Missed Ya!

Sorry that took so long.

We’re back into the swing of things after a few weeks of having and then getting to know our new baby:


She’s in good health, and so am I. My doctor said she has me down in her book as the “fastest c-section recovery ever”. Guess that makes me some kind of winner. Where’s the prize for that? I’ve been told it’s because I “must be one tough lady”, and maybe that’s part of it, but it’s even more because I’m too restless and distracted to lie around and recover in a more leisurely, sedate fashion. Never did know how to behave myself.

C-section tip: Try getting up and moving around, sitting in a chair instead of the bed to eat those abysmal hospital meals, showering, changing the diapers, etc., as soon as you recover feeling in your legs. You get better faster if you just face the pain and get it over with. Besides, the morphine they give with the spinal wears off after 24 hours, and if you wait that long to get up, it will hurt more the first time you move, not less. Don’t overdo it, though. Rest as much as you can between all the self- and baby-care.

The surgery itself: I don’t want to scare anybody, so I’ll say the reassuring part first: Most c-sections are completely painless, just weird, so don’t be afraid! My first three were textbook, perfect, no pain. But! Did you know that sometimes the spinal doesn’t numb you as far up your body as necessary? I was sure they were trying to stuff the baby into my chest toward the end there. Perhaps they were using my spleen as a stress-ball. Sure felt like it. I would have preferred any amount of labor pain over that experience.

The baby was well worth it, of course. Her siblings are over the moon for her, and Jesse and I have to fight the kids for our turn to hold her.

Paying the bills: Samaritan Ministries pulled through for us again, like they always do. Because they pre-publish some types of needs, including maternity, we already have the cash on hand to pay most of the bills. I love this way of doing health care! It seems the financial people at the hospital are learning about sharing plans, because I didn’t have to explain it this time.

Back to school this week. We were getting bored. No sense taking a whole month off if we don’t have to, right? No idea how much time there will be for blogging, but I feel the itch, so stay tuned!


Gone Fishin’

I took a vacation. It was really nice. I think I’ll have another. See you…sometime!

(UPDATE 9/30/15) Like, I don’t even know when I’ll be back. Miss Baby will be here in 4 weeks, maximum. The end of a pregnancy is, for me, a time to lower the shades, stop inviting company over, fill the freezer with, er, tater tot casseroles, and line a box in the closet with old rags. I get cranky and piss-offy, like a mama cat about to deliver her litter. You really wouldn’t want to read anything I have to write right now. I’ve discovered that I am hormonally incapable of interaction with commenters (especially those who disagree, but really, all of you, GIT!) in the last few posts, and what good is a blog without those? So I will return, hopefully with baby pictures, eventually.

How, Then, Shall We Parent?

Warning: This post contains no formula for raising “good” kids who won’t embarrass you in front of your church friends. 

So, I guess the people who like character “training” and systems of behavior reinforcement just don’t care to chat about it, because the comments and emails about my last assault on this homeschooling stronghold went mostly positive, with an asterisk. (Actually, it’s more likely that they just don’t read this blog. Few do.)

While those of us in this community of, like, fourteen readers plus me seem to be in agreement that score-keeping is not the way we should show our children how to follow Christ, some readers were feeling hung out to dry, as if there were a great, blank space behind the curtain we just ripped down, with nothing to replace it. There’s no need to feel abandoned, though I guess I understand how we might. Here we’ve been thinking that great results are ours for the obtaining, and now we’re starting to see that, while we might through rigorous effort teach our children to feel good about acting good, we can’t even regenerate a wilted piece of lettuce, let alone the souls of our babies.

We knew that, of course, having our Bibles handy like good Christians ought to, but we had been behaving as if it weren’t so.

It was kind of surprising to me how many mothers said something to the effect that “I see what you mean, but I don’t know what to replace this kind of training with. I don’t know how to lead my children without relying on these outward things.” It surprised me, because the answer is contained within the question.

It’s not up to you to make your kids holy, so quit meddling!

Hold on a minute, though. We have instruction from scripture to discipline our children, and teach them not just what not to do, but what to do. So I’m not suggesting that being a spiritually involved parent is the same thing as meddling. The difference is in what scripture says is the right way to teach them, rather than systems and traditions that satisfy our fleshly desire to prove that we and our children are getting it right.

And what does scripture say? The same thing it has always said, teach your children to follow the Way, not as a school subject, or a means of gaining favor with God, or a way of obtaining earthly reward, but as Truth, which must not, even in the absence of approval or reward from others, be abandoned. Teach them only that

“…thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine heart, and with all thy soul, and with all thy might.”

And these words, which I command thee this day, shall be in thine heart: And thou shalt teach them diligently unto thy children, and shalt talk of them when thou sittest in thine house, and when thou walkest by the way, and when thou liest down, and when thou risest up. And thou shalt bind them for a sign upon thine hand, and they shall be as frontlets between thine eyes. And thou shalt write them upon the posts of thy house, and on thy gates.–Deuteronomy 6: 5-9″

These words shall be where? In thine heart. Let your focus be in your own heart, parents, not your children’s hidden selves, the motives of which your eyes can’t discern. We can teach our children the truth without manipulating their behavior by simply following what scripture has given us to do.

Read them the Word.

…Faith comes from hearing, and hearing by the word of Christ. –Romans 10:17

But they’re so small they can’t understand the Word, you say? Oh, ye of little faith. Of course they can’t.

They didn’t understand their names, or the words “I love you” the first time you said them, either, but you still used them until they did. You used these words because they are true, not because they could understand them! Likewise, read them the Word every day. Keep reading until they do understand it. There’s no magical moment at which it is now, finally, at long last useful to rely on God’s Word to teach them. Lean not to your own understanding in this, waiting for the day that you’re able to see that they can understand it.

Saving faith comes through the hearing of the Word. So do that.

Apply the Word. Again, even when they don’t understand–or when you think they can’t understand–everything you are doing with the Word in your daily life will grow them. Of course, this requires you to be knowledgeable in the Word yourself. No one else, and certainly no character curriculum, can do that for you.

Building a foundation is a brick-by-brick process, and you will not see the whole wall built all at once. That doesn’t excuse delaying the laying of the first lonely brick, just because you don’t know when the next one will be ready. Apply the Word early, and daily, and with faith that it will accomplish its purpose.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven, And do not return there without watering the earth And making it bear and sprout, And furnishing seed to the sower and bread to the eater; So will My word be which goes forth from My mouth; It will not return to Me empty, Without accomplishing what I desire, And without succeeding in the matter for which I sent it. –Isaiah 55:11

Discipline them. Yes, progressive parents, even in the New Covenant, we have both the authority and its attendant duty to punish wrong-doing in order to model the eternal truth of God’s wrath toward sin. What is the most common argument against the love of God? The one I hear most, or at least very near the top, is “A loving God would never send someone to Hell over something so paltry as (insert sin of choice here).”

I suspect that people who can’t believe that love has anything to do with punishment do so because they have so rarely experienced consequences for sin from their own parents. At this stage of our dying civilization, I think that applies to a huge percentage of American “Christians”, as well as unbelievers. Because their parents were so reward-oriented, self-esteem building, works-encouraging, and extremely unwilling to punish (or even look for) wrong-doing in them, they remain unconvinced that there could even be any consequences if God really loves them. This is also the reason they so gleefully usher sinners into Hell, not only failing to warn them, but instead applauding them for embracing the sinful nature which “God gave them”.

They don’t believe in the reality of Judgment. Is that what you want for your children?

Disciplinary correction is not meant to be “behavior modification” or negative reinforcement, but is symbolic of the eternal wages of sin. We don’t discipline to get “results” or for revenge, but so that when the bad news of Hell and Wrath is presented, the Good News that Christ has made a way to save us from it will be believed as well.

(This is also why, if you’re feeling vengeful at the moment of offense, you shouldn’t discipline yet, but run away to your prayer closet and get clear of your own sin before you confront your child’s. Discipline must be cool-headed and fair, because it is not against us that our children sin, but against God. But it must not be neglected for the same reason. We have no right to overlook our children’s wrongs just because we are sinners ourselves. We’ve been placed in a position of authority, and that’s not for our own sake, or our own ends, but for His. But that’s another blog post.)

Finally, and most importantly, simply and without anxiety trust the Lord for your children’s salvation. The thing I think some are really having the most trouble grasping, is that this anxiety we have, this need to prove holiness is the leaven of the Pharisees that Christ warned his disciples about. It is failure to trust the Holy Spirit to provide not just physical bread, as the disciples were wont to do, but the Living Water that regenerates.

The trouble with this “trust” thing, for those who walk by sight, is that it seems so pitifully, helplessly passive. But it’s not passive. It’s an active waiting and hoping for the good that God has promised us. It’s a prayerful watching, and dutiful teaching, day after day.

The answer to misbehavior and sin is not to hover over our little ones, nervously trying to either catch them in sin or find them acting, for once, in good ways so that we can reinforce every positive or negative action, but instead to simply trust God to soften their hearts, and to clean the insides of those little cups, so that then the outsides will be clean also. Whether He does this before they turn all your hairs gray is–I’m sorry to break this to you, my friends–not within your control.

But don’t worry. Instead, believe.

Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved, you and your household. –Acts 16:31

Now, I have seen regenerate parents produce heart-breakingly unrepentant children, but as long as there is life, there is hope. So keep praying and hoping, no matter how old they are. Just Christ, and nothing more, is your hope for that child.

Despite all of our worry, the Gospel is sufficient to replace the dead letter of the Law that we had been teaching, and that many of us had been raised on ourselves. The hearing of the Word is sufficient to raise our children’s souls from the dead, just as it has done for all of the other saints. Your daily attention to the truth is sufficient. Don’t let the simplicity of the Truth trip you up. Pharisees are the ones who like to complicate things, and I think we all have a little bit of that inability to believe that it could possibly be that simple. You don’t need to add anything to the Word–no charts, stickers, badges, records, journals, rewards, or any other kind of proof that the Holy Spirit is working. He just IS. Believe this, and have peace.

So, to make a very long blog post short, we should parent the way same we should live. By faith. And if you have none of that, then this is going to seem like some woefully scanty advice, in which case, I guess you should go buy a character curriculum to fill in the gaps.

Honesty. Integrity. Kindness. Generosity. Humility. Strength. Charity.

Look at all those pretty rows of tangible returns, gained through your loving and diligent teaching of “the Way” to your children. You’ve seen so much improvement in your child’s behavior over the months since you started training your child in Holiness. Where he had once stomped away in irritation from his crying little brother, he now stoops, with a glance over his shoulder to see if his ever-watchful Angel Mother is witness to his deed, to help Brother from his fallen condition. Where he used to grab greedily for the biggest piece of garlic bread, he now shifts his gaze, first to your hopeful face, and then to the smaller portion, leaving the larger for someone else.

It’s thrilling to see this child doing so much good! What can it be but the repentance that you’ve tried to teach him? Well, the chart is certainly helping, isn’t it? Now he knows he can do good, and you have bright, attractive displays to really remind him every day how good he can be, if only he will be mindful.

But don’t relax just yet, Mom. I’m impressed with your results, truly, and sometimes my children’s behavior is certainly more embarrassing to my carnal self than that which yours is displaying, if only by dint of our having no record to prove to you all the times that my child didn’t smack his brother in the head over a stolen five-cent piece of plastic named Lego.

You’re making me look bad, Lady.

In spite of all these results, though, there’s another step to all this character training. As far as I’ve perused these systems (which is to say, only far enough to sniff out the flaw in them), I’ve found them all lacking in one vital step which must not be skipped if you really want your child to learn to please God, rather than Mom, who is, after all, just Man with an apron and cookies.

If you do it this way, it might just work:

The next time you find your child in, not just childish rowdiness or disorder, but blatant sin, take that beautiful chart off the wall (or whatever record you had been keeping of all his good works). Don’t just take it down, mildly. Rip it down, angrily. It helps if you are a good actor, because it is unlikely that you, a sinner yourself, are going to be anywhere near as angry about your beloved child’s sin as Almighty God is about even the smallest perversion of his Goodness. Be wrathful, OK? It’s accurate.

Now, go outside. I hope it has been raining, because you’re going to need mud, the thicker the better. Lay…no, slam that poster down into the muck and mire. Jump on it with both feet (helpfully shod in your own nicest, holiest shoes) and really grind it in deep.

Now pick it up. Show your child what his works have accomplished.  “This, son, is all your righteousness. This is your record of good deeds and attitudes. This is every good behavior at which I’ve caught you in the course of training you how to display character. You’ve spoiled it. Go clean it up and put it back on the wall in the same condition it was before you sinned. Go ahead!”

But that is impossible. So when he cries with the shame of what he’s done (or maybe with his unrepentant anger at you for ruining all his visible virtue), you can then give him the Gospel you should have been giving him all along. “Son, the wrath of God is on all of us, the same way I vented my wrath on your ridiculous works-chart. But he sent his own Son to take all of that punishment I just dealt out to you. He died so that your chart might hang on the walls of Heaven, not marked out in individual good works or intermittently cheerful attitudes, but in the Blood of the Lamb, which covers every stain.

My child, I’m sorry I taught you to tote up your good deeds, rather than storing up your treasures in Heaven, to be cast down at the feet of the only One who is worthy of praise. Forgive me. And seek Christ’s forgiveness with me. This chart can’t save you. It can’t even help you look saved for any length of time, for “God will bring every deed into judgment, including every hidden thing, whether it is good or evil.” All this chart can do is make you feel like you’ve made gains against your own sin, and that is a lie. You can’t do that. I’m sorry I lied to you.”

Now, does this all seem too cruel to you, dear Reader? Too nitpicky and overly spiritual? After all, we’re just trying to avoid misbehavior and get better kids for our efforts! We’re not claiming that this will save them. Are we?

But children are very easily misled, just as we are.

And the disciples came to the other side of the sea, but they had forgotten to bring any bread. And Jesus said to them, “Watch out and beware of the leaven of the Pharisees and Sadducees.

–Matthew 16:6

It only takes a little yeast to leaven that little lump. I’m not being cruel or poking needless fun at your charts. What I just suggested you do with that record of your child’s visible “holiness” is nothing compared to what I’d have written if I’d really dug in and fully reflected Scripture.

“We have all become like one who is unclean, and all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment. –Isaiah 64:6”

Polluted? Those are our righteous deeds?

Do you know what that “polluted garment” refers to? It is not just a skirt with some mud on it, mamas. The prophet here (I am informed by one who has a lot more book-learning than I do) refers, quite shockingly, to used menstrual cloths. Based on this, I had considered a much more dramatic and bloody suggestion for what you can do with your child’s proudly-tallied righteousness.

“The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked. Who can know it?

“Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.”

“It is written, none is righteous, no, not one.”

“And when you fast, do not look gloomy like the hypocrites, for they disfigure their faces that their fasting may be seen by others. Truly, I say to you, they have received their reward.”

“When they come from the marketplace they do not eat unless they wash. And they observe many other traditions, such as the washing of cups, pitchers and kettles.”

How much of the Bible do I need to quote to convince you, Dear Reader, that character training is not just a potentially useful tool, or a help, or at the worst, a waste of time and resources, but an actual hindrance to the Gospel? Moms, stop pointing your child to these inadequate, self-righteous, works-driven “clean” spots on the outside of their cups. Give your children only the Living Water that can clean the inside and fill it so that it overflows and then washes the outside.

If, after this, you still think that “training in righteousness” by rewards and stickers is useful, or at least no harm, then tell me why. Not by your own result–that adorable, chubby-cheeked, compliant little cup of wrath you’ve been raising–nor by quoting the sellers and users of said devices, but by scripture itself, tell me what basis you have for teaching your child this way of becoming “holy.

I’ll wait here, but not with bated breath, because you don’t have anything like that, and I don’t like what happens after I’ve held my breath for too long.

Seven Times the Sons of Hell

There are a lot of hypocrites out there, aren’t there? Some of the cleanest-looking, most proper-sounding Christians have been caught in the very sins they’ve railed against the most vehemently. What makes them hypocrites is not that they proclaim sin to be sin, but that they hold so tightly to their own sin while doing so, proving that they don’t in their hearts believe what they are preaching.

Hypocrites are worse than honest unbelievers, because they attempt to profit from the truth without ever letting it touch their own hearts. The most recent of these public humiliations is neither the first, nor the last, nor even the worst. The lowest blow of these revelations (again, there are many examples besides Josh Duggar, who I’m sure is foremost in our minds, because he’s foremost in the news) is to the reputations of those who sacrifice their social status and financial comfort for the sake of Christ, as it casts doubt on their sincerity, too, and leads many unbelievers further astray. That there are people who claim Christ not because they love him, or even believe in him, but because they can get an easy career or social boost out of it is indisputable. That everyone who claims Christ is equally hypocritical and opportunistic is unearned guilt by association, and it causes further persecution of those who worship Christ in spirit and truth.

Now, I can’t tell you how not to raise a hypocrite, because hypocrisy is found in the heart, and you can’t change your children’s hearts. Only God can do that. Nor can I tell you how to raise a for-sure Pharisee, for the same reason. But I do detect some patterns that seem to have led many professing Christians into the rankest hypocrisy.

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert, and when you have succeeded, you make them twice as much a child of hell as you are.” Matthew 23:15

If a new convert is just twice the son of Hell, what can you make of your very own, hand-raised child, if you do it just right? Here are some things that I see among those who are producing converts who are perhaps not just twice, but seven times the sons of Hell that they are:

Give your kids a character chart instead of a living Christ. No matter what the behavioral problem presented to you by your children, instead of finding the answer to it in repentance, and in the Gospel of Christ’s blood shed for our sins, find the solution in behavior modification. I don’t like to get personal about these things, so I won’t say that one should never, ever follow a character curriculum, but…well, yes I will. One should never, ever follow a character curriculum. Not only is it unnecessary, it is a hindrance.

That might be the bravest thing I say all week, because I have a lot of friends with character charts proudly displayed on their walls. I don’t think worse of them for it, on a personal level. I believe in their confession of faith, utterly. But I think they’ve got ahold of a very bad, terrible, horrible, no good way of training children, focusing on works and appearances, rather than repentance. If you want your children following Christ, stickers and rewards are nothing more than behavior modification, a Skinnerian stumbling block on the way to repentance.

Teach your kids to follow a pattern, instead of Christ. But be clever about it. Say it’s Christ’s pattern. Gotta get married. Make that young. Gotta be debt free. Gotta have the Christian curriculum. Gotta have lots of kids. Gotta know the catechism by rote. Gotta be involved in politics. Gotta…blog? OK, yeah. Gotta blog. Gotta tithe. Church every Sunday, Sunday night, and Wednesday. Gotta be very much into public witnessing. Street preaching? Sure! Put the fish on your car, at the very least.

These are all things that often naturally and wholesomely result from cleaning the inside of the cup. But these things are all found on the outside of the cup, and can be easily faked. Pharisees never could see that, could they? They even believed their own lies:

Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you clean the outside of the cup and of the dish, but inside they are full of robbery and self-indulgence. You blind Pharisee, first clean the inside of the cup and of the dish, so that the outside of it may become clean also.

Matthew 23:25, 26 

Downplay the repentance, the “such a worm as I” stuff. It really doesn’t sell all that well in blogs, books, and on reality t.v. I know it doesn’t sell, because I have seen my blog stats, ok? Just live the formula and teach others to do the same. That way people can see how enviable it is to be a follower of Christ, and how much they, too, can benefit from this marvelous deal you have made with God. (Until you get caught in an uneviable position, of course. Then you can lay on about how you’re still a sinner, real thick.)

Assume that your children are, in their hearts, believing Christians just because they can spit out the right answersOne thing that scares me to death in this generation is parents who lead their children to pray a “sinner’s prayer”, rather than waiting for the moving of the Holy Spirit in their hearts. We may guide our children to the Living Water, but teaching that the sinner’s prayer is the route to Heaven amounts to trying to make him drink it. Just teach the truth, and let God do the heart-work. Be patient, parents, or you’ll have false converts on your hands. Even worse, they’ll have harder hearts to convert, because you taught them that they were OK by J.C..

(Disclosure: Not one of my children, the oldest of whom is eleven, has been baptized yet. Not. One. I’m not glad about that, but I have given them the Truth daily, and they have not yet done anything with it. God has this responsibility, not me. So maybe you won’t want to read my blog anymore, if good parenting is about getting early results instead of trusting Christ with your family. But I’ve seen early superficial results–in my own life, no less–end in late, egregious unbelief. I “gave my heart to Jesus” when I was six. But I wasn’t a repentant believer until I was 24. I really liked this Wretched video on the topic. Worth your time, even if you already agree.)

Make your Christianity professional, instead of confessional. That is, instead of living out the Way quietly, and with humility, make yourself the message.

And when you pray, do not be like the hypocrites, for they love to pray standing in the synagogues and on the street corners to be seen by others. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full.

–Matthew 6:5


I can’t say for sure what happened in anyone’s heart, but this sure looks like what the Duggars did, and it’s what that Doug Philips disaster seems to have been about. Whether they intended to or not at the beginning, they made it about themselves, their way, their methods, their purposes. But it’s not just these very public failures I’m talking about. I’ve seen a lot of people do it in much less public ways, and I doubt that many of them started out with their own self-interest in mind.

There have always been those who glom on to the name of Christ for their own purposes right from the beginning, though. I’ve known personally many people who’ve followed some silver-tongued evangelist or social fad in their community in “asking Christ into their hearts”, and then instead of following the Lord as lowly disciples for a season, they immediately set themselves up as church leaders. Often, they have done it for the sake of their businesses’ reputations (He’d never cheat you, he’s a Christian!), and other times for the sake of making Christianity itself into a cash cow. It seldom took long for these “preachers” and “teachers” to collapse under the weight of their own vanity, though.

Sometimes even earnest believers fall into the trap of using their reputations to gain. It’s just God’s way of blessing them over and over again, they think. I’ve witnessed it. I’ll bet you have, too. It happens to true lovers of Christ, yes. But believers repent when they realize this has happened, and that they’ve set their hearts on things not eternal. Hypocrites keep raking in the praise (and cash) of man until there’s none left to be had. Repentance is for suckers, and they will keep on suckering the repentant, if they can get away with it.

Do these things, friends, and let your child see you doing them. Then sit back and watch with awe as he surpasses you in brazen misuse of Christ’s name.

Not everyone who says to Me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but he who does the will of My Father who is in heaven will enter. Many will say to Me on that day, ‘Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in Your name, and in Your name cast out demons, and in Your name perform many miracles?’ And then I will declare to them, ‘I never knew you; DEPART FROM ME, YOU WHO PRACTICE LAWLESSNESS.’

Because the inside of the cup is often hard to see, there are a lot of people who profess faith who we will one day see thrown into the lake of fire. My friends, you might see me in that position on the last day, for all you know. I have no doubt about my Savior, but you can’t be so sure of me, can you?

So don’t follow me. Don’t follow Duggars. ( Really, though, I still don’t know that the whole family is a fake. I just don’t know enough about it to know either way.) Don’t follow preachers, or friends, or teachers, or community leaders. Don’t follow a formula or a pattern. Just follow scripture.

Follow Christ.

I don’t expect a lot of happy comments today, seeing how many homeschoolers I likely just irritated with the character chart thing. Leave your comments, though. I can take ’em. 😉  


I Survived Roe vs. Wade

Yesterday was the 36th anniversary of my passage into legal personhood. Yesterday was not the 36th anniversary of the beginning of my existence. That was sometime in November of 1978, when I was conceived. I survived Roe vs. Wade because my mother, a sinner who has no right to make such a choice, wanted me in her life. Four thousand unborn children are killed every day whose parents aren’t so kind as mine.

A few weeks ago, my baby in utero grew to a size that qualifies her as prime material for medical research, if only the likes of Planned Parenthood could get their hands on her. But they can’t. Her life is legally protected because I, a sinner with no right to make such a choice, want her and love her. Otherwise, we could still legally find someone to murder her. How can the feelings of her mother, a sinner saved only by Christ’s blood, be the legal measure of whether her life is worth protecting or not?

Yesterday was a good birthday for me, until the Center for Medical Progress ruined it. Yesterday, they released the seventh video in their series exposing the gruesome truth about abortion. I had prayed earlier this week that the next video would be released, that nothing would hinder it. I know that Satan doesn’t want this out there, and his legal and media minions are doing everything they can to prevent the truth from coming out. But I have not watched any of the videos before this one. I haven’t wanted to look at it. This time, though, I felt an irresistible tug at my heart.

You have to watch. We all have to watch, because these babies’ mothers would not suffer them to live. Because they have not mourned them, you must. You can’t keep turning away.”

So I watched it. I watched an aborted little baby, not the one discussed in the video as a “tissue donor”, but one every bit as human, lying naked and cold in a little pan, still twitching his little legs. He was alive, and we killed him. America, we killed him with our lawless law. We killed him with our indifference. WE killed him by refusing to fall on our faces in repentance. Our decadence, our comfort, is to blame for this enormity.

I know you want to look away. My heart hurts just thinking of looking. I thought I didn’t need to see it because I was already aware of the crimes against nature being committed every day in abortion mills, under the protection of “law”.

I know you’re already pro-life, dear reader. Most of you, anyway. Maybe you are already doing what you can, and don’t need to think about it any harder. But if you haven’t seen him yet, you have to look at him–this little baby with no name and no mother and no protection under the law.

You have to look at Holly, the technician who has held, and even portioned out the parts of these murdered babies so they could be sold. Look at Holly, who has awakened to this evil and wondered as she held them in her bloody hands what the babies would have become, if only their mothers, sinners who have no right to make that choice, had wanted them to live. Pray for Holly’s healing.

Pray for God’s protection over CMP‘s work. They are doing real, dangerous battle with the enemy. Their very lives are at stake, I am certain.

Pray for the mothers and fathers who didn’t want their babies yesterday, when approximately 4,000 of them were murdered. Pray for the mothers and fathers who don’t want them today, when 4,000 more are being eliminated, one by one. As you read this they are dying. Pray for the mothers and fathers who won’t want them tomorrow, and will have them killed in the thousands every single day until we put a stop to it.

Do you think praying isn’t enough? I think it’s the only thing that’s lacking. We’ve put dollars in. We’ve put time in. We’ve put votes in. But I think the one thing that’s lacking is the thing we think of as too passive: heartfelt, gut-wrenching prayer and fasting. I know that I haven’t spent enough time on my knees about this. Is it even possible to spend too much time praying about this? God inhabits the prayers of His people. So pray!

All of America needs to don sackcloth and ashes. Pray for these mothers; pray for these doctors; pray for every lover of death who clamors for “choice”; pray for every politician with blood-soaked hands; pray for every fornicating man and woman who risks bringing into existence a life that they are unwilling to nurture; for every married couple that wants to have their fun and career, regardless of the consequence to their souls when they reject the natural blessings of their union.

But don’t pray for their destruction, or for God’s vengeance, though it is sorely overdue in this nation. The tenor of my prayers has often been angry, but the anger of man doesn’t achieve the righteousness of God. We need to pray for them in love, for their repentance. Remember that we are all without hope unless we have Christ’s mercy on us.

I wonder if we would have been so ineffective all these years if we had been praying because of our fear of Almighty God, rather than our own anger at having lost so many battles, so many lives. We should be angry. But we should also be merciful. There’s no contradiction in that.

We pray for Christ’s mercy so that justice can be done. 

I’m sorry, little babies. I knew I should look, and I pushed it out of my mind because it hurt to see and I didn’t want to hurt. I didn’t want to lose all this sleep that I’m losing right now. I wanted to enjoy my birthday cake and gifts. I was selfish and wanted to remain materially comfortable, though self-righteously indignant.

But I’m looking now, little babies. I’m praying for mercy. For justice. I’m sorry you had no one to love you while you were in your own mother’s womb. I trust that you are loved by Christ in Heaven now. I’m sorry our nation abandoned you. We are guilty, all of us. The Christian faith has grown so cold that we’ve allowed even our own language to make us complicit in the lie of choice. Forgive us, Lord.

Look at them.

Demand that the president look at them, too, while you’re at it.

A Few More Thinks

Have you watched Wait Till It’s Free yet? 

I enjoyed it, and of course, I found a few hobby-horses to ride out of it.

As a commenter pointed out, the film made good points about not only health care, but all socialized welfare. It made me laugh when Colin Gunn remarked that his “super expensive” large family might turn out to be an asset to him after all, given the callousness of socialized healthcare toward the elderly. If you don’t have kids to look after you, you’re vulnerable. The system does not care. The system exists for itself, not for you.

Margaret Thatcher was only halfway to the truth when she said that the trouble with socialism is that eventually you run out of other people’s money.

What she should have said (to keep this on topic, I won’t conjecture right now as to why she didn’t) was, “The trouble with socialism is that eventually you run out of other people’s children.” Economies are built on people. Money doesn’t exist without humans to create the value that it represents. Socialism aims to make the family obsolete, and succeeds quite well in one sense. It diminishes the family in both size and presence in the life of the individual. But it never gets around to replacing it in value. It never can.

Without the traditional family replenishing and training children in religion, the system soon runs out of value-makers. Yes, I said religion, not careers or citizenship or socialization. Where else but true religion do you get honesty, work ethic, and generosity to widows and orphans? And then there is the need for discernment and moral courage not to be materially generous to the shiftless and wastrels, but to let them go to Hell in their own hand-basket, if they so choose. That’s really where the State fails most spectacularly, robbing the righteous to support the ignorant and immoral.

As I’ve said numerous times, socialism, by shifting family responsibilities to the State, makes family relationships with all their drama and inconvenience seem far less attractive (to the shallow, at least, and that is a sizable fraction of the human race). Consequently, the birthrate plunges.

What can’t continue, won’t, of course:

Screenshot WTIF

Screenshot from Wait Till It’s Free, still available for free, for a short time.

Get to procreating, young people, because the boomers have just about run out of other people’s children. There’ll be nothing left for the rest of us, and sooner than you think. There’s nothing left to do but rebuild, at this late date.

Besides, the grasshopper generation has deceived you. Children really are a blessing. They’d be worth it even if they did leave you dead broke. But they don’t. They truly don’t.

Is It Worth It?

Several people I know personally are either trying to get out of debt, or constantly tempted to get back into debt, if only for big ticket items. They often express their doubts about the possibility of ever being free. Like Christians ought to, our family takes to heart the teaching of the Bible on everything, including debt.

The rich rule over the poor, and the borrower is slave to the lender.

–Proverbs 22:7

This a simple statement of fact, as most Proverbs are, rather than a per se judgment on the indebted, though. We hate and avoid debt simply because slavery is an unpleasant situation in which to find oneself. Which guy do you want to be? Indebted or free? That’s a no-brainer for us. We truly don’t think that we, as God’s children, need to rely on debt, rather than Him, to supply our needs.

For us, debt is such a repulsive option that we are going to work very hard, even to the point of real pain, to avoid it. Consequently, we still don’t own a house. Secured debt is a very different thing than revolving or consumer debt, so we’re not completely averse to a small mortgage that takes no more of our income than our (fairly cheap) rental would. But a small mortgage has, to date, been out of our reach, so we’ve been saving for an adequate down-payment. And saving. And saving. And the savings have, for good reasons (and occasionally not good, but really not bad either), not accumulated as quickly as we thought they would. So we’re still renting a house that is not…nice.

And I have to admit, I get tired of it. I’m tired of the worn-out carpet that the landlord isn’t interested in replacing. I’m tired of the walls that I have to re-paint in the cheap, unwashable, ugly brand and color specified in the lease. I’m tired of not being able to improve things that need improvement. I’m tired of not having enough storage space to hide all the stuff that sits on the counters.

I am so tired, in fact, that I’m tempted to cut our goal short and go buy a really BIG loan, instead of the smaller one we’d decided long ago was wise. This would not, in all cases, be a moral failing. But where we are right now, I think it would at least lead to moral failures.

It would probably lead to financial irritations. Financial irritations lead to family stress. And family stress so easily leads to family sin. Not only that, but how could we help needier people than ourselves if so much more of our money was tied up than is necessary?

I (and I reckon most people who advocate debt-freedom) do not equate taking on debt with committing sin. Not exactly, anyway. There are a lot of sins that go into the making of debts–the lust of the flesh, pride of the eyes, a desire to impress others, or simple lack of faith in Providence–but we don’t doubt that honest people committing no sin at all can fall into circumstances where they are indebted to, say, anesthesiologists and car loans.

For many newer or poorly-taught Christians, debt is a way of life begun so long ago that is difficult to escape, even after they know better. For them, freedom really seems like a pipe dream. For some, it really is a pipe dream. When you’re seventy and still in debt, the game is pretty well over, isn’t it? If you’re raising kids and they need shoes, and you just got laid off, what are you going to do? Well, I mean, I hope I’d swallow my pride and ask my church or family for help first, but I admit that sometimes these things are a lot easier to cover with a credit card, especially if you think you’ll be back to work soon.

The point isn’t that debt is a great way to solve temporary problems, but that sometimes even God’s people find themselves confused or unsure of what to do, and debt is the thing that they understand the best right now. Sometimes the mortgage is actually the better way, I know. But it takes discernment and some (hard-won, in our case) maturity to tell when this is the case.

However, I do think we often talk ourselves into believing that debt is our only option, when in fact deferring gratification just a little while, or even a lot longer, is the better path to take, not only financially, but morally. Before we go into debt for the must-have item, we need to ask ourselves a question:

What are my heart motivations for taking on this debt? 

Better yet, ask God to search your heart for the answer. You are, after all, not very good at searching your own heart. (Jeremiah 17:9)

I will be as painfully honest as I should be here: My main motivation for wanting to veer off our plan is that I’m just stinking tired of looking at this house.

It has been adequate for our needs. It’s comfortable enough, cheap to heat and cool, convenient to town, almost big enough (if we just keep our possessions to a minimum), a great price in an expensive area, and we have awesome landlords.

But it’s ugly. 

There you have it. Mostly, it’s just ugly.

It’s hard to clean, and old, and needs some serious flooring and wall updating. I don’t have the knack that some ladies do for making things look nice without laying out a lot of money for new stuff, either. Our home is far beneath the status that most people of our income are able to maintain. I don’t know (because it’s not my business) whether that’s because they’re in a whole bunch of debt, or just that they’re that much smarter than we are. Whichever it is, I know what we make, and I can pretty closely guess what other people make, and it seems like we should be in a nicer house by now. They certainly are!

But it is solely the look of it that is tempting me to do what we decided long ago not to do.

Before you take on debt, ask yourself, how much of this discontent is based on what other people might think of you, rather than what you really need? That is pride. Is it based on what your possessions make you feel about yourself? That’s pride, too. And how much less generous to the truly poor would you have to be in order to maintain that beautiful home cumbersome mortgage?

One person pretends to be rich, yet has nothing; another pretends to be poor, yet has great wealth.

–Proverbs 13:7

Maybe you’ll never get the thing you’re saving for. I am pretty sure we’re going to get our bigger, nicer house someday. We keep taking two steps forward and only one back, so we’re making progress. But what if we don’t? More than once we’ve reached a comfortable level of savings only to find that we had actually been saving for some other, more pressing need, rather than the house we’d thought we were getting.

But do you have shelter? Clothing? Food?

Does God care what the rest of the world thinks of my carpet? I think he doesn’t care very much about that, in our case. Maybe the carpet does matter in your circumstance! I don’t know your needs. But I know right now, for myself, that it is still worth our freedom to stay in this place, making ourselves content for yet another year or more.

We’ll see where God leads us, rather than running off to the mortgage broker and praying his blessing on our lives.


Jimmy Stole My Post

And I don’t care.

Looks like some people need to learn some manners. Stop stealing Stacy’s blog posts! Unlike my GNDN blog, she actually has a business, and you’re messing it up when you do that.

Plagiarism is slightly different for a hobby blogger, but just as irritating in some ways. As I commented on Stacy’s blog, I don’t really care anymore if people steal from me. I used to think it mattered, but for me it truly doesn’t. My search engine rank could go down to zero, and people could start reading all my words on other sites, never knowing they came from me, and I’m not sure my irritation would amount more than velleity. I’m not really losing anything material, at this point, and I’ve given up trying to take action against plagiarists.

Even if I were trying to run a business now (which I sorta did at one point, in that half-serious way I have of doing things), I’m not sure vigilance against plagiarism is all that useful in the end. You know you wrote it, and you can prove it if you have to. As far as search engines go, I believe the code that decides page rank have ways of determining which posts are authentic and original, and the coders keep improving their detection of spam blogs. I think the theft is ultimately a very small cost to doing business–small enough to be not worth the second thought. I’d probably just factor it in as an inevitable loss, the internet being what it is. That don’t make it right, of course, and every blogger is free to muster as much outrage as she deems appropriate.

What really used to baffle me, even more than people “scraping” my posts and reposting them as their own, was when I’d see paragraphs or entire blog posts copied and pasted to other people’s Facebook pages with all my identifying information removed, but otherwise intact. My posts are loaded with links and references to previous writings, so it takes a lot of work to scrub out my signature. You might as well write your own post if you’re going to work that hard!

When your own friends and relatives (my friends and relatives don’t seem to read this blog, and I don’t blame them much) start commenting on someone else’s page about how beautifully they word things, or how they wish they’d thought of that idea–your idea!–it can be maddening.

Your options are to

  • Call that person out in public. That can be satisfying, but you can also end up feeling like a jerk because you’re treating that jerk, and everyone who defends her, like the jerk she is.
  • Comment more subtly so that they know you know what they did. Only once have I commented, “Great post! I wish I’d written that!” That was a hoot. I got blocked.
  • Have other people call them out for you. But that would require your mutual friends to, you know, read your blog so they already know who wrote that. So that’s another poke in the eye. Thanks for not reading, Auntie Em. Never liked you much, anyway.
  • Message them privately and ask them politely not to do that. Believe me, I know this from experience, it never goes well when you do it privately. On the internet, as in life, people who steal are marvelously skilled at rationalizing their behavior. You are the bad guy for being stingy, or for not being grateful for this sincerest form of flattery.
  • Ignore it. This is my final and definite solution to the “problem”. Vengeance is mine, sayeth the Lord. And He probably doesn’t care all that much, either. At least the ideas are getting out to the general public, I guess.

It really feels like people are trying to steal your personality, not just imitate your words, when they do that. In the end, I wind up feeling vaguely disgusted by them. What kind of loser would be so deficient in flair that they’d need my personality to compensate? Nobody I want to know, anyhow.

Go ahead and steal this post. Loser.

Wait Till It’s Free

How’s your healthcare? If you work for the government, have plenty of subsidies for your premiums, or are just wed to the idea that paying a quarter or one half of your income for health insurance+actual care is the way things ought to be, then you’re in the minority who would answer “Just fine, thanks!”

And then there’s the rest of us. Things are now so bad that only 30% of people with “Obamacare” plans–even those with subsidies–are satisfied. That doesn’t even include those who still have employer-provided plans, or Samaritan Ministries International, like we do.

Me? I’m unhappy, and not just because of the principle of the thing. A good doctor I had relied on retired early, I strongly suspect because of costs imposed by the ACA. I used to be able to get an appointment with a family doctor relatively quickly, and now there’s a couple of months long waiting list. That makes it pretty hard to get a new doctor, even when I really need to. Prices for everything are (I believe, though I have looked for no data beyond my own ballooning budget) higher than they used to be.

But I’m still better off than the people on the government plans. 

I’m actually not unhappy with my health insurance. For one thing, it is not insurance. The amount we’re paying for our SMI membership isn’t a burden, and it isn’t going up with the same breakneck speed that insurance plans are. While our $405 monthly share is more than we were paying before the ACA passed, it is still far less than we would be paying now when you include premiums, deductibles, and co-pays. That’s even with our out-of-pocket well-checks and allergy shots.

The ACA is not done yet, of course. What Obamacare has done to the people who have been forced onto its exchanges will eventually be done to those of us who have thus far escaped its grasp. Social “justice” demands no less than equal misery for all. I mean, equal, unless you work for the government. Some animals must, of course, be more equal than others.

Colin Gunn, producer of Indoctrination (highly recommended) has made a new documentary about the American health care system, Wait Till It’s Free. Samaritan Ministries, a Christian alternative to insurance, is offering a free viewing for the next ten days. I haven’t watched it yet, but it’s Colin Gunn, so I’m sure it will be very entertaining and informative. We don’t have to sit silently by and let the government and insurance industry drain us of every resource in the name of “insurance”. There are free market, ethical solutions.

I’m going to go watch now. You should, too. You have ten days before you have to pay for it.

Watch Wait Till It’s Free while it’s free.

Oh, and if you decide to join Samaritan Ministries after hearing about it from me, please do our family a great big favor and mention that you heard about it from Jesse and Cindy Dyer on your application. We could use the discount to our share. Thanks!

UPDATE: I just watched it. It’s spot on. Also, we got a letter from Samaritan Ministries today and our baby’s birth will be paid for by the time she ( 😀 ) gets here! Our need will be shared next month. That’s neat.

I Feel Better Now

As I’ve mentioned a few times in the past, I have thyroid disease. Partly because of weight gain, partly because the baby herself ( :-) ) makes extra demands on the thyroid, my meds have to be adjusted upward at least a couple of times during each pregnancy. As I wrote here, I had been seeing a doctor who was stunned at the number of children I have, and scandalized by my openness to having even more. He clearly thinks I’m in need of counseling, and possibly a lobotomy.

For a lot of reasons, I hadn’t yet fired him as my doctor, though. I’m not usually bothered very much by people who don’t understand my life choices. I don’t think he’s a quack (honest, I don’t), and new doctors are a pain to get acquainted with. Besides, my illness has been extremely easy to manage in the past, so it felt like no big deal. All of these things have kept me complacent with my choice of doctors, even though I’m not especially crazy about being encouraged to medicate away my family’s blessings. This doctor likely thinks I’m kind of a joke, but who doesn’t? That’s just large-family life in post-modern America. Gotta just let people think what they’re going to think and get on with things, right?

Well, no, actually. That was really bad thinking on my part.

Thyroid disease is a sneaky thing. You don’t just wake up one day and feeling so obviously bad that you know you need treatment. It’s a pretty slow decline, and the person suffering symptoms may, as I had, slip away so slowly that she isn’t even aware that she is not functioning as well as she should be.

Normally, my dose gets adjusted in the second trimester, before symptoms begin, and again in the third. For the second trimester draw, my doctor told me my levels were fine. I didn’t ask what they were, but I suspect that they were already not fine at all. I was losing mental focus, having to sit down to rest by 2 p.m., and wishing for a nap by 3 p.m. By dinnertime, I was so worn out I could barely scrape anything together for the meal. I was gaining quite a bit more weight than I should, and exhibiting other symptoms you probably don’t really care to hear about. And the brain fog of thyroid disease makes me almost incapable of seeing what’s happening, even when I’m that miserable! (It is quite possible that my writing has suffered as well, but I’m scared to go back and look. Be a friend and just don’t tell me about it, K?)

When I finally realized what was going on, I called the doctor and asked for another lab order. He sent one along, despite his insistence that there was no need for it. It came back, his nurse called and said I was fine. I was not fine. At this point, every cell in my body seemed to be screaming for energy all day. I felt like I was walking through thick mud, or dragging around cinderblocks on chains, it was so tiring just to lift my limbs to walk, do chores, and hold my babies.

I still didn’t ask what my TSH level actually was, but I asked the nurse to please tell him how bad I felt and see if he would change his mind. She called back. Nope. “Therapeutic. Drink more water.” was the wisdom handed down from on high.

But I did get my actual number this time, and it was 3.2. Um. That’s high. “High normal” is 4, but people don’t usually feel very good as they near that upper boundary. Especially pregnant people. I’m pretty sure you can’t get out of medical school without learning these things. I’m also sure that if he’d gotten fancy with his order and checked the T3 and T4, he’d have seen some worrisome numbers, but for some reason he did not do that. Honestly, if he’d been listening to me, just the TSH would have been plenty to go by.

He was firm, though. No dose adjustment. I cried. I gave up. That’s another thing I only do when my levels are way off.

At my next pregnancy checkup, I got a chance to talk to the midwife who has been caring for me through my pregnancies for the last 11 years. She listened. She did not tell me to drink more water. She did not tell me that I needed to slow down and rest more because I am pregnant. She knows me. She knows that I’m not a low-energy person by nature. Even more importantly, she knows that having a lot of children does not make you an untrustworthy, low-IQ, or hypochondriac patient who needs to be second-guessed when she explains what’s going on with her body. She got my dose fixed. Two weeks later, I feel human again. I love her so much for believing me and for healing me.

Now I find myself wondering if that doctor would have been so adamant that I was doing just fine when I obviously was struggling if he had a little more respect for me. Would he have given more credence to the symptoms I reported if I didn’t seem so strange to him? Did he have it in the back of his mind that my only real problem is that I’m very foolishly pregnant with a seventh child? Would a different woman with fewer or no children have received sympathy and treatment instead being brushed off?

In a first-time pregnant, otherwise healthy woman, those symptoms and that TSH would absolutely scream DOSE ADJUSTMENT! And for anybody paying attention, those symptoms say the same thing for an older mom of seven.

They’re people, not parasites.

That a mother caring for several kids all day must be frazzled to the point of being barely functional is an assumption I’ve encountered several times, mostly from people who haven’t cared for children very much. I haven’t found that to be true at all, thankfully. My kids don’t drain my energy. If anything, they keep me feeling young and fit. It is work, but the work is good! (Explaining this to people over and over again sure does make me feel tired sometimes, I admit. Exhausted, even.)

Shouldn’t my doctor have known better, though? Any doctor ought to know that there’s a normal kind of tired and an abnormal kind, even for a very busy person. Based on some of the things he has said to me in the past, I can’t help but think that my doctor could very well have allowed his distaste for my choices to color his thinking. If a woman won’t limit her reproduction, then maybe she can’t be trusted to manage the rest of her health, either.

I’m not claiming that this is some kind of overt discrimination. Not exactly. It’s also possible (though less likely, I think) that this particular doctor, who is still pretty new, is just so enamored with that textbook normal range that he really does think that that’s the only thing he needs to know to treat me. I showed him a whole forest of symptoms, but he only saw that one, sorta normal tree. He liked that tree. He clung to that tree.

I’ve had thyroid disease longer than he’s been a doctor, so I do know what I’m talking about. He should have understood that.  But that could be nothing but inexperience on his part.

I prefer that possibility to the alternative, which is that he sees me as a used up, worn out mother of many who must be a fool to expect to feel good at the end of a busy day.  (By the way, I do feel awesome by the end of the day now, no thanks to him.)

But that’s the problem. I can’t know for sure whether I can trust this man to listen to me. If my doctor doesn’t take me very seriously, even if he’s doing exactly what he would do for another patient with whom he finds it easier to sympathize, there’s no way I can trust that his bias isn’t throwing off his judgment. Maybe he’s totally objective about this stuff. Maybe he just needs to learn a thing or two about thyroids. Either way, I’ll be seeing someone else from now on.

So I say all that to say this: (Actually, I said all that just because I felt like getting it off my chest, but since I’m trying to be a relevant-to-her-readers mommy blogger, let’s pretend I’m writing this as a public service. Ahem.)

So, I say all that to say this:

Ladies, it is OK to be picky when choosing your health care providers. Do not do what I did and allow yourself to continue being treated (poorly) by a doctor who thinks of you as less intelligent or reliable just because you allow nature to take its course in your marriage. You will never know for sure if you’re getting the right treatment if you can’t even get him to listen to you. (Have you seen that Seinfeld where Elaine’s doctor writes in her chart that she’s “difficult”?)

I’ve always had trouble taking myself seriously, so it’s hard for me to expect other people to. Maybe I’ve finally learned my lesson about that.It doesn’t make you a high maintenance patient to shop around for someone who understands you, nor are you a trouble-maker for speaking up for yourself.  It just means that you expect to be taken seriously.

On Sexual Morality, by C. S. Lewis

Even C. S. Lewis probably had no inkling of the depths to which our “right” to sexual fulfillment would be taken, but this is certainly pertinent to gay mirage as well as adultery, or any other fornication:

I like the Doodles. Watch them all here.

Links on Modesty

I didn’t have time to add links to my last post (had to scoot for an early midwife appointment), but I didn’t want to pass up a chance to promote a few good reads on the subject of modesty.

The Naked Truth: Revealing Things We Hide Behind, by Tony Robinson (Kindly sent to me by the author. I intended to review it more fully, but then I quit blogging. Again. And I will probably quit tomorrow, too. Just get used to it. I making it a permanent feature of the blog.)

Christian Modesty and the Public Undressing of America (free download), by Jeff Pollard. This was recommended by my friend Rebecca, who only quits blogging about half as often as I do.

More Than Rules: Exploring the Heart of Beauty and Modesty, by Bambi Moore. This is my favorite of the three books listed here, written from a woman’s perspective, and very practical in its application. That one is an affiliate link, but if you object to my profiting from your click, just google it and buy it that way.

The Evolution of the Swimsuit, Jessica Rey (youtube video)

Bathing Beauties, Boys, and Modesty That’s an old blog post of mine. “The Lord loves a fuddy-duddy.” Yes, He does.


Modesty and Double Standards

Even though I haven’t spent a lot of time on the topic of modesty here on this blog, I’ve recently been approached by half a dozen people with book suggestions, questions, and comments on modesty. It’s not a topic that I’ve handled very often, but it’s something no mother of growing children can ignore. Or should ignore, anyway. Thanks to a tangentially related email from a reader, I’ve been thinking about the “double standards” supposedly held by men. I’m sure many of us remember quite a tempest in the internet teapot about yoga pants not too long ago. A number of women, bloggers and commenters alike, came down on the “well, just don’t look!” side of things. While a number of men said “I love yoga pants. Makes it so much easier to be a dirty old man.” (That’s an actual quote from a political blogger I read, if I could only remember which one.)

What I didn’t see was a lot of concern on the part of women for their own souls. So busy are they, worrying about whether the rest of us ought to police our own eyes that they ignore the fact that the way a person dresses both affects and reflects her own thoughts.

Does my butt look good in this, you dirty-minded old man? Are you jealous yet, ugly, over-the-hill church lady?

The argument, ad absurdum, (which is less a fallacy in this case than a useful way of exposing the heart of an issue) is that women should be able to walk around as naked as the day they were born, and if men weren’t such horrible people, they wouldn’t even notice. Therefore, it’s all the men’s fault–not the men who enjoy it, who I think we can safely dismiss from this discussion as non-complaining participants in the behaviors, but the ones who look away, and would very much like not to have to relate to her that way. They’re engaging in “shaming” by making these women aware of their shame!

It’s a pretty glaring double standard, isn’t it, that women think they should be able to call attention to whatever body parts they like, and the rest of us, men and women alike, have to pretend not to see it? Somehow men are the ones to blame for the fact that light bouncing off the derriere of the chick in hot-pants enters their wicked pupils, completely unbidden.

It is not, however, only women who do this. Male joggers and athletes come to mind as an example of the other sex failing to cover up properly. I don’t allow my sons to go without shirts, or even sleeves, and it is because I do not have a double standard. Most people who insist on feminine modesty also insist on masculine modesty. So I’m still not seeing this alleged double standard.

Out of respect for the truths that sight is a passive sense, that light is totally indiscriminate, falling everywhere and bouncing into every unimpaired eyeball, and that people can’t unsee things once seen, we–men and women–ought to take care about what we force others to look at. Indecency is an assault on the privacy of the mind of the viewer, not the viewed, and I think the immodest person, male or female, knows it. Let’s go with the feminine for the rest of this post, though, both for ease of reading, and for the fact that women are much more likely to engage in this kind of passive-aggressive sartorial choice.

The immodest person is an aggressor. She may be able to stuff her conscience into a deep, unexamined closet in that deceitful heart of hers, as all humans are so practiced at doing, but she does know on some level that she is being provocative. (This post is not to include naive girls who are simply unaware because their parents aren’t paying enough attention.) The sexually aware woman who dresses immodestly enjoys the power trip, frankly, even when she hides that fact from herself. Even if the woman in question is quite comfortable being seen nearly, or suggestively, naked, she has no right to expect others to be unaffected by it, whether by becoming aroused or (and this is the real sin in the eyes of those enraged by the yoga pants thing) embarrassed. It’s really only the embarrassed person that is making her feel ashamed. She doesn’t expect others not to notice. She simply expects them to like it. It’s the same as shouting in a person’s ear and then blaming them for nursing the subsequent pain in their head.

Yes, it’s true that unholy men, even self-proclaimed Christians, like immodest dress, and encourage it. But then the good men (and women), the ones we should want to encourage in fellowship, are forced to look in a different direction and limit social contact because they can’t unsee the cleavage or the tight pants. They can try all day to keep their eyes riveted to the top of your head instead of your chest, but (quick, don’t think of a pink elephant!) they are having to struggle mightily to remember that there is a limited area in which their eyes and thoughts are safe from your visual assault.

It is truly unfair to blame the viewer for the picture you’ve painted. 

As a visually stimulated female, maybe a great deal more than most women, or maybe just more honest about it, I get the problem immodesty presents for even good men. There have have been women and men that I have to work very hard to keep my eyes off of, and it is thoroughly embarrassing. I don’t look with sin in my heart. I’m not seeking stimulation. I’m just looking for a place to rest my eyes.

Just this Sunday there was a woman attending the worship service who seemed to have forgotten her pants. Suddenly I’m completely yanked out of the thoughts I should be thinking and looking for something, anything to do with my eyes that will get her out of my line of sight. But if I let myself forget that she’s there, my eyes are going to be assaulted again, and so I now have to focus on her presence in order to avoid seeing her. And making people–at least young men–see her was, I’m certain, her motive in dressing that way, whatever she may say to the contrary.

There is a double standard, but it’s not mine. All of those, men and women, who indulge the temptation to either look at nakedness or expose themselves, have that double standard. The men, some of them, do pretend that it’s solely the fault of the woman so that they won’t have to confess their own sin. And the women who defend that form of dress have a double standard of their own. They want the attention, but hold the men solely responsible for their thoughts. In short, both parties are participating in the sin.

Further, these women who clearly are working hard to be seen looking gooooood, place blame on the men (and women) who turn away from them. How dare they not be hardened to these sexual displays! It’s the person turning away, reminding them of their shame, that they’re angry about, not any double standard on the part of the objector.

The truth is that the good men and women are policing their thoughts and eyes, just as they should. Because they are doing that, they have to flee temptation, limiting contact with people they’d rather be able to treat as brothers and sisters. Even people who think themselves Christians are pursuing the eyes and thought of others, even when we are supposed to be focusing on the things of God.

If your heart is tender, admitting and avoiding your own sinful nature, you will avert your eyes. Then, in the world’s view, you are the wrong-doer. They (men and women, don’t forget) want to be sexy everywhere, all the time, and they demand that we not be embarrassed.

This requires you, Christian, to harden your heart with a great deal of lecherous thinking, frankly, but they’re OK with that. There’s tons of stuff on the internet that can help desensitize you to all that skin. Go, you prude, and acclimate yourself to the Cosmopolitan worldview.

Jesus couldn’t possibly object.

Too Busy To Know God Intimately?

Yes, kids are demanding, but God is more demanding. Not more needy, but definitely more needful. More important. Jealous, even. No other Gods, remember? Go read Bambi’s good words on finding time for God.

Support Ethical Vaccines

Sound Choice Pharmaceutical Institute is a great place to spend whatever funds you have in the “giving” envelope. They do the Lord’s work in a very tangible way, so chip in if you can.

Planned Parenthood Sells Baby Parts

If they were giving them away, that would be fine?

Video evidence just released shows that Planned Parenthood not only murders babies, but carefully hand-selects the best specimens to sell them for medical research and development. I can barely type that without feeling faint, and I am not given to swooning. I am not surprised, and I doubt many of my seventeen or so readers are, either. What else can you expect from people who do murder for a living? But I read a lot of liberal, leftist, and libertarian blogs, and I see quite a few expressions of dismay from supporters of abortion. That, I find amusing. What did they think was going to happen?

Who else benefits from these murders? 

Here’s something that might surprise you as much as it surprised me when I found out, though: Do you know, Christians, that you are the unwitting participants in the use of murdered bodies? That several of the mandatory vaccines you are having put into your children are manufactured using the uniquely self-perpetuating cells of babies of very specific gestational age? That aborted tissue is pretty much the only way to collect those particular kinds of cells? Well, no, they don’t tell you that. You would never realize it on your own, so they keep from informing you so you won’t get your sweet little head all bothered about ridiculous notions of ethics. It takes a heavily educated doctor to understand why this is not really a sin problem.

Given the lectures on vaccination that I get from willfully ignorant doctors every time I take my children in for anything, I’d say that they are probably among the naive who actually believed that, while abortionists and mothers conspire to murder babies, and sure that’s bad, they wouldn’t dare to then furtively sell them for research. They say that such things are not ongoing, so we need not worry about the fact that pharmaceutical companies are profiting from just that one little murder.

After all, they tell me, it was only that one baby, and that was more than fifty years ago, and a lot of people have been saved by his poor, murdered frame. Besides, the baby would have been killed anyway, so what’s the harm?

It’s totes OK, you religious throwback!

No, doc. The only person whose death was to benefit all mankind is Christ, and his is the only broken body and blood from which I will gain life.

Aside from the fact that it was not just one baby, or even just one baby per vaccine, and leaving out the truth that having the murderer’s permission to take her victim’s tissue is hardly the kind of informed consent you expect a tissue donor to give, you actually are, contrary to what the pro-vaccine “Christians” and lying scientists will tell you, likely to get DNA and other cell fragments from these children injected into your bloodstream when you receive these vaccines. All to keep you safe from the measles.

As I told one of my vaccine-loving friends (and I would love them, too, if I could trust the people who make them not to sneak these abominations into my unsuspecting body), I fear God more than I fear measles. You should, too, Christians.

Back to the reasoning of those shocked by the video, which I do not recommend actually watching if you just had breakfast: People who are hardened enough to murder must surely have some standards still, right? And we’re not complicit as a “pro-life” body of believers, are we?

No way does our continuing to buy vaccines made of murdered babies encourage them to kill even more, right? PP doesn’t do this for the money, or for the love of doing evil, but out of the goodness of their professionally-distanced (read: sin-seared) hearts, so you just put that fear right out of your head. Murder isn’t, after all, the worst thing a person can do. Breaking the law is!

I like to read Victorian-era novels. Not modern novels about Victorian times, but the ones written back then. I find they insult my Father in Heaven a great deal less. Though they do have the sins of their own times to account for, at least blasphemy wasn’t one of them. In one of these novels, the vehemence with which a character insisted that the villain of the story, blackhearted as he was in every other way, could never stoop to such wickedness as murder further awakened my moral sense on this. Being a well-versed believer, I understood the progression of thought she expressed. Murder is certainly the worst sin one person can commit against another. But I admit to being taken aback by hearing it expressed in such a strong way. In our day, murder, as long as it is “legal”, is just a distasteful thing that has to be done, while a dozen other, lesser sins are considered to be utterly unconscionable. It’s not the deaths of the babies that are outrageous, but the subsequent selling of the parts. After all, that is illegal.

That’s like saying the Jews probably needed to go in a lot of cases, and maybe just a few were unnecessarily killed, but the real horror was in the theft of their property and making lampshades of their skin. Yes, the Nazis were bad for murdering so many Jews, but if it had been illegal to then use the remains for lamps, surely they wouldn’t have done that. They only go as far as they’re legally allowed! When what they are legally allowed is the absolute worst they could do to a person, we certainly can’t expect them to behave in an “ethical” way afterwards, can we?

Why shouldn’t they, and we, benefit further? The babies are dead anyway, aren’t they?

And we wonder why God is rapidly dismantling our nation. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

…er…I mean children of God. Yeah. That’s what I meant.

I’m not a scrapbooking kind of mom. Break out the albums, stickers, and fancy-edging scissors for a little quality time with the gals, and I begin to feel vaguely nauseous, headachy, and…well, maybe I’ll just come visit another time. Call me when there’s just coffee and a book (full of words, please) to discuss. This induces not a little mommy-guilt, because I’m pretty sure that we can’t really be said to be treasuring these times if we haven’t glorified them in high-gloss, non-acidic frippery. More power to those who have the knack for beautifying things that way, and there’s not a thing wrong with it if you do. But I do not.

I do, however, have a hard drive or two full of candid shots, and recently, after years of ignoring them, I got enough gumption to have a few of them printed. I even framed some of my favorites, thusly:


Then I started feeling all crafty, and I thought “Maybe I could dress it up with a silver pen. I could do that! I could write a beautiful verse or thought on the frame between all those sweet faces! Wonder what would be best…”

And then I hit on just the right thing.

Thou shalt have no other gods before me.

That might be a little unusual, right on the wall like that. My calligraphy skills are such that I would most likely just ruin the frame, so I came to my senses fairly quickly. I put the frame back on the wall and—wisely, I think–forgot all about getting fancy.

The thought hasn’t left me, though. It is so easy, when you’re raising your children “by hand”, as the saying goes, to get a little too attached to them, isn’t it? Day in, day out, you’re with them, you’re focused on them, you’re winning them to Christ, you’re learning all of their sweetnesses and talents, they are truly a joy. We can become so attached, in fact, that we can start to give them the wrong place in our hearts.

Here’s an example I see a lot in the homeschooling world: My well-reared, Christian-worldviewing, homeschooled children are going to save the world!

We may be in danger of forgetting that it is Jesus who must save our little sinners. No matter how well they know their catechism, our children are not the salvation for which this world groans.

Or another, more common one: I don’t want my child to miss out on the culture by doing things too differently. Choosing a mate, feminism, modesty, entertainments, evolution, issues ad infinitum. I know the world’s way is not the best way–it’s downright wrong, actually–but he might resent me for raising him to be so culturally “irrelevant” later. 

I have had this trepidation before, and written about it. Believe me, I know. But basing choices on the child’s potential future rejection of the faith is giving them veto power over what you know the Scriptures expect of you as a parent. Deciding to compromise on the “little things” because you don’t want them to be bitter should they choose not to follow Christ, is not “choosing your battles.” Though I do like the phrase in other contexts, this is not “grace-based parenting,” either. It is compromising the truth so that your unbelieving adult children will have a high opinion of you. You love them. You don’t want to lose them. I get that. But this is idolatry. It’s also a really good way to ensure that they become unbelieving adults. But at least they’ll still call you on Mother’s Day!

How about this one?: I know I should speak out on certain topics, that I should share the gospel freely and with love, even in the face of a mob; but that kind of stuff will get you crucified, or at the very least cost you your livelihood. My children are so small that I don’t want to see them persecuted. 

No. Other. Gods.

I should correct that sarcastic, disrespectful mouth before it develops into habitual unholy cynicism, but he’s just so clever with words. He could be a famous comedian someday!

God surely understands when we allow our children to sit in the seat of mockers just because he’s so good at it. Right?

So, yeah, writing the the first commandment on the picture frame in my living room might raise a few visitors’ eyebrows. I’d have to explain it every time someone comes to dinner. Besides, I’m terrible at decorating things, and my handwriting is awful, and it would be kinda tacky done by somebody as artistically inept as I.


Maybe I could use a stencil.

But the funeral sure was grand!

I don’t blog to make myself feel better, but to think things through, and hopefully shine a little light in the process. I usually keep my feelings to myself, because emoting is a sure way to bore people out of existence. But, this time, I’m going to share. I had been feeling incredibly discouraged about blogging for months, just wondering if it was any use to anybody. Because I don’t have the emotional bandwidth for it, I stopped reading incoming links, counting subscriptions, and tracking traffic. I have no idea who, if anyone, is reading anymore. That is in many ways a good thing, and I’m going to continue it. But it had led me to think that maybe only a half-dozen or so kind souls were still reading, and maybe just because they didn’t want me to feel all alone on this great big internet. I thought I was wasting my time, and I’ve agonized over the idea of quitting for at least a year.

And then I wrote a couple of posts that left me feeling all kinds of…unwomanly. You see, I have an absolute horror of becoming something like a Joyce Meyer or an Anne Graham Lotz. Seriously, watch this woman teach other women to take on authority within the church, then tell me the thought of becoming like that wouldn’t keep you up at night. I wouldn’t dream of attempting to lead men and women in a more formal way, and I just started wondering if I was going to end up there, rather than (as my friend Rebecca sees it) sitting off by the side, more like a Deborah, speaking in a less public manner.

It seems no one else, including my very wise husband, saw it the same way I did. I know you gals. You’d tell me if I was out of line. It’s one of the reasons I keep blogging. You keep me very, very humble. You’re a gifted bunch of dissenters. So, I guess I didn’t step out as far as I’d feared I had. I do take this as a serious warning from the Holy Spirit that I’d better be more mindful of who my proper audience is. But maybe that one mistake doesn’t mean I’m a complete disgrace, right?

I am incredibly humbled by the knowledge that there are actually people still reading this dusty old pile of pixels because they want to. The mind boggles. If you’ll forgive me for all the drama (I mean, really, what kind of person throws her own funeral and then shows up to hear the eulogies? Ugh!), I’d like to write a little while longer. Mea culpa.

I will try not to do that again.

I Think That’s All

I’ve been thinking about my writing. Most of it until now has been written just to help myself sort out my thoughts. I hope that it has, in some way, been useful to others. But I feel like I’ve stepped over a line in the last few posts (I have deleted edited the ones of which I speak, and I think they’re fine now I’m sorry if you had linked to them). I spoke where a woman ought to be silent. I will never stop telling people the good news of Christ. I may come back to this site sometime. But I will be more careful in the future about speaking directly to “the Church” as if I had authority to do so.

Observation is good. I don’t think I’m wrong in any of the particulars. But I regret some of my tone and direction. This is not the task I’ve been given. I’ve always known that, and tried to be careful to write as a student, not a teacher. I might very well be finished with writing entirely, given the weight of my mistake here. One of the reasons blogging has been so light is that I’m just finished thinking through most of the things that I started blogging for.

I think I’m finished, at least until I see some use for my gifts in the areas in which I do have authority. My domain doesn’t expire for a while. This will sit here until I have to pay someone to keep it up, and then I will decide what to do from there. I don’t want to waste my work. I’m kind of attached to it. But by then I may be ready to disappear. (Or, I might be back tomorrow with news of what kind of baby I’m having. I’ve always been flighty like that. But I truly have to get a new direction, so…well…you know. Whatever. 😉 )

As if to confirm my reticence to continue in this direction, this was in my feed reader this morning. Gurnall on stepping out of your place:

“I dare not say, that every private Christian who hath in these times taken upon him the minister’s work, did intend to make such a combustion in the church as hath been, and still sadly is among us. God forbid I should think so! But, O that I could clear them from being accessory to it, in that they have fired the hedge which God hath set between the minister’s calling and people’s. If we will acknowledge the ministry a particular office in the church of Christ,—and this I think the word will compel us to do,—then we must also confess it is not any one’s work, though never so able, except called to the office. There are many in a kingdom to be found, that could do the prince’s errand, it is like, as well as his ambassador, but none takes the place but he that is sent, and can shew his letters credential.”

A Sad Prediction

You know what makes me really sad? With gay marriage enshrined in law, it is going to be very difficult for a repentant person to extract himself from that lifestyle. Now the law itself will endeavor to keep men and women in contact with the “spouse” they’ve left behind, via custody disputes over the children they’ve had “together.” As if such a thing were even possible. And the children, of course, mean nothing whatsoever. Marriage is, after all, just about two people. Until it isn’t.

God help us. There are going to be a lot of bleeding souls to bandage up.

I’m Not One to Say “I Told You So”

But…actually, I am. I told you so. 

(Note: I have edited this post somewhat after realizing that I was too angry, and (I do think) too direct for a layperson, and a woman with no authority to speak to the Church as a whole. This message does seem too needed to leave in the trash bin, so here it is, slightly humbled. Sorry about that.)

I am, thankfully, not using any social media anymore, so I can only imagine the glee on one side and the anguished ranting on the other about the SCOTUS’s shiny “new” definition of marriage. I have, however, spent enough time on social media in the past to be able to pretty well guess how the reactions went. I doubt many on either side acquitted themselves with dignity and intelligence. I’m certain I wouldn’t have. Social media has a way of erasing actual thought in favor of emotive soap-boxing. It’s why I quit.

Naturally, I had my own reaction: a profound and silent sadness descended on me. What I’ve always known was coming has finally arrived. Not just a tyrannical government legislating away reality (they’ve been doing that for a while, but most people somehow failed to notice), but a “Christian” community still sitting around vehemently blaming teh gays for what they, themselves have done to marriage. Some self-reflection and repentance is in order, and I’ve waited for the actual Christian leaders to call for it so I could link to them. No dice. It seems a two-bit mommy-blogger with little time and even less credibility for such things is the only one who’s noticing (quel surprise). Maybe it’s because I’m a crackpot, like most of the Christians say, but maybe it’s because I’m right and the sickness in Christianity is so far advanced that all of the doctors are sick, too. When there are no doctors, you call a mama for advice, right? (Actually, here’s one linked to by a commenter,  so I stand corrected. Listen to this guy.)

I have a sneaking suspicion that if the majority opinion written by Justice Kennedy had been about, say, the right of a (no-fault, of course) divorced woman and her upgrade to tie the knot, despite the weeping of the children who have been torn from their father, is there any part of that reasoning that most church-goers would have disagreed with? Truly, this was no legal opinion, but a manifesto of selfish love, with a veneer of legal language scraped ever so lightly across the top. A schmear, really. A scant glaze. We’d lap that stuff up with a spoon if it wasn’t about icky homosexuals.

But it’s the entire purpose of marriage that is warped in this definition, not just the idea of who can reasonably be said to be marriageable.

You see, Christians, this was decided this a long time ago, back when protestants decided that birth control was a great idea, that there could be no sin whatsoever in the choosing of it. This was the social signal that proclaimed what we all now affirm: marriage is about two people and their love for one another. Everything else is just “if you want it.”

Kids, if you want them. Raised in the nurture and admonition of the Lord, if you can carve out time for that between the dual incomes and extracurricular activities. Forever, if you want to. Till death do us part, if he’s good enough, and if she keeps herself attractive. Married in the sight of God by a minister, if you care for that sort of thing. When staying together “for the sake of the kids” (if you had any) became a socially unacceptable reason to remain married, the last nail was driven into the coffin. But that wasn’t the first one. The first one was the acceptance of the idea that children are a limited blessing, not an unmitigated one, and certainly not a mandate for married couples from very lips of the Almighty.

In the chapter of my, er, e-pamphlet entitled “But Marriage Isn’t Just for Making Babies“, and also in my post “Why Are We Trying to Save Marriage?” I laid out my view that the current definition of marriage used by supposedly traditional Christians is actually a great deal closer to “gay” marriage than it is to natural marriage as described in the Bible. Much lip service is paid to the sanctity of marriage, but in truth Feminism is the guiding light of the modern church, and birth control is its enabler. The Focus on the Family model of marriage is much closer to that mandated by the Too-Supreme Court last week than it is to the Biblical understanding of the natural family. As Andrew Sullivan likes to say, “We are all Sodomites now.”


Christians, as the salt of the Earth, we had the responsibility to be salty, to reject the “me, me, me” model of marriage in favor of that set forth by the Creator of the family, and we did not do that. The Light of the World left everyone else in darkness, but somehow it’s the World’s fault that they can’t see how hideous their relationships have become. We can put a spiritual mirror right in front of them, but they can’t see the reflection without the Light!

Most of those who were directly responsible for the cultural change that we’re belatedly mourning are either dead or extremely old by now. This “sudden” redefinition of marriage has been a long time coming. Those of us who lived out that erroneous model of the family because we were raised in ignorance don’t get ourselves off the hook for perpetuating it just because we didn’t know. We still have our own selfishness to account for. We can still repent of what our fathers have taught us about marriage and family.

While we’re calling gays to repentance, don’t we have some repenting of our own to do? While we’re rightly demanding the government to restore marriage, don’t we need to restore it in our own understanding, as well?

Or do we prefer to continue treating marriage as if it were ours, to be entered, enjoyed, and disposed of in whatever fashion makes us happy? If so (and I sadly suspect it is so, given the number of Christians who have called me a fool for saying this utterly unsurprising and thoroughly biblical stuff), then I suggest you line up behind those confused, degenerate, hell-bound gays and affirm their marriages along with the government. If we’re not as a people going to get back to treating marriage as a sacred covenant, rather than a personally beneficial economic and sexual arrangement, then we might as well put the rainbow on our own Facebook profiles, because they only want the same thing so many professing Christians already have, and that is not traditional marriage, no matter what we want to call it.


Mother of Many, Used Up, Worn Out

“You poor thing!”

While I have a few times evoked this gasp of pity from passersby, it is much more often that my husband hears it: “Your wife is pregnant with your seventh child? That poor thing!

I get the impression (and occasionally I have heard it bluntly asserted) that, because he is outside the home all day doing something “fulfilling”, and I’m the one bearing the offspring and putting in most of the face time with them, he is putting too much on me. Kind of a cad, actually. It seems he is deeply harming me by…well, by sleeping with me, I guess. He should be more considerate than to keep knocking me up like this. While he’s going about his wonderful, liberated life, I’m stuck here at home, barefoot, pregnant (yes, I am, due in November), and wallowing in constant boredom, drudgery, and misery.

Well, I don’t know about you, but nine or ten hours a day of irate customers, bosses on the one hand and employees on the other, all needing something from you, broken computers with large businesses hanging on their being fixed, personnel problems to solve, maybe the occasional scarfed down lunch or walk (gotta choose one or the other, though) between calls and meetings, and then usually a splitting headache by dinnertime to top it all off sounds like paradise to me!

Considering how many times a day I have to engage in the grueling labor of cuddling a toddler, eating a lunch that can take just as long as I need it to, reading during nap time, communing with six truly adorable people, coming and going as I please, and just generally running things my own way, with only the kindest of masters (that would be my husband, if you couldn’t tell) to answer to at the end of the day…well, I can totally see how people have concluded that I am the one to be pitied.

Now, Jesse is not a complainer, so I really don’t know if he feels burdened by this accusation so many seem to hurl at him: that somehow the mother of his many children is being harmed and enslaved by her boorish husband, rather than living out an exalted calling while being supported with both her husband’s full paycheck and his whole heart. What about the burden Jesse bears? Does anybody ever say “You poor man! You must have nothing but wife and children to think of! Where’s the fun in that?”

I don’t know. Maybe they do. If so, he’s never told me about it. He probably wouldn’t. Maybe all the married men stand around grousing about the demands their families make on them all day. Certainly I’ve witnessed enough women doing that, or I wouldn’t have much to write about some days. How awful it must be for Jesse to have that many people to think of before himself!

But to judge by the reactions that I see, it seems to be primarily the female who is to be pitied in the traditional family life. I’m guessing it’s the practiced, targeted whining of feminism that has made it so. Men just aren’t as good at the woe is me shtick, it seems. Women’s “liberation” implies some slavery from which to liberate the poor dears, right? Even though the poor man never seems to have enough money to buy the sports car he is almost certainly hoping to obtain before he’s too old to actually drive it. And he never gets to go to Hooters with the boys (not that we actually know any men who do that), or go to the bar after work instead of home, or spend his evening hours with porn in place of demanding bride.

He does get to play his fair share of video games, though, so I guess there’s that.

So what about that poor fella? Doesn’t he get a little sympathy, being yoked to a barefoot, pregnant (again), uneducated hillbilly who “never had a thought in her head except to say yes, and no, and raise a passel of mealy-mouthed brats just like her”?

And of course, I kid to make a point. It’s all in how you spin things, isn’t it? Jesse’s life is not that hard, and mine is not (quite) that easy.

Jesse is actually living a pretty good, though mockably (by the lights of this sin-tarnished age) squeaky-clean life. He’s got a reasonably well-behaved brood of children who always shout “Daddy!” and rush to meet him as soon as his car hits the driveway. He has a wife to whom he is happy to come home, and who is then sorry to see him leave. She is also (let us hope) an asset to him in the running of his household.

In spite of the pitiful description I gave, he actually has a really great job at a company he loves to be part of. He earns (as opposed to merely receiving) his income, and even if he isn’t yet wealthy enough to buy both the 12 passenger van and the gaming rig he has been pining for, he deserves the respect due a man who pulls his own weight and that of 8 other people. And that is a really cool van he bought me.

Instead of pitying me for being married to such a neanderthal, how about showing some respect for this good man? His wife is neither put-upon, nor used up. I do hope to be used up by the end of my life, though, so don’t misunderstand that. I’m not trying to make my life as easy and pleasant as possible. I’ve been given a few womanly talents, and I’m not going to leave them just lying around doing nothing, lest I spoil my precious hands. I’m going to turn them into something for my Master (that would be Jesus, if you weren’t sure).

Neither husband nor wife in this model of the family is being unfairly used to the other’s advantage. Neither of us is a slave-owner, a parasite, or a moocher living off the labor of the other. We are yoke-mates, headed in the same direction, with the same goal. Yes, he is the head of the family, and I do defer to him. He’s the boss of me. If I didn’t obey him, we’d be plowing a very crooked furrow, wouldn’t we? But in no way does that mean that I am being treated cruelly. He is still, after all, pulling both first and hardest, giving honor (status, special care, pride of place) to me as to the weaker vessel.

 What a meanie.


A Thing or Two

  • Browsing Amazon for a new Bible. They all come with a lifetime guarantee. Should be an eternal guarantee, dontcha think?
  • Every time I eat ice cream I update Mark Twain’s dictum in my head “There are three kinds of lies: lies, damned lies, and serving sizes.”
  • As Samaritan Ministries, International members, we pay our own medical bills and scrutinize them very closely. Consequently, we are all too aware of the shenanigans that hospitals and doctors can try to pull on you. You have to be vigilant, and even when you are, you could still be shafted by a system that is nothing short of predatory, and yet protected by law in its skullduggery. My father, also a member, was recently billed for a full panel of blood tests, though he had only given consent for cholesterol screening. I’ve had a problem with a doctor I’d never met or heard of being “consulted” and billing me as well. Anesthesiologist for a woman who gave birth naturally? This stuff happens. Pay attention to your bills and ask questions, even if you have insurance.
  • What if you knew that people often cannot get a quote on a procedure before it is performed and even if they do hospitals and other medical centers will frequently bill for other things without consent, even when it could have been provided, and then demand payment? Such a practice in virtually any other business, such as auto repair, air conditioning and heating work and similar is a criminal act under state consumer protection laws, incidentally. That happens literally every single day in medical centers and hospitals as well. Read the whole thing here.

  • I read this post of Dan’s while drinking coffee, and still thought it was spot on, so I guess I’m not a hyper-caffeinated Calvinist. Just caffeinated.
  • And finally, if you’re not reading Matt Moore, you’re missing a blessing. This post of his made me cry for joy and gratitude. When I was a new Christian, I relapsed into my old habits and nearly destroyed myself, and certainly did a great deal of damage to the gospel with my hypocrisy. But God is good, and he is constant, without a shadow of turning, so here I am in spite of me. Praise Him! Matt’s failure, like mine, was threefold, with this being the real hangup for me:

    …the believer’s need to be in community with other believers. The reason I am so passionate about this is because I’ve learned, through painful error, how valuable Christian community is. The third massive change in my life post-relapse is that I no longer walk this walk independently and flee from the family-lifestyle God has called me to. I now view myself not as an individual but as part of a body and I passionately embrace the believers around me with my whole heart.

    Go read Matt Moore. What a lovely witness.

In Case You Were Trying to Reach Me

I’m not on Twitter, Facebook, Pinterest, or any other social media anymore. I also turn blog comments off after a scant ten days per post. So if you’ve gone looking for a way to contact me recently, you’ve probably been disappointed. Or possibly you were relieved, depending on why you were looking for me. I guess I owe some explanation for disappearing when I had spent so long building these (two-dimensional, but still fun) relationships. Really, the disappearance has been so gradual that very few have probably noticed the final closing of the doors. But humor me. Pretend you care a little.

It’s not easy to confess faults that most people probably don’t share or understand, but I can’t be the only one with this problem, so I reluctantly share this.

As I’ve intimated before in this space, social media has been a stumbling block in my life. It is, frankly, too compelling for me. People I don’t even know, let alone owe anything to, attract far more attention than my actual neighbors, starting with the ones nearest me, my children. In the past several years, I have repeatedly had to repent of my inattention to these little ones, and to the people down the street who deserve a face-to-face smile rather than an emoticon. For the last little while, I have pulled back from social media in favor of real society. I didn’t quit it entirely (though I have done that a few times and come back). I just started to see it for the hindrance that it was. I finally reached a point where the idea of leaving the social media for good, especially Facebook, became a relief, so that’s what I did.

I repent.

I don’t know what social media does to every brain, but I can’t possibly be the only one for whom interacting with a screen can easily supplant real human interaction. I’ve come to see social media as a similar danger to pornography, in the sense that it rewires the brain to seek a different, non-commital kind of social gratification. It is not inherently wrong in the way that pornography is, but anything can become a sin. Anything can be addictive, especially when there are hordes of programmers designing algorithms to intentionally addict you, keep you on the page, click, click, clicking away, not only for the sake of advertisers, but likely for political and social reasons that one might be called paranoid for suspecting.

When you enjoy the written word the way I do, the danger of addiction is, I’m guessing, far stronger than for most people. I connect with written words. So I made even the people I care about into nothing but collections of words. Like pornography does with sexual relationships, those interactions then bear little resemblance to the real relationships when we are face to face.

While my children and husband have, thankfully, not been literally neglected beyond the occasional “just a minute, sweetie”, they have been subjected to my moods, incomprehensible to them because they were irrelevant to anything they could see going on in our home. They’ve often had to deal with my disorganization (something that is not a natural fault of mine) because some political controversy or parenting discussion has driven me to distraction.

The impact in my home has, hopefully, been minor. But my neighbors have been neglected. My church family has been neglected. My extended family has been neglected, though it didn’t feel that way to me because “they” were right there on the screen in front of me. But that’s not really them. Like I’ve said before somewhere, humans need to be able to touch and smell each other to have real relationships. (I would, of course, not advise going around literally touching and sniffing everyone just to be sure they’re really real. That would be odd.)

Social media causes misallocation of resources.

I have given money to people in far away places only because social media got to me first, and later found that someone close to me has needed it far worse. There have been times when I’ve spent too much emotional energy on strangers and withdrawn from my family because I no longer have the focus to even notice their needs. I have spent time counseling people who might very well be lying about their situations just to get a damning quote to paste into some hateful anti-Christian forum where I am the unsuspecting topic of the day. This happens more often than a blog this obscure warrants, and I doubt I’ve been clever enough to never give such a quote, though I’m always aware of the possibility of that kind of trolling. I could have been counseling people in the flesh whose lives and motives I am capable of knowing for certain, but I spent my time online instead. My neighbors are people who, admittedly, might be able to hurt me far worse than an internet troll, but they also might benefit from godly counsel in a way that people on the web most likely cannot. And, more importantly, I could have been receiving counsel myself, from people who are capable of knowing me.

I’m going local.

I’m all about supporting local agriculture and business, even though it costs me more, because I consider it to be part of loving my neighbor, encouraging their strengths and feeding their families in a way that utilizes their gifts and instills dignity in their work. It also ensures that I’m not getting ground up sawdust in my food or supporting harmful business practices. I’m not always able to buy local, for a lot of reasons, but when I can, I like to look right into the eyes of the person who produced my goods when I pay for them.

Local relationships should, one would think, take that kind of precedence as well. The trouble with that is that both business and relationships cost more when you conduct them locally, face to face. So be it. Chinese products are cheap. So are social media relationships. Keeping it local is a way to make sure that not only my neighbor, but the people halfway across the world that I can’t truly know, are treated the way they should be, at least as far as I am able to discern.

Of course, where relationships are concerned, my sister in Singapore and many of my friends in other states are still to be considered local. 😉

Blogging is, depending on how you do it, also a form of social media, but it is one that I can turn off and on when appropriate. I’m still here, and I don’t currently have plans to go away, so the contact form and comments are still a way to reach me.

If you want to.