May 9, 2009 by pamela ♥.

our daughters… and me

I’m in awe…with more than I could ever have asked or imagined.


my mother, mother-in-love and me

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May 9, 2009 by pamela ♥.

Happy Mother’s Day

Thank you, Mama, for the gift of my life,
for the years of sacrifice
and love you have given on my behalf.
Thank you for you. 

I celebrate *you* today, Mother…  I thank the Lord for the blessing you are and have been to me.  I pray He will bless you with faith, with love, with peace, with health, with hope and with joy today. Thank you for the blessing you are to me, to my husband and our children. 

with love, pamela

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May 8, 2009 by pamela ♥.

A Mother Worthy of Remembrance
by pamela spurling

No matter who you are, where you live, what your age… the very mention of the word “mother” likely conjures up many emotions. Even when we mothers look at ourselves in the mirror, we undoubtedly have mixed emotions as to who we are, what we do, what we hoped we’d be and what we are becoming. We may think back on memories of our mothers with bittersweet emotion… loving them for who they were or tried to be, cringing with regret for taking them for granted, regretting things they did that hurt us or things we did that hurt them, we may feel a sense of loss over the mother we never really knew, we may have ambivalent feelings toward them who have or had lives so different than our own… Whatever the case, Mother’s Day surely is a time when emotions run high, when remorse or guilt grips us, or when joyful memories flood our hearts and minds.

This Mother’s Day, I am especially mindful of who I am as a mother to my children, of how I am viewed by them and how they’ll remember these days of their childhood and early adulthood—thus the title of my message today: A mother worthy of remembrance.

In addition to considering how I will be remembered by them, I am now also considering another phase and that is how the LORD will use me in the lives of my grandchildren… and I am continually sobered by the thought that the grandchildren, like my own children need loving encouragement and they need a faithful mother/grandmother who will daily be remembering them at the feet of the LORD, that someone loves them and cares so much for them that they are a frequent topic of conversation before the LORD. I know that one of the saddest thoughts I had at the passing of my husband’s grandmother was the fact that we would no longer have her daily prayers of intercession on our behalf. I knew that day by day we were carried to the throne of God in her prayers. It was knowing this that taught me to daily pray for our children… it was her example of steadfast prayer that taught me to pray and to wait on the LORD for His timing and His answers, in the same way, she taught me to pray for their future spouses, for their lives and for the work the LORD had planned for them. Her dedication to prayer and of daily waiting on the LORD was a discipline she learned from her mother—of whom, as I understand it, was also widely known as a woman of prayer.

It amazes me how the LORD works, in that some of her prayers were not answered until long after her death, and yet, seemingly unanswered prayer was not a discouragement to her while she lived. It is knowing this and trusting in the LORD’s timing that has inspired me to pray for our children in a whole new way. I pray for many things for them and I pray that they, too, will learn the discipline of prayer—the obedience of prayer. I pray for their daily walk, their decisions, their future work, for their future spouses, and so on. Recorded prayers and recorded answers to prayers have surely been an encouragement to me as I look back on petitions before the LORD and His directions and answers to them. More and more I hunger for the times of the day when I can go aside and pray. The LORD has demonstrated His loving and listening ear over and over as He directs through His Word and in answers to prayers. He has confirmed His listening ear time and time again and I trust Him for His past deeds and future promises—for what He has said, that will He do. The prayers of His saints are wafting up as incense about His throne. What a blessing this is to know. And so, prayer is one of the disciplines of a mother worthy of remembrance.

These Grand and great-grandmothers were models to emulate; they are mothers worthy of remembrance … and their disciplines are worthy of remembrance today, as I know that my mother in law credits her own disciplined life to the examples she saw in her mother and grandmother. Faithful women. We may not personally have living examples of faithfulness, but the LORD has given us models of women who trusted in Him, whose faith was a credit to them. We have past lives and living examples and accounts of women in the Word who stand as models for us today. Sarah is an example of a woman whom the LORD found faithful. We are told in 1 Peter that we are her daughters if we do well and are not afraid with any amazement… or as the American Standard says: “…if ye do well, and are not put in fear by any terror.” We are to trust and not fear. We see once again that fear and faith cannot be carried in the same bucket. And so, faithfulness is one of the disciplines of a mother worthy of remembrance.

It is the desire of our hearts to be found faithful… just as we read in the Word: “His lord said unto him, Well done, good and faithful servant; thou hast been faithful over a few things, I will make thee ruler over many things: enter thou into the joy of thy lord.” —Matthew 25.23

I so wish that I had had the wisdom in the early years to carefully weigh the decisions I was making and the lasting impact those decisions would have. I didn’t grow up as a disciplined person, nor did I learn to carefully plan decisions. Oh, how I thank and praise the LORD today for His watchcare over me even when I did not know Him. Motherhood sort of just “happened” to me as a young married and I would apply what I was reading or what was suggested to me at the time. I must thank the LORD continually that He specifically placed me in “strategic” places where I would learn or hear ideas and try and do them. I didn’t know early on that decisions needed to be made with wisdom. I didn’t carefully weigh out all my decisions in light of the future or in light of eternity. The tyranny of the urgent and the expedient ways of doing things dictated how I made decisions. As I look back now, very seldom was wisdom employed in the making of decisions. I was easily swayed by emotion and worldly reasoning. I didn’t weigh out the consequences of my actions… though I was hemmed in by the LORD, I took much liberty to exercise what I would later come to see as poor judgment.

I continually grow in this area of decision making as I still on occasion tend to be impulsive and have to keep this in mind when buying things for our home, for our children, etc.

I see such great need for wisdom and understanding when teaching the children, when talking with others, in making lists for the day, in planning schedules or whatever other decisions might need to be made. I often pray for wisdom and understanding as I seek the LORD as the mother in our home. I sometimes think that there is nothing I need more than this with the passing of each day. The Word teaches us that wisdom is more to be desired than gold. Proverbs 31.26 says: “She openeth her mouth with wisdom; and in her tongue is the law of kindness.” And so this tells me that seeking wisdom is one of the disciplines of a mother worthy of remembrance.

Psalms 49.3 “My mouth shall speak of wisdom; and the meditation of my heart shall be of understanding.”

Psalms 51.6 “Behold, thou desirest truth in the inward parts: and in the hidden part thou shalt make me to know wisdom.”

Psalms 90.12 “So teach us to number our days, that we may apply our hearts unto wisdom.”

Another one of the disciplines of a mother worthy of remembrance is the discipline of virtue. We learn of this in the Word that the Proverbs 31 woman was a woman of virtue. She was a woman of excellence. What a loving and Marvelous God to give us this insight into His design for us each one. O, that it might be said of us: “Many daughters have done virtuously, but thou excellest them all.” (Proverbs 31.29) We learn of this quality in the New Testament as well. 2Peter 1.3 “According as his divine power hath given unto us all things that pertain unto life and godliness, through the knowledge of him that hath called us to glory and virtue” This quality is both passive—and what I mean by this is that it is a quality of the mind or the way we think on things—and it is active, it is what governs what we do and how we behave, and it is given to us by the Lord Himself.

Philippians 4.8 “Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”

2Peter 1:5 “And beside this, giving all diligence, add to your faith virtue; and to virtue knowledge;”

Desiring and becoming a virtuous woman means deciding to leave off with worldly thinking and worldly ideals. A virtuous woman cannot be measured by the standards of the world—she is measured by the standards of the Word. And just as I shared with you earlier as well as last week, faith and fear cannot be carried in the same bucket, so also the Word and the world cannot be carried in the same bucket—one will displace the other. In order to follow the Word, you must leave off following the world. The road of either one is going in an opposite direction. A virtuous woman does not travel both roads… she has chosen the better part, she has chosen to be a woman of the Word. And so, at any cost, seeking to be virtuous is one of the disciplines of a mother worthy of remembrance.

Proverbs 31.10 “Who can find a virtuous woman? for her price is far above rubies.”

And finally, though this subject is far from being covered, a mother worthy of remembrance is a mother who is loving. O, how I desire to be a mother who, through love, bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. I feel quite certain that this aspect of love is the desire of your heart as well. No matter how much I pray, no matter how disciplined I am, no matter how I seek wisdom and virtue, if I don’t have or demonstrate love, I am nothing… and that’s not how I want to be remembered.

A truly loving mother… that’s a mother worthy of remembrance.

pamela spurling ~ TheWelcomeHome ~ 2001 ~

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April 20, 2009 by pamela ♥.

Today was an outside most all day long.  The first mowing of the year, the first trimming of the year (besides the pruning of the fruit trees and roses done last month), and first real sunny-warm-play in the water sort of day. 

  Mama, I’m so glad you had more children.  I’m so happy I can play with my brothers and sisters — I would be so sad if you didn’t have any more children and I was all alone.  [Hug, hug, hug…] I’m so happy…”

I smiled and said, “me, too.”

And I’ve been smiling about that over and over again… and I’m thinking, I’m sure thankful the last baby is glad I had more children. 

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March 28, 2009 by pamela ♥.

There has been quite a variety of experiences or special things in this collection of “30 favourite things” — life changing or life-impacting things during my fiftieth year.  When I first began writing these entries, I obviously didn’t have a specific plan or order of importance in the posting of these things.  They’ve just sort of unfolded — not necessarily even in order of thought… I’ve just written about what’s come to mind on any given day.  

To have our boy, Timothy, be called to be a missionary was not a surprise to me.  I’ve known all his life that God had a work and a purpose for this boy’s life and therefore, it’s been a bittersweet thing to always know that he would be serving in places I’ll likely never see, experiencing things I never have nor will ever experience — and humbly I say, receiving a sort of blessing and joy I will never know.  But I do know this — to be his mother is my great honour and to pray for him is my joy.  And so, during this, still my fiftieth year, my sweet joy has been to think of, pray for and hear from our Timothy.

One of the greatest gifts the Lord has given this mother is to have a son
willing to, as Jim Elliot said, “give up what he cannot keep
to gain what he cannot lose.”  Praise the Lord.

So Send I You

So send I you to labor unrewarded,
To serve unpaid, unloved, unsought, unknown,
To bear rebuke, to suffer scorn and scoffing,
So send I you to toil for Me alone.So send I you to bind the bruised and broken,
O’er wand’ring souls to work, to weep, to wake,
To bear the burdens of a world aweary-
So send I you to suffer for My sake.

So send I you - to loneliness and longing,
With heart a-hungering for the loved and known;
Forsaking home and kindred, friend and dear one,
So send I you - to know My love alone.

So send I you - to leave your life’s ambitions,
To die to dear desire, self-will resign,
To labor long and love where men revile you,
So send I you - to lose your life in Mine.

So send I you to hearts made hard by hatred,
To eyes made blind because they will not see,
To spend, tho’ it be blood, to spend and spare not-
So send I you to taste of Calvary.

*After many years, Miss Clarkson added to the hymn, writing verses that reflected the trials, and the joys, of God’s call on the lives of his children. As she matured she recognized that she was sent out to minister to others, not in isolation, but in triumph.

So send I you - by grace made strong to triumph
O’er hosts of Hell, o’er darkness, death, and sin,
My name to bear, and in that name to conquer-
So send I you, My victory to win.

So send I you - to take to souls in bondage
The word or truth that sets the captive free,
To break the bonds of sin, to loose death’s fetters-
So send I you, to bring the lost to Me.

So send I you - My strength to know in weakness,
My joy in grief, My perfect peace in pain,
To prove My pow’r, My grace, My promised presence -
So send I you, eternal fruit to gain.

So send I you - to bear My Cross with patience
And then one day with joy to lay it down,
To hear My Voice, “Well done, My faithful servant -
Come share My throne, my kingdom and My crown.

“As the Father hath sent Me….. so send I you.”

E. Margaret Clarkson - words
John W. Peterson - music

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February 28, 2009 by pamela ♥.

Settled.  That’s really how I want to remember my fiftieth year.  Actually, I sure wish I had been — or felt — settled a lot earlier in my life — but I wasn’t — not really.  So, I want to affirm that this has sort of been the year of settling things.  I’ve never really felt all that ’self-assured’ or confident.  Too often I’ve been swayed or even derailed by what others might think or what others might say about this or that decision or action I might have made or taken .  Therefore, I’ve tended to doubt. A lot.

The years have brought so many changes that one thing I knew I could anticipate for sure was change.   Over the years, as the babies continued to come along, I would wonder if I could be a good (enough) mother to them all.  I’d wonder if they’d remember me loving them when the days were long and the weeks would fly by.  So many changes.  O — from early on I was very settled that the LORD is Lord of the womb — I was very, very settled in my heart that the LORD was the only determinant — for both family size and timing — I just wondered when the next baby would come; that’s what I mean about things not feeling settled.  And then, in the later years, I kept wondering if there’d be one more — and finding myself praying over and over: just one more.But things still didn’t feel settled.

All that wondering led me to, or through, what I have affectionately called my “mid-wife crisis.”   A ‘mom of many’ tends to think that the many will always be there — that pregnancy is the default condition, that nursing’s a way of life and that every year and a half or so a new baby would join the fold and the family would continue to grow and grow — that nothing’s ever settled for very long — from the number of plates on the table, to the number of shoes at the back door to the number of carseats in the van.   And so… that question that every ‘mom of many’ gets:  Are you done yet?  Are you going to have any more?   A ‘mom of many’ tends to answer:  I don’t know - only the Lord knows - the answer is never settled though the resolve is.  And I’m pretty sure most of us thinks the season will go on for a long time.

It doesn’t.

So… this has been the year I have finally reconciled myself to the fact that there won’t be any more — that that season has passed — and I’ll never travel that way again.  Broaching a subject I’ve not addressed here, it’s one of the most significant things a woman faces.  Sounds odd to put  menopause on my list of “30 Favourite Things” doesn’t it?!  There have been *many* things I haven’t liked about menopause — but reckoning with this and settling a season has been important — saying goodbye to the bearing season has been so hard - it’s one of the biggest things I’ve ever faced.   So, the reason I put this near the top of the list is that I have really wrestled with — even fought against this one for many years — our baby will be eight years old in a few months.  It’s been a marvelous, wonderful journey — the childbearing season of motherhood. I’ve been blessed beyond measure and surely through no great or mighty thing that I have done — but that He saved me and then gave me a loving husband and eleven precious children.  I’m in awe.  Ever in awe.

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February 24, 2009 by pamela ♥.

  Okay… so yesterday I told you that I’d be posting “thirty favourite things” from the last year… things that were big or important to me that I never really wrote about — some of the “life changing” or “significantly impacting things” from my 50th year. And I’ve been thinking that I have so many significant things to share — but what are worth telling — or, more importantly (considering this is a public venue), what are worth reading?  So I’m attempting to tell the stuff that’s worth reading.

June was an extremely busy month and, as such, some of the ‘big things’ that happened were very obscured by some smaller busy-ness - but weren’t small things at all.

Probably one of the most cherished events or most significant events I’ve ever experienced have been the births of each of our children and witnessing the births of our grandchildren.   The incredible gift of life — the experiencing God in the indescribable instance of birth is truly one of the greatest treasures I have or will ever have.  So, then, on the eleventh of June I had the great honour and privilege of caring for my friend who was labouring with her sixth child.  When my husband and I arrived at their home, our friend was in the throes of labour and the waves of pains were wracking her body as the time drew nearer for the birth.  Her husband and mother were there comforting and caring for her.  It became obvious that the midwife would not arrive in time for the birth and more obvious that her husband and I would be the ones to care for her during the actual birthing of the baby.  Continually working with her to give her assurance and comfort, I trusted God to guide our thoughts and decisions. Time, space and propriety does not allow for the recounting of all the (very significant to me) details of this wonderful night.

Surely the presence of the Lord was in that place — great peace was intermingled with the thrilling anticipation of the impending birth.  She was so beautiful and serene there in the warm water and as the baby was born - “in the caul” - into the waiting hands of his father, it was so obvious the blessing of the Lord was on him - on the mother - on the baby - and surely giving me great peace and comfort.  The father is a fireman — but that’s not why I had no fear.  He has helped with births as I have in the past, but that’s not why I had no fear.  I had no fear because the presence of the Lord was so evident.

As the father moved to gather necessary things, I was so honoured to place the baby in the hands of the mother and to hold him there with her so that I could more carefully assess the baby’s colour, breathing and cord.   Everything looked very good as it was a very, very smooth birth (note, I never said very, very easy or pain-free).   But you know… if there was pain, if there was too much or if it was hard, my friend showed none of that.  She was as if to be carried through on the wings of angels — that’s the only way I can describe her beauty and countenance.  I will never, ever forget that most wonderful night.

The midwife did arrive some time later, was pleased with our ‘work’ and completed the care and assessment of the baby and mother.  God had surely blessed that whole labour and delivery and it was very evident to me the prayers of the saints were with us.

I prepared a meal and tea to drink and brought it up for our serenely resting friend… in her arms was the precious newborn Timothy who had been so named for our missionary son.  This was surely one of the greatest honours we’ve ever received.  We prayed and do pray the Lord will bless, guide and use this little 2nd :o) Timothy in great and mighty ways all the day of his life.

When I awoke after a few hours sleep in the morning… I cried with awe, joy and thankfulness at the goodness and mercy of the Lord.  He alone does wondrously and all things well.

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January 30, 2009 by pamela ♥.

  My friend surprised me with a delicious Sbx this morning.  What a yummy treat and wonderful way to start the day!  Sbx coffees haven’t been part of my ‘diet regimen’ lately, but today I obviously had to make concessions for… well, what could I have done?  Tell my dear friend, no thanks, I’m dieting… what?  are you crazy? no… no… no… not me! 

So… yum… it’s as delicious now, one hour later, reheated just a tad… and here’s what it says:

By the time executives get married
take on a mortgage, raise kids, cope
with crabgrass, climb the
corporate ladder, do their best to
manage career pressures, build
their net worth and get into their
40’s, they’ve lost touch with what
they believe in and care about
most deeply.”
–Allan Cox

I’d sort of dislike attempting to liken motherhood to corporate life — I’m not one to attempt jazz up the description of “occupation” when filling out forms. I don’t look to cleverly describe my life as a domestic engineer, in product research and development, nursing, transportation, nutritionist… etc., etc.  No, I never do all that.  I never attempt to describe my life or define it using corporate terms — there just aren’t common terms to define or describe motherhood — none that would be sufficient, anyway.

When I read the cup today… I mulled over that Starbucks The Way I See It #296 quote… and I thought of parallels to mothers who spend decades building the kites, making sure the spines are straight, the covers are properly stretched, mending the tears and broken frames, reinforcing the structures over and over and then slowly lengthening the tails and strengthening the line… releasing and unwinding little by little and then when the line is fully extended from the reel… knowing when to cut the line and put the reel away.

Posted in Sbx Quotes, My life, Motherhood | Print | 1 Comment »

December 18, 2008 by pamela ♥.

I thought I’d better just log-in, write something, share a few thoughts or blog an entry in order to dispel any thoughts that I dropped off the face of the earth.  Or am still coughing.  Or am still sick.  Okay, I’m not sick… but am still coughing.

It’s December 18th and all through the house every creature is stirring — even a mouse!  Little traps are all set with peanut butter and bacon — in hopes that the little creature would soon be achin’ and what to my wandering eye should appear, but more snow, yes, more snow is here!  I went to the window to see the great sight and low and behold more snow fell in the night and the whole world looks to be a beautiful, pure white!

You have to know that I just sat down to type, forgot the story and so cannot continue the rhyme.

So, it’s December 18th… it sure doesn’t look like there’s a big celebration going on — or even planned… but it’s here, it really is.  The pantry is filled with ingredients that, when assembled, will bring great delight… and will conjur up memories of Christmas past and set the tone for the days ahead.  Each recipe I prepare and each “tradition” I don’t forget to keep seems to say to my family: I love you, I love you, still.

I’m trying to be renewed daily in the Spirit of my mind and keep the “what would Jesus do?” thoughts in the forefront of my singing and plans and daydreams and concerns.    I think on each child; I pray for specific concerns particular to each one.  My mind harkens back to days when they were small… such different days than these… in those days I would fall into bed, so exhausted from the work of the day and would sleep soundly — and then wakening to the sounds of a baby’s cry or the pitter-patter of little feet. In those days I could hold them in my arms and cover them with little blankets — now I can only hold them in my heart and cover them in prayer.

I miss those days and find myself thinking:  hmmmmmmmm, nothing and everything prepared me for these days. The LORD is faithful.  I’m thankful He never tells me what’s ahead and yet, all the while, He’s preparing my steps and my heart to accept each new dawn — strengthening my faith day by day.

I stand at the sink and ponder these days, ponder those days and think:  If I could go back to those days — would I?  For I wouldn’t want to miss these days in order to relive those. I attempt to recall what I was doing on any given December 18th of the last 30 years… and I smile at the thought of the early days and decide to not spend much time there — each year seemed to add a chair at the table — and even though now each year seems to take away a chair from the table, I decide to embrace these days - these good old days.

It’s time to go bake a memory.

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September 30, 2008 by pamela ♥.

Coyotes are whining and howling in the field.  They sound horrible and shrill — like someone is trying to kill them (sometimes I wish someone would).  Sounds seem magnified tonight… the dishwasher, the washing machine, the dryer, the icemaker and the water refilling it.  O, and the coyotes.  Suddenly, they’ve become quiet.  Maybe my neighbour said, that’s it…

I have been mulling over the bailout plan the senate is expected to vote on tomorrow.  I consider many silly scenarios and some sensible ones — several I have written to my reps and sens in the last few days.   Now, I’m no poli-sci major, nor econ major either, for that matter.  But I’m a mother and over the years, mothers figure things out pretty well.  I don’t know any mothers who are thinking this “bailout” or rescue is any sort of a sensible idea.

Mothers quickly learn the mechanics of supply and demand… they understand that the supply never seems to be adequate for the demand — but they don’t usually look for a bailout - they deal with lack of food, lack of sleep, lack of finances, lack of energy, lack of clothing that fits, lack of ability or whatever else is lacking and they figure out way to make it - to make ends meet, to adjust, to stretch, to flex, to wait or to go without.  It’s that simple.

Can you imagine a mother going to school where her teenage boy is a failing student and taking him on her lap and telling the teacher that she, herself, will be doing the assignments and taking the tests so that he won’t fail?

I mull this over… Wall Street is sort of comprised of investors — investments make the wheels of Wall Street turn.  Government has no business directing or redirecting or bailing out Wall Street — Wall Street will take care of itself if it’s not ‘bailed out’ and if investors taxes are not increased.  Simple supply and demand.  So what if wealth in this country will decline some - does the government, by going through with a bailout, possibly think that going further into debt will make or keep this country ‘rich’?  It’s crazy… all we can do is patiently wait and watch and pray.

Well… still can’t sleep.  It’s hard you know… to go to sleep when attempting to run the country the children aren’t all in yet… I’m a mother… patiently waiting… watching… praying.

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September 9, 2008 by pamela ♥.

I don’t get out much… some, but not much.  And, for the most part, I like it that way.  O, don’t get me wrong: I love to go places, I love to do things and I love to see new things.  But I love being home. When I do go out… I sure see why it’s important for me to be here… at home, keeping the home and caring for each one and each thing here.

I love keeping our home and I love home-work.  I love making sure that home’s home.  O, I know that anyone can clean houses, make food, clean it up and make more food and clean that up, too and do it over and over and over again.  I know that anyone can put stuff in the washer, move it from there to the dryer, put more stuff in the washer and do the same thing over and over and over again.  I know that anyone can supervise the existence of children in a home and maybe even teach them things, too.  I know that anyone can tidy up, dust, vacuum, sweep, wipe, mop, and turn lights on or off in a home. I know that anyone can bar a door from intruders and anyone can uphold a schedule and order.

But it takes a mama to make a home home.  It takes a mama to care for the things of a home.  It takes a mama to care for the apparel and appearance of the children and husband in her home and it takes a mama to care for the quality of the food and the presentation of the meals and the appearance of the table and the conversation that happens there.  It so matters what goes on them,what goes in them and what goes on around them. 

It takes a mama to remember the nuances of life… the candlelight and the music of life — to share the yesteryears and stories of generations gone before.  It takes a mama to remember the preferences and particular idiosyncrasies that make up each child’s unique personalities and to really care how those children feel and how their character is shaped. It takes a mama to genuinely attend to a nursling, a baby, a toddling child, a maturing son or daughter and all the needs each age and each season brings — it takes a mama to anticipate what the changes will be and what they’ll necessarily require.  It takes a mama to care about a rash, a fever, a first step, a composition, a heartache, dental appointment, a physical exam, pictures on the fridge, a skinned knee, an awkward incident, a disappointment, an accomplishment…

It takes a mama to set the tone, the order, the routines, guide the activities and make the sweet memories of the home.  It takes a mama to demonstrate God’s precious and specific order for one of the halves of His creation.  It takes a mama to show what the Word says… to demonstrate the living Word of God in word and in deed.  It takes a mama to hear the heart of her children — and to care what’s going on in each heart.  It takes a mama to teach a child to pray… and to listen to the LORD.  It takes a mama to do all that matters (and a mama knows it all matters… a lot).

It takes a mama to make a home sweet and it takes a mama to give a home a heart and it takes a mama to make a home a wonderful place to remember and a dear place to long for.  It takes a mama to be a real sweetheart for her husband and the first sweetheart of each of her children. It takes a mama to make a home a journey, a launch-pad, a destination and a desire.

When mama’s not home… the home has no heart ♥ and there’s really no-one to look well to the ways thereof.  God’s clear design is marred and distorted when mothers lose sight of, or disregard, the inestimable value of motherhood… when women choose lesser things.

H♥me.  It takes a mother’s kiss to make some things all better.  It so matters when mother’s there.  And it so matters when she’s not.

Posted in Home Sweet Home, Homemaking, Motherhood, Family | Print | 3 Comments »

September 8, 2008 by pamela ♥.

 I woke up this morning with eager anticipation for the day: our 21st “first day of homeschool.”  In the early days of homeschooling, I would not have even guessed where we would be today — in terms of both where we’ve been or how many children have been taught at the table.  I could not have asked or imagined the blessings that have come through the years.  Additionally, I most certainly didn’t know enough to know that there would be days of anguish or exasperation — near despair over what I don’t know and couldn’t communicate.  But I also didn’t know enough to know that there would also be days of immeasurable satisfaction and that the accomplishments over the years would bring such great joy.  I suppose, I didn’t know the LORD enough to know that He would be my strength and my song — my ever present help in trouble or in time of need.

As always, we seek to train up the children in the way — in the way they should go — in the fear and admonition of the LORD.  My goal/our goal is for the children to be taught of the LORD at His pace - in peace - in His time.  As a homeschooling mother, I’ve been learning that the greatest achievement will not be what I do, say or model, but what the LORD does in and through each of the children based on how and what they learn and how they apply their studies. So then, I’m profoundly aware each day of the awesome task before me - I’m mindful that they will be influenced for good or evil, to be industrious or slothful in work, attentive or ignorant in learning, obedient or disobedient in behaviour, careful or careless in presentation, eager or apathetic concerning the things of God, studies or prayer or a myriad of other things.  If my work is half-hearted, if I murmur or if my example is poor, then the resulting teaching will be unfruitful and will bring them a snare.

… a child left to himself bring his mother to shame.”
proverbs 29.15

what a powerful proverb. But what joy a mother has whose children walk with the LORD.

I have no greater joy
than to hear that my children walk in truth.”
3John 1.4
Truly, I am beginning to grasp the tremendous truth and blessing of faithful children.  I know no greater joy than this… and so, today as we embark on another year of homeschooling, I’m desiring this above all things — that the children will walk in Truth — that they will know Him.

  But the mercy of the LORD
is from everlasting to everlasting
upon them that fear Him,
and His righteousness unto children’s children;”
Psalms 103.17

I pray to teach them to love to work, to love to read, help, learn and then I pray to see frequent use of education through application and teaching of others by example.  Above all, I pray each one of our children will be found faithful.  I pray they will have good understanding and rich insight and that the LORD will make them wise.

I pray to be found faithful to the unparalled calling of motherhood and I pray to demonstrate this in joy to each one of our children.  How grateful I am to know that I am not alone in this great calling — in this great charge.  King Lemuel’s mother (or Soloman’s mother) taught him well — and, my-o-my, what an example we’ve been given in theProverbs 31 passage of Scripture.

 And that from a child thou hast known the Holy Scriptures,
which are able to make thee wise
unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.
2Timothy 3.15
 

Posted in Homeschooling, Motherhood, Family | Print | 2 Comments »

August 25, 2008 by pamela ♥.

Today I’d like to acknowledge  the mothers who came before me… mothers who worked long before days dawned and long after suns set — women who, without conveniences, running water, power and supplies, cared for their families - putting them before themselves and tenaciously pressed on through the years of their lives.  It does not escape me that life for women in many places in the world live such a life today.

I feel as though I cannot personally relate - I have photos in my possession and have heard numerous stories my children have told me about living conditions in places in Mexico & Africa… I’ve listened to Christian sisters share specifics in testimonies of daily life in those and other ‘foreign lands’ and the effort mothers expend to simply survive from day to day.  Still, I’ve not been able to sincerely relate — though I’ve sincerely attempted to grasp the reality of life for women the world over.  I say women… for the simple fact that that’s who I’m relating to.  Stories of men and their lives and work the world over would be another angle to which I cannot relate.

My mother tells me stories of my grandmother and her methods of cleaning, cooking, sewing, making soap, heating kettles, boiling water and doing laundry in large pots, hanging clothes by necessity - not choice - and a myriad of other things she did for her family. Her story is unrecorded… as are the stories of the lives of most all mothers the world over… mothers who got their hands dirty.  Mothers who really worked hard - or mothers who really worked really hard.

In addition to the chicken we have for eggs, we’ve been raising chickens — meat birds — raising them for food.  There’s been one purpose for them. Week after week they’ve been growing.  We after week we’ve been taking care of them.  Saturday that part of the deal ended — they lived up to their end of the bargain.

Friends of ours graciously taught us how to handle the chickens when they lived up to their end of the deal.  As I stood there, a flood of emotion washed over me - a strange mix of sadness, remorse and nausea.  Then, I thought of the mothers who’ve gone before me… mothers who did whatever it took to put nutritious food on the table for their families.  I thought of the mothers who didn’t have the butchering conveniences I had before me, nor the running water for the process.

Now, I wasn’t alone in this whole process, for a couple of our boys were tackling the job with sincere eagerness to do well and Wes was right there working alongside them.  I’m glad our friend prayed before we began the process — I really had a terribly hard time with the initial ‘taking of a life’ and watching the helpless animal struggle for a moment.  The dipping in boiling water was not as challenging and the ‘defeathering’ was even less so.  Then came the moment for which I had not been prepared.  You know those packets with the “giblets” in them - the neat little packages you remove from the store bought chicken or turkey?  Well, there was not a neat little baggie or paper sacklet for the most inward parts of each chicken.  This was clearly a challenge to my sensibilities. By the third one, I realized that this was a job that just plain needed to be done.

And then that thought came to me, once again, that mothers who have gone before me had done this innumerable times. I thought about that for quite a few moments.  I smiled at the thought that I had now crossed into a new territory for myself.  It was another of those accomplishments that made me a kindred spirit to those mothers who’ve gone before me… mothers who got their hands dirty.

Posted in my fiftieth year, My life, Motherhood | Print | 5 Comments »

July 24, 2008 by pamela ♥.

I’ve received emails with the following article a few times since yesterday afternoon… and each time I receive it I’m once again encouraged and reminded of the great blessing of motherhood and childbearing specifically. I’m encouraged bcz the ones who have sent it are mothers who not only love their children but also love being mothers — mothers who have borne many children and whose bodies have been made comfortable… for babies… and adored by husbands who appreciate and marvel at the handiwork and blessing of the Lord.

Article by Jeff (The Public Undressing of America) Pollard

The True Meaning of Beauty:
A Pastoral Letter to Fruitful Vines

 Dear Fruitful Vines,

One never knows in God’s mercy and kindness what a simple appeal to a Biblical passage can produce. As I was pondering my last encouragement to you all, I pondered Psalm 128. Verse 3 says, “Thy wife shall be as a fruitful vine by the sides of thine house.” I thought, “You know, instead of saying, ‘Dear pregnant moms,’ maybe, ‘Fruitful Vines,’ instead.” Now “pregnant moms” is a lovely term to me. Nevertheless, from the encouraging replies I received regarding the term Fruitful Vines, it will now be the address of choice!

This also pointed out to me again the importance of words and, especially in our society, of image. You dear sisters have to stand in the checkout lines of Wal-Mart and other stores all the time. Glaring at you are rows of magazines that virtually shout at you, “The Hollywood Harlots are the standard of beauty. You have to look like this, and display that, or you are not beautiful.”

Don’t listen to this. Reject it. Replace this lie with God’s truth.

Some of you mentioned waddling. Some of you mentioned that vines are thin. I was amused. Yet, I was also pierced to my very soul. Our society has made body-sculpting surgeons rich and constantly shoves its artificial, nip-and-tuck, silicone and Botox standard of beauty in your face. Let me tell you something: waddling, as your body bears the children God gave you, is holy. The changes, the aches, the pains, the swelling, the stretch marks, and all the rest-these are all beautiful in the eyes of the Lord and to any man who has his biblical wits about him. It is stunning beauty to see women submitting to the often painful changes that bearing the Lord’s children brings. Being fruitful and multiplying brings glory to the Lord Jesus Christ and is the holy act of bringing God’s elect into this world. Through virgin’s womb, our beloved Savior entered this world. Mary did the most holy waddling that has ever graced the planet. It was not the sultry, sensual sashay of seduction. It was the humble, load-bearing, groaning, aching waddle of the salvation of all God’s elect for all eternity.

Waddle on,groan on, swell up to the glory of the Lord Jesus Christ: you are displaying a true and holy beauty to your God and to anyone who has eyes to see.

My beloved wife used to say in her last trimester, “I feel like a beached whale.” I wish I had told her a million times and more, “But you are beautiful to me and to the Lord.” She was then and she is now the delight of my eyes. Dear Vines, there is a beauty in your fulfilling the eternal purpose of God to which all the airbrushed, surgically enhanced bodies on this planet will never compare. Your self-effacing sacrifice displays the glory of your Lord.

Waddle, swell, and groan to glory of your Savior. He knows true beauty when he sees it…”

The above article by Jeff Pollard posted at Vision Forum | Doug Phillips Blog Permalink

with love and thanks to the LORD for the inestimable gift of motherhood and opportunity for life…

Posted in birth control, Motherhood | Print | 3 Comments »

May 12, 2008 by pamela ♥.

I think we forget that sometimes. I think we get all caught up in the dailies that we miss a whole bunch of the deeper importance and imperatives of motherhood. I think in the busyness of life we forget the deeper calling, the noble endeavor and the consequences of how we spend our time and our days and the evidence of what we become devoted to or distracted by — a sobering reality is the evidence of the work of our hands. O, may the Lord be our guiding Light.

O— I know I need the messages of Mother’s Day… the praises, the cards, the gifts and the favours — even though and even when I feel so unworthy of all the cards and their lofty sentiments. But in an attempt to avoid the attention of selfcenteredly denying being a worthy recipient, I have continually thought: O Lord, please help me to get and keep my eyes off myself and my perceived failings and help me to keep my eyes upon You — for all that I have has come from You — my gifts, my possessions and my calling. O Lord, all of this, all of these things I see I have and have failed so many times — well, Lord, I can do nothing to change — but I ask Your mercy and Your favour, Lord, for all I’m doing and all that I’m called to do… O Lord, may I be wise and may I be noble as I live out the rest of my days and may my motherhood be an honour to me and to You and may it be said of me that I trusted in You. May it be said of me… I waited on You.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come to the place where I feel that the hand that rocked my baby’s cradle ruled the world — nor can I fathom feeling adequate for the task I’ve been given… but I do pray that in the end I will have been found faithful and I pray that my children will see that it was such an honour for me to be their mother. I pray they’ll know how grateful I was for the indescribable awe and privilege to carry them.

O, what a privilege — a blessing and honour — to be a mother and a family.

Some precious poems that inspire… encouragement for Mother’s Happy Day….

This one, by William Allingham was given to me several years ago in a Mother’s Day card… Timothy said he had been searching for a suitable quote or poem for my card… It’s very… Timothy.

“Before a day was over,
Home comes the rover,
For mother’s kiss—sweeter this
Than any other thing!”

That was the last stanza of the poem Wishing, by William Allingham — think you’ve never heard of him?
The opening lines from Allingham’s poem The Fairies was quoted by the character of The Tinker near the beginning of the movie Willy Wonka & the Chocolate Factory.

“Up the airy mountain
down the rushing glen
we daren’t go a-hunting
for fear of little men…”

One of my favourite poems of all… by Edgar Guest — my friend, Carolyn, read this poem as part of her devotional at a baby shower given in honour of our sixth baby. It was a beautiful time… this poem always reminds me of that and all the many ways God has used the words of this poem to comfort and encourage me through the years as a “mother of many.”

Tied Down

“They tie you down,” a woman said,
Whose cheeks should have been flaming red
With shame to speak of children so.
“When babies come you cannot go
In search of pleasure with your friends,
And all your happy wandering ends.
The things you like you cannot do,
For babies make a slave of you.”

I looked at her and said, “’Tis true
That children make a slave of you,’
And tie you down with many a knot,
But have you never thought to what
It is of happiness and pride
That little babies have you tied?
Do you not miss the greater joys
That come with little girls and boys?

They tie you down to laughter rare,
To hours of smiles and hours of care,
To nights of watching and to fears;
Sometimes they tie you down to tears
And then repay you with a smile,
And make your trouble all worth while.
They tie you fast to chubby feet
And cheeks of pink and kisses sweet.

They fasten you with cords of love
To God divine, who reigns above.
They tie you, whereso’er you roam,
Unto the little place called home;
And over sea or railroad track
They tug at you to bring you back.
The happiest people in the town
Are those the babies have tied down.

Oh, go your selfish way and free
But hampered I would rather be,
Yes rather than a kingly crown
I would be, what you term, tied down;
Tied down to dancing eyes and charms,
Held fast by chubby, dimpled arms,
The fettered slave of girl and boy,
And win from them earth’s finest joy.

~ Edgar A. Guest

And another “Mother’s Day” Poem…

I treasure poems by James Whitcomb Riley so much more after seeing the Indiana home in which he lived and wrote stories and poetry. I’ll never forget its simplicity or its grandeur. It’s kind of a bittersweet thought to consider he never had children, never married and so never personally experienced many of the things he wrote about. I recall, as we toured his home, being keenly aware of the solitariness of his life and the seeming stark simplicity of his existence.

A BOY’S MOTHER

MY mother she’s so good to me,
Ef I was good as I could be,
I couldn’t be as good—no, sir!—
Can’t any boy be good as her!

She loves me when I’m glad er sad;
She loves me when I’m good er bad;
An’, what’s a funniest thing, she says
She loves me when she punishes.

I don’t like her to punish me.—
That don’t hurt,—but it hurts to see
Her cryin’.—Nen I cry; an’ nen
We both cry an’ be good again.

She loves me when she cuts an’ sews
My little cloak an’ Sund’y clothes;
An’ when my Pa comes home to tea,
She loves him most as much as me.

She laughs an’ tells him all I said,
An’ grabs me up an’ pats my head;
An’ I hug her, an’ hug my Pa
An’ love him purt’ nigh as much as as Ma.

James Whitcomb Riley 1849-1916

________________________________

The Hand That Rocks The Cradle
Is The Hand That Rules The World

BLESSINGS on the hand of women!
Angels guard its strength and grace.
In the palace, cottage, hovel,
Oh, no matter where the place;
Would that never storms assailed it,
Rainbows ever gently curled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Infancy’s the tender fountain,
Power may with beauty flow,
Mothers first to guide the streamlets,
From them souls unresting grow—
Grow on for the good or evil,
Sunshine streamed or evil hurled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Woman, how divine your mission,
Here upon our natal sod;
Keep—oh, keep the young heart open
Always to the breath of God!
All true trophies of the ages
Are from mother-love impearled,
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

Blessings on the hand of women!
Fathers, sons, and daughters cry,
And the sacred song is mingled
With the worship in the sky—
Mingles where no tempest darkens,
Rainbows evermore are hurled;
For the hand that rocks the cradle
Is the hand that rules the world.

William Ross Wallace (1819-1891)

God bless you, dear mother… today and every day you live and serve your family, tenderly guide your home and give glory and honour to the Lord.

Posted in My life, devotionals, Motherhood, Family | Print | 1 Comment »

April 23, 2008 by pamela ♥.

Really… why go to Homeschool Conferences year after year?

As I’ve spent all these quiet hours here in bed, I’ve pondered the last several days… the keynotes and the workshops. There was sort of a hidden blessing to getting sick at this time. In the meantime I’ve had opportunity to give thought to the Christian Heritage Homeschool and Family Discipleship Conference… not only to the remarkable effort on the part of those who laboured to present such a fine conference, but to all who participated and to all the families in attendance. It really was quite an unforgettable and inspirational weekend.

I always appreciate listening to Doug Phillips and am inspired by the ‘veteran’ moms who share their ideas, methods and encouragement. I love browsing the vendor hall exhibits and seeing all the wonderful new material each offers. But, I suppose more than all of those things, I love seeing the old friends and familiar faces and meeting new ones as well. It’s the sort of thing that bolsters my resolve and joy to carry on in home education and child training. Having a website that addresses all of those things has given me the privilege of corresponding with people in many places and occasionally I have the great honour of meeting them face to face — such was the case this past weekend. What a delight to meet women who were familiar names to me and now those names have faces in my memories.

We’ve had the distinct honour and privilege to attend many, many such conferences and conventions through the years — to try new curriculum and programs — but I suppose age and perspective makes these more recent conferences more meaningful to me than the earlier ones though, truly, time does not erase the memory of great excitement and anticipation in those early days when everything was new, fresh and uncharted.

Perhaps it’s the fact that we’re not attending conferences looking for ‘the key‘ any longer… you know, that key to success that unlocks the mystery - the mystery revealed that will produce the bright and shining faces we so long to see in our children. You might laugh, but truly, there was a time when I saw all the bright smiling faces and I thought it would truly be worth anything to have that in our home. I thought the outward was indicative of the inward — and it often is… but it often isn’t. So we bought… or were caught, hook, line and sinker. And we bought and bought and bought — until we stopped. buying. that. We eventually went back to a very basic education with a great emphasis on missions and knowing the Word of God. We determined to just train up the children in the Ways of the LORD… and not in the ideals of a particular man or program.

Now, in attending homeschooling conferences, we’re not hoping to see or meet someone who will tell us it will be worth it all… we’re not hoping to buy just the right curriculum to make every day run smoothly and we’re not hoping to see or meet the ‘who’s who’ in homeschooling and see if we can duplicate their story and success. No… none of those things draw us… because we know it is worth it all… we know it’s our life, our mandate from Scripture and is our joy. It is our honour to have our children in our care from sunrise to sundown to sunrise day after day. It is our privilege to train them up in the ways of the LORD and to walk, talk, rest in the Word. I think there is no greater honour than to train up children in the Way of the LORD. And truly, no greater joy than that our children walk in Truth.

Now, when we go to conferences and see dear old friends and dear acquaintances it’s like I want to just smile and raise my hand to them all…. sort of a: high-five y’all - let’s stay at it… it really is: worth it all.

Posted in My life, Homeschooling, Motherhood | Print | 2 Comments »

March 6, 2008 by pamela ♥.

Truly, one of the most surprising and endearing gifts I ever received was a bouquet that Samuel brought me from our front yard. Now, the other children had been bringing me flowers from the yard, one from the neighbour’s yard and some from a home down the street. Well, we had to take care of the instruction and training on issues of ownership, theft and trespassing — even with best intentions, those last two things were clearly wrong. Even if the neighbours had better flowers, you know, my most favourite flowers or even the most beautiful flowers in the world and I ought to have them as presents.

I smile when I see this picture bcz Sam had brought me the most beautiful Azalea bouquet. For the life of me to this day I do not know exactly how he managed to cut that azalea, but he did. It was a unique azalea tree that I had been sort of trimming and pruning so that it would continue to look more and more like a flowering tree. His face lit up with delight and his eyes sparkled as he came in with the bouquet and handed it to me. I was astonished — speechless — really at the sight of that azalea tree — the one in my hand and what I imagined was left in the planter. He was so earnest and sincere and too little to go out of the yard to gather the better flowers from the neighbour’s yards. I had a very difficult time attempting to maintain composure. But I did, I suppose and all I could tell him was, thank you, this is very beautiful. And when I told him he mustn’t cut anymore of this sort of flower, bush or tree in our yard or, remember, in anyone’s yard, he innocently told me there wasn’t anymore… this was all of it.

Yes… I could see that.

So, this pic was snapped sometime after that fateful deep tree pruning (and presentation of the most endearing bouquet I ever received) when some growth began to appear.

It looks like they’re eying the remainder of the tree, doesn’t it? I wonder what snack they were eating.

I think things all worked out okay.

Posted in My life, Motherhood | Print | 1 Comment »

February 22, 2008 by pamela ♥.

Do you ever consider the words you say the most? I mean, besides, ” justa minute” or any other phrase you use to buy yourself a few more minutes of time before you tend to the ‘interruption” behind you? I’m thinking that the words I say most are these (and I must’ve read too many D. Seuss books early on bcz my words all tend to rhyme): no. go. so.

There’s any combination of: no throw(ing). you’re sure grow(ing). can you tie a bow? tell me what you know. can you show me? hurry, hurry, hurry, let’s not be slow. i do laundry, i’m a pro. yes, there are many children here… just look at my garden grow. stack them up, put them in a row. And everyday’s a marvel: well, whaddya know!

What got me to thinking about this is that I am gathering things to send to Timothy in Africa. And at the same time, we’re in the midst of gathering and preparation for Kathryn to leave for Uganda in a few days. And along with that, getting ready to send Hannah with our daughter-in-law to Florida for a little vacation. Go, go, go… see them go.

To all this growing and going I want to say, justa minute. Must you go so soon? And I think, where’d the time go? Has it been that many years since they were young? And then my mind is awash with memories and pictures pass through my thoughts like a slide show - only the slide show goes slower than time seems to have gone.

I think back on the younger years… all day long: no, no, no… come this way, let’s go… time to go… do you have to go? mama said, no.  Good boy, I knew you could do it, I told you so! Can you do that yourself?  There you go! Oopsie-daisy, here you go.  Time to go night, night… let’s go. Time to brush your teeth: let’s go.  Did you go? You made that picture —Ooooo! O, sure I want to know. My-o-my… how fast they grow. And then I look at the hands of time moving swiftly forward and I want to say, no. Let’s stay here awhile. Let’s take things slow.

But I’m sure that’s not how I saw things in the early days, when I was saying “no” and “go” much more than I ever do today. A few years into, what I fondly now call, the early days, older women were telling me to “enjoy these days” — and I’m pretty sure I nodded in agreement — but sometimes, inside, I was thinking: enjoy these days… hmmm… I’m just trying to get through them!  And then, often enough (Thank You Lord)  I’d have another woman say to me, “…enjoy these days…” and then I’d strengthen my resolve once more to think of motherhood as more than something to get through… but something to enjoy and the days more than something to just get through… and I did enjoy them - and I do, more, now.

O, I still say, “no” a lot. I still say, “go” a lot.  But it’s funny… now the words are in a different order, the older the children get and the more they leave home.  Go? Now, I’m saying, Is it time to go? And my insides hurt and I think, no. I hug them and kiss them and smile at what the Long has done… and I say, as much as I don’t want you to go… I’m so proud of you and I know it’s time to go. No, really: Go.

So……….

While I work I often find I’m singing and really am thinking of and thanking the Lord for His ways…

So Send I You

So send I you to labor unrewarded,
To serve unpaid, unloved, unsought, unknown,
To bear rebuke, to suffer scorn and scoffing,
So send I you to toil for Me alone.

So send I you to bind the bruised and broken,
O’er wand’ring souls to work, to weep, to wake,
To bear the burdens of a world aweary-
So send I you to suffer for My sake.

So send I you - to loneliness and longing,
With heart a-hungering for the loved and known;
Forsaking home and kindred, friend and dear one,
So send I you - to know My love alone.

So send I you - to leave your life’s ambitions,
To die to dear desire, self-will resign,
To labor long and love where men revile you,
So send I you - to lose your life in Mine.

So send I you to hearts made hard by hatred,
To eyes made blind because they will not see,
To spend, tho’ it be blood, to spend and spare not-
So send I you to taste of Calvary.

*After many years, Miss Clarkson added to the hymn, writing verses that reflected the trials, and the joys, of God’s call on the lives of his children. As she matured she recognized that she was sent out to minister to others, not in isolation, but in triumph.

So send I you - by grace made strong to triumph
O’er hosts of Hell, o’er darkness, death, and sin,
My name to bear, and in that name to conquer-
So send I you, My victory to win.

So send I you - to take to souls in bondage
The word or truth that sets the captive free,
To break the bonds of sin, to loose death’s fetters-
So send I you, to bring the lost to Me.

So send I you - My strength to know in weakness,
My joy in grief, My perfect peace in pain,
To prove My pow’r, My grace, My promised presence -
So send I you, eternal fruit to gain.

So send I you - to bear My Cross with patience
And then one day with joy to lay it down,
To hear My Voice, “Well done, My faithful servant -
Come share My throne, my kingdom and My crown.

“As the Father hath sent Me… so send I you.”

Margaret Clarkson - words
John W. Peterson - music

Posted in My life, Motherhood | Print | 1 Comment »

January 24, 2008 by pamela ♥.

As I held a baby born late in the season of fruitfulness, I was filled with tender compassion for the mama. The older mama face - etched with lines from smiles and from squinting in the brightness of the sun through many seasons and from the joys and sorrows accumulated through the years - and now another little face to kiss, feet to guide and hands to teach. But not just another — the last one.

There’s a peculiar bittersweetness to childbearing late in the season of fruitfulness, though I don’t think this is initially comprehended in the pregnancy or even in the birth - but some time after. I think this is the sort of thing that only becomes apparent as days become weeks and weeks become years and the season of fruitfulness fades into yesteryears.

Somehow the late in the season pregnancies, births and babies have a uniqueness all their own. The youthful wonderment and the strange mix of nervous anxiety and awe inspired delight that comes early in the season of fruitfulness seems to wane through the years of time and experience. I don’t know that confidence ever really replaces anxiety or that experience ever diminishes the wonderment of pregnancy and birth but I do know that there is a contrast in births early and late in the season of fruitfulness. I could suppose that some of the early fears are lost in the sea of forgetfulness but there are some anxieties that don’t diminish a whole lot with time and experience. So, I don’t know quite what the difference is — just that it’s so tremendously different.

I smiled as I read the news; another late in the season of fruitfulness pregnancy - another hope, another dream for a mama late in her season of fruitfulness. I pray for this baby, as yet unborn, but also for the mama whose heart is being enlarged and whose life is being filled yet more. I trail off for a moment, wondering how the LORD will use this child… how the mother will influence the child for the glory of God and how her heart will face the joys and sorrows that are part of every pregnancy, birth and life she bears and are compounded by the many roads and intersections she’ll travel on the motherhood journey.

I pray for her to savour these days, to soak them in and to take the time to hold the baby more and longer. I think that’s one of the sweet blessings of the late in the season of fruitfulness babies… the rocking in the arms or the sling longer. I pray for this mother’s thoughts to not be cast into the abyss of uselessness, though she has more “I used to do’s” than “I’m going to do’s” in her conversations and probably more years behind her than years ahead, I pray she smiles at the days ahead - that the sorrows and trials of life don’t overwhelm her - that the joys and delights abound to her and that the LORD will bless her life, her home and family as He has once again blessed her womb. Thus, I pray she will be more fruitful in the latter end than in the beginning.

Mothers late in the season of fruitfulness have both less to give and more to give; they know a tad bit more of what’s more important and what’s less important in the end — maybe because dimming eyes give way to 20/20 hindsight and dimming memories seem to remember more of the good and less of the lesser days.

O, how I pray for more opportunities to share what God has done in the past — that those in the future would hear of His glorious works and praise Him all the more and that the younger women would be better equipped to walk through the seasons than perhaps some of us were/are.

Posted in Motherhood | Print | 2 Comments »

January 12, 2008 by pamela ♥.

I’ve been cleaning tonight. I decided to face the inevitable. I hadn’t been up to Timothy’s room in the last couple of days and so I decided to go up… to stand there… and then to sit among his stuff. It was interesting to spend time there — sort of assessing the life by what’s left behind, or to see what’s been important to him. One wall of the small bedroom is lined with bookshelves and on them are rows of books… dozens of missionary biographies and commentaries among a variety of other manuals, Bible studies and, generally, anything that pertains to evangelism, to missions, studying the Word and to the walk of faith.

On the floor were receipts, packaging and tags from last minute purchases. Some single socks. He’d removed the sheets and bedding and had some stacks of pants and shirts for the brothers to rummage through. and And then there is a small wooden train… miniature cars that stretch the length of one of the shelves. On the desk are gifts from Mexico and Africa and there are seashells. And a beach hat. He travels light. I smiled again at what was so obviously important and not imortant to him all his life — it was never a lot of stuff, never collections or showy things. I couldn’t decide what to pack away in the rubbermaid bins Wes brought home this afternoon for me to use for packing — I had asked him to bring three or four - now I see I won’t need all of them. I was going along systematically putting into the bins things I knew he’d likely want to look through someday - cards, pictures and some important papers.  I know it might seem soon to be doing this, but in a family with this many youngers, it’s best to get important things put away before they walk away.

I decided to keep a few outfits in case Timothy needs them when he returns — though he had asked me to just let the other boys have all of his stuff — somehow I wasn’t ready to see that happen. Things were all going smoothly as if he were returning in ten minutes and then I was struck with the thought that he was not coming back soon and will likely never come to live at home again — the reality of the permanence of all of this is suddenly overwhelming.  I thought: omygoodness - what?  is this for real?  (I know this happened when our oldest boys left home… but that was well over nine years ago — and they live +/- ten minutes away!)

I decided to take a break. As I made my way downstairs, I could smell the delicious aroma of fresh chocolate chip cookies. Mmmmm, mmm, mmmmm. Ahhh… another boy has mastered great cookies! I smiled… sort of a melancholy smile as it dawned on me that the day would come that I would be cleaning this boy’s room, too. I don’t know how many times I need to be reminded that this activity of launching children has happened and will happen several more times. I realized again that motherhood means lots goodbyes. Keenly aware once again that no matter what: time slips away quickly and we must let them go… we hold the babies in our arms for a little while; we hold their hands for a season; we hold them in our prayers every day but we hold them in our hearts forever.

I’ve spent a bit of time mulling over a conversation I had with a young mom some months ago - a woman I don’t know but I felt a bit of kinship with her through the course of our brief conversation. She was lamenting the plight of young mothers and the heavy load of each day. She was feeling overwhelmed and uninspired — overworked and unprepared for the task of motherhood and homekeeping. While she talked, she commented a number of times that she so looked forward to the days ahead when her children would be older and things would be easier — days when she wouldn’t be so tired and the children wouldn’t be so hard to take care of… I told her the same thing that I told a mama just last night: It goes so fast. You may not think so today and I know you’re real tired, but hang on — press on — it really does go so fast.

And, I’m thinking it really doesn’t get easier.
It gets different, maybe, but it doesn’t get easier.
What?
No.
No, I didn’t tell her that. But I should have.

I think that’s why we walk by faith and not by sight… for the days that aren’t easier.

Posted in Timothy - Ghana, Motherhood | Print | 7 Comments »

November 16, 2007 by pamela ♥.

I remember the night our son left home… I was nursing a newborn baby, the fragrance of the milky breath and tender cheeks and snuggly baby clothes was intoxicating. And as I sat holding that baby close to my heart, another ‘baby’ was walking out the door and I thought at that moment I would die. Maybe I even wished it would be so.

I had never known a deeper grief and a more paralyzing moment of despair. It was a strange mix of failure, disappointment, loss, hopelessness, regret, shame, remorse, shock, doubt, frustration, and sadness all wrapped up in a blanket — memories I still seemed to hold in my arms, yet the baby was no longer a baby - he was a young man - eager to seek his own way.

Time passed and as time has a way of doing, so did a lot of those feelings or, rather, their intensity lessened over time. And I more completely accepted responsibility that the initial shock had masked. Initially, I wondered, what in the world had I done or not done to deserve that or to have that happen. But time had a way of revealing things that I had blindly missed. And, thankfully, time sort of softens the rough edges and the jagged memories. A bit. Not quite a bit, but a bit, nonetheless.

Night after night as I would lie down in my bed and watch the memories play on the ceiling in the dark — my eyes hot with tears… and tears rolling down my face and into my ears, I would wonder how to make things right, how to correct the host of wrongs and the poor decisions. Night after night, season after season… the same thing. At first, I would practically jump when the phone would ring. I didn’t jump with delight, but with fear. Instantly that ring would trigger a wave of fear and dread. But my fears were not realized and my tears did not result in joy. But fears and tears turned to prayers through the years. Time softened my heart - revealed my failings and developed compassion for that prodigal son.

I would love to have had the next sentence read:

“And when he came to himself, he said, How many hired servants of my father’s have bread enough and to spare, and I perish with hunger! I will arise and go to my father, and will say unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before thee, And am no more worthy to be called thy son: make me as one of thy hired servants. And he arose, and came to his father.”

And then, I wish I could tell you that Wes, seeing the son: “…when he was yet a great way off, his father saw him, and had compassion, and ran, and fell on his neck, and kissed him.”

And then I wish I could tell you here that at that moment: “…the son said unto him, Father, I have sinned against heaven, and in thy sight, and am no more worthy to be called thy son.”

And that Wes’s response was: “Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet: And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry: For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.”

And if any of our other children possibly felt jealous of all the loving attention, that Wes had said to all of them: ” Thy brother is come; and thy father hath killed the fatted calf, because he hath received him safe and sound. ” And if any were resentful - which I fully believe they would NOT be, that it would be said of Wes: “… therefore came his father out, and intreated him [them]…” And that he would continue reasoning: “Son [and family…], thou art ever with me, and all that I have is thine. It was meet that we should make merry, and be glad: for this thy brother was dead, and is alive again; and was lost, and is found.”

(This, from Luke 15. 13-32)

All of that did not happen here, yet.  But what I can say is this: There has never been a day where that son escaped the gaze or notice of the LORD and there has never been a day from that day to this that God was not sovereign, that He did not work or did not provide or did not watch over that son or this family. There has never been a time where the will and way of the LORD was not done.

And for that reason, while I no longer grieve in the outward manner I did, I no longer cry or worry in the same manner I did, there has never been a day where I did not have hope in the LORD for that son. For the LORD is faithful; and in Him I will yet hope more and more. I used to pray the LORD would do whatever it took to draw that son back to Himself.

I now pray: Lord, will You carry my boy in Your arms and will You be tender to him as you have been to me? Will you draw Him back to Yourself and bless Him - and if You bless him even half as much as You have blessed me, well then, even the ocean could not contain the blessings… for I know the love of God is stretched from sky to sky. And I pray, Lord, will You please go easy on the boy? I love him and I pray You will give him many days to give You great glory.

My prayer for mothers of prodigals… “Lord, will You carry these tender hearts and comfort and help them to see You, to seek You and to trust You. Lord will You comfort them in their distress and give them hope that can only be realized in knowing You. And, Lord, will You keep Your eye on that child that his life will not end in shambles but in giving You glory. Thank You, Lord, that You are only wise, only faithful, only good - and we praise You.”

Posted in My life, devotionals, Motherhood | Print | 5 Comments »

November 12, 2007 by pamela ♥.

Yep - I let a typo become the title of this entry. Cindy’s original blog yesterday “Older Mothers of the World Unite” has been quite interesting to watch as comments have doubled overnight. I shared some things on her comments section and posted them here. Not as an indictment of mothers but an admonition to evaluate some decisions/activities. That said… I continue to mull over this matter today.

I say… mothers: Untie!

This, I say, for many reasons. Older mothers have been afraid to say things to their capable, confident, well accessorized, independent, younger counterparts. Now, at first blush, my description of the younger counterparts may seem critical and maybe even judgmental. O, not so. I actually marvel at the capabilities of the younger mothers - and am astonished at the proliferation of baby-childcare-childhood merchandise and training materials. But I also marvel at the independence I see and the sad consequence of that independence. I see many young mothers as unaware of their lack of skill or unaware of their self-centeredness or unaware of their marginalizing of their older counterparts. To many younger confident mothers, the older mothers are passé – obsolete has-been’s who aren’t really relevant because times have changed and the archaic ways have been replaced by the nouvelle motherhood – the, what I call: bigger, better, more motherhood. The “righter than you” motherhood.

Now, here is a potential for trouble – young mothers may feel unnecessarily accused or offended at this point and that’s not my intention. My intention is not to ‘slam’ young mothers or to reprimand or criticize. But to say: Mothers! Untie!

Untie! Old mothers… Older mothers… Younger mothers… Young mothers: Let us all not be so bound up in sanctimonious thinking that we forget where we are, where we’ve come from or where we’ve been.

So that, when a young mom says, for example: we’ll never spank our children! You don’t reply: “Then you’ll wind up with little terrors who will destroy the property of every home they visit and be miserable to spend time with.” Instead, maybe a better tact would be to demonstrate how and when and where and why to properly discipline and hopefully the overly confident- inexperienced young mother will take into consideration the biblical mandate to discipline properly and to love and respect properly – and quite possibly understand the reason Titus 2.3-5 is included in the Word. You will gain respect, you will impart understanding and wisdom and, more importantly, you will gain a loyal friend in that young mom.

So that, for example, when an older mom describes how to do something that goes against or doesn’t line up with contemporary conventional thinking, young moms don’t bristle and close their ears to other options – and old moms need to see there are some great ‘new ways’ of doing old things better and not be so callused, closed minded or hard hearted to new ways of seeing things. We need to see there may be new and better ways. We might need reminding that the old way of doing things just might still be the best way – and just because appliances and convenience have replaced many things – that doesn’t mean the old ways obsolete.

Just look at the number of so-called retro things are popular. Aprons, cookbooks, wheat-grinding, bread, clotheslines, soap making, herbs and tinctures, natural products, cloth diapers and on and on.

Untie! Young mothers… untie yourselves from the preconceived notions that the older mothers think they know everything and want to ruin rule your lives. Be taught! You’ll be teachers one day!

Untie! Young mothers… from the thought that generations before you are antiquated and this generation now (finally and fortunately) has things figured out. Learn from the old ways while you’re walking the new paths.

Untie! Older mothers… Untie from the old ways that aren’t profitable! Be teachable and adaptable to the new ways. Hold fast that which is good… (1Thessalonians 5.21 “Prove all things; hold fast that which is good.”)

Untie! Older mothers… be what God has called you to be. Be it! Teach it! Live by example – and if your example isn’t so good right now – get it there… study, improve, correct, change, apply! Get your life in order, learn what you ought to know, be what you ought to be: that(!) the Word of God will not be blasphemed in or through your life – Let the Word be lived through your life!

Unite your heart to fear the LORD and to live in obedience to Him.

Let us learn from Titus 1.9 and 16 and 2.1: “Holding fast the faithful word as he hath been taught, that he may be able by sound doctrine both to exhort and to convince the gainsayers… They profess that they know God; but in works they deny him, being abominable, and disobedient, and unto every good work reprobate… But speak thou the things which become sound doctrine:”

And older mothers: we need to be sweet. The younger generation needs an example to follow. Let’s strive together - not against one another. Let’s unite.

Posted in Society, mothering from the sidelines, Motherhood | Print | 11 Comments »

November 11, 2007 by pamela ♥.

I was reading Cindy’s Blog and sort of felt compelled to leave a note for her in her comment section. Now, she didn’t need my input - surely all the other entries were sufficient, but I was compelled, nonetheless. She had set up her writing in such a manner as to almost induce others to think of their own ‘lists’ and it was very effective. So much so, that at this point I am thinking of many more entries… but I’ll just leave it at what I already posted. She titled her blog entry “Older Mothers of the World Unite. I originally typed Untie. so… here I go: Untied. Or United. Whatever.
I often think of her quote: “Ideas have consequences” and find myself saying that here at home from time to time.

So, this, quoted from Cindy’s site:

Since Amy (Pray for Amy. She is STILL pregnant.) sent even more young mothers over here I thought it would be FUN to get really honest. I thought maybe the older moms could tell the things that bug them when they see mothers with young children. I thought this would be a lot of fun and it would also be a way to plumb the ultimate depths of memory loss and truth telling. If there is one thing I have learned from blogging it’s that negativity sells

To get things rolling, I will list ten things I hate to see young mothers doing: (and then she listed them here) …”

And now, Here’s what I wrote in response to Cindy’s comments:

This is funny, Cindy… I was just having this conversation with an *old* ;o) friend of mine. I don’t know if I’ve got a top “Ten things I hate to see young mothers doing.”

When I see a mother with young children_________.

here goes:
1. …and the child is fussy, angry, whiny and the mother make endless excuses that or why he/she is so tired. (it’s your number 9 - but I suspect your list order changes as situations warrant.)

2. …and the toddler is wearing a diaper that is nearly down to his/her knees and is filled with about a quart or two of fluid. (o, and the mother says she likes how absorbent that brand of diaper is.) Ack!

3. …and the mother is *counting!* in some attempt to quell the disobedience(!?!?!) When? Surely not when she gets to ‘3′ or ‘10′ Young mothers: don’t count! Please. Teach counting at the table with pencil and paper, beans or chocolate chips. But don’t count as a method of discipline. There’s a proper method for that. Use it early (and often) if necessary.

4. …and the child is emptying the cabinets or shelves or whatever and the mother makes excuses for her child’s “curiosity” and “busyness.”

5. …and she asks cranky child in the shopping cart if they want to go home? It goes something like: “We are so going home if you don’t stop that. I shouldn’t have brought you here. I’m not going to buy you anything. I told you you can’t have it. Okay. but I am not getting you anything else. Do you want to go home. You are going to be in so much trouble. I’m going to spank you. Okay. You’re not getting these. I’m going to take you home.” They don’t want to go home, Mama. They want their own way. Don’t talk, Mama. Act.

6. …and they think it’s everyone else’s children who are acting up or being rude - and that the trouble surely could not have been their child’s fault. 0ooo. (take this from a mom of angelic and naughty ones)

7. …and the mama has been duped into believing the latest hype… and is worn out, unsure, is a over-confident yet insecure and stays neurotically busy doing all the right stuff… just right and on schedule, wants all the right equipment - wants all the right clothes - all the right play groups - the right books - the right educational toys - the right pediatrician - the right carrier - the right order, schedule, and terms and yet doesn’t realize it’s not all the ‘right stuff’ that matters most. Relax. Most all the stuff that ’seems’ most important just isn’t. Listen to an older mom: most all of that stuff doesn’t matter. What matters is: time with you… time hearing stories, making something, walking, talking, laughing, painting, colouring, praying, singing, mattering to you… that’s what’s important. Really.

8. …yep - flat headed babies.

9. …speak in third person to the child.
aiya!

But you know what I’m hating maybe the most? This trend I’m seeing in moms… it’s flippant or sarcastic or whatever - it’s a way young women are dealing with their families that is not nurturing and loving but is oftentimes offhanded, surly, using innuendos to make comments or requests. TV sitcom coarseness and mannerisms have crept into homes and many mother’s attitudes are not tenderhearted - gentle, kind, patient - but cocky, even caustic at times - about the ‘kids’ and about the fathers or husbands. Women have poor attitudes about their children, their husbands and their home-life.

So, number 10 - but probably number one… I’m not seeing the majority of young moms as joyful mothers of children (psalms 113).

But, Cindy, I’m pretty certain your readers are joyful - joy-filled mothers of children. I’ve seen this to be the case. Thanks for the good topics you bring to the table.”

So, this top-ten listing from older mothers could go on and on… so, if *you* feel like posting *your* top ten… go ahead, feel free to do so. This older mom has forgotten so much … maybe you have some better ones.

Posted in mothering from the sidelines, Motherhood, Potpourri | Print | 2 Comments »

August 28, 2007 by pamela ♥.

repeat itself.

I heard that sort of thing from my mother growing up. I read about history repeating itself in school, in letters and in magazines in dentist’s offices over the years. I read about it in Ecclesiastes. The more I read the more I see it. The longer I live I see it: History repeating itself.

So I was driving along and a song popped in my head and I must’ve been humming… one of the children said, O, that’s a new ____ song. I thought… no, no… that’s an old song.  What?  You *know* that song?  Yes… it was… Harry Nillson… 1971… I was in the…  …drifting off.   And then it was affirmed to me once again: there is nothing new under the sun (in addition to: vanity of vanities; all is vanity) and the more things change, the more they stay the same.  And children are still surprised at life that happened before they were born.  Back before… wow, CD players.

I was talking with a young mom and she was lamenting the length of days and the monotony of repetition. I told her, as is my oft repeated mantra these days: this will pass and you will cry for these days. She sort of glazed over when I continued on telling her that these days will be the past all too quickly and she’ll miss them with a physical ache she cannot comprehend at this point in time - but there will come a time that she will, indeed, cry for these days. A curious blend of regret, longing, missing, hope and love. She cannot see that now. All she can see is the daily-ness of today. And that’s a problem with young mothers… motherhood is so daily. Too daily for some and they think real life is happening somewhere else (but that’s a lie). All she can see is the endless mountains of laundry, valleys of despair and dishes mounting in the sink.

I told her she would, one day, be telling another mother these same things. She will be able to tell that future mother more convincingly if she embraces these days and loves motherhood with unreserved abandon. But if she hates these days and continues rejecting God’s precious gift of motherhood… then… she won’t have much to tell that future mother and will certainly leave no joy in her children’s memories of her. History will repeat itself… the daughters will become mothers and who will encourage them? Who will cheer them on? Will they reject or embrace motherhood? Will they be sweet mothers?

I hope she will live long enough to see history. I pray it’s sweet.

So, I was mindful today as I was reading through some articles and noticing a common thread… what mothers went through yesterday, mothers face anew today— but it’s not new, not really. It’s the next chapter. It’s the same thing only different. Different bcz of history. By this I mean that what we face today we have faced already - just differently. As mothers we’ve waited and waited and waited for, say, the birth of the next baby. Then we waited and waited and waited for this or that milestone. Then we waited and waited and waited for the next and so on — History repeating itself. We watch how God worked in a particular situation and then marvel when yet another situation is miraculously covered — History repeating itself. On our behalf. We wait and wait and wait to see history. And you know… for believers what we really want to see is His - story. We all long to see His way and will played out in the lives of our children… and what a blessing it would be to see history played out in our children’s children.

For all of history is HIStory.

Posted in Motherhood, More Slices of Life | Print | 1 Comment »

July 1, 2007 by pamela ♥.

Here are the bookends to my own motherhood… our oldest and our youngest… their birthday’s are twenty two years and a day apart. God’s been so good, so faithful and so true… every day of these 28 years of motherhood… He has never failed. Never.

So it is with great joy and great gratitude and humble amazement that I celebrate the births of my oldest and youngest babies — and I do celebrate them — for so many reasons, so many sweet memories, so many blessings. God is only good. All the time.

He maketh the barren woman to keep house,
and to be a joyful mother of children.
Praise ye the LORD.
Psalm 113.9

Posted in Motherhood, Family, Potpourri | Print | 2 Comments »