family

The Marriage Connoisseur, Chapter 3

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

“Not what we have, but what we enjoy, constitutes our abundance.” – Epicurus

Chapter 3–Unforced Rhythms of Grace

Whose Plan is This, Anyway?

            Make a plan!  Set a goal!  Get up at 5:00!  Better still, at 4:00!  I made my plan and it was a good one.  And then our guest showed up three hours early.  And there was a big thunderstorm which drove my loved ones indoors.  Next my daughter called asking me to call the sheriff’s office about cows on the highway.

            All these things went away, and my son decided to come inside and dry off over coffee with me, this after my husband cooked a late breakfast and clearly wanted and indeed needed my help with a crossword and for me to join him at breakfast.

            Flexibility is a great attribute, as opposed to being married to a plan, which will often end in throwing up our hands and forgetting the whole thing.  Whether we’re trying to write a book or read one, we can take what I call a “sneaky view” of interruptions.

            By that I mean envisioning ourselves as navigating all these things, still arriving at our destination, but richer for the delays.  This requires a bit of getting alone and thinking things out.  “I won’t tell anyone, no one will know that things aren’t going to plan,” I whisper to myself.  “I’m not the least bit put off by this, because I’m way too cool to be derailed by this.  I’ll just take another route.”  Just as when you forsake the interstates for the backroads, there are creativity and joy boosters all along the way. 

            So, rather than being upset, I am looking at having coffee with my son, and being wanted by my husband as good things.  Very good things.  How can I incorporate the feeling of this unexpected blessing (see what I called it) into my writing?  What can I learn?  Shall I take a walk now, or go back to writing?

            There are, of course, those times when I have to build stronger than usual structures for my plan.  For instance, on this particular morning I could have shut myself up in my room with an announcement to beloveds:  Please do not disturb unless the house is on fire, and even then, do so at your own risk.  I could have told them I’m way behind where I hoped to be by this time, and I’m off to a coffee shop where no one knows my name, and by the way, don’t call me even if the house is on fire.

            I can turn off my phone, ignore the house phone and forget about e-mails and excellent writing tutorials.  Even if I only sit on the balcony with a cup of tea (wasn’t that in my plan?  If not, it should have been) and read Georgette Heyer (it’s writing training) or do nothing at all (wasn’t that in my plan?  If not, it should have been) it’s a step in my life dance, made more rhythmic and interesting via being unplanned.

            However . . . if these feelings of frustration and desperation become commonplace, and there’s no use trying to put any spin on it besides pure aggravation and defeat, I know it’s time to take a thing or two off the table.  Literally, in my case.  It’s time to back off of some of the cooking.  It’s time to do what makes me more creative, simple things such as making the bed and taking a walk–and to stop trying to be Doer of All Things.  It’s time for more time with the Author and Finisher of my Faith, the Giver of Grace–unforced rhythms of grace. 

            Because for me, it really is all about family.  And they (especially my beau) only need me to be happy—in a  state of grace.  Amen. 

What is this Burden?

            Real men don’t whine–John qualifies.  But when the burdens get heavy, unless I’m too wrapped up in my own self, I can sense things are amiss.  Then, contrary to popular opinion, it’s not time for advice, thinly veiled criticism, or even getting mad on his behalf at whoever or whatever is causing him grief. 

            It’s time, rather, to just be a bit closer and softer, a little nicer and kinder, and stay tuned.             

Women Often Lament . . .

            Women often lament about things that just aren’t so.  Homemakers, for instance, in thinking that their husbands have all the fun “going off” to work while they’re “stuck at home,” are buying lies heaped upon lies.  There is very little fun about making a living as done by most men.  Most men quietly answer to endless aggravations and often ulcer-producing work situations.  There are unreasonable and demanding bosses, office politics, senseless rules and regulations, intolerable co-workers, thankless and creativity-killing tasks, mind-numbing commutes, and the sense that they’re little different than hampsters on a wheel, with no end in sight.

            On what mountain of insanity did women decide it would be better to have what men have?  Having worked as men work—as a carpenter’s helper growing up and later for John in a similar capacity, I can tell you women’s work is not harder.  It’s just different, and thank God for that!

            Am I being “old fashioned” and setting women back a century?  No.  But I would like to set us back about 60 years, at least in some areas.  How lovely to have the time of day, presence of mind, order, freedom from endless distractions, and the energy for hospitality and family trips as did many of the women of my mom’s generation.        As I am not a fan of wishful thinking, I submit that we can have much of that again, by beginning to be honest about what’s in our hearts, and what we truly want (hint:  it’s not to be what we aren’t, which is men).

Another Lament

            Women often lament that their husbands don’t open up, won’t talk about things.  Some of that is because, as I said, real men don’t whine; some is because they just need to work through some things; some because they didn’t have such a good outcome the last time they opened up.

            It’s a challenge that must be met not to treat husbands as kids.  It doesn’t matter if they sometimes act quite similar.  They aren’t.  Another challenge is to remember who they are—fearfully and wonderfully made children of the Most High, and deserving of honor, consideration and respect, whether they act like it or not.

            We reap what we sow.

Suggested Reading:  Matthew 11:28-30, The Message.

Key to Victory:  Read aloud Luke 21:19 and pray it over yourself as a declaration.

Music:  Psalms sung by you.  I dare you—try it, I mean infused with your very own self, your very own love.

Thoughts and Prayers:

Have You Bought the Lie?

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

The home truth is beautiful, so unutterably beautiful.

A young man once told my husband that his wife wasn’t using her education, helping with the finances (they had kids).  John said, “Nothing you will ever do is as important as what she’s doing at home with those kids.”

A respected woman with many, many YouTube viewers recently talked about how we all have a ministry, and could be reaching the whole world with a YouTube channel.  She said to stop with the excuses—not enough time, not tech savvy, later when the kids are grown . . . . . There was more—about callings and purposes, about building things . . .

And then she said an indicator that you might need to be building a YouTube ministry is if it’s already what you do—the one who prays for people, the one people call for encouragement—that sort of thing.

There’s a lot in that, and it’s worth a bit of a ponder, a chewing on, before swallowing.  First, if you have a family, you have a ministry, and it can change the world.  Second, the answer about waiting until the kids are grown is not an excuse—it’s a priority and a conviction about what’s right and real.  And third–what if you spend all that building-and-blessing-your-own-beloveds time (the ones gifted specifically to you by God), building a YouTube channel? Is that wisdom? Better find out from the One who knows.

It’s not “I can do all things through christ jesus.” It’s, “I can do all things through CHRIST JESUS!” Otherwise, we’re looking in vain for that purpose-driven life, trying to feel like our lives matter, that we matter, and trying to find that approval, that “Job well done!” from a world who doesn’t really know us or care.  Silly, silly.

Daughter Rebekah and I recently watched Love’s Portrait (beautiful, beautiful movie set in Ireland) and while it was a lovely romance, the subplot blessed me as well.  There was a little sister who was told she needed to go make a life for herself.  She said, “I already have.”  Her life was rich and full and she was wise enough to know it, and to ignore all the “wise” ones giving that worth-what-she-paid-for-it advice.

I’m thinking that before we have any advice worth sharing we need to be doing the first and foremost of all ministries and callings, the most world-impacting of all building—we need to build our homes.  Let’s wait a bit on Proverbs 31 vineyard planting and sash sewing and making bunches of money.  Let’s go back to Proverbs 14—The wise woman builds her house–house meaning, among other things worthy, her family.

Building people, making history, ensuring tomorrow—that’s what homemaking is, even if you’re the last woman standing in this lonely arena (you’re not—that’s a lie from Hell) you are among the good and great company of real and true women throughout the ages who knew what was what, as do you.

But you don’t need anyone’s company or approval. You will pray and grow and know that your husband’s heart safely trusts you, and you will be blessed by your children, and you will know that you know your life matters.  And one fine day you will hear, “Well done, good and faithful servant.”

Yes, there’s a whole lot of servant-ing going on in this most excellent of lives, but then Jesus was a servant, wasn’t he? 

The 5 People (possibly?) Fallacy

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

A Closer Look at the “5 People You Hang With” Thing

The saying is that you’re the average of the five people you spend the most time with, and I’m hearing it often.  But I’m not quite comfortable with it—I get a little squirm of doubt and unease every time it’s repeated. While I see the validity of the statement—bad company does indeed corrupt, and good company certainly is a welcome and a needed influence (eating out with people who order steak and salad instead of burgers and fries, and who always look on the bright side, like my sister-in-law Liz) there is still a little squirm of unease and discomfort with the “5 people” mantra, and here are my thoughts and questions about it:

  1.  I’m not a statistic.
  2. I’m not an average.
  3. I am meant to overcome evil (or whatever undesirable influence) with good, not the opposite.
  4. I am not seeing anything in Scripture that says I’m to ditch my family and friends when they aren’t of use/benefit to me.
  5. This sounds like bravery, but is it?  Wouldn’t real bravery speak up when needed, or do the opposite of the crowd when wisdom so dictates?
  6. If I can see the problem, aren’t I called to be a good example by not joining in?
  7. Wouldn’t praying in love and faith be simpler and more beneficial for all parties than simply seeking a new circle?
  8. Can’t God be trusted to bring those new relationships into my life, even as He can be trusted to lead me with the current ones?
  9. Am I trying to escape something/someone I need to face, and thereby grow in freedom and grace?
  10. Could it be that I’m not the marvel my imagined new circle will welcome with open arms?

This statement, I believe, has value when you’re trying to get free from parasites/addicts—when your life actually depends on leaving a circle of death.  But for your family and friends, maybe you’re just meant to be the voice of reason, the doer of the beautiful, the example, the prayer warrior.  Or maybe you’re in a situation like mine has been lately—I am meant to allow the relationship to be so covered with grace, that my flesh has to shut up, that I have no alternative to doing the only thing that ever really changes things:  Trust God.

And here’s another maybe:  maybe you’re meant to be like Pastor Mark Hankins’ mama, who when the talk got negative said, “Let’s talk about Jesus.”  If that didn’t do the trick, she began singing the song, “Let’s talk about Jesus.”  Eventually people get the message—even the one in the mirror.

Revival of What?

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

I have been, with so many others, praying for revival in our land, in the world, in the church. But it occurs to me we might want to agree with God’s reasons for revival, and we might pray a little deeper about this. I feel I am treading on dangerous ground here, when I say we need to pray for revival not so gas prices go down, and wages go up, and life becomes safer and more comfortable. Yes, these are all nice things, but let’s have pure motivation, purified via abiding in Christ Jesus, so that we pray for revival with a heart of flesh.

Again, lets pray a little deeper, about that place where it all begins: at home. We can never pray too passionately for families–that marriages are strong, couples simply awash in the Love of God. Let us pray that children are so intensely valued that we see them exactly as their Creator sees them–the greatest imaginable of gifts, and worthy of training, discipline, and focused attention–undergirded by unending prayer and warfare.

Why not stop speaking what is: skyrocketing divorce rates, kids left bereft and easy prey for any predator and taker, pornography in schools, etc. How about we believe the Word of God which tells us, in short, that we have what we say. Let’s declare what we want (and INTEND) to see, rather than what is. When we lament what the enemy is up to, and what he’s already accomplished, it’s glorifying him and his work. It’s a perverse/death-bringing use of the tongue (see Proverbs 18:21).

We not only have what we say, we believe what we say. So, let’ say something that’s truth–something believable, remembering that everything Satan does, every evil, is based on a lie. It’s a lie that we can’t overcome, that any battle is too far gone, that we have to just wait it out and hope we survive.

We are not just conquerors. We are more than conquerors. When will we see this truth? When we believe God and say what He says; when there is a revival in our own hearts.

In reading the following aloud, and not fussing about the KJV translation (or just read in your own Bible) you will feel hope arise in your heart. And, I pray, the peace of God. And the Love that works with faith to bring . . . revival!

Romans 8: 31-39

What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?

He that spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not with him also freely give us all things?

Who shall lay any thing to the charge of God’s elect? It is God that justifieth.

Who is he that condemneth? It is Christ that died, yea rather, that is risen again, who is even at the right hand of God, who also maketh intercession for us.

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or peril, or sword?

As it is written, For thy sake we are killed all the day long; we are accounted as sheep for the slaughter. 

Nay, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him that loved us.

For I am persuaded, that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come,

Nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Love is Success, Success is Love

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

I appreciate Grant Cardone because so much of what he wrote in The 10X Rule applies to success in the most important thing of all: family. “Pretend,” he writes, “you’re being recorded as a model by which your children and grandchildren will learn how to succeed in life.”

If you’ve read this blog for very long, you know I define success a little differently than most people–something like, “Success is being free from the approval of others, from the tyranny of selfishness. Success is being a homemaker.” It can also be being a butcher, baker, or candlestick maker, as long as in that role we are also the one who doesn’t pass by on the other side when we see the opportunity to give, the opportunity to sacrifice.

(I must pause here to say you don’t impress God when all your giving is done outside your family, and all you have left for them is impatience and unkindness. And judgment.)

Back to sacrifice–WE ARE MADE FOR IT! What story is better than that of the Good Samaritan who “took pity” on the half dead man? I’ll tell you one that is as good, but first a word about the Good Samaritan. He was on his way to somewhere and it was not in his plan, on his calendar, or convenient for him to stop. He was likely a man of affairs and means, as evidenced by his leaving the man at the inn, promising to be back, and promising to pay any and all costs. The innkeeper trusted him and I think that was because people who take the time to help others at great inconvenience to themselves–people who sacrifice–are trusted.

Now for another good story: Once upon a time there were scores and scores of women who “took pity” on their husbands and children, and cared for them, without access to success gurus, social media, nannies, new SUVs or throw-away diapers. They had to lean on the Helper, the One Who (if we will let Him) sticks closer than a brother.

In making such sacrifices they raised children also willing to sacrifice. They were rich inside.

We are created in the image of the God of Sacrifice, and apart from a life of sacrifice, we cannot ever be whole.

This is not a call to return to the “good old days” of twelve diapers and no washing machine, or of no central heating and running water, or having nowhere to go if married to a brute. In America, because of the sacrifices of those who came before us, we live in such a lovely world as regarding physical conveniences and social supports, but not one so lovely when it comes to sacrifice.

It’s time to not only be willing to sacrifice and give, but to be on the lookout for opportunities for doing so. And if you have the immeasurable privilege of having people living in your own house for whom you can sacrfice, it’s time to give thanks, not complaints. Just remember this when the doubts and self-pity come in like a flood: your reward is guaranteed, even if not immediately seen.

If you don’t believe me, read the New Testament. If you don’t believe that, you’re doomed–to the misery of a life without sacrifice.

Pentecost, and all Things Richly to Enjoy

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

 

creek 2

Taking a walk in the cool not-quite-summer breezes the other morning an old question popped into my mind:  Which of the senses would you miss the most, were you to lose it?

Loss of sight would mean no more color, no more iridescent, translucent, sparkling, proof-of- God color.  No more looking into the eyes of my beloveds, no more laughing at a child’s guileless smile.

Not good.

Loss of smell would mean I couldn’t smell this sage I’m crushing in my fingers and thereby being lifted, transported.  Same for the juniper, pine, spruce, fir and cedar on the heavenly breeze.

Loss of smell would mean roast beef and vegetables and gravy and hot buttered homemade bread would be irrelevant.  Also not good.

Loss of smell would mean I wouldn’t notice the clove on John’s breath when he kissed me.

A kiss.  A touch.  Not being able to feel the kissing face, or hugged neck, or the touch of a hand of another of God’s children.

marmot

Hearing.  A marmot is sounding the alarm because the dogs are busy sniffing out his rock pile, and the spring snowmelt has made the creek practically roar as it rushes out of its banks, but not above my favorite creekside blessing rock.

And I couldn’t hear His praises sung from the depths of the hearts of His children in church this morning, on Pentecost Sunday.  This thought makes me catch my breath from the sudden glitch of alarm, the actual physical ache, in my spirit.  But, on this day of all days, I am choosing not to think about “what ifs” and possible losses.  I am thinking of my utter inability to even begin to grasp the magnitude of the Love of God.  This is the sense I want to exercise, increase, develop.  This is the realm into which I want to delve more deeply.  More richly.

He has given us all things richly to enjoy.  I call the dogs off and they happily dash off to the next thrill, all senses alert.  He has given us all things richly to enjoy.  This thought again wafts into my mind and I think of how all the senses will be alive and blessing me at once if I simply take this walk with a loved one, sit by the creek eating roast beef on homemade bread with also homemade mayo, and watch steam swirl up out of a thermos of tea as we sip and smile at each other.  And as we see on each others’ faces peace.  How beautiful, how marvelous.  Oh, Lord, our Lord, how majestic is Your Name in all the earth.

In all the earth.  He has given us so much to enjoy.  Let us not, in pursuits of manmade enjoyments and entertainments, forgo, forget, become blind to, the wonderful world He has made.  In all of our seeking, with all of our senses, let us tune into Him.  Let us daily live a life of Pentecost.  Amen.

 

 

 

 

“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

 

 

The Stupid Question: What About Socialization?

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

child in hat and glasses

“Precisely.”

That’s what to say when you’re asked this most aggravating and ignorant of questions about why your child isn’t being institutionalized.

“But aren’t you concerned about socialization?”

“Yes.  That’s one of the reasons we homeschool.”

Total confusion on their part.

Patient sigh on yours.

“First of all, we aren’t socialists.  We don’t believe the state knows best.  We don’t believe the state owns us or our children.”

“Secondly, we don’t think hanging out all day long (mostly sitting) with ignorant little kids who look, talk, dress, and are in more ways than not, exactly alike, is proper socialization. ”

“In fact, we think it’s extremely unnatural, unhealthy, and stifling.”

Oh, and we’re too nice to say so, but it’s your kids and grandkids (it’s mostly old fools who come after us on this)  who won’t look us in the eyes when we attempt to converse with them, who mutter or don’t answer at all, who display an alarming dearth of original thought and logic if they do venture an opinion, not our poor little homeschooled “hicks.”

We have always gotten compliments on our kids – on their ability to converse with people of all ages, backgrounds, religions, cultures, and races; on their friendliness, kindness, respect, and their obvious enjoyment of life and each other.

Seth and RebekahBenjamin and Hannahall four kids

Yes, you can search and find kids like ours, and they may even be kids who are public-schooled.  Don’t know, haven’t seen that very much.  But why go to the trouble?  Why not just homeschool?

Yes, your kids will miss out if you homeschool.  They’ll miss out on being bullied or becoming bullies, on easy access to drugs, sex, alcohol and porn.  They won’t learn about being one of the “in crowd” or being “cool” and “popular.”  In short, they won’t be social monstrosities, with mountain-tall egos, or “nerds” who hate school.  And if you have even the smallest of success, you will raise individuals who miss out on becoming followers.

You, too, will miss out if you homeschool your children.  You’ll miss them turning into hellions during their teen years.  You’ll miss them losing respect for you and your beliefs, and you’ll miss becoming an embarrassment to their social little arses.

If you homeschool, you’ll miss out on being politically correct and socially acceptable.  And yes, you’ll have to deal with the stupid question.  I’ve given you a few answers, and here are a couple more:  “Who and what successes qualify you to judge me?”, and, “So, what hole do you live in (speaking of socialization) so that you don’t know the abysmal failure public education in America has been proven to be, no matter how you measure it.”

Well, maybe I shouldn’t say “no matter how you measure it.”  Because if your goal is turning out good little robots who lose their sense of personal worth, individual creative prowess, and dare I say, common sense and kindness, then maybe public school is a roaring success.

Go ahead, in the name of socialization, steal your child’s childhood.  Take away his time to play, invent, create, read, read, read, commune with God and nature, and grow into the person God intended, so that he can change the world.

little girl with flower

Look around you.  Do we need even one more just-like-everybody-else person?  Your child is unique in all the world, in all the history of the world.  It will take a huge and concerted effort to make her just like everyone else – socialized.  In fact, you can’t do it alone.  You’ll need all the help you can get to stamp out all that originality and wonder.  Hooray, there’s public education in America!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Real Men

~ Bev Parker ~ Leave a comment

grandpa pic

I nominate my dad for sweetest and handsomest dad and my kids nominate him for best grandpa ever.

If I had to describe my dad in one word it would be “kind.”

I said to my kids (not telling them my word), “I want you to tell me the first word that comes to your mind to describe your grandpa.”

“Stalwart,” Rebekah answered.

“Kind,” said Seth.  “That’s the first word I thought,” Hannah agreed.

I think those two words are what every dad and grandpa should be:  kind and stalwart. 

And if he has giant dimples and an ever-present grin, well that’s just gravy.

Family First?

~ Bev Parker ~ 2 Comments

IMG_7192_p

Or last?

One of the many beauties of home education is that family comes first, naturally.  The fruits of that, provided grace is in place, are unlimited, and this was brought home to me recently when I read an article about eliminating negative people (especially those who hinder living in faith and love) from our lives.

I respect the author of this article, and gave serious thought to her words.  Was I not eliminating such people out of fear of conflict, or perhaps because I’m too nice?  Were they truly a hindrance?  There was no question that these people are difficult and tiring, but were they really a problem?  A spiritual roadblock?

No.  And here’s why:  My family keeps me strong, on track.  We pray with and for each other, and with and for others, every single day.  When I am brought down by someone or something and make my fall evident with frustration and negativity, someone in my family will do as I’ve asked them to do:  Don’t let me get away with it!

We learned from Pastor Keith Moore’s example to say, in response to negativity (anything contrary to scripture), “If you say so.”

Aaaargh!  It makes us wanna box someone’s ears (I’ve been reading too much Georgette Heyer, if there’s any such thing as too much Georgette Heyer ).  But, instead, we take deep breaths, roll our eyes, wrinkle our noses as though at a very unpleasant odor, and change our words.

Example:

Me:  “I’m sick to death of his crap and I’m gonna give him a piece of my mind.”

Brat Child of Mine with Snarky Grin:  “If you say so.”

Me:  Really deep breath, mutterings, stomps, yeah-buts, etc.  Another deep breath.  “I am taking his nonsense as an unconscious cry for help, and I’m not giving him a piece of my mind because obviously I can’t spare it, and I’m going to stop and pray for him right now.  Will you, dearest child, agree with me in prayer?”

I just strengthened myself, lightened the load of the child who has to listen to MY crap, and prayed myself right out of Satan’s way of thinking and doing, and changed things for the person I prayed for.  Rather than a piece of my mind, he got a piece of God’s love.  Amen!