1. At first I believed I could. Then I believed I couldn’t. I was right both times.
2. If you removed the rocks, the brook would lose its song.
3. If your mind should go blank, don’t forget to turn off the sound.
4. One thing you can give and still keep is your word.
5. We all face a series of great opportunities brilliantly disguised as impossible situations.
Been checking, out there, reading sites that discuss homeschooling, and noticed a worn out question: Do homeschoolers have to be religious freaks?
Nah. You can homeschool and hate God. But . . .
. . . those who made that point in the responses “had a hard, hard, hard time of it,” they said. They did not stay the course, they said. They had toddlers who were rampage runners, they said. Hmm.
Who is it that gives us strength if we joy in Him? We have the joy of the Lord as a natural fruit of our connection to Him, and it is our strength, almost like the life-giving sap that runs through the vine. Even when we notice ourselves tiring, often we immediately realize we forgot to rejoice. What a difference it makes when we drink of joy!
Who is it that gives us perseverance and makes us complete, as faith overcomes life’s obstacles? We have this gift of faith, this knowing that we know things we cannot see, and every time it goes for a test drive, it matures, broadens, making us feel like we can do anything. And we can always go back to the source for more, in times of great need. It emboldens us.
Who gives us the owners’ manual regarding the rearing of children? The way is set clear before us; we have no trouble knowing “What to do! What to do! What to do!”
We capture our thoughts instead of letting them run amok, we stand up with electrified backbones, we jut our chins with a grin, and make progress. But that’s not religion and we’re not freaks.
We are war orphans and were slated for annihilation, but our Captor adopted us, feeds and clothes us, lifts us up, and plans to bequeath us all He owns. But that’s not religion.
We’re grateful. We adore Him for His kindness and generosity. We’ve discovered, in Him, Someone so fascinating that we actually enjoy conversing with Him. Medical science has discovered that those who do so get sick less, heal faster, live longer, period. Since we do need to live long enough to finish what we started, it works for us.
But it’s not religion.
What then are we to make of suffering?
If we are The Called, in Christ Jesus, everything that happens to us is for some higher purpose, even when life DOES go our way. We can know for sure that the pain of suffering unfair treatment, like all other things, works for good. The Scriptures promise this.
I pray these blessings on you all. They are the whole reason He came, anyway. Right?
Why it Hurts – Sticks and stones . . . you know names can hurt worse. A bruise from a stone heals in a week or two, but the pain from name calling can last as long as your memory. It can last as long as we let it.
We can let it hurt for ages.
Do we want it to hurt? Maybe there’s something inside us that does. Do we feel proud if we can get that lower lip to quiver one more time?
I mean, people, IT HURTS!
Right? People notice? They pet us some more? They feel sorry for us?
Maybe not.
It’s just the world – People! Them! It’s not my fault, remember! No, it’s just the world. We forget something: “In this world ye shall have tribulation.” It’s a promise from God, but not one of those promises we name and claim, is it?
Jesus told us. He warned us. We should know it. It’s part of being alive. Tribulation, from the Latin root meaning sledge-hammer. How appropriate. The alternative is leaving this old world behind. Being alive in this world includes getting hammered. Being alive in this world also includes being part of it. We are such sloppy communicators and such confused listeners, no one can help being part of the trouble.
God also told us, “The heart of man is desperately wicked. Who can know it?” I think that is part of the pain, too. We think we know so-and-so would never say that. We find out each person is capable of hammering on us. We think, finally, this relationship is secure.
Nope. Never.
As long as there are people, and that includes you and me, there will be hammerin’. People will hammer. They will hurt and not apologize. They will apologize and not sound sincere, not even know what they ought to have apologized for. It’s just the heart of man, including the women.
Sometimes, oh, I dunno, it seems, especially the women.
People don’t know what to apologize for because they have no idea they did anything. They truly have no idea what they are doing half the time, no idea what they’ve done. They say, “WHAT?!” and they mean it. What have I done? What is it THIS time? What?! They don’t know what they’re doing.
But we don’t remember something. The beloved voice that said, “In this world ye shall have tribulation,” also said, “Be of good cheer for I have overcome the world.” He did not mean He could lick any enemy of ours in a moment, although He could do that. No, He meant He has overcome the whole mess, you and me included. The whole world—He could lick it all in a moment, and He will.
The God who said, “The heart of man is desperately wicked,” also said that He knows our hearts. Oops. Scary business, that. On top of that, He told us to rejoice and look up when it got really bad, because He would be close on the heels of the Very Worst Day. When That Day comes, we’d better be ready.
We’d better be cheered up!
This is not about physical pain, although all women, and especially all wives, are great experts at physical pain. After having 6 children and around 2000 migraines, I certainly am.
But this is about the pain that attacks your soul, the confusion, indecision, and heartbreaks that can blindside us all.
Like when the doctor tells you morning sickness is all in your head.
Let’s just face it: The happenings in life are often unfair. We devote a third of our government to being sure life is fair, but unfairness still slips in, doesn’t it? A lot, right? It’s not enough that a child dies, but it sometimes must be that someone killed him. It’s not enough that a woman loses her husband, but sometimes it must be that some other woman stole him. It’s not enough that a house burns down, but sometimes it must be that an arsonist started a forest fire.
Isn’t that how it goes?
And it hurts most when friends and family are the perpetrators, doesn’t it? When your child is ungrateful, it hurts more. When your husband is lazy, it hurts more. When someone at church lies about you, it hurts more. When your mother gets on your case, it hurts more.
Sometimes that’s just how it goes.
And sometimes, even that is not enough. Sometimes we also must go through these hurts alone. Having no defenders makes it tougher. Having no one to confide in intensifies it. Having no one just hurts. More.
Since I’ve been experiencing considerable pain, lately, I thought talking to you would help me keep my brain right-side up. Oh, I’ll share no real details, but generalities should be enough to help you help me help you. What about it?
Wouldn’t it be a good thing if we could turn our hurts into help for others?
I’m in. Let’s take a week to do an autopsy on mental and emotional pain. Let’s take every part out and learn what goes wrong and how to right it.
Maybe you know someone else you could share this with. Or send it to.
Maybe we all can feel better, think straighter, laugh more.
I used to tutor.
Once, a young mother came to me for help with her first-grader daughter. The girl had been in a private school and was producing perfect work, daily, but on the following days, she seemingly knew nothing from the day before. Everyone was puzzled. The mom had heard about home schooling, found my phone number on a poster, and thought I’d know something the girl’s teachers did not.
Scary scenario!
However, I’d recently received a copy of a learning styles test a friend had written, and thought that with it, and with private tutoring, perhaps I could discover something an overworked teacher had missed.
The child was sweet, bright, and eager. This was going to be fun. I gave the mom a copy of the test to fill out at home, since she probably knew her daughter better than anyone else. I began carefully disguised check-ups of the girl’s reading and math skills.
She was a puzzling bundle. She could know something one moment, then know nothing the next. We read from an early reader, and she would do very well after I told her almost every word. I wondered—was she guessing? Memorizing?
The learning style test had come back showing her to be a visual learner. She ought to love reading.
I turned to the back of the reader, and showed her vocabulary lists placed there for the teacher. I pointed to a word from our day’s reading, and asked her what it was. That’s when everything became clear.
“Oh, Ms Kathy! I could never read that word; it’s too little for me to see it.”
Dear me. A visual learner who cannot see. Of course. She was, indeed bright enough to memorize each day’s lesson, but had inadvertently missed learning to read.
That day, she and I made huge yarn letters together, one per page of construction paper, and did copy work on the board with letters one foot tall. Immediately she knew what was going on and began making enormous progress.
When her mom came to pick her up that day, I asked her if either she or her husband had vision problems. She said they both had trouble seeing much of anything, that their vision was corrected with contacts of a strong prescription.
I told her, “I think your little girl cannot see. I think that is the basis of the problem, plus missing out on the foundations of reading readiness.”
We both had tears in our eyes that day, and eventually the girl received her first pair of glasses. I lost that tutoring job soon afterward, but the joy of helping such a needy one, so quickly, was compensation enough for me.
I cannot overemphasize how we wives need to stick together and help each other.
Used to be, home schoolers were odd because they homeschooled.
Now days, it’s just rare to find a mom at home, at all. Like it or not, we live in what amounts to the wilderness days, when women kept homemade candles glowing in windows just to cheer each other at night. How kind we used to be, reminding each other, when the coyotes were howling, that someone else was braving it through that lonely existence, too!
The duty of visiting each other and showing hospitality actually had meaning and value, then. Nowadays, we cannot justify visiting unless someone is homebound. Isn’t that us? How else can we keep home, unless we are home? So here I come, through the wilderness, visiting you with news of tips I’ve learned along the way.
It beats gossip.
Out of laundry detergent? Use about 1/8 cup hand-dishwashing liquid in a full load of laundry. This cleans well, but is not quite as easy on clothing as laundry detergent, so do buy the right stuff when you get the chance. It’s great, though, for those days when all the jeans are muddy and you’re out of detergent. Do not use with bleach, however.
For cleaner clothes and less wear on the washer and use of electricity, wash with the lid open (top loaders, only!) on a shorter, gentler cycle. After it agitates, it will soak. Later, re-run the agitation cycle for a few moments with the lid closed. The cycle will complete as usual and the new level of clean will surprise you.
Rather than waste money on aerosol cans of starch, try starching in the washer. Place all starch items together, for this short time, unless they are terrible bleeders. (Do not put your husband’s white shirts with your new red doily, etc.) Fill with warm water, less than usual for that size load. For medium water level, prepare starch thus: Bring one quart water to boil. Thoroughly stir ½ cup cornstarch into 2 cups cold water. Slowly pour this into the boiling water, whisking constantly. Remove from heat. Pour into washer and agitate on gentle cycle. Drain and spin on gentle cycle that does not add much water to the spin. The idea is to eliminate dripping and still leave a goodly amount of starch in the clothing. Drip dry—no dryer, please. Iron using steam and a spray bottle of water to dampen as you go. Starch makes important clothing nice and crisp. I absolutely love what it does for rayon. Sometimes starched clothing fares so well, it is wearable for two days. Collars and yokes pick up less body oil, too, if starched.
Baking soda really does almost anything. I hate to sound like our favorite matron of homemaking, but just try some, in a paste, on your toaster, to see. I even clean ovens with it. I used to think this advice was too hoaky, but it’s for real. Baking soda works just like scouring powder, but is gentler on the item you clean and tougher, if possible, on grunge. I was so shocked when I first learned this. I used to think, “Yeah. Right!” But no more.
To remove permanent ink try hair spray. Rub and launder. If it doesn’t work, hardly anything else will. To remove wax from fabric try ammonia. Get the worst out first, with heating or scraping. It may take a while, but it will dissolve.
More tomorrow. 🙂
Home's Cool! 