A Straight Part

I woke up to the sound of bath water running. That got me moving fast! I popped my head in the bathroom to find #2 son and my daughter in the tub.

"Mommy, you just said we couldn't take a bath alone in the mornings! There is two of us here!"

Ok. I guess. It sure got me out of bed fast!

Later on, Daddy combed out my daughter's waist length hair. It was an early morning out the door, so having to do hair was not an expected job. Later on, I checked his work, and took her back up to braid her hair. In a loose pony tail, it will be a mess by evening, and we need to go out this evening.

While I took her hair down and began to quickly do it, I told her, "You need to tell Daddy next time he does your hair that he needs to get a straight part first. Then it looks better."

She wrinkled her face at me in the mirror and said, "But I have a straight part. My finger is straight, and my legs, too. My arms are straight, too, unless I bend them."

#2 has his birthday today! He turns 11. They are getting way too big.

What To Say?

I need you all praying.

I have a woman here at my house to ask me what I think about her marrying a man from another culture. I am not too excited about the idea, and the more I listen to details, the less I think it is a good idea. But how to say that?

Pray for me. I'm going to take her out for breakfast tomorrow and be as honest as I know how to be gently. It will be her choice and her responsibility, but I need to be able to honestly share with her what I see.

Pray. I don't like to hurt people. I'd like to say only good things, positive things that make people happy. I like making people happy. Tomorrow's talk likely won't make her happy. But I need to be able to do it.

Thanks.

Ephesians 6

I listen to the kid's memory work at school, and they have been slogging through Ephesians 4-6.

First and second graders.

I am compiling their mistakes. But so far, Ephesians 6 has been hard to keep a straight face on.

"Children obey your parents in the Lord for this is right. Honor your father and your mother which is the first commandment with promise, that you might last awhile on the earth."

Yep. This kid has the fear of his parents drilled into him!

Then came a shy little girl who isn't the brightest bulb in the batch, but she tries so hard! She's adorable.

This was her version: "Honor your father and your mother......

I helped her, ".....which....."

She scrunched her face this way and that, shrugged, and finally said, "All I can remember is "which leads to debauchery"."

This morning, we had moved on to verse four.

Two kids gave me this version:

"Fathers, do not expire your children but bring them up in the structure of the Lord."

Still, my favorite was the kid who quoted:

"Children, do not exasperate your fathers....."

Amen, kid!

A Good Laugh

Even God knows that I enjoy a good joke.

My daughter, who is a bit of a thinker, but not melancholic at all, has been thinking about life, sin, salvation, and Jesus' death. She's a bit worried about the salvation issue.

"Mommy, I know I have asked Jesus to forgive me, but I have to keep doing it because I forget that I did it!"

I've tried explaining that God does have a better memory than she does, but it hasn't helped. I've just told her that God won't mind her asking again, but it likely isn't necessary. And I'm fine with her talking it over and thinking about it more.

So today, she was trying to understand about sin and punishment. She was trying to wrap her mind around the fact that if you sin, you die... but Jesus paid that... so if we ask Him to forgive us, do we die? How does that work?

I started to explain about the two types of death - physical and spiritual... and this is how it went:

Well, girlie, there are two types of death

I know.

You do? Can you tell me those two types?

Well - one type of death is when you can't hear, and the other type is when you die.

(Here muffled giggles came in from her brothers, but I shushed them. The topic was too important to be distracted from, although I am glad I was driving and facing away from her!)

No, not really. One type of death is when your body dies, that is right, but the other type is about your spirit. It is when your spirit dies or is separated from God forever.

Then.... well... what is it called when you can't hear?

Deaf. Not Death.

Oh...
And on the conversation went. What I am wondering is - we have a large deaf population in our church - what has she been thinking we are calling them?!

The Problem with Believing

OK - let me put a disclaimer on this that I am really feeling down, and life has not been easy here recently and doesn't look like it is getting better. So if you want to keep believing that missionaries are anywhere near close to perfect or even near the ball park, please don't read this.

I don't understand God at times, and that is hard on me. There are days that I really enjoy God and see what He is doing and am thrilled. Then there are days like the last few days. Rough ones.

And general rough days, I can take. Or rough days where we all suffer together and it just seems like God is short on answers. It is days like my ones recently that are hard and leave me staring up at God and asking what is wrong with me. It is the days that it seems like everyone else's prayers are being answered in wonderful ways, and you stand there with empty hands.

There are some great things happening. One of our coworkers got healed from a pretty scary sickness. Another may have just found the perfect house. We even got a stay of execution for a decision that looked impossible just last night. Yes, I'm thankful for all this. Really.

Even my prayers are being answered. A huge concern for me the last two years as I worked on a project was that I needed three women for this thing to work, and there were only two. And it is not something that we can just go out and "find" one. An impossible thing to find. Yet, I prayed, and felt it was best to write for three. And I wrote. Last week, we found one, and she is delighted. Tonight, I sat with her and started her on her first assignment. (Sorry, can't tell much more.) And it is amazing - nothing short of a miracle, and I am stunned by God's ability to answer prayer.

Yet it is that same ability to answer difficult prayers that has me sitting here tonight staring at my computer screen wishing for an answer. Because I have other difficult prayers tonight that are not being answered. And I am hurting and begging God to answer, but He is not.

That is hard for me.

I want Him to step in and save the day, to ride in on His white horse and be a hero. I want Him to stop the pain. And He isn't.

It hurts.

It hurts because I am hurting and I am not seeing Him respond to stop it. I want Him to. I want Him to tell me, "you are so valuable to me that I don't want this to keep happening to you." I want Him to protect me, to care for me, to stop the pain. And He doesn't.

I'm struggling with that right now.

I'm actually not doing so great with the struggling part. I would think it would be more accurate to say that I'm floundering, stuck in heavy mud. I'm tiring from it.

A month ago, my husband got really angry with me again. There was a brief statement from him of, "let's stop fighting", but no real solution. And last week, he was again angry and yelling at me. I'm really tired of being yelled at.

I married a man from a different culture. I really don't feel like telling everyone from where. I know half of you would jump on me. Besides I can't put that on my blog. And I don't want him judged as harshly as people might if they knew his culture. But, it is still true that it deeply affects our marriage. I feel so often like I am a second class citizen. I am not valued.

It hurts. And today, I am trashing myself for it. Telling myself that you made that decision, now live with it. It may just be my life. I am tired of fighting over it. I know that if I am just silent, don't ask questions, don't talk, don't do anything wrong, that there will be a measure of peace. But that peace feels strangely like a prison.

Tonight, I'm tired. I'm sad. I'm sort of stuck in the mud. And I'm so tired of being told I have no value that I am ready to agree with it only to get some peace. Especially when today I see God answering prayers for others, even for what I do, but not for who I am. Not the prayers that deeply affect me.

Do I still believe? Yes. Is that said with great feeling and enthusiasm? No. It is said with the sad resignation of knowing that I can't dictate to God, that I don't understand it all, and yet that there isn't anything better, no better hope than Him. He's not stepping in where I am begging Him to, and yet I have nothing better than Him. So I believe. Still. But I am sad.

So, I need you all praying for me. With me. I know that there are some of you out there who I know and whose names and blogs are familiar to me. I've found that there are a few quiet watchers, too. That's fine. Don't feel you have to stand up and identify yourselves. I understand the feeling of just wanting to stand back and watch at times. But pray.

Then... to complicate things... this weekend, I have a lady coming to visit me to ask me one thing - should she marry a guy she has been dating, if he asks, who is from a similar culture. Hmmm... I want to tell her what I think, and tell her strongly. But I haven't figured out how to tell the truth and not disrespect my husband. How to tell her the truth in a way she will listen. And when. Pray for that. It is really not helping my mood at all.

So - I began with a disclaimer, and I will end with one: I still believe God is alive and working in my life. I do, even though I am in tears in front of Him asing how much more. I do love my husband. I do, even though I am tired of being treated of less value. I do deeply love the country and people I am working for. I do, even though their pain is at times hard for me to carry since it hits a bit too close to home at times. I do thoroughly support the team and mission I am working in. I consider it an honor to work with them. I do, even though I am fully aware that my team leader and my husband talk about me behind my back and have said some pretty cruel things. I have a heart for women who are hurting. I do - I just wished I wasn't hurting, too. I wish I could be that nice leader on solid ground on the grassy edge of this mud pit saying, "come over here", and not the one struggling in the mud with people trying to say, "despite all that is happening, I know that there is a God, and I will keep crying out to Him."

It is just that today, my cries are getting weak, my heart is sore, and I am tired. I need others today to come and cry with me for an answer.

Is This Hope?

My friend, who is also on that committee, met me today. We talked. We grabbed another member and talked some more. We felt that the right channels were not taken. We have two similar situations which are being dealt with totally differently. That was a concern. Also that this decision is supposed to be made by this committee, not this committee informed of it - fact done.

It was a bit frightening, but we had to move fast. The decision was going to be told to the person involved this afternoon. So we met, and we went to the person who made the decision and objected. It was taken well, and the decision has been "unmade". Perhaps. At least it is not going to be told until we call an emergency meeting and discuss it.

Is this hope? I wish it were. Yet, I doubt it. The mind of the person in charge is firmly made up. I wish it were hope. I'm trying to hope without getting too hopeful. I am crying out to God to act here, to step in and change this decision is that is His will. But to be brutally honest, I'm praying without much faith because my life has been so tough recently that I look up at God with exhaustion and a slightly stunned disappointment... and then I ask Him again to act, but I'm already discouraged. Yet, I do ask. Sometimes God answers, and other times... those times I have a hard time with right now. Yet I ask. I know He can.

But, even if the decision won't change, perhaps we can soften it. At the very least, we do not have to crush someone right before Easter.

And, I feel some slight victory, some slight worth in standing up for what we believed in and being able to change, at least temporarily, action.

Sad

There is not much more I can say. I'm on a committee, and we made a decision - or shall I say, a decision was made, as it was made not by us, but we were informed that it was made. (I thought that was the responsibility of this committee, so I am baffled by being told it as opposed to being able to discuss it.) But it is made, and it is final.

I can't talk about it yet, but it will become known over the next few days/weeks.

I'm sad about the decision. I understand it, but I am sad. It means a good-bye, and I am sad about it.

That is all I can really say. Even that is likely not allowed. But that is all I am saying.

I'm sad.

Another goodbye. And likely someone I care about will have their feelings hurt. I'm sad.

Only During Service - Baptism Sunday

Four people got baptized yesterday in church. My daughter was very excited since she couldn't remember any baptism and wondered what it was. Son #3 tried to show off how much he knew since he had seen one once. Son #2 hit the chair, and closed his eyes and was out cold. He has this thing about drifting off any time it is remotely quiet.

After the preaching, the pastor invited all the kids to come up front and sit on the floor so they could see better. I went with mine.

Our church thoroughly believes in reproduction, so there was quite the crowd of little kids with no parental control at the front. Here was the conversations:

"Hmm.. I thought they're supposed to hold them down longer."

"Why do they wear blue dresses?" (robes)

"I think because they don't want to wear their swim suits in front of church"

"And I guess they didn't want to go naked, either."

Then the last one came to be dunked - a girl who is over six feet tall.

Exclamations of astonishment broke out among the gathered children.

"Wow! She won't fit!"

"How can they fit her in the water?"

"Her feet are going to stick out!"

All I could do was sit there and try not to giggle.

Then, after church, we learned something about our new baptistry. It was installed with a turn drain at the bottom. Easy to fill, but we discovered that the only way to drain it is to get down in it and turn that drain. Great. And the pull down screen does not cover the tank at any time.

A few of us sat there and tried with a broom handle and scratched out heads. Then I said, "this is what boys are for." and called my second son, stripped him down to the waist, and hung him in upside down by his jeans. It took him two tries to find it, but he got it! And the whole church watching while they had coffee applauded.

Next baptism, last one in undoes the drain! Or we bring a change of clothes for our divers.

Still, I told him - you're only going near water because I have a firm grip on you!

My Son's Version

I thought you'd get a kick out of this. I heard my son tell his version to his brother.

So, I got up early and went and woke up my sister and asked if she wanted to take a bath with me, but she said no. So I filled the tub and asked her again, and she said no. (Child - it was 6 AM!) So I told her if she changes her mind, just come in.

I went and soaked for a long time, and used Daddy's shampoo, and then put conditioner on my hair and rinsed that. Then I put more conditioner on my hair and the special smelling soap (OK - let me mention that his hair is all of half an inch long) and then I rinsed the back and turned over to rinse the front.

I heard the bathroom door open and someone say something, but I thought it was just my brother coming in to use the bathroom, so I just kept rinsing my hair. Then suddenly, out of nowhere, someone grabbed me and pulled me right out of the water, ahhh! that was scary! I almost had a heart attack- and then I saw it was mom, and she looked all funny, sort of grey, and I was really scared, like what was wrong with her?

I guess when you think about his view - relaxing in the tub, and suddenly, without warning being grabbed and yanked out... It could be scary. Especially if you get the water cleared from your eyes, and your mom is half-bent over clutching her chest. Poor kid.

He recovered faster and thought the thing was funny. Seriously, I almost had to take the day off and just sit. It took that much energy out of me! I went to bed with the kids and slept 11 hours now.

I'm Still Recovering!

My third son might be well known for saying things when he shouldn't, but my second son has another specialty - terrifying his mother.

This morning started off like most. I woke up to noises telling me my second was up moving. He is a morning person in a family of night owls. I got up and found he had filled the tub with hot bubbly water and wanted to take a soak in the tub. No problem.

I wandered downstairs to sit by the fireplace and try to orient myself to the fact that the sun was thinking about coming up. I must have drifted back off, and woke later to find that 45 minutes had passed. I wondered, "What has happened to that kid? He ought to be done by now." A tiny cold worry started in the back of my mind... he often drifts back to sleep when he wakes to lie by the fire and warm up... what if he fell asleep in the tub?

I quickly walked up to the bathroom, and opened the door. No response.

I stuck my head in and said, "hey, are you alive in there?" No response.

Then, I took two quick steps across, pulled the shower curtain back, and there he was - floating face down in a full tub. I screamed, "God, no!" and reached to grab him and turn him over. He was cold. The water was cold. My heart dropped, and I flipped him over.

And he shook his head, looked up at me and asked, "What mom? I'm rinsing the front of my hair!"

Ah... I sank back against the counter trying to breathe...

Then he looked up and said, "Mom? Are you going to be alright?"

No more baths! Only showers. I can't go through this again! (He is almost 11, so he is old enough to take a bath without me standing there, but not again!)

He did this once before. I had three in the tub, and came to take one out, and was dressing him in the bedroom next to the bathroom while chattering with the two in the tub, telling them to say "turtle" (a favorite word at the time). My second was two and a half, and the other one was four, so I figured they won't drown while I throw a diaper on the baby - not while I'm talking to them.

But on one round of "turtle, turtle", there was no "turtle" from number two. I poked my head around the corner, and there was no head over the top of the tub, so I called his name as I covered the short distance of the bathroom. No response. Then I saw him - floating face up in the tub, face out of the water, but eyes open. I screamed him name again, and not a flicker of response in those wide open eyes. Then I grabbed him, and it was the same thing - he shook his head, yawned, and wanted to know why I woke him up. He falls asleep in seconds when he is tired! And he sleeps with his eyes wide open.

But, I would have thought, at almost eleven, I could let him take a bath... nope. No more baths. I can't live through it again.