Thursday, March 29, 2012

17 Birthday Blessings for Our Ink Slinger

My maternal sentimental instincts would like to post some of the cutest baby pictures ever of Ink, but I know he wouldn't think that was one of my coolest ideas.

Instead, we'll have to be happy with this one.


When I look at this young man of ours, all I can think of is God's grace. It covers the pages of every day of his life. He's a testimony to the truth that godly children are the works of God's hands. God gets every ounce of the glory.

Are there any better birthday wishes than birthday blessings?

1) May you love the LORD your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength all the days of your life. May you always love your neighbor as yourself. (Luke 10:27)

2) May the LORD continually be your strong habitation, the One you run to at all times. (Psalm 71:3) May you remember that your afflictions are achieving for you an eternal glory that outweighs them all. (2 Cor. 4:17)

3) May the LORD be your sun and shield and give you grace and glory. May He bless you with every good thing as you walk in His ways. (Psalm 84:11,12)

4) May you remember the preciousness of time and redeem every moment for His glory. (Eph. 5:16)

5) May your conception of God never be grounded in lustful desires or fleshly ambition, but always in the truth of God's Word. (Willliam Gurnall)

6) May you always be fat-souled, continually praising the LORD with joyful lips.  (Psalm 63:5)

7) May the LORD establish the work of your hands, and may you always use your gifts for His glory. (Psalm 90:17)

8) May you know the joy of a godly wife and many olive plants around your table. May you lead your family with wisdom and righteousness. (Psalm 128:3, Proverbs 31)

9) May the LORD draw upon your soul the lineaments of Christ, in every trace and feature. (Valley of Vision)

10) May you never cease to be a letter written with the pen of the Holy Spirit. (Valley of Vision)

11) May you never walk in a spirit of fear, but with power and love and a sound mind. (2 Tim. 1:7)

12) May you be a man given to much prayer and time in the Word. May His Words be sweeter than honey to you, and may you always hunger deeply for them. (James 5:16, Psalm 119:103)

13) May you walk worthy of the Lord unto all pleasing, being fruitful in every good work and increasing in the knowledge of God. (Colossians 1:10)

14) May you always love others with a self-denying, self-sacrificing love that reflects your Savior, Jesus Christ. (1 Cor. 13)

15) May your heart be infused with a deep awareness of your sin. May you never forget you are saved by grace and nothing of yourself. May you always be quick to repent and seek forgiveness from Christ Jesus and those you have offended. (Rom. 3:23, Eph. 2:8, Eph. 4:32)

16) May you see yourself as nothing and God as everything. May your heart seek the LORD with intensity and long with vehement thirst to live for Him. (Valley of Vision)

17) May Psalm 103 be the song of all your days.

Happy Birthday, dear Son! We love you and praise God for you!

Love,
Mommy and Daddy

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

More Sinister Than The Hunger Games

I write this post with a bit of a handicap. I haven't read The Hunger Games trilogy. I haven't seen the movies. But I knew the controversies would stir over this one. Many Christians whom we respect completely disagree with the assertion that there's ANY value in reading this series.

But, my son Ink, thought there was.

The point of my post isn't to defend or criticize The Hunger Games. There are plenty of other places to do that, so please don't miss what I'm saying because of your opinion about the books or movies.

When our children are little, we shield them from much of the ugliness, the sin of this world. It's our job not to let a 7 year old view content meant for a 17 year old. We ground them in the truth of the Word and the seeds of discernment grow ever so slowly. We can't preview every exposure, every book, every movie, every conversation they overhear. The goal is to equip them to stand fast and stay faithful, long after we're six feet under and unable to whisper cautions in their ears.

In our home, you'll find the Hunger Games trilogy on the shelf, but you won't find Harry Potter. I'll tell you we loved Saving Private Ryan, but can't stand Fiddler on the Roof or Secretariat and think they're much more dangerous than the gritty truth of the battlefield. My 11 year old daughter still hasn't seen Pride and Prejudice and won't for some time. Sometimes we, especially as Christians, cling to a pretty outside and completely ignore the heart of the matter. Are our children doing the same? Are they thinking they're "safe" because a book or movie they watch doesn't have language or violence, thus, it must be acceptable?

And how equipped are they to speak themselves what they believe?

I read a reply my Ink wrote to a concerned mother yesterday regarding the Hunger Games. Here it is in part:


For one thing, the books are remarkably well-written *and* thought-provoking. To my mind, they prove that YA fiction doesn't have to be dominated by wizards-in-training and love-struck vampires. On the one hand, they tell a gripping story; but underneath the story are a lot of ideas worth thinking about. In many ways, the books are a critique of big government (President Snow, the Capitol) and voyeuristic culture (the Hunger Games). Suzanne Collins' essentially imagines a future where our lust for entertainment trumps all moral and ethical boundaries, just like in the Roman games of old. It reminds me of Russell Crowe's line in "Gladiator" (2000), when he shouts to the crowd, "Are you not entertained?"

There are tons of other themes worth considering, too: lost innocence, the exploitation of children, abuse of power, self-sacrifice, and more. I also find it interesting how people recoil in horror at the thought on slaughtering children in an arena... and then have no qualms whatsoever about slaughtering them in the womb. This connection isn't directly made by Collins, but it's so plain it's hard to miss.

Now, here comes the caveat... I wouldn't hand "The Hunger Games" to just anyone. I guess I somewhat agree with Berit's assessment, and so yes, discernment is a big part of whether or not the books should be read. My age recommendation would probably be 15+. The first book is pretty grim and violent, and so is the second one. The third book is my favorite because I think it's the richest... but it's also the darkest and the most violent.

It troubles me that the books are marketed to 12 and 13-year-olds. Why? Because I think most of them read the books, get an adrenaline-high off the intensity of the Games, and totally gloss over the deeper themes. And when that happens, I fear they're desensitizing themselves to the very thing Collins in trying to sensitize them to.

Whether you agree with what he wrote, you have to agree he knows what he thinks about the books and why. That's not something I learned to articulate very well as I was growing up, and it's still something I struggle with today. I have a book review I've been wanting to write for months, BUT it's against a book that's endorsed by very wise godly men. Who am I to disagree? And, yet, I do. 

We're instructed in Scripture to have a teachable spirit, so I'm not equating knowing what you believe with the arrogance that says, "I have nothing to learn," but rather the firmness that says, "I heard what you've said. I've measured it by the Word. I've considered your concerns, and my position still stands because....." 

If what we teach our children is simply a parroting of what we hear from our favorite family-friendly organizations and not from the conviction of our hearts (which should be based on the Word) because we've studied the matter, then we offer our children a foundation that will quickly crumble. Opinions we form based solely on the opinions of others and not because we've learned to think through the matter for ourselves quickly collapse under the least bit of pressure.

This is one of the reasons good Christian children walk away from their faith when they walk out the door to be on their own. They've never learned to think through a matter for themselves, digging in the Word and owning what they believe. They've never had to struggle with, "What do I believe and WHY?" because Mommy and Daddy have never been quiet long enough to force the child to do so. They've never been taught that the most dangerous worldviews are often wrapped in the prettiest, most alluring packages, sometimes with "Christian" pasted all over them and lovely horses running in the fields or people dancing on the rooftops.

To leave our own children handicapped in such a way is a sinister thing, even though done in the name of loving and protecting. And the consequences are far more dangerous than the latest movie or book that stirs up controversy and disagreement.

With love,
Trisha

Tuesday, March 27, 2012

Those People With the Perfect Lives


It's true. Comparison is the death of contentment. And when we do compare, we do so with an incomplete story. I long for the "this" in someone else's life, and she longs for the "that" in mine, but we both miss the big picture of it all. Only God knows the details.

We forget that joys come with troubles and abundance is mingled with emptiness. We're blind to the sleepless nights or the silent heartaches, the anxiety-ridden days, or the starving souls.

In all our looking at what God has given to someone else, we miss what He's given to us. It's a dignified way of shaking our fist at Him and His sovereign care over us.

God doesn't usually let us see deep into the "little worlds" of others. But our contentment level would only rise if we meditated on the fact that we're all bearing burdens, we're all going through the Refiner's fire, and the truth is, the only "perfect" life is the one God has ordained for us.

When Satan or our own flesh first plant the seeds of envy, we silence the lies with His truths. We pray instead of pout. We clothe ourselves in love and compassion, remembering we have no clue what burdens others battle every day. We meditate on His past kindnesses to us, the greatest being the life He gives us in Jesus Christ.
Discontentment and envy are snuffed out, and we're left praising God for the amazing panorama of providences we call our lives.

"Every man we meet, carries about with him, in the unperceived solitude of his bosom, a little world of his own--and we are just as blind, and as insensible, and as dull, both of perception and of sympathy, about his engrossing objects, as he is about ours; and, did we suffer this observation to have all its weight upon us, it might serve to make us more candid, and more considerate of others. It might serve to abate the monopolizing selfishness of our nature. It might serve to soften down all the malignity which comes out of those envious contemplations that we are so apt to cast on the fancied ease and prosperity which are around us. It might serve to reconcile every man to his own lot, and dispose him to bear, with thankfulness, his own burden; and if this train of sentiment were prosecuted with firmness, and calmness, and impartiality, it would lead to the conclusion, that each profession in life has its own peculiar pains, and its own besetting inconveniences--that, from the very bottom of society, up to the golden pinnacle which blazons upon its summit, there is much in the shape of care and of suffering to be found--that, throughout all the conceivable varieties of human condition, there are trials, which can neither be adequately told on the one side, nor fully understood on the other--that the ways of God to man are as equal in this, as in every department of His administration--and that, go to whatever quarter of human experience we may, we shall find that He has provided enough to exercise the patience, and to accomplish the purposes of a wise and salutary discipline upon all His children."
~Thomas Chalmers, 
1780-1847

With love,
Trisha

Monday, March 26, 2012

Sanctified Memories



"Bless the LORD, O my soul, and forget not all His benefits: Who forgiveth all thine iniquities; who healeth all thy diseases."
~Psalm103:2,3

Dear Son,
Can you believe it's already been two years ago today since God preserved your sight?
How little did we know that a silent but raging sinus infection was working its way to your eye socket.

Your symptoms turned so quickly, puzzling even the doctors. "It's just a little eye infection," they said.  And, I remember hearing your concerns about losing your eyesight. I actually chuckled inside, thinking your fears were just the workings of a very adventurous mind.

But not even 24 hours later, your Daddy was driving you to the hospital, and praise the Lord, the next day the surgeon was using her God-directed hands to save your eye.

What a week that was, and the transformation from a swollen-eyed, very sick little boy to an energetic lad craving tacos was a blessing. Your Daddy was with you that entire time, and you enjoyed movies together and sausage biscuits in between antibiotics, nose sprays, and needle sticks.

The world wants to forget the bad things, the trials, their suffering. But we belong to Jesus.  And we MUST remember. We must remember the trials and His deliverances.

These trials strengthen our faith, make us more like Christ, encourage other Pilgrims in the fire. Your suffering testifies to the GREATNESS of our God. There is none like Him. 

This is one more Ebenezer to add to the rock pile. When you were born, there was your stay in the intensive care unit. God healed you and brought you home quickly. Then, you sliced your finger with your brother's throwing knife, learning that curiosity is sometimes painful, while we were thanking God you didn't lose your finger.

One memory added to another. And they all become sanctified.   They're set apart from the others. They remind us how small we are and how great God is.  They shout of a faithful God to His unfaithful people. They become pillars of praise and thanksgiving. 

When you look in the mirror and see two healthy eyes staring back at you, remember first that you've been redeemed. God gave you eyes to see the truth of the Gospel. You're a sinner saved by grace. You were blind but now you see. 

When you look up at blue skies, or colorful legos in a bin, speckled lizards, or orange balloons, praise God for what He has done for you. Let the sights of the world around you remind you of God's mercy upon you!

When you think of past afflictions, remember that because sin entered the world, so did sickness. Then remember to praise God that He didn't leave us dead in our sins, but sent Jesus to die for us and pay our debt that we might glorify God and enjoy Him forever.

Don't waste these memories, but continually ask God to bless you with eyes that are ever searching out His mercies, storing them up in your heart and mind. Ask Him to make you a man known for remembering and praising and walking faithfully in His ways all the days of your life.
I  love you.

Love,
Mommy

Sunday, March 25, 2012

It Reads Love in the Darkest of Afflictions


"The hour of affliction is an hour of temptation. Satan loves to fish when the waters are troubled. He would bring us to hard thoughts of God, by the hard things we suffer from God; 'touch him, and he will curse thee to thy face.' In such stormy weather, some vessels are cast away. A corrupt heart in adversity, like water boiling over the fire, then most of all discovereth its froth and filth, Isa. 8:21.

But though frosty seasons are hurtful to weeds, yet they are helpful to good corn. A sanctified person, like a silver bell, the harder he is smitten, the better he soundeth. Faith is a special antidote against the poison of the wicked one. It can read love in the blackest characters of divine dispensation; as by a rainbow we see the beautiful image of the sun's light, in the midst of a dark and waterish cloud. God's rod, like Jonathan's, is dipped in honey. Our daily bread and our sharpest rod, grow upon the same root."
~George Swinnock
The Works, Vol. 3, p. 404

Thursday, March 22, 2012

The Super Men

It's my Beloved's birthday, today. Thus, it's most fitting to share again the blessing of being married to a super-man. Perhaps you have one, too. Let him know why he's so super, and remember to thank God for such a smiling providence.


****


My Superman.

No, he doesn't have a history of leaping over tall buildings or stopping trains with his bare hands.

But he has been known to travel miles for me. When we were dating, my Superman would drive through icy snow and pouring rains to be with me. In our early years of marriage, he'd drive miles for just a weekend stay so that I could visit my family. When my Dad was dying, my Superman drove to VA while I flew, left the next day for D.C., and then drove back a couple days later to take me home. Have I mentioned that he drives hours a day to and from work? And last August he flew to Salt Lake City to spend a bit of time with Michele and David AND to escort me home. Not only did we get home faster, but everything seemed ok just knowing he was at the wheel.

My Superman has comforted me through losing those precious babies we never got to see this side of heaven, and he's encouraged me when we were welcoming new blessings into this world. He's never made me eat hospital food after giving birth, always making runs to whatever eatery my heart desired. He's the one who would bring me endless saltines and apple juice, with extra ice, please, after I came alive from the medicine-induced nausea and fogginess that come with c-sections. He's the one who, twice now, has escorted me to the doctor, catheter attached from a complication with a c-section, doing his best to help me maintain a bit of dignity. "Um, could you take her back now, so she doesn't have to sit in a waiting room with her pee on display?" (Well, he said it more tactfully...)

He was at my side when I found out I have Crohn's Disease. He's endured the complications and been my hands and feet when I couldn't walk across the room or even change a diaper. He's loved when when my face was puffed up from steroids, and the only beauty in the room was the tender care he has for me.

He was at my side when I needed to have skin cancer removed from my nose. He was the one who removed the bandage to see something much more horrible than even he had imagined. He never let on that things looked so bad or so botched. He was the one who listened to my cries when I saw the damage for the first time.

My Superman does crazy things for me like making sure I don't get wet in a rainstorm or get blown over in a windstorm (more importantly, don't get my hair mussed up.) :) He'll drive miles in search of a hot chocolate or an Icee for me, or drive an hour so I can taste Krispy Kreme donuts.

He's the one who tells me I'm getting "smaller" all the time, even though I know the scale still shows those same numbers. He tells me he's proud of me when I manage to puff away while attempting a 2 mile jog. He praises my cooking and takes me on dates that usually include a trip to the bookstore.

He never calls me "dude." (Yes, I heard a guy call his girl that the other day. Yikes! What kind of men are we raising?) He opens the door for me. He wouldn't think of making me load the car after shopping at Costco. He's faithful and dependable.

He brings me chocolate.

I've been called "spoiled" because my Superman does some of these things for me.But I think every married woman longs for the kind of man who daily makes sacrifices for her, who rolls out the red carpet for her every day. 

Perhaps your Superman cooks for you or cleans the kitchen. Maybe he makes a lot of money, and you never have to think about your budget when you spend. Maybe he gives you back rubs or puts gas in the car for you. Maybe he cares for you as you suffer from a chronic illness. Perhaps he brings you coffee in the morning or reads to you at night.

While there are a lot of Jokers out there, lots of us have Supermen. What would yours do if you let him know he's one? You know..."101 Ways You're My Superman," or if that's just something you can't bring yourself to write, how about, "101 Ways You Spoil Me Every Day."

Your Superman looks different from mine. None of them are perfect. But for many of them (not all, I know!), these kindnesses and sacrifices are their attempts to love their wives as Christ loves the church.

So when we notice a man doing something loving for his wife, even if we think it's just plain over the top, instead of voicing thoughts of a green-eyed monster, let's rejoice instead that we have husbands who love us just as well, though differently.

If you're a woman of few words (do they exist?), then you could simply get your Superman one of these, presented full of his favorite coffee.





I'm sure he'd get the message, loud and clear.

With love,
Trisha


Happy Birthday, my Beloved! I love you!

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

Eight Arms, Please, Lord

I wrote this over a year ago when almost our entire family was struck with something. I'll say it again...sickness in a large family is a very effective means of sanctification. :)


Now it's headaches and fever and chills and coughing. Three down yesterday. Two more today, and I'm praying God will spare me at least until everyone else feels better.


How wonderful it is to know that God has a purpose in this, too. Pray I'll be a kind and patient Mama, please. 


Eight Arms, Please, Lord


Eight arms, please, Lord
Oh, I think it would be good
I could comfort, clean, and cook
And still hold sweet baby, too


I could get her tea and him his pills
Give him a blanket and her a book
And her a drink and him some kleenex
All without dispensing THE Look


You know, the Look that says to all
I'm only one person, with only two hands
Let me lie down, too, instead
And please quiet all these demands


'Cause when Mama's sick, there's no time off
Dishes to clean, sheets to wash, tea to brew
Babies to cuddle, backs to rub, meals to make
And all done with love and hand-blown kisses, too


But since additional appendages
Aren't Your ordinary means
I'd much prefer more grace and faith
And a heart that firmly clings


To Your providential care
Your tender Father's love
That only gives the best of gifts
With wisdom from above


A quiet heart for then I'll plead
And strength to do the next best task
And perhaps a nap thrown in somewhere
Yes, this is what I ask.
~Trisha Poff

Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Cookies and Cream Cupcakes

I'll be your favorite blogger after you try this recipe. (Just don't pin me on Pinterest, 'cause you know what they do with your pictures, right? They're no longer yours.)

Cookies and Cream Cupcakes...a.k.a Oreo Cupcakes. Yum!

Look at the fun surprise at the bottom of the cake.


This recipe was a hit with my Mountain Man. That says a lot because he does not have a sweet tooth. Give him salty over sweet any day. But this is what was heard 'round the dining room table after he finished these tasty gems.

"I believe that's the best cupcake I've ever eaten."

It's every wife's dream to hear those words about anything she makes her Beloved.

BUT, the oreo on the bottom wasn't the only surprise about this recipe. The one son who loves sweets the most didn't like this clever combination of irresistible flavors. We're having his head examined soon.

Don't you believe him. This is a keeper. And I didn't even mind using those cupcake paper liner things.

Bake on, my friends. However, don't expect to eat more than one cupcake at a time, unless you're pregnant or have had a REALLY bad day. These are super sweet. Oh, have the chilled glass of milk ready, too.


Cookies and Cream Cupcakes
brilliant idea of The Cake Doctor

30 Oreo cookies (not double-stuffed, but may use mint or chocolate-stuffed Oreos)
1 pkg. plain white cake mix (18.25 ounces)
1 c. sour cream
1/2 c. vegetable oil
3 large eggs
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract
Buttercream Frosting (see below)

Place rack in center of oven and preheat oven to 350 degrees. Line 24 cupcake cups with paper liners.

Count out 12 Oreos and separate the top and bottom wafers, making sure each wafer has some of the icing on it. (Have an older child do this tedious task and promise to let them eat the ones they break. Remember to have fun!)
Place one wafer, icing side up, in the bottom of each paper liner. Set aside. Place remaining 18 Oreos in zipper-lock bag and crush by rolling over them with a rolling pin. Set crumbs aside.

Place cake mix, sour cream, oil, eggs, and vanilla in large mixing bowl. Blend with electric mixer on low speed for 30 seconds. Scrape down sides of bowl if necessary and then increase mixer speed to medium, beating 1-1/2 minutes more. Measure out 1-1/2 cups of the crushed Oreos and fold into batter until well incorporated. Set aside remaining crushed Oreos for garnish. Spoon or scoop 1/3 c. batter into each lined cupcake cup, filling it 3/4 full.

Bake cupcakes until they are lightly golden and spring back when lightly pressed with your finger, 18-20 minutes. Remove pans from oven and place on wire racks to cool for 5 minutes. Run a dinner knife around the edges of the cupcake liners, lift the cupcakes up from the bottoms of the cups using the end of the knife, and pick them out of the cups carefully with your fingertips. Place on wire rack to cool at least 15 minutes before frosting.

Prepare frosting and place a heaping tablespoon of frosting on each cupcake and swirl to spread it out with a spoon or short metal spatula. Top with leftover cookie crumbs, gently pressing them into the frosting.

Buttercream Frosting
8 T. salted butter, at room temperature
3 c. confectioners' sugar
3-4 T. milk
1 tsp. pure vanilla extract

Place butter in mixing bowl and blend until fluffy, about 30 seconds. Add sugar, milk, and vanilla, and blend on low speed until sugar is incorporated, 1 minute. Increase to medium speed and beat until fluffy, 1 minute more. Add up to 1 T. more milk if icing is too stiff.

With love,
Trisha



Monday, March 19, 2012

When Winter Seems to Be Over


I'm 15 weeks pregnant today.

I'm joyful. I'm hopeful. I'm thankful. I'm thankful. I'm thankful. Did I mention I'm thankful?

I'm trying to savor every second of the privilege of carrying this precious life within me.

Last year held so much death, and the year before that the theme was hospitals and surgeries (though one was the birth of our precious Jedediah!). But both years, as all years, were years of sanctification. Years of loving this world less and Jesus more. Years of learning to praise His name in the storm and cling to Him when I felt like I was just moving from one crisis to another.

What a glorious display it is of His grace at work in us when His taking away, His putting us through the fire, leaves us loving Him all the more. I can truly say of the past couple of years, "It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn Thy statutes." Thank you, Jesus!

My breathing feels easier this side of things. I like the calm. I like that, for now, winter seems to be over.

This is my heart put into words--does your heart know this, too?

"Sometimes God cheers and comforts the hearts of His people with smiling and reviving providences, both public and personal. There are time of lifting up as well as casting down by the hand of Providence. The scene changes, the aspects of Providence are very cheerful and encouraging, their winter seems to be over. They put off their garments of mourning, and then, ah, what sweet returns are made to heaven by gracious souls! Does God lift them up by prosperity? They also will lift up their God by their praises (Psalm 18, title, and verses 1-3)."
~John Flavel
The Mystery of Providence

My sackcloth isn't fully discarded, but I'm thankful for a change of scenery. And I must declare that God didn't only give me sweet returns with the smiling providences. He gave me a heart full of praise in the midst of my mourning, too, in the dead of winter. What a gift! I remember being so overcome by grief and yet spilling over with praise to the LORD. Such grace only sharpens my senses as I journey into spring. Everywhere I look I see reasons to lift up my God with praises.

Winter will come again. It has to. God loves me, loves you, too much, to leave us in a perpetual state of spring-time bliss. He makes winter grounds prime soil for making us more like Christ.

So we breathe in deeply the smiling and reviving providences, the appearance of spring after a long winter, and thank God for the respite. Most of all, we hold tightly to the truth that whether He gives us winter or spring, whether He lifts us up or casts us down, He does all things well.

Praise His name!

With love,
Trisha

Sunday, March 18, 2012

The Chill of the Morning is Forgotten


"O God, Thou art my God; early will I seek Thee; my soul thirsteth for Thee, my flesh longeth for Thee in a dry and thirsty land, where no water is."
~Psalm 63:1


"Communion with God is so sweet that the chill of the morning is forgotten and the luxury of the couch is despised. The morning is the time for dew and freshness, and the Psalmist consecrates it to prayer and devout fellowship."
~C.H. Spurgeon
Treasury of David
Vol. 3 p. 134

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Thankful Thursday-The Extraordinary Ordinary

Seek to cultivate a buoyant, joyous sense 
of the crowded kindnesses of God in your daily life.
~Alexander Maclaren, 1826-1910

I'm thankful for a family of bookworms--though sometimes the book-love can be frustrating. "Everyone put your books away, please!" I know--what a problem to have!

I'm thankful for little hands that love to work.


I'm thankful for the cutest Cucumber-Eating Duo ever.


I'm thankful for a little boy who loves dirt.

He's Little Boy Wonder, I say.

I'm thankful for the sweet songsters that visited the other morning. They blessed me with music and beauty.

How stunning that blue is on the desert canvas.

I'm thankful for healthy children who love to run and play outside.

There's no crisis right now. Life is beautifully predictable (ok, one of the children's car sickness yesterday wasn't predictable, but still...). The weather has been warmer, and we're enjoying the sunshine and walks and breathing in the fresh air. We're healthy. The days are full of lessons and reading and laughing and fighting and eating and praying and praising.

And there's nothing ordinary about this ordinary. I find it most extraordinary.

Thanks be to God!

With love,
Trisha


Wednesday, March 14, 2012

He's Bigger Than My Jury Duty Summons: Part 2

You can read part 1 here.


"From providences past saints argue 
to fresh and new ones to come."
~John Flavel


Having not filled out my jury questionnaire in a timely manner, I was told I forfeited my right to request a medical excusal. So even though I had one from my OB, I didn't present it when I first showed up at court.

God was exceedingly gracious that first day, answering every little prayer I offered up and providing for me in unexpected ways. The second day started with a Crohn's attack, though, and I knew I was going to have to let the court know what was going on, even if they didn't grant an excusal.

I tortured myself with questions about timing. Should I give my medical letter to the court administrator when she checked us in, or should I request to speak to the judge and deal with him directly? God answered this one, too, ever so clearly--the computer malfunctioned for check-in, so my only option was to speak to the judge.

After hearing details of the case we were to serve on, the judge asked if anyone needed to speak to him privately. Thankfully, there were just three of us, and we were put in a room to wait.

I didn't understand I would be speaking to the judge with the attorneys and the defendant present. But when the judge discovered I was before him because of a medical issue, he tried to deal as privately with me as possible in a room full of people. :)

After reading the letter, the judge asked if I could serve if he was willing to work with me. He'd give me bathroom breaks whenever I needed them. I would simply signal the bailiff for a time out. I said I could (though I was wondering just how invisible one can be from a jury box while waving one's hand and begging for a break).

The judge then had to share our conversation with the attorneys present. He was stumped as to how to do this discreetly, and I so appreciated his desire to not embarrass me. I quickly let him know it was fine, and I turned to the attorneys and told them I have Crohn's disease.  Right away both of them nodded. They were familiar with it. The first attorney started to assure me that the judge would work with me in whatever way, and then the second attorney spoke up. He was concerned about the effects of serving, considering the complications from the Crohn's, on my pregnancy, and explained they were fine with my not serving.

So the judge looked at me and said, "We're giving you veto power." It was up to me.

Now I'm an indecisive person. Standing right there I was torn between wanting to serve if I could, and yet, knowing the enormous stress I would be dealing with while trying to manage my Crohn's and pregnancy for the next three months of jury duty because no matter how much the judge wanted to work with me, my Crohn's doesn't cooperate with anyone (other than God). It has a mind of it's own.

But God spared me from hemming and hawing in front of them, and I simply said, "I think it would be best for me not to serve right now, considering everything."

And they were all fine with that. Done. You're excused. No, we don't need your medical letter. We'll take your name off the roll.

I breathed a massive sigh of relief and left.

These posts haven't been about how to get excused from jury duty. The focus is how God takes care of every concern, every detail, just like a loving Father. I'm grateful to Him for the joy of seeing His hand in every moment of those two days. It only encourages me that much more to look for His hand in every moment of all of my days.

John Flavel writes in The Mystery of Providence that we're not to just glance over God's mercies to us. We're to meditate "intensively" on them. We're to "dive as far as we can; and to admire the depth, when we cannot touch the bottom."

Those two days of jury duty were a sort of boot camp on how to do just that--meditate intensively on God's providential care.

May God give us all eyes to see anew His works of providence and hearts that meditate on them deeply, overflowing with thankfulness for His goodness to us.

"For in all providences, especially in some, He comes near to us. These visitations of God preserve our spirits (Job 10:12), and it is a wonderful condescension in the great God to visit us to often, 'every morning and...every moment' (Job 7:18). But not to take notice of it is a vile and brutish contempt of God (Isa 1:3; Zeph 3:2)."
~John Flavel

With love,
Trisha




Happy Birthday, Dear Mama!

Me and my Mama, Christmas 2011

Today is my dear Mama's birthday. It's a bittersweet day, though, as this marks her first birthday without my Dad in over 50 years, as well as the 9 month anniversary of my Dad's Home-going. Thank you in advance for interceding for her. 

I love you, sweet Mama! Oh how I pray God grants us many more years together. May your heart overflow with love for the LORD as you reflect on the many mercies He's poured out on you throughout the years, and may you cherish those special memories you have of Dad, remembering the hope we have in Christ Jesus.

Tuesday, March 13, 2012

My Favorite Mug Right Now

If I could change anything, the mug would say, "This woman is so thankful to God for this baby that she could throw a party every day."

Monday, March 12, 2012

He's Bigger Than My Jury Duty Summons: Part 1

"...there should be a parallel between 
our supplications and thanksgivings. 
We ought not to leap in prayer, and limp in praise."
~C.H. Spurgeon

I discovered my mistake as soon as I sat down to complete my paperwork. "Return forms to the court within 5 days," said the instructions. In my initial panic at being called for jury duty, I didn't read carefully, and I didn't return those papers in five days. Here I was, 3 days before my jury dates, and the only way the court was going to see that questionnaire was for me to hand deliver it.

Now I'm a color-in-the-lines kind of girl. I was safety guard in school, and I was the teacher's pet. I follow the rules, and I believe there are consequences if I don't. 

It's Saturday night, and I'm supposed to be preparing for Sunday worship, but instead I'm staring at a jury questionnaire and nursing images of a stern, towering court guard booming the words, "This woman didn't mail in her form, Judge. Oh by the way, she's a homeschooler!" Everyone in court bursts out in evil laughter as the judge orders me to be taken away and locked up. My pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears, and I'm dragged to the dungeon.

My Beloved's mind doesn't work that way. Ok. You messed up. Just tell them. What can they do? You're showing up for duty. Don't lose sleep over it.

But I did. Add my major goof up to concerns about serving for three months while pregnant and dealing with Crohn's disease, and I had the perfect anxiety-producing cocktail.

Me. The woman whose life is one BIG Ebenezer. Yet, in this moment the court seemed bigger than my God. Practical atheism, as wise men of long ago have called it. 

Flash forward to Sunday morning, and my Pastor does what he does every week. He leaves us with a challenge to LIVE what we know to be true, and this week's reminder was: God never forgets us. This was just what I needed to hear, provision #1 in an endless string of mercies that left me in awe, once again, at God's attention to every detail. I wish you could have witnessed it with me firsthand.

The mercies are so many you'll need to grab a cup of tea now or just move on. But I have to list every one. It would be ungrateful for me not to. I'm leaping in praise just like I leaped in prayer, and I have to declare His goodness! As John Flavel, the Puritan writer, says, it is my duty to note "all of God's performances of providence" for me.  

"Vocal praise should be rendered to God as well as mental adoration; others see our mercies, let them also hear our thanks."
~Spurgeon

~My Superman took me in advance to find the court and scout out additional parking. And after all of the frustration I caused him with my excessive worrying, he still blessed me with a steak dinner. :)

~God provided a parking place for my big 'ol van while in court. The underground parking garage with tight spaces and little wiggle room just wasn't going to cut it. $5.00 a day and a brief walk fit me just fine.

~My Superman followed me to court that first day (it was an hour away but on his way to work) to make sure all went well.

~While standing outside of court for the first time, slightly nervous and not knowing what to expect, an angel appeared at my side. Not Gabriel in all of his glory, but Corinne, a grandmother with beautiful wrinkles, graying hair, and small spectacles. She came right up to me and took me under her wings. It's as though her only purpose was to get me through that court entrance, settled down, and then leave. She was medically dismissed just an hour after we were checked in. 

~The court administrator didn't wear a pointy black hat and have a big hairy mole on her chin, nor did she announce to everyone that I failed to submit my form in a timely manner. She cheerfully took it without returning a lecture or an embarrassing admonition. "That's ok. The main thing is that you brought it with you." 

~The court-appointed bathroom breaks worked just fine for me, and even though I wasn't eating very much because I was concerned about my Crohn's, I didn't pass out. (there were moments I thought I was going to...)

~I didn't get picked for either trial the first day of jury duty. (You'll see why that's a blessing later.)

~I was assigned to a KIND judge. How compassionate and patient this man was, treating all of the jury members, even the frustrating ones, with respect. Do you want to know how I learned this wasn't always the case? (I love how God reinforces  what He's doing so there's no doubt about His mercy.) I sat next to a juror during break who had a stern and unrelenting judge when it came to granting excusals. Small business owner? Oh well. How about 45 days in jail to really see how your business would be impacted by your absence? A nursing Mom? No problem. Just go pump in the room next door.

The first day wrapped up late that afternoon. I was so relieved to be done. I left the court praising God for His endless mercies, ready to return the next afternoon.

But the following morning brought a severe Crohn's attack, leaving me eager to see how God was going to work all of this out. 

You've surely finished that cup of tea by now, so I'll share the rest of His mercies in part 2.

With love,
Trisha

***this is not an encouragement to try and be excused from jury duty. If I wasn't dealing with an active case of Crohn's, then I would have gladly served. Crohn's complicates everything. :)

Saturday, March 10, 2012

Mother Dear, This is What's Happened to Your Brain

I have a quirky attachment to old magazines.  I keep them, naively thinking that there might be some shred of priceless information that I'll one day REALLY need. Even in this overwhelming Information-at-your-fingertips-served-up-in-five-seconds Age, I'm convinced that Google doesn't know it all. (Does anyone else suffer with me?)

I'm facing my disorder, though, albeit not as bluntly as I could. Instead of just gathering all these periodicals and mercilessly tossing them or even holding a bonfire celebrated with s'mores, I torture myself by perusing before destroying.  This is a dangerous practice which seriously curbs my elimination rate.

That said, while poring over a favorite edition of a homeschooling magazine( I know it was a favorite because my yellow highlighter graced the pages many a time), I discovered an answer to the question that every mom asks herself at least once.

"What's happened to my brain?"


This is the question asked when you insist on calling your children the wrong names, even neighbors' names or pet's names. It's the question that creeps up when you absentmindedly leave your baby sitting in the cart as you walk out of the store, just knowing that you've forgotten "something," or when you count how much flour you've measured at least five times before finishing the recipe.

This question tortures the Mama Brain when you discover the milk in the pantry and the eggs in the closet and the potato chips in the fridge and your keys in the freezer.  It's actually the question the children ask when mother offers a piece of candy to the child she just told five minutes ago could have no candy for a year.

But now I know why we do these things. And I'm going to share the secret with you....

"The developing fetus literally sucks essential fats out of the mother's body because these fats are so vital for its brain development...a mother's brain, which is 60% fat, can literally shrink 3% each time she has a child unless she intakes essential fats sufficient for the needs of herself and her baby."
~Dr. Udo Erasmus (I kid you not...I did not fabricate that name!)


While I do indulge in those fatty acids now (they're especially good for Crohn's Disease), I promise I wasn't counting this cost of motherhood when I first saw those double lines. It was enough to remember to take my prenatal vitamins, much less toss in some fish oil, too.

Statistically speaking, I guess close to 24% of my brain might be missing. That's low when you consider Michele Duggar, with her 19 blessings, Susanna Wesley , or Sarah Edwards, who had 11 children.

But, like so many studies, this one lacks a major consideration. It only speaks of brain shrinkage while neglecting heart growth. Because even if Mamas have smaller brains for neglecting their fat intake, there's no doubt Mamas have the biggest hearts ever.

Heart-expansion happens each time you kiss a boo-boo or lose sleep to rub a restless child's back. It happens exponentially when you first see your newborn baby or find out you're pregnant. It increases when you hear "I love you," and "I'm so glad you're my Mommy."

Heart size is magnified by holding tiny hands and kissing tiny feet. It advances with each, "Please forgive me," and every covered offense. It multiplies every time you know the grace of God in the midst of your sin and mistakes and failings. It thrives with each, "Mommy, I have something to confess," and every heartfelt prayer.

Yes, heart-expansion occurs virtually every minute of our Mommy lives. We're transformed from self-absorbed, me-obsessed rookies to sacrificing, grace-dependent heart-tenders, who know very well, that but for God's mercy and grace, we'd have shrinking hearts to add to our shrinking brains.

So, don't fret Mother Dear. Just take those fatty acids, or krill, whichever suits you. Ponder the reliability of scientific knowledge which will tell us in 10 years how wrong it was to take fatty acids now, and most of all, praise and trust God for the preservation of our Mommy Brains and the blessing of Mommy Hearts that are so enlarged they're ready to burst.



With love,
Trisha


***from the archives 
Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...