Fathers and sons, good and bad

Posted on June 11, 2007 by Barbara Harper

In light of Father’s Day coming up this Sunday, I will be posting several things relating to fathers from my files throughout this week.

The following is from Keep a Quiet Heart by Elisabeth Elliot, published by Vine Books in 1995.

While visiting [a] Bible College in South Carolina, I found in the library a little book called Father and Son, written by my grandfather, Philip E. Howard. He writes:

“Do you remember that encouraging word of Thomas Fuller’s, a chaplain of Oliver Cromwell’s time? It’s a good passage for a father in all humility and gratitude to tuck away in his memory treasures:

“’Lord, I find the genealogy of my Savior strangely checkered with four remarkable changes in four immediate generations.

Rehoboam begat Abijah; that is, a bad father begat a bad son.
Abijah begat Asa; that is, a bad father begat a good son.
Asa begat Jehoshaphat; that is, a good father begat a good son.
Jehoshaphat begat Joram; that is, a good father begat a bad son.

I see, Lord, from hence that my father’s piety cannot be entailed; that is bad news for me. But I see also that actual impiety is not always hereditary; that is good news for my son.’”

Memorial Day

Posted on May 28, 2007 by Barbara Harper

“It is, in a way, an odd thing to honor those who died in defense of our country in wars far away. The imagination plays a trick. We see these soldiers in our mind as old and wise. We see them as something like the Founding Fathers, grave and gray-haired. But most of them were boys when they died; they gave up two lives — the one they were living and the one they would have lived. When they died, they gave up their chance to be husbands and fathers and grandfathers. They gave up their chance to be revered old men. They gave up everything for their county, for us.

All we can do is remember.”

~ Ronald Wilson Reagan
Remarks at Veteran’s Day ceremony, Arlington National Cemetery, Arlington, Virginia, November 11, 1985

The purpose of all war is peace. –Saint Augustine

But the freedom that they fought for,
and the country grand they wrought for,
Is their monument to-day, and for aye.
~Thomas Dunn English

All we have of freedom, all we use or know – This our fathers bought for us long and long ago.
~Rudyard Kipling, “The Old Issue,” 1899

Posterity: you will never know how much it has cost my generation to preserve your freedom. I hope you will make good use of it.
~John Quincy Adams

(Graphic courtesy of Anne’s Place)

A nice Mother’s Day and more stray thoughts

Posted on May 14, 2007 by Barbara Harper

I had a lovely Mother’s Day. One tradition that developed somehow is that Jim usually grills something for lunch on Mother’s Day after church and the boys are all assigned a side dish. Jeremy made the salad, Jason made Rice-a-roni, Jesse shucked corn on the cob while Jim grilled the chicken. Jim also cut up strawberries and got those little sponge cake thingies and whipped topping for strawberry shortcake. Jim did the shopping for the meal on Saturday. Jeremy set the table, and then they cleaned up the kitchen afterward. Not only is the meal great, but it is so lovely to come in after church and just go relax!

When the boys were little I had them pick out cards to buy for family members having birthday or for Father’s Day and such — I think we may have made cards once or twice, but I can’t remember for sure. But as they have gotten older, I leave that to them — and they don’t usually buy or make cards of any kind. 🙂 But this year Jesse gave me a card with his present. When I opened it, it was a thank you card, and at first I chuckled at that. But inside he thanked me for the things that I do for the family (at the top was making food. 🙂 “The way to a man’s heart…..”). It was very, very sweet, and a note I’ll keep always.

Jim always gives lovely, thoughtful cards. I also received a couple of books I had been wanting plus one in a series that I didn’t know was coming, some scrapbooking paper and alphabet punches and a lovely print and a gift card to get it framed. I am very blessed!

On a different line of thought, my heart has been heavy this week for a family I know in which the teen-age daughter is having some problems that came to a head recently. The people involved (and, I think, everyone whom we mutually know) don’t read my blog, but I still don’t want to disclose the details to protect privacy. They are receiving counseling, and one thing that came up was the lack of boundaries the child had and the mother’s being a “softie” and letting her have her way. The counselor told her that was bad parenting. I don’t think that was the wisest wording, because she was so wounded over being called a bad parent that she’s not hearing any solutions.

This is not the first time someone we know has reaped problems in the teen years that were sown in the early years. Whether the parent in some cases just doesn’t know how to discipline, or they felt it would be too “mean” to do so, or they’re too influenced by some off-the-wall child psychology that tells them they’ll damage their child’s little psyche if they tell them no, or they’re just lazy, the end result is usually the same. We’re naturally self-centered and we don’t usually naturally want what’s best for ourselves, plus children aren’t born with wisdom and experience. Parents aren’t doing children any favors by letting them have their way all the time, by not ever restraining them, by always giving them they want.

When I was in college taking a class on the family, it was stressed that parents need to think about what kind of adult they want their child to be and then raise them accordingly. If we want to raise an adult who will be a diligent worker who sees a job through to completion, we need to give him “chores” to do (and finish) when he’s young. If we want our children to be adults with a healthy measure of self-control, we have to realize they are not going to have it magically when they turn 18: it has to be developed along the way, and it won’t be if they always receive what they want. We can’t expect perfection, of course. But they can begin at a pretty early age to have the foundation laid.

I’ve been thinking for a while about writing our philosophies and how we disciplined our children. I’ve been hesitant because I’m not an expert and no one in my family is perfect, and I don’t want to come across as if I think I am. Yet the Lord did teach us some things along the way, and there seems to be such a need for parents to realize that not only can they discipline their kids, but it is their God-given responsibility to. I see so many out-of-control kids leading their parents around, with the parents shrugging and thinking that’s just how it is or getting really frustrated and then doing things they regret. It doesn’t have to be that way.

So — I may think and pray further about that. I can’t write it our today — I have some other obligations. But I may do so later this week.

I hope this hasn’t sounded like a “rant” — I haven’t meant it that way at all, and that’s not how my heart feels writing it. I’m more saddened and burdened for families in this situation.

Things I love about my mom

Posted on May 13, 2007 by Barbara Harper

My mom and me: 🙂

From my earliest memory, my mom was my best friend — not in a way that was too chummy and hindered discipline. But we could talk about most anything, and I always knew that she was for me. I was the oldest of six, and we always enjoyed each other’s company.

She was not the most domestic person on the planet. 🙂 I remember days cleaning the house together, snack breaks, and jokes about how no one ever came over when the house was clean.

My father was an alcoholic and very jealous and easily angry. She thought that once they got married and he was assured of her love and commitment that much of that would change. A word of warning: don’t ever marry expecting change. I love my dad, too — I’ve written more about him earlier. I wish they both could have come to know the Lord earlier. But there were rough times over the years, and Mom and I were kind of allies during those times. I think she did the best she could to be the best wife she could be, but with continued problems and without the strength God could give, the marriage ended. I struggled with my relationships with both parents during that time, but the Lord helped — it was actually as a result of all this that I was saved — and eventually my relationship with both was restored, as I mentioned a bit in an earlier post.

I always appreciated that, though my Mom didn’t share my beliefs and convictions for many years, she cared about me and tried not to offend and tried to support me in my new way of life.

She loved to give. Her “love language” was definitely giving. She loved to find things that would be “just right” for her kids. She would collect things all through the year to give at Christmas. She always gave generously yet always wanted to give more. She was also a delight to give to. I enjoyed just as much looking through the year for things to give to her.

She loved to call rather than write, and our conversations were easily an hour or more. She would call for special occasions or just to catch up. Since we always lived 1,000 miles away and were rarely together over holidays, phone calls became an unplanned but welcome tradition. Usually we’d talk in the evening after the rest of the holiday’s festivities were over and everyone had gone home. That’s one of the things I miss most during days like today.

When my husband and I first got married and moved away, we traveled there to visit: it would have been hard and expensive for her and my step-father to travel with five kids. But in later years they did come here, and it was a joy to visit with her on my turf. 🙂 One of the times I enjoyed most was one day when they were visiting and my husband rented a boat to take everyone on the lake. I don’t know when she developed a phobia about the water, but she didn’t want to go, so she and I stayed at the house and I took her out to lunch. That lunch out together with just the two of us is one of my best memories.

She passed away in December of 2005. If I didn’t have faith that God’s timing is perfect, I would have felt it was much too soon for her to go. I don’t know why the Lord chose to take her so soon — I trust He will work all things together for good as He promised. One hope was that some of the rest of the family would be saved as a result, but as far as I know that hasn’t happened yet (if anyone feels led to pray to that end, I would be much obliged. 🙂 )

I imagine Mother’s Day will always carry a bit of a pang for me, but it also carries pleasant memories of my precious Mom.

Mother’s Day reading and assorted stray thoughts

Posted on May 12, 2007 by Barbara Harper

Elisabeth Elliot wrote a leaflet she titled “A Call to Spiritual Motherhood” which she read in on of her radio broadcasts. You can read the transcript here. It is an excellent article encouraging all of us in any stage of life to spiritually “mother” younger women. Many of us have had godly women besides out own mothers who were shining examples to us, who taught us along the way and encouraged us. I think they are worthy of honor on a day like Mother’s Day, too. 🙂

Girltalk has some excellent articles for those who have lost children to miscarriage or a later death, struggle with infertility or have wayward children, for whom this time of year can be quite painful.

Annie’s Mother’s Day pages have several neat links. I especially liked What the Bible Says About Mothers.

Anna Jarvis is regarded as the founder of Mother’s Day. The purpose she had in mind was:

..To revive the dormant filial love and gratitude we owe to those who gave us birth. To be a home tie for the absent. To obliterate family estrangement. To create a bond of brotherhood through the wearing of a floral badge. To make us better children by getting us closer to the hearts of our good mothers. To brighten the lives of good mothers. To have them know we appreciate them, though we do not show it as often as we ought…

Mothers Day is to remind us of our duty before it is too late.

This day is intended that we may make new resolutions for a more active thought to our dear mothers. By words, gifts, acts of affection, and in every way possible, give her pleasure, and make her heart glad every day, and constantly keep in memory Mothers Day; when you made this resolution, lest you forget and neglect your dear mother, if absent from home write her often, tell her of a few of her noble good qualities and how you love her.

“A mother’s love is new every day.”

God bless our faithful good mothers.

So many times these days the focus is on “how to be a better mother” on Mother’s Day rather than honoring one’s own mother. There is nothing wrong with writings and sermons about how to be a better mother — I know I certainly need them. But I think that focus can make this day all the more painful for those mentioned above who have lost children or can’t have children.

What if you don’t feel your mother is worthy of honor? The command to honor our fathers and mothers is just that — a command. I don’t think I ever felt my mother unworthy, but in my teens I did struggle for a brief while with respecting my parents. One day after a sermon on “Children, obey your parents,” it occurred to me that the two passages that teach that (Ephesians 6:1-3 and Colossians 3:20) do not qualify the command (obey if they are saved, if they are perfect, if they do everything just right, if they deserve it). I realized that all of the commands about relationships in the rest of those passages were not dependent on the other person doing his or her part. We’re supposed to do our part whether the other one does or not. I was supposed to obey my parents and respect their position as my parents. I had to apologize for my attitude, and the Lord enabled me to indeed honor them and respect them, and even to appreciate them and to be thankful for the life they gave me, the care they took of me, and so many more things. It showed in my attitude (I had never been allowed to “backtalk,” but there are other ways a disrespectful attitude can seep out), and the Lord healed the breach between my parents and me. I hope to write a tribute to my mom tomorrow. She passed away a year and a half ago, and I miss her terribly.

So I encourage you to truly honor your mom tomorrow. If she is no longer with you, you can honor her memory. That might even be a testimony to someone else.

Happy Mother’s Day to you!

Missionaries’ letters to mothers

Posted on May 12, 2007 by Barbara Harper

I have mentioned here many times the impact that reading missionary biographies has had on my life. Some of the tenderest letters I have ever read were from missionaries to their parents either after having answered the call to the field or after having left for the field. As a Christian parents, we want what the Lord wants for our children, yet our humanness would want our children close by. In honor of Mother’s Day, I wanted to include a few excerpts of these letters honoring parents.

Jim Elliot:

From his journal: “We left our moorings at the Outer Harbor Dock, San Pedro, California, at 2:06 p.m. today. Mom and Dad stood together watching at the pier side. As we slipped away Psalm 60:12 came to mind, and I called back, ‘Through our God we shall do valiantly.’ They wept some. I do not understand how God has made me. I didn’t even feel like weeping, and don’t, even now. Joy, sheer joy, and thanksgiving fill and encompass me.”

From his first letter to his parents after leaving: “I surely praised God for the way you both took my going. It is true that I know very little about how you feel at seeing me leave. All I understand is that it must be very keen, deep, and closely linked with all that this life involves for you. I pray for you whenever you come to mind, asking the ‘help that is from God’ for you both. You are as well a constant source of praise for all that you have given of yourselves for my sake. The will of God is always a bigger thing than we bargain for, but we must believe that whatever it involves, it is good, acceptable, and perfect.”

Hudson Taylor:

From his biography, The Growth of a Soul, by Dr. and Mrs. Howard Taylor: In the light of present privations [his mother] saw with painful clearness all that life in China might bring. And he was her only son.

Ah, that shrinking of mother-hearts! God only who made us fully understands. “He that spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all,” how shall He not fathom the depth of even that anguish. Yes, He has borne it too. God Himself suffered most for a sinning, sorrowing world, and He does not forget. He knows all it costs to give up home and loved ones and go alone to earth’s dark places to lay down life itself, it may be, in seeking souls for whom the Saviour died. And He knows too the sacrifice of those who cannot go, but send their dearest…and with bleeding, thankful hearts look up into His face…saying truly, “I have nothing too precious for Jesus.”

[Hudson] did not blame this mother that for a moment she seemed to waver. It is only “through the Eternal Spirit” such sacrifices can ever be unreservedly offered. And for the passing hesitation we may well be thankful, seeing it called forth the following, that might not otherwise have been written:

Do not let anything unsettle you, dear Mother. Missionary work is indeed the noblest mortals can engage in… We certainly cannot be insensible to the ties of nature, but should we not rejoice when we have anything we can give up for the Saviour? You would be far more unsettled if I were to turn away from this work, and if the Lord were to withdraw His restraining grace and I fell into sin in consequence, would you not? It is all of His mercy that I am preserved from many of the pitfalls that ensnare other young men.

As to my health, I think I never was so well and hearty in my life. [He then goes into great detail about his eating habits.] I am enlarging on these trifles, thought they are not worth writing about, because I know they will interest you and perhaps help you to feel more settled about me…

Continue to pray for me, dear Mother. Though comfortable as regards temporal matters, and happy and thankful, I feel I need your prayers…Oh Mother, I cannot tell you, I cannot describe how I long to be a missionary; to carry the Glad Tidings to poor, perishing sinners; to spend and be spent for Him who died for me. I feel as if for this I could give up everything, every idol, however dear.

Think, Mother, of twelve millions — a number so great that it is impossible to realise it — yes, twelve million souls in China, every year, passing without God and without hope into eternity. Oh, what need for earnestness in the Church and in individual believers!

Oh, it is a noble, an honourable calling! I feel my utter unworthiness and unfitness for it. I want more of the Divine life, more of the Spirit of God to make me a faithful servant and witness. Oh for more grace, love, faith, zeal, holiness!…

I must conclude. Would you not give up all for Jesus who died for you? Yes, Mother, I know you would. God be with you and comfort you.

Amy Carmichael:

Amy Carmichael’s father had passed away, and Amy, as the oldest child, was a help to her mother in many ways. She had also become something of an “adopted” daughter to a friend of the family, Robert Wilson, also affectionately know as “Fatherie” or “theD.O.M.” (Dear Old Man). These two factors made her hesitate, at first, in accepting the call to the mission field. It must be remembered also that in that day both the communication and travel situations would make mother and daughter feel even farther away (in fact, if I remember correctly, once Amy got to India she never returned home, though her mother did visit her there.)

She wrote to her mother:

My Precious Mother,

Have you given your child unreservedly to the Lord for whatever He wills?…

Oh may He strengthen you to say “Yes” to Him if He asks something which costs.

Darling Mother, for a long time as you know the thought of those dying in the dark — 50,000 of them every day, while we at home live in the midst of blazing light — has been very present with me, and the longing to go to them, and tell them of Jesus, has been strong upon me. ..

But home claims seemed to say “Stay”, and I thought it was His Will; it was perhaps til yesterday. I can’t explain it, but lately the need seems to have come closer, and I wrote down a few days ago…why I am not going.

1. Your need of me, my Mother.
2. The great loneliness it would mean to my dear second Father.
3. The thought that by staying I might make it easier for others to go if He called.
4. My not being strong.

But in His sight are these four things worth staying from those poor heathen for? You have given me three-quarters up as it is. My dear old Fatherie is the Lord’s wholly, he would not let me kept out just for him. The other two things surely I could trust about. Still, they seemed to say “Stay”.

Yesterday suddenly the impulse came to have a good talk with my dear Fatherie…and after it I went to my own room and just asked the Lord what it all meant, what did He wish me to do, and, Mother, as clearly as I ever heard you speak, I heard Him say,

“GO YE.”

I never heard it just so plainly before.; I cannot be mistaken, for I know He spoke. He says “Go”, I cannot stay.

Mother, I feel as if I had been stabbing someone I loved. It is Friday now, I could not finish this yesterday, and through all the keen sharp pain which has come since Wednesday, the certainty that it was His voice…has never wavered; though all my heart has shrunk from what it means…the certainty is there…nothing but that sure word, His word, could make it possible to do it, for until he spoke, and I answered, “Yes, Lord”, I never knew what it would cost.

These are the verses He gave me…”If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me.” “For whosoever will save his life shall lose it, and whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall find it.” “He that loveth father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me.”

“To obey is better than sacrifice.”

Many difficulties have risen in my mind, they seem very great, the “crooked places” seem very crooked, but it seems to me that all He asks is that we should take the one step He shows us, and in simplest, most practical trust leave all results to Him.

Mother, I know that very few of our friends will think I am right. Those who don’t know the Shepherd’s Voice themselves will be quite sure I am very wrong and mistaken, but He has said, “Walk before Me, and be thou perfect.” He knows, and He won’t let me disnonour Him by making a mistake and following my own fancy instead of Him. If it is so, He will show it to me, but if it is His Will, I must do it.

There isn’t much of gladness in this letter, I’m afraid, but I don’t feel anything except sore at the pain this must bring to my loved ones.

Good-bye, my Mother. May He come very near to you and strengthen and comfort you.

Your Own Amy

P.S. Some of these things may cross your mind as they have mine.

What about leaving my God-given Father who does seem to need me a little? Cannot I trust Him to care for him? If He tells me to leave him, He won’t let him suffer. Clara Bradshaw met Hudson Taylor once, and he prayed, “Show this child of thine what blessing she is keeping from her own father” — by staying when He had called her.

If I stayed, might I not keep those dearest to me from God’s richest blessing? But this is a very hard bit to think of, I can hardly face it steadily yet.

“Health” you will think of. He won’t let that hinder if He has said, “Go”. Then as to the money — I don’t see clearly, but I believe He will show us about that. If He does not, I will take it that that means “stay”, for He could not mean me to let you suffer wrongly. But I think soon the boys will be able to help.

Forgive me for the length of this post, but I can’t leave out the response of Amy’s mother:

My Own Precious Child,

He Who hath led will lead
All through the wilderness,
He Who hath fed will surely feed…
He Who hath heard thy cry
Will never close His ear,
He Who hath marked Thy faintest sigh
Will not forget thy tear.
He loveth always, faileth never,
So rest on Him today — for ever.

Yes, dearest Amy, He has lent you to me all these years. He only knows what a strength, comfort and joy you have been to me. In sorrow He made you my staff and solace, in loneliness my more than child companion, and in gladness my bright and merry-hearted sympathizer. So, darling, when He asks you now to go away from within my reach, can I say nay? No, no, Amy, He is yours — you are His — to take you where He pleases and to use you as He pleases. I can trust you to Him, and I do — and I thank Him for letting you hear His voice as you have done. I shall not speak of your dear loving letter or my feelings. How weak we are. But He knows our frame, and remembers. “Go ye” — my heart echoes. “Oh send forth Thy light and Thy truth, let them lead me — let them bring me into Thy holy hill and to Thy tabernacles”, met my eye as I opened my Bible — do you see what the holy hill and tabernacles meant to me in this connection? I never saw it before — and then in the next page comes, “Therefore God has blessed thee for ever.” All day He has helped me, and my heart unfailingly says, “Go ye.” He only knows what this means and will mean to me — to you — to us all. I dare not think — but His grace is sufficient, Amy. Let us keep our eye on Him — and then no wave will swamp us — and He will bear us up in His arms. Oh, isn’t is strange we are not more cheerfully willing followers — to think of His wonderful everlasting love to us, and how little He ever asks in return. Amy, darling, today I got a moment’s glimpse of it all, and how small this life seemed. When we are dying, how very little will it seem that He has asked us to give up for Him. So, my precious Child, I give you back into His loving arms, saying from the depths of my being, “Take her, dear Lord — Thou wilt take the most loving care of her, use her in Thy service and for Thy glory now and where Thou pleasest, for Christ’s sake. Amen.”

For dear Mr. Wilson I feel so much, perhaps more than for myself, but God has his happiness in His keeping. He cannot and will not make a mistake. All other points are minor and must wait — the one thought has been enough today. One step is all that I am equal to — all else will be clear. “The Lord is mt Shepherd, I shall not want.” “Goodness and mercy shall follow me” — and those who trust — “all the days of my life”, and we shall all gather from the north, south, east and west in His home above, and will cast our crowns at His feet, saying “Worthy is the Lamb that was slain to receive power and riches and wisdom and strength and honour and glory and blessing.” Til then may we each one be found faithful.

Ever my darling child’s loving Mother.

For days, it seems to me now, the Lord has been preparing the way, Amy, for your letter.

From Amy Carmichael of Dohnavur by Frank Houghton

You can read more about Amy Carmichael’s mother here.

Kids answer questions about moms

Posted on May 11, 2007 by Barbara Harper

This has been in my files for years — I don’t know where it originally came from. These are questions put to elementary-aged children about moms. Some of their answers are pretty cute. Enjoy!

Why did God make mothers?
1. She’s the only one who knows where the scotch tape is.
2. Mostly to clean the house.
3. To help us out of there when we were getting born.

How did God make mothers?
1. He used dirt, just like for the rest of us.
2. Magic plus super powers and a lot of stirring.
3. God made my mom just the same like he made me. He just used bigger parts.

What ingredients are mothers made of?
1. God makes mothers out of clouds and angel hair and everything nice in the world and one dab of mean.
2. They had to get their start from men’s bones. Then they mostly use string I think.

Why did God give you your mother and not some other mom?
1. We’re related.
2. God knew she likes me a lot more than other people’s moms like me.

What kind of little girl was your mom?
1. My mom has always been my mom and none of that other stuff.
2. I don’t know because I wasn’t there, but my guess would be pretty bossy.
3. They say she used to be nice.

What did mom need to know about dad before she married him?
1. His last name.
2. She had to know his background. Like is he a crook? Does he make at least $800 a year? Did he say NO to drugs and YES to chores.

Why did your mom marry your dad?
1. My dad makes the best spaghetti in the world. And my mom eats a lot.
2. She got too old to do anything else with him.
3. My grandma says that mom didn’t have her thinking cap on.

Who’s the boss at your house?
1. Mom doesn’t want to be boss, but she has to because dad’s such a goofball.
2. Mom. You can tell by room inspection. She sees the stuff under the bed.
3. I guess Mom is, but only because she has a lot more to do than dad.

What’s the difference between moms and dads?
1. Moms work at work and work at home, and dads just go to work at work.
2. Moms know how to talk to teachers without scaring them.
3. Dads are taller and stronger, but moms have all the real power ’cause that’s who you got to ask if you want to sleep over at your friend’s.

What does your mom do in her spare time?
1. Mothers don’t do spare time.
2. To hear her tell it, she pays bills all day long.

What would it take to make your mom perfect?
1. On the inside she’s already perfect. Outside, I think some kind of plastic surgery.
2. Diet. You know, her hair. I’d diet, maybe blue.

If you could change one thing about your mom, what would it be?
1. She has this weird thing about me keeping my room clean. I’d get rid of that.
2. I’d make my mom smarter. Then she would know it was my sister who did it and not me.

A few poems for Mother’s Day

Posted on May 10, 2007 by Barbara Harper

I have several poems in my files about mothers. With Mother’s Day coming up I thought I’d post a few of them here.

This first one was written by Amy Carmichael. I had mentioned Amy Carmichael a few months ago, who, though she had
no children of her own, had a mother’s heart for the ones in the orphanages God used her to start to rescue children from being sold into a life of evil in India. This poem has been a blessing to me in thinking of and praying for my own children.

Father, hear us, we are praying,
Hear the words our hearts are saying,
We are praying for our children.

Keep them from the powers of evil,
From the secret, hidden peril,
Father, hear us for our children.

From the whirlpool that would suck them,
From the treacherous quicksand, pluck them,
Father, hear us for our children.

From the worldling’s hollow gladness,
From the sting of faithless sadness,
Father. Father, keep our children

Through life’s troubled waters steer them,
Through life’s bitter battle cheer them,
Father, Father, be thou near them.

Read the language of our longing,
Read the wordless pleading thronging,
Holy Father, for our children.

And wherever they may bide,
Lead them home at eventide.

This one was an encouragement to me that I could pray along the way when it seemed there wasn’t much time to get alone and pray when children were small.

The while she darns her children’s socks
She prays for little stumbling feet.
Each folded pair within its box
Fits faith’s bright sandals, sure and fleet.

While washing out, with mother pains,
Small dusty suits and socks and slips,
She prays that God may cleanse the stains
From little hearts and hands and lips.

And when she breaks the fragrant bread
Or pours each portion in its cup,
For grace to keep their spirits fed,
Her mother-heart is lifted up!

Oh, busy ones, whose souls grow faint
Whose tasks seem longer than the day,
It doesn’t take a cloistered saint
To find a little time to pray!

–Author unknown

The following captures something I prayed for often — patience, kindness, gentleness.

Father in Heaven, make me wise,
So that my gaze may never meet
A question in my children’s eyes;
God keep me always kind and sweet.

And patient, too, before their need;
Let each vexation know its place,
Let gentleness be all my creed,
Let laughter live upon my face!

A mother’s day is very long,
There are so many things to do!
But never let me lose my song
Before the hardest day is through.

– Margaret E. Sangster

This one reminds me of my blessings.

Dear Lord, it’s such a hectic day
With little time to stop and pray,
For life’s been anything but calm
Since You called on me to be a mom.

Running errands, matching socks,
Building dreams with building blocks,
Cooking, cleaning, and finding shoes
And other stuff that children lose.

Fitting lids on bottles of bugs,
Wiping tears and giving hugs,
A stack of last weeks mail to read,
So, where’s the quiet time I need?

Yet when I steal a minute, Lord
Just at the sink or ironing board,
To ask the blessings of Your grace
I see then, in my small one’s face
That you have blessed me
All the while….
And I stop to kiss
That precious smile.

— Author unknown

I have many more but I don’t want to overwhelm anyone. 🙂 I may post a few more later, or I may save some for next year. Hope you enjoyed them. 🙂

Mother Sewing by Mary Cassatt

Courtesy of AllPosters.com

Easter Day

Posted on April 8, 2007 by Barbara Harper

Hope you had a blessed Easter Day! Ours was very nice.

A few days ago I posted a recipe for Resurrection Rolls, but didn’t have a picture. I thought I’d post a picture of one from today. They didn’t get as “poofy” as usual, and this picture turned out blurrier than I thought when I took it, but you get the idea.

My husband played around with it and took some photos on black fabric. I like the way the light behind it looks like it’s coming from inside.

I think young kids would particularly like these, but our guys still like them, too, so they’ve become an Easter tradition.

We have another tradition that didn’t exactly start out as a tradition. No one likes hard-cooked eggs (except maybe for a deviled egg or two), so we never did the egg-dyeing. I kind of hate that my kids never did that, but it seemed a waste to do all of that when no one liked to eat them. I think I used to put candy in the little plastic eggs, but later just dumped it in the Easter basket. One years my husband decided to do an Easter Egg hunt with money in the eggs, mostly coins. I’m not sure why — maybe it was just spontaneous. But the kids have asked for it every year since. It was funny this morning — Jeremy and Jason (22 and 19) asked if we were doing that again this year, saying things like, “Well, of course, we really do it for Jesse.” 🙂

We traditionally do the hunt after Sunday afternoon dinner — though I think sometimes we’ve done it after Sunday evening church. It was in the 30s this morning, but warmed up a little in the afternoon, so it was a pleasant day. Here are a few pictures from “the hunt.”

Starting point:

Some are hidden on the ground, under leaves, in the drainspout, etc., but Jim does put some in unusual places:

By the way — that’s a scenic view of my neighbor’s junk pile, isn’t it? That’s what I see from my place at the dining room table. I’d like to plant a tree in the line of vision.

One year we were running short of plastic eggs, and Jim dashed out to the store at the last minute. The regular pastel ones were all out, but he found these:

Seems a little strange to see Spiderman on Easter! 🙂

Here’s part of Jeremy’s collection. At some point they stop and count so Jim can tell them how many are left. He’s actually started keeping a list of where he put them because in previous years he’s have a hard time remembering the last few.

Jason finds the last one:

Everyone counting up their finds:

Jeremy’s shirt, in case you’re wondering, says, “Maybe if this shirt is witty enough, someone will finally love me.” 🙂

When we were first married, I was pretty anti-everything related to holidays that wasn’t directly related spiritually. But one year I heard someone whom I highly respected explain the Christian versions of the symbols like the egg. So I realized that Christians could use those things in good conscience. I didn’t agree, necessarily, that it was right for us to do, at first, but I realized it was one of those things Christians could differ on and still love each other. 😀 Then one year when the kids were small, I thought about Easter baskets and decided there was nothing in the world wrong with them. And somewhere along the way, I began to realize that all of springtime is a picture of the resurrection, as the Martin Luther quote I posted a few days ago mentioned. So I relaxed about it all a lot. 🙂

We still don’t do the Easter bunny, though. That never quite made sense to me. And I don’t like how people in public will ask kids, “What’s the Easter Bunny bringing you?” as if it were a springtime version of Santa Claus. We don’t exchange gifts — I think I used to put little toys, pencils, and stuffed animals in the boys baskets, but overall it was pretty simple.

On that note, I had a laugh his morning. Jim had put the coins in the eggs before the kids got up. When I went upstairs after breakfast, I saw an egg on my dresser in front of the jewelry box. I thought, “Oh, how sweet — he left me a little something.” We don’t usually do anything for each other for Easter. I thought maybe it was a little piece of candy or something. I picked it up and it rattled! I opened it — and there was a smaller plastic egg inside. I opened that, and there was….nothing. I laughed and told everyone about it later. Jason said, “Now you have to give her something, Dad!” No, I just thought it was funny. Come to find out Jesse had unearthed it when he was cleaning his room yesterday, and asked Jim where to put it, and Jim told him just to put it in our room. But I didn’t notice it til this morning.

One of the best parts of Easter, to me, is the reflection on Christ’s death and resurrection all through the week. Though as Christians we commemorate the resurrection every Sunday, and the resurrection is why we meet on Sundays, there’s a sense in which it is nice to have this time to really focus on it (just like we should be thankful every day, but Thanksgiving is a special time to especially remember all we have to be thankful for).

Another of the best parts of Easter is the music. We always have special music at Easter time, and it is so beautiful and uplifting. The choir tonight didn’t do a cantata, but rather a number of songs with one of our men reading selected Scripture passages in between.

I’ve posted a lot of quotes, poetry, and hymns related to Easter, and I have a few still in my files, but didn’t want to overdo it. But I think I’ll leave you with one last one.

The strife is o’er, the battle done;
The victory of life is won;
The song of triumph has begun:
Alleluia!

The powers of death have done their worst;
But Christ their legions hath dispersed;
Let shouts of holy joy outburst:
Alleluia!

The three sad days are quickly sped;
He rises glorious from the dead;
All glory to our risen Head!
Alleluia!

He closed the yawning gates of hell;
The bars from heaven’s high portals fell;
Let hymns of praise His triumphs tell!
Alleluia!

Lord, by the stripes which wounded Thee,
From death’s dread sting Thy servants free,
That we may live, and sing to Thee:
Alleluia!

Alleluia! Alleluia! Alleluia!

Author of the words is unknown
Author of the music is Giovanni Pierluigi da Palestrina

And for a very moving story about the power of the resurrection, see My Son, My Son! My Only Son! from The Jungle Hut, a great blog I just discovered.

Easter poem

Posted on April 7, 2007 by Barbara Harper

Tomb, thou shalt not hold Him longer;
Death is strong, but Life is stronger;
Stronger than the dark, the light;
Stronger than the wrong, the right;
Faith and Hope triumphant say
Christ will rise on Easter Day.

– Phillips Brooks, An Easter Carol