Learning from the Amish

I have often wondered if I could be Amish. I love horses and chickens, and the idea of taking from the land only what you put into it. And though I know Amish living is not as charming as I imagine it to be, I see the traditions the Amish pass down and the beautiful, quality work they do, and I admire them for it. I long for their simplicity of life, their singular focus, and their discipline. 

But does it take something as drastic as ditching my jeans for a skirt and bonnet to achieve that life? No, of course not. God is not limited like that. And who says I can't strive for those things, even while driving a minivan or typing on a computer?! Oh, so many questions!

A few weeks back, my sister-in-law recommended to me a book aptly titled Almost Amish. The author, Nancy Sleeth, is a suburban mother of two who also asked herself these questions. She found the answers among the Amish (and their cousins, the Mennonites) but they were not the answers she had expected to find. This is what she writes in her introduction:

What [the Amish] all share are a respect for tradition, a desire to make conscious decisions about 'progress,' and a belief that Scripture should guide every action-- not just for a few hours on Sunday, but in our homes and throughout the week.

The more she learned about the Amish, the more she discovered that there are reasons for their rules about no-electricity and no-cars. They choose not to "go with the flow" in order to go with God's flow, and to maintain a lifestyle that is not encumbered with unnecessary things in order to keep their eyes on God.

Sleeth, who spent considerable time among the Amish, gives many examples of Amish wisdom. One such example explains why the Amish choose not to use electricity, and reveals that the Amish is not all about prohibiting themselves and living a severely spartan life.

One of the first things you notice about Amish communities is that their homes are not hooked up to power lines. This is because the Amish do not want to be dependent on networks. The specific guidelines for the use of electricity vary from community to community. Old Order Amish, for example, forbid electricity from public utility lines but allow electricity from batteries. In some settlements, batteries are used to power calculators, fans, flashlights, copy machines, and computers. In other communities, solar energy is used to charge batteries, operate electric fences, and power household appliances. Why this distinction between power lines and batteries? Because electricity from batteries is more local and controllable; moreover, its use requires the virtues of forethought and restraint, which the Amish value highly.

Other virtues discussed in the book are simplicity, frugality, community, service, and security in God, and every example is supported by Bible passages, emphasizing that the Amish ways are founded on God's wisdom, not man's wisdom. If you have been feeling lost in "stuff" and overburdened by schedules and life in general, I recommend this book to you.

So, I don't need to move from my California suburb to a Pennsylvania farm to achieve the life God has intended for me. And I know myself well enough to know that if I became Amish, my biggest fault would be growing too legalistic. The better alternative for me is to become almost Amish and to make the necessary changes in my life, but not for the sake of the planet, not to live by a code, and not to shock others around me to make a point. It is about the underlying Biblical principles, and honoring God in every aspect of my life.

Judge Not

Raise your hand if you have had a complete stranger scold your child in public.

(I raise my hand.)

Raise your hand if you have had a complete stranger scold your child, then you, in public.

(I raise my hand.)

My family went to see our friend Beth play in a concert last Friday. Though it was a later night than usual for the kids, we knew they would enjoy going to a theater and hearing live music played by a symphonic band.

All went well for the first two songs. Then the toddler started getting comfortable, saying 'hi' to everyone and playing peek-a-boo with the people in front of us. Most people didn't mind when they saw the adorable dimpled girl smiling at them, but one lady gave us a nasty look.

It was time to go for a 'walk'. My husband grabbed our youngest and took her into the lobby. I thought everything was fine, until intermission, when the lady who had given us a nasty look turned and told my daughters not to kick the chairs. I happened to hear her from where I sat (five seats away) and thought it would be okay, because I do believe that discipline should not only come from parents. But then the woman said it again (and not in a kind, gentle way), and before I could do anything, she turned to me and scolded me. I was caught off guard! And I was probably blushing like a beet!

My husband returned, and I told him we were leaving. We missed the rest of the concert, and my evening was ruined. All the way home, my mind could not rest. My girls weren't sitting behind this lady, and they weren't kicking the seats, at least not intentionally. I was mad at her rudeness and the injustice of the situation and wanted to say mean-spirited things to her, like, "I'm sorry if my daughters were kicking your seat, but at least at their age, they know how to talk to people more kindly."

But the more I thought about it, the more I remembered Jesus's words, "Love your neighbor as yourself." In fact, Jesus takes it even further, saying that we should love our enemies.

Was this woman really my enemy? Yes, in my heart, I felt that she was. I felt attacked. I didn't like the way she judged my family and me. And I wanted to judge her and label her as a crotchety old lady who did not understand children. I wanted to do whatever it took to paint her in a bad light and make me feel better.

But Jesus also said, "Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judge, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you. Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye." (Matthew 7:1-5)

When I put my girls to bed that night, my mind was still reeling. I asked my oldest daughter if the unjust situation had made her feel bad. She shrugged. Then I gave her a cliche talk about 'grumpy people' and 'just walking away'. But this is what I should have said:

That woman, even though we don't know her, is our neighbor. We don't know why she didn't like us... maybe she didn't want any noise at the concert, maybe she had a really bad day, but whatever it was, she is still our neighbor. And Jesus told us to treat her the way we would like to be treated, and He told us to love people even when they are not kind to us. No matter what, we need to treat her with kindness, understanding and forgiveness. 

Which is much harder than saying I should have stood up for my children, or I should have explained the situation, or told the women to scold either the children or me, but not both. Because any of those actions could easily be justified with anger or pride, but they could not have easily been done in love.

Sometimes I wish I was more witty and out-spoken, sometimes I wish I was more bold, but always, always, I wish I was more loving. So here I am, taking the plank out of my eye. And though there will still be times when my family gets nasty looks or rude comments from people, I will try to love and forgive as Jesus did.

With Open Hands

It is a constant struggle for us, as moms, wives, and pastor's wives to make time for everyone and everything... It's a loneliness that I know will someday be filled, maybe when I'm less tied to the hearth, or maybe in heaven.

This was my written response to a friend who was apologizing for not making more time for me. She is also a pastor's wife, and the mother of a three-year-old, and so we are in the same season-- the season of never being alone, but sometimes feeling lonely. 

God is not ignorant of this. I have seen Him offer gifts of friendship to me, like an invitation to a mid-week Bible study with other moms. But the time of the meeting was during the nap time, and I was not willing to mess up the baby's nap schedule. Or when I was invited to the women's overnight retreat, but I turned that down, because the baby was still nursing. Both were legitimate reasons, and I know that this comes with the territory of having children. But sometimes, when I thought I was making choices, I was really making excuses. 

Like when a friend said "Come on over!" and I said no because it took more effort to pack up the kids and drive than to stay home. Or when someone offered to help me, and I said no because I didn't want to "inconvenience" anyone with "my" work. God was offering me gifts, but because I was still gripping to my routine, my schedule, my convenience, or my pride, I could not accept them.

But this week, God taught me to open my hands. When my friend Beth offered to come and help me with anything I needed help with, I hesitated at first, then said, "I guess you can help me sweep the backyard and trim the vines." And she did just that! What a wonderful time it was yesterday, working in the yard with Beth, my children, and my sister, and then enjoying dinner together! And when my sister-in-law called the other day and said, "Come on over!" I looked at my watch and figured that I could push dinner back by fifteen minutes or so and squeeze in a short visit with my in-laws. And when my friend, the one who had apologized for not having time for our friendship, e-mailed and said she could come over at 1:30, I didn't write back, "No, that's nap time." I said "Okay!", even if it meant a tired me and a shorter nap for my toddler.

We often get used to our ways. We want the familiar, we want the predictable, and we want specific answers to our prayer needs. But God knows our needs better than we do, and if we can let go of our expectations of God, we can accept His gifts. And I'm so glad I opened my hands to Him, because though I'm tired today, I'm more joyful than I have been in a long time.

The Years Are Short

My husband and eldest son left today for our church's men's retreat. What makes this retreat unique is that the men will be fellowshipping and encouraging each other while working alongside each other, fixing up the ranch that is our church's main retreat center.

It's the first time I've felt the pang of my son's growing up. I've been preparing myself for it, whenever I dropped him off at a sleepover, watched him mow the lawn, listened to him talk about his new interests. But, like giving birth for the first time, nothing can really prepare you for that day.

It's true, the saying: The days are long but the years are short.

I remember how my son grew in me, and how it felt so natural when he was born to love him and care for him. I remember teaching him to walk, to talk, to ride a tricycle. I remember the day he had surgery, and how nervous I was, and the day a kid at the park bullied him, and I watched with pride as he fought back his tears and stood his ground. And I remember when he accepted Jesus, and made choices like getting rid of his Pokemon cards and reading better books. And I remember the times I didn't know how to connect with him, how to teach him, how to reason with him, or how to make him laugh. 

How gracious God has been, to lead us to this point in life, because there is so much that depends on trusting God wholly. Like I shared in my last post, you can only do so much as a parent. How much control do we have? When a day goes well, I'm only fooling myself into believing that I have a hold on life. 

These are the best things: pray, obey, and trust. Wherever we are lacking (which is everywhere for me), He fills in the gaps. In fact, He fills in MORE than the gaps. And I am so thankful that He does.

This is my newest song, inspired by my children. May the words be an encouragement to you, fellow mothers and fathers.

At the break of dawn

There are growling stomachs 
And hungry mouths to feed

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner

I'm working in the kitchen

Day in, day out

Clothes are dirty once again

They don't stop spinning round and round

They spin round and round

Messes made on every surface, mop and wipe

Day in, day out

When my eyes are open, I see the bigger picture

When my eyes are open, I see the bigger me

Once so small and helpless,

Then in the blink of an eye, they're talking

And running through the house

In the midst of teaching

There are reasons to laugh

Joy in, joy out

Lessons change as they grow

Deeper talk of deeper things

It's much harder now
Oh so much harder now

Shaping women and men from these girls and boys

Grace in, grace out

When my eyes are open, I see the little details

When my eyes are open, I see their little hearts

Shouting matches, hurtful words

Angry tears, bitter pouts

I am on my knees praying to my Father

Love in, love out

Open my eyes to see the bigger picture

Open my eyes to see the bigger me

Open my eyes to see the little details

Open my eyes to see their little hearts

Day in, day out

How I Blew it on Mother's Day

Yesterday, my family made me breakfast in bed, we went out for Chinese food for dinner, and we made a little video with my children rising up around me and calling me 'blessed' (see Proverbs 31:28 if you are confused). It felt good to be honored. It felt good to take a break from the usual, get a long nap, and stop spinning my plates for just one day.

But, even on a day set aside to make me feel special, I am no one special. I am not a perfect mom. I am not even a good mom, some of the time. I blew my fuse completely yesterday morning when the baby (oops, I mean 'toddler') got into some lipstick and marked her face and clothes up with a deep brown red, just as I was heading out the door for church. I spent fifteen minutes grumbling and yelling and scrubbing at the shirt and my daughter's face, and felt that I deserved better on Mother's Day. 

But do I?

Ann Voskamp, author of One Thousand Gifts (which I haven't read, but heard many good things about), wrote this on her site: 

God wants Prodigal Parents, not perfect parents.

We are living in an exciting time. I say this because I feel that grace-full parenting is being taught in ways that it had not been taught before, with books like Grace-Based Parenting by Tim Kimmel and Shepherding a Child's Heart by Tedd Tripp. The generations before us equated being 'Christian' with 'having your act together'. Children needed to look and act a certain way, because the behavior of the child reflected on his/her parent. With a parent's reputation balanced precariously on the choices his/her children made, we now have Christians with the misconceived idea that their Heavenly Father carries a giant rule book and a whip.

This is exactly the opposite of the Gospel message! God offers us His love as a gift! He offers us forgiveness for all our failures! He sent His Son because He knew we would never have our 'act together'! He wants us to live lives full of grace, trusting in His Sovereignty and Power to do what we cannot do.

Like being perfect parents. I know of wonderful Christian men and women who have seen their child make hurtful choices. And I have seen these same men and women humbly admit that they don't have all the answers, while continuing to love their child through the tough stuff. Sometimes the child comes to know Christ in a deep and wonderful way. Sometimes, the parents pray until their dying day. And that's what it comes down to: knowing Christ is a personal choice that is a matter of the heart. A parent cannot do that for a child, no matter how hard he/she tries. 

Which leads us to this truth:

We are all in the same boat.

And that boat is sinking, no matter what we do. It is only by God's grace buoying us up that we are not all drowned. It is because I have been shown grace that I can do the same for my children. And that I do not have to put on a facade everyday in front of my children, pretending that I always know what I am doing. 

I did apologize to my children for being a bad role model yesterday. They were gracious enough to forgive me.

Meet My Toddler

Wow, my baby is growing up faster than I can imagine. Having four siblings to mimic, she has quickly learned to how to be a 'big kid': with a reach like Elasti-girl, she grabs a knife and tries to cut her own food; she loves to help load and empty the dishwasher (whether the dishes are dirty or clean); she plays and sings a song at the piano, then claps for herself; she flips a switch and turns a light or fan off and on (and off and on, and off and on...). Yesterday, she learned from her brother how to exclaim "Ididit, Mama!" (and she says it just like that, as if it was all one word) and she loves to say "yesh!"

But my easy-going and agreeable child still has moments of stubbornness and defiance. Other children say "no!" when a parent says "yes"; my child says "yesh!" when I say "no". Which is a problem when a spunky 19-month-old who thinks she's three insists on cutting with scissors. She's still as 'cute as a button', but sometimes her actions are not so cute anymore. Yesterday, she hit her brother on the head with a big yellow die, and I don't mean one of those fuzzy squishy dice. When I tried to stop her from hitting him again, she smacked me on the head with the plastic die! I held her hand and gave her a sharp "No!", and that was enough to bring down the corners of her petite mouth and start the water works. I'm glad that at this point, a quick reprimand is enough to cause regret.

Though I still want to cuddle and coddle her like a baby, my youngest knows better, and I can't always treat her like a baby anymore. I have to remind myself that discipline starts now, even at this young age. And though I don't want to be the cause of her tears, I know that she sometimes must learn through her tears in order to mature.

More Beauty

When I say "more beauty", I am not talking about getting a make-over, a face lift, a new wardrobe, or a new 'do. That is beauty as defined by People Magazine. I am talking about Beauty as defined by God. The difference is that God's definition is eternal, and not found in the shape, the color, or the emotion of the thing (or person). Instead, it is found in the way the thing (or person) reflects God, because it is not the object itself but its beautiful Maker that makes it beautiful. A single flower, the vast ocean, a new born baby, an elderly man, are all Beautiful because we see in them the face and fingerprints of their Creator. A simple song, a conversation over dinner, a walk with a child, are all Beautiful because they remind us of that "other place", the place where Love lives. 

In The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis writes:

The books or the music in which we thought the beauty was located will betray us if we trust to them; it was not in them, it only came through them, and what came through them was longing. These things-- the beauty, the memory of our own past-- are good images of what we really desire; but if they are mistaken for the thing itself they turn into dumb idols, breaking the hearts of their worshippers. For they are not the thing itself; they are only the scent of a flower we have not found, the echo of a tune we have not heard, news from a country we have never yet visited.

Lately, I had been feeling weary. I blamed lack of sleep, the weight of responsibilities, little time with friends, but what I was really lacking was Beauty. I had forgotten to see God around me, to take time to bask in His glory, and to enjoy Him. I was living without being alive.

But as I took Communion yesterday, I was reminded that God provides us with all we need: the bread, which is what sustains us physically, and the wine, which is what makes life enjoyable. We need both to truly live. To quote C.S. Lewis again, "We do not want merely to see beauty... we want something else which can hardly be put into words-- to be united with the beauty we see, to pass into it, to receive it into ourselves, to bathe in it, to become part of it."

I need more Beauty in my life. But how to achieve this? I asked myself. Is there something I need to do more of, or something I need to cut out of my life? It's a fine line, because it is not really about what I do, but what I choose to focus on as I'm doing it. A doctor can heal without "seeing" his patients, and painter can paint without loving the subject. The only way to gain more Beauty in my life is to slow down and intentionally look, which means when I'm watering the vegetable plants, I stop to ponder on God's creativity and wonder how life comes from a tiny seed. When I'm teaching my children, I look into their faces and cherish them as their Heavenly Father cherishes them. When I sit down to dinner, I'm not thinking about the dishes, or checking off another meal from my to-do list, but I am enjoying the food and the people around the table. Otherwise, my work has become one of those "dumb idols", and I have lost my connection with the Maker of Beauty.

To quote C.S. Lewis yet again, I will close with this passage from Till We Have Faces, "The sweetest thing in all my life has been the longing-- to reach the Mountain, to find the place where all the beauty came from-- my country, the place where I ought to have been born."

What a wonderful way to remind myself to keep my eyes on God as I continue on this journey of serving Him through homeschooling, homemaking, loving my husband, and loving my community.

An Ode to My Mother-in-Law

When it comes to decorating, she has a special touch,

She's careful of the details for holidays and such.

And though I'm not much like her (I'm not into frills and lace)

She understands our differences and gives our family space.

But she makes herself available to lend a helping hand

As babysitter, teacher, or an audience for our band.

She is an exceptional person, in fact she's my husband's mother,

And when I married my dear friend, I knew I gained another!

After a month of heavy writing, I was at a loss for the subject of my next blog post. Then after chatting with my mother-in-law on the phone yesterday, I was inspired! Really, how often do you read something positive about mother-in-laws?!

My mother-in-law (which I will shorten to MIL) and I are almost as different as night and day. She likes crystal and china, sea green and peach. I like rustic wood and clay pots, crimson and purple. I'm always creating, and she says she's not creative at all (though I like to argue otherwise). But we both love art, music, nature, and homeschooling, and underneath it all, our foundation is Christ, and I am thankful for that. Though we may see things very differently sometimes, I know that her goal is the same as mine: that our family seeks God first.

Over the years, I have learned to care for and love my MIL. (side note: At first, I thought it would be fun to call my mother-in-law "Milly", and my father-in-law "Filly", my sisters-in-law "Silly" and my brothers-in-law "Billy", but that was short-lived. Now I just call them by their names.) I will go with her to a tea party, just for her (again, going back to wisdom from my previous post, "Two Stories"). I allow her to share special moments with a grandchild, without feeling jealous of my child's affections. It has been my privilege to watch her grow as her children became parents, as her own parents entered a stage of needing more assistance, as her husband retired, and as a family member passed away. And I remind myself that she was once the main-caretaker of her son, the one who knew almost every detail of his life, and that she must miss that. 

And my MIL has done her part to make our relationship healthy too. She knows she can drop by anytime, but she also knows that we have school in the morning and activities in the afternoon. She tells me if she's planning to purchase something big for the children, to avoid redundancy and 'stepping-on-toes'. She has taught me how to make a house a home, how to make memories with my children, and how to make guests feel comfortable. And she has also come to understanding that I am not a mini-version of her, and that the family unit I am building with my husband will not look like a replica of her family, and that's okay. 

We all know that mother-in-laws have a bad reputation. After doing a quick Internet search, I found a website where people can post their mother-in-law "horror stories", read mother-in-law jokes, and purchase items that say 'I hate my mother-in-law'. Another website gave tips to mother-in-laws, most of which I feel don't apply to my relationship with my MIL. For those looking for advice on a Godly mother/daughter-in-law relationship, there is not much out there. But there is this, which I read this morning: 

Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. ~Ephesians 4:2-3 (NIV)

God hand-picked the people in my family, and that includes my MIL. We've had our share of disputes (she did have to live with me for a year, after all) and though she is not perfect, then again, neither am I. I have much to learn about loving people, and someday, when my boys are grown, I too may become a MIL to a young woman. When that day comes, I hope I am ready. I hope I remember how gracious my MIL was to me, and how I felt as a young bride and mother. Because there is no relationship quite like this one: mother, daughter, family, and friend.


(Pssst... Mother's Day is coming soon on May 12th. How will you honor your MIL this year?)