.

Sometimes I look back and wonder where the 13 years since my wedding have gone. How is my oldest nearly 8? How is my baby 3 already? I know that we all feel that way at times, but it seems stronger to me this time. Like busyness itself is a disease that keeps us from living our lives in a meaningful way.

We have some friends who married (each other) in midlife. It was the first marriage for both or them. They have a different life from ours - no children - and they have a few more years of experience on us. What I find interesting, though, is that though they are astonishingly busy, they live life deliberately. They make choices about family, friends, even about their home decor that show that they are living their lives deliberately - and not for selfish reasons, but for the glory of God.

I usually feel as if I'm standing in the middle of a tornado and everything is whirling around me. I am not sure how to make conscious choices that model Christ when I find it difficult to have time to rub two thoughts together. Yet, this is the role God has given me. So His answers must be available. I just have to keep looking, and that is a large part of what my blogging is about.

Sherilyn

Kids & Worship

2007-08-19T08:12:00.000-04:00

In thinking about the idea of authentic worship of God - worship that is our very best - I looked up the words translated as "worship" in Greek & Hebrew to remind myself of the complete meaning. The word worship contains the idea of reverence, but it indicates a voluntary submission. One who worships is ministering to God, and is choosing to perform the "acts of worship". One of the most common words in the New Testament indicates that worship involves prostrating oneself, literally or figuratively before God.

I think we who are parents have to work hard to maintain a balance for our children. We want, rightly, to teach them that Jesus is their friend and brother. We need to model an authentic relationship with God before our children. Yet, at the same time, we must instill in them a sense of awe of God. It seems quite a challenge to me to come boldly before the throne of God, yet do so in humility. But as I sit here puzzling this over, I am aware of a growing sense of wonder at the greatness of our God - how He can be both Creator and Friend, Holy and still Father. Wow!

Sherilyn

Worshipping truly

2007-08-17T10:07:00.001-04:00

Every week, we listen to a taped church service from back home. This is where we are challenged and encouraged. Today's topic was worship. Drawn from Malachi, the pastor looked at how the Jewish people of the day were offering God less than their very best. He challenged us to think about what we offer when we come to worship. I have to confess that it is often far less than my best. Our time of worship is odd, being at home with no congregation nor "live" pastor, and with the kids sitting in (and often needing to be corrected - they're still small). But I don't think the circumstances excuse us from worshiping with all of our hearts. At the end, dh asked what I thought of our worship. I told him that I thought it was pretty poor. He then asked what it should look like - what we need to change. I did not have an answer for him.

So, this is the question I'm pondering tonight. What should authentic worship look like - for myself personally, and for my family when we worship together? I'll be writing about what I discover in the days to come.

A little more about me . . .

2007-08-16T07:20:00.000-04:00

The primary motivation for my beginning this blog was to provide a place for me to mull over the things that come up in life. I am not nearly reflective enough. In fact, lately, I find that I have to actively work to not just float along, never thinking about anything more than is absolutely necessary. For anyone who may run across these thoughts, however, it may be helpful for you to know a little about me. Nearly 5 years ago, I was diagnosed with major depression. Medication has made all the difference, but I am still on it. My family and I live in Asia, though we are from the US. We came in 2001 with our oldest child, and 2 other children have been born here. My dh's work has led us to live in a very rural part of this country, and we are quite isolated from other foreigners. Only 1 other foreign family lives here with us. The culture here is such that I rarely go out. Someone else does the shopping, so I rarely even get to the nearby town. Our major forays are to the larger city, an all-day drive one-way. These trips have become increasingly rare as the children have started homeschool. Interestingly, my personality allows me to live like this. I don't need a great number of friends or social outlets. Others who have lived of visited here have labeled it "a prison". I am sometime insecure about why God has put us in this place. But He has, and so, we remain until He tells us to move on. I pray that I may thrive here, not merely survive.

Beginnings

2007-08-16T04:31:00.001-04:00

As I begin this new effort - blogging - I am only beginning to be aware of the huge world that blogs have become. When I left the US more than 6 years ago, I had never heard of them. Now, it seems, everybody has one. I wonder if there is that much to say. I think, however, that no matter how uninteresting it may seem, there is wonder and adventure in even the most mundane of things.

There was never yet an uninteresting life. Such a thing is an impossibility. Inside of the dullest exterior there is a drama, a comedy and a tragedy. Mark Twain

Only God knows if anything I write here will be interesting or helpful to anyone else. But I have determined to do it as a way of recording the happenings of my life, whether it be spiritual issues, family, homeschooling, living overseas, or whatever. Perhaps the process will help me grow. That is my prayer.