I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the things I take for granted. Blessings of everyday life, like being able to turn a knob on the kitchen sink so clean water flows into my glass. Loading the washer with detergent and more clean water, instead of scrubbing clothes in a dirty stream. Heading off to church on Sunday morning without fear of persecution or arrest.

My lifestyle isn’t showy, but it’s comfortable. It’s what I’ve enjoyed for my entire life, a byproduct of freedom. I’m well aware, though, that freedom is not free. It has been paid for by generations of patriotic types who were willing to step out of their comfortable cocoons and serve their country well. I learned early on in our marriage what it means to commit to a military man. Together, we learned how to create a sense of home wherever our country sent us.

_______

I’m 23 years old, and my plane has touched down 7,000+ miles from home. My husband meets our toddler son and I at Frankfurt International Airport, and hugs us like he’ll never let us go. We’re amazed that all three pieces of luggage have arrived safely, and within minutes we’re heading up the autobahn towards home. We chatter nonstop, trying to make up for the five months we’ve been apart. Home for the next three years will be a cozy two-bedroom place on the second floor of an American apartment complex. Welcome to the world of military families who are skilled at sinking roots, making new friends, and adapting quickly to a new environment.

Yet…I’m hungry, jet-lagged, and already homesick.

Delivery trucks scream past, their sides plastered with words that I can neither pronounce nor understand. A few miles later, rain is slapping the windshield like a mood-detector. The wipers beat a monotonous rhythm that my weary brain interprets as, “You’re stuck! You’re stuck! You’re stuck!”

A good night’s sleep works wonders. I awaken refreshed and happy to be living under the same roof with my husband again. In the following weeks, I’m convinced that God often works best when one feels stuck. I pore over the book of Jeremiah, where it describes the Israelites’ adjustment to their new life as exiles in Babylon. I’m certainly not in exile, but the advice God gave to his people back then also rings fresh and true in this new chapter of my life: “Build houses and make yourselves at home. Put in gardens and eat what grows in that country.” (Jeremiah 29:5, The Message)

In other words, sink roots. Trust God. Carry on as usual.

So, with a determination to make the most of my time overseas, I think of reasons to celebrate our new surroundings; small, shaky steps that fuel my enthusiasm. I ask God to renew my mind and open my heart to new experiences, sort of like little Samuel in the Old Testament: “Speak, Lord…I’m listening.”

Within days, I meet two new friends who also happen to share my Christian faith. We talk about the churches we left behind, and the ladies’ fellowship groups we belonged to in the U.S. It seems only natural to begin a new fellowship, and we invite others to join us every Thursday morning at my house. Over the next six months, our group of three grows into a circle of almost thirty women! We split into two groups and take turns hosting. God is hard at work changing not only us, but our community.

God soon opens another door, as well. I apply for a job with the local military chaplaincy and am hired for a position that includes greeting newcomers with “welcome packets”. The packets are filled with practical information about our community and the surrounding German countryside and culture. It’s a perfect opportunity to make a tangible difference in the lives of other military families, who often feel like their lives have been shaken up and blasted out of a time tunnel. It’s a paid position, but in my heart it feels more like ministry. Young wives far from home respond well to the outreach. I invite them to our Bible study, and our numbers continue to grow.

Three years overseas pass surprisingly fast. Our family has increased in number from three to four. On the morning of our return flight, I’m not at all surprised when my eyes suddenly cloud with tears at the sight of our temporary home fading from view. What began as a dreaded assignment became a period of memory-making opportunities and a chance to grow closer as a family and as believers. Over the course of three short years, the Lord transformed my homesick heart into a fertile garden plot. There, precious new relationships took root. New challenges stretched me as a person. The seeds He planted would grow into a bumper crop that not only met my immediate needs, but would continue to nurture my soul for many years to come.

Freedom isn’t free. It’s the hard work of men and women who willingly go when they’re sent, and who represent our country well. That freedom blossomed long before you and I were born, and with God’s blessing, will continue long after we’re gone.

©2008, Bonnie Bruno

For more slice-of-life stories, visit Bonnie’s Macromoments blog: http://macromoments.blogspot.com

Our oldest daughter is a packrat. She always has been. When she was little she would line up her used paper drinking cups and chewing gum on her windowsill. The very thought of throwing anything away was extremely traumatic for her. Fortunately she has mellowed out a bit over the years and become more reasonable about what she must keep. Good thing, too, because later this summer she will become a married woman. And the thought of packing up boxes of used bits of chewing gum and moldy Dixie cups would’ve been painful for all of us, her fiancé included.

As we began the process of cleaning out her bedroom, it wasn’t without teary reminders of her childhood. Camp tee shirts, blue ribbons won in basketball and ragged teddy bears were among our findings. I’ll admit I got a bit choked up seeing those things leave her room headed for the moving boxes. Each time I packed something, I was letting go of what used to be. I felt a bit like George Banks in my favorite movie, Father of the Bride. It is hard to let your little girl grow up.

As emotional as the process has been, I’m experiencing something quite unexpected. Relief. Each box I pack for her represents achievement for us as her parents. Being a parent is hard work. Late nights, tearful prayers and a small fortune later, our first-born has turned into the confident, beautiful, God-fearing young woman we anticipated all along. That is not to say I won’t sob my eyes out when she walks down the aisle in August, but it will be mixed emotion. I’ll be letting go of what was, finding satisfaction in a job well done and embracing what is ahead for all of us.

Wandering through the rooms and halls of my home now, I see stacks of boxes ready to leave our nest. Soon couches and chairs and beds will be packed up and our house will become less and less crowded! I almost feel guilty for saying this, but while I dread the thought of seeing my daughter leave, the STUFF is another matter. It seems like my husband and I spent the first two decades of our family accumulating things as fast as we could and now I jump with glee at the thought of getting rid of it all!

While we have two more kids at home, the youngest being just eight, I have many more years of living with children’s stuff. Yet, our second daughter will leave for college next year and times will change again. In my quest to live authentically, I am reevaluating what we really need for this next phase of life. We have a 4,300 square foot house full of things. Do we need that much stuff? Do we need this much space? We have cars to maintain, furniture to dust, rugs to vacuum and of course, a never-ending list of remodeling projects to get to. Somehow the feelings of excitement I used to experience over those things has faded into fantasizing about throwing it all into the garbage can and moving to a deserted island with only a backpack and my sunscreen. Ah, the freedom!

Life marches on, circumstances change and priorities adjust. Letting go of the past is an emotional process, but there is a freedom in living authentically in the present. Evaluating what we really need, and what we can do without, frees us to clear away the clutter of life. Clinging to the past keeps us from embracing all that God wants us to experience in the here and now. God has big plans for us and I am ready to step forward with anticipation of our next season in life. I wish I could tuck my little girl under my wing once again, but it is time to let her fly. And by watching her fly out of the nest, I feel a new sense of freedom.  I can look forward to our next assignment in life. And two more little birds learning to spread their wings.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven…” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1

©2008, Melissa Michaels

I remember that place, that deciding place of how to educate our children. I remember its weight.

I recall standing there with pudgy hands wrapped around my leg, peering down that road diverged in the yellow wood. Unsure of the next step, the faint whisper from a faint heart came, “Which road for us, Lord?”

We stayed there for awhile waiting, asking, listening. And we found that to hear His voice on how to wisely educate children was best heard on one’s knees. He will speak: Keep your nose in the Book.

There on your knees, waiting for the Word, it is sometimes easy to forget that He loves these children even more than you do (for they are His)—He does have a unique, individual plan for each of them that He will faithfully reveal.

He called this family to take up the road less traveled, the one marked “Home Education.”

Though many had gone before, winnowing a worn and true path, I confess, we felt like pioneers, forging new ground.

(But isn’t each family pioneers in their own right? We are each father, mother for the first time, traversing the parenting prairie with these children for the first time. Where are we going? How do we get there and what do we need for the trek? Raising up children is new territory for each of us.)

Whichever trail you set your foot to will decide your landscapes and views. Be it home education and the myriad of paths therein, or other educational routes, a family grows out of the landscape of the path which they tread.

That trail becomes a way of life, a way of seeing, a way of being. Consider, dear Mama, which landscapes and vistas He has put in your heart to see… and embrace that path and its lifestyle. The journey, whichever one, encompasses the travelers.

Here is how I might suggest you consider the journey into Home Education:

Authentically.
Live your life. And invite your children to join you. Read together. Pray together. Sing together. Work, bake, garden, chore, clean, sew, fix, build together. Don’t fabricate artifical demarcation lines between schooling and living. Live a one-piece life. Live holistically.

Joyfully.
Explore! Be awed by His World! Restore Wonder! Be a creative, thinking, exuberant person who spills with the joy of learning. Your zest for learning and life will be contagious–the children will catch it!

Curiously.
Read, read, read. Fill the house with library books. Play classical music. Post the art of the masters about the house. Go for walks in the woods. Learn a new language, a new culture, a new poem. Everyday set out to discover again, and again, and again. The whole earth is full of His glory! Go seek His face…

Consistently.
Consistently read. Consistently pray. Consistently keep the routine. Consistently live an everyday liturgy.
Children thrive in routine. So do households. Have hardstops: times that you fully stop to pray, to read, to write. Regardless of what isn’t done, what isn’t finished. Make a full stop, do the needful thing, then return to meals, laundry, household management.
Consistently be consistent.

That’s all. The curriculum doesn’t really matter, so much. Use what works for you, how He leads you.

Just make it part of your real life, make it a joy, make it all a discovery, and prayerfully make it consistent.
For us, our guideposts through a day:

~Prayer, memorization, Bible Reading, hymn singing

~2 hours a day of Reading –especially before they are five

~Reading Living Books (history, science, geography, literature, poetry, art appreciation)
(for lists of living books see here: Ambleside Online, 1000 Good Books, Real Learning Booklist)

~Bluedorn’s Ten Things to Do before the age of Ten offers good thoughts for beginning homeschooling

~ Readings happen in Circle Time, also known as Morning Time (these morning time posts are priceless gems, worth printing out and praying over) …

~Latin, math, grammar/writing/spelling

~Apprenticing to real life: 2 hours of barn work daily, and then household chores

And at day’s end, we think on our Seven Daily Rungs, the seven things which we endeavor to learn and do daily, to live holistically, our one-piece life.

But really, curriculum is not the road on which homeschoolers travel. Whether what lines the shelf is of a Charlotte Mason bent, or classical, Abeka or Sonlight, Tapestry of Grace or Bob Jones is of secondary importance.

We travel on The Way. We live and breathe in Him. He is our road, He leads us on, He is a guide worthy of our trust.

Lean on Him.

©2008, Ann Voskamp

Award-winning author Shelley Adina wrote her first teen novel when she was 13. It was rejected by the literary publisher to whom she sent it, but he did say she knew how to tell a story. That was enough to keep her going through the rest of her adolescence, a career, a move to another country, a B.A. in Literature, an M.A. in Writing Popular Fiction, and countless manuscript pages.

Shelley is a world traveler and pop culture junkie with an incurable addiction to designer handbags. She knows the value of a relationship with a gracious God and loving friends, and writes books about fun and faith–with a side of glamour. Between books, Shelley loves traveling, playing the piano and Celtic harp, watching movies, and making period costumes.

My four year-old is not toilet trained yet. This makes me embarrassed, frustrated, and flummoxed—sometimes all in the same minute. I really think he might be the first kindergartener to go to school in Pull-ups.

We’ve tried everything:

• the encouragement technique: “You can do it!”
• the peer-pressure technique: “Doesn’t everyone else in your class wear underwear?”
• the shaming technique: “Only babies go in their diaper.”
• and finally, the bribe technique: “If you go number two in the potty, we’ll buy you ANYTHING you want from the store.” (By the way, the price limit of said reward has escalated in recent months. He could ask for a live pony now and I might say yes!)

Nothing has worked. I’m not Catholic, but this sure seems like Purgatory–or at least, one of Dante’s circles of Hades. According to my extensive (okay, two-minute) Wikipedia research, there is actually a level where people are covered in human, well, never mind.

The other day, I sat in the bathroom across from our little man, doing my best to affirm him. He seemed to really try, and I felt the slightest glimmer of hope. “You can do it!” I said.

Then I got so desperate for victory that I started chanting, “Push it out, push it out, w-a-a-a-a-y out!”

I’m on the edge here, people.

I know it’s just a stage, but I’m glad he’s awfully cute. Otherwise, he might spend all his waking moments in time-out.

Or I might run screaming out the door.

Better yet: I’ll leave, and let Dad handle the potty challenges. If I kept score as to who’s changed the most diapers, he’d be waaaay on the losing side. Maybe I should “cash in” all that mommy-duty capital now.

(Okay, I’m back now. I had a temporary break with reality.)

I know in the big scheme of things, potty training is not a world-shattering event. I also know that one day, the hubby and I will look back on this time in our lives with nostalgia, saying “why did they have to grow up so fast?”

Still, it’s hard. And it feels like it will never be over.

That’s why it’s so nice to know that I’m not alone.

Today, I read an online article called “God Sees.” The author, Mary DeMuth, wrote: ‘When we attempt to potty-train for the umpteenth time, having given up on M & Ms, begging, and tears, God sees…He sees what we’ve hidden and is especially fond of rewarding what we’ve done for Him secretly (Matthew 6:4).”

I ask You, is God’s timing perfect, or what?

He used Mary’s words to remind me that even the smallest, way-out-of-the-spotlight details of my days matter to Him. Perhaps the unsung moments of life are truly the most important of all.

So I’m praying for patience, gritting my teeth, and shelling out hard-earned cash for glorified diapers.
And I’m encouraging myself with the fact that if the boy doesn’t have a breakthrough soon, at least we’ll gain an entry in the Guinness Book of World Records.

©2008, Dena Dyer

For brethren, ye have been called unto liberty; only use not liberty for an occasion to the flesh, but by love to serve one another.  For all the law is fulfilled in one word, even in this:  Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself.  Galatians 5 13-14, KJV

This freedom which God has given to us is also known as free will.  Along with free will comes the ability to make our very own decisions, and accept the consequences of those decisions.  Along with freedom, comes responsibility.  As George Bernard Shaw said, “Liberty means responsibility.  That is why most men dread it”.

As parents, it is our responsibility to help mold our children’s characters so that as they get older and make their own decisions, they will understand the gravity of making the right decision, and the consequences each decision has.  Not only do they need to be taught how to weigh the pros and cons of each decision, but also how each decision will affect their relationship with others and with God.  The guiding principles of each decision we make are found within the Ten Commandments, and one of them was mentioned in the verse from Galatians above.  Does this decision I am making serve one another and the Lord, or does it hurt others and the Lord?  Some people argue that following the Ten Commandments actually inhibits our freedom of choice, but in actuality, it enhances this freedom because it eliminates all of the wrong kinds of choices we can make, thereby allowing us the freedom to choose wisely and without fear of sinning or hurting others.  Brigham Young was once quoted as saying, “True independence and freedom can only exist in doing what is right”.

As Christians, we are called to use our freedom wisely.  In Galatians, we are asked to use it not to choose sin, but to choose the righteous path of love.   Freedom in Christ is the  freedom to love.

I run in the path of your commands, for you have set my heart free.  Psalm 118:5 (NIV)

This Fourth of July, we are reminded that our nation was founded by a group of Christians who were seeking to form a nation based on a foundation of religious freedom.  Patrick Henry said, “It cannot be emphasized too strongly or too often that this great nation was founded, not by religionists, but by Christians; not on religions, but on the gospel of  Jesus Christ!  For this very reason peoples of other faiths have been afforded asylum, prosperity, and freedom of worship here”.

It serves us well, then, to remember all of those who sacrificed for our freedom – those who followed Christ’s example by giving their lives so that we could be free.  It’s important to keep all of these men and women in prayer, and to live each day with their sacrifice as our guiding principle to not take our freedom for granted.  To do any less than that would cheapen their sacrifice, and would dishonor their memory, and would make Christ’s and their sacrifice less meaningful.

Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom.
2 Corinthians 3:17 (NIV)

©2008, Valerie Wolff

I am 31-years-old, and grew up watching you and Kirk on TV everyday. It is awesome that you love God–so do I!

Do you and your brother send your children to a Christian School? If so, why is this so important to you? I have 3 little ones of my own and I am faced with this decision.

_________________________

Thanks for your email. Yes, we send our children to a private Christian school. It’s important for us because I want the education they receive to be rooted in God. Not only where creation is taught (not Darwinism), but the teachers have a heart for Jesus.

This means they pray, talk about problems and solutions in a Biblical way, and handle each situation with a Christ-minded approach. This is especially important because I want a school that co-labors with us, and that which we teach at home.

Going to a Christian school doesn’t mean there aren’t problems though–there still are. Kids will be kids. I feel somewhat safer knowing that my children are surrounded by other kids who are growing up with the same values, but I’m still cautious and aware of my children’s friends and activities both on and off of school.

I strongly believe that a school, which is based on the foundation of Christ, will be a safer place than a public school, where anything goes.

The theme of this month’s CWO issue is Family. In thinking and praying about this topic, I kept coming back to the fact that for me, the word family most often means—friends. I grew up in a very small family. My parents divorced when I was quite young and Mom never remarried. We had no aunts, uncles, cousins, or grandparents on my mom’s side, and most of my father’s relatives became non-existent to us when my parents divorced. Later, when Grandma and Grandpa Gappa passed away, there was no one left but mom, my older sister and younger brother. Mom went to be with the Lord a few years ago, leaving the three of us comprising the nucleus of our original family. That’s it—three of us.

We each have our own families now, and we get together whenever possible. Like many baby boomers, we’re getting closer the older we get (funny how that works for some of us, eh?) But also like many mobile families of this century, we all live in different states.

That’s why for me, the term family has for many years included my closest friends. For me, my friends are my family. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember. That’s why I’d like to share a story with you now about my Family of Linda’s.

Lord, Send Me a Linda!

“You’ve got to get us out of here,” I overheard my mother saying to my father one day as he dropped off an envelope of cash that was formally called “child support” but that we had come to know as “food money.” “The roaches are every where,” she cried to him. “The spray they use every week is killing your children, you have got to do something!” And that is how we moved from the projects of Cleveland, Ohio to the lower west side back in 1960. I was five years old. It’s also how I came to know my first two Linda’s.

Next-door to our rented house on West 105th Street, was Linda S. and across the alley behind our house was Linda B., my very best friends growing up—more like sisters than friends. For over a decade we did everything together. We played dress-up together, went to school together, my mom took us on outings together. We had countless sleep-overs where we talked about our dreams and shared our secrets. We smoked our first cigarettes together, turning green in equal measure. We grew up and parted, but their friendships were cornerstones of my life. Over the years, any time I met someone named Linda, I felt a warm glow in my heart.

Decades later in Arizona as a new Christian, it was another Linda B., hundreds of miles from my Ohio hometown, who befriended me and showed through her example what a woman of God was like. We were as close as two sisters could be. I was 35 and hadn’t lived near my own sister for many years. My Linda, as I came to call her, showed me as a new Christian what it truly meant to have a “sister-in-Christ.” She was my family—as were many of the new people who came into my life when I took a major u-turn and joined the Family of God.

When I met my husband a few years later in a long-distance whirlwind courtship it was bittersweet. We both felt that God had orchestrated our union, yet it meant moving from my home in Arizona to Minnesota. I was leaving the only Christian family I had ever known. I was leaving My Linda behind – and the pain in my heart and soul was deep.

“Lord,” I cried. “Please, please send me someone like Linda,” I prayed as I began another chapter in my life in my new Minnesota home. I was turning forty, and lonely for a sisterhood friendship like the one I had left behind in Arizona.

“Hello, welcome to our church, how are you?” a lovely woman warmly greeted us as we entered. Praying for a church home to call our own, my new husband and I walked into the small neighborhood church not yet knowing God’s plan for us. With a glowing smile that matched her spirit, I breathed deeply and held onto her a little tighter as we shook hands in greeting when she said, “Hi! My name is Linda, what’s yours?”

Today, over ten years later, Linda L. is more than a friend—a true sister-in-Christ, she is family. God answered my prayer. He sent me a Linda and I send him my thanksgiving daily for the friendships He orchestrates when we open our hearts to Him.

My husband and I have been mumbling for years about leaving Minnesota to relocate to Texas. The older our boomer body’s get, the colder the winters seem to become. As I think about starting over in another state in this, my fifth decade of life, I wonder what surprises the Lord will have in store for us.

Surely, He can once again send me a Linda, don’t you think?

I’ll keep you informed.

Until next month, God be with you and your family.

©2007, Allison Bottke

One of my all time favorite films is Independence Day. No matter how many times I watch it, I find myself emotionally engaged in the drama, passion and pathos of the story. This film covers such a broad spectrum of button-pushing feelings and sentiments it isn’t funny. Where else can you find a balanced mixture of love and hate, humor and sadness, forgiveness and anger, survival and death, victory and defeat, and good and evil? All that, and Will Smith, too!

If you scroll through all of my CWO columns for the past seven months, you’ll see my theme for the entire year has been “Freedom.” As Fourth of July independence celebrations take place around the country, I’d like to present another kind of independence for your consideration—another kind of freedom.

The freedom that comes when we realize it’s okay to say, “No.” That it’s okay to say, “Enough is Enough.” The freedom that comes when we set healthy boundaries—in all of our relationships.

I’m the author of a book that focuses on freedom from enabling our adult children. If you’ve read my book, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out I have boundary issues. Many of us do. I could be wrong, but I think the issue of unclear boundaries is more prevalent in the lives of women. After all, we are the mommies, the nurturers, and the multi-taskers. We are the I-can-do-it-all gender who are slowly killing ourselves trying to do-it-all.

This insidious death march is especially true for Christian women. Because we’ve bought in to the lies of Satan that in order to be a “Good Christian Woman,” we must always be ready, willing and able to say, “Yes.” No matter how painful it may be. That we must always be quick to love, honor, obey, serve, and forgive. No matter how broken our heart. That we must always put others first and ignore our own feelings. No matter how wrong, misguided, or dangerous those others may be. That in order to be a “Good Christian Woman,” the health and welfare of others is far more important than the health and welfare of our own heart, soul, body and mind.

If those lies aren’t enough to send us on a path to destruction, the ultimate lie of Satan is that when we exhibit this totally selfless focus, and remove every boundary of protection from our life, only then will we please God and demonstrate what it means to be a good and faithful servant.

Excuse me?

Unless I have a Bible that no one else has, I have yet to read Scripture that tells me to be a doormat. That instructs me to be an emotional repository for everyone else’s problems. Can someone please point out the Scripture that encourages me to allow my heart, soul, mind, and body to get so beaten up and damaged that I don’t know which end is up in order to show the world what a “Good Christian Woman” I am? Can anyone point out the Scripture that tells me I am a horrible person destined to go to Hell because I take a stand to guard—to protect, my heart?

This month we celebrate the independence of our country. Let us also make it a month to celebrate the independence of a heart that has found freedom from the bondage that comes when we don’t have healthy boundaries in place.

It doesn’t matter whether you are involved in a painful relationship with your spouse, your adult child, a family member or friend, a boss or a co-worker. If you or someone you know is going through a rough time where violated boundaries may be the issue, please hear me now.

Freedom from pain comes with a price. Sometimes, in order to make things right, we must first say, “No.” We must have faith that God will still love us when we say, “Enough is Enough.” Moreover, we must be willing to walk the difficult journey to freedom as we establish healthy boundaries and pick up the pieces of wrong choices we have made. We must trust that God will make a way where there seems to be no way.

It’s not about all the things we do. It’s not about all the selfless acts of service we extend to others. It’s not about always saying, “Yes.” It’s a downright lie that the more we do the more God will like us. The truth is written in John 3:16:

God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life.

We have freedom in the blood of Jesus Christ. He cannot love us more, no matter what we do. He’s already loved us unto death.

Available now from Harvest House Publishers
Setting Boundaries with Your Adult Children
Six Steps to Hope and Healing for Struggling Parents
by Allison Bottke
For more information visit: www.SanitySupport.com

I’ve been so encouraged and inspired by readers and fellow bloggers regarding how they’ve taken bits and pieces from my Reluctant Entertainer theme, and have put those ideas into place in their own lives!  People are experiencing freedom in learning how to serve others in love, focusing on people, many times centered around food!

One recent story went like this:

I just wanted to let you know how inspiring and encouraging your blog is, and to send kudos to you. From seeing all of your great get-togethers with friends, I felt encouraged to invite a couple of my dearest friends over for an afternoon to celebrate their birthdays. I bought them each a planter and a variety of flowers and luckily it was a beautiful day, so we planted flowers and talked and enjoyed our time together. Somehow, completely unplanned, our conversation turned to God and I shared with them a story that had happened to me during my pregnancy with the twins that cemented my belief in God, and that He is present in our lives. Even though I don’t attend church, my faith and love for God is firmly in place.

I’m amazed at how God works through friendships, love, and food!  My friend provided a pleasant and relaxed environment, and like many of my entertaining experiences in my home, they ended up talking about God, our creator and giver of life!  Though simple at first glance, I would call these times “substantial.”

As my friend opened her home to an easy time together with friends, I can’t help but think of how Jesus commended people for doing simple things.  He showed that the common or simple things in life could sometimes be the most important.

This past summer, I invited my girl cousins to my home for a luncheon. I kept things very simple, as time was short (a few came on their lunch hours!).  I made a large green salad, and a few other cousins brought various salads. I set the table, pulled out cloth napkins, and I served water for the beverage.  How simple is that?  Looking back on that special day and this wonderful group of ladies (many of my cousins are new grandmas!), the day turned out to be a gift from God. Little did we know that just three short months later, one of us would be diagnosed with brain cancer–overnight–and taken from us shortly thereafter.

What if we hadn’t had this time together?  What if I hadn’t run with my luncheon idea?  What if I hadn’t taken that prompting in my heart and made something happen, by going the extra mile and making an effort to set the date, contact the cousins, and to work around one cousin’s schedule who lives out of town?  It never would have happened.

I think of times where I’ve tried something different–having the ladies in my neighborhood (who I didn’t know) over for a salad potluck, hosted families on the spur of the moment, taken children overnight to help their parents, entertained when my house wasn’t clean, and even made room at the table for unexpected guests. In every situation, I was glad we invited those others in, even if it may have inconvenienced us a little at the time.

Reluctant entertainers around the country are learning that if they’ll just set aside their reluctance, their very simple efforts will make some great things happen.

Have a crazy idea for reaching out to others?  Run with your ideas or promptings! If you are inspired to dare to do something different – DO IT!

I’m glad I did, as I’m sure my friend Sarah, who had a day of flower-planting with her friends, did too.

If you’ve been reading—and living—Live Well! for a while, you have already done some soul searching to discover the changes that you’d like to make. You may have sat down to develop a plan, invited God along for the journey, and taken steps to live out that plan in your life. Good. Hopefully you’ve discovered success along the way and are determined to keep on running. That’s a great place to be. Now we’re ready to take a look at the future. Living well is not merely a lifestyle; it’s the means of getting to the destination we so desire—freedom. Imagine being able to enjoy three bites of a brownie without the desire for more.  Picture yourself choosing a salad over pizza for lunch, because it’s just what you are hungering for. Envision yourself being the comfortable size you’ve always dreamed you could be. God has designed a life for each of us, which includes the hope of our freedom, it’s waiting for you, and it’s not that far from your grasp.

The Spirit of the Sovereign LORD is on me, because the LORD has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor and the day of vengeance of our God, to comfort all who mourn. Isaiah 61:1-2 NIV

Freedom. Did you read that?! What a glorious hope for those who are living in bondage to food, or women who are trapped in a body that they feel is not theirs.

Free·dom: The power to exercise choice and make decisions without constraint from within or without. (www.dictionary.com)

That is His hope for you—freedom to choose. Isn’t that what His plan was for us all along? His hope for you is not that you remain in bondage to the desires of this world, but that you move out from the darkness of your bondage and into the light of His freedom—that includes your freedom from the bondage of food.

How do we know that once we reach that place of freedom we won’t wake up and find ourselves in the exact same chip-craving, food-stuffing, guilt-ridden place that we started in? Because this time we’re doing it God’s way—relying on His strength to set us free:

So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. John 8:36, NIV

But that’s talking about sin, how can that relate to our struggle with food? Isn’t it different? Well, let’s answer it this way–what is sin? The technical definition is in the translation of the Greek word: hamartia, which is “missing the mark.” And why do we miss it? We transgress the commandments of God in lieu of our pleasure—the Spirit at war with the flesh.

But I need something more! For if I know the law but still can’t keep it, and if the power of sin within me keeps sabotaging my best intentions, I obviously need help! I realize that I don’t have what it takes. I can will it, but I can’t do it. I decide to do good, but I don’t really do it; I decide not to do bad, but then I do it anyway. My decisions, such as they are, don’t result in actions. Something has gone wrong deep within me and gets the better of me every time. Romans 7:17-20, The Message

Sound familiar? Reminds me of the guilt sessions I’ve often hosted in my brain just before nodding off to sleep with a full gut. Let’s face it–we’re not alone in our struggle with food. Countless women struggle with the same pull to the fridge as we do, desperately hoping to find a way out.

The sad fact is that many women live their entire lives in bondage, never discovering the keys to unlocking the door. We can. The Word of God contains every key that we need to unlock our freedom and live a victorious life. A few months back we talked about freedom and the importance of getting there, but this month we’re going to uncover eight of the keys that will carry us through:

1. Stop idolizing food:
   “For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:21, NIV)

   That’s put simply enough. If we’re thinking of food from sun up to sun down, we need a little renovation of the brain. We need to shift our focus to healthier thoughts, or as my kids would say, “Get a life.” Realize food for what it is: fuel. It’s really little more than that.

1. Start idolizing God:
   “Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is now hidden with Christ in God.” (Colossians 3:1-3)

   There you go! Start that renovation off by setting your focus on heavenly things. Open the Bible, grab a pen, discover God, and once you do–I guarantee that you’ll idolize Him.

2. Resist the devil:
   “Submit yourselves, then, to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.” (James 4:7, NIV)

   Realize that the longing for the things of this world are not Spirit-led thoughts. If they were, they wouldn’t be met with guilt time and again. The Spirit does not fuel an unhealthy desire for food; sin does. Resist the unhealthy thoughts by discerning and rejecting those that are bad.

1. Find an accountability partner or group: “Therefore confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed. The prayer of a righteous man is powerful and effective.” (James 5:16, NIV)Accountability partners offer support, wisdom, and a nudge when we slip off the path. Find a group or an individual that will spur you on.

1. Exercise choice:
   “In the same way, count yourselves dead to sin but alive to God in Christ Jesus. Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its evil desires. Do not offer the parts of your body to sin, as instruments of wickedness, but rather offer yourselves to God, as those who have been brought from death to life; and offer the parts of your body to him as instruments of righteousness.” (Romans 6:11-13, NIV)

   If we want great looking legs, we need to exercise them, right? The same goes for choice. The more we give up our ability to choose, the more it loses strength. Giving in to every whim weakens us over time. Start saying “No” to your desires more often, and you’ll build up stamina. As my friend May says, “If you want to wear different sized pair of pants, you have to live differently.”

1. Walk in the Spirit:
   “So I say, live by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the sinful nature.” (Galatians 5:16, NIV)

   Because the Spirit has no desire for the things of the earth, it naturally makes sense that a Spirit-led person would lean the same way. Grow in the Spirit by living in communion with God.

2. Rule your thought life:
   “The weapons we fight with are not the weapons of the world. On the contrary, they have divine power to demolish strongholds. We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.” (2 Corinthians 10:4-5, NIV)

   Feed good thoughts and let the other ones starve. It may take deliberate steps at first, but in time it gets easier. Much like training a child, with repetition and persistence we can train our thoughts too.

3. Draw from His strength:
   “Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God..” (Hebrews 12:1-2, NIV)

   Remember that this journey is different from all the others that you may have run before. You’re not running alone this time–you are running with Jesus. He is the one who will pick you up when you fall, cheer you on as you run, and comfort you if the going gets tough. He will lead you through weight-loss to freedom, and you shall be free indeed!

©2008, Darlene Schacht

*We advise that you always consult your doctor before starting any diet or exercise program.

Larry’s been out making friends again.

“Hi … this is Eric. I’m a jogger on the Centennial Trail, and I saw this big black dog lying in the crosswalk when I made my first pass going north. Half hour or so later I turned around and headed back and, well, he’s still here. Friendly guy. Very gentle. Looks like maybe he’s waiting for someone. He talks to everyone who runs past. He’s just … lying there, all stretched out across the trail. Makes you run around him. Thought maybe he was lost, so I checked his collar and got your number. So now you know.”

Yes, now we know. Actually, Eric is the second caller this week. It seems Larry has elected himself “crosswalk guard” over our section of the trail. I suppose from a distance he looks pretty menacing. I mean, he’s 120 lbs of lab/chow and has a head that looks like you could crack walnuts on top of it. But when you get close enough to peer into those eyes, you can tell right off a buddy lives inside. Larry’s not going to hurt anyone. He might lick you to death, but that’s the only real danger.

We’re stymied as to how to keep him on our property. It’s hard to fence 13 acres, particularly when most of that is through dense woods. We don’t want to keep him kenneled, because what’s the point of having 13 acres and a dog if the two can’t enjoy one another? I couldn’t imagine keeping him confined all the time. So we try to watch as best as we can.

When he’s not sitting on the front porch or sniffing the ducks or trying to lure the goats over the pasture fence, we know he’s down on the Centennial Trail. I’ve gone after him a time or two. I’ll walk down to the edge of our driveway, scan left, scan right, see a black blip, and set to hollering. “Larry! You go on home!” He’s wily, that dog. He won’t come right to me. Instead, he slinks off into the woods and tries to beat me back to the house. Sometimes he wins. And then I’m greeted with that innocent “What?” expression, as if he’d been sitting on the porch all along and I must be losing my mind.

Mid-afternoon forays are one thing, but nighttime disappearances really cause my heart to thump. And those only happen around New Year’s and the 4th of July. Larry has no tolerance whatsoever for fireworks. At the first hint of a Whistling Pete, Larry’s head shoots up, his ears stand to attention, and he looks for a place to hide. That’s fine if he’s in the house with us. But if he’s outside, he takes off.

We first realized he had this tendency a year and a half ago on New Year’s Eve. Larry had wanted to go out, and I thought nothing of letting him. About an hour later,he wanted back in. He was breathing hard and slobbered all over himself and our saltillo tiles as he trotted to his green mat. Once there, he collapsed in a tuckered-out heap. Not long after, I noticed the message light blinking on our phone. “Yeah, this is Mike over on 85th,” I heard. In the background, loud music blared and the din of many voices filled my ear. “We’ve got Larry over here enjoying the festivities with us. We’ll let him hang for awhile and then see what happens.” While we’d been sitting quietly at the kitchen table eating shrimp and playing cards with our friends, Chris and Cora, our dog had partied with strangers.

We’ve tried to keep a good eye on him since then, but he managed to disappear at dusk a few nights before the 4th this year. Dave walked the woods behind our house and I drove the car around the neighborhood, calling his name. We went to bed not knowing where he was. I got up every twenty minutes or so, hoping he’d returned. I’d glance left, first, to the patio door, then right to the front door. I so hoped one of those glances would yield a view of a big, black lump of fur, but by midnight, he still hadn’t come home. He took his time that night. Didn’t make it back until 3:15. We heard him leap onto the front porch, and that was enough to wake us from a dead sleep. It’s hard for 120 lbs to leap and land quietly, and for that, I’m glad.

Two nights ago, just as I drifted off to sleep, I heard some thoughtless yahoo on the other side of the woods starting up again. It wasn’t just one firework, but several, and though I didn’t know it right that minute, the guy would shoot them off for the next hour.

In two seconds I was out of bed and standing on the front porch, looking for Larry. In the time it took for my voice to drift through the night and my eyes to adjust to the darkness, I saw his form halted in mid-flight on his way to the woods. He turned at the sound of his name, spun, and bolted back to the house. He didn’t even wait for an invitation inside–he just flew past me, a black blur of anxiety.

“Where do you think you were running off to?” I asked him, scratching between his ears. He twisted his head and that snaky tongue of his whipped out and slathered my hand. I kept talking. “Don’t you get it, you silly pup? We’re your safe place. When you’re scared, don’t run off. Run home.”

The words were still hanging in the air when I heard a whisper. “Remember that,” He said.

Find rest, O my soul, in God alone; my hope comes from him. He alone is my rock and my salvation; he is my fortress, I will not be shaken. My salvation and my honor depend on God; he is my mighty rock, my refuge. Trust in him at all times, O people; pour out your hearts to him, for God is our refuge.
Psalm 62:5-8, NIV

©2008, Shannon Woodward

This month I received an email with a question that on the surface may seem easy to answer, but in reality can be a hotbed of controversy.  The answers could easily fill an entire book but obviously we don’t have that kind of space.  For that reason, we will address some foundational principles on this topic and perhaps delve into it more in future articles.  Here is what Patty asked:

“Besides your husband, has God given you a best friend to share your ups and downs with?”

In short, I will say yes; however, it is a plural yes. Let me explain.

There is a quote I read a few months back by Jim Rohn that says, “You are the average of the five people you spend the most time with.”  I have no idea who this man is or what his motivation was for his comment, but I think we can apply this concept spiritually.

How you ask? Picture yourself among five other women. If you are the average, then some are ahead of you in some respect, some are beside, and some are behind.  Here is how I interpret this imagery in regard to balancing my personal friendships:

1. Have friends you need.
   I have a lot of different friends whom I consider my BFF’s and all of them for different reasons.  The women who are my pour-my-heart-out-with-no-fear-of-judgement friends are ironically ones I talk to infrequently in comparison to my other buddies.  A couple of these are women I consider my spiritual mothers.  I can be vulnerable with them because they don’t expect me to have the answers and are truly invested in wanting to see God’s best in me.  I crave their input in my life because I trust their motivations where I am concerned.

   Can these women be found in your church pews?  I will hesitantly say yes if you use the model of a Titus Two relationship. I have benefited so much from the senior women in our congregations who have reached out with their wisdom in mothering and my walk with God. There are precautions to be taken in this area as well as the other two I will mention that we will address in just a moment.

   How does one find a mentor?  In my experience they will sometimes find you.  The two women I count on most in my life pointed out a gift they saw in me and spent some time helping me find ways to use it. However, there is another whose ministry and walk with the Lord was one I admired so I made the first step in asking for counsel.

1. Have friends who don’t need you.
   Luke and I were talking just the other day about some friends of ours who make us laugh our heads off.  They are always our comic relief when we are stressed to the hilt.  I’m not saying they don’t need us as friends.  Obviously, we love and pray for one another.  But they are completely and spiritually healthy and when we are with them, we can be free to talk about something besides church.  You may think that is a horrible statement to make, but you will serve God and your families well by giving yourself a mental break from time to time.  Funny friends are a great way to do that.

1. Have friends who DO need you.
   Now we are back full circle to where we began.  I believe it is essential that we pour ourselves into less spiritually mature women of any age.  No doubt you can think of one woman whom you’ve recognized a spiritual gift and is not using it to its potential.  Has it occurred to you that she doesn’t know she has it?  Tell her! The only reason I am teaching, speaking, and writing today is because fourteen years ago someone told me they thought I’d be good at it and created the opportunity for me to try.  A fire was lit that still burns today.

I have found that if I have an unequal balance in any of these areas, friendships can become a source of stress instead of joy.  If I have too many mentors, I find myself becoming needy and feeling I don’t measure up.  If I have too many people who don’t need me, my zeal for relational ministry can diminish.  If I have too many people craving spiritual counsel, I feel sucked dry.  Your group of friends will shift over time but ideally, that is a great thing.  A changing circle of girlfriends will show your congregation you are open to new relationships and give no cause to anyone accusing you of fostering cliques.

I think it is important to establish a Friend Philosophy to guide your own church relationships. You will find all these categories of women in your congregations and it is my strong belief you should seek to open your heart to the women whom you are serving.  As a layperson reading this article, there are ways you can encourage your ministers’ wives and help them to feel loved.  With that said, here are a few considerations for all of us:

• NEVER discuss delicate church matters with a church member.  I’ve made it my own rule to never be the person who discloses new information about a person or situation in the church unless I am asked specifically to share it via prayer request, etc.  If in doubt, keep your mouth closed!   Layperson:  Be considerate of your ministers’ wives and don’t ask them questions you know they shouldn’t be at liberty to answer.

• ALWAYS leave room in your life for a new friend.  Women in our church pews need to know they are loved and accepted.  You have no idea the impact of the ministry wife’s inclusion can mean to a woman whose been struggling to belong.  Layperson:  Do you feel shunned by your minister and/or his family?  Try taking the first step and inviting them over to dinner or out for an icecream.  Sometimes they don’t come because you don’t ask.

• Never air marital dirty laundry.  It can be so tempting to tell a girlfriend about our latest argument with our man or how he never helps with the kids, etc., etc. but your church members, no matter how great of friends, are not the people who need to hear that.  You can overlook his imperfections – your friend can use them to justify a subversive attitude by looking at him as your loser husband instead of the leader of her church. Layperson: Remember your pastor has flaws and is no more perfect than your own hubby.  Give him permission to be human.  

• ALWAYS have one safe friend who has nothing to do with your church.

I have a lifelong girlfriend that I can call night or day and tell her any crazy thing going on in our church or with our family. She doesn’t know anyone I’m talking about.  She won’t judge.  She’ll tell me if I am wrong.  The blog community is also an excellent source of safe friendships where we can be more detailed in asking for prayer, advice, etc. when church gets stressful. Layperson:  Don’t begrudge your ministry wife for having a close friend.  Hopefully, she’s trying to do the friend thing well and is open to having you as part of her life.

I hope these pointers will help as you seek to befriend the women in your congregations. Thanks, Patty, for a great question!  Have a question of your own?  Email me! (thepreacherswife1@gmail.com)

Want to see more discussion on the subject?
Visit The BFF Survey at my blog, The Preacher’s Wife!

I don’t mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection.  But I press on to possess that perfection for which Christ Jesus first possessed me.  Philippians 3:12 NLT

I had been tearing pictures from design magazines for years, and had quite a portfolio of ideas collected in anticipation of building my dream home. There were lovely images of warm, elegant bedrooms, functional, inviting kitchens, efficient, well designed offices and fun-filled family rooms. I even had a bag of stones in the colors I love: red, green, yellow, brown, gold, and copper.

We purchased our home two and a half years ago. I still remember the mixed emotions I had the first time I drove up to, parked my car and gazed at the possibilities. I had no trouble seeing beyond the dreary color of paint and the pitiful shrubbery. When I stepped through the front doors, the immediate potential of the structure was staggering. Without question, the task was monumental- far bigger than I had imagined.  In truth, I felt overwhelmed at the magnitude of the job I had chosen to undertake.  Where to begin?

The bathrooms and kitchen were full of outdated cabinetry, and, were finished with a white, shiny-type coating that didn’t match my decorating plans. The tubs and showers were leaking; the kitchen looked like aliens had designed the cooking area, and the carpeting showed years of cigar-induced burns and other unpleasant mishaps. Some of the doors were warped and in need of replacing, the stairwell carpeting was unraveling in places to the point that you could see the bare, unfinished wood beneath.

The entire house, floor to ceiling was beige—not a speck of color anywhere—and I’m a girl who loves color. The plastic chandeliers had that 80’s disco feel—very groovy. All I needed to complete the scene was a mirrored disco ball hanging from the ceiling in my living room and Andy Gibb piped in on the stereo.

I enjoy a challenge, but I was beginning to think that I had bitten off more than I could chew. The look of absolute delight on the contractor’s face as he took a gander told me the rest of the story—this was going to be expensive. Cha-ching.

With every change we made, a new problem surfaced.  Sometimes it was a plumbing issue, sometimes an electrical glitch…but it didn’t take long to realize we were in over our heads, financially and emotionally.  We wanted this house, but could we afford it? Renovations that we thought would take us four months, ended up taking nearly a year and costing us three times our original budget.

In spite of the fact that the whole project was beyond exhausting, the glad day arrived when we packed up our belongings from the cramped little condo we’d been living in for months, grabbed the dog and cat, and made the exciting trip to our newly renovated dream home.

We were amazed at the finished product. It was all I had ever hoped for and more. Down to the last detail of the artistic touches on the kitchen cabinets and the faux paint on the entry pillars; everything was just as I had imagined, only better.

Jordan’s room is painted with wall murals of trees, grass and lions, and offers the illusion of stepping into a jungle. Meagan’s room is finished in European flair with embellished touches of gold and orange.  The living room has angels painted on the entryway ceiling, an inviting welcome to any guests who enter our home.

As I stood looking at the vast transformation, remembering what the house looked like originally, I marvelled at the majesty of its conversion, and I began to think about our journey with God.

When first we ask Jesus to be the Lord of our lives, He must see the monumental task of all that needs to happen. And yet, we are His dream home, the place where His Sprit desires to abide.

Jesus moves through the rooms of our hearts, one by one, with careful examination. When He’s taken a full inventory, He begins cleaning out the unnecessary burden of false expectation, erroneous beliefs and human imperfections. He sweeps all of our mistakes into a heap and washes them away by the power of His Word. He never remembers those errors in judgment again. He heals the wounds of our hearts and strips all the old wallpaper and paint from our fractured souls.  And only when He’s completed the cleansing of the old, does He begin the development of the new. Jesus knows our potential. He is patient as He changes us bit by bit, knowing it is a life-long journey.

I renovated my dream home in months. Jesus transforms us over a lifetime. He’s in no hurry, because He’s interested in our journey and already sees the finished product before we take even the first step.

Budgets and cost over-runs are no issue for our Savior.  Jesus pre-paid it all. He had the perfect plan for the price of our spiritual renovations. He gave His life, the flawless, sinless sacrifice for all our mistakes. Our reconstruction cost Him everything and He gladly gave it, so that we may become that complete and finished creation He knew we would one day be.

I can agree with the great Apostle Paul as he said, “I don’t mean to say that I have already achieved these things or that I have already reached perfection. But I press on to possess that perfection for which Christ Jesus first possessed me.”

I now understand that the perfection is in the journey.  How grateful I am that the Lord has a vision for me—one He’s painstakingly pursued from the day I invited Him into the rooms of my heart, and will continue to pursue until He’s finished the good work He began in me. I’m glad Jesus doesn’t get exhausted or frustrated with the process, then throw up his hands and quit!  Because of His patient endurance, I’m on my way to becoming His dream house; the perfect work of His hands that continually shapes me into the glorious image of Christ.

©2008, Tamra Nashman