Mr. Prof designer home

One of the benefits of the homeschool curriculum we use is that I am able to take part for free in an incredible online homeschool community. It's great for encouragement, for learning from those who have gone before, and for making friends who are like-minded as well as those who challenge you to consider new things. One of those friends I have made, a homeschool/public school mom of seven who is both like-minded in some ways AND challenges me to consider new things, is Amy who blogs at BirthBlessed.

Amy has written an article for our encouragement as disciples of Christ:

But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. Against these there is no law. ~Galatians 5:22-23 (NIV)

Somewhere along the way, I was taught (or confused something) that the Fruit of the Spirit is a gift. Don't misunderstand me- I do believe that the indwelling of the Holy Spirit is a gift. Grace is a gift. But somehow I had come to a false doctrine that the Fruit of the Spirit was something the Spirit gives us. As in, "I am sorry I don't have self-control. I have prayed for the Spirit to produce self-control in me, but he hasn't given it to me yet."

And the Fruit of the Spirit is something I've struggled with for my entire life. I have the verses memorized. I have arts and crafts in my house displaying the words. And I just kept praying for the Spirit to give them to me. I cried and wondered why He didn't. I beat myself up, condemning myself for my foolish behavior, and again cried out to the Lord, for His Spirit in me to make these Fruits visible, to make them appear. I'd have taken fruit flies with them, if I could just have them.

And one day, the scales were removed from my eyes. My confusion was laid to rest. My understanding was new.

Fruit is cultivated.

How did I not know this? How did I ever sit there with my hand out, waiting for it to be dropped into my lap?

Gardening is hard- harder for some than others, sure. Some soil is better than others. Some circumstances are harder than others. Some knowledge is better than others. Some risks and threats are harsher than others. But no fruit comes apart from hard work. It's just that some may work harder than others.

Self-control is something to be worked for. And when you fail, it must mean you need more practice. Love is something you work at. Joy is something you choose. Peace is achieved. Patience is acquired by trial. Goodness is a menial task, kindness also. Faithfulness comes from purpose. Gentleness must be nurtured. And self-control, the mother of all Fruits, comes from putting away pride. Dying to this world, taking up your cross, and following Him.

Oh Sweet Jesus, Precious Jesus. I praise you for the grace you bestow upon me, to give me understanding. I have a new task, now that I know this: to work to follow you, to love because you loved. To enjoy all things, to have peace knowing You are Lord. To patiently withstand affliction, to train myself to be good and kind and nurture gentleness in myself and my children. To open my Scripture and listen to Your voice in order for my faith to grow. And to lose any shred of pride that inhibits my self-control.

What a gift He has given me!

My good friend Tamara (who, incidentally, made the most beautiful quilt for my newborn son) has many interesting and unique stories that she could share with us. When I approached her about writing an article to share with Making Home readers, we both felt most interested in having her share about her upbringing in a community that was similar to Mennonites.

I hope her experiences and memories shared here will benefit you as you seek God in your own life, and seek to relay Him to your own children accurately and biblically.

Growing up in a very conservative culture yields a person a unique perspective that is not easily explained to others. This writing, however, is an attempt at doing just that.

When I was little, my parents were a part of a conservative Christian denomination called the Wesleyan Holiness Movement. By the time I was born, my parents, who were once your typical worldly young couple raising typical children in typical American fashion, were firmly entrenched in a denomination that called its members to a strict interpretation of being “in the world but not of it.”

The little church that we attended when I was small was a quaint and serene little building with an unassuming name, set up on a hill, far back from the road, surrounded by trees and flowers that the pastor’s wife had planted. Three times a week, my little buckle shoes padded up the hill to the front doors of the church, my frilly hand-sewn dresses allowed me to slide precariously down the wooden pews, my chubby fingers turned to the appropriate page of the hymnal. There I learned memory verses each week and was rewarded with a sticker in Sunday school before I raced my cousin up the stairs, where we sat with our parents who would tolerate no “foolishness” in church. When I was of school age, I attended a little school sponsored by the same denomination.

But there was much more to our faith and practice than those simple, expected routines of Sunday morning services and Christian education. The Wesleyan Holiness tradition expected much more of their parishioners. A call to come out and be separate was taken to such an extreme that what we often were was a caricature, rather than examples of holiness. Women did not cut, or even trim, their hair. By the time a woman was married, she was expected to only wear her hair pinned up. No jewelry of any kind, including wedding rings. Women wore only dresses, never pants or shorts. Sleeves had to come below the elbow, dresses well below the knee. No one in our church or school owned a television. Family Life Radio, an extremely conservative Christian broadcast, provided our news and entertainment. We did not solicit restaurants that served alcohol. (I remember my mother gasping audibly when our pastor suggested a place for lunch that he did not realize served alcohol.) The list of man-made rules went on and on.

It is probably not hard to imagine what such rules induced. It was easy to tell who was “one of us” and who was not. While the church had a strong sense of community, that quickly carried over into judgment of those who did not fit the mold. This was especially true at our school, where gossip ran rampant. While the ladies there appeared outwardly feminine and passionately pursued their vision of Godliness, they were very quick to slander and judge anyone outside their community. While I look back on my old church with some fond memories, I have no good memories of my experience with the school I attended. As I grew older, I was subjected to more and more outrageous legalism, and I could not find a balance between what I was told was righteous by my authority figures, and what I read in Scripture.

I grew up feeling like a spectacle. One time when I was about 12, a lady in our church said she considered it an honor that people stared and whispered when she walked through the grocery store, because she knew she was being a martyr for Jesus. I wondered then if you could be a martyr for circumstances of your own making. I dreaded going out in public, because I was ashamed. I was ashamed of the attention that we drew in public, and I was ashamed of the bitter and judgmental scowls that my mother cast towards all the “worldly” people we encountered while out. As I became an adult, I have had to fight (sometimes not so successfully) self-consciousness and even reclusiveness.

As I look back on my growing up years in this regard, I would be dishonest if I said nothing good came of my early church experience. Several ladies at my church were great examples of femininity. All of them were homemakers whose homes were inviting and well-kept. The examples of hospitality within our little church were abundant. To this day I remember with fondness the smells of baking and candles that I associate with those ladies’ homes, the different ways each family made popcorn for an after-church fellowship, or the chocolate cake with sprinkles that one family always brought to church pot-lucks.

But there are so many examples of sin and self-righteousness that come from that experience as well. For years I listened to gossip and slander, saw looks of self-righteousness cast about the room, listened to completely unbiblical teaching, and watched as people attempted to prove themselves more holy than others. By God’s grace, I have overcome, or perhaps still am over-coming, the negative impact of it all.

When I was 16 and finally attending a different school, a teacher of mine who by divine Providence was also a Baptist minister, pulled me aside to talk to me. On that day I began to know a truly loving Savior, one who does not look on the outward appearance, but on the heart. I had been pin-balling between losing my faith completely, and wanting so desperately to know the God of Scripture and not the God of man’s design. I don’t know if that pastor knows it or not, but he was instrumental in my walk with Christ and in who I am today.

I struggle now as I write this. I struggle even as I think back to those early days of my Christian upbringing. I want to make sure that I am not disparaging, and yet at the same time I feel that I must be forthright and honest. As I have grown older, the stories have come back to me, of children who grew up there and now have completely abandoned the faith. This has been especially true of members of my own family who are very dear to me. They had nothing to hold them there, no truth that ever resonated with their spirit. They were taught a form of godliness that in the end could not withstand the pressures and temptations of life. Perhaps this is one reason why I am so adamant now that we simply must have Biblically sound teaching, Biblically sound reasons why we do things, else our man-made ship will not withstand the testing storms. We must cast off every sin, not just the sin of pride in our appearance or of not being “of the world,” but the sin of slander and gossip, of self-righteousness and legalism.

Having seen the effects of a more extreme form of putting words in God’s mouth, I often feel like I am constantly sounding an alarm to people who would stray even slightly from His Truth. And perhaps that is why, in His sovereignty, He placed me where He did growing up, and why He put godly wisdom in my path just before I could have easily drifted away. After seeing so many fall away from a faith that could not sustain, I am humbled and grateful each day that my Savior has used even these circumstances to draw me to Himself.

For this month's "Inside Look"(a firsthand point of view on the first of each month), I wanted to feature the perspective of a lady who has taught me many things, and from whom we could all learn much.

I first "met" Renee about a year ago through a homeschooling forum, and have continued to learn from her heart for children (both through birth and through adoption), and from her general wisdom about life. I hope you'll enjoy her perspective on mothering -- in situations that range from the very familiar to the completely unfamiliar to us as American moms:

It was a grey and rainy day as we zoomed along the streets of Addis Ababa, Ethiopia. We were four days into our trip, and I snuggled our newly adopted Ethiopian baby boy in my arms.

On the schedule for the day was a visit to the orphanage where another of our Ethiopian children had lived before coming home to us a year prior. During my time in Addis I had seen poverty which shocked my mind, and it broke my heart. I was still not prepared for the scenes which were playing out on this day.

I could scarcely hold back my tears as I saw the desperate conditions which seemed to grow bleaker with each passing mile. There were many small children wandering the streets alone. They had no shoes and their clothes were tattered. They were precariously close to the cars, and at times they wandered right into the traffic.

The streets were the home to the sick, the infirmed. The pain and desperation was palpable. I wanted to see and remember each person.....for they were someone's child, someone's mother, someone's father, someone's sister, someone's brother. They were real flesh and blood people, and they mattered. They mattered to God, and I wanted them to matter to me too.

As we made a turn I saw her lying there..a woman who looked to be about my age. She was lying in the mud. She was obviously sick. As our car passed, by she weakly lifted her head and looked our way. It was then that I noticed that she too had a baby in her arms.

I immediately thought to the night before when the rains poured down so heavily. I wondered where these two precious people were then. My heart told me probably in that same spot. While my new baby and I slept in a warm and cozy bed...they slept in the cold rain with mud for their bed.

I tried to imagine what it must be like, and then I thought back to a question that I am sometimes asked, in reference to my Ethiopian children; "How could their mother ever give their children up? I love my children too much," they say. God help me, I have had those thoughts too. How could a mother give her precious child up?

It was at that moment that God taught me what real love is. It is laying down your life. My children's birth mothers laid down their lives for their children so that their children may live. I can clearly look at my children, and tell them that they were loved. They were loved dearly, and desperately. Ethiopians love children dearly. It is evident everywhere you go how precious children are to their culture. They grieve over the poverty, disease, and loss too. Even though death, illness, and poverty touch their lives more often than it does here in America, it doesn't hurt them any less.

One of the greatest lessons God showed me why he said in His word "to judge not lest you be judged." How unfair I am to judge a situation I truly know nothing about.

While I worry whether or not my children are consuming hydrogenated oils, there are mothers in this world who wonder if and when their child will eat.

While I worry about choosing the perfect homeschool curriculum there are mothers who know their children will never get one single day of education.

While I moan about yet another "well baby" check-up there are mothers whose children will never see a Doctor, even if they are desperately ill.

Jesus taught me so much about grace on my trip to Ethiopia. He taught me about sacrifice, and His love, and how He wants me to walk.

He has not put me in a position where I have to lay down my life literally for my children. He has shown me that I do need to lay down my life each day. I need to lay down my time, my plans, my wants to train up these precious children whom He has entrusted to me. These children are ultimately His. I am merely a steward of them for a short time.

It can be an uphill battle in a culture which seems to breed selfishness. Mothers are told they need to do something more with their lives than stay home and wipe noses and wash laundry. There is little glamour attached to a "Stay at Home Mom". The catch word of our day is "me-time."

Life in America can be a struggle. There are many distractions which draw me away from the call of managing our home and the training up of our children in the way they should go. I have learned over the years that the distractions are not necessarily evil. In fact, many times they can be useful. The problem is that they may not be God's best for our family. I need to seek Jesus daily in His Word for His plans for our home and family, not mine, not our cultures, but His.

I am so thankful for this calling of Motherhood. It is a blessing, and a gift, and one I treasure.

Renee is the wife of Jim and the mom of eleven children, two of whom are waiting to come "home" from Ghana. Some are biologically "hers", and others are "hers" through adoption, but all are dearly loved. She blogs at Steppin' Heavenward, where she writes openly and honestly about the life of a mom of many, the life of a mom of adopted & biological children, the life of a homeschooling family, and the life of a woman striving to be like Christ.

Making Home readers, I would encourage you to add her blog to your favorites, as she has so much to teach all of us. I pray that this was a blessing to you, as it was to me. Thank you to Renee for sharing a slice of your life with us!

My long-time friend Kim, who helped me plan my announcement for my second pregnancy, and has virtually walked alongside me through MANY life changes, is a single 27-year-old woman. (I say virtually because we literally met online and have not -yet- met in person.) We have talked before, and I've read her writings, about the journey of a single woman who deeply desires to be married.

I invited Kim to write this month's firsthand account on the "first" of November, for Making Home's monthly "Inside Look" feature. Here's what she wanted to share with us:

I am actually a little proud of myself.

When Jess asked me about doing a guest blog entry on Making Home, I thought I would be able to write a deep, philosophical, heart wrenching article that would make all of you want to set me up on a date, because how can a creature so wonderful still be single? (I use sarcasm as a crutch. Embrace it. And oh - I will still take those dates, thanks.) But as I was looking back through my own blog for inspiration, I found an entry that kind of struck me, and I wanted to share:

I am TIRED of living out this reality - it feels like it is parallel to the one I think I should be living. I want to be married, working a regular old 9-5 job in an office, or more importantly, staying home with my kids. I want to be able to stay in Louisville and eat dinner with my family on Wednesday nights and go to church at the church where I grew up, and go on double dates with my brother and sister-in-law, and raise my kids with their cousins. But guess what? I can't have that life.

Now, I didn’t go out and get a husband and I have not had any children since June. But you know what I did? I made a choice that God gave me to make, and I am getting part of my dream - I moved home, and I am eating dinner with my family on Wednesday nights.

The above paragraph, however, also does illustrate what it is like, living a life that is a complete and total opposite from what you thought you’d do. I mean - in high school, I had it all planned out - married right out of college, three kids (one girl, two boys), and I’d stay home. We would travel and raise our kids in church and we’d spend the rest of our lives growing old together. (We being me and high school boyfriend. Just FYI.) In reality, I’ve struggled with having a broken heart and a relationship that was outside of God’s design. I’ve struggled with years of singleness when all my heart’s desire was to be married. I have struggled with being a bridesmaid in six (SIX! Twice I was the Maid of Honor) of my friends’ weddings, and being at the hospital through several births. Many of my friends are at least on their second child, or trying to be, by now. And while I most certainly celebrate with those friends and try to rejoice with those who rejoice, and while I would never wish that my friends did not have their husbands or children - I just wish I had that too.

I don’t think people who are on the other side realize what it’s like for those of us behind the fence. Perhaps that’s not fair, but that’s how it feels to be there. It’s like waiting for a plane to vacation, where everyone else is, and not knowing when the plane is going to arrive, or if it is. And yet you keep getting reports of how great it is to be on that vacation, and that when you get there, the wait is worth it. And you believe the people - you believe that it will be so amazing to be on this vacation, but you really doubt that you’re going to end up on the vacation, or worse yet, you fear everyone else will be done with vacation by the time you get there…

There are definitely blessings on this side of the journey, lest I lead you to believe otherwise. The biggest blessing is getting to be there for my niece and nephew, and getting to love on them and spoil them and watch them grow. I know that if I had my own children, my focus would be on them, and so for this time, I am very, very thankful. I can’t imagine loving any other kids more than I love those two! I am also thankful for the time to be under the teaching and example of some very wise, God-fearing women, and learning different approaches to being a godly wife and mother. I hope someday I can put them into practice.

I think perhaps the worst thing about being single, and perhaps the thing I want Jess’s readers to take away from this, is the exclusion factor. Not being a wife and not being a mother excludes me from really understanding the life of about 90 percent of my closest friends. (I have one single girlfriend over the age of 20. ONE. And she’s 30, and in the same boat I am in.) I know a lot about birth and pregnancy, mainly because of my own curiosity and study, and I know a lot about weddings, having helped plan or participated in so many. But of course, I don’t really know. I don’t really know what it’s like to join my life with someone else’s, for the purpose of bringing glory to the Lord and bringing up godly children.

That said - the exclusion makes a girl feel inadequate. Sure, those are often the core issues of womanhood, and I am so thankful for that! But just because I haven’t been there doesn’t mean I don’t want to understand. So when you come upon a single woman, especially one who is a little older, desires marriage and kids, and is biding her time - please take her under your wing. Take the time to teach her about wifehood and motherhood. Let her get to know and love your children. Include her in groups with other married women/mothers. It’s so important to a woman to know that she is still “valid” as a woman, and still has important things to contribute and to learn, even though she has not yet arrived. I am so thankful for my sweet friend and mentor, Amy, who is so gracious in allowing me to learn from her!

Another thing I would suggest to do if you have single women in your life is to pray with them and for them. Pray for them that God would strengthen their faith in this time of uncertainty, that He would give them grace to face situations that are sure to be emotionally challenging, and that He would reshape the desires of their heart, if that is His will. Also pray for them that God will provide for them a godly, loving, and kind husband in His perfect timing (but it is okay to pray that God’s timing is quick!). Pray with them for difficulties they are facing and for emotional challenges. Pray with them that they would not be idle and sad, but that they would use this time to work hard for the Kingdom!

Finally - a very important thing is to be sensitive. Obviously you cannot shield any single friends you might have from heartache - but know that heartache is often an underlying constant in her life. Feel free to ask if she’s okay. Know that she’s heard all the typical lines before, and know that she sometimes does need reminders! Know that sometimes, it’s hard. All of it. Just love her anyway, and know she doesn’t mean to be a grump.

I hope, for those of you who are married and/or do have children, that this gives a little insight into the life of at least one woman who is sad she’s not. I definitely don’t speak for every single woman - there are many out there more godly than me! - but I do know that some of these feelings are common. And I am so thankful that I have women in my life like Jess who want to understand. When I sit and really think about my life, I am indeed pretty blessed.