Has it really come to this?

Never before have I lost my glasses. They've always been stuck to my face, ever since the third grade when I crept into class that first day with my new cat-eye glasses. But now, there are multiple pairs… and where did I put those reading glasses?!

And there are pills doled out at breakfast—Am I becoming my mother?! Pills to make up for missing sunshine. Pills to rejuvenate aging eyes. Pills to ward off aging…(?!)

And what's this minty scent that wafts me through my days? Ben-Gay?! Yes, they still make the stuff, but surely this sore shoulder muscle isn't here to stay…

Hmm… skin cancer, could this little spot be it? I have just read up on what ''Basal Cell Carcinoma" is. Now for the doctor's appointment. Whoever thought about these things before?

Yes, it's really come to this. I'm getting old. I'm past the half-way point and heading for the home lap assuming it will be shorter, harder and less fun than the first half but really not at all clear what it will be like! Family life is all I've known. I peek back over my shoulder at the happy olden days and wonder how I can pack them away in albums and move on before turning into a pillar of salt from the tears!

To compound my sense of loss, my career as a homeschool teacher of 23 years is ending, abruptly, soon. I feel like a student myself with this deadline looming with such finality. Whether I learned all my lessons or not, whether the assignments got done well or not, the term is up. My work is due 'as is' for grading. How did I do? What have I accomplished? There is no grade point average for me this time around. My five graduates will live with the results, for better or worse. (Now there's a disturbing thought!)

And I’m aching for reassurance that I did good. (I know that’s not good grammar, but it’s what a soul wants to know). I don’t need affirmation in the Comment Box, I need to hear from my Supervisor that He is pleased. Only His Words will suffice to displace this sagging feeling that my best was not good enough.

Never mind ‘best’, who can honestly say they’ve done their best day in-day out for the length of a career? Really? No, we bring at our work what we have to bring, ourselves. And being human and faulted with great cracks and fissures, we bring our weaknesses. These too go into the mix that will make up the final product. All these years and lesson plans and books later I have completed my assignment. The term is ended. But I’m not sure I’ve done a good enough job.  Five fledgling adults educated under my watch are trying their wings in the real world while I sit on the sidelines watching, and waiting, and wondering how we’ve done (and what’s next?!)...

Against this backdrop of doubt and insecurity God speaks Words I need to hear: a call, a gentle correction and a healthier orientation. And I must admit, deep down past all my Eeyore impulses and growing (old) pains, I am excited despite myself for what's to come. I am ready for a new stage. As armloads and boxes of books head out the door the bookshelves stand enticingly empty for a new round of learning. Living spaces too are refigured for new purposes. Life is brightened with endless possibilities. I've even found renewed enthusiasm for gardening. Turning soil and pulling weeds in hopes of new life to come is therapeutic!

But just case you too are in a stage not quite comfortable, not quite confident, not quite all you hoped it would turn out to be, may I offer you the words that have encouraged me this week—a call, a correction, and a new orientation?

First there was this call.  A friend unwittingly pointed me here, to Solomon’s love Song, a picture of lover’s bliss and ultimately of Christ’s love for His bride.  May I paraphrase the Lover’s words?

Listen, hear the birds, see the flowers?  It is springtime.  So, ‘arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away….let me see your face, let me hear your voice…catch the foxes for us, the little foxes that spoil the vineyards, for our vineyards are in blossom.’ 

In each new season of life, Christ calls us to come to Him, to talk to him, to be known by Him, and not to let anything spoil the yield in our vineyard. 

In these winsome words I am reminded of my primary calling, to know and be known by Christ.  This is what really matters.  Many will call Him ‘Lord, Lord’ and point to all their ‘wonderful works’ as evidence of this relationship, but He will profess: “I never knew you; depart from me.” Mt.7:22,23 No amount of work done in His name will make up for a failure to be known by Him.  He’s not so much interested in what I’ve done, as in knowing me.  And so He calls, “come away…let me see your face, let me hear your voice…”.  Here is my invitation to put aside doubts of sufficient worthiness and relax ‘as is’ in the sheer delight of being His desired companion.

A gentle correction came one quiet morning as I sat by the woodstove warding off the chill, reading and thinking, and fretting too, over my failures in this final year of school—technical details and ‘holes’ in our education.  The story of Martha and Mary was before me and I heard Martha’s accusation as I had not heard it before:  “Lord, do you not care that I have to do everything? Tell Mary to help.”  Jesus wouldn’t consent.  He knew Martha was pre-occupied with lesser things and that Mary had found what was important. 

How easy it is to use prayer as a means of getting God to see we need help that He can surely provide.  Surely He will help us accomplish our goals.  How often have I been frustrated this year that school is not what I want it to be?  And even now, short on weeks and long on unmet goals Jesus’ words come with gentle reproof:  Linda, Linda, “you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary.”  And what was that one thing that Mary was doing?  She was sitting at Jesus’ feet and listening to His teaching. 

Martha had been the one to welcome Him into their home, but she’d lost sight of the value of His company, in her conscientious effort to serve Him.   And again a still small voice beckons me to let go my determination of what needs to be done and listen to what’s on Jesus’ heart.  After all, were we to master all the finer points of grammar and writing, of science and math yet not have learned to value time spent with Jesus, what would we have accomplished? 

Lord, forgive my obsessions with lesser things. Thank-you for denying my demands in order to point me to what is most important.  I am grateful.  Make your priorities for my kids mine also.  When your Kingdom and your Righteousness are first in our hearts, the rest will fall into place as you intend. (Mt.6:33)

The final word of encouragement that has given me a fresh orientation came by way of a wise blogger mom at a similar life stage to my own.  In her ‘keeping it real’ way she arrested my attention with these words:  “It is not our calling to ‘raise Godly children’”.  What?!  She went on to clarify by way of contrast:

"It is our calling :

• to be authentic believers and live out the gospel before our children.
• to nurture, instruct, guide, love, and pray for our children.
• to share God's Word, and share the gospel with our children.

God is the only one who can work in a child's heart and change him into a godly person. His Spirit draws them, opens their eyes, and changes and matures them.”

--Gina Smith at http://www.keepinitrealgina.com

 

A subtle shift in meaning, you say?  No, for me it was an essential reminder not to assume a role never intended for me.  It may be my desire for my children to all be more perfect and godly than I, but this is not my job description. It cannot be.  Only God can make any of us godly!  We are called to love, to nurture, to teach and to discipline and perhaps most of all to depend on God to do these things through us and  in spite of us.  We all fail in many ways.  We don’t do the things we ought, the things we wish we had, or even all the things we could.  But God in His great mercy calls us each to Himself, loves us dearly and invites us to know and be known by Him.  And at my age, this is a good place to have come to.

--LS

For we know in part and we prophesy in part,
but when the perfect comes, the partial will pass away. I Cor.13:9,10

For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. So now faith, hope, and love abide, these three; but the greatest of these is love. I Cor.13:12,13

“My beloved is mine, and I am his…” Sgs.2:13

The manifold grace of God

I needed grace this week.  I need it always I suppose, the need is just more evident at some times than others. And God’s grace picked me up and carried me through another week of homeschooling.  Perhaps someone prayed, I know I did.  I had been reading of Moses, and was envying him, not because of his oh-so-difficult-job but because it seemed so simple for him to just ‘cry out to the Lord’ for help and then hear some specific instruction from Him.

Like the time the Israelites are all cornered at the Red Sea and God says: ‘Lift up your staff; stretch out your hand.’  (Ex.14) and voila, the sea parts. 

Or, the time when the water’s undrinkably bitter and everyone’s thirsty--‘look there’s a tree’ and Moses throws it into the bitter water and it is made sweet. (Ex.15)

Then there’s the time when the people are about to stone Moses, again, because they’re thirsty. And the Lord says: “strike the rock, and water shall come out of it.”(Ex.17)

The contingencies keep coming.  Moses keeps calling out for help. God keeps instructing him in what to do.  I felt a little envious of Moses, (though I think I’m changing my mind, having taken a second look at the miserable job he had!) because it seems God answered him so clearly, with such specific instructions.  And I was wishing I would get such detailed lesson plans.  Then I had to wonder, is it that God’s not instructing?  Or that I’m not listening well?   I read somewhere once that the prerequisite for hearing from God, is a heart ready to do whatever He says. Moses was known as the meekest man that ever lived for a reason.  He was ready and listening for every drop of counsel God would give, glad to comply!

But in retrospect, though I did not get an audible response to my pleas for guidance—little germs of wisdom did begin to gel in my mind. Insights, ideas, new ways of doing things presented themselves.  And fresh determination and renewed hope seemed to spring up overnight. I didn’t have to raise a staff, or toss a tree, or strike a rock but grace did flow and it was enough for one more week in our journey.  God’s manifold grace was evident.

God always makes a  way, still.  In temptation he promises a ‘way of escape’. In weakness he promises ‘sufficient grace’. In times of plenty he instructs us to maintain thankful hearts.  His grace is always there though at times we may miss seeing it or experiencing it…  

‘See to it that no one fails to obtain the grace of God; that no "root of bitterness" springs up and causes trouble, and by it many become defiled’ (Heb.12:15)

“I do not treat the grace of God as meaningless. For if keeping the law could make us right with God, then there was no need for Christ to die.” (Gal.2:21 NLT)

The stories of the children of Israel illustrate this so well.  There they were on the verge of entering the Land of Canaan at last—the spies go in and find it ‘’an exceedingly good land” (Numb.14:7ff) Joshua and Caleb try to persuade the people that “if the Lord delights in us, He will bring us into this land and give it to us…” But all the other spies can talk about are the giants and the insurmountable difficulties they will have to face. They fail to obtain the grace of God.  This grace is contingent on faith in God’s ability, not our own.  It requires confidence that what we are too weak to tackle, He is well able to take care of.

Fear led the people to rebel against God’s direction. They missed out on what His grace would have provided.  And the Lord took them to task: “How long will this people despise me?  And how long will they not believe in me? in spite of all the signs I have done among them?” (Num.14:11)  GULP.  God’s grace is always there for every task He sets before us.  We can access it by faith, or brush it aside in fear and obstinacy to ‘do it my way’. Wow.    The verdict was not good for these folks.  They would traipse about in the wilderness for another 40 years till the whole adult population had died.  The children would suffer for their parents’ faithlessness. (Num.14:33)

Wow (again).  A pertinent object lesson for me.  I am so grateful for grace, the grace I’ve been shown this week, the multi-faceted graces of God scattered through all my days.

As we receive God’s grace, we become stewards of it to others “…as good stewards of the manifold grace of God.”  (I Pet.4:10) This concept was brought home to me this week in the reading of Joni’s memoir: The God I Love, her story of a lifetime of walking with Jesus  through a degree of  disappointment, suffering and loss few of us will ever know.  It is a joyful testimony to God’s incredible grace as she embraced her lot (quadriplegia) and found God to be more real than she had ever imagined. It is God’s story of using Joni in her weakness to encourage innumerable others and to offer a perspective of eternity not easily come by in times of health and plenty.  Her story, her faithfulness to walk with Jesus in joy, is a gift of God’s grace that extends to me.

I have to take these things by faith. I have not known much suffering.  I sometimes fear because I’ve been given so much. Not just material goods, but faith, family, health, friendships, marriage, freedom, wisdom, the very Word of God!…so many good things.  So much to lose. (And so much to use. ‘To whom much is given much will be required’ is a haunting concept! But that’s another issue.)

Being one who fears suffering, I admire Job, who wouldn’t? Even Satan knew he was an amazing tribute to the grace of God—in the loss of everything but life itself he submitted to God his rights: The Lord gives and He  takes away. Blessed be the name of the Lord. (Job 1:21) What does any of us possess that is not a gift anyway?  When did it become an inalienable right?

It occurs to me that noone likes suffering, anymore than our kids enjoyed being disciplined. But we do fall down and scrape our knees. Bad dogs do bite. Pets do die, and people too. And we do get spankings. As children of God, we will suffer for one reason or another.  But by faith, I can hear such testimonies and know that there will be grace, because we will never lose Jesus.

I bumped into these words today, written more than a century ago: “The only inalienable gift I have, is a Divine Savior. He never will be taken away from me. He is mine--mine forever.” –Stephen Tyng

And right along these lines is a new ‘hymn’ I also met this week, another testimony to God’s sufficient grace in every circumstance.  With it I close:

I Run to Christ
[Click here to listen in]

I run to Christ when chased by fear
And find a refuge sure.
“Believe in me,” His voice I hear;
His words and wounds secure.

I run to Christ when torn by grief
And find abundant peace.
“I too had tears,” He gently speaks;
Thus joy and sorrow meet.

_____

I run to Christ when worn by life
And find my soul refreshed.
“Come unto Me,” He calls through strife;
Fatigue gives way to rest.

I run to Christ when vexed by hell
And find a mighty arm.
“The Devil flees,” the Scriptures tell;
He roars, but cannot harm.

_____

I run to Christ when stalked by sin
And find a sure escape.
“Deliver me,” I cry to Him;
Temptation yields to grace.

I run to Christ when plagued by shame
And find my one defense.
“I bore God’s wrath,” He pleads my case—
My Advocate and Friend.

----------
by Chris Anderson and Greg Habegger
with Gregg Howlett at the piano

The testimonies of ones who have walked with God and found Him good, these too are God’s gifts of grace to us--whether a beautifully penned memoir, or Christ-exalting lyrics, or  the tinkling of fingers on a keyboard… Whether a smile or a FB note or a warm hug,  all are gifts of God’s grace-- the wonderful manifold grace of God dished out by His stewards, tokens of His delight in His children. 

May we all have eyes to see and hearts to embrace
His all-sufficient manifold grace.

--LS

“The land, which we passed through to spy it out, is an exceedingly good land.  If the LORD delights in us, he will bring us into this land and give it to us, a land that flows with milk and honey.” Numbers 14:7,8

“You then, my child, be strengthened by the grace that is in Christ Jesus”
II Tim.2:1

-----------------------
If you enjoyed Gregg Howlett at the piano, consider No More Night, a spine tingling reminder of the good land yet to come!

For my review of Joni’s THE GOD I LOVE, go here.

A Good Place to be after all…

What mother of us has not felt as Moses surely felt standing before the burning bush…here I am barefoot, standing before you Lord.  You are saying you have a job for me to do?  I am chosen particularly for it…and yet, this job?  Who is sufficient for these things?  I am unqualified, overwhelmed, undone at the thought of it.  Yet, called, chosen, and out of options.  You are God.  I am your clay pot formed for your purposes…

You’d think that now, nearing the end of this phase of my career, I would see things differently…but I am also a homeschooling mother, and the finishing of highschool has never been easy.  There is no formula. Each child is different.  How is one ever ‘finished’ and ‘ready’ to be released into life on their own—in the big wide world where there is no mother at hand to come to the rescue…How does one really prepare a child for that?  And if it’s done poorly, whose fault is it? And who will suffer?

Never were these words so poignant as they are this week sounding in my ears: “Unless the Lord builds the house, they labor in vain who build it.” Ps.127:1  Unless the Lord is involved in the construction, it’s wood, hay and stubble that will burn, not a lasting product.  (I Cor.3:13,14) It’s a waste of time and energy, in other words.  What matters is what the Lord empowers, what He does in and through us, what He builds in us.

David knew this when he commissioned his son, Solomon, to build the temple he himself had not had the privilege of building. The task was not to be David’s but that didn’t stop him from gathering materials and doing all he could to encourage his son for the daunting task: "Now, my son, the LORD be with you that you may be successful, and build the house of the LORD your God just as He has spoken concerning you. Only, may the LORD give you discretion and understanding…that you may keep [His] law. Then you will prosper…Be strong and courageous.  Fear not; do not be dismayed.” I Chr.22:12,13

Maybe that’s the main thing any of us do as parents—we gather the stuff for the building of the next generation.  We point them to the Chief Architect and urge them to love the Lord their God with all their hearts and always to consult Him in everything.  Maybe that’s all this crisis is about for me—a reminder that the Lord is the One with the blueprint and only He can complete this work He’s laid out for me to participate it. 

Crisis is often invitation to run to the One who is what I’m not, the great “I AM” who mentored Moses.  The great I AM  who led him through the wilderness with a stiff-necked people in tow that tried even the patience of God with their grumbling obstinence!   This One Moses was continuously crying out to: "What shall I do to this people?”! ^Ex.17:4

Who would Moses have been without this assignment that left him so constantly in need of wisdom and desperate for intervention?  Would he have resorted to the Tent of Meeting so often—meeting with God as with a best Confidant so that his face shown in the afterglow?  Would he have been so intent on knowing God and having Him near, always?  And would he have experienced the glory of God—his mercy and grace, His slowness to anger, His steadfast love and faithfulness… (Ex.33:18ff) had he not been given this assignment to shepherd God’s children?

My own heart is calmed and softened as I ponder these things.  I am turned back to gratitude for this trust I have been given of shepherding some of God’s own children.  For I too am thereby made dependent on God’s mercies and compelled to know Him more and so reflect His glory. I too am dependent on the One who is all that I am not, and though I stand here nonplussed and barefoot, it is, after all,  a very good place to be.

--LS 

"Now therefore, I pray You, if I have found favor in Your sight, let me know Your ways that I may know You, so that I may find favor in Your sight. Consider too, that this nation is Your people. And He said, ‘My presence shall go with you, and I will give you rest.’" Ex.33:13,14

But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. II Cor.12:9

Then David said to his son Solomon, "Be strong and courageous, and act; do not fear nor be dismayed, for the LORD God, my God, is with you. He will not fail you nor forsake you until all the work for the service of the house of the LORD is finished.” I Chr.28:20

My Last-born Treasure

Well, it's been quite a week…may have started with a sag in hormones, but a bunch of things conspired to exacerbate the situation… Being the time of year that homeschoolers assess what's been accomplished (and what's been missed) in terms of academics, I was in this mode well before Rachel requested to see Micah's old writings. Oh boy. That was like opening a kettle of fish.

You see, Micah, our firstborn, was a prophet in his day. His portfolio, tucked carefully away in my closet, holds candid exposés of life as he experienced and perceived it in the Skelton household. The hurts and injustices, inconsistencies and hypocrisy are skillfully outlined in the form of essays and plays, written too accurately to miss or brush aside. There I am in all my glory (not!) trying to manage a household of jostling students who also happened to be my flesh and blood and bear my imperfections… The age comes when one's offspring are more apt to 'rise up and call you blessed' but this was not that age. The assessment I got was honest. And convicting. God's arrow to arrest us in our steps and help us to begin adding grace to the running of our household. But change takes time…Micah left the nest with his own custom baggage. This is not easy to face as a Mom, who wants only to live to bless her children, to love them well, to prepare them for their futures with good things… But the kettle was opened.

Add to this the feelings of nostalgia and regret that inevitably accompany digging through old school books. I had a phone call from a younger homeschool mom in the midst of this, asking for advice and recommendations and I was having a little dig-about to see what I could share… So many books we've waded through together. So many good memories. And always, so much left undone.

This would all be manageable if it were all history, but the writing of our history is not yet complete. You see, Rachel has yet one more critical year of school to finish, and I am VERY aware of this fact given the time of year we are at…Just a few more weeks of this year and then just o-n-e m-o-r-e y-e-a-r in which to teach her all she needs to know before we wave goodbye and she flies off to Bible school…Talk about pressure. And all these good books, so much potential learning, so much to cover, so much to think about…How are we gonna do it?! Too much to bear.

And then came Monday morning at breakfast over our customary Monday-cream-of-wheat. Rachel hadn't yet joined us. I opened my mouth to put in words the pressure I was feeling and the restless night and tortured waking thoughts, and well, the dam broke…I took my toast and tea and retreated to unload my heart...

'To you, O Lord, I call
my rock, be not deaf to me,
lest, if you be silent to me,
I become like those who go down to the pit.

Hear the voice of my pleas for mercy,
When I cry to you for help,
When I lift up my hands
Toward your most holy sanctuary…' Ps.28:1,2

And this is where Rachel found me when she popped her head in to ask what to do with my cold bowl of cream of wheat! Weird, seeing Mom with a blanket over her head all curled up in a ball…praying… for Rachel, for us, for the years locusts have nibbled on, for mercy, for forgiveness, for strength and wisdom, for HELP!

To you, O Lord, I lift up my soul…let me not be put to shame; Indeed none who wait for you shall be put to shame (Ps.25:1-3)

"Who is the man who fears the LORD? Him will he instruct in the way that he should choose. His soul shall abide in well-being, and his offspring shall inherit the land…" Ps.25:12,13

Praying for Rachel. My fearfully and wonderfully made last-born—this delightful child that undoes any sense of competence that I may have gained with the previous five children…delightfully herself, and so very different than her mother in many ways. She is my dreamer, a visionary that can see teddy bears as potential companions for orphans or old folks if I could just help her get an Organization rolling…She dances along with visions of sugarplums --the potential of all that could be, while I, pre-occupied with the fine print, run into barricades! She composes fiction like it’s the most natural thing in the world while I labor to ferret out facts and put them in order. She doodles in bears of every describable pose and occupation, while I look for models to painstakingly copy. We are different.

She loves to be celebrated; I prefer to be inconspicuous. She thrives on anticipation of 'exciting' things to come; I on the rhythm of the commonplace. And she knows how to SMILE and to HUG and to quiver with delight! "Are you excited Mom?!!" How many times have I tried to explain that excitement throws me off balance. I'm happy in a quiet way. I try not to look too far ahead, on purpose, so that today's business is not sabotaged with the emotional energy of anticipation… Makes no sense to a dreamer. So here we are in my 'old age' trying to figure each other out. Daily companions. Teacher and student. Mother and daughter. Improbable friends for a season of my life that might otherwise be bland and predictable…

And into this difficult day comes an essay by Rachel, inspired by her brother's of yesteryear perhaps… to be read aloud to Mom… You should know that Rachel's been reading Our Town, the play by Thornton Wilder. Do you know it? It's an extraordinary piece studied by generations of high schoolers for its unusually ordinary theme—the preciousness of everyday life. There is no particular plot. It takes place in a little-known small town where generations have lived and married and died without fanfare. And it poignantly reminds the reader how precious is each moment and detail of ordinary life. Sometimes only in the loss of a thing, or of life itself do we realize what we have had…

“Good-by, Good-by, world. Good-by, Grover's Corners... Mama and Papa. Good-by to clocks ticking... and Mama's sunflowers. And food and coffee. And new-ironed dresses and hot baths...and sleeping and waking up. Oh, earth, you're too wonderful for anybody to realize you.”

"Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it -- every, every minute?” ( from Our Town, Thornton Wilder)

So given that backdrop, here's Rachel to read me her daily piece of writing…

"As she walks out with her teddy bear tucked beneath her arm—the last thing in the house she had found hiding in the closet, she pauses at her room, remembering… [a host of words followed that evoked the return of my tears] …She's leaving this place, leaving for college. Her child-ness is gone. She's grown up. She smiles at her teddy bear."

Oh my! I escape to vent my tears only to hear a knock at the door instead and here's that young mom in need of some good books and homeschooling advice! Oh my! What treasure I've been entrusted with. It can't be time to wave the flag of surrender. Still there is a task at hand. Still a treasure to enjoy, and experience to share.

"Wait for the Lord; be strong and let your heart take courage; wait for the Lord…(Ps.27:14)

"Indeed, none who wait for you shall be put to shame." (Ps.25:3)

The week began like that. But one and another little thing have lifted my perspective back to waiting in anticipation of how God will see us through. One sweet conversation was part of that. Rachel shared with me her 'take' on how to be happy, no matter what comes… She watches morning by morning as we swallow our 'happy pills' (Vitamin D). She'll have none of it, just laughs that it's a mere placebo effect that makes us think we've braved the gloomy winter months on account of Vitamin D. Not her. At the start of 2011, she says, she decided she was going to be happy, no matter what the weather. And she has done it. Every morning she comes down to breakfast smartly dressed in her new 'business style' skirts and tops, her hair neatly put up in a girlish swirl. She eats, clears dishes and gets right to her school work. You wouldn't know she doesn't enjoy school. She just gets down to it. 'If you always wish for the weekends you'll waste your life just wishing for them,' she says. The same goes for the days that look 'fierce and scary'… you don't have to worry about them till they come. "I believe Grace will come when you most need it, not now just worrying about it." And she compared it to not needing the ticket for the plane a year ahead, only when it's actually time to board…

I wished I had recorded her words, just got the snatches she wrote down later. But there was something she said about smiling (she's always smiling!). She said something to the effect that 'I just go through the day thinking that everyone is smiling at me'! Well if that won't make a person happy! I think there's something to that. Maybe everyone's not smiling, but the One who matters most of all IS smiling when He watches us. That is something to live by! And maybe I'll learn to smile through my days yet with this Treasure under my roof. Bless you Rachel. You are God's gift to me!

There were other things that lifted my spirits…a vigorous tandem ride, getting out to weed the garden, taking time to paint and draw, reading Words of encouragement, the advice and loan of books by a friend, repenting, and putting action to good intention…but I will close with the words of a hymn that filled my thoughts one morning and turned my heart from hesitant 'unworthiness' to joy. It goes like this:

Arise, my soul, arise! Shake off thy guilty fears;
The bleeding Sacrifice In my behalf appears.
Before the throne my Surety stands; My name is written on His hands…

He ever lives above, For me to intercede;
His all redeeming love, His precious blood to plead;
His blood atoned for all our race, And sprinkles now the throne of grace…

[I had been reading Leviticus 10 and thereabouts. What a graphic picture is this laying one's hand on the head of the animal that is to be killed because of your sin, and then having its blood splashed on the altar. So serious, this sin. 'without shedding of blood there is no remission' of it!]

Five bleeding wounds He bears, Received on Calvary;
They pour effectual prayers, They strongly plead for me;
"Forgive him, O forgive," they cry, "Nor let that ransomed sinner die!"

The Father hears Him pray, His dear Anointed One;
He cannot turn away The presence of his Son;
His Spirit answers to the blood, And tells me I am born of God…

My God is reconciled, His pardoning voice I hear;
He owns me for His child, I can no longer fear;
With confidence I know draw nigh, And "Father, Abba, Father" cry…

If you haven't heard Twila Paris' rendition of this on her Sanctuary CD, don't miss it. Jim has posted it here.

May its message haunt you with hope as it has me!

"Blessed be the LORD! For He has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.
The LORD is my strength and my shield; in him my heart trusts, and I am helped;  My heart exults,  And with my song I give thanks to Him." (Ps.28:6,7)

--LS

Here I raise my Ebenezer

Well, since summer has been late to show its warm and sunny face I’ve had some extra time to shuffle papers and sort books and all those indoor organizing kinds of things that really must be done but somehow get put off… I have a closet full of books and papers from seemingly countless years of homeschooling. Considering that I have only one pupil remaining, and two years of instruction to go, it would seem that we don’t need ALL these books. And really, how many samples of handwriting, and weekly schedules and daily assignments do we need to keep? Let’s see, 5 kids X 12 years X 36 weeks X 5 subjects = A massive amount of ‘memorabilia’! Must I keep it all to prove we did something, learned something, and maybe had a little fun doing it?!

Why are some people pack rats anyway? Yes I treasure those forays into creative writing. I love the essays on sundry topics from pranks played on Mom to sailing mishaps to inventive reporting of mundane life experiences… They’re ‘keepers’. I love the artwork (and the doodles) which seem to multiply in proportion to the quantity of paper made available and the ‘dry’ness of the topic at hand… But really, where’s the limit?

So I had me a look at this business of being a ‘pack-rat’ and I found the proper terminology is “compulsive hoarding”… and what’s more, there is a specific syndrome called: Bibliomania – “a disorder involving the collecting or hoarding of books to the point where social relations or health are damaged.” Oh my. Well, my health isn’t in jeopardy yet (though I do seem to have a sore throat and snuffles today… and I did miss a social opportunity to go sailing on this otherwise splendidly sunny and breezy day in order to deal with books…) Hmm. As for the treatment? Anti-depressants and/or psychotherapy can be helpful.

I’m not into drugs, so bring on the psychotherapy! Just so happens I was reading a book (surprise!) and this quote jumped out at me:

“Your preoccupation with satisfaction is the corruption beneath your compulsions” (God’s Love Letters to You--Crabb, 86) 

Huh, what? Read that again… OK, so stretching the context (which I may or may not get back to), I got to thinking about my ‘preoccupation with satisfaction’, even re-worded it… my demand for perfection--to get it right, do it all. In terms of homeschooling, to use every resource to its fullest potential, to learn everything thoroughly, to cover all the bases… and to drive my kids crazy with my edits and demands for more and better and my “it’s-never-quite-good-enough”-ness. Gulp. So I save the books because we’re not quite through with them. So much good content. Wonderful presentation (or not). We could do this… We should go through this one…one day we’ll come back to this… Meanwhile my students have graduated with varying degrees of burn-out, feelings of failure, and a toxic mix of guilt and relief that THAT’s OVER WITH! And me, I hang onto the books and dream…and the papers that verify we learned something through all that!

Ha! Really, given a different personality this job would be a happy picnic. Picking up paper after paper full of memories of small people I got to live and learn with. Small people who were so very clever and such good writers. Each with his/her own angle on the world. Each a challenge and reward all its own. Small people who filled my days with meaning and my life with their delights…Were I not living for perfection, this would be enough, wouldn’t it?!

Why does a book unused have to be a sad thing? Maybe it was a lesson learned (namely, this is not for you; leave it!). A dog learns that lesson. Can’t I? And does a completed book have to feel so bittersweet? Do I really want them all still to be in 4^th grade so we can read-aloud together and learn cursive just a little better… What if life is not about hitting perfection today but about lots of ordinary days where we give what we’ve got to the task at hand and celebrate the accompanying grace, in whatever measure it’s bestowed.

What if the process of living and learning and walking it all out by faith is what matters, not the product at all! Maybe the string of such days well lived is all the product that’s expected on my end. Otherwise, at which stage in this process of growing up can one be said to be ‘complete’. And which test will show it so that I can say ‘Whew, that’s done’. If I’m looking for perfection now, there’ll be no rest, no satisfaction, no commendations forthcoming. Only compulsions.

The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love. Gal.5:6

I sometimes fault my students on working as if ‘getting it over with’ is the whole objective, rather than focusing on learning and enjoying the process. Hmm… seems I haven’t taken that too well to heart myself? Lifetime is an unending process; I may as well get used to the open-endedness of it and start recognizing the glory of each stage, as plenty good enough and cause for celebration! [Sorry kids; your mom’s a slow learner]

So we all ‘with unveiled face’ are called to turn from bondage to books or rules or any good thing that makes us think we can better ourselves…we’re called to turn to Jesus, who ministers to us His righteousness, by His own Spirit, as we look and live. This is how we are changed ‘from one degree of glory to another’ until we behold His likeness and are completed in the ‘twinkling of an eye’—graduated. And life as we’ve always hoped and dreamed it would be commences. That will be glory.

In the meantime? Books and papers serve as reminders of the trail of grace we’ve traveled. I began reading I Samuel this week. After all the ‘doing it their own way’ and resultant bondage of Judges, at last there is one who hears from God and begins to free the Israelites to enjoy their inheritance and to realize what a privilege it is to have God as their King. They toss their idols, confess their sin and decide to serve only the LORD. But watch out! It’s not over. Their oppressors rally intent on keeping them in bondage. They call on Samuel: “Do not cease to cry out to the LORD our God for us!” He does. God answers by thunder and the enemy is routed in confusion. And the next thing Samuel does is to set up a stone by way of reminder. He names it Ebenezer, ‘stone of help’ for he said, “Till now the LORD has helped us.”(I Sam.7:12) The territory lost to the enemy is restored and peace reigns…

Yes! I so want that. None of this bondage to stuff or guilt or ‘if only’ or ‘one day…’ or any such thing. Just a calling out to God that routes the enemy and restores the freedom that is my birthright, and the setting up of landmarks that remind me of His faithfulness.  Maybe that’s what this week is about, sorting and sifting through all these years of homeschooling fallout for a ‘stone’ that will cause me no regret, no anguish of heart, only rejoicing at all the way the Lord has led us and will lead us still--until we stand before Him at the commencement exercises to hear the words: “Well done thou good and faith-filled student. Enter into the joy of your Lord”. Let the wedding feast begin!



I close with these original lyrics to the familiar hymn: Come, Thou Fount
by Robert Robinson (1758)

Come, Thou Fount of every blessing,
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace;
Streams of mercy, never ceasing,
Call for songs of loudest praise….

Sorrowing I shall be in spirit,
Till released from flesh and sin,
Yet from what I do inherit,
Here Thy praises I’ll begin;

Here I raise my Ebenezer;
Here by Thy great help I’ve come;
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure,
Safely to arrive at home.



--LS