The annual roundup

Big stuff going on and not a lot of time to do much else with the kids being as sick as they are, but I've been given a quiet fifteen minutes and I'm going to use it to do the annual roundup.

2007


Best memory:

Being packed like psychotically happy and excited sardines in the back of our car at 3 am in the cold of winter, headlights on, window down, listening to Wayne's dad, a retired army First Sgt, drill us: "Got your cell phones? (nod) Got your wallets? (nod) Got your medicine? (nod)," and then gesturing wildly with his hand as he pointed to the distant horizon with the bravest look I've ever seen anyone put on: "Then ROLL OUT!" and off we headed across the US and into the unknown in Cali.
(sorry, Ishod's birth didn't make the cut... but you'll hear about it in a sec)


Worst memory:

The feel of my water breaking as I plopped down on the bed, exhausted, after thirteen days of six - twelve contractions. I looked at Wayne and giggled. "Gross!" "What?" "I think I just peed on myself."

Or maybe standing next to my kids, tubes all over, as we helplessly watched the nurses give them treatments in the hospital. I don't know. It all sucked.

Funniest moment:

When God called us BACK to North Carolina. Simultaneously.

Most Surprising thing:

The ease of Ishod's transition into the world after all the hard stuff we went through. Pushing him out was amazing...and I really enjoyed it, believe it or not.

Song of the Year:
Immanuel--- our God is with us--- Prince of Peace-- Mighty One--- the EVER living God.

Movie of the Year:
300!!!!!! Are you kidding?

Website of the Year:
duh. Ravelry.

Most awesome FOs:
My socks!!! And mom's wrap, which I have yet to send.

Most ridiculous WIP:
Annika's never ending legwarmers, and the nursing wrap, which I will never use even when finished, since I don't cover up anymore when I nurse.

Best forum debate:
Lo and behold, this year is not about the R&P but RAvelry's Pinny POrn thread. What a humungous undertaking and a very interesting thread.

Most incredible Kingdom Advances
Wow. Let's see. A certain family we know and love leaving the LDS church was big! Losing and gaining ground in Israel. God's people getting called to start suffering corporately. (doesn't sound like an advance, but it is!) and the Narnia/Compass craziness. The Return of the daughters (corporately) and a significant return to biblical womanhood and manhood by seekers in the church.


Biggest Disappointment:

California by a landslide. Couldn't figure out what was going on. Couldn't believe how lame Cali was from an outsider's eyes.

Biggest Adventure:

California by a landslide. We drove across the country in the craziest circumstances....wow. We saw a ton of things.

Looking forward:

2008 will be a year of renewal. We will have our vision restored, our hearts turned towards God afresh, and a new annointing to complete the tasks He puts before us.

*holds up champagne glass*
Happy New Year, every one.

Hospital stays and amazing days

Bring on the new year! Ishod and I are home from the hospital, finally. A couple days before Christmas he started showing signs of a worsening cold... which he has had since he was two weeks. To make a long story short, he was diagnosed with Bronchiolitis caused by RSV (the scary baby-killing virus!) and a few hours later admitted to the hospital when he couldn't breathe. Oxygen wasn't getting to his lungs and he had hypotoxemia (I think that's what it's called, he couldn't stop sleeping) because his little body shut down from the lack of oxygen. It was horrible. His respiration and oxygen levels were crazy--- his oxygen was supposed to be around 95-100 and it would go all the way down to 3! His little heart beat would slow waaaaaaaay down then because he was shutting down.
They let me stay in the hospital with him because I was nursing him... I spent the entire time pacing the room and praying while the nurses did their thing. I made them teach me how to do things like put on his oxygen tubing and read the moniters, etc, because it made me feel useful. The church was closed and all my friends were out of town, so there I was. Wayne took care of Annika as best he could at home while me and Ishod tried to make every breath count.
There's something about seeing your child lying there with tubes all over that really stops you. I know from my experience last month with Annika and now with him---- breathing is a good thing.

Anyways, I was pretty devastated until the Lord spoke clearly to me: I named him Ishod, He told me. It means MAN of renown. Not BABY of renown. This will not take his life. I was soooo comforted by that word and I clung to it. Over the entire next day I prayed that his oxygen levels would stay up because brain damage is a concern when oxygen isn't getting in. Finally I snapped and called some friends for prayer (see how I hate to ask for anything? :P) and they blew me away.
Some of the girls from the new mommy group made the rounds and gathered up disposable diapers for Wayne to use on Annika (Cloth is hard for newbs!) and some frozen dinner trays for them. They made me a big basket with all kinds of sweet things in it. I was sooo blessed.
Within several hours his vitals stabilized and all seemed to be returning to relatively normal.
Anyways, they released Ishod last night and we've been home since, but we are not out of hot water yet. We are quarantined, so anyone who comes in has to wear a large teeshirt and a mask, wash their hands on the way in (for not infecting Ishod) and then on the way out, taking the shirt, putting it in a plastic bag, and washing it in hot water to avoid contaminating anyone else. Needless to say, we aren't having visitors for a few weeks. And we can't go anywhere. Annika has it too, now, but her lungs are far stronger than his. We are checking him by shifts to make sure his breathing stays below 50/minute again, and

She has to be admitted to the hospital on Friday for a Barium Enema... they want to see what's up with her colon so they're doing some tests. It seems overwhelming to think about how much my kids are going through right now, but I am totally encouraged.
God gave me so many opportunities to minister to people in the hospital... and I was able to pray for some very amazing sick children. I had NO idea that I would do well in this type of environment, it's very wierd. In fact, I was so moved by how powerfully God was using me that I took to heart what a couple of the nurses said to me about how I should be a nurse because encouragement was a natural part of who I am. I have been talking with Wayne about going to night school to get a nursing degree, which is something I could use to help us make ends meet and a job I think I could really connect with, considering how familiar I am becoming with the hospital environment and what a powerful witness you can be to the hurt and afraid in their hospital beds. He thinks it's a great idea so a couple years from now, I may be Nurse Barbie, hehe. Most of the girls who were assigned to us had young children at home, they worked a couple shifts a week and they loved what they did. I interviewed all of them about job satisfaction, etc.... (I'm still a journalist at heart) and they all seemed to really like it. I'm continuing to explore my options, because I'd really like to do school online but it seems like you can only do a BS online, and not an associates, which is what you need to become an RN.

Anyways, it's a thought.

Praise God that tonight is peaceful and my kids are quiet.... I would love it if you guys joined me in praying for their healing and wholeness! Who knew being a mom could be so painful and just how much I was going to love these incredible children who have been entrusted to me??? It's just amazing.

Anyways, probably wont be online for a while. Everyone have a good first! I'll do the roundup when the kids feel better.

Choosing to be child free

In yet another awesome ravelry conversation, we are debating the pros and cons of a group of women who choose to be childfree, for reasons which I would deem selfish (ie, not being "ready" for a kid, not liking kids, not wanting to stop hobbies or passtimes they enjoy, etc, etc.)
Their mission statement essentially states that they are designed to support all women (whether lesbian, straight, or bisexual) who choose to remain child free for any number of reasons.

Their website has a quotes page I found fascinating, which contains snippets of "wisdom" from people like Virginia Woolf, who didn't like or want kids, and whose advice, as I pointed out in the thread, is really excellent when you consider that she stuffed a giant rock in her apron and walked into a lake for all the joy she had in life.

Ironically, this came at a tender moment for me, because as you know Wayne has asked me to take Birth Control for a little while. This is really a challenge for me because I firmly believe that the Lord opens and closes the womb, that because of what He has revealed to me concerning the importance he places on children and how blessed it is to bear them, not to mention the desire of my heart to have AT LEAST four kids (really, I want 12!) But because I want to obey my husband, I will concede to taking birth control. The Lord has really spoken to me about this: "sufficient for today is it's own trouble." He has comforted me that I don't need to worry about the future, and wether I will ever have more children. For today, he says, obey your husband, and you will be obeying me and walking in my blessing.

What we were saying in the thread was this: they maintain it's their "right" to have a childfree life. And it totally is. I agree that if one is in charge of one's one life (thereby not a Christian, since if they were, their father in heaven would be in charge of their own life) then there is no reason why they should change their thinking. On the other hand ,I stumbled across a few "Christians" on their webring, and I have to say I was tempted to send them emails sending them a few scriptures which may challenge the way they are looking at children.

The other benefit to this philosophy is that if, like me, you believe the dominion mandate, it serves the Christian purpose. These people wont be training future generations to think like they do, which is fine by me. And our children will be populating the earth in droves. yay.

Anyhoo, while poking around in there, I came across a site which is pretty appalling. I'm going to reproduce the text in here to save you the flipping.

Open Letter To A Breeder

Re: Your Brats In Restaurants

Dear Herd Animal:

I realize that you've had a tough day of dumping your ugly little fucktrophies off at Miss Lurleen's Daycare and/or Nimrod's Academy of Country Line-Dancing. And as if your day weren't tough enough already, poor dear, you had to go pick up those same toxic brats in your gas-gobbling SUV and endure the intellectual rigors of screaming at them in the aisles of Wal-Mart. Then it was time to dump the kids back off at Grandma's.

As a mother, life is so hard for you. Yes, it's tough to raise today's children, given all the effort it requires to plop them down in front of the VCR for 6 hours at a stretch and subsequently dump them off on other people's doorsteps. And since you've worked so hard today (you actually had to spend five minutes watching your own children), you've decided that you want to treat yourself to a nice meal tonight.

But wait—your plans are almost ruined for a moment. Grandma isn't home! How DARE that bitch attempt to have a life of her own? Doesn't she know that her only function in the universe is to watch your annoying little snot-drippers? Well, that just means one thing. You'll have to load up your ill-behaved, drooling, nasty little runts and drag them to the restaurant with you.

Life is so unfair.

Of course, it's a hell of a lot more unfair for the other restaurant patrons who are praying that you (and all other breeders) will just keep your sorry ass at home for a change. But no, you're hell-bent on dragging your unwashed, germ-infested kids out in public. And what you really feel like eating tonight is Chinese food, down at the joint where they make a garlic chicken dish so hot that it's like ingesting a blazing bucket of napalm.

What? Your kids can't eat hotter-than-hell Szechwan cuisine?

"Tough shit", you mutter, almost wearing out your monosyllabic vocabulary. Because in typical breeder fashion, your children don't really matter one little bit. It's all about YOU and your convenience. You want Chinese food, so you don't give a crap whose evening you wreck with your screeching brats—or whether or not your children will even be able to eat the food served to them.

Look around the restaurant the next time you walk in with your kids. Maybe then you'll finally notice the collective eye-rolling and quiet groans of all the other customers who take one look at your wretched little brats and wish to hell that you'd explode.

Of course, the restaurant servers won't be doing that. No, they're paid to pretend that they like your stinking little runts. They'll pretend to roll out the red carpet, and will simply wait until your back is turned to spit in your food. Ask any restaurant server who the absolute worst customers are, the answer will generally be a tie between the Sunday after-church crowd and "people with children". Breeders are rude as hell, condescending, demanding, and on top of it all, they're piss-poor tippers. Which makes you a blast to wait on, eh?

Meanwhile, it will take your kids, those darling little rocket scientists, a moment to figure out that they haven't seen a picture of Ronald McDonald yet. Horrors...they're not in a hamburger joint! Whatever will they do?

They'll throw a thousand-decibel tantrum, that's what.

Don't you know it's dangerous to surprise your children like that? After all, today's children don't recognize food objects unless they're either nestled between a sesame-seed bun, or come in a Lunchables package. This will overload their circuitry. What do you MEAN, no French fries? No ketchup? Then it's not food. In their stark confusion, the dull-witted little shits will probably try to eat the upholstery, instead.

The garlic shrimp dish you ordered is chock-full of hot peppers. In fact, it's hot enough to melt the Polar ice cap. The kids don't like it, can't eat it, don't want it. Even at their tender years, they feel ripped off, and who can blame them? As dumb as they are, they recognize something that you apparently don't--that this place is not appropriate for them. They're bored out of their skulls and they don't like the food.

But despite the fact that you've blathered on all day about how important a job mothering is, don't even pretend that you give two shits about those kids. It's about YOU. You wanted to eat Chinese food, and by Jove, you'll do just that--regardless of who it irritates.

And believe me, it's irritating the living hell out of everyone.

Your kids are out of control. They're screaming, whining and scrambling around like demon-possessed weasels. But what do you care? You got what you wanted. And after all, you’re oblivious to the hideous racket that your kids generate, because you never bother trying to stop it at home, either. No, you just let it roll on like the soundtrack to the world's worst horror film, while the rest of the customers secretly fantasize about disemboweling you.

Everyone's having a perfectly horrible time now, thanks to your usual glaring lack of concern. Except you, naturally. You're having a great time, which is all that matters to you, you selfish pile of shit.

The other customers have had their entire evening wrecked because of your complete disregard for others. Your kids are not only miserable, but hungry. But who cares? You got your way. So now, after a fine evening of tormenting the wait staff, infuriating the other diners and failing to feed your own children, it's time to dump the little bastards back off at Grandma's.

Listen, Breeder:

Do us all a favor next time. The next time you want to eat out, leave the brats at home (or somewhere--like maybe in the middle of the freeway). Nobody wants to see your kids but you (and given your level of parenting skills, even that's debatable).

Nobody likes to spend the time and money to have a quiet, civilized evening out, only to have it rudely interrupted by some trashy breeder. If it hasn't dawned on you yet, people are trying to eat here. It's pretty hard to choke down a plate of food when you've got some screeching, hideously ugly runt staring at you like a bug-eyed monster.

Oh, I know you probably think that all that dried, caked-on dirt on your kid's face is appetizing. You think that the stench of baby shit and that gelatinous green ooze of dripping snot are acceptable precursors to fine dining. That's because you have all the socialization of a hunk of dog shit. Back in Gruntville, where you grew up, it was probably normal for every female over the age of 12 to pop out a litter of runts. So while you were busy growing up as a doddering country bumpkin and seeing kids being dragged around everywhere, you couldn't have had any way of realizing that out in the civilized world, people don't DO that.

For future reference, I'm going to let you in on a little secret.

It's called a BABYSITTER.

Oh, you can't afford that?

Too damn bad. Guess you can't afford to have kids, either.

Bottom line: keep your goddamn brats at home until they can sit still, shut their mouths, and act like ladies and gentlemen in public. Of course, with your child-rearing skills, that probably won't happen until they hit 30. So just stay home and feed them their 100th TV dinner of the week, and leave the rest of us alone.

Because unlike you, we actually work for a living and deserve a quiet evening out.

--Jandi Aznor


Can I just say.... wow? Parents, discipline your children that they would be a testimony to the world of the joy that Children are, and not a distraction from that fact.

The clan

Crazy day. We had a series of parental crises that prevented us from doing much the last two days, and today annika has a fever and a runny nose so we didn't want to take her to the church nursery and get everyone sick, and since we didn't want to run around chasing her through the lobby today either, we didn't go to church. We went to Wayne's dad's and did housechurch, sort of, watching the Passion of the Christ. Which was gnarly. Every time.

Anyways, this afternoon we've been researching Celtic and Norse living history stuff, we really want to get involved in this but don't know where to start. We are finding out some super cool stuff. Wayne is doing the Highland Games next year and I've got to make him a kilt, for starters, so I was researching his Clan's Tartan.

Nesbitt Tartan, ancient:



You guys would not believe how expensive these are... it was $130 for ONE YARD of this fabric. I still can't get over it. So our dreams of creating entire family outfits with the real tartan were just rapidly extinguished. However, all hope is not lost. I'm just going to keep treading through endless amounts of pages on google, looking for people in the area who might be able to help us get started.

Anyhoo. Yeah. I'm doing a LOT better on complaining lately (anyone who isn't should download and listen to Manna's sermon on complaining from last week: Go to "listen online" at the bottom of the website and then search for "extracting the precious from the vile," --12/12/07)

Seems like as soon as I stopped using my mouth to complain (which I've realized steers the whole ship) everything suddenly got worse, but I suspect that's because I'm being tested. So hopefully there is an end to that stuff. Ok, I'm off.

Some thoughts on family

I've been meditating a ton lately on what love looks like in a family. It seems I had it all wrong, because it wasn't in maintaining a perfectly clean house, etc, which makes ME feel good and feel like I'm giving to my family, but in ENJOYING them. Which is totally different.

There are a few families I know which genuinely enjoy each other, and that radiates into their lives and the lives of the people around them.

My ex boyfriend, James, was a Swedish Australian expat living in France with me when I was in Grenoble for my last year of high school. In his family, the mom was a jehova's witness, she raised the kids that way but only one of them was really "practicing" her faith, and the dad was an agnostic scientist...as different as night and day.
Anyways, they were really a fun bunch. I RELISHED spending time with them (and I was over there day in and day out) because, as a family, they had FUN together and did a ton of ridiculous activities. the girls put on plays, dances, etc. They dressed up with their mom. They threw incredible parties and just genuinely loved life. And though they loved God and were reverent, the home attitude was never doom and gloom... it was just joyful!

My friend Shep. His family USED to be pastors.... and then stopped. He had a small family but one that was totally fun to be in. I loved spending time with them and tried to as much as I could. There was love that radiated in that house--- and they also did silly things together, like have a shep family band that performed at events! I LOVED attending events with them because I knew we'd always have a laugh, and his parents seemed genuinely interested in what was going on with the kids. His family has changed since, but I believe there is a root of love with them that will never fade-- it was so evident to people like me who came from a place where simple pleasures weren't necessarily celebrated.

The Rasmussens are a local couple here at Manna. They run a missionary organization. Their daugther and her husband are people we just love. The few times we've had dinner in their home, we were IMMEDIATELY treated like family. And I enjoyed myself tremendously, experiencing what it's like to be welcomed with FAMILIAL hospitality in the homes of the brethren. Not just "hoity toity" hospitality, but genuinely welcoming you--- asking you to help chop garlic for dinner or making sure you take your shoes off when you sit on the couch.

So what do all these families have in common? Enjoyment. (notice the word "joy" in there. They genuinely cared about each other.

In my own life, I may not care about the latest knife wayne is designing or the latest Strawberry Shortcake caper Annika is crazy about.... but taking the time to celebraye these things with the ones we love is where enjoyment comes in. Its crystal clear now.

new developments, shifting gears

SO, I made a list last night while feeling sorry for myself (yes, I'm ridiculous) of ways that I can respond to the top ten things that drive me into either raging fury or total misery pretty regularly in this house. I did this because I wanted to press forward in my quest to appreciate things where they are at and not get carried away with "The Vision," because as Wayne loves to quote Jesus saying: "Sufficient for today is it's own trouble," and "why do you worry about tomorrow, what you will eat and what you will wear?" (If you really meditate on Jesus' words here, you will find that humans have it all wrong 99 percent of the time. How can we trust our Savior to provide if we don't trust Him to provide? :P)

Anyways, here it is:

1. I haven't had a nap, no one cares, and I'm not going to get one, even though I got less than four hours sleep last night.

RESPONSE: My usual response is to get extra cranky and yell at Wayne that he's inconsiderate. This prompts him to try to make things better but failing miserably because I have specific desires and a deep rooted belief that he can't do anything right. My NEW response is to make a strong cup of coffee and see what tasks can fall off the "To DO" list until tomorrow so that I can vegetate a bit and relax in the living room with the kids and Wayne...and SMILE.

2. I haven't had a shower in four days, no one cares, and I'm not going to be able to have one anytime in the forseeable future.

RESPONSE: My usual response is to burst into tears when I look in the mirror. Instead I'm going to relax, take a cue from the army and use baby wipes and "wash my hot spots" (haha, I love those drill sergeants!) and then cover my hair, like I'm supposed to. It's a perfect excuse for covering even though Wayne doesn't like it... hehe.

3. There is a mess all over the house and I can't stand it.

RESPONSE: usually I rant and rave while I hurriedly pick up after everyone and possibly throw them murderous looks. No shoe, paper, or set of keys stays more than five seconds unnoticed outside it's home in my living room. I pick things up IMMEDIATELY because I believe in order.
Instead, I'm going to remember that "clean" is more important than "order," and only pick up at the END of the morning and the END of the day instead of constantly flipping out everytime one thing is out of place.

4. Wayne and/or the kids are rowdy and loud when I want peace and quiet.

RESPONSE: normally I try calmly saying I need space but that never works because they just get in my face and try to get me to "join in the "fun."" Finally I snap and holler at everyone to "JUST LEAVE ME ALONE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS HOLY."
Instead, I will go for a walk or go to the bathroom and spend a few minutes of quiet time on my own before going back in to the chaos.

5. The Kids are driving me nuts.

RESPONSE: Usually this occurs when I'm trying to do something else. Instead, I will stop what I'm doing immediately, (ie, hang up the phone, get off the computer, put down the knitting needles, put away the yoga mat, put down the Bible, take off the apron, put down the broom, or whatever the case may be) and listen to my kids. What do they need? How can I direct their energy into something productive. What are they telling me that I'm not paying attention to?

6. I need something done that never gets done because Wayne forgets and I don't have a car to go run errands.

RESPONSE: Usually I nag him about it until he explodes, freaks out, goes and gets it without asking what type, brand, etc, guesses, and then gets mad when it's the wrong kind. Instead I will, once a week, tape a list of these things to his steering wheel before he goes to work. That way he can't forget or get the wrong thing.

7. Nothing is going my way and it isn't going to change anytime soon.

RESPONSE: I'm just going to pray that God notices and go with the current program, whatever happens to be going on at the moment that I have to do. And I will smile through it... how often I forget that EVEN WITHOUT A WORD my husband knows what type of mood I'm in by the way I carry myself, which can be just as much of a sin as nagging him.

AND why, you may ask? Because the Word says:

"Yes, all of you be submissive to one another and be clothed with humility, for God resists the proud but gives grace to the humble. Therefore humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, casting all your cares upon him, for HE cares for you!" (1 Peter 5:5-8)

So glad we got that out of the way.


In other news, which is quite interesting, Wayne and I have begun to pray about missions opportunities in the UK. We are pretty heartbroken for Europe and the Church in general over there and are, as you know, excited to be a part of God's Kingdom building in a place that has such a rich Christian heritage. Funnily enough, we began praying through the country and were led to Newcastle, which I know next to nothing about, having spent all my Brit holiday time in the south. Turns out Newcastle / Gateshead is super cool, full of hungry students, and has an amazing history.
THEN we found out that there is a great need for church planting and assistance there, in particular with a church that -- here's the haha-- has identical DNA to Manna's! Ever wary of the financial aspect, I looked into jobs in the area and discovered that Newcastle holds one of the UK's only CROSSFIT affiliates, which is the gym my hubby works for. THEN I looked further into it and discovered Lo and behold, we just might be onto something. We've committed to praying about it more as time goes on.

The couch

We got a new couch today!! We were going to decorate middle eastern style with a big rug and floor pillows, but yay!! I've never owned new furniture before....very excited.
Christy and her boys came over for dinner. She is such a blessing to me.


Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

Getting in the season

Christmas Joy is starting to peek in. Yay!

the kids are getting along great:


Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

We are feeling very hopeful for the future again, now that we are learning how to appreciate the seasons we get put in.

Wayne is getting some clients (although we still need more! Keep praying!) and things are looking good. Today I reorganized a bunch on my yucky old laptop and it's running a bit better. My parents sent me a webcam in the mail for Christmas so we can stay in touch. Annika received her first Mommy's touch easy clean pocket diapers today and we've tried both the snaps and the touchtape kinds... I'm totally in love with these diapers. My advice to new moms is: don't waste money on all the millions of baby things you can buy that your kids will outgrow in a few months. Spend most of your money on stuff like these, which will last their whole toddlerhood and be amazing.

And.... yeah. Still no knitting!!! This is rotten. I WILL knit tonight. I have to finish her legwarmers before she's outgrown them, haha.

Anyways, here's the video from the Christmas party. Enjoy!


Photo Sharing - Video Sharing - Photo Printing - Photo Books

Hidden idols dressed as friends

I'm going to talk about idolatry today, but don't run away if you think it's something you don't have a problem with. I never knew I did.

For weeks now, something has been amiss in our house. I knew that my attitude towards the changes occuring had something to do with it, but I couldn't really repent if I didn't know HOW what I was doing was affecting what God was doing.

Last night was the 173rd Airborne's Christmas party, which we go to every year. I look forward to it because it's the only party we get to go to, and this year was no different. I was looking forward to getting prettied up, dancing with Wayne, and maybe taking a good family portrait.

Anyways, last night we were supposed to get there at 7:30. I was nervous about it this year because 7 pm is Annika's bedtime and I'm like a nazi about her not going to bed later-- I wanted her to be good but I knew she was going to be exhausted, especially since it goes til like... ten. Also, there is a raffle there, and every year Wayne and I win something cool. This year, the grand prize was a brand new laptop. For months I'd been certain we were going to win it. After all, I'm using a 1998 Compaq that is so old it doesn't even have letters on the keyboard in most spaces. It is slow as a tortoise, no matter what I do, filled with garbage I can't seem to lose, and frequently breaks down, forcing me to spend whole days wasted on getting it running again. The internet is pretty much my home away from home.... it's my social outlet because I'm a very secluded SAHM, and it's also my ministry.... something that God frequently uses me for. When I didn't have a computer and had to go to the library all the time, you'll remember, it was not a happy time in Barbie land. I was miserable. (although there's something to be said for the fact that God once convicted me of going from "house to house" through my computer and phone, instead of being a KEEPER AT HOME, which I might blog about one day)

Anyways, needless to say, I was looking forward to this evening. Of course, as 5:30 neared and I became forced to give up all hopes of getting a shower in, I realized that I couldn't wear anything cute (my legs didn't get shaved), my hair was four days greasy, I had pimples and had run out of makeup. So there went my fantasy of getting the chance to glam up.

Then the kids went nuts. Screaming, hollering, general mayhem... pooping consecutively and getting their party outfits dirty, etc, etc. So there went my fantasy of having perfectly behaved, very well groomed children.

Then Wayne got his knee taken out by some goober during a church football game, and couldn't walk. Consequentially, he was in a knee brace that didn't fit under his suit pants. So there went my fantasy of gliding away on the dance floor with my sexy, suited husband.

We got there anyways, had dinner, smiled at people, and then spent most of the evening chasing down annika. The raffle came and went. I won a coffee pot and a christmas themed center piece. Some old guy from Italy won the laptop. I was LIVID.

No family photos, no romance, no perfect Christmas kids, no laptop. I DID get a chance to have my first beer in what felt like two years, and that was good. But I mean, literally, until this morning I was still kinda shocked, and definitely upset that our night was such a bummer, and that I didn't win that stupid laptop. It just seems unfair. God knows for a fact that in our house, we often wonder where our next gallon of milk is going to come from (although, incredibly, he has provided us with a VERY full freezer and pantry this season, thank You!) so there's no imaginable way that Wayne will ever be able to buy me a new laptop, which means, if this one totally breaks, goodbye internet. Just like our car. If our car goes kaput, as you well know from my endless blogging about it, goodbye life.

So, I grumbled. Alot. It's not so much that I've been whining TO anyone,(well, maybe you guys, but hey--- this is a journal) it's that I've been whining internally, and it shows on the outside. Wayne has been making a real, concerted effort to be wonderful this past week and I'm grateful and it hasn't escaped my notice, but I grumble inwardly because I want MORE. I want MORE out of my husband, I want more out of church, I want more out of my life.
This prompted me last night to begin praying about my expectations. After all, the expectations that I have of my husband were totally off and it screwed us up bad. Ditto for the expectations that I have of my kids. Or my labor. Or my lifestyle. etc.

Todays' sermon was about complaining. The MINUTE Pastor Fletcher started preaching, I knew instantaneously that it was for me. So much so, that Ishod *magically* started wailing the minute he started preaching. Haha. Determined not to let Satan take this message from me, I rushed quietly to the nursing room, where I could watch it on TV while I nursed him . Lo and behold ,a girl was in there who I had noticed the week previous. She had a moby wrap, I had a moby wrap, we started to talk. Turns out the sermon was for her too. (and probably many of the other people there! Hehe)

So we listened intently as we nursed, amening, crying a little, the whole way through as we were brought to our knees in repentance of our complaining! Then, I quietly went to the changing table to change Ishod. Upon returning, I felt prompted to share my phone number with her to let her know she could count on me to pray or be there if she needed me to help her as she re-learned to find joy in her life. She told me that as I had been changing Ishod, she had been praying that God would prompt me to give her my number. Wow! So, blessed, we hugged and parted ways.

On my way out the door, I ran into Jeff, our district pastor. He asked me how I was and kind of lingered. Thank God he did.... I was forced to share a bit of what we had been going through, because of the awkward silence!! WHAT A RELIEF to be able to share with our family's God-given authority the truth about what we were going through. But to make matters crazier, He told me that a man (whose wife the Lord has been simultaneously telling me I need to receive Titus 2 information from) who works in the church came in to his office this week and had asked: Tell me about Wayne and Barbie. What's going on with them? At that moment, he (our pastor) had been feeling strongly that we needed intercession! Praise be to God for His absolutely amazing faithfulness... he never hangs up the phone.

Greatly encouraged, I made an appointment for all of us to speak to Jeff this week and walked out to the car, determined to make a new start withOUT the complaining.

We barely made it home before I realized things weren't going to go my way. I really wanted to go home and blog about what had happened, but Wayne had only a couple hours at home before his cell group tonight, and thus he spent it online reading up on the Highland Games for which he is training. I really wanted a nap and a shower, but the kids were both awake alternately. And there it was: life was sucking. And instead of being a changed person, I was a nightmare of inner complaining, until my poor husband, who couldn't take it anymore, left early for his commitment, leaving me wondering just what to do.

He called me from the car and walked me through what was going on. "You've made an idol out of that laptop," he said. "Don't you think God is so much bigger than what you are trying to make Him out to be? It isn't about you. When He sees fit to give you a laptop, if he does, he'll find a way. You have forgotten whats important."
Tearfully, I admitted he was right. Upon hanging up the phone, I realized he was more right than he knew. I had made an idol out of my husband, too.

And my church.

And my kids.

And my house.

And my way of life.


Oh.
my.
gosh.

the learning never ends.

Arg

Wayne and I woke up at 5 am today. I was nursing the baby and he came in to get dressed for the gym and sat on the edge of the bed. He shared with me that he was going to leave the Mens' Mentoring for Full Time Ministry class at church.

He said some things that I agree with--- he wants to develop Jesus Christ's DNA and not Pastor Fletcher's, as much as he loves the guy and thinks he's amazing. He loves the church and wants to serve the people at Manna, but in ways he is good at (like doing XBOX cells with David) and not in ways that are being asked of him (like manning the new member table.) He wants to serve God and be in ministry, but not the path that's laid out for so many others and determined by Manna's DNA. (ie. GO to GCD. Get ordained. Be one of the pastors.)

And so, just like that, the final thread of pretense that my husband will one day be "that guy" I've built up in my head since before we were even married is gone.

I shouldn't say that--- we never know what God will do and with Him all things are possible. However, in this season, something very yogic is happening to me. It's like peeling away the onion skin layers of the koshas on my man....First we had to strip the layer that was the "Christianese" veneer. Then we stripped away the layer that "looked like everyone ELSE'S husband." Then we stripped away the one that dealt with his inner workings as I saw them. Then we stripped away the one that represented his heart focus. And now, he's standing before me, raw, and I love him. I'm scared and frustrated, and struggling to find joy in this trial, but I love him. And amazingly, I love him for who he is, not because I have to according to the Bible.

So.... now what? I feel like I've dwelled on this for a week now, and it has alternately broke my heart and been a huge relief. My pride took another fall today as I watched the words leave his lips--- all I could picture was people's faces as they would react to the news that Wayne is leaving the cell when he tells them on Sunday morning. Most of me wishes he would just stop and play the game. I think of these guys as Wayne's ticket to his future. Part of me is glad that he can't play the game right now. After all, his only future is in Christ, not necessarily in what these guys are doing. I admire these men so much, but I admire them as a measure of their success. And I'll admit, alot of that is a wordly admiration. I'm proud of them for allowing God to mold them into "somebody."

But I feel like this huge weight has been lifted off my back. Now, things get real. There is no more shiny film over our family in the eyes of others. There is no more expectation because Wayne has determined that he needed to go back and be a face in the crowd.

Let's see what happens. And because my identity has once again been stripped from me..... I'm incredibly uncomfortable. I need the mind of Christ for this situation, but I don't know what that is.

What I really want to do is find some tiny, old, gorgeous church.... made of stone, with big cathedral cielings and windows that let the sun in through colored panes. One populated with older folks and families in suits....one where we sing hymns and where Annika and Ishod can play quietly in the pew beside us as we worship as a family. One that's basically the opposite of Manna. (and this is NOT because I don't love Manna. I love it passionately, I'm amazed by it every day. I believe in it's vision and I pray daily for it to come to pass. It's because I am craving a fresh perspective, a change, to help me get through this.)

I want to find a church like that because there are no aspirations in places like that to do world-changing things for God. Churches like that are content to be who they are--- places in which God is glorified and people can come to Him as a family. The body of believers there is equipped to serve one another, but not to advance the kingdom violently through mighty feats of excellence in leadership and demonstrable signs and wonders. They serve lunches at the senior center and bring flowers to young mothers. They have bake sales and prayer meetings. And they live quiet, peaceable lives. In a place like that, I wouldn't be inspired, encouraged, and often pressured to be more and do more than God has currently graced me with the ability to do or be. I would be pressing on towards the goal, but in a way that allowed me to focus without the strain of wondering how I can (and how I can get my husband) to do more, be more, and have more to show for the Kingdom. No, my husband probably isn't destined to have a multi-million dollar ministry where thousands of souls get saved every day. Is that ALL God can do with people? Is that the only measure of success at godliness? Ultimately, isn't God the one who calls the shots, and shouldn't we be satisfied with what He is handing us?

I told Wayne the other day that he was in a perpetual state of dissatisfaction. I see now that it's not just him.

Lord, forgive me for allowing the fear of man to replace the fear of You so easily in my life. Forgive me for not seeing past the structure of this church into the heart of what you are doing. Forgive me for placing fallible men on a pedastal above your infallible Son. Most of all, God, thank you for the Cross. Thank you for the blood of Jesus, by which my sins are cast as far from me as the East is from the West. I pray that you would use this experience, God, for your glory, and that you would navigate our family through these bumps in the road and keep us on the narrow path. Help us, most of all, Lord, to love each other and to love You, and not to care what other people think. Help us to measure our success by how much we look like YOU and not like other people.
In Jesus' name. Amen.

Well

I've been blue, dealing with dying to my lofty aspirations of being some great force in the Kingdom with my pastor husband and my eight kids. (turns out wayne has asked me to take BC. I'm super opposed to it, and incredibly heartbroken, but I'm going to do it anyways because I want to obey him.)

Wayne came in to the room last night while I was sleeping and gave me a deep, delicious kiss, and said: "Life is what happens while you're waiting for life to happen. You need to learn that." I loved him so much in that moment, because that's what I needed to remember. The word says in Mark, I think, that when salt loses it's flavor, it becomes useless and needs to be thrown out. I've lost my flavor to him, but I haven't lost my preservative function. I'm bland salt. Bleh. Some salt of the world.

If your husband wants you to love him where he's at, sisters, and you refuse him that, you are missing out on the one chance to MAKE that mark in him that could forever change his life. Love him. Respect him. Give him, in this season, what he needs from you to not just survive, but thrive.

disillusionment and dying to self, phase two.

Well, I'm getting a bigger and better picture of where my man's faith is at, and that is helping me to deal with things as they come.
First of all, I guess, I'm dealing with disillusionment.
When I married him, it had been prophesied over me that my husband was going to be a pastor and that I would meet him in Basic Training. Imagine, of course, my state of mind as we went through life... first meeting and then marrying in BCT, and then when we finally settled into a church where he had the opportunity to "go somewhere."
As he moved forward in his faith, and in the ranks of leadership there, it became apparent to both of us that if God was going to open doors for him in ministry through this particular church, he was going to have to meet him halfway by agreeing to submit to the church's particular "DNA," or style of doing things. Which he wasn't. Suits and ties and "marketplace" thinking hasn't yet been my husband's forte. In fact, as he reminded me last night.... it's not a place he's looking forward to going. To take it even further, I remember when he was selling cars and had to go to work in a suit every morning that I had to press the night before. Not only did I hate it, he hated it. And he looked like a giant, overgrown kid playing dress up. Oddly enough, if you throw a helmet, a toga, and a leather cape on him and hand him a spear, he looks like a warrior. That's just who he is. In another twist of irony, someone once prophesied over him that he would be a king in the marketplace.

Anyways, fast forward to California, where we went to help a growing church in desperate need of action and people who know how to use their giftings. We were super equipped to help the church in California, but we were useless to them because we couldn't find a way to communicate to them what we had learned. I believe the root of that was in two places: fear and pride on our part. and a little frustration mixed in. Combined.

California broke my husband. To say that he went through a disillusionment period is an understatement. He was absolutely shaken. Not in fear, though. In frustration that his life would come to mean nothing-- that his work for the Kingdom meant nothing.
He began to believe that God chose not to speak to him, and to distrust pastors who use Christianese "catch phrases" and didn't explain them. He lamented the loss of Christian culture to worldly culture, and couldn't relate to anyone anymore, not for lack of trying. My husband has always been a solitary man with few, but incredibly close, friendships. But at this point, he felt left to his own devices. Abandoned by God and man. When he tried to share his struggle with the few people he wanted to respect who could help him, they gave him trite answers and tried to placate him by regurgitating things they had learned or giving him brief answers that sounded good but had no practical application that he could see or understand. He became bitter. When God called us back to North Carolina, we came joyfully. Neither he nor I were happy in California. But it was bittersweet-- there was a sense of resignation that neither one of us will be able to finish the things we start, or to really maintain the forward thrust of motion we had been caught up in.

Now that things have settled here, we are dealing with phase two of the disillusionment and dying to our selves. I initially understood that my husband was having a crisis of faith, based on a conversation we had recently. I had agonized for months about how to reproach him for some behavior that was recurring. Finally, I attempted to engage him in a talk during which I told him: "You aren't acting like a Christian."
His response was: "I don't feel much like one." I panicked.

Underneath all of that, I was able to grasp the thing that was happening: He isn't hearing from God, he isn't optimistic anymore about his role in the local body and he doesn't know what God has for him. He's overwhelmed with trying to feed and clothe and care for a family of four on the most measly salary anyone has ever seen, and time is passing him by and his dreams aren't being realized. Anyone would go through it at that point, I'm sure. I've been there. It's called a quarter life crisis. And it's hard.

Of course, I grabbed onto the two things that freaked me out the most: his faith issue (not hearing from God or thinking God is putting him through it for the fun of it) and his behavior in certain areas. And I addressed that in that talk.... culminating in a better understanding of who my husband is and how to help him. And as I said earlier, as his helpmeet, that makes it my time to shine.

Last night, we addressed part two of the disillusionment process for ME, which is where I was going wrong as his help meet. In a lengthy, tearful discussion peppered with frustrations and laughter, we managed to hash out the root of the issue for me. And guess what it was? Pride! How ironic, when that's what I've been trying to tell HIM is his problem.

Pride. Pride keeps me from being real with other Christians...I'm not a hypocrite by any means, but I've got pharisaical tendencies to want to "out-Christian" others.... not for the sake of ME but for the greater good of the church. I read books about "perfect" marriages and "perfect" Christian women and I want to be that so bad that I endlessly torture myself into that mold---I don't tell people when they ask how I'm doing that I need help because I'm scared they'll think I'm not mature enough to know how to deal with my own issues. When Pastors' wives ask me about my husband and what he's up to I play up this big vision for him and how he's going to walk in it. I don't tell them that we need prayer for finances, to put food on the table, to do family devotions or for just plain getting along some days. (although this is becoming more and more rare-- yay for biblical marriages, at least I can say that that works!)

It's doubly hard for me. After all, my identity is wrapped up in my husband. "Stop acting like a pastor's wife," he told me. "You need to understand who you really are. You are married to me. I'm far from perfect. We live in a small house in a middle to lower income area in a black hole. We are struggling to survive. We have two beautiful children. We love each other. I'm not ready to be the guy you think you want to be with. Right now I need to be me, to finish something I start, and to figure out what I'm going to be in the future."


It's like when I FIRST became a Christian. I still smoked and drank and partied and had sex and did all kinds of nonsense that doesn't fit in with a Christian lifestyle. And most nights I'd come home, curl up with my bible and my tears and my Jesus, and GENUINELY repent of all of it, only to go back the very next night and do it all again. But I lived in constant fear that a Christian person from church would run into me in a bar and I'd be smoking. Or that the girl who was discipling me would "stop by" when there was a guy at my house. They put the fear of the Lord in me, but it was fear of THEM, not the Lord. If I had really feared the Lord, I would have known He could see me even when my blinds are closed, even when the lights are low in the club.

So last night, Wayne says to me as we're enjoying a movie together: "I think every person should get one free phone call to God in their life." And I reacted pitifully.
"One phone call? Wayne, we get millions. He never hangs up the phone."
"Oh come on, " he said. "I mean, to hear his voice. You know?"
I threw up my hands in exasperation at his obvious lack of faith, in an even more obvious lack of humor "No Wayne, I don't know. I hear His voice every day and you could too."
He was right to call my response "a trite platitude." In my response I showed him both my fear of his "UnChristianese behavior" and my pride over my own "holiness." Nothing in the way I talked to him for the next hour and a half showed him love or respect. Just fear that he would never "act like a Christian," and that he had ceased to try.

But over the course of our discussion, he showed me two things. One, that his FAITH wasn't shaken, but his pride was. Because he had repented of his pride and broken it.... God had spoken to him. And what He had said was this: "Wayne, you are in a season where you need to build character and perseverence. You are not equipped to be a pastor at this moment. Right now, you need to know that you've never really finished anything in your life, that you have a family to provide for, that you're kind of a redneck and an unrefined viking, and that that's simply who you are right now. Now is a time to build up your family and your business, to focus internally, and to build character through it. So RELAX. Just relax."

Wow. And now God is calling me to do that very same thing... just relax. His Word does not return void. We all need to remind ourselves of that and to live in our seasons, keeping our eyes on the goal. His goal and not ours. His timing and not ours.

We have to be "close to the cross, mindful of the cost, satisfied with Jesus."

Christmas PLans

I still haven't managed to knit one single stitch since Ishod has arrived, so I'm unfortunately going to abandon the quick knit stripey stockings plan I had devised to decorate the house with all that extra Christmas yarn I have.... arg. Because we are doing Christmas at Wayne's dad's this year, we are actually going to set up the tree at his place, too, which leaves me pretty Jehova's Witness-like in the Christmas decor department.
It's shameful how little I've been knitting. I really miss it.

I have, however, made up the Christmas eve menus. In France we do the "Reveillon"--- a "Waiting for Jesus" kind of celebration on the eve of Christmas. Wayne's dad is in charge of the actual day meal, (we're having duck! Yum!) So here's the menu and plans for our small family's eve celebration:

Glass of Swedish glogg and Foie Gras on Krispbread
Smoked salmon and lemon slices
Lobster Bisque
Yummy cheese platter and salad

For dessert:
Christmas Pudding
Hot chocolate with marshmallows.

We will be having supper at 6, followed by a Christmas play (Wayne and I are going to tell Annika the story of Christmas) and Caroling with the beans. At 8 we are going to watch my all time favorite Christmas movie, The preacher's wife, with Whitney Houston, and then we (or perhaps I?) will be systematically praying for the nations starting at 10 in a Christmas countdown vigil. And at midnight, of course, we'll break out the bubbly and welcome Jesus into the world with the pop of a champagne (or cider) cork and a great deal of "wow!"

I'm really looking forward to it.

And thanks for all the prayer, guys. We are really blessed by it!

Wayne and I have been discussing the possibility of getting involved in the North American Regia Society, and doing viking-age living history stuff as a family. We are amped to do it but we dont have a ton of financial resources to get started and there is no current group in North Carolina to which we could attach.
But it is something we've wanted to do for a long time and, frankly, for which we are definitely made. :P Plus, the kids will totally love it!

Ok, that's all the updates I've got for today. Oh, we went to the doc's this AM and Ishod has gained 1 1/2 lbs in 8 days.... totally more than he needed. My boob milk is good and he's getting all the hindmilk...so no more worrying.
I'm hoping to re-start my yoga practice tomorrow since I'm starting to feel a bit better, and I know Annika will enjoy it-- everytime I roll out the yoga mat for meditation she runs over to do some down dog, updog sequences. What a yoga baby!
We still haven't gotten Ishod circumsized. We found a day or night mohel in Fl who was willing to do it until he heard we wouldn't renounce Jesus.
Basically, the Rabbinical council says that to do a Brit Milah the son must be the child of two non-Jesus loving parents, at the very least a non-Jesus freak mom. whoops! Sorry, I wont deny my savior. I'm desperately trying to contact a messianic congregation about an hour and a half from here who might be able to help. But he's not getting any younger, so I appreciate SO much any prayer you guys can deliver to get this little baby snipped!

The day the world stood still

What a day. I'm a person who takes blogging to the level of journaling, so I apologize ahead of time to any offended parties

for sharing this stuff on the net. The reason I do it is simple. I once read a blog that changed the way I thought about

something. I once read a blog that encouraged me that I was making a good decision. I once read a blog where I discovered

that other people were going through the exact same thing I was. And for that--- it's all worth the potential embarrassment

of someone who knows us reading this and going: "Ooooooooh!! I'm telling."
Christians, I believe, should be transparent. It prevents hipocrisy and brings things to the light. That's what I'm trying

to do here.

I guess I should start by saying that God allows me to be tested, every time, when I make up my mind to follow Him in one

area of my life. That's exactly what has happened with me since the Ravelry thread on submission to your husband. The thing,

for those of you who aren't on Ravelry, about that thread was that there was something profoundly spiritual happening in it.

It reminded me of some old school R&P threads--- in that God and Satan, alongside the flesh, were definitely showing up and

definitely doing battle. In it, the very idea that one could be truly joyful in a submitted wife role was fought over. And I

maintained a position that I have discovered to be true-- that there is joy in submission, in doing what we were created to

do.

Of course, that got tested immediately, and I have always been able to say that it has been tested in a way that kept me

safe. But over the last few weeks, the mental and moral state of my husband has taken a plunge to a place where I'm not sure

what is going on anymore. Basically--- he's having a faith crisis. It's been going on since California, and it's not without

cause. But it is rooted in sin, and unfortunately for all of us, no one else can learn our lessons for us at the foot of the

cross. They have to be personalized and delivered straight to us by our Lord Himself, and I'm not the Holy Spirit in his

life. I am "AS" the Holy Spirit in his life.

We've had the opportunity to talk about it at great lengths this weekend. We even forsook the fellowship of believers to

sort it all out. And we've come to quite a few conclusions which I will spare you. But let me just say that I've had to

re-evaluate the expectations that I have of my husband because of some choices he is making. And it has been a rough

adjustment. I praise God for the strength He gives me not to be fearful in dark times but to be hopeful and teachable.

In today's My Utmost for His highest, Oswald Chambers says that frequently Christians focus too much on the effects of the

Cross and forget to focus on the cross itself. That's what has been happening here. My husband has expectations that come

from His decision to put His faith in God. When God doesn't deliver, he hasn't said: "what's wrong with me?" He's said:

"What's wrong with God?"

And it's hard. I'm not saying these things to uncover my husband, I'm saying them because somewhere someone is reading this

who has a wife or husband who goes through the exact same thing. And just as I have hope in this crisis, I want them to have

hope too.

A response to a post of mine in the the now-dying feminism thread in ravelry says: "The submitted wife thing I'm sure works

fine in ideal scenarios, ones in which the man is respectful, mature, affectionate, a good communicator, and a good

provider. One in which the wife never has to worry about money for food, clothing, shelter, etc., and one in which the wife

really does have as her only goal a clean house, dinner on the table, and a passel of kids underfoot. I'm sure it works very

well there."

The thing is... that person (femiknitzi, for inquiring minds) missed the whole point with that statement. You see, even if

your husband is disrespectful, immature, not affectionate, a terrible communicator, and a terrible provider... Even when you

have no idea where your next dime will come from, and when your dreams are bigger than a clean house, there can be joy in

submission. And why? Because you have learned the hardest lesson every Christian who is "dying to herself" can grasp: it's

not about you. Your joy doesn't depend on the benefits you receive. Those benefits are good and great and wonderful, but

they aren't the point. I've certainly lived without them and I don't expect them to result from my submission. But I do

expect to honor God. And that's a joy unlike any other.

The bottom line is that we must choose today whom we will serve-- whether it be our own selves or the Lord or other people. And through the process of sanctification, by the grace of God, I'm starting to learn what that means.

After our talk, which was admittedly very hard... (I have been agonizing over bringing a biblical reproof to my husband over certain things he has been doing. The reason I struggle is because I'm not sure where his faith lies. You can tell a professing christian something about sin in his life and his response will be "thank you, sister," and true repentance. But you can tell an unsaved person the same thing and his response will be "who are you to judge me? screw you." I wasn't sure which route to take with my husband because the very sin I wanted to address was one that caused him to respond like an unsaved person. To top it off, I wasn't sure if I should bring it to a pastor as well, or wether that was uncovering my husband. In the end, the right choice was to bring it at an appropriate time to my husband alone, and then to LISTEN as he shared with me the inner workings of his heart. And though it appeared as though no difference was made by my saying anything, we ended the conversation after many hours with his repentance in one or two areas that I had addressed. His faith is still on shaky ground, which is scary, but I am hopeful. And in the end, our love and unity was strengthened. His reactions to our talk since yesterday have been totally changed. I'm amazed and thankful.)

He asked me something that I think we should all ask of ourselves: "Do you love and respect me because the Bible says you have to, or do you love and respect me because you really do?"

Wow. What a tough question to answer. I went the honest route: "sometimes," I said, "I love you because I have to. But more often than not I love you because I really love you."
"What is there to love about me?" he asked.

My mind wandered over the last three incredible years of marriage. I thought about picking ripe berries with him in a field behind an old southern church in the hot, sweaty summer, about waiting for him as he ran into the forest to grab me the prettiest flower he had ever seen. I thought about pictures he had drawn of us as a legionnaire and his wife on the sandy beaches of ancient greece. I thought about nights up late creating "impenetrable fortresses" and our dream of opening a viking living history village and raising our kids in "the olde ways." I thought about holding hands and racing down the off ramp of a freeway, hearts pounding, barbed wire cuts bleeding in our legs and arms as we ran towards freedom and love together that fateful April day at Fort Jackson.
I thought about summer days spent on the sandy shores of the cape fear river, aligators and all. About freezing Christmas mornings when we clustered around our tree, opening presents other people had gotten us to give to each other.

I thought about the man who stood up to a whole company's worth of drill seargants to profess his love for me. I thought about the man who tried to sustain his family any way he knew how when his dream was gone... from putting on a suit every morning to sell cars to track pants to sell fitness.
I thought about his excited shout when he first saw Annika's head appear, and again as he raised his new son up in the air with great pride.

"What's not to love?" I told him. "I've never loved anything more."

You see, whether my husband is a believer or not is going to HUGELY affect the quality of my life and my children's lives. But it isn't going to change the love I have for him or my ability to submit to him. It's only going to change the speed at which I need to pull myself together enough to be his REAL helpmeet. That's what I'm here for. And now is my time to shine. :)

the beginnings of a new season

Well, mom's gone. She left tearfully this morning (as I knew she would) and I was sad to see her go. My house has been restored to it's normal workings now--- no more wierd butter dishes sitting out or onions on the kitchen floor, no more unidentified plastic bags full of yumminess in the refrigerator door or open windows in my office. Things have gone very quickly back to ordinary. No more help either! I'm totally alone with a mountain of things to do and get done.
I'm alone in the house with the babies. Annika is talking to herself and waiting for lunch, and Ishod is sleeping. He hasn't figured out his days from his nights yet.

When mom arrived at the airport, she called to tell me she had made it safely. I thanked her again for being so helpful and she said she wanted to apologize for the times she wasn't helpful. I wanted to cry but I made nothing out of it and quickly changed the subject. You see, it MATTERS to me that my parents approve of me. But I sometimes have to accept that they aren't always going to.... that's the nature of life.

Last night as we were watching Empire of the Sun all together, Wayne was chopping up some wood pieces for her and he went outside to file them so I wouldn't flip about the filings on the floor. All of a sudden mom errupted into a horrifying rant about how terrible it was that we were so ill-informed about the goings on in the world. I mean, a real rant... hollering and everything. I asked her where the notion even came from and she said she had wanted to go get a newspaper for Wayne to put the filings on so he could stay inside in the warm, but of course, we didn't have a newspaper. This really freaked her out. I can see why--I used to be a journalist! The idea of me not being bound and glued to the news is really strange, but also liberating for me... just different than what she's used to. But to her, it's the epitome of me not living up to the dreams she had for me. And that hurts her. I know. My parents have always had big plans for us and big ideas. Since arriving here she has spent lengthy car rides trying to convince me to move ANYWHERE besides Fayetteville, to nag my husband into doing things around the house, (she even tried it!) and to change our way of life in any number of ways. It's really got me thinking.

You see, a few weeks ago, before the arrival of our two latest visitors, there were neither seeds of doubt nor seeds of strife in our home. Things were calm, if you can believe that, and things were simple. But then in comes people with opinions and ideas and questions and all of a sudden I find myself questioning everything. It threw my husband for a spin as well. And I'm not blaming the guests, mind you. I'm blaming myself--- in the time in which I needed my Savior most, I totally and completely abandoned Him for time trying to live up to the expectations of my guests. Sure, I read my bible. But I didn't COMMUNE with my Lord. I didn't spend time in worship, I didn't take the time to hear from God. And so my guests suffered, because they could see that I was unhappy with the way they wanted to tell me how life should be for me, instead of me just graciously taking their opinions and being an example, I shut down and got frustrated with them and the situation.

At that moment, I lost my ability to be light in the world. I lost my ability to stand on what I know is right and ok because I allowed their opinions to plant seeds in my heart--- if only for a moment. I disrespected my husband because they disrespected my husband. I questioned my child training methods because they questioned them. I allowed myself to begin to question what the heck we were doing back in Fayetteville and all that because THEY couldn't understand it. I didn't do these things externally or out loud, but my greatest sin is to do them in my heart-- because the Lord knows my heart.

I ended up showing my doubt through tearful moments and frustrations instead of standing my ground so completely that they couldn't help but see that I was OK and in God's will for my life. But somehow, some way, God still was able to show that to my mom on her drive to the airport, because she called and said she was sorry. Amazing.
I don't want her to be sorry. I am sorry, because I failed. She's just doing what she knows to do. She isn't a Christian. How else could she behave?

Anyways.... it's all crazy. Gah. I sure did learn a ton about the use of my tongue, though. And now that I've repented, I am praying that God will restore right order in my home. It appears He has already begun to do just that :)

Thanksgiving

Things have been so crazy here-- sorry for the slow updates.

Let's see. Ishod is eight days old. We are trying to get him circumsized but it's been a challenge so far. If God wants it, it will happen. No open doors yet.

He is so cute and fun! I can't believe how easy newborns are and I can't believe I was so flipped out about Annika- I'm wondering just how selfish I really was last year when she was born because I suffered so much at the beginning.... and really all throughout. Wierd.

My mom has been here to help out. I wasn't sure what to expect. Last year with Annika it was really challenging, mostly because she is a person with a great many opinions that she likes to put on people about EVERYTHING. As a result, I'm a great disappointment to my parents. I have been for a long time, because their idea of what I would end up doing and being was never mine, and they have just had challenge after challenge raising the kind of daughter they see as ideal.
Because of that, there is always a difficult moment when my mom gives an opinion about something (and believe me, it could be anything) and I disagree. She can't fathom that I might a) not agree and b) not listen. She thinks it's rebellion in me, ironically, because rebellion is actually a generational curse and a demonic thing I've dealt with periodically that was passed on THROUGH her to me. I say this not because of anything major--- my mother is by all worldly standards a wonderful person. She's amazing. But her own rebellion definitely passed into me and has been something I have frequently done battle with.

To top it off, she voices her opinions as if they are fact. Which makes it hard when they are often unbiblical. For example, she has been totally appalled at the dynamic in my marriage. She doesn't like that I submit to my husband. She tried to curse my marriage by saying we'd be divorced in ten years when I realized how much he was stifling me. She things Wayne is a tyrant and big old meanie. (among other nicer things, of course, but the point is that she can't imagine why I would live this way.) She tried to curse my daughter by saying she would absolutely be rebellious against us. (death and life are in the power of the tongue is not something she seems to be familiar with!) She doesn't like the south because she doesn't like the way people live here and thinks everyone here is an uneducated redneck and therefore not interesting. On the way to my MIL's house today, she kept ranting on and on about how in the world I could choose to live here when I've been all over the world and seen so many things. What a dump, she thinks. And I understand... I really do. Fayetteville can seem like a dump. I certainly thought so when I moved here.... But if someone chooses to live here and professes to be happy-- why not give them the benefit of the doubt? Why say it's IMPOSSIBLE to be happy here?

I think the hardest things have been to see how she still hasn't let go of the fact that Wayne and I actually got married. She brought up today, in the midst of some nice conversation at Wayne's dad's house, how the first few times he talked to my own dad were in an extremely unpleasant "circumstances." (reminder to those who are new to my blog--- we eloped while AWOL from basic training in the army after knowing each other less than three weeks and my parents were LIVID.)
These circumstances were unpleasant for MY parents, so much so that they can't let them go. EVERY time, without fail, that they are with us they have to mention at least once how much they disapproved. But Wayne's dad's response was awesomely Spirit led: "Well," he said. "I realized that these were the cards we had been dealt. But more than that, they love each other. And I've come to love Barbie just as much as you do." what a blessing that was!
And she keeps saying things about my marriage that really sting. She called my husband a "child," and said she can't understand how I could respect him. Long story short, she basically manifested right in my kitchen for almost thirty minutes... and I stood there knowing in the Spirit that I should take authority and start casting out devils in the name of Jesus while allowing my fear in the flesh to win and just staring, wide eyed, as she insulted my family, my way of life, and my God's plan for a heavenly marriage.

Basically? It's a really good lesson in parenting. You can't plan out your kids lives, or expect them to DO certain things just because that's how you envision life for them. You have to train them up in the way they should go--- controlling much in the beginning, then allowing them to use self control, and finally releasing them to the Spirit controlled life. Like an inverted triangle. If you try to control it all from day one to the end, you are not parenting. You are dictating. And it's hard. See, my parents don't believe that I should look to my husband for guidance, advice, and life choices. They still think they know better than he does what is "good " for me. It's really pretty good for me to go through this-- although it's incredibly painful every time because --- let's face it--- I want them to like me and be proud of me.

On top of that, Wayne always gets really frustrated when we have guests who "interrupt" our family DNA. (Which we have a lot , because our guests are usually not Christians and usually very opinionated, even when they are.) So he kind of shuts down. He's polite, but just enough. And he sulks a lot when no one's looking, which makes me feel like he's making a bad situation even more unbearable for me.
Basically, everyone I know has a hard time when their mom or their in laws come to the house for a visit. But it gets even harder when my mom and my husband are actually in competition for who gets to run the house... and when I'm constantly being forced to choose my husband over my mother who just doesn't understand why it's disrespectful to come into someone's house and just take over with our own ideas of how things "should" be done.

Annika reacts to all the vibes in the house by throwing tantrums like we've never seen, which is hard, because the grandparents don't agree with discipline. Shes' very frustrated and I can't do much but pray against the verbal assaults she is enduring in the curse department-- she's been called "sickly," "fragile," "rebellious," "difficult," "willful," and "disobedient," time after time this week, none of which are adjectives I'm receiving for her character if you know what I mean.

But through it all, I'm rejoicing in these trials... because I know that God is creating perseverence and character in me through them! It's a beautiful thing. I just hope we all come out of it unscathed and I hope that despite all of it, I'm able to be a light in this home in whatever way God sees fit.

In other news, the BFing is going great although he's not a good latcher. I'm not sleeping much but that's normal. I'm really looking forward to next week's peace and a return to our "normal" lives (with our new addition)

I'm also SO thankful.... so thankful! For my family, for my mother's help this week with the cooking and cleaning, etc. For my friends, for my church, for the advancement of the kingdom- and most of all for the CROSS. Thank You, so much Lord, for the wonderous cross on which I can nail everything that keeps me from perfect union with You!

He's finally here!

And he's aaaamaaaazing!!! Details of labor later. Sooo busy.

Here's the first pic :)


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love you guys!

The learning never stops.

It's 1 am here in Fayetteville. Wayne and I went to bed with a renewed sense of love for each other and snuggled up tightly at 10:30. Can I just say for a moment how much I love my husband? Being one with someone is just incredible..... he and I are about as different as they come, but when it comes down to it it's amazing to know we not only know each other better than anyone in the world but believe in each other more than anyone in the world and are better equipped to handle each other than anyone in the world. I just love him so much, he is such a blessing in my life. We learned a lesson I'll never forget tonight--- that ultimately, and no matter how hard it is, our "team" is the focus of this little family. We can't stop running the race just because we're tired. We have to be able to depend on each other. Consider us battle buddies.... it's often us against the world!

I was awakened with desperately awful contractions at 11 and haven't been able to go back to bed since. To top it off, as I was getting off the toilet a few minutes ago, I was pleasantly surprised by a large, stringy, mucousy mess running down my leg and scaring the crap out of me (yes, I am still nervous about my water breaking!)-- that's right folks, the rest of my mucous plug. (if you've never been pregnant, reading my blog is probably making you wonder if you ever should. It is a pretty ghastly experience at times and I'm the first to tell you it's possible to love the result and LOATHE the experience.)

So yay. What I love about labor is....there is really so little anyone can tell you about your own, they are all different. And that though there are volumes of information available to you out there, knowing ALL Of it wont make a single difference in the way you experience yours-- no matter how informed you are your labor will still both SUCK completely and be totally amazing. What a wierd thing. No wonder the Word says we are sanctified by childbirth.

Well, I'm going to go back to looking up bacterial infections in OBGYN journals and reading up on what the term "white privilege" means (I've just discovered it in a ravelry thread on the public school systems) and pray that these bad boys ease to a low roar so I can go back to sleep.

I can't remember the last time sleep sounded so sweet to me... and to think I'm not going to have any for months to come. At least I've got my man and my little bean. It's us against the world. :)

Cloth diapering distractions.

My cloth diapers for Ishod arrived today. I still don't have enough to do laundry less than once a day, but it's a great start.

I was super fortunate to receive about 20 CDs for annika of all different shapes and types, so I could experiment a ton before I made my decisions. OUt of those, only three brands really caught my eye and then I discovered only one could stand up to the heavy wetting night time-ness of my sweet little bean. Bumgenius, I love you.

Bumgenius, Happy Heinys, and Jamtotz turned out to be my three faves. Happy Heinys and Jamtotz were great, but they came in sizes, of which I only have larges, so I decided it would be more economical for me to go with an all in one which fits newborns to toddlers. Enter bumgenius, the amazing-est diaper you've ever seen. I really , really, love them, although they aren't as sturdy as I'd like. (I'm washing these guys every day)

Anyhoo.... once I figured out cloth diapering, I decided to cloth WIPE too... which has been an adventure all it's own. I have a stack of washrags and a big spray bottle of water, and it usually only takes one rag to wash her little bottom, even after the biggest poops. I'm actually, weirdly, soooo happy with CDing. I can't imagine going back now that I know how easy it is -- and fun!! The best part is that Annika tells me when she needs a change now, because she can feel it. Which is a great help for potty training.

THEN, I discovered Kushies. THey are the cheapo walmart version of CDing. I decided to try them out to replace the bumgenius I couldn't afford (I bought a 12 pack of bumgenius and then 10 Kushies for daytime use and "Around the house" use.) Who knew these would be so great? They are a TINY bit on the bulky side (although no where near as bad as they could be!) and definitely plasticy, but MAN. They work great, no leaks, and cost practically nothing compared to all the other All in ones I've seen. I'm totally in love with them and have decided to use only BumGenius and Kushies from here on out.

I know it's bizarre that I'm so into CDing, but I guarantee if you try it and like it you'll be as excited as I am... I'm like, waiting for the dryer to buzz so I can go arrange my piles of clean diapers in Annika's room, and constantly checking to see if she needs changing. Haha.
There's something really incredibly satisfying about a diaper changing station that has neat little piles of clean liners, covers, and washrags. plus the stuff they are made of these days is just the most amazing cottons..... so comfy and soft!!!

Who knows, I may get so into it I start using only Cloth menstrual pads and get rid of toilet paper altogether! Just kidding.
But I did read today about all of the creepy toxic chemicals they put in disposable diapers and I'm wishing that I would have known about cloths sooner. Its' really funny that my MIL and FIL and all the old people I know are like.... super surprised that I am Cloth diapering. Why on earth would I do that if I don't have to, they ask.
Then I show them the diapers and they just oooo and ah. It's awesome.


Anyways, can you tell I'm trying to distract myself from the pain? Hehe. It's totally working.

You silly little pickle, you silly little bean....

Sometimes Veggie Tales say it best:

Keep walking, but you won't knock down our wall.
Keep walking. But she isn't gonna to fall!
It's plain to see, your brains are very small...
To think walking, will be knocking down our wall.


I went to the midwife this morning fully in expectation that she would say: "Wow! Miracle of miracles! You are four centimeters, let's rush you to the hospital!"

But NOOOOOOoooooooOOOO. Instead, I was left to my own devices in a closet sized room for about a half hour to peruse the gigantic posters of the female reproductive system complete with way-too-graphic bubbles that explain the gory inner workings of your every day sexually transmitted diseases. Yum. After that, all I could think about was how weird it was that anyone, knowing that those things exist and you could possibly catch them, would want to do anything but abstain from sex until they had met and married someone who was as free of those as they were. Basically, I decided I was no longer in support of any type of sex ed other than forcing teenagers to sit and stare at charts like these for long periods of time.

I also noted with great sadness how many times the chart said: "Women experience more discomfort. Only women may show symptoms. Women are at higher risk. Etc, etc." Women really get rolled when it comes to STDs. Half of them, men aren't even aware they are carrying! I had my bible with me and I noted how many times the Lord reminds women to be chaste. Purity is a hugely stressed biblical theme for women--- gee, I wonder why. The whole experience made me so incredibly grateful that God protected me through all the insanity of my teenage and college years.

Anyways, the midwife checked me and told me I was..... still 2 cm. Not even 3 yet. WHAT?????
When she saw the visibly distressed-- almost crying-- look on my face, she immediately moved into the "let's see what could be happening here" phase, which consisted of some very well placed questions: "Does it hurt mostly here?" (pushes on my lower belly pelvic region) DUh!
She suggested wearing a maternity belt to get some of the pressure off my bladder and pelvic region since baby's head is now fully engaged. She then spent about twenty minutes apologizing for hurting me as she poked, cranked, and prodded me with large cotton swabs and wierd metal scrap-y objects. She took the resulting tissues and swipes to her office to look under a microscope and returned rejoicing: "You have a bacterial infection that is causing the contractions to be stronger than they really are!"

well, that's great. But what does that mean? It means that though the contractions are PRODUCTIVE in the sense that they are opening my cervix, they are not as strong as the pain they are producing in me on the painscale. I've just been blessed with the ability to experience very strong contractions while NOT having very strong contractions. Weeee.

She prescribed me an antibiotic of some kind which will clear up the infection, which should make the contractions more tolerable until ACTUAL hard labor begins. This gives me some semblance of hope that I will be in a little less pain and thus able to recuperate so that I can re-strengthen for ACTUAL labor. (I read in a magazine today that the best prep for a good labor was to be well rested. Good news for someone who hasn't had more than four hours sleep a night since October!! I also read that one doctor often explains to husbands that it is similar to being forced to push a grand piano across a room with no help, thus explaining all the huffing and puffing and yelling.)
With that in mind, she also prescribed me a painkiller which I'm going to break down and take so that I can sleep at night...she says that it will knock me out and I'm at the point where I'm ok with that.

I'm going to pick up some acidophilus to avoid the usual repercussions of taking antibiotics and I'm also going to spend a good deal of time just connecting with Ishod and trying to work with him to get this process over with, to minimize the post-delivery problems I enjoyed last time (and they were really, really fun) being made worse by the amount of time it's taking to get him out.

Mostly, I'm just going to rest in the arms of my Savior.

My labor is like the energizer bunny....

So I'm pressing on....


Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus going on before.
Christ, the royal Master, leads against the foe;
Forward into battle see His banners go!

Refrain

Onward, Christian soldiers, marching as to war,
With the cross of Jesus going on before.

At the sign of triumph Satan’s host doth flee;
On then, Christian soldiers, on to victory!
Hell’s foundations quiver at the shout of praise;
Brothers lift your voices, loud your anthems raise.

Refrain

Like a mighty army moves the church of God;
Brothers, we are treading where the saints have trod.
We are not divided, all one body we,
One in hope and doctrine, one in charity.

Refrain

What the saints established that I hold for true.
What the saints believèd, that I believe too.
Long as earth endureth, men the faith will hold,
Kingdoms, nations, empires, in destruction rolled.

Refrain

Crowns and thrones may perish, kingdoms rise and wane,
But the church of Jesus constant will remain.
Gates of hell can never gainst that church prevail;
We have Christ’s own promise, and that cannot fail.

Refrain

Onward then, ye people, join our happy throng,
Blend with ours your voices in the triumph song.
Glory, laud and honor unto Christ the King,
This through countless ages men and angels sing.

Refrain

knitting for comfort

knitting for comfort I'm loving these baby legwarmers I've made up. The first one is nearly done and they look so cute on her fat little legs. I pause between rib stitches to contract and I sit in my favorite chair... thinking there is nothing in the world more wonderful than knitting on a cold day for my family. :)

It took 24 hours for Wayne to come around to talking to me, but I'm so glad he did. We had an incredible talk and we were able to hit the core issues at the heart of why there was such a strong reaction to something so meaningless. Once we had hashed out our situation, I realized just how deeply the WAY I look to my husband affects him.... right down to his sense of confidence. The root was a faith issue, but it was incredible to see how much my own reactions to his faith issue were causing him heartache and anxiety.

I explained to him my view of protection: why HE needs authority over him just as much as I need authority over me, and the cycle of protection that God affords each of us. I explained that I believed that just as we wives have never married a man we find nothing wrong with (we're all sinners!) , he as a husband would never find a church to submit to that he would find nothing wrong with. But if we operate within the appropriate structures, we ARE protected. Which is what this whole crisis was all about. how amazing that all week God was preparing me to understand this exact system of protection that he provides, and all this so that at my husband's most vulnerable moment, I would be prepared to share it with him. God is so good.

I know I'm being kind of vague, but suffice to say that, as expected, taking the route of biblical submission in this case really enabled him to open up to me and share intimately the turmoil in his soul, which God had prepared me to bring healing for! God is soooooo amazing.

Anyways. Still no more than 12 mins apart. This is starting to just be... life. I'm going to the doc's again on Monday am. They wont induce me before my due date, but maybe they can help somehow. We'll see.

Some things I've learned today.

The mouth of the righteous is a well of life, but violence covers the mouth of the wicked. Hatred stirs up strife but love covers all sins.
Proverbs 10:11-12.

Our mouths sure do get us into a ton of trouble, don't they?

I'm always saying how as soon as I make a bold statement for something I believe in my blog, or in public, I'm immediately allowed to go into a period of testing about it. Well, as if things haven't been crazy enough around here, I'm right there in that testing period and it's driving me into a wall that only prayer and some time with my Savior can help me to destroy.

I said yesterday in my blog that I was frustrated that people a) make judgements about my family based on their limited scope of observation or their own personal likes/dislikes and b) reprove my husband by talking to ME about it instead of bringing it to him, which causes all types of turmoil and doubt in myself and my emotions, on which I don't want to rely. During the course of the last 48 hours or so I've really come to figure out which of the issues we've been having based on other people's perceptions of what our family life should look like need to be resolved, and which ones I need to let go of.

I'm not worried about any of them, and I'm grateful for the scripture that tells us to get the log out of our own eye first, because I'm of the opinion that we are ALL sinners and each one of us have to go ahead and be humbled and demonstrate repentance in whatever areas we need to assume responsibility for. In the eyes of the Lord, the Word says, sin is sin. It all leads to death and destruction. An abusive husband is no worse than a husband who is addicted to pornography or a wife who nags and disrespects. You know? We're all miserable sinners who, but by the grace of God, deserve our own little parking space in hell.

Anyways, today Wayne was super uptight. He's getting really tired of this labor thing (HA!!! At least he's not the one going through it) and to top it off it's causing us difficulties financially (he hasn't been to work all week so he could be around to help me) and emotionally, because I'm really resisting his desire to hurry this baby up by asking me to walk alot, eat spicy foods, etc. To top it off, yesterday during Annika's shots he had to hold her down because of the live virus danger for me, and he ended up getting really sick today.
It's really frustrating going through all of this for both of us.

I mean, I'm all for this experience being over, BELIEVE ME. But I just feel as though this baby isn't ready and I'm OK with waiting on God's perfect timing. I was relieved when my doc agreed yesterday in my desperate AM phone call to help me end this pain that my body needs more preparation time than other people's bodies, mostly because as my old OB pointed out, I'm pretty "narrow" and thus need a lot of wiggle room to be created for the baby to come out. That's why Annika took so long and that's apparently why Ishod is taking so long.
Anyways, he took me to the store to buy me Wasabi covered peanuts. (yes, I'm serious) and I ended up getting ticked off at how much he's rushing this, flipping out, and accidentally spilling them all over the car and under his feet while he was trying to drive, which caused a huge blowout between us.
Yep, we're that frustrated and exhausted. Peanuts are causing a marriage problem. :P

Anyways, I'm the first to admit my initial reaction was just a nightmare. Let's just say, my tongue was out of control and I needed to lasso it in. Then I got so mad at HIS reaction that I started to think ungodly thoughts about him and really prepared to let him have it. Fortunately, we had to stop at the pharmacy to get Annika's medecine, and that helped us to get away from each other long enough to reflect. Trouble is, I was over it about ten seconds through the pharmacy line. And he's still brooding, six hours later.

Now, the only reason I'm sharing this is because it is, of course, so fitting for the topic at hand yesterday. I mean, at what point do you draw the line and say: hey, husband, get it together, you're being a jerk? And how does that fit in with submission?

In sharing this example with you, I'm hoping to help a lot of the submission "critics" who read my blog gain an understanding of what the appropriate biblical response to your husband acting like a butthat may be. (believe me, ladies, there are days where I'm the one acting totally wrong... I've simply accepted my part of this responsibility and am waiting now for the resulting peace to come back over the home.)

Anyways, one of my favorite authors puts it like this: If your husband was wrong, and sixty percent of that caused the problem, your reaction to that was still forty percent of the whole wrong. Own up to your forty percent. Repent for your part. You can't repent for him and you can't change him, but you CAN choose to honor God by repenting for your part AND obeying His commandment to CHOOSE to love your husband and respect him DESPITE his wrongness.

Determined to live it out, I fully repented of my forty. Lord, forgive me for cursing him, harboring hate and anger in my heart and allowing it to spill out of my tongue. Forgive me for my lack of control and poor example in front of my daughter. For thinking unbiblical thoughts about him and our marriage. Etc. etc. I was at it for a while. :P

Then, having received forgiveness, I prayed for him, from the Word. Lord, let his mouth be a well of life. Let him love knowledge AND correction. Give him agape love for ME in my wrong doings. Etc, etc. And I prayed for me: Help me to love and respect him and be KIND to him despite what I feel like doing. (which was, actually, to shove that box of wasabi peanuts where the sun don't shine, you know?)

Anyways, it really restored PEACE and SANITY to me on my end. I was talking to a friend on the phone a little while later while I made dinner and shared my struggle with her. It's super important, when dealing with the submission issue, to remember that a man needs to be a LEADER, a PROTECTOR, and a PROVIDER. Those are his callings in response to our submission calling. I may be going over board with these all caps, but bear with me, I'm exhausted. :P When your man forgets one of those three things, he aint acting in his capacity as family leader, he's just, quite simply, wrong.

Anyways, so tonight I'm writing this blog to share my reaction, which I hope will help those of you who read this and STRUGGLE With submission to see what type of a reaction we are to have to our husbands. At this point, he still hasn't shown a shred of repentance or even demonstrated that he's interested in communicating about what happened. However, I'm choosing to obey God's commandments to love and respect him by responding with kindness. Just because HE's being wrong, doesn't mean I have to be too, you know? And I want to be clear, I'm not sharing this to uncover my husband but so that it can be a learning experience for other wives who read this blog and wonder just how all this submission stuff works.

And while in my flesh, I'm SO irritated that in the midst of all this labor craziness I have to deal with this and I'm pretty much blaming his attitude, in my Spirit I am renewed with the hope that tomorrow I'll be writing you a blog that describes the FRUIT of submission, which is joy. Because I am so joyful that I was able to catch my "forty percent" right away, instead of after the fact. It sets my relationship with my GOD, which is infinitely more important than my relationship with my husband (although, let me tell you, I can't WAIT to be reconciled!! I miss him and love him and hate fighting!) in a proper place.

Incidentally, if tomorrow he's still being lame, I'm going to use that as an example of how to give a biblical reproof. Basically, because we are both believers we both need to be keeping each other from sin. I help him, he helps me. And when I help him, there's a WAY the Bible says to do it, which I am to follow if I want to maintain my biblical integrity.

Thank the Lord for his strength and His amazing love, and for my husband, without whom I would never be learning all these incredible things. He is so dear to me.