Please note: this post is part two in a study series we are beginning, in which you are welcome to join. You may find part one, the introduction, HERE.

This is a study that made me rethink a lot of beliefs I held tightly but did not own…things I believed because I was told they were true, rather than because I studied them myself. I had to slaughter a lot of my ’sacred cows’, and tear down many high places as I went through this study the first time. Because my memory is intact concerning my own experience with the study is the reason we will move slowly through this. It just takes time to digest it all.

Before we begin, I want to encourage everyone to do your homework! What…there’s homework? Well, not officially, but in order to own beliefs, one really needs to study for themselves. So get out your Bibles, pens and notebooks, and let’s do the Berean thing.

“And the brethren immediately sent away Paul and Silas by night unto Berea: who coming thither went into the synagogue of the Jews. These were more noble than those in Thessalonica, in that they received the word with all readiness of mind, and searched the scriptures daily, whether those things were so.” Acts 17 : 10-11

So often it is a temptation to skim over Scriptures that are familiar to us, because, well, we’ve read the same ones a thousand times over. I want to encourage you to really meditate on the Scriptures in the study. Use your concordance to look up the words in the original Hebrew or Greek, make notes, and allow yourself some time for what you’re studying to sink in. Ask Father, through His Holy Spirit, to confirm what you are reading…He will.

Here are a couple of quotes to notice as you go through this lesson:

Keep this in mind: Religion in itself would not exist if people weren’t mislead into believing their distinct religious ritual and creed made them acceptable to God. And note:
Religion can exist without any relationship with God.

And regarding the two charts at the end of the lesson, Mike and Sue urge:

It’s vital that you examine and judge your own faith practices. In the next few pages, we contrast different aspects of the Hebraic, relational way of interacting with God and each other, and Hellenistic, religious forms. Prayerfully go through the comparison to discern if you have been told the whole truth during your faith pilgrimage.

And one more:

One of the main difficulties in any discussion about “faith” is to admit that you might be wrong.

Throughout the study, I’ll be sharing several areas where Mr. Visionary and I realized that we were indeed, dead wrong, once we compared “what we believed” to the Scriptures.

Here’s the link for Lesson Two.

Remember to come back and post your thoughts after going through it. We all will.

PLEASE NOTE: The comments are closed on this HomeschoolBlogger site, because the real discussion is taking place at my new site. Come join us.

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Sick and tired…all the time…is truly no way to live.

We have become very diligent about being trustworthy stewards of our physical health, in order to keep as far from the sick and tired state as possible. We stay fairly healthy most of the time, but have, for those times we do succumb to the sick and tired state, learned what to make as well as how to administer our own medicine to bring ourselves back to health and vitality.

For physical illness, we use physical medicine.

Oh, that sick and tired in the physical were the only type of sick and tired there was! Alas, Mr. Visionary and I have been far more sick and tired emotionally and spiritually than we have ever been physically. We have spent years in “traditional church”, spinning wheels, going through the motions of all the acceptable church-sponsored activities, doing all that we were told would bring fulfillment and a sense of intimacy with Father…only to find it all lacking. In a very real sense we felt as if we were merely rearranging furniture on the deck of the Titanic. We have come home from more than a few church meetings to simply weep…feeling as spent and broken-down as we could be…only to have no answers.

No homemade tincture could ever fix this kind of sick and tired.

How we longed for some answers, for something to infuse the empty activity with meaning and change our listlessness to vigor. How we cried out to Jesus to show us what medicine would cure this longing! We had no idea how He would do this for us, but we were certain that if we continued seeking, He would answer us in some way.

Fast forward to a bad virus that hit our home this winter. Although Mr. Visionary and I were laid out flat on the Family Room floor, unable to move because of the nausea, we were able to do research on the computer. At the time our church was going through a restructuring process, and we were searching for information to help our pastor walk through it all. We “coincidentally” came across a study that later proved to be divinely inspired timing…and the answer for which we had been crying out to Father. Our life has been so profoundly impacted by this study, that I felt compelled to share it with a few friends.

Several friends and I have been going, individually, but simultaneously through this study. We have been blessed so tremendously in our discussion and sharing based on the study! Further, since I linked to this study before, I have gotten so much e-mail about it that I have prayed about doing the study on the blog, with whomever would like to join us.

If you have ever felt sick and tired of churchianity…and felt Father drawing you to something else…something more real…more intimate…more simple, then please pray and consider joining us in this study. We will have the comments open, and I believe several blogging friends will be joining in the discussion through the comments with us.

What He showed us through this study was that He had no desire to fill the empty activity, as He never desired it anyway. What He intended was to show us His heart for His people from the start…and how we left His original plan. Mike and Sue Dowgiewicz, especially anointed teachers, have a heart for taking us back to the beginning…to the church even before Acts, and walking us through history to see where things got off track. They teach the relational priorities from Scripture that Father intended for us, beginning with our relationship with Him, moving outward to the relationships within our own homes, and only then to our extended spiritual family and the rest of the world, as their diagram shows:

P.S. I spoke with Sue Dowgiewicz, and have their full blessing for doing the study and using their files. Their ministry is 100% funded by donations, and they allow and encourage anyone to copy and share their PDF files, audio lessons, and DVDs. It is very refreshing considering all the $39.95 tape sets and encouragements to “buy my latest book” from the radio guys.

I’m just saying. Refreshing is good.

 PLEASE NOTE: The comments are closed on this HomeschoolBlogger site, because the real discussion is taking place at my new site.

Here is a link to the First Lesson there.

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Some random facts:

1. I have two blogs, one here, and one at HomesteadBlogger.
   
2. I don't know why I started two blogs.
3. They take too much time to maintain.
4. I like to blog anyway.
5. I started my own blog at my own site to remedy the situation.

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***This post is an answer to something in the comments section of yesterday's post, What Will We Do With It?  Please read that first, in order to understand this response. ***

<<<<Just a question for you women without sounding silly or naieve. I'd like to get an idea of your day without tv. I know this sounds ridiculous. But I come from a family of non-Christians and was raised on radio and tv. I guess I'd like to know what your day is filled with doing? When your husbands come home from work, how do they relax? What do you do together when they come home at night? A couple more questions come to mind. The internet has alot of the same things as TV does, how do you filter all of that? We have a presidential election coming up. How do you research the candidates? The computer? The Library? Do you even involve yourself with voting?>>>>

Let me begin by assuring you that you do not sound silly or naive. You sound like a person who has lived so long one way that you cannot imagine life another way. You sound like a person who has been indoctrinated by 'the world' to hate silence. You are expressing the typical Western mindset of our day. I too, was raised in an ungodly home with all forms of media blaring morning, noon and night. I remember summer vacation from public school being a blur of HBO and MTV. I also remember wondering how I would ever live without them. You, my dear, are not alone.
 
Next, I do not believe you really want to know about my day ~ it is filled to capacity with homeschooling seven children, running a farm, cooking from scratch, etc., and I am at a point where I now wonder how people have time to watch television. I am on the other side of the spectrum from where you are now (and where I once was). I believe that what you are truly wondering about is what in the world YOUR day would be like without television/radio/etc. So I will attempt to answer from that perspective.

The first two questions are quick and easy to answer:

Internet is a tool that we have weighed and found to be enough of a benefit to our family that we allow it here. Not by default, "because everyone has one", but because we believe it to deliver a net gain (and not all technology does). Our computer is a servant for us to use, we are not at it's mercy.

• Our computer is double-filtered with Norton and BSafe filtering software, therefore, opportunities for evil uses of our computer have been greatly diminished.

• All adults in our family know how to examine the history files of internet use, and further, Bsafe keeps a back-up record of the same.

• Time limits, strictly adhered to, are a help if amount of time spent online is a concern.  Accountability is also a helpful tool. .

• We have our home page set to Blank, instead of AOL, MSN, or any other "news" sites. 

• Our children do not go online alone. Ever. Period. We are sitting with them at the computer screen at any time they are online.

• We do not allow the internet to be a "boredom buster". We don't go there just because there isn't anything else to do.

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Often we are met with incredulity from folks who find out that we have no television reception in our home, we do not listen to the radio, nor do we take the newspaper. Exactly two seconds before the revelation, had you asked one of these people if we seemed backwards, uninformed or out-of-touch with what is happening in the world, they would have answered, "No, of course not". Yet, immediately after discovering this fact about us, they ask, "Well, how do you keep up with what is happening in the world?"

Mr. Visionary, when faced with this challenge, will often ask a person to name five things (non sports-related) that they saw on the news last night, then to explain how their life profitted from acquiring that information. They cannot answer. When we discovered many years ago that we couldn't answer either, we purposely stepped out of the world of media influence. I remember the day I found out that Diana, Princess of Wales died ~ it was on the one year anniversary of the date. On September 11, 2001, I awoke after being up all night at the ER with Napoleon, to a call from a girlfriend about the morning's events. The first time I ever saw footage of the attacks was eight months later on a PBS documentary. I will make a bold statement here, that I believe my life is the better for not having been bombarded with the images of it at the time.

Last night, I could see in Mr. Visionary's eyes that something had happened during the day. Having to be out in the world four days a week, he is not as insulated from the media as me. Events at Virginia Tech hit fairly close to home for us ~ several family members claim it as their alma mater, and Mr. Visionary and I tell the children of our (mis)adventures spelunking in the caves around Blacksburg while dating.  When he showed me an online news article about the murders, my first thought was, "I wonder who will be sent over the edge by watching this?" Judge me if you must, but my first thought was not about the victims of the first crime, the murders, but the victims of the second crime, the besieging of homes with the images of the event.

As much as I desire to sermonize the effects of media overload (and I may one day), and fuss about it's resetting the shock and moral acceptability threshold, I will refrain and ask an important question. When assailed with the images, soundbites and emotional hoopla of the news...what will you do with the information? What is your plan for effecting change in regards to that which you are watching? My intention is not to be fatalistic, just realistic. To quote Neil Postman from his book Amusing Ourselves to Death, "In both oral and typographic cultures, information derives its importance from the possibilities of action. Of course, in any communication environment, input (what one is informed about) always exceeds output (the possibilities of action based on information). [snip] Thus, we have a great loop of impotence: the news elicits from you a variety of opinions about which you can do nothing except to offer them as more news, about which you can do nothing. "

At best, we can determine to pray for the families involved, for the police and for the students. But will we? Would it even be any more effective than, "God bless those strangers"? At worst, we will do nothing  ~ acting in complete apathy as if we had no knowledge of the tragedy. Somewhere in the middle is that state of fearful worry and helpless despair that dishonors our Father. By our willing involvement in the world of media, we allow it to dictate to us what our emotions should be. The television tells us when to be sad, when to despair, when we should feel guilty for our better circumstances. Why else would we "need" up-to-the-minute reporting if not to hold us spellbound in emotional upheaval?

I submit that, assuming we are even aware of the news, (which I am unwilling to concede is a need), it would be better to allow the Holy Spirit (rather than the news anchors) to lead us into action or intercession. Information for the sake of information is lunacy.  Knowing about all the problems in the world when you are incapable of changing them is a recipe for emotional turmoil. Yes, we need to be aware of the needs around us ~ for the sake of ministry. But when we know more about the war across the world than the needs across the street, why do we wonder at the sorry state of the world? We must be selective about where we spend our emotional and physical energy as well as our time.

Daniel prophesied that, in the last days, "...many shall run to and fro, and knowledge shall increase" (Daniel 12:4), and Proverbs warns about curiosity in that, "Death and destruction are never satisfied, and neither are the eyes of man" (27:20). My belief is that these verses apply to this state of media overload in which we live. It is always good to recognize where Scripture speaks to us. 

The question is, "What will we do with it?"

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Apparently efficiency has no relevance anymore. Effectiveness as well, has left the building.The concept that the Lord has methods rather than just loosely defined principles is no longer accepted, either.  From all appearances they have gone to the far country, never to return. They have been replaced by a new creature called simply, "ministry".

Let's think this through a bit with a few real life examples that I have experienced.  

A single Mom I knew needed clothes for her children, a saving relationship with Jesus, and similarly, a friend and mentor. Four women discussed her situation gossiped, decided to clean out their attics, sell their kids clothes at a yard sale, donate the proceeds to their church, then have the church cut the woman a check so that she could "buy her kids clothes". In this process, four separate women spent four days each cleaning out kids clothes, pricing items, making signs, and having a yard sale. By the end, they were exhausted, their families missed them, and they had pizza delivered because they were too busy "doing ministry" to make dinner.  Since the church mailed the check, there was no interaction, no gospel, no encouragement for a weary Mom, no friend, no mentor.  The surprise about why the Mom didn't come visit the church "after all they'd done for her" was shocking.

May I submit that if the Lord's methods were employed, efficiency and effectiveness would have gone hand in hand? Might I suggest that we just pack up the clothes, take some cookies and coffee over to the Mom, and share with her not only the clothes we have, but our relationship with our Lord?  Perhaps I am being too simplistic?

How about this one?  (Please forgive me if I rant.) Say the Lord gives you a heart to help young women with eating disorders. And say you have a friend that, after adopting a child from an unwed mother, desires to help unwed mothers. Following the world's plan for "ministry", the next logical step would be to enlist a board of directors, start a non-profit corporation, buy a 1.3 million dollar 49 acre, 9500 square foot property, and begin to drum up funds to "start a ministry". Buying high-dollar designer clothing and jewelery at wholesale to resell would be a great way to make money for your ministry. Encourage donors that their names would be printed in "all appropriate literature",  and engraved on the obligatory brick  to line the front Gratitude Walkway. When the funds are ready, acquire a full-time staff to include round-the-clock doctors and counselors, and the necessary food service, cleaning , grounds maintenance and administrative staff. With the whole 9500 square feet, you would be able to maintain a 12 bed facility. Think of it: twelve young women at one time would be "ministered to". All this for only 50 billion man-hours and a multi-million dollar budget each year. Incredible. This must be God.

While I remove my tongue from my cheek, please consider whether there might be a better way. Has anyone ever heard of, "He setteth the solitary in families"? Someone dear to me recently shared about this new ministry started by some mutual acquaintances and was perplexed over my quizzical stare. I was dumbfounded, and still am.

Is it just the uneducated side of me that thinks that these situations could be more lovingly and effectively handled within the context of a family taking in an unwed mother, allowing her to share in family life,  learning about how healthy families relate, learning child care...being loved?  I understand that the average family may not know how to handle eating disorders and counseling ~ but they could drive her somewhere, and they could listen. Simpler is better. God is not the author of bureaucracy. When the Lord gives us a burden for something, perhaps He wants us to personally do something about it.

That is, if we aren't too busy doing ministry.

[End of rant. We will now return to the regularly scheduled (but not regularly updated) blog.]

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Change is in the air. The grass is reappearing, leaves are budding, and the apple trees are in bloom. Although in some years the transformation  is more profound than others, this change never fails to come. He has promised that His seasons will remain. Spring in all its brilliancy will always displace the dark monotony of winter, and His timing is always perfect.  

This has been a particularly long winter for our family. While seeming tiring and tedious to our flesh, from a spiritual perspective it's conclusion comes not a moment too soon, nor a moment too late.  I know this because I know Him who has directed this season for His glory and my good. Mr. Visionary and I have endured a season of darkness this winter longer and quieter than any before. We have endeavored to leave off the scratching and striving of making our own way, for the seeking and searching involved in discovering His way for us. Claiming the promise that if we seek Him diligently, we will find Him, we were looking for the answer to the question that many have asked, "What's next after selling the farm?" We began the process of getting the farm ready to sell, in faith, not knowing what lay ahead.

The fog appears to be clearing for us. As the scales on our eyes are being removed layer by layer, several dreams and callings which had heretofore appeared unrelated are meshing into a picture. Just as many broken pieces are fit together by a skilled artist to form a beautiful mosaic, Father is piecing a mosaic in our life as well.  Our experiences, our trials and testings, our growth, our obedience (or lack thereof), and our desire to please and obey Him have all been used to bring us to this point of being prepared to hear His will for us in the next season.  

For several years now, our family has been feeling led to the mission field. At first I attempted to logically decipher the most practical destination for us in the field: I love sweet potatoes, barefooted children, and farming, and I was (once) fluent in French ~ French speaking Africa seemed tenable. It was a perfect match on the surface. As a matter of fact, I spent many hours as a newly-saved teenager studying Africa, and longing to be sent there. But, we believe that He would not send us somewhere that would contradict His other clear instructions. In order to be obedient to Father,  our family would have to minister together, so no boarding-school-Mom-and-Dad-working-separate-ministry-jobs positions. Many opportunities have presented themselves, but none that would meet our convictions about the family ministering as the unit He designed. So we waited ~ trusting that if it was His will, then the perfect door would open.

A door has opened. We have opportunity, desire in the Spirit, a trembling in the flesh, and a few steps that we can take now as we await confirmation of His will. There are many issues that Father will have to work out for us, if He desires for us to pursue this work. We will need help to get the farm on the market in a timely manner, as, in the flesh, it appears to be too much for just Mr. Visionary, the children and me to accomplish.  If this part works out, it will definitely be confirmation. At this point, we feel led to look into a different foreign language curriculum, continue to purge belongings, sell anything that is not bolted down, and acquire passports for every member of our family.

Never has walking in the Spirit been so necessary, or praying without ceasing so natural. We covet your prayers as we seek further confirmation of His will.

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It didn't happen by accident. But happen it did, and the transformation has been profound.  I'm not saying that I purposed for it to happen by any stretch of the imagination.  I assure you that it was truly far from my personal aspirations or even desires for that matter. And while a psychologist may call it assimilation, the  Southerner in me would attribute it to the old adage, "If you lie with the dogs, you're gonna get fleas". Mr. Visionary would have me to understand that a more accurate explanation is found in Scripture as, "He who walks with the wise grows wise".

I don't even like the stuff. Sure, it smells good, and I don't mind a whiff of it every now and then, but I've never been terribly interested in putting it near my lips. Yet, when I caught myself yesterday drinking black coffee from Mr. Visionary's cup, and enjoying it,  I knew I was done in. I can recognize a nail in a coffin when I see one: the old me was gone, never to return. Interestingly, I was thoroughly content with that revelation.   I know it didn't happen in the beginning, as I was too busy trying to assert my independence from and (shamefully) superiority over said Visionary. But gradually, imperceptibly even, over the last eighteen years as I began to truly know my man, I have become like him in ways I never would have imagined.

As I pondered all the myriad of ways I have "assimilated",  I have surprised myself with the completeness of the transformations. When I met Mr. Visionary, I loved milk chocolate; he loved dark chocolate. His coaxing and cajoling not only won me over to the dark side, but I now care only for extra dark chocolate. Milk chocolate is as reprehensible as a lick of the sugar bowl to me. There are other areas, some subtle, some overt, in which  I have taken on characteristics of  my visionary. Chocolate and coffee are just the ones the children giggle about the most.


Even without my active participation, just being with him, desiring to please him (i.e. always having some dark chocolate in the house), and enjoying fellowship with him, I have become like him. No striving, just assimilation.  I can't help but notice the similarities between my becoming like Mr. Visionary, and my becoming like my Lord. As I have been with Him, as I have desired to please Him (doing those things which bless His heart) , and as I have enjoyed sweet fellowship with Him, I have become more like Him. No striving, just assimilation. I can't think of a more natural way to become more like my husband...or my Husband.

Or to fall in love with them more.
 

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We are going to die. There is no question that it is going to happen. Before we die ourselves, we may have loved ones die before us. Our friends or family could also struggle with illness and disease. That should not come as a surprise to us. We know that traumatic things happen. We can recognize this as logical fact. Life is fleeting. And fleeing. Away.

Often in the aftermath of trauma, a person will pick themselves up by their bootstraps, and have a new lease on life as they boldly go on to bring about change in response to their circumstances. Some folks will start ministries, some will spend more time with the people they love. The mom who heads up a foundation to help children with the disease that took her child, the executive that cuts back to fewer hours after his first wife left, and the homeschool mom of a prodigal who learns to value relationship above academics ~ they all have something in common. They have learned.  They now know that life is too short to waste time on the meaningless drivel of striving in the world. Priority is newly placed on relationships rather than success. They value their time with their families and friends more now, after "what they've been through". This is a good and godly response to tragedy.

But I'm not willing to wait until tragedy comes. Knowing that there is no tomorrow pushes me to get back to basics today. I am scared not to. I am afraid with a godly fear of wasting the time I have been given ~ of not making the most of every opportunity the Lord places in my path. I am scared of not valuing the relationships with which Father has blessed me  appropriately. In the past few years, we have purposed to put a stake in the ground, and make changes ~ as many and as radical ~ as the Lord reveals in order to value what He values, and to live with eternity in view. Eternity is all that will matter, and we cannot go back and have a second chance. There is something very freeing about living with one's deathbed in mind. It will come soon enough anyway...and maybe sooner than we think.

If I could encourage you in anything, it would be this: ask Father to help you put to death any of Martha, and any spirit of worldliness that resides in you, and sit at His feet like Mary. Are there relationships that He is leading you to restore? I urge you to do it.  When relationships and the world collide, let there be no doubt of which side He is on. Listen to His voice and obey. Love people. Be real. Only one thing is needful. If our every idle word will be accounted, how much more so our actions?  "Therefore to him that knoweth to do good, and doeth it not, to him it is sin", James 4:17. Hard words, yes, but from a loving God ~ for our good.

Remember, God has many names, but one of them is not Practical Polly. All the what-if's or buts that come to our minds do not hail from His lips. Without making pretzels with God's word, sales, agendas, and goals have little place in His economy.Those things have more basis in our fleshly desires than in His revealed will, no matter how much we try to convince ourselves otherwise.  Ask me how I know. Fear of man, time pressures or any other excuse we mutter to excuse disobedience are not from Him, either. Those relationships He brings to mind may be the means He uses to minister back to us ~ if we will only heed His voice in obedient trust.

Repentance and forgiveness are good, but restoration is better.

Because one day it will be too late.

And that day may be soon.

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It all started when I killed my tiller. OK, so maybe it's not a mortal wound, but it doesn't exactly till, either. When the thingy that holds the roundy part in place fell completely off as  I rammed gently bumped the cinder blocks at the end of a row, I knew I was in trouble. 

Having been raised in the inner city, and knowing little about gardening that I didn't read in a book, I keep quiet and learn a lot from watching my friends. When I noticed two weeks ago that my friend-who-was-born-with-a-hoe-in-his-hand, had his garden turned over, the "Aha!" moment came, and I knew that it was the appointed time. I still couldn't tell you the last frost date for my area, so I'll listen and learn when to sow my collards, too. 

After killing breaking the tiller, my first thought was that my coveted outside time was over, and, after a winter's worth of being cooped up inside, this was no small matter. Crushed, I instantly started thinking of the steps involved in repairing the tiller: load up the tiller, spend half a day getting everyone shoed and jacketed, drive into town, find the part, escort seven children to a public restroom, then drag everyone home only to discover that I didn't get the right part. Then I was sure the broken part would cost thousands of dollars, have to be special ordered, take months to be delivered, and gardening season would be over before it ever got started at my house. 

Once I caught myself and called this thought process by it's rightful name, Worry, I repented, and began to look for the bright side of not having the tiller available. My garden is not terribly labor-intensive, anyway. It is a raised-bed (read that: very soft soil) Square Foot (read that: very tiny) garden. I could always  just turn over the soil with a hoe. Even though tilling was kinda fun, it was still a little more like breaking a wild pony than I preferred. So this would be an enjoyable form of exercise with immediate tangible results (read that: instant gratification).

Anyway, I am the girl who is always lamenting about the ridiculous ironies in our culture. What sense does it make to get a desk job, determined to 'not work as hard as my parents did', then buy a riding lawnmower because you don't have time to cut grass, then a health club membership to 'get some exercise'?  It is like simultaneously running the air conditioner to cool air on a hot sunny day and the clothes dryer to heat air. Or driving to the park to take a walk. Or sending Momma to work to be able to pay for private schooling and convenience meals (and therapy because of the stress). Simpler is better.

So I pulled out my hoe.

About half-way through my methodical hand turning of the garden I started to wish I had never been so smug regarding the aforementioned inconsistencies. At our house, you lose any right to fuss about stuff that you aren't doing something about (read that: Don't talk the talk if you aren't willing to walk the walk). Just as I determined to suck it up and smile my way through to the end, Mr Visionary showed up with the exact piece needed to repair the tiller. When he had the thing perfectly fixed and tested in less than five minutes, I knew two things. First, my worrying had been way out-of-hand. The piece cost $.68, and was easily picked up on a routine errand while Mr. Visionary was already in town. Second,much as I would have liked to should finish it by hand,  I would have go against my high ideals resigned determination and use the tiller to finish the garden.

After all, I wouldn't want to offend Mr. Visionary.

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When the clock read 9:21 this morning...

Flower Child: "It's really 8:21 in the morning."

Flower Child: "But it's 9:21a.m. under Communism."



The girl is right ~ I hate Daylight Saving Time, too.

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Where I come from, "It's snowing down South", is the common phrase to communicate to a woman that her slip is showing below the hem of her dress.  As grateful as one certainly is after receiving such information, it is still rather disconcerting to realize that the thing has crept down on you without your knowledge. Life is like that sometimes, though. Just like that undergarment that quietly slides when our attention is elsewhere, we slip into patterns of living that honestly, are just boring and without life. Survival mode on auto pilot becomes the norm as we lead lives of quiet desperation, not knowing what it is that is missing.

After becoming convinced that the Lord wanted to do a work in us regarding the mortgage, I didn't wait until a great "talking moment" to cautiously mention it to Mr. Visionary. I did not bait him with a, "By the way, I have something big I want to talk over with you" set up. But one day, when I was kissing him goodbye, I whispered that I'd be perfectly happy if he wanted to sell this house and move to Nowheresville and live debt-free. If this was the Lord's will, I believed He would speak to Mr. Visionary and confirm what I had heard. The Lord I know, although He uses means, and often does speak through people, did not need my help. Anyway, this was not about getting he and I on the same page. It is about each of us being on God's page.

It was the spark he needed for the Lord to kindle his smoldering embers into a burning desire again. Mr. Visionary was no happier than I was about the way life was going. He, too felt that there was something more that the Lord had for us than just existing, but he was trying to do what he thought the family needed. I knew that a Visionary any man (or woman for that matter) who is not actively pursuing the dreams and calling the Lord has given him is dying.  I had forgotten...but the Lord had not.

That one statement, or rather, the Lord's confirmation of it, freed my Mr. Visionary. Newly reminded that I was on his side, that I had his back, and was prepared to follow him wherever the Lord leads, Mr. Visionary began to hear, and the dreams began to flow. He has been working on plans for a new house that will be off-grid, with himself working at home, because he truly believes it is God's will. The moving and  being debt-free are all means to the end of having Dad back home where he belongs ~ where God originally put him.

All I want is to follow the Lord with my husband and children. I believe He has a work prepared for our family to do as a unit. Culture Smulture. The Lord never intended for Daddies to be away from their families all day (or night for that matter). He never meant for Mammas to raise the children alone all day, either. Not a homeschool-friendly statement, I know ~ but it is true.  I have had folks argue this point with me from a cultural perspective or a 'practical' one, but a truly biblical case cannot be made to refute this. I know this because I have read about the Garden ~ Adam and Eve were together by design.

Father brought this woman and this man together because He wanted us to BE together. Father put these children into this family because He wanted them to be raised by the two of us together.  We only have one opportunity to raise the sheyna kepelahs (pretty heads) the Lord has given us. That is freedom, not pressure. Focusing on how we want ourselves and our children to have a rich relationship with Him ~ to KNOW Him, makes it easier to slough off all the extraneous baggage of life and get back to basics.   Knowing that He leads us to want to do His will and then to do it, means that we don't have to worry about how it will happen.

We can trust that if He leads us to something, He will lead us through it as well.

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I was walking along, minding my own business, when it happened. Two Autumns ago, during my early morning driveway walk, I had my two partners: my gun (because of lions, tigers and bears) and my Walkman. The day in question, I happened to be listening to a Jonathan Lindvall tape ~ nothing unusual there, I often listen to a tape or music on my walks. I like to listen to something on the second lap so I can hear something besides my own loud breathing. It is a golden opportunity to listen to my choice of music at my choice of decibel, which at almost all other times are outvoted by the rest of the family. But I digress. 

On said tape, Mr. Lindvall was discussing how he and his wife felt led to get completely out of debt , to include having no mortgage, and went on to discuss their method of achieving exactly that. Upon the first listen, I smugly dismissed the idea as super-spiritual, unnecessary, and not a possibility anyway, thank-you-very-much. We had just moved to this farm that spring, and had gutted, remodeled and added on to this house to make it just what we wanted. This house and farm were, for all intents and purposes at the time, my dream.

Enter the Holy Spirit. After several days of being either too lazy or too hurried (I will not disclose which), to get a new tape on my way out the door , I was stuck listening to said tape for about two weeks in a row. As I listened and argued with the tape day after day, the Holy Spirit nudged. Mr. Visionary was working five very long days at the time, and in truth, we never saw him. Saturdays were spent doing farm work from sunup until after dark, and Sundays were spent on church and naps (to help make up for the other six days), hence weekends were gone in a blink. I wanted my husband back, and we all wanted our family back. I was beginning to see that the mortgage had to go.

In the meantime, the Lord was also revealing to us a new dream ~ that of being able to have enough land to give to our children to help start them off better than we were started. Since our current farm is only fifteen acres, this dream would involve having a much larger chunk of property. And moving. I tried to remind the Holy Spirit that I had previously, proudly and loudly announced that I would not move from this house unless the Lord called us on the mission field. He replied with a question, "Did you get that from ME, or was that your big idea?" My wanting it to be the Lord's idea didn't count. It never does.

Providentially, the housing market in our area has skyrocketed. Our house is now worth twice what we paid for it three years ago, which is good news and bad news. We can sell it, and make enough to buy property debt-free...but not around here. We will need to move across the country to find land inexpensive enough, unless the Lord intervenes. We are praying for an opportunity to find land in our same state, as Mr. Visionary is an only child of aging parents, and my family has just this summer migrated back  to the same state for the first time in fifteen years (and who knew cousins could be so much fun!).

So, we're working toward getting our house finished (with a schedule like ours was, there was never time to finish all the remodeling), and putting it on the market this Summer, and saying goodbye to a mortgage forever. What happens next is in His hands. It is our goal...our dream, if you will. But the real goal is to always listen and obey what the Lord's will is for us. Speak, Lord, for your servants heareth...

Use the Walkman if necessary.




*I don't expect to agree with every detail of everyone to whom I listen. Use the Grocery Store Approach to Jonathan Lindvall, take what you can use, leave the rest. I don't necessarily condone everything he ever says, but I don't discount it outright, either. Remember the Bereans SEARCHED the Scriptures DAILY. We should as well.

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I know practical. I am a boring, no nonsense kinda gal. Although I can usually get the job done, there is often much to be desired in my fleshly modus operandi. I assess the bottom line and trudge in headlong without noticing or caring about the people in the process. But I am learning ~ or rather, the Holy Spirit is teaching me that every step in the journey IS the journey. And practical is not always best. 

I like need order, too.  I used to think I was a control freak, and, while not discounting that completely (Mr. Visionary made me say that), I have learned that most some of this is just the way I am wired. I can't handle visual cacophony with my mental processing ability intact (I can't think in a mess). All of that is to say that I like things neat. Even with seven children, this desire has not abated. It hasn't materialized either, but that is another matter.

My old method in getting the girls to clean up their room was to come in and elbow-to-elbow with them, help them find order, fussing all the while, focusing more on the job than the little hearts. Partial enlightenment came, and I changed this method to: "If you can't keep it cleaned up, you can't keep it". That wasn't being mean, just...(here's that word again)...practical. If they couldn't keep it clean, they must have had too much stuff, so I'd help them get rid of stuff. Originally this method was met with weeping and gnashing of teeth, but over time, as they realized they never missed the extra stuff, the girls came to love getting rid of more stuff. It really was easier, they found.

But there are times now, even with very little clutter, that it is still a burdensome task for them to keep things orderly. Through praying for an idea to help my ladies, the Lord led me to a plan that blesses them even more than my help with the cleaning (although they still welcome this act of service). I came in today following the usual plan, "When the timer goes off, whatever is not in it's place goes in the bag", when the Lord whispered to me to rearrange the furniture. Huh? I didn't really get it, but I obeyed.

I made a few little changes here and there, only moving pieces that Mr. Visionary would approve of our moving without his help. A new doily, a new plant, and some of my Valentine's roses...and my girls were blessed. Oh, so blessed. It inspired them to feel good about their room, it encouraged their femininity, and if not giving them a new lease on life , then at least a new lease on their day. Smiling and encouraged, they flitted about, making their own changes, adding their own new touches, and the whole matter was concluded in half the time as usual.

These are good girls who sometimes get weighed down by their burdens. I don't need to add to it by being so practical. (C'mon, Mom, remember what it feels like. Weren't you feeling this way just yesterday?) Dawn is right, people and relationships  really are more important than everything else.

Thank you Lord, for letting blind eyes see... One. Moment. At. A.Time.

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During a too-quiet-for-comfort moment this afternoon, Doodle was discovered scaling Mr. Visionary's bedside refrigerator, atop which is a month's supply small stash of dark chocolate.

Flower Child: 'Doodle, what are you doing?'

Doodle: 'I'm keeping myself interested.'

Flower Child: 'Well, you need to get down before I tell Mom. You know you're not allowed up there.'

Doodle: 'Well, what do you expect? Literary Lady wasn't watching me.'


I'm afraid I see politics in this child's future.

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 I am always, no...frequently reminded by Mr. Visionary that I never see the good in a situation. After almost 17 years of marriage and many circular conversations, I have learned to not argue this point . My casually mentioning the fact that said visionary does not allow extremist words from myself the antagonist, as these words are inaccurate black and white descriptions of pictures dappled with black, white and (gasp) grey, can be risky.  Anyways, he's right. So I am making a concerted effort to discipline myself to see clearly 'whatever things are lovely' in my daily life. Hence the new category I have added, 'Seeing The Good'.

I had my first opportunity to put the category (and the hopefully de-scaled eyes) into use this morning. Our family is in the middle-to-end of our second stomach virus since the first of the year. Last night, as we realized that  Little Napoleon had yet to succumb, we planned to keep him home from church with Mom, who is currently enjoying the virus, 'just in case'. We awoke to find that during the night, that when the virus began it's work on Little Napoleon, that the Engineer woke up with him, put N in E's bed, and read Amelia Bedelia to him. Further down the hallway, Literary Lady was awake, and no doubt led by the delights of fine literature read aloud,  checked on the boys. She got a hot water bottle for N, tucked them both in, and went back to bed. Neither the Mommy nor Mr. Visionary were any the wiser until daybreak.

My children care for one another. They serve one another sacrificially, and they do it with a happy heart. Do they fight? Of course. Do they want to strangle each other at times? More times than I would like to deal with. But they also love deeply. And it is lovely.

Thank you , Lord, for eyes to see.

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It was a sucker punch.

Sneaking up out of nowhere, December grabbed me from behind, clobbered me and threw me to the ground. Too stupid to land on my knees, I landed on my feet and tried to keep going. Staggering, barely able to catch my breath, and with my vision impaired, I was determined to keep going. I had my seventh baby in September, and was adjusting well (at least I had the appearance of such). I made it through Thanksgiving, not exuding grace, by any means, but at least I made it. Although I am not sure exactly what it was I was trying to accomplish, I knew could do this. The Lord could count on me.

Or so I thought.

Waking up New Years's morning with a stomach virus was the best thing that could have happened to me. Even better was that Mr. Visionary and I came down with it simultaneously - I couldn't get mad  at him for not 'getting me out of this mess'. Flat on our backs for almost three days with seven children to care for, we were in a position to do nothing but trust the Lord and allow our friends to take care of things for us. Humbled does not even begin to describe my position. It was the introduction of a rich, but painful season of the Lord dealing with me about the lie of self-sufficiency and the fruitlessness of determining my own goals. Enter January where I have spent much time in absolute meltdown, surveying the carnage in the wake of one bad month. My laundry and home were a piece of cake in comparison to the relationship damage that had been done in one short season. Wondering why 'the Lord' has me in such a difficult season of having so much on my plate, I have been doing much praying...and eventually...listening.

It is amazing sometimes how complicated things can become when your goal is to 'get back to basics' or to 'live simply'. It amazes me more how I can so quickly point a finger at my Lord and question His plan. But all things work together for good, and even my questioning was an instrument in His hand. Or more aptly, His answer was. Whether or not this journey started out as something we were led to by the Lord, it had evolved into something far divergent. I've recently had the opportunity to see have my eyes opened to how foolish my lifestyle and fleeting my goals had become.

 As I laid before Him a list of everything that was on my plate, truly desiring to hear from Him about each line item, conviction fell in the form of hot,  sobbing tears in recognition of the 'wretched man that I am'. I wish I could say that I held high my list upon open palms and allowed His Spirit to blow away the extraneous items like chaff. I did not. My flesh fought hard to justify why each thing just 'had' to be done, that this was what 'good ____ (Christians, mothers homesteaders...) did'. And yet...I kept hearing Him say, 'I never gave you that. I never gave you that, either. As a matter of fact, I never gave you that, that, that, or that... Only one thing is needful. Only. One.'

Exactly how does one wage war against a still small voice?

Spiritually I had become deaf, dumb, and blind in many areas. But once again, His grace made a way for me to come home. I experienced the truth of Acts 3:19 anew, 'Repent, then, and turn to God, so that your sins may be wiped out, that times of refreshing may come from the Lord'. Peace and rest in Him are beautiful things. Recently I've learned they are the only things.

Now you know where I have been. I wish it didn't take so long for the Lord to get through to me each time, but I'll take that over not getting through any time. I'll be explaining in more detail some of what Father has shown me recently, and hopefully, some of the lifestyle changes I am making in obedience to Him. I hope you will be blessed and encouraged in the area of listening only to Him...

Because only one thing is needful. 

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The waters are troubled. A deep, quiet bubbling…churning…boiling…in the secret places of my heart is the cause of an ache that is yearning to be soothed. There are questions longing for answers, my spirit’s burden longing to be lifted. I struggle to hear His voice, to know with certainty that His will is as I believe it to be.  Only by grace could I obey this voice, just as it is by grace that I think I am hearing…

 
I recently read several reviews of a book, (here and here), perusing them without a blip on my radar. The time had not yet come, apparently. After an experiment this December with an uncharacteristic-for-us frantic schedule, I was drained. Road weary and battle-scarred, I felt as if our spirits had been assaulted through the constant running…going…hurrying. While we were yet sinners, he died for us…and while we were yet striving He spoke to us. In the midst of the commotion, an acquaintance loaned us the same book. It’s time had come…and I was ready.

Only one other book, Stepping Heavenward by Elizabeth Prentiss, has ever affected me even remotely as profoundly. (You mean, it is normal to not be perfect overnight, and that sanctification is a process?) My reading of Henry and the Great Society left me alternating between weeping violently, worshipping passionately, but more often a chorus of both. Confirmation to me of how well my Father knows me and the deepest cries of my heart, I was relieved, oh, so relieved…so delivered from a burden that I had been carrying. One that I had been carrying for so long that my only notice of it was a whispered doubt that, “This is not the way God meant for me to live”. 

 
Henry is a normal guy with whom we journey into his entrance and entrapment in the “Great Society”.  Based on 1Timothy 6:6-21, his story is woven to show us that the subtle-but-sure lies of Satan in the Garden are still at work to destroy us. The book assumes that most of those who read the message will not “get it” (without eyes to see), and of those that do, most will change nothing (hearers but not doers), so don’t be alarmed if you come away wondering what all they hype is about. Mr. Visionary had me order a case of them to pass out, and I am expecting to get that reaction almost exclusively. But for that one…or two…the exceptions…it could be life-changing.

 
If you are intrigued, you may order Henry and the Great Society from Cumberland Books. After you read the story of Henry, go back and study the chapters that follow ~ and have your Bible handy. No matter your opinion of the author’s brief mention of the Rapture, the rest is gold, and much food for thought. And prayer. Gut-wrenching prayer. 

 
Now I am convinced that the nagging fear that I was the problem (this is not intended to discount my sin nature), that my failures to function ‘just like everyone else’ was false. My years spent trying to find ways to make it work are over. By His grace, I know that the system itself is flawed. And I for one ~ am getting out.

 
I don’t yet know how…or what this will look like fleshed out, but by His grace, I and mine are getting out of the rat race…

 
Show me what it looks like, Lord.

Note: An MP3 version of the first few chapters can be heard here.

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I surely would have thought the days of women swooning were over. What with the 1960’s having done their upheaval and corsets, too, being a thing of the distant past, fainting was, in my humble opinion, only for the overly dramatic. Recent events however, have caused me to rethink my position.

Not having bounced back from this stomach virus quite as quickly or as well as Mr. Visionary and the children, my felt need was rest. Still quite dizzy upon standing, I was hoping to be horizontal most of yesterday, and school was conducted from Mom’s bed.  Queasiness was making the thought of preparing food less-than-delightful, so when our dear friend (who is now even dearer) Miss Elizabeth brought us soup for lunch, my gratefulness to her and the Lord abounded.

Lunch over, and naptime graciously looming on the horizon, a knock at the door alerted me that perhaps my plans were changing. Greeted by a large mass of raw-and-dripping meat, I learned that Old Mr. Clark had been hunting.  His I-come-bearing-gifts grin alerted me that perhaps I should delegate the ‘stroll on over to the back of the truck’ to the boys. Neighborliness having gotten the better of me, I helped him hang our gift-deer in the woodshed and managed to stomach a few instructions about how to proceed from here, all the while purposing to not look the thing in the mouth.

After watching the Flower Child scratch the horns and coochie-coo at this dangling dead deer, I knew I needed to call in reinforcements. A frantic plea to Mr. Visionary to get home speedily, a cold washcloth to my face, and a parenting-by-speaker-phone conference with Dad and the boys to “not talk about it to Mom” were stop-gap measures to tide me over until said help arrived. With instruction from Old Mr. Clark, Dad and the kids skinned the deer after dinner, but the rest (cutting, packing) was left until this morning. Before breakfast.

There’s been a lot of under-the-breath muttering in my house recently. When Mr. Clark left, I was reminding myself that ‘the blessings of the Lord, it maketh rich, and he addeth no sorrow with it’.  When I pined for that nap that was not to be, I repeated, “…as thy days, so shall thy strength be”. Overheard just this morning: “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me…I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me… I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me…all things. ..I can do this…I can do this…even (gulp) this…”

Before leaving, Old Mr. Clark mentioned one last thing,"If any strangers show up and leave you deer, I sent 'um. I told four or five of my buddies that y'all wanted venison".

Suddenly even those last nine pounds of pregnancy weight seem surmountable.

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