An Enchanting Day

Saturday we paid our annual visit to Brumbaugh's Fruit Farm with our good friends, the Ayettes. During the months of September and October, there are all sorts of kid-friendly festivities: 2 zip line swings (they added another this year), a pumpkin patch, farm animals, a corn crib and hay bales for kids to play in, a "caterpillar" ride, a corn maze, Storybook Forest, hayrides, and yummy pumpkin cookies and apple fritters (and a ton of other baked goods!). And the best feature of all: Monster Mountain - a huge tunnel slide that the kiddos have been looking forward to going down since our visit last year. The slide made such an impression on Zekers, in fact, that he promptly started calling the whole farm "Monster Valley". (It did us no good to remind him of the slide's actual name.) All year long, he's been asking, "When can we go back to Monster Valley?" Anyway . . .

In spite of the fact that my camera batteries died as soon as we got there, it was a fun, relaxing day. I just love being outdoors in the fall. The kiddos had a blast playing, riding and petting animals. Somehow Zekers, Alia and Karis went on ahead and beat us out of the corn maze! We even got some good pictures, thanks to Alan and Erin. And of course, we brought lots of extra corn and straw back home with us . . .









We stayed until about 4:00, then came home, stuck the kids straight into the bathtub, put them into their PJs, had dinner and watched the movie Enchanted. Danny and I got a kick out of watching Rachel watch the movie. She sat there enraptured. She laughed. She cried. She gasped a few times. She never took her eyes off the screen. When true love's kiss woke the princess up just as the clock struck 12, she leaped exultantly out of her seat, as a huge "YES!!!" burst out of her. (She was a little sheepish when she realized she'd said it out loud.) Our little drama queen.

It was a gift to be able to hang out as a family for the whole day - and I enjoyed every minute of it, except for the few minutes I spent cleaning up Malachi's blowout in an old shed. I cannot find the words to express how thankful I am for my family, or how much I enjoy being with them.

Soccer and Farm Animals

Here's a question: Is there any point to playing a game if there is no "winner" or "loser"?

I say yes. Danny says no.

This "loving disagreement" began when he began coaching Rachel's soccer team (5 & 6-year-olds) on Tuesdays and Saturdays. We learned after the second game that since the goal is to encourage learning and having fun - not just competition - no one keeps score. No one, that is, except my dear husband, who, although he never mentions the score, can tell you just about all of Rachel's team stats for the season. He believes that it's important to teach kids how to lose well, and how to win well, and without the competition factor, there's not much point. I think that at this age, kids can have fun and improve without keeping track of "winners" and "losers." It's excitement enough for them just to be able to kick the ball into the goal. Also, this keeps overly competitive parents from screaming at their kids from the sidelines!

Of course, this only applies up to a certain age. If they played by these rules in the NFL, I don't think it would go over too well.

Anyway, it's been a great experience for all of us. Rachel has really improved and become a little more aggressive (sometimes). It's good exercise for her and a chance to do something with her Daddy. Danny has learned a LOT about working with 5- and 6-year-olds! Zekers has had fun playing at the playground near the field (he makes a beeline for it as soon as we arrive at each game), and Kari Bou and I have enjoyed watching the games and talking with other kids and parents. Malachi has enjoyed darting out onto the playing field every chance he gets, and sucking on used juice boxes he finds lying on the ground.













Now for the farm animals . ..

Two weeks ago we celebrated Mr. Moo's 1st birthday. I made him a barn cake, with pig and sheep cupcakes. I can't even begin to tell you what a disaster it almost was. I'm very thankful that there's almost nothing huge amounts of icing can't fix!

And in keeping with his personality, he refused to have anything to do with his birthday cake. His grandpa made a special cake just for him; and the only thing he'd do was stick his finger in and make a face. Of course, the very next night, when I offered him some, he dug in with gusto. So I at least got a "cake face" picture, even though it wasn't at his party.









And so ends the first year of Malachi's life, and our first foray into the world of athletics with our kiddos. In the spring, Zekers will be old enough to play, so I'm looking forward to the endless entertainment that's sure to be . . .

Pictures Tell the Story

OK, probably all 6 people who read this blog have the same pictures, but I wanted to put them up anyway!



These first 2 were taken during the first session, on Thursday evening. There were something like 6,300 women in attendance.




Now that's a lot of estrogen!


On Saturday, we had a 3-hour break for dinner, so we ate at Ruby Tuesdays at the Woodfield Mall. Even though it was about a mile from the convention center, 3 hours wasn't quite enough!




A kind-hearted woman agreed to take a group photo for us after the last session. All but 4 are pictured here.


Janal and Tammy on the bus. The conference provided free shuttle service to and from the sessions from various hotels. Rachel and Zekers thought it was just the coolest thing ever that Mommy was riding a "schoolbus"!


Kelly, Elaine and Linda on the "schoolbus"


Another group photo at the hotel before leaving . . . this time with three of the four who weren't in the other group photo.


Our "post-deer" van. I couldn't manage to get a picture of the side, since semi trucks kept whizzing past.



Janie took advantage of the time we spent waiting, to teach us all a few dance moves.


Two pastors' wives and our Women's Ministry Director in the back of a patrol car. What I didn't manage to capture on film were Lois, Janie (elder's wife) and Jeni (elder's wife), who the officers obviously considered much more dangerous than us, behind bars in the other patrol car.


"Survivors" - Jodi, Lois, Linda, Janie, Jeni, Charity


"I SAW ITS FACE!!!!!"


My little welcoming committee. (Zekers' picture is "a ghost with Christmas hair")


I spent Sunday evening trying to pay 2 tolls online that we accidentally drove right past on our trip, and hoping I wouldn't end up in the back of a patrol car again. Danny thought it was hilarious that I was paying tolls online, and took about 20 pictures.


Thank you, Father, for safety and health. And for laughter and bonding. And for hard-hitting reminders that YOU are sovereign and WE are not!

An Account Which Begins at My Church and Ends in a Police Car

I've hesitated to write this post, not because I didn't want to recount the events of the past 4 days, but because every time I sit down to type it all out . . . . words fail me. There is simply too much to say.

At 5:45 am on Thursday morning, I stepped rather sluggishly into my van and drove with 4 women from my church to Chicago, where we met up with 15 other sisters for the first ever True Woman Conference. (Follow the link to hear sessions, view the blog and/or join the movement!)

We listened to godly and inspiring speakers: Nancy Leigh DeMoss, Janet Parshall, Joni Earickson Tada, Karen Loritts, John Piper, Mary Kassian. We attended breakout sessions that spoke to specific topics such as motherhood, singleness, friendship, hospitality, mentoring, and leadership in women's ministry. We ate a lot. We drove through traffic a lot. We laughed a lot. We raised our voices and our hands in worship. We stood in wonder at the greatness and magnificence of our God. We washed His feet with our tears. And we came away with a new passion, a strong resolve to live our lives in light of eternity.

In 8 very different messages, each speaker returned to the same themes: God's sovereignty and the perfection of His plan. Acknowledging His goodness, even in the face of suffering. Our complete dependence upon Him. The need to live a counter-cultural life - a life devoted to my God, my husband, my family, and my brothers and sisters in Christ.

John Piper challenged us that "wimpy theology makes wimpy women." Although his wasn't my favorite session overall, this statement stuck with me. Maybe because just about every speaker after him repeated it. Or maybe because God was working in me, filling me with longing to be a student of His Word. In addition to coming back from this conference full of soaring emotions and strong desires, I came back with a firm resolve to humble myself, asking - begging! - God for the discipline to sit at His feet daily and learn from Him. Not as another item to check off my "to do" list. Not as an obligation. Not out of fear or guilt, but out of love and a longing to be more like Him who bore my sins "in His body on the tree" so that I might receive His righteousness. Oh, how I love Him!

He spoke to me specifically on 2 other counts. First, He brought to mind several people and simply spoke into my heart these words: "Love them." Forgive and love. Not because I feel like it or because they've earned it, any more than I have, but because the One who lavishes me with an unfathomable depth of love has asked me to do the same for others - and not just for those that make it easy!

Second, He reminded me again that there is no "Oops!" with Him. There are no accidents and there is no "plan B". He is in complete control, having ordained the events of my life, and the lives of every other person who has ever inhabited this earth, before the foundations of the world. Another quote from John Piper: "God is always doing a thousand different things that you cannot see and you do not know."

And that brings me to the new title of this site. It came from the last day of the conference, when Nancy Leigh DeMoss made the statement that "There's THE VIEW. And then there's the OTHER VIEW." Meaning that there's our perspective, and then there's God's perspective. My heart's desire is that as this breath that is my life progresses, I'll come to view every circumstance from HIS point of view. Not just the "big" things - the extreme highs and lows - but the seemingly insignificant moments when the real battles are fought. Isaiah 55:8-9 says, "For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways," declares the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts."

At this point, you may be wondering why a police car is mentioned in the title of the post.

As I drove our van home on Saturday with 5 other women whom I dearly love, a full-grown buck darted out and slammed into the side, front and windshield of our van, completely disabling it. In spite of pretty extensive damage to the vehicle, none of the passengers were harmed in the least! No bruises. No broken bones. Not even whiplash. Of course, it wasn't in my plan to crash the van or to end up at home nearly 2 hours later than expected. It wasn't my plan to spend time in the back of a patrol car, heading toward a "Flying J" plaza where we waited for someone to take us the rest of the way home, while my beloved van was towed away.

But I cannot describe the peace that filled my heart, in spite of my shaking hands and quivering stomach! It was a very, very tangible reminder and assurance that God is, and always will be, our Protector. How did a large deer slam into our van, as we drove 70 mph down the interstate, with other cars all around us, and no one was hurt at all?

I plan to post pictures in a few days, but for now, I'm still processing everything I've seen and heard during the past week. I simply cannot describe to you the abiding peace and joy that have been my constant companions these past few days. Not because of any perfection on my part, but because of Jesus. Oh, how I love Him!

A Rose by Any Other Name

Some expectant parents go to great lengths to give their children names that can't be chopped up into various and sundry nicknames. Danny and I are not among them!

Honestly, it wouldn't have mattered anyway. My dear husband has the unique ability to come up with nicknames that have absolutely no connection with our children's actual names. This has led to many a raised eyebrow and more than a few inquiries as to where on earth these terms of endearment originated. Since I, obviously, love the carefully-selected names that appear on each child's birth certificate, I've tried to fight the good fight . . . pretty much in vain. These names have just sort of stuck.

So, since you may have heard us referring to the kiddos by these names and wondered who is actually so cruel as to call a child something like this, I will now attempt to lay out the rhyme and reason behind each child's "name" . . . if there is any!

Rachel
Also known as: Shrumshine
When Rachel was about 3, she received 2 baby dolls, which she promptly named "Shrum-Shrum" and "Kir-Kir". She also named the 2 fashion barbie dolls that were given to her "Hermie" and "Webster", but that's another story. Danny got such a kick out of the names for her dolls - and we never could figure out exactly how she chose them - that he started calling her "Shrum", which, ended up turning into "Shrumshine," which he inserts into every song he can think of with the word "sunshine." You've got to hear it sometime.

Ezekiel
You can't call a tiny little bundle "Ezekiel". So I started off calling him "Zeke", which quickly turned into "Zekers." Occasionally, I would refer to him as my "Budders." For me, this is pretty zany. Danny, however, took things to a new level by starting to call him "Beef". He couldn't have been much more than 2 at the time. I think the name stuck because he's always been so skinny, and eventually developed several variations, including Mr. Beef and Beef Man. You know it's bad when he tells his Sunday School teacher, "Just call me Beef." The terrifying thing, to me, is he actually thinks that's his name.

Karis
This poor child has had too many nicknames to even list. When Rachel first saw her in the hospital, she called her "Baby Carrots." AFter this, she somehow received the nickname "Kari Bou", but has also been called "Boo Boo", "Poo Boo", "Poo Bear" and "BooBerry Muffin." Now her name has pretty much settled into "Poobly-Boo." There really is no explanation for these names. They just simply . . . are. I do find it really endearing when Danny calls her "My Bear."

Malachi
Also known as: Mr. Moo
When it comes to nicknames, this little guy has been through it all. Believe it or not, there actually is a reasonable explanation for this one! When we brought him home, I fought like crazy to call him "Kai". Danny hated this, however, so it was an uphill battle. Karis couldn't pronounce his name at all, so what came out was usually something like "Moo-Kai". Playing off of this, we've called him everything from "Drool-a-cry" to "Smelly Guy." After a while, the name "Moo-Kai" turned into "Baby Moo" and is now "Mr. Moo." And it somehow fits. At least it's better than Danny's first name for him: "The Meat Biscuit".

So there it is . . . the method (or lack of it) behind the craziness. Good, submissive wife that I am, I've given up the fight and refer to them by these bizarre titles. I have the comfort of knowing they're still quite familiar with their given names, which they hear about a dozen times each day when they do something frustrating!

Life is a Battlefield

. . . be strong in the Lord, and in His mighty power . . . For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. - Ephesians 6:10, 12


Incident #1: Yesterday morning we had our second mom's group meeting of the school year. My friend Susan shared a much-needed challenge on the topic of "honoring our husbands"; what godly submission is and isn't. We had a really good, although not nearly long enough, small group discussion following her challenge, and afterward my small group leader encouraged a couple of us not to forget that we do battle daily - spiritual battle.

Incident #2: While doing my "homework" this weekend for a mid-week Bible study I'm privileged to be a part of, I read a few small paragraphs that have had my brain working overtime all week (it doesn't take much!).

We've been going through Jesus, the One and Only by Beth Moore. Her main point in this lesson, taken from Luke 4 where Jesus heals Simon's mother-in-law, was that threatening situations in our homes (unresolved conflict, unfaithfulness, compromising media communication, pornography, etc.) directly influence Christ's heightened activity in our lives. She then asked us the question: "Do you have a sense of Christ's activity in your home? If so, what set of circumstances led to the invitation for Him to come?"

I thought long and hard about this. Several different "threatening circumstances" over the past 3 years came to mind, and I recalled, with gratitude, that these times did in fact cause my relationship with Christ to deepen. I did sense His activity in our home - in Danny's life and mine. The fact is, God does use hard times to drive us to our knees, to lovingly remind us of our need for His grace.

But here's the thing. When I thought back over the past 10 years to recall the time I felt THE closest to my Savior, the time I've felt His activity in my home more than any other, I made the startling realization that the answer is: right now! What?!

That doesn't make any sense. We've gone through plenty of tough stuff in the past, but at the present moment we're not in crisis mode. I have no doubt that in the future we will experience threatening times which will cause us to cling even more closely to Christ. But for now, life is just sort of . . . moving along. So why would I feel closer to Christ now?

And then it hit me: For the past three weeks, by an absolute miracle of God's grace, I've been rising about an hour earlier than usual in order to make the time to meet with God each morning before the demands of the day sap my time and energy. And it has made all the difference! By finally - for the first time in years - throwing my excuses to the curb, and consistently spending time in God's Word and earnest prayer, I feel closer to my God that I ever have. I sense His activity in our home because I am looking for it.

And that brings me back to the battle. It's easy to recognize the "big" battles - the threatening circumstances or the major conflicts in our homes. But I firmly believe that the most important battles are fought on a daily, hourly, even minute-ly basis - when we don't even realize we're fighting a battle. The few seconds in which I decide to bite my tongue or unleash a string of poisonous words. The moment when I'm torn between ignoring something I just witnessed one of my children do, or taking the time to deal with it. The split second when I have to decide between hitting the snooze button and dragging myself out of bed to spend time with God. The times when I have to make a conscious decision to drown in self-pity or to live in thankfulness. The many, many moments when I waver between honoring my husband and demeaning him. These "harmless" little moments carry immense spiritual significance. Because in these moments, a battle is being fought.

I feel like most days I experience a lot more defeat in these areas than victory. But I'm clinging to the hope that consistently sitting at the feet of my Savior and leaning on HIS grace, I'll be able to look back and see baby steps of progress. But I Corinthians 10 warns, "So if you think you are standing firm, be careful that you don't fall!" As long as we draw breath, the battle rages on.

The Psalms are filled with references to the dailyness of a good relationship with God. Even on a human level, is there any such thing as a good friendship where one party only seeks the other out in times of crisis? Difficult times can help to draw two people closer, but there has to be consistent communication between those times, in order for the friendship to flourish. A significant part of the battle is fought in quiet time with God. "In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength." (Isaiah 30:15)

So . . . what set of circumstances led me to invite Christ into my home? He's been present in my home ever since I gave my life to Him. And the extent to which I sense His presence? "But if from there you seek the Lord your God, you will find him if you look for him with all your heart and with all your soul." (Deuteronomy 4:29)

And it's only by His amazing Grace that we are even able to look for Him! I'm grateful for Bible studies that force me to dig and think. And I'm grateful that the God of the universe makes Himself accessible to people as undeserving as us. Oh God, give us strength to fight the good fight!