On Saturday we drove to Sioux Falls and back to see daughter-in-law Callie in her senior voice recital. She sang beautifully: even better than last year, which is saying something. I helped her mom serve trifles at a reception afterwards, and basked in reflected glory as "David's mom," because David had the same voice teacher. It struck me that this grown-up kid thing is going to be really fun. To enjoy their successes in a special way, while no longer having to correct every mistake or fix every failure, will be the best of both worlds.
We have a friend who claims that her mother-in-law caused her divorce. When Cheryl married Glen, over forty years ago, Glen's mom Eunice was thrilled. Thereafter, not so much. When Glen and Cheryl wanted to move to Iowa, Eunice was afraid it might not be best. When Glen decided against going to seminary, Eunice "just didn't have a peace about it." From parenting decisions to decorating schemes, Eunice always had an opinion about "God's will," and rarely agreed with the unhappy couple. Because of Eunice's spiritual confidence, Glen had a hard time setting boundaries or ignoring her advice. Plus, she was his mother!
Our challenge, then, is to release our married children to their spouses, realizing that this is a new family accountable to God alone in Christ. We can and will pray for them more urgently than for others, and if they are wise, they'll ask for our prayers and our advice. We're thankful for our own parents, who have set a good example in this area. The other key is to remember that the Lord loves them more than we do, and has an entire Body of people He can use to help them grow in Him. If it is to be, it is NOT necessarily up to me!
Monday, February 25, 2013
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Praise the Lord
On Friday at Bible Study, we discussed Psalm 150 and its exhortation to praise with every kind of instrument. We've committed to spend time praising the Lord each day, meaning listening to and/or singing along with praise music. Yvonne mentioned that the first week was awkward; she takes quiet time with God each day, but hasn't been focused on praise and it felt strange. Carol asked, "What about when I don't feel like praising? Does God want us to have an attitude of, 'OK, I'll just do it anyway because it's on the list'?" After mulling that over and talking about it some more, we agreed - "Yes." When Hebrews 13 exhorts us to "continually offer to God a sacrifice of praise," isn't the writer implying that it isn't always easy? If we only did for our children or our spouses what we felt like doing, our relationships would quickly deteriorate. We are "by nature sinful and unclean," so sometimes we just have to grit our teeth and act in accordance with our beliefs, principles or convictions, ignoring our feelings. Yvonne also reminded us that our actions tend to produce feelings; if we do what we should, often (or at least occasionally) our emotions will catch up and we'll feel good about it. We decided to continue praising each day, whether we feel like it or not!
Saturday, February 9, 2013
Bad Days
I'm tense and crabby today. It might actually be PMS, which I've never had before. I snapped at the kids for leaving house chores undone or not doing them well, resented Pete for making reasonable demands upon me, napped for over an hour and am just as tired after getting up. I have a few abdominal cramps, but mostly feel lethargic, unmotivated and irritable - although, of course, I was fine at the church, hosting a bridal shower this morning. No crabbiness then! I criticize the kids for acting politely and kindly to others, but rudely to us. Wonder where they get it? Not a good day.
We're dealing with an abundance of bad news around us. A friend's father just found out he has pancreatic cancer; we've never known anyone personally with this disease, but now know two who will, barring a miracle, leave this earth this year. The other friend with pancreatic cancer had her second CT scan, revealing that her liver tumors have tripled in size and making chemotherapy irrelevant. Another friend got a DWI and lost his job because the court process disclosed that he is, in fact, an illegal alien. Of course he got himself into this mess, and certainly it's probably for the best that he get home to his family he hasn't seen for ten years, but we still love him and hate to see him suffer. A fellow home school mom died of breast cancer a few weeks ago, leaving nine children, including two in high school. Two couples who belong to our church are probably divorcing - and apparently the two breakups are connected. I sang at a funeral the other day; the family is so dysfunctional that a day with no blowups was considered a success.
Of course there are some bright spots; one couple who has been having marriage troubles is doing better, another who's been living together is getting married, and a good friend's daughter stopped taking anti-depressants because of her pregnancy and is doing fine.
I suppose we should be grateful that for over fifty years, our lives and those of our friends and relatives have been so relatively smooth. Many people have trouble and trauma all around them every day of their lives. But it's hard to take a seemingly sudden change. Our hearts hurt for many, and especially some who don't seem to know the Lord very well. I can't imagine trying to deal with crushing blows without the hope of eternity and a day with "no more tears." I've been convicted of my need to spend more time in prayer, both to plead for our friends and to reset my perspective. Truly this life is but a vapor, and the trials we face are not worth comparing with the glory we shall see. Now can I remember that when the chores are left undone?
We're dealing with an abundance of bad news around us. A friend's father just found out he has pancreatic cancer; we've never known anyone personally with this disease, but now know two who will, barring a miracle, leave this earth this year. The other friend with pancreatic cancer had her second CT scan, revealing that her liver tumors have tripled in size and making chemotherapy irrelevant. Another friend got a DWI and lost his job because the court process disclosed that he is, in fact, an illegal alien. Of course he got himself into this mess, and certainly it's probably for the best that he get home to his family he hasn't seen for ten years, but we still love him and hate to see him suffer. A fellow home school mom died of breast cancer a few weeks ago, leaving nine children, including two in high school. Two couples who belong to our church are probably divorcing - and apparently the two breakups are connected. I sang at a funeral the other day; the family is so dysfunctional that a day with no blowups was considered a success.
Of course there are some bright spots; one couple who has been having marriage troubles is doing better, another who's been living together is getting married, and a good friend's daughter stopped taking anti-depressants because of her pregnancy and is doing fine.
I suppose we should be grateful that for over fifty years, our lives and those of our friends and relatives have been so relatively smooth. Many people have trouble and trauma all around them every day of their lives. But it's hard to take a seemingly sudden change. Our hearts hurt for many, and especially some who don't seem to know the Lord very well. I can't imagine trying to deal with crushing blows without the hope of eternity and a day with "no more tears." I've been convicted of my need to spend more time in prayer, both to plead for our friends and to reset my perspective. Truly this life is but a vapor, and the trials we face are not worth comparing with the glory we shall see. Now can I remember that when the chores are left undone?
Saturday, January 19, 2013
Getting Ready for Frankenpastor
In October, Linda informed me that due to her granddaughter's cancer, she might have to bow out of directing this year's church youth group musical for the dinner theater. Sure enough, Lois talked to me the first week of January and we agreed that Pete would direct the drama and I would, as usual, take care of the music.
Several concerns raised by this decision are:
1. How will the kids respond to the change in directing style between Linda and Pete?
2. How will Pete know everything that needs to be done outside of the play?
3. How will Pete and I and Lois get along?
4. What play will we do, and who will have what parts?
We chose the play, "Frankenpastor," and assigned the parts last week. We also set the dates, for March 8-10. At our first rehearsal on Wednesday, the first and second questions were answered satisfactorily. The kids can see that Pete knows what he's doing and will respond accordingly. Laurie assured us that the parents will take care of the meal, decorating, tickets, programs and everything except the play itself. She was heading to a parents meeting with a folder in hand, so I assume she knows what needs to be done. We'll just relax and forget about all that. The dinner theater is always a wonderful example of the Body of Christ working together and using all the gifts, talents and skills of its members.
Pete and I are getting along fine through the first stage of rewriting the music and writing new music. Six years ago, for our first musical, "The Return," I had to write all new music in about ten days. This show poses a comparable challenge, as the fourteen songs are necessary for length. Several of them cannot be done by our group because of range, ability or appropriateness of the accompaniment. All are new lyrics written to pop tunes, which means sheet music or karaoke tracks have to be found or I have to figure out the accompaniment by ear. As usual, I have to make practice mp3s for the kids to listen to so they can learn the music because we won't have enough rehearsals for memorization.
No wonder I'm a little stressed out this week! Thanks, kids, for filling in around the house. We'll get through this!
Several concerns raised by this decision are:
1. How will the kids respond to the change in directing style between Linda and Pete?
2. How will Pete know everything that needs to be done outside of the play?
3. How will Pete and I and Lois get along?
4. What play will we do, and who will have what parts?
We chose the play, "Frankenpastor," and assigned the parts last week. We also set the dates, for March 8-10. At our first rehearsal on Wednesday, the first and second questions were answered satisfactorily. The kids can see that Pete knows what he's doing and will respond accordingly. Laurie assured us that the parents will take care of the meal, decorating, tickets, programs and everything except the play itself. She was heading to a parents meeting with a folder in hand, so I assume she knows what needs to be done. We'll just relax and forget about all that. The dinner theater is always a wonderful example of the Body of Christ working together and using all the gifts, talents and skills of its members.
Pete and I are getting along fine through the first stage of rewriting the music and writing new music. Six years ago, for our first musical, "The Return," I had to write all new music in about ten days. This show poses a comparable challenge, as the fourteen songs are necessary for length. Several of them cannot be done by our group because of range, ability or appropriateness of the accompaniment. All are new lyrics written to pop tunes, which means sheet music or karaoke tracks have to be found or I have to figure out the accompaniment by ear. As usual, I have to make practice mp3s for the kids to listen to so they can learn the music because we won't have enough rehearsals for memorization.
No wonder I'm a little stressed out this week! Thanks, kids, for filling in around the house. We'll get through this!
Saturday, January 12, 2013
The Latest Cat Saga
For a couple of months, we've been complaining about the cats. In August 2011, Philip got two kittens from the Christopher family, naming them Toby and Tico. Turned out Toby was the girl and Tico the boy, but that didn't bother him. In fact, he was inspired to build a scratching post,
a cat house and a catwalk around the roof of the garage. They were sweet and cute and playful and spent some time indoors (a first for our farm family), and Toby started showing signs of expecting more kittens in the spring. While we vacationed in California, she gave birth - possibly to only one kitten, possibly to more who didn't live. Inbreeding, I suspected. Naranja, an (obviously) orange kitten, was sweet and cute and playful. Philip had lots of fun with him, as Tico had disappeared in a tomcat sort of way (he showed up once with a bullet in his leg, but once he could hop and leap about with only three legs, he was gone again). Soon Toby looked like a pregnant mama once again. We were not thrilled.
A few days before David's wedding, Naranja started acting very strangely, having what looked like seizures or choking. Within ten minutes he died in a crying Philip's arms. We buried him, consoled by the kittens to come. While we celebrated with the happy couple in North Dakota, the kittens arrived - five of them! They were sweet and cute and playful, but there were so many. Philip manfully named them all - Huck, Rex, Smoky, Gypsy and Padfoot.
We dealt with the litter training and taming - they really were fun. By bringing them to a 4-H meeting, we managed to give away two of the females, leaving us with Rex and Smoky, males; and female Gypsy. Philip decided he wanted to keep one kitten and Toby; we decided they would be fixed, so no more kittens would be spawned. At first we planned to keep Gypsy, but Rex soon endeared himself to us as a calmer, friendlier cat, so we settled on him. Alas, it was not to be.
On Wednesday, Pete and I returned from a meeting at church to find the dogs barking at Rex. Whether Rex was being a male and bristling, whether the dogs smelled something else on him, or whether there was some other explanation, we don't know. Pete drove to the mailbox, and when he parked in the garage, he heard Rex meowing under the van. Did the dogs shake him and break his spine, or did he race under the vehicle and get run over? In either case, he had no control over his hind section. He didn't appear to be in pain as he quietly lay in the laundry room, and died about an hour later, as Pete was preparing to put him down.
Philip and I cried over Rex, and realized that we really don't want to see the cats dead, as we had been joking about. We're not complaining about the cats now. How often we take things for granted, when nothing is for certain in this life. Thanks be to God that He is certain, and so is the next life!
A few days before David's wedding, Naranja started acting very strangely, having what looked like seizures or choking. Within ten minutes he died in a crying Philip's arms. We buried him, consoled by the kittens to come. While we celebrated with the happy couple in North Dakota, the kittens arrived - five of them! They were sweet and cute and playful, but there were so many. Philip manfully named them all - Huck, Rex, Smoky, Gypsy and Padfoot.
On Wednesday, Pete and I returned from a meeting at church to find the dogs barking at Rex. Whether Rex was being a male and bristling, whether the dogs smelled something else on him, or whether there was some other explanation, we don't know. Pete drove to the mailbox, and when he parked in the garage, he heard Rex meowing under the van. Did the dogs shake him and break his spine, or did he race under the vehicle and get run over? In either case, he had no control over his hind section. He didn't appear to be in pain as he quietly lay in the laundry room, and died about an hour later, as Pete was preparing to put him down.
Philip and I cried over Rex, and realized that we really don't want to see the cats dead, as we had been joking about. We're not complaining about the cats now. How often we take things for granted, when nothing is for certain in this life. Thanks be to God that He is certain, and so is the next life!
Saturday, January 5, 2013
Lies We Believe
A recently-divorced friend (call her Peggy, since I have no friends by that name) posted on Facebook, "I read that my kids will remember my attitude more than the things I tried to teach them. It made me cry, because my kids had me during the worst years of my life, when I was a stressed-out, depressed person. That's not who I really am. I'm sorry, kids - I wish it could have been different."
This troubled me, but I had to think about it quite a while before I realized why. The lies Peggy believes are so thick that it's hard to untangle them and evaluate them one at a time.
1. I'm not me some of the time. This friend and her husband dealt with some very difficult circumstances. Unfortunately, Peggy responded with anger, bitterness, blame (in her words, "stress" and "depression") and ultimately, the decision to shed her husband like a snake sheds its old, worn-out skin. Now she feels liberated, as though she is blossoming into her true self. She's happy and carefree, as she remembers feeling in the early years of her marriage. But who was stressed-out and depressed? Peggy. Who regularly lashed out at her husband and kids? Peggy. Who broke up their unhappy home? Peggy. Some other person did not take possession of Peggy's body. She really was, and is, that person.
2. Circumstances control our lives; we are just victims. Those "worst years" could have been the best years, had Peggy responded with patience, trust or love to the trials she faced. Her three daughters could be filled with admiration at what their mother endured and gratitude for an intact, happy home despite their troubles. My own parents had many ups and downs in their 38-year marriage, but at my mother's funeral, I cried with joy that we had walked the cancer journey together as a whole family.
3. Things couldn't have been any different. Things could have been different. When her husband turned out to be a jerk, as all men are occasionally, Peggy could have remembered why she married him in the first place and patiently waited for things to get better. She could have restrained her tongue at home as she does at work. She could have sought counseling with a willingness to change herself instead of a preconceived determination that her husband or the circumstances were at fault. She could have surrounded herself with people who believed, "Murder, maybe; divorce, never." She could have recognized her own complicity in the problems and extended grace to her husband and daughters.
This whole post depressed me because Peggy continues to see herself as a victim and therefore doesn't see any need to change her own attitudes. Does she really believe that now that her husband is out of her home, no trials will ever arise? Or that she will somehow respond with grace and joy to future difficulties, when she has a completely different pattern firmly entrenched in her psyche?
I am no better than Peggy. I have the same negative reactions, the same self-righteous bitterness, the same tendency to blame others and lash out at them. What will my children remember? I pray they will remember that Jesus Christ forgives and renews me and them. I pray they will remember that the Holy Spirit "calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies" us. I pray they will remember my humble moments. And I pray they will remember that two jerks can live together in peace and love through God's power.
This troubled me, but I had to think about it quite a while before I realized why. The lies Peggy believes are so thick that it's hard to untangle them and evaluate them one at a time.
1. I'm not me some of the time. This friend and her husband dealt with some very difficult circumstances. Unfortunately, Peggy responded with anger, bitterness, blame (in her words, "stress" and "depression") and ultimately, the decision to shed her husband like a snake sheds its old, worn-out skin. Now she feels liberated, as though she is blossoming into her true self. She's happy and carefree, as she remembers feeling in the early years of her marriage. But who was stressed-out and depressed? Peggy. Who regularly lashed out at her husband and kids? Peggy. Who broke up their unhappy home? Peggy. Some other person did not take possession of Peggy's body. She really was, and is, that person.
2. Circumstances control our lives; we are just victims. Those "worst years" could have been the best years, had Peggy responded with patience, trust or love to the trials she faced. Her three daughters could be filled with admiration at what their mother endured and gratitude for an intact, happy home despite their troubles. My own parents had many ups and downs in their 38-year marriage, but at my mother's funeral, I cried with joy that we had walked the cancer journey together as a whole family.
3. Things couldn't have been any different. Things could have been different. When her husband turned out to be a jerk, as all men are occasionally, Peggy could have remembered why she married him in the first place and patiently waited for things to get better. She could have restrained her tongue at home as she does at work. She could have sought counseling with a willingness to change herself instead of a preconceived determination that her husband or the circumstances were at fault. She could have surrounded herself with people who believed, "Murder, maybe; divorce, never." She could have recognized her own complicity in the problems and extended grace to her husband and daughters.
This whole post depressed me because Peggy continues to see herself as a victim and therefore doesn't see any need to change her own attitudes. Does she really believe that now that her husband is out of her home, no trials will ever arise? Or that she will somehow respond with grace and joy to future difficulties, when she has a completely different pattern firmly entrenched in her psyche?
I am no better than Peggy. I have the same negative reactions, the same self-righteous bitterness, the same tendency to blame others and lash out at them. What will my children remember? I pray they will remember that Jesus Christ forgives and renews me and them. I pray they will remember that the Holy Spirit "calls, gathers, enlightens, and sanctifies" us. I pray they will remember my humble moments. And I pray they will remember that two jerks can live together in peace and love through God's power.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
The End of Civilization as We Know It
I watched a new game show last night and was appalled. We recently fixed our UHF antenna, knocked out by lightning over a year ago, and I decided to see what was on while folding clothes and soaking my feet. I had noticed the ads for "Take It All" while enjoying "Jeopardy" on Channel 11, and thought it looked interesting. It was. Five contestants start the game, a combination of "The Price is Right" and the stealing game we do at Christmas. They learn the price range of the prizes (Round 1, $5000-$12,000; Round 3, $33,000-$100,000) and attempt, through "opening" a new prize or "stealing" from one of the other competitors, to avoid possessing the lowest-priced prize at the end of the round. The one who fails goes home with nothing. That in itself should have been a warning sign to me that I wasn't going to like this game. So at the end of Round 3, law student Destiny enters the Prize Fight with the Porsche she "locked in," thus saving it from theft by Patrick, who therefore went home with nothing. J.T. arrives with his private jet ski vacation, the top prize so far, valued at over $100,000. Each draws an unknown cash prize, faces the other and starts talking. J.T. assures Destiny and us that he intends to use his winnings to start an anti-bullying foundation, as he has always felt so alone in his homosexuality. Destiny persuades him and us that the vacation to Italy is the main thing for her, and if they both choose to keep what's theirs, she will donate her cash to his foundation. They're both crying when the moment of truth arrives. If both press "Keep What's Mine," they keep it. If both press "Take it All," both lose everything. But here's the kicker: if each chooses a different button, the one who pushes "Take it All" gets everything. Naturally, you can guess what happened last night. J.T. chose to keep what was his, but Destiny - with cash and prizes worth over $200,000 before she pushed the button - selected "Take it All" and walked out the door with winnings of over $400,000, sending J.T. home with nothing. The entire audience gasped with mouths wide open; Destiny couldn't believe it at first, then raised her arms in the Victory sign. "I took the risk. I meant what I said about the vacation being the main thing, but hey - this is playing the game. I won." I wonder if she will donate her cash to J.T.'s foundation. Oh, that's right - J.T. won't be starting a foundation. He won nothing. I won't be watching that show again, and it depresses me that there's an audience for it. Is it the end of civilization as we know it?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)