Father's Day 2011

Carl was out of town last Sunday so we decided to celebrate Father's Day a week late after he returned. Last night the kids came over (coming and going throughout the evening between their various activities.) Later on, everyone ended up back here at home and we sat around our firepit on the back deck. We talked late into the night. It was quite amazing--humbling, really-- to look at my children's faces in the firelight, grown-up faces now, in the prime of life, as they verbally grappled with the philosophical stuff of life. We bounced from subject to subject, mostly just asking questions of each other, finding that there are relatively few simple answers that can be put in a box with a neat little ribbon tied around it.

*The infinite vastness of this universe we are a part of and how it was all created.

*Theological questions about God and His character. If we choose to follow this God by faith, is there ever a line we can cross where He turns us away, just gives up on us? If so, where is that line?

*Why bad things happen where God seems to be distant and purposely uninvolved, and why in some other cases there are blatant in-your-face miracles where His presence is completely real and so KNOWN.

*If a tiny baby comes into the world and dies at birth, most everyone, even those who propose no faith at all, believe that child is in Heaven, protected and safe. But what if an 20 year old somewhere in the heart of Africa dies before He has heard the message of Jesus, what do we believe happens to that person in eternity?


Just before Doug and Mandi left and we all turned in for the night, Tessa read the following quote. It summarizes my faith in a God who is vastly (and comfortingly) so much bigger than I am. He is God and I am not. And I am OK with that.

"We try to be reasonable about what we believe. What I believe is not reasonable at all. In fact, it’s hilariously impossible. Possible things aren’t worth much. These crazy impossible things keep us going.” Madeleine L’Engle

Whatever hurts us makes us stronger

My nephew Shawn Smucker has a way with words. He is an author and keeps an interesting daily blog.His reflections on life are unique, thought-provoking, often inspiring. I like how he thinks "outside the box" and spends more time asking questions than answering them.

Below is an excerpt that he wrote about his Grandma Smucker, who is also my 91 year-old mother-in-law. 8:15 Friday morning Mom Smucker called my husband's cell phone and her slurred speech on the other side of the line put us into immediate emergency mode.

Shawn writes:

"I’m sitting in the hospital room with grandma right now. Her wiry, gray hair reaches to her shoulders – having grown up Amish, she usually wears a covering, and I’ve never seen her with her hair down before. Someone came in to talk to us about her swallowing, now that one side of her throat might not cooperate. Some of her kids, my aunts and uncles, are in and out. She’s excited because she finally gets to eat.

She tries to lift food with her right hand, but the stroke has limited her mobility on that side, so her hand trembles and stops about three inches short of her mouth. She leans forward and uses her lower jaw to lift the food the rest of the way into her mouth. We want to help her eat. We tell her to use her left hand.

My cousin Tessa gets ready to leave the room. She’s recently had her own surgery and can barely walk. She leans in and hugs grandma. Grandma kisses her cheek a thousand times, holds on to her face with her still-strong left hand (as if letting go would be the end of her) and says over and over again in her slurred voice:

“Whatever hurts us makes us stronger. Whatever hurts us makes us stronger.”

I was in the hospital that day with Shawn. I knew Grandma was saying something over and over to Tessa: I sort of assumed she was praying. But I didn't hear the words.

How simple. How wise. "Whatever hurts us makes us stronger."

The athlete can never become a strong runner without the pain of working those muscles needed to perform. The mind will never develop well if it is not stimulated and "worked" to keep us alert and quick-thinking. And from an emotional perspective, nothing develops deep personal compassion and empathy for others like going through difficult times ourselves.

It reminds me of one of my favorite quotes by Oswald Chambers:
"When you are in the dark, listen, and you will hear a very precious message for someone else when you are in the light."

I guess after 91 years, Grandma Smucker has a lot to teach us.

My Sisters

That was then....




This is now!

Ok, so this is going W-A-Y back in time, to what feels like another lifetime ago! I grew up in a large family-- in my early years, it was a family comprised of my parents, four brothers and me. Since we were raised on a farm, "the boys" worked outside with dad and I helped my mother in the house.

How I longed for a little sister.

It was so completely my heart's desire and I often prayed in my childlike way that God would give me one. When I was 8 years old, I learned that my mother was expecting another baby...and I simply believed. It never occured to me that asking God to make this baby a girl was a rather mute point, since a child already is what it is at conception. I waited, and prayed...and waited.

And late one night after I had been sleeping, I woke to find my dad at the door of my bedroom. I remember he was leaning up against the door jam trying to look nonchalant. In the light of the hall lamp, his eyes were smiling. So pleased.

I had a baby sister!

And then God, with his uncanny ability to give "beyond what we can ask or think", sent me two more little sisters, one when I was 11 years old, and an unexpected tag-along when I was 17. Each time--pure joy!

In the early years, our relationship was that of a Big-Sister, Little-Sister, and probably more like a mother-child with my youngest sister. I used to be so proud when people thought I was her mom!

The passage of time has served to gently erase the age differences and now these three beautiful women are my best friends in all the world. They are just THERE in every sense of the word. Since my children are nearly raised and my sisters all have little ones, we still live in very different "seasons" but it feels in a wierd way like we are all the same age now. We don't see each other every day yet I always have the sense that in the midst of my busy life, someone's got my back.

They know how my heart is doing.

We are alike in some ways, very different in others. People say our mannerisms are similar. We certainly don't fit a cookie-cutter stereotype in the way we think, act, process life and our interests and tastes are as varied as our personalities. But we genuinely like each other and love to spend time together (thanks in large part to the example of our mom, who is wholly accepting and sees only the good in others.)

I love my sister Janet's serving spirit, her intuitive ability to make decisions and the practical way she makes things happen. Snap, snap! She is self-sufficient with a can-do attitude. She is usually the driver when we sisters go away together once a year for a weekend. Because she knows the way. And because she can get us there the fastest. Sensitive to the core, she has emotional "antenna" that are on constant alert,keenly attuned to issues of the heart. She has a wild and crazy side too: sometimes her off-the-wall humor completely escapes me (I'm so dang serious and just don't get jokes!)But I laugh at her laughing at herself!

My sister Yvonne is poised, unruffled, and her smile is introspective and composed. She is a deep reflective thinker and her mind is always mulling the meaningful things of life. Von is one of the most creative homemakers I know, with an ability to create something out of almost nothing. Her home is decorated in neutral hues--uncluttered and calming. There is a serenity about her, a wisdom beyond her years. She is a good listener, a faithful friend. I can not ever remember her raising her voice.

And Janelle! She bounced into the world over 30 years ago (look at her expression on both of the pictures above and you get a sense for who she is!) and she is still bouncing! Like the unstoppable Tigger of Winnie-the-Pooh fame, she has an energy that simply emanates from her. Life is FUN when Janelle is around and few people can find more reasons to throw a party than she! Warm and lively, she embraces life with passion, savors the moments, lives each day fully and completely. Her house has stuff in every corner: interesting tidbits, photos, magazine clipouts, vintage articles, garage-sale finds. Each time I visit, I walk around just to see what's new in her world!

Last Sunday my extended family spent some time together celebrating Mother's Day (and a belated Easter egg hunt for the kids). My daughter Tessa snapped the picture shown above. It's one of my all-time favorites, because it reminds me of the sweet gift God has given to me in the form of these precious ladies.

a child and a honeymoon

I attended another funeral last week. It feels like there has been a lot of those lately.

I came away from this one with a new perspective on Heaven....I've been mulling it around in my brain ever since.

The minister told a story about a father who was doing his best to inform his 5-year old son about what it would be like to go on a honeymoon someday in the child's distant future. He told the little boy (as best he could explain) that it would be one of the most fun days of his whole life--even better than Christmas presents-- and that he would get to spend time with the person he loved most in all the world. The little boy was puzzled and asked, "So, do I get to bring my new bike on my honeymoon?" His dad told him that it wouldn't be necessary to take his bicycle along. "Well then, can Jason go with me on my honeymoon?" Again, his father smiled and shook his head, assuring the boy that, when the time came for his honeymoon, he really wouldn't WANT to take his best friend along.

The boy remained unconvinced. Because there was no way his 5-year-old mind could comprehend a honeymoon. He simply had to trust that his daddy knew what he was talking about.

So often we are like that. We hear about how wonderful Heaven will be, that it is beyond compare and all of the incredible joys we will experience there. It sounds nice but... I prefer to hold on to my "bicycle and Jason." Do I really want to walk on streets of gold and sing in a choir for a million years? Won't I long for the familiarity of earth? What about my family and my loved ones? How will I know they will be okay when I'm gone? If I am completely honest, I'm not sure I really want to go. At least not now.

And so I must trust my Father. He knows whereof He speaks.

Revelation 21:4
"And God will wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things have passed away."

Easter at our house

There are some things I especially like about Easter at our house.
Every year we do the same thing.
After church services are done and we've changed into comfy clothes, the kids all line up for their Easter picture. (long ago, we did the dress-up, matchy thing for pictures: oh, I worked so hard to coordinate those outfits!)



Then they race out to the back yard to see which one can collect the most candy-filled eggs. (The bodies may be grown-up, but inside they are still kids!






Everyone then sits down on the ground and compares their "spoils." When they were little, they would check amongst themselves to see if each one got the same amount of each kind!









This year Miss Morgan joined in the fun. (a single m&m in each egg--she was a happy little girl!)


I love that our children value traditions, even if those traditions are a bit goofy. Somehow,looking forward to the sweet predictability of treasured customs adds a sense of stability in a world that is often random and chaotic. For me,it's a way of preserving my sanity, keeping me grounded and connecting me with a past that is very precious to me. Maybe it does the same for them...




Both my extended family and Carl's is getting so large that it is increasingly difficult to "get us all together" for each holiday, so we have started inviting my parents and his mom to join our family for our Easter meal each year. I rather like the one-on-one interaction that happens in these quieter settings, since when we are all together, (40 plus for the Beilers and...I've lost count with the Smuckers!!) there is an abundance of noise, activity and hoopla going on!



Okay, humor me...here's a few pictures from Easters gone by.









HAPPY EASTER, EVERYONE!

tantrums in the grocery store

Moms often ask when their child disobeys, "How do I know what is the right punishment?" Maybe a better question would be, "What is the most appropriate response?" The key to effective discipline is not punishment, it is management.

Punishment is usually a reaction, an off-the-cuff response to something that happens which brings frustration or anger. Management, on the other hand, is something that is proactive and happens when there is some planning done ahead of time.

Proactive discipline first of all means that a mother with little ones expects those little ones to act like little ones! A two year old who believes he is the center of the universe (and he has every reason to believe this, because out of necessity he has been treated as such) is NOT going to be a happy camper when someone tells him what to do or denies him what he wants. When you look at it this way, it actually makes sense why a child of this age acts the way they do. I'd probably throw a tantrum too if everything in my world was taken from me by someone I loved and trusted!

So if you understand why a two-year old acts the way he does, there is less reason to stress over it or become intimidated or angry. It just is what it is. Your job is to steer your child toward cooperation and that will take time and patience. What you actually do is far less important than knowing what you are going to do before the problem happens.

It's called Discipline: setting limits, helping your child develop an ability to tolerate frustration and convincing him that you are in control of his world (which makes him feel safe and protected.)

I remember when my children were young, each one went through a stage where they were just plain bad at the grocery store. They whined, begged for toys and cried when the answer was no, wouldn't stay in the cart, all that stuff. It was so stressful, so embarrassing, so tiring! I think I lost my cool more in that setting than in any other, usually laying into the kids after we got back into the van.

Bu there was once or twice --it happened with all four of them--when I vividly remember a triumphant success in this arena. This triumphant success occurred when I thought ahead of time what I would do if (when!) the inevitable happened. I actually planned it on a day when I had a little extra time. I told my child calmly and without emotion,before we went into the store, "If you throw a tantrum or scream in the grocery store today, I will take you out to the car and I will spank you." (**That was then, this is now.In 2011 unfortunately, you'd probably get called in by Children's Services. Remember its not WHAT you do to discipline, its that you do something.)

Back to the grocery store...

Each child took me up on it. And I was not surprised or taken off guard. I didn't feel upended, so I was able to confidently follow through with my plan. Without losing it or even feeling all that upset about the situation. When the tantrum began, I picked up my child, and went out to the car, grocery cart left still in the aisle. I spanked him with the little wooden spoon I had brought along for the occasion (I really was prepared!), hugged him till he calmed down, and then we returned to finish our shopping.

No more tantrums that day. I'm not sure if I had to do this more than once with each child, but I don't think so. It does sound almost too good to be true, but it worked.

**An alternative, since it IS now, not then--is to tell the child as you are taking him to the car: "I told you that I won't let you scream in stores. We're going to the car where you can scream all you want."

Testing

Interestingly, the style of parenting that I have been discussing does not come naturally to me. As a child, I had a very compliant, eager-to-please temperament and wanted peace at all costs. Still do. In personality tests, I rank over-the-top on characteristics that relate to empathy and mercy. (Deep down inside, I'm a push-over, really.)

I married a man with a strong, driven personality and have always felt a lot of security in that. Carl is visionary,take-charge and decisive. Black-and-white.He makes decisions and rarely looks back.

We have four children. As averages would have it, at least two of them have stronger personalities than I do. I recognized this in my first-born when she was very young. I struggled with insecurity knowing that she could often outsmart and outlast me in many of the typical "kid battles." (I used to tell my husband I was actually intimidated by this child! How is that possible?!)

I instinctively knew that even though it was true that these little ones were stronger than me and that I was scared, they absolutely could not know it.

Sometimes we did okay, sometimes not. It seemed to go in cycles, as much of life does. I could usually sense when I was losing the battle, when they were able to take advantage of my weaknesses. It manifested itself in some predictable ways. Lots of whining, fighting, vying for attention, pushing limits.

See, when a child senses that the parent is weak and unsure of themselves, the little one becomes very insecure. Without the three understandings we talked about yesterday, the mama is actually looking to the child for an indication of where to stand instead of the other way around. A child who does not know where his mother stands must test, test, test. It is an attempt on the part of the child to pin his parent down. To find out where the boundaries are. Testing raises the level of stress and tension in the parent-child relationship. What a sad position in which to place a young child!

When I would enter one of these difficult seasons, I found comfort and strength on my knees (not literally, but in a constant communication with the God I knew had created these children with their unique personalities and individual bents.) He knew my temperament and tendencies. Yet He had given these children to me so I had to believe He would equip me with what I needed to raise them.

And secondly, I would feed myself regular doses of encouragement --a shot in the arm, really--by reading books and listening to radio programs and tapes. I found that I would come away from those with an "I can do this!" mentality.

That is my heart now, to be able in some way to encourage young moms who are in the trenches of daily life. You are doing the job 24/7, and you need to know you can do this and you can do it well!