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From Fear to Fear or from Faith to Faith?

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

hobbit house

I got into a discussion yesterday about home schooling.  It began with the statement (as best I recall), “People home school from a position of fear.”  Being just about finished with defending my position to people who are coming at me from a position of judgment (never having homeschooled themselves, and perhaps wanting to justify putting their kids in the cesspool or should I say “government indoctrination camps” which are also known, unbelievably, as schools), I was perhaps a little more direct than usual.

I agreed that yes, many people do homeschool from a position of fear, from a defensive posture.  But, as I pointed out, they are still, more often than not, quite successful at turning out hard-working, independent-thinking, quality citizens.  I wish I’d said what my husband John said this morning when I talked it over with him.  “They may begin from a position of fear, their feet may tremble as they step out in faith, but they begin.  They step out.”

I am sorry for the myriad of Christians who will someday have to defend that “Let them be salt and light in the public schools” nonsense.  As John said, “You think a five-year-old (or 15-year-old) is going to stand against an institution controlled by an entity who was once God’s right hand man, an entity with thousands of years of experience to perfect his craft of stealing, killing, and destroying (John 10:10)?”

prison wire

And anyway, I ask, how is that working for you?  As John said when I discussed the mental cruelty my granddaughter is receiving in public school (supposedly one of the “best” school systems in her state) John reminded me, “Oh, but she’s being properly socialized.”  I forcibly turned my thoughts away from all the other negatives she’s experiencing in the name of “education.”

The reasons to get your children out of the public school system are numerous, and I won’t go into them right now.  But I do want to come back to that fear assertion.  Perhaps it was fear on this man’s part that prevented him from home schooling –  fear of being ridiculed, criticized, outright persecuted.  Fear of not going along with the crowd, perhaps even fear of his own pastor’s opinion, or whoever it was that first fed him that “salt and light” malarky.

 

Fear.  Maybe it first gained a stronghold in his mind via his childhood training in following the crowd, in trying to fit in, in wanting to be accepted, popular, “cool” like everyone else.  Indeed, perhaps he is just another victim of the public school system, where we all (most of us at least) learned: not to rock the boat, to color inside the lines, and to judge.  To fear.

II Timothy 1:7 – “For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind.

Don’t take my word for it, don’t take anyone else’s word against it:  Get God’s opinion, and remember He said “Train up your child,” NOT, “Send them out for someone else to indoctrinate.”

Twice in the last week I have heard how women who don’t have college degrees aren’t “qualified” to home school.  Faith and Love, not pieces of paper given to 22-year-olds with no children and in many cases, even less than no wisdom, is what qualifies and equips us to train our children.

Faith in the One who made your child, and who chose you as the parent, faith working through love – that’s your ticket.  YOU’RE IT!  YOU CAN DO IT, AND DO IT BRILLIANTLY!  I like to turn the long-ago spoken words of a school board member around. When my dad asked why we (my brother and I) weren’t learning anything, he was told, “We don’t need no smartass city dude tellin’ us how to run our school.”  Newsflash:  WE DON’T NEED NO SMARTASS SCHOOL TELLIN’ US HOW TO RAISE OUR KIDS.

Does the very thought of even thinking about homeschooling make you sweat and gulp?  That probably means it’s time for you to get off the fear merry-go-round and get on the faith train.  What a journey it’s going to be!

child at beach.jpg

En-JOY-ment and Breakfast

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

snow tracks

The root of “enjoy” is the Latin “gaudere” which means “rejoice”.  I believe enjoyment is a responsibility and a choice and a life skill which can be learned.  But first I think it’s worthwhile to understand what enjoyment is NOT.

True enjoyment has no sorrow added to it.  In other words, a movie that I feel “smarmed” from afterward, doesn’t cut the mustard like a long walk in the snow.  Deep wet snow, like today’s, may be a bit difficult to traverse, but there will be no sorrow in this trek.  Rather, there are feelings of accomplishment and invigoration and the righteous earning of homemade hot chocolate, made by yours truly while someone else builds a roaring fire, and we continue discussing whatever came to our stimulated minds as we tried to identify animal tracks in the snow and discussed what we wanted to cook for Easter dinner.

Or I might read a bit and fall asleep on the couch.  Now that’s enjoyment.

cat napping

Yesterday the forecasted 2-4 inches of snow was closer to two feet.  The power went off for many in our area, and because ours was flickering, I cut my quiet time short and began cooking:  a double batch of biscuits, huge pan of scrambled eggs, elk sausages, canned peaches, and two pots of black tea.  What says enjoyment like not just a pot, but TWO pots of tea?

blue teapot

This wasn’t difficult because I prepped almost everything the night before.  I pulled my homemade baking mix out of the freezer, cut in the butter, added cream and milk, rolled out and cut out the biscuits, then put them in a baking dish thickly covered with coconut oil (makes the biscuits nice and crispy/crunchy on the bottom) while the oven was preheating to 450 and baking the sausages (the biscuits will take about 12 minutes at sea level, longer at 8,000 feet).  The kids made tea, set the table, got out the butter, honey, peanut butter, cream pitcher, cinnamon, and peaches, and when the biscuits were five minutes from finished I put the eggs on to scramble.

It takes the stress out of breakfast (where everything needs to be hot) to heat up the plates and serving dishes (it’s more fun if you take your time and serve everything in dishes at the table to be passed around) and to heat the tea pot.  If we’re having coffee (cream cools it) I leave the cream pitcher on the stove and preheat the mugs as well.

coffee pot

HERE’S HOW TO BEGIN:  Put the sausages on (I prefer the oven rather than stove top).  Put the tea kettle on and/or prepare the coffee (another thing to do the night before if you really want to make things nice and easy).  Put the plates (number of eaters plus one to put food on, or simply to stack under or over to help keep the plates hot) in the oven on 175 degrees until you need to preheat for biscuits, or to bake leftover boiled potatoes cut into wedges.  Take the plates out and wrap in dish towels to keep them warm.

Eggs:  We do two eggs per person, add sea salt, pepper, nutmeg and a little cream.  It’s nice if you’ve whipped them up the night before and just have to pull the bowl out of the fridge.  Heat your pan a bit, then right when you’re ready to pour the eggs in, add your oil of choice (I prefer organic lard).

Right after you put the eggs on to scramble (remember this is when the biscuits have about five minutes to go) pour your steaming water into the teapot – I keep my teapot on the warming zone on my new Hallelujah stove (you can also heat by filling with hot water from the sink – then dump the water, put in the tea bags and you’re ready when it’s time to brew).  Stir the eggs, give further instructions to kids (“don’t forget napkins, put milk in the cream pitcher,” etc.),  and give a “5 minutes til breakfast” call, then remove tea bags – this is according to taste, of course.  I don’t usually brew as long as the package says, and I usually use four bags per tea pot, and loose tea I sort of eyeball – about half the tea infuser full usually does it.

tea assortment

If something is awry (say your sausages aren’t ready) just go ahead with everything else – someone pouring tea, passing the eggs, giving thanks, and get the sausage to the table a little late – no problem.  Sausage is welcome whenever it arrives!  If you burned the eggs a bit, just add more pepper and call them Cajun-style.

When you get all this on the table you will  truly be the MVP, the Star of the Snow, the Queen of the Castle.  And no one will say “I’m hungry for a very long while.”

Enjoy!

P.S.  About that baking mix – DO NOT BUY THIS AT THE STORE.  JUST SAY “NO TO YUCK!”

My recipe, which, as all recipes, should be tweaked and personalized by you:

10 cups of various and assorted, or simply one kind of flour – in this particular batch I used 6 cups of unbleached non-GMO wheat flour, three cups of white whole wheat (again non-GMO – I get this at Wal-Mart or Sprouts, and it’s Wheat Montana Farms and Bakery), 1 cup of quick cooking oats.

3 Tablespoons of baking powder (non-aluminum)

1 teaspoon of baking soda

1 Tablespoon of sea salt (less if regular salt)

1/2 cup of powdered milk (I still add whole milk and cream, but the biscuits will turn out with water only)

Stir these dry ingredients together very thoroughly and separate into freezer bags according to your preferred outcome.  I made three 3-cup bags and one 2.5-cup bag.  This is a lot for most people.  The 3-cup bag makes 15-18 large biscuits, of which I put back some for leftovers to wrap in foil and heat in the oven for the next day’s breakfast.

For the 3-cup mix I used two sticks of butter (will turn out with just one if you’re butter-conscious) and 1.5 cups of milk/cream (this was mostly milk with about 1/4 cup of heavy whipping cream).  I also added about a teaspoon of apple cider vinegar to the milk (makes buttermilk of a sort).  If your mix is a little too moist, put flour on your hands, on top of the dough, and extra on the counter (or wherever you roll out your biscuits).  If it’s too dry, add a little more liquid.  No fretting allowed.  ENJOY this.

VARIATION:  Before adding butter and milk, stir in some (maybe two Tablespoons) organic sugar, about a cup (1/2 is fine) of chopped walnuts, pecans, flaked coconut, dried apricots or raisins, or any combination thereof, and call them scones.  Yum for sure.

SONY DSC

ALWAYS:  Serve with butter and love, as butter, after all, is love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Inkspill No. 12: Vote the Word

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

I couldn’t make a post to top this one of my daughter Hannah’s.

“Well, who do you think is pretty?”

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

mannequin2

When my daughter Jane was ten and carrying on about the latest Hollywood sensations, John pulled a face at her taste.  “Well, who do you think is pretty?” she demanded.

“You.  Your mother.  My mother, my granny, my sister,” he replied.  Out of all the brilliant things John has said, that was one of the most brilliant.

That was years ago, but this morning I awoke thinking about how our society makes heroes out of quite and very unheroic women, at least as compared to those near and dear to me.  What, I wondered, would I say to anyone asking me, not who was pretty, but who was beautiful, heroic, worthy of praise and emulation in my life?

“My mother, my grandmother, my mother-in-law, my sisters-in-law, my friends, my daughters, daughter-in-law, and granddaughters.”

I remember my dad talking about my grandmother chasing a poisonous snake who was trying to escape under their house.  “You’ll not get near these children,” she shouted as she brought a garden hoe down on it, severing it’s head.  When I was little she used to put The Happy Goodmans on to play for me.  She deftly peeled what may have been the world’s best tomatoes (grown in her weedless garden) with her ever sharp paring knife, sliced them into thick, fat, juicy slices and served them to me with salt.   One day, I vowed, I would do that for someone.

tomatoes

But how would I ever emulate my mom?  I’ll never be as strong as she is was my silent concern.  She never stopped moving except maybe once on “slow” days for a cup of coffee and a Lucky Strike.  She was up before us to put a fantastic breakfast (a platter full of meat, eggs, biscuits, gravy) on the table, to starch our jeans, and then off (for the second time) to her many-thousand chickens.  She was up waiting when I got home from basketball games (once it was 2:00 a.m. and there she stood, leaning on the kitchen counter for support, smoking her Lucky Strike).  She didn’t say “I love you” she did love.

coffee

And then there’s my mother-in-law who taught my manly man husband to cook, can, sew, clean, iron, and to always be clean, neat, and presentable.  So when our youngest, Seth, was born, John brought the older three to the hospital looking like little dolls.  The nurses went on about it.  “Who dressed those kids?” one asked.  I was bewildered.  Who do you think? 

“John did,” I told her.  “Well, I never!” she said.  “Just look at them.  All spit and polish!”  And so I looked.  Their clothes were ironed, Benjamin’s hair parted perfectly, the girls’ hair curled, their eyes shining.  In other words, looking like kids should look when they’re coming to see their new sibling and their mother.  Did other dads bring the kids to see mom looking any other way?  Evidently.  Talk about dumb as a post.

And who was to thank for that?  My mother-in-law.  Well, and John being smarter than a post.

And then there are my sisters-in-law (brothers’ wives) who stayed with my brothers through thick and thin, who are excellent mothers, citizens, and friends.  As for John’s sister, even when her life was falling COMPLETELY apart, she was fun, kind, and positive.  How many women “leaders” can say that?  These sisters of mine!  All of them are absolutely indispensable to the welfare of all of us blessed by their presences in our lives.  I really could never say enough about any of them.

I won’t even start with my friends, except to say that my dad was right when he said to me years ago, “Bev, you’ve always had truly good friends.”  Indeed I have.  They have filled gaps, dried tears, inspired, listened, commiserated, advised, and loved me through some pretty dark days.  Real women, that’s what they are.

And then there are my daughters, daughter-in-law, and granddaughters.  Let me just say right here that there aren’t a handful of movie stars in history as lovely as these young women, as brilliant, funny, kind, or true.

I’ve said all this to say that we might stop taking note of celebrities who we’ll most likely never even meet, and start celebrating those women near and dear.

little girl praying

 

 

Just say “Yes” to the Idea of Home Schooling Your Child

~ Bev Parker ~ 2 Comments

A young girl reading the current events in a newspaper; isolated on white background.

          People worry about bad things that might happen to their kids in public school – kids getting fat due to unhealthy food, kids being bullied, kids getting shot.  But they don’t seem to worry about the certainties:  Their kids will be institutionalized, and taught that they are nothing, less than nothing, in fact. 
 sad child
          A few years back we took a trip to visit a famous museum, where I was appalled at the exhibit “proving” that we are all products of nothing more than “oxygen pollution.”  Yes, there are worse things than being highly developed apes.  One can have affection and regard for an ape.  But to be nothing more than pollution?  You can try all the self-esteem training in the world, but it won’t take over deeply-embedded programming such as this.
          The truth is that every one of us is unique in all the world, uniquely qualified to do something marvelous for God and man.  This is the goal of education:  the love and adventure of learning of who our Maker is, why He made us, and the equipping for the task.
  child at beach with mom's shoes
          Pastor Keith Moore recently said, “We need to be delivered from this desperate need for others’ approval.”  I submit to you that we got that mentality in public school.  We learned to follow the crowd, to strive for the grade, to fit in and be “cool” in public school. 
          Yes, of course all this happens in most private schools as well, but many private schools are Christian, and therefore do not denigrate the child with anti-Creation messages.  However, there is one way to be certain your child is taught the intrinsic value of every human, and that is to believe it yourself and teach it at home. 
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          Oh, you’re doing that?  Once in a while. And you think you can counter that pervasive message from “educators” just fine.  And how about the influences of children whose parents have failed to teach them kindness and respect?
          We recently visited friends whose pre-schooled child talked back to her mom and it was like listening to a rebelling teenager.  I was so grieved.  A child that age should be over the moon in love with her mommy.
mom and baby
          So what do I suggest?  Home schooing.  Of course. 
          Before you start your tired mantra:  I can’t, I couldn’t, I’m not qualified, I have to work, I’m a single parent, my kids drive me nuts . . . Just stop for a second.  Consider the idea.  What if you could?  What if you at least prayed about it?  What if it’s true that where there’s a will there’s a way? 
 father and child
          You may not be qualified, but it’s probably not for the reasons you think.  I once read about a woman who decided against home schooling and was glad she did when she saw her kindergartner standing in line.  She knew that had she home schooled ,her daughter would never have learned this “skill.”
          When our kids were young teens we enrolled them in Karate.  When the instructor told the class to line up our kids just stood there.  John laughed and I rolled my eyes.  Hannah later said she knew what a line was, but she just thought she should be first and everyone should get behind her.  How’s that for a different perspective?
girlinswing
          Back to the woman who thinks standing in line is an important life skill.  This woman is not smart enough to home school.  But you are, or you wouldn’t be reading my blog.  If you potty trained that child and taught her to talk and how to tie her shoes, you can teach her to love learning and be a life-long performer in the dance of life. 
dancing girl

Would you just be still?

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

The question:  Is it perseverance or pig-headedness, initiative or insanity?

The answer:  It depends on whose behavior I’m trying to change, whose revelation I’m trying to get.

yellow birds

The tried but not true way of living is to beat my head against a brick wall, yet again.  Maybe if I phrase it just right, wait for just the right opening, pick my timing – maybe this time that thick-headed soul will see the light!

But this morning I decided I just really didn’t want the resultant inevitable headache of the brick wall encounter.  And so . . . believe it or not . . . I kept still and silent.  When John finally asked me, “What are you thinking?” I didn’t jump at his throat like a hungry piranha.

piranha

How did this miracle occur?  Because I waited and prayed and thought of what truths I knew, beginning with:  Is this love or is this fear?  I know enough to know that when I’m fretting, frustrated, or consumed with some unpleasant thought pattern, I am in fear.

And so, as I thought of what revelations I wanted John to get, I was reminded that I need not fear, that even if John NEVER sees it my way, God is certainly big enough to get around that.  And so, when he asked me what I was thinking, I said, “I’m thinking that even when we make a mistake, it’s not a mistake.”

And then I went to be alone and pray.  I asked God for a specific word, and I opened my Bible up to Jonah.  I got lots out of that story that I never saw before, and I finished with God telling Jonah, in brief, “Don’t you think I know a few things you don’t know, don’t you know you can be wrong even when you’re absolutely sure your way is the only way?”

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

In short, “Be still and know that I am God.”

I took that literally.  Sit still.  Don’t move.  Don’t be frustrated with the lie-abouts in your house.  Rather be glad they’re all still abed so you can have time and peace.  Stop trying to change others so God can change you.  So you can be still.  And know.  He is God.

woman sitting in grass

Just Say No to (Prescription) Drugs and to Curses, too!

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

The very last thing you need is a socially acceptable drug pusher/curse giver.

I had my first experience with drugs delivering my first child, Vann.  It was Demerol and it was terrifying in a situation where I was already in an abyss of fear.

Next came a double dose (I supposedly had “displaced nerves”) of that crud they put in my spine with Jane’s birth.  My doctor actually tried to talk me out of it, saying, “You’re almost there.  You can do this.”  I have fond memories of him, if not of the effects of those horrible nightmare-inducing drugs.

I had a marvelous Christian doctor with Benjamin, who respected the human body, and the birth was a wonderful experience.  The doctor had nurses trained in midwifery, there were no IV’s, nothing disrespecting to the body and emotions of a woman at the most vulnerable time of her life.  This doctor was a former abortionist, who had become a Christian and was on a mission to save as many babies as possible.  He delivered three other babies that night and at other hospitals, thereby missing Benjamin’s birth by three minutes.  He cried.  We rejoiced.

But then the fun was over.  I was told to abort Hannah, that I wouldn’t survive the pregnancy.  When I refused to abort the doctor yelled, “You don’t understand!”  “No,” I said.  “YOU don’t understand.” See www.thewarmjournal.com for how that turned out and rest assured I changed doctors.

When Hannah was born, a healthy 8-plus pounds, she was taken immediately to ICU (due to medical error).  After two days I was told I had to go home and leave her there for at least two weeks.   I called everyone I knew who would pray in faith and I said, “NO!”

baby hand

If I had to sit on the hospital lawn, and come inside every time they poked and prodded her, to hold her and nurse her and rock her back to sleep, that’s what I would do.  These people caused her problems (36 units of Pitocin and me so many long hours without food because the doctor on call was determined Hannah would be born on her watch, causing not only respiratory issues, but blood sugar as well) and they sure weren’t going to be left alone with her for two weeks.

The morning following my order to exit, I walked into ICU to see the neonatologist and his assistants covered in lead vests, standing over the naked and unprotected chest of my child as they x-rayed her and she screamed in terror.  Before I could protest (what else could they possibly think of to do to her – her entire heels were massive scabs from the incessant prodding with needles, there were needles in her head and pads on her chest) the neonatologist said, “It’s a miracle.  Her lungs are completely clear.  She can go home, but she’ll have to be on oxygen at least two weeks.”  Wrong again.  The nurse who came to our home daily to monitor Hannah, announced after three days that there was really no need for her to be on oxygen.

Hannah wouldn’t have anything to do with anyone but me for eleven months, but other than that, there have been no ill effects.  I prayed with a vengeance that not only would Hannah be a healthy child, but that she would be the healthiest of all my children.  And she is and has always been.  If the others caught a bug, she would skip it, or have only the slightest of symptoms.  She is strong and energetic and a picture of health.  So, too, is her little sister Rebekah.

I was told I would never conceive again, with that ever present attitude of, “You’re not Mormon or Catholic, so why are you having all these kids?”  Well, let’s not go there.  Along came Rebekah. I was told I couldn’t carry Rebekah, that I would miscarry.  When that didn’t happen I was told I would not be able to have a natural birth with her.  Wrong again.

After still more abuses at the hands of physicians with Seth’s birth (let me say here that I always had the best of nurses) I was finished with the world’s way of “healing” and went with God’s.

If you have had enough of the “cut and drug” medical world, try Jesus.  Get in the Word of God and see what it says.  You’ll find the One who created you can also heal you.  You’ll find that plants are to be our medicines.  And if you’re unfortunate enough to belong to a denomination teaching that “healing and miracles have passed away” just pray for them and keep on reading what your Maker says.  He is, believe it or not, smarter than many “interpreters” of what He says.

P.S.  I haven’t been to see an establishment medical doctor since I left the hospital at Seth’s birth, over 16 years ago, and I get healthier every day.

P.P.S.  And I sure as heck am no user of drugs, be they legal or otherwise.  Or as they used to say where I grew up, “I aint no doper.”

 

 

Is This Romance or a Colossal Waste of Time?

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

woman reading photo

So many books, so little time.  Why, then, am I reading the most forgettable of books?  Because I am trying to escape laziness by being lazy.  Say what?

I recently read two very different books.  The second one is so forgettable (by a very successful modern author) that I won’t bore you with its title.  The first book, however, sent me to Alibris.com to see what else I might find by the author.  I started this book during Thanksgiving week, so it took a while to finish.  But even as I was busy with other quite enthralling and enjoyable activities, I was thinking about the book, about the main character’s dilemma.  I was, as I explained to my family, “intensely involved’ in this story.

book on desk with glasses

Right.  The name of the book:  Lady Audley’s Secret by Mary Elizabeth Braddon.  This book enhanced my thinking, revved up my mental engines.  Like another recently enjoyed excellent book, North and South by Elizabeth Gaskell, Lady Audley’s Secret satisfied my heart’s desire for new insights and revelations, as well as reacquaintance with deep and almost forgotten heart’s truths.

So, why again do I pick up twaddle and use up precious hours of my life reading it, and then forgetting it as soon as possible?  It’s called “escape” and aptly so, but to where?  I escaped to intriguing worlds with Mary Elizabeth Braddon and with Elizabeth Gaskell, but with the author who must not be named I escaped to . . . I don’t remember.

 

beautiful library

So many bad (inane, intelligence insulting, smut-filled) books.  So many good books.  I choose good.

Oh, and one more thing!  Beware the “poignant” books.  This usually means the author’s life stinks and he/she wants yours to, also, via reading this tripe.  Try instead something whose very feel in your hands makes you say, “I wonder what’s in here.”

old books

Marriage Makers vs. Marriage Breakers

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

OUT  WITH THE JUDGMENT, IN WITH THE JOY!

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“Take the word ‘should’ out of your vocabulary.  Don’t say ‘should’ unless you’re looking in the mirror.”  A wise woman once said these words to me, and I took them to heart.  Or tried to.  No easy feat, this.

I want to talk today about the dangers of “should” and those of “supposed to” as relating to marriage, or indeed, any relationship.  I will try to avoid a rant, especially when I begin discussing my least favorite of all “supposed to’s”–“The man is SUPPOSED TO be the spiritual head of the house.”  Oooh, I feel my blood pressure rising already, so let’s just back up and talk about “should” dangers.

We each and every one have full plates–plenty, plenty of things to work on in our own selves.  But, alas, when a lass begins focusing on all those shortcomings of her mate (friend, sibling, parent, co-worker) her eyesight is adversely affected.  She looks right over the running-over pile on her plate.  To put it another way, worrying yourself about someone else’s faults will make you blind to your own.  You will personify that person admonished in the Bible to get the giant plank out of their own eye instead of worrying about the speck in someone else’s (Matthew 7:3,4).  Sounds like looking at someone else’s little faults actually gives our own room to grow.

And if this is not bad enough, when we zero in on another’s faults, their eyes become wide open to our faults!  I don’t know about you, but I certainly don’t need that.

Should-ing people is, however, a fine and sure way to decrease your popularity, in case you are that rare person who prefers being unpopular, who likes to be thought of as an ill wind or a foul odor.  While I’m not overly concerned with popularity in general, I am quite concerned about being popular with my mate.  It just makes sense to me.

OK, here we go with a cousin to should:  supposed to.  The statement, “The man is supposed to be the spiritual head of the household,” has caused misunderstanding, anger, and disappointment  in more than one relationship.  What in fact, does that mean, anyway?  It depends on who you ask.  These words, tossed about from preacher to congregation, from husband to wife and from wife to husband, mean something slightly, or radically, different to everyone.  Often, however, they aren’t owned words–words taken in by the man and developed by God.  Rather, they are thrown words–words accusing of shortcoming, of failure.

Wife and husband rarely see that statement in the same light, but neither do they communicate about their respective perceptions.  So, as they become frustrated with each other, and as the children see their dad failing at this obviously all-important mandate, the water of family life circles the drain.

Like “should,” “supposed to” is a  boomerang.  When you tell someone else what they should do (unless of course, they ask for, respect, and desire your opinion, which they rightly trust will be delivered in love) you become blind to your own duties of love and responsibility, and you focus the eyes of your accused on your own shortcomings.

These behaviors put you in a place of chaos, a place where you step out of touch with God’s voice and plan for yourself, even as you interfere with what He may be trying to say to your victim.  That’s right, I said VICTIM.

The bottom line is you are judging, and as promised, you will be judged, you will have a sad and sorry outcome.  Just as a wise woman once said, “Take ‘should’ out of your vocabulary.”  And as another wise (at least in this instance) woman adds, “Take ‘supposed to’ out at the same time.

The Maker’s Marriage Excerpt

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

“The thief cometh not, but for to steal, and to kill, and to destroy: I am come that they might have life, and that they might have it more abundantly.”— John 10:10

“For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in high places.” – Ephesians 6:12

Chapter 2 – Recognizing the Enemy

      Your mother-in-law is not the enemy

A friend tells me she and her husband always join her parents and her husband’s parents (at the same time) during holidays and birthdays, and she says this with joy. Wow! What a concept. Don’t they know that in-laws are always outlaws? Don’t they know you just have to put up with these people, and no one expects you to actually like them?

In Biblical times most families considered marriage serious business. Two young whippersnappers weren’t just sent out into the wilderness among the wild beasties and forgotten. No, indeed. There was preparation—spiritual, financial, physical. There was feasting and rejoicing. Not only was a new family formed, but the existing families on both sides were now considered one family by all parties. They were made one by a sacred covenant. It is no wonder, for example, that Ruth stayed with Naomi. Naomi accepted her not as her son’s poor choice, but as a beloved daughter.     The implications here are huge. The cynic might say it was just the patriarchs doing good business (and what, really, is so bad about good business, and starting marriage off on a sound financial footing?). But let us think about the possibilities in a mindset of acceptance, where his parents love her as a daughter, as hers love him as a son. And let’s forget about how that worked or didn’t work out way back when. Let us make some changes in the here and now.

Yes, this can be a bit tough. I’ll admit it: when I was first around my daughter-in-law’s parents I was curious to get to know them, and polite enough, but that was about it. The idea that God might want me to embrace them as prayer partners for this lovely couple and their child, and enjoy them as new friends with whom I already had much in common, was so foreign it never entered my head. Of course, John and I enjoyed them, and it was a blessing to see their great love for our mutual grandchild. Still, in spite of all the evidence, and common sense’s suggestion that we should be close friends, family even, deep down I didn’t believe we could. I certainly had never seen such a thing.

In fact, I saw the opposite. Grandma (maternal grandparent) had no liking for my dad, and Grannimother (paternal grandparent) not a lot for my mom. So, in spite of the fact that Mom loved Grannimother and that in her later years Grannimother often wanted Mom’s care rather than that of her own children, there was always that thing, that barrier that never quite fell: you don’t ever truly and completely love and accept your in-laws.

Following the example of their parents, is it any wonder couples think division is normal? Rather than having a faithful, stalwart, and wise cheering section from both sides of the family, they accept as inevitable such evils as competition, jealousy, and Strife.

Even if you, like my parents, had mothers-in-law who were simply not behaving well, and had no intention of ever doing so, you, smart girl, can overcome. Let me tell you a little story that will give you an idea or two about where to begin.

Once upon a time we moved to a tiny mountain village where outsiders were suspect, to put it mildly. The children’s librarian told me she didn’t agree with my homeschooling, the general store employees told us we’d made a mistake moving to their town, and the postmaster was so reserved I felt like apologizing for asking to buy a stamp.

It came to light that we were disliked before we ever came to town due to the whining of the couple we replaced in our new job. Never mind they were fired long before we were hired. Logic has little to do with such matters.

So I said my mantra: A smart girl like you oughtta be able to figure this out. Then it came to me. Cookies! I am a good cook—a little more butter and salt, extra nuts, raisins, organic brown sugar, chocolate chips, etc. I baked cookies and took them to the post office, library and general store. I invited the librarian over for Thanksgiving, and made a point of complimenting and thanking the postmaster. As a family, we prayed for the entire village and individuals as they came to mind. I asked the elderly how they felt and gave out free essential oils for their aches and pains. I set out to bless the town.

It wasn’t long until I began to get compliments on my kids instead of criticism of my methods. The librarian asked what we wanted in the library as far as books and programming, and the postmaster became someone I looked forward to seeing.

It is a rare person who cannot be won over, and even if they never like you, you will come to like and even to love them, if you bless them long enough. So, it won’t matter what they do and say—the sting will be gone. And yes, what’s good for the post master is good for the mother-in-law. And the mate.

     Your Mate is not the Enemy

 When it comes to marriage the stakes are higher (marriage success is the ultimate success, and considerably more important than favor at the post office), obedience to God is tougher, and the battle is more fierce. But the enemy is the same.

So, back to your mate, the scoundrel. If he’s not the enemy (just bear with me) then who is? And what good does identification do, you ask? Well, does a policeman shoot in the dark in the general direction of where the burglar was last seen, or would he prefer some night vision equipment before he starts wasting ammo?

OK, clever you. You know I’m going to say the enemy is Satan, and based on the awful things you and your mate each said in your last fight, that’s a believable assertion. So what now? Now you get over any and all teaching that scoffs at the idea of demonic influences and spiritual warfare. Now you get into the New Testament like your life (and marriage) depends on it. Because actually, it does. Study and become adept at putting on and keeping on the full armor of God.

As you study this, beginning in Ephesians, you will notice that after you’ve fully donned the armor of God you are admonished to pray for all the saints. It is my experience that this—praying for others—will keep your armor intact. And always remember, pray first and last for that one God has given you to love first and last.

            The Brain on Strife

You may recall the aforementioned scripture, James 3:16 – “For where envying and strife is, there’s confusion and every evil work.” I was praying for revelation about the full implications of this one day and I got a vision in my head of a brain on Strife. There were wires tangled everywhere, running amok over and under each other, in blue, yellow, orange and green. They all had little round connector pads on their ends, but they were connected to the wrong parts of the brain, and it was obvious the signals were getting crossed and going to the wrong places and nothing was making any kind of sense for this poor brain. This—chaos—is what happens to logic in the presence of sin (Strife being the operative sin in this particular case).

Once Satan has the upper hand (via Strife) your behavior will be appalling. Don’t waste your time lamenting the immaturity of your mate. It takes two to tango. Does your spouse’s awful behavior justify yours being just as bad? Are you really OK with a Pre-K maturity level?

I have to admit I speak from experience. John used to call me Teflon Woman. “Nothing sticks,” he explained, as I simply refused to ever take the blame. Incidentally, refusing to take the blame and responsibility for one’s actions is a symptom of ASPD (anti-social personality disorder), or to be blunt, it is the behavior of a sociopath. Well, I prefer to say I was simply immature. And I hasten to add that once I thought a bit about it, I realized my “I didn’t do it, not my fault” mentality was an open door for the enemy in our marriage. I decided Teflon Woman wasn’t really who I wanted to be.

Suggested Reading: House by Ted Dekker (not for the faint-hearted); Spiritual Warfare by Joseph Prince, who discusses how-to’s of binding the Spirit of Strife; and Dr. Caroline Leaf’s Switch on Your Brain: The Key to Peak Happiness, Thinking, and Health, in which Dr. Leaf states, The great news is that we are wired for love, which means all our mental circuitry is wired only for the positive, and we have a natural optimism bias wired into us.

Key to Victory: Know and refuse your enemy.