Heavenly Genetics

Recently, my best friend gave birth to her first son. Soon, the usual comments began to pour in; "Wow, he looks just like his daddy!" And he does. Even his little expressions are very much paternal.

Then, as Baby Ben was being examined last week, someone got right in his face and exclaimed, "Joe, dude--you shrunk!"

Have you ever stopped to marvel at the complexity of DNA? How is it possible that these little ones can come out looking like miniature carbon-copies of their parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, or grandparents?

Yet they do. Time and again, we observe these similarities. Somehow, it seems to surprise us, but it's so common!

Then I began to wonder about my Heavenly Father. Can people see Him, when they look at me? Do they know that I am a daughter of the King? Do I reflect His attributes to those around me? Or is there so much of my sinful nature evident that He is obscured by it?

I've had strangers on the street come up and ask where I go to church. I guess it's obvious that I'm "religious," but, as the hymn-writer says, do they see "Christ only- always, living in me."

The word "Christian" means, "little Christ." Just as Ben Wesley is a miniature of his daddy, so we are to be carbon-copies of our Lord and His heavenly genetics should shine through us daily.

"Beloved, now are we the sons of God, and it doth not yet appear what we shall be: but we know that, when he shall appear, we shall be like him; for we shall see him as he is." (I John 3:2)

Is There a Skeleton in Your Closet?

Why is it so much easier to sweep things under the bed, shove them in a closet, or stuff them into a drawer?

The past few weeks, I have been consistently working with my girls in areas that have been sadly neglected. As a mother, it's easy to see a problem and dismiss it; lack of time and energy! But those skeletons in the closet never seem to go away by themselves. Then, when we do address them; it's monstrous!

I keep reminding myself, "It's going to get worse before it gets better." All these issues must be pulled out of their prospective hiding-places and attacked individually. It will take time, effort, and tears. But it will be worth it!

Today, I took all three of the girls shopping. When we returned to the car, I faced them, "Thank you, for your behavior in the store today. It makes me want to take you back."

A Nation of Appeasement

Yesterday, while web-surfing, I came across an article about Parents Lying to their Children. Rather than condemn such behavior, the author treated it like a joke; since all parents "do it." But, as disgusting as the article was, the comments below were even more appalling, as parents laughed about their wiles.

One mom "humorously" confessed that she often lies to her four-year-old, saying that a favorite (annoying) CD was left in Daddy's car. 

Most of the replies were in favor of this behavior. Only one person had the courage to tell this Mom that it's OK to say, "No, we're not going to listen to this right now." Then she reminded all the parents of the age-old truth; "You reap what you sow." How can you expect honesty from your children when you are not honest with them? And is it possible that we are more afraid of "hurting little feelings", than telling the truth?

Recently, at Walmart, I watched a man (you know; the obnoxious kind that know they're good-looking) as he bragged about how he stopped being his girl's daddy when she was three. He's her buddy now. Then, he reached out to caress the 8 or 9 year old in front of him. I was both amused and saddened to see her pull away snobbishly, rolling her eyes at her "buddy."

Parents, what is wrong! We've been commanded to train our children, (Prov 22:6) and to provide for them, (I Tim 5:8) but never are we ordered to be their buddies; or even to make them happy. Sadly, even the "church" has become brainwashed by an ungodly culture, as we forsake the truths of God's Word to cater to selfish children.

Somehow, in the past hundred years, our country has become a nation of appeasement: We care more about the feelings of a rapist than the innocent lives of his victims. Illegal aliens are granted rights and privileges that natural-born citizens must obtain through sweat and labor. And special-interest groups carry votes which the majority of Americans oppose.

The societal effects are evident. But where did this start?

As for my people,
children are their oppressors,

and women rule over them.

O my people, they which lead thee
cause thee to err,

and destroy the way of thy paths.
(Isaiah 3:12)

Mrs. Whatever You Say

Once upon a time, in the village of Kinderule, there lived a sweet and motherly lady, Mrs. Whatever You Say. When her eldest daughter, Ignorant Bliss, refused to go to school, the mother simply replied, "Whatever you say, dear."

When her son, Slothful, insisted on skipping his bath, the cheerful mother just bobbed her head nonchalantly, "Whatever you say, dear." And when Baby Defiance turned up her nose at her medicine, the indulgent Mommy responded, "Whatever you say, dear."

Frankly, there wasn't anything that Mrs. Whatever You Say made her children do. She loved them too much to stifle their "individuality". So they grew up Ignorant, Slothful, and Defiant. Without an education, Ignorant-Bliss never got a job. Because of laziness, Slothful never tried. And, for obvious reasons, Defiance couldn't keep one. So they all lived together in their mother's tiny house...unhappily ever after.

*****************************

We can all read this story and mock Mrs. Whatever You Say, but how many of us buy into the notion that "Baby knows best?"

If they don't like their broccoli, then fix them something they will eat. If they want to spend the day watching cartoons--don't make them go outside. If they don't want to take a nap, don't make them. And, for goodness sake, don't ever say "no!" (Isn't that an oxymoron?)

The Biblical model is quite the opposite: "Train up a child in the way he should go" (Prov 22:6) The word "train" means to "manipulate into a desired course or shape." In fact, locomotives are now called trains, because they are compelled to follow a track that leads them a certain direction. So children are to be trained in the way they should go.

This applies to every area of life. Childhood is not just an innocent age before responsibility strikes. It is a time of training for life. It's boot camp. We've all heard the saying, "Boys will be boys," but the truth is; "Boys will be men," and "Girls will be women." They must be prepared!

What's the big deal about brocoli? Well, besides the undisputed health benefits--nothing. But teaching children that they don't have to eat what they're given is unfair. Life rarely gives us options, we have to learn thankfulness. That starts at the dinner table. And I wonder; How many cases of ADD, ADHD, or autism would we have in this country, if parents would be parents and control what their children do or don't consume? 

*For more tips on raising healthy eaters,
Check out my newest Squidoo lens:

What to do with picky eaters

Ah, The Simple Life!

Ah, the simple life... if only it were more simple!

Honestly, I can't wait to be a senile granny, sitting in my rocking chair and informing everyone, who'll lend an ear, how I learned to cook on a wood-stove and sew on a treadle machine! But then, as decrepit as I already feel, they'll probably believe me!

My Mom calls our three and a half years with the Amish, our "wilderness experience." It was truly a time of testing, frustration, and learning to appreciate life.

I was ten when we moved to the community. Shortly after we arrived, my sister and I were given the job of mulching the cabbage; but in order to do that, we had to carry a hay bale across the driveway and into the vegetable patch. We struggled. We groaned. We sweated. But we could barely budge that bale of hay!

A couple boys happened along at that moment. The oldest one was my age, his younger brother was eight. "Please," we begged, "can you help us?"

Although "big brother" looked as if we'd lost our minds, "little brother" saw we were serious and, without a word, grabbed the hay bale with one hand, carried it across the driveway, and tossed it into the garden. Then he ran to catch up with "big brother".

Melody and I stared at each other and gawked at the fellows striding down the road. I don't think a red-caped action hero would have surprised us any more.

Before long, we were toughened too (at least she was). I'll never forget the sight of her driving a team of horses during hay season as the itchy, hot stuff piled high around her and I tossed pitchfork after pitchfork of the stuff-- until my arms felt like they were falling off.

Thankfully, I didn't have to do quite as many outdoor chores as my big sis. It was discovered that I enjoyed cooking, and Mom was quite eager to relinquish that task. But when you live in a tiny, converted pig nursery and your only means of cooking is an enormous, cast-iron wood stove-- then the phrase, "if you can't stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen," takes on a whole new meaning!

Seeing our misery in such conditions, some of the men helped us level and cover a dirt-floor porch where we placed another stove for our "summer kitchen." Then, our table and chairs were moved onto the porch. We even had a sink, with continually-flowing spring water, for our dishes. This was great until Mom found a 6-foot King Snake in the silverware drawer!

When it came to farm life, the only thing that made us look legit was our short-haired collie, Ginger. After rescuing her on the side of the road, it became obvious that she was born for farm life...

One morning, as we were eating breakfast on our hard-packed, screen-less porch, someone glanced up and noticed the goats helping themselves to the strawberry patch. Jumping as one man, my entire family ran after the pesky critters, chasing them back into the pasture and attempting to mend the fence. Half an hour later, we all returned to our breakfast, only to discover that the chickens were making short work of the now-cold meal.

"Ginger, shoo!" That was the dog's cue. She knew it meant: "Get the feathered beasts away from the table!"

Dutifully, the collie complied, barking "ferociously" and charging at the fowl, who scattered in every direction. Then, obviously pleased with her work, Ginger sprang onto the table, snatched a pancake, and sailed to the ground, where she commenced to devour her prize!

Ah, the simple life!

Happy Babies

A week ago today, my best friend gave birth to a little boy! As we were discussing feeding schedules and routines, I realized there were some important things I forgot to mention in my Squidoo lens on Postpartum Exhaustion. Last night, I updated the article, adding "Six Steps to a Sleeping Baby" and "Days and Nights Mixed Up?"

Please feel free to check it out and pass it on!

Eliminate Postpartum Exhaustion

Here's an excerpt from my Squidoo page:

BABY WISE!

I realize the controversy surrounding this book, but having trained four babies on it, I just can't imagine life without Baby Wise!

The authors have a common-sense approach to training babies to sleep through the night, by establishing good patterns for feeding and sleeping. Anyone interested in getting a full night's sleep after baby comes, should definitely look into this!

After helping my friend establish a routine for her newborn, I was tickled when the Daddy commented, "Is that OUR baby? She's so...happy!"

Wisdom to Those that Ask

During Friday's post, I really had no intention of discussing Christian Modesty, but was merely attacking my own lackadaisical attitude towards dressing habits; still, as I read the post comments, I realize the same applications can be made towards this rather sticky subject.

Some people, like the Pharisees, place all emphasis on the outward appearance. Their list of "Do's and Don'ts" is monumental, as they eye the rest of the world with a certain smugness, because they're not like "them."

So our culture takes it to the opposite extreme: It's only the inside that counts. Follow your heart. Do what "feels good" to you; and who cares what someone else thinks... Is there a balance?

What really matters anyway? The Inside? The Outside? Or have we just got it all Upside Down?

Personally, I went through a time of struggle with this, and if it wasn't for my Beloved, I honestly don't know how far I would have allowed bitterness to take me. I was sick of my own hypocrisy; and the desire to throw off everything I had been taught was so strong at times,- but thankfully my husband kept me in check.

I can't be someone else's conscience (I've got enough problems with my own!) but I can encourage you again through the words of Martin Luther. (Yes, it's my favorite quote!) As the bold monk stood before Emperor Charles V, he bravely declared, "Unless I am shown my error by the Scriptures and plain reason, I cannot recant..." then as all men stood breathless, he continued, "my conscience is captive to the Word of God, and to violate conscience is neither right, nor safe..."

So I ask: Is your conscience captive to the Word of God in this area; or are you worried about a fabricated, man-made list of Do's and Don'ts? Are you seeking to honor your husband and the Lord; or have you thrown caution to the wind- so you can follow what "feels good" at the moment? I don't have all the answers, but I know Someone Who does. If you're truly seeking to follow Him, then He will give wisdom to those that ask... (James 1:5)