The Unplugged Family

Five Minute Friday - Ache...

2012-03-02T19:43:00.002-08:00

Something doesn't feel right. Something's growing inside of me. Something that makes my brows furrow even harder still at this culture we live in. I'm looking at grave stones, thinking how fragile, how short this life is and I decide it. I refuse to sit back any longer and confuse consumption with living.

I love when the atheist challenges the Jesus followers. He says things like:

"If you really believe that your life

is redeemed and all earthly things

are pointless in light of eternity -

why do you live for your stuff?"

"Why do you not tell people about Jesus if He is the answer to life's mystery?"

"Why do you muzzle Truth if the Truth will set us free?"

And my heart aches hard because he's right. Not about all of us, but about most of us. Especially about the STUFF. Children die alone in Uganda - and we're buying new couches. Bigger TVs. Better iPods. Mothers can't clothe their daughters, and yet, we throw our shirts away and trade them for newer name brands. Babies wander alone, three year olds who can't find shelter - yet we long for the next fancier, bigger house.

I whine about sleet and drizzle and mud and a mucky dog and then I hear from friends in Soroti, that there's been no rain since December.

And I ache. Tears pool. I scream out in a moving car, alone, and crazy - "HOW? How God? How? How do I live?"

I sing, desperately, hands clutching not the wheel, but the sky -

"Break me for the nations,
Let my heart become your heart for all the world.
Send me to the harvest,
as an ambassador to speak your holy name.
Send me.
Use me.
As a vessel yielded in the Master's hand.
And please touch me with your annointing
for a world that broken and in need..."

This is my urgent prayer, and it cuts deep - I don't just want to be broken for the nations, I want to be moved for them. Moved - the way a rushing river flows, unstopable. Relentless. That I could not spend a dime in vain - because someone else always need it more.

Because how...

how can we be broken and moved for the widow and the orphan, when we're wandering in an aimless journey of mindless consumption? When we're burning up the wealth that was meant to serve the oppressed. The cold hard cash that is so desperately needed to build up the willing and wanting. To shelter the forgotten. I am no better than they - because I was born into this squaller of a selfish nation. We are equal, one in the same. Why do I have much, and them, nothing?

This - all that I have - was it not given in trust?

What is mine is not mine. And that is a life-changing truth. To fully embrace it, HAS to change everything. Every breath. Every penny spent. Every thought of why we're even here. And I'm figuring out what this means in light of Jesus. In light of eternity. In light of now. In spite of me.

And it aches.

Writen for Five Minute Friday @ The Gypsy Mama

Culture in a Car

2012-02-29T18:56:00.002-08:00

It happened fast. Before I knew it I was yelling at an old man in the parking lot. I don't make a habit of such behavior.

This was a typical sunny day in mid-winter and we'd just spent the better part of the morning in the library children's section soaking up good stories. I watched our kids teeter on a wobbly step stool to reach just the right picture book. We were peaceful, light-hearted, happy.

As we stroll to our beat up old truck to head home, I spot a shiny convertable (with the top up) parked beside us. My boys love cars. Immediately our littlest shreaks with delight. I whisper, "... no touching, ok hunny?" and notice a man in the front seat.

He stares forward, mumbling to himself. His face is deeply creased with age and anger. Frown lines were everywhere. Immediately, I think of Scrooge. The one played by Jim Carey in the most recent version of the film. I actually do a double-take, he looks that strange.

I always have three children closely crowded around me. Always. It is no different when we are climbing into the truck. So here I am, diligently, oh-so-carefully trying to open the side door to ensure there is no chance the door might slip and nudge this ridiculously fancy vehicle beside us. Then, I hear him...

"DON'T TOUCH MY CAR!"

The old man's voice oozes with years of anger. I quickly peel around to see our three-year-old with his chubby hand on the shiny car's gas door. He quickly pulls his hand away and looks at me, wide eyed. I mumble a 'sorry' to the growling man and quickly began herding the kids in the truck, my heart racing. I hate confrontation. What happens next, shocks me to the core.

The old man with hate in his face turns to my tiny son and audibly says, "Ass-hole...".

Now. I am not an explosive person. But this Mom's blood was boiling. I was in complete disbelief that someone could ever speak to a child in this way. With my whole family watching I turn around, look that man in the face and speak words that come without thought... from somewhere deep within.

"I can't believe you would speak to a child that way. Sir..." (I'm shaking). Sir... YOU CAN'T DIE WITH THIS CAR, SIR! (I'm yelling, waving my arms). Do you understand that? You can't die with this car. You can't die with this car." (Tears are falling now as I shake my head - people are watching, staring, waiting.)

He refuses to look at me, but I know he hears me. And in that moment I wonder why I hadn't thought of something else to say - it seems odd that I only repeated the same statement four times. My brow furrows as I wonder where 'that' came from.

The kids get buckled up and I sit down, lip quivering. All three of those precious hearts are looking to me for some kind of explanation as to what just happened.

I breathe. "Kids - what that man said to Alex was very mean. He has a lot of anger in his heart and it is not right to speak to children in that way. That is why I spoke to him. Many people think their stuff is more important than others. He is more worried about his fancy car than being kind. That is a really sad thing." I wanted to say something noble like 'we should pray for him' but I couldn't mutter the words. I was too upset. I was shaken. There was more to this confrontation.

This was Culture in a Car.

Beautiful and shiny on the outside, the car sits - begging to be admired. But inside, the old man is creased with anger and raging with selfishness and bitter hate. That fancy car can't hide your unhappiness, Sir. It just can't.

But isn't this our world?

Stuff has become more important than people. Greed has become a way of life. My car. My money. My possessions. My stuff. DON'T TOUCH MY STUFF. It's mine. MINE.

And all this, ALL THIS, at the very time my husband and I are repeatedly asking the daring question...

"God, are you asking us to sell our vehicle? Are you asking us to minimize and then give? To give, despite the inconvenience?"

And I hear my own words that sprang up from somewhere beyond me:

"You can't die with that car, Sir. You can't die with that car."

And I think I have my answer.

Don't hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or—worse!—stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it's safe from moth and rust and burglars. It's obvious, isn't it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being.

Matthew 6:19-21

"Take care! Protect yourself against the least bit of greed. Life is not defined by what you have, even when you have a lot."

Luke 12:15

Linked In:

Finding myself a little African "Sole"...

2012-02-27T20:19:00.003-08:00

I had the privilege of spending time with Jennifer from African Soles last weekend at a festival near my hometown. The festival celebrated African culture, and I was there with a good friend, Sarah, partnering to represent her organization, Tutalea. What a blessing to be around these two amazing ladies!

I was excited to purchase a pair of gorgeous African Soles sandals. The story behind these Sandals is rich, inspiring, full of life, hope, and beauty. It's like I'm wearing the hopes and dreams of friends with these on. I feel moved to gaze in awe at the tiny beads carefully hand sewn to smooth leather. They're reminding me how tiny I really am and yet, how BIG God is.

You can read the whole story behind the soles and the souls they reach, right here. Why not consider ordering a pair for Spring!? Just one small way to make a difference with the purchases we make. One 'step' at a time...

Us, messing around with our Soles...

"Mama... I wear them?"

From the African Soles site:

"Together we can help make a difference to an entire family by giving one woman an opportunity to regain some dignity and learn a skill so she can provide food and shelter for her family.
By purchasing from African Soles you will not only enjoy a unique hand made pair of sandals but you'll also be making a difference in the life of a refugee woman and her children."

Clinging to truth today and leaning
hard into conviction and change...

Anyone who sets himself up as "religious" by talking a good game is self-deceived. This kind of religion is hot air and only hot air. Real religion, the kind that passes muster before God the Father, is this: Reach out to the homeless and loveless in their plight, and guard against corruption from the godless world. James 1:27

God, be with and bless all those who take action against injustice and work creatively to partner with brilliant, beautiful people in places all over the globe. Give us the 'soul' to support them freely and generously - for Your glory, Jesus.

Linked in: A Holy Experience

Five Minute Friday - Grit.

2012-02-25T18:20:00.002-08:00

Writing has always been the peacemaking of my soul. I write to find out how I really feel. I write through everything – including the bad. Including the seemingly impossible to write – in those moments when the pen falls off and my closed eyes take over.

I never claimed or promised to be a good writer, or even a writer at all – but I promised myself to keep writing. Even when I feel like my heart has nothing coherent to share. Not because it doesn't feel but because it feels too much. When life is a blur and you keep grasping at blessings and reaching for the joy – but this illusive joy falls just out of reach.

When convictions sting hot in my palms and my soul strings begin to unravel. When I'm reminded - no matter how many times or how deeply I'm wounded, I'm called to forgive. And not just forgive - love. The words pump me through. In lamplight, curled in an old chair – a tattered journal lays open.

“Lord, fill me with your love and forgiveness.

Light my heart on fire. Tear these walls down...”

Through the grit, He is there. Through the pain, the pen leads me to the Cross. Chicken scratch sprawled on recycled paper. The remaking of me. Numbering my blessings, writing love notes to Jesus. Just like I'd write to an old girlfriend, I write to Him. He who never disappoints. He who fills. He who devours that which I sprawl, eagerly awaiting my quiet heart – my submissive heart... so He can write back. And I can fully read Him and embrace what He has for me.

“All you who are burdened...” He whispers.

And I read. "Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you'll recover your life. I'll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won't lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you'll learn to live freely and lightly." (Matthew 11:28-30, The Message)

“Cassandra – yes, you. You are burdened. Cast your cares at my feet. Bring everything to me. Cassandra, I love you more than any one can or ever will. Cling to me. I will not disappoint. I will teach you have to really live. I mean, REALLY live, and truly love.”

Closed eyes and stilled pen can be like falling flat on your face, surrendered, waiting. Twisted, broken – so completely broken. Yet, in the distance, on that horizon, Hope shines through.

Linked in for Five Minute Friday

What Freedom Looks Like.

2012-02-18T20:40:00.000-08:00

We wind around a snow spattered path - nothing but the sounds of early birds and ice crunching under our feet. There it sits, a little old farm house, nestled in the middle of acres upon acres of lush woodland. I'm instantly mesmorized, a weakness for history takes over me and I stop - straining to see more.

Big wood planks, window frames old, paint peeling. We all stand in wonder at this almost two-hundred year old cabin. The plaque on the wall says it is a plain, modest farmhouse for its time. But there is nothing ordinary about it.

This is the house that freedom bought. Hands once bound by slavery, unravelled and blazing with passion and determination - those hands lived here. And now I stand, free, gazing in awe at the very thing dreams are made of.

The land was cleared and the home bought in about 1830 by Enerals Griffin and his wife, Priscilla. A black couple born into slavery, they fought hard for freedom - and their long travels brought them right here. Right to this land I stand on today. The house was preserved almost to perfection because of a long line of family owners who cared enough to keep the story alive. And it's like those walls breathe. I wish they could talk. Tell the story.

As I stand on the front step, I look out on the horizon.

So this was freedom's view for Mrs. Griffin.

Wide open spaces, land as far as you can gaze, it's a place no one would have found them. And I get it. And our family gathered here this morning. Just us. Running carefree through the snow, the bushes, the overgrown thistles. Dreaming and capturing. Wondering what it might have been like to have to actually fight for the right to build a life of your own. Wondering what these people must have been like, the tenacity of their souls, the beauty of their freedom found.

The complete wonderment of all things simple. A simple home. A simple outhouse. A simple shed. A simple window. A simple room. A simple door.

The door that opened hope and shut out fear.

As my fingers trace the peeling paint I wonder, have I truly grasped for freedom? Have I clung to hope? Have a set my feet firm on the path set out for me? Have I marched forward with reckless abandon - refusing to let today's culture preech to me about my worth? About what is important in life. About my place. About what I should live for.

I'm in awe of this house. The people who dwelled here. What it meant to them. What it symbolized to the oppresor. The vain white man who saw it fit to control the fate of others. With every plank nailed upright, the soul grew stronger. The smell of freedom in that fresh cut wood.

And I ask, what does freedom smell like for me? Fresh snow on a frosted morning.

What does freedom taste like? Rye toast, dripping with fresh raspberry jam.

What does freedom look like? Three children, sliding gleefully down a moss-covered rock, nestled safely in the arms of nature's tree-covered enclosure.

And do I see it?

Today I do. And I soak it in through the wintery glaze.

For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice,

but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself

will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the

freedom and glory of the children of God.

Romans 8:20

Linked In:

Good Morning Girls

Women Living Well

The Love Tree

2012-02-13T13:20:00.000-08:00

In our family we call Valentine's Day, "Love Day". Our daughter coined it when she was three and since it's so darn cute, we stuck with it. So, on this, the day before the offical "Love Day", I thought I'd share this special activity.

This year, we created a Love Tree. It's a fun, easy, simple way to bring a sunny display of nature indoors but also encourages children to think about the people they love and the things they are thankful for. For ours, we also added the names of people we are praying for on a daily basis.

I loved creating this because it was a several step process that included a lot of family time and no consumption (ie: shopping). Makes for a really pretty and interesting center piece on the table too!

Our Love Tree photo journey...

A nature walk on a beautiful day, searching for the perfect fallen twigs and branches for The Tree -

Clinging to the effort to embrace the simple things and reduce the consumption...

Keeping it simple: recycled cardstock for the tags, re-used pieces of raffia as ties.

For the vase? A recycled glass milk jar.

Sitting quietly around this morning's kitchen table, we put together this little journey. We thought of those we loved, and those we pray for. We wrote on our cut-outs, decorated them, and carefully hung them on what seemed like sacred branches. This was surely an art activity, but it is so much more. Our plan as a family is to use the Love Tree as a prayer list as well as a gratitude 'journal' of sorts. We will continue to add to it and use it daily for reflection.

Gratitude is the memory of the heart.

~Jean Baptiste Massieu

"What makes life sweet?"

"Who should we be praying for and thinking about?"

"Who else should we pray for?"

"Who are we thankful for?"

"What do we cherish?"

From our family to yours, Happy Love Day!
Cherish it.

Before you buy chocolate this Valentine's...

2012-02-09T05:23:00.000-08:00

I spent two hours listening to our six-year-old son read to me from the Better World Shopping Guide yesterday morning. Sounds weird, right? I know. But Simon has such an interest in finding out which companies we should support and which ones we should boycott. I couldn't help but chuckle, but inside, my heart burned with passion - the same passion I saw in my son's eyes. The start of a global awareness that in my opinion, should start at birth.

This is a topic we discuss often and the children are involved heavily with our purchasing choices. I'm used to getting very weird looks at the grocery stores, while I stand mid-isle explaining quietly why, "...even though Kraft cheese is on sale, we don't purchase Kraft - because they aren't a responsible company."

Yes, I'm THAT Mom.

So - it's almost Valentine's Day.

Let's talk chocolate.

I want to challenge the notion that chocolate = LOVE.

It's hard to know where to start when cautioning about the purchase of chocolate. The majority of cocoa beans are grown and harvested in very poor countries. The cocoa bean industry is one of the most abused and exploited by the West. Big name companies buy their cocoa from small companies where child labor and slave labor is always present. In fact, the cocoa business was built on the backs of slaves. YOUNG slaves.

Every time we take a big bite of chocolate from the West's biggest brands, we are literally savoring the taste of child labor.

Hard to swallow, isn't it?

If I claim to walk in love, if I claim to care about the children of this world, how can I give my financial support to companies who are allowing child and slave labor to continue? I can't. It is so important that we think deeply about the purchases we make. Just as we have the responsibility to love our neighbours and care for our fellow human - we also have the responsibility to use our finances wisely in this way. We can choose to invest in companies (and by purchasing their products, you are INVESTING in them) that are doing good work and pledging to produce their goods ethically.

Before you buy your loved one or children chocolate this Valentine's, I'd challenge you to consider where that chocolate came from. Who is the face behind that sweet treat?

It's ironic and horrific that a 'holiday' supposed to be bent on LOVE is literally DIPPED in chocolate. The very industry that has meant torture, pain, and inequality for far too many of our world's children. And this is love?

The top companies to avoid include- Nestle, Perugina, Crunch, Toblerone. These were rated "F" in the Better World Shopping Guide with Nestle as the Corporate Villain because of aggressive take-overs of family farms and the use of child slave labor.

Others to stay away from - Hershey's, Russell Stover, Lindt, Cadbury, Dove.

Chocolate companies who are ethically sound and free of child and slave labor include:

Endangered Species, Equal Exchange, Rapunzel, AlterEco, Divine.

From CNN:

Daloa, Ivory Coast (CNN) - Chocolate’s billion-dollar industry starts with workers like Abdul. He squats with a gang of a dozen harvesters on an Ivory Coast farm.

Abdul holds the yellow cocoa pod lengthwise and gives it two quick cracks, snapping it open to reveal milky white cocoa beans. He dumps the beans on a growing pile.
Abdul is 10 years old, a three-year veteran of the job.

He has never tasted chocolate.

During the course of an investigation for CNN’s Freedom Project initiative - an investigation that went deep into the cocoa fields of Ivory Coast - a team of CNN journalists found that child labor, trafficking and slavery are rife in an industry that produces some of the world’s best-known brands.
It was not supposed to be this way.

After a series of news reports surfaced in 2001 about gross violations in the cocoa industry, lawmakers in the United States put immense pressure on the industry to change.

“We felt like the public ought to know about it, and we ought to take some action to try to stop it,” said Iowa Sen. Tom Harkin, who, together with Rep. Eliot Engel of New York, spearheaded the response. “How many people in America know that all this chocolate they are eating - candies and all of those wonderful chocolates - is being produced by terrible child labor?”

Links I found:

CNN Freedom Project
Global Exchange
Organic Consumers

Soul Surrender

2012-02-06T20:45:00.000-08:00

This past Sunday our church family shouted and sang united, "The Stand". And there I stomped a foot and clutched at the sky, a baby boy's hair twirled around my finger. The words flew from my lips and the truth behind what I was saying sunk into my too often napping soul.

It's like that sometimes. Us, the Jesus followers say things like, "I'll pray for you..." because it sounds like the right thing to say but then - we never do it. Or we sign cards, "In Christ..." but so few of us really understand what that truly means. And I'm that same Jesus-follower. And standing in our plain, love-filled church room (the room that really can't be called a sanctuary because I know our pastor wouldn't want it called that) I'm wondering if I've really meant the words I sing.

The words I am right now dripping tears over.

You stood before creation
Eternity in Your hand
You spoke the earth into motion
My soul now to stand

You stood before my failure
Carried the Cross for my shame
My sin weighed upon Your shoulders
My soul now to stand

So what can I say
What can I do
But offer this heart O God
Completely to You

So I’ll walk on salvation
Your Spirit alive in me
This life to declare Your promise
My soul now to stand

So what can I say
What can I do
But offer this heart O God
Completely to You

So I’ll stand
With arms high and heart abandoned
In awe of the One who gave it all
So I’ll stand
My soul Lord to You surrendered
All I am is Yours

I sing it, but have I lived it? I'm examining my heart deeply tonight. Have I really lived with arms high and heart abandoned? Have I lived, no, breathed these words?

Arms high - pick me up Abba, Daddy...

I worship You, I want Your will - but I am useless alone. Carry me to Yourself.

Heart abandoned - completely left to You, God.

Yielding my heart to you without restraint, no middle ground... totally and completely.

Like a child trusting rocks to catch her leaping feet.

In Awe - of the One who gave it all. Yes, God, in wide-eyed, gaping-mouthed wonder of who You are and what You've done for me. Living the Awe, living the 'wow', every moment, every day. Bending low to capture the glow of green in the middle of Winter's grey.

In Awe of these gifts... more precious than any words can express...

In Awe of this day. This day - to just walk in the woods and stomp in the river...

So I'll stand, my soul Lord to You surrendered...

all I have is Yours.

I've started praying things I never thought I would. I've started asking God to show me the wild and crazy dreams He has for this sinner. For me, so imperfect - so undeserving. Yet, all good things flow from God and His love is like that rushing river... carrying me to a different place. Things are changing, this heart is turning. I want to go - a place where I dare to open my eyes and beg to know what needs surrendering. To breath in and pour out the all of my heart, broken and vulnerable but held up in my shaking hands, to the One.

Yes, not just closing eyes, raising hands and singing the words, but walking them. And I'm not sure what that will look like - because I've never lived in face-down surrender before. Not really. But in the last while I've had tastes and it is so sweet... so incredibly sweet.

Thank goodness though - we aren't called to know, we are called to seek. So, I guess I'm seeking. Seeking this radical soul surrender, and what it means... what it truly means.

"If any of you need wisdom, ask for it. He will give it to you.

God gives freely to everyone."

James 1:5

(The Message)

Linked in at A Holy Experience.

The REAL World.

2012-02-03T19:47:00.000-08:00

I've lived through the condescension. I've had the narrowed glares and raised eyebrows fired my way more times than I could ever count. And just when I thought I couldn't bear being asked the same question any more, it's shot at me again:

"So, really, how are you preparing

your kids for the REAL world?"

People ask this when they find out we educate at home. People ask this when they find out we censor what our children read and watch. People ask this when they find out we do not have TV or video games. People ask this when they hear we teach the gospel in our home. People ask this when I tell them I don't believe in kids being over-scheduled and peer-reliant. People ask that question a lot.

My answer always sits somewhere between, "Well, it depends how you view 'the world'..." and, "May I ask how you feel you are preparing your child for the 'real' world so I can understand what you mean by that question?" (snicker)

I'm a follower of Jesus. For me, He is the 'world'. The world is measured by graces. My whole life is one big, fat, undeserved pile of grace. I'm a sinner, I deserve nothing, yet, through God's mercy, I know Him and have a personal, intimate relationship with the Heavenly Father. My life has literally, in every sense of the word, been SAVED by the love of God and through Jesus Christ. Everything I have - my family, my friends, this beautiful world I get to live in, the sunrise, the snow, the flowers in spring... it's all a gift. The REAL world is about living to accept God's gift and living that life with thankfulness and reverence to God.

Yes, at times, I'm sucking at it... but praise God, I'm allowed to fail and flail and mess up and fight to get back on track. He freely forgives... and I'm getting better, which I guess is the journey part. But, I'm trying to live life as though this earth were a footstool and heaven, the throne. This life is a moment, it's a fleeting spatter of time. It is but preparation for what is to come... the afterlife of Heaven and paradise with Jesus. This is what disciples of Jesus believe. Or at least, it's what we're supposed to cling to.

I want our kids to see the REAL world as a place where we fill our jars only for the purpose of spilling them out again for the sake of others. I don't want them to live for the rat race of filling, filling, filling to only screw that cap on tight and stockpile that which is not ours to keep.

To help clear up the unending questions, I thought I'd share a list of the most important things for us when it comes to raising our children:

1. That they know God, love Jesus, and walk in His will for their lives, no matter what that will might be.
2. That they have deep inner peace and joy only found through a life of generosity, gratitude and a wide-eyed wonder to all the beauty with which God has surrounded us.
3. That their 'earth life' would be a testimony to others, showing the love of Jesus through their very hands and feet so they may draw others closer to our Savior so they can discover for themselves this amazing gift of grace we've been given.
4. That they would truly understand and help others understand that life is about that Jesus-sized hole inside of us all only Jesus can fill. Nope, it can't be filled in any other way - not with money, career, sex, success, possessions, power, or academic success *cough*. So, selling all our stuff and giving to those in need is far more valuable than having a big house and a fancy car.

And when I say these things are foundational for raising our children, they are also foundational for raising myself. We are on this journey together and we haven't yet arrived.

So, am I preparing our kids for "REAL" life? The answer to this question lies in the fact that every single thing I do is done with our children's destiny and journey towards real, true, passionate, genuine LIFE in mind. LIFE for God. LIFE for others. LIFE fully LIVED. Not life of world success and 'fitting in' with peers and looking good on a resume. I desire for my children to thrive spiritually and through their strong, unshakable foundation built on faith.

They may not watch the newest movie or be 'up' on what's cool, but they watch the sunrise and have a living relationship with the Holy God. They don't go to school and hang out with their peers all day long, but they walk every day with a family that loves them unconditionally, no matter what. They have the undivided, love-drenched attention of a devoted Mom all day long. Not a perfect Mom, a devoted Mom. An imperfect, grace-awakened Mom. No pretenses, no falseness - just love in its truest form.

A very wise woman wrote recently, "Love is the only education", and I agree with this notion. Imagine if the whole world was schooled in love?

Our children lack nothing. In fact, I believe their life is rich in every way possible - please stop asking me if and how I'm preparing my children for the REAL world just because we believe in limiting how we allow the 'real' world to tell us how to live. I believe preparing ourselves for life in this REAL world means having God at the center, firm values, roots down deep in love, and razor sharp priorities... gaming and toob watching just doesn't fit the mold.

"I thank you God for this most amazing day, for the leaping greenly spirits of trees, and for the blue dream of sky and for everything which is natural, which is infinite, which is yes."

~e.e. cummings

Oh, that our children would learn to live the "yes" to Jesus and to His gifts. Live with wide-eyed wonder all the days of their earthy lives. And we instill it. We breathe it. Every day.

And yes, I know the REAL world wants to burst my bubble. To tell me this is a ridiculous, idealistic view and no one can actually LIVE like this. Being unplugged is but a dream. But don't we live with choice? Yes, I know, the "REAL" world has TVs. I studied how to manipulate people with the box for six years. Our children are all under six years old. When they are older, they will learn MUCH about the reality of the world we live in and how desperately this world and our Enemy wants to snatch their joy and purpose by hypnotizing them into a life of consuming what will never fill.

Yes, welcome to the REAL world... "Buy, want, need, take, live for yourself, build up your fortune... stock it up... store it up... the better you look to everyone else, the better you'll feel inside..." and that's the lie. And then at the end, when the lights are fading, see how quickly all turns to dust and we are left with only our souls and only what truly mattered. Not the riches, not the status - nothing but how we used our one life to love as Christ loved.

I don't want my kids to ever have regrets about how they lived their one life. And the daily surrender to self and the daily commitment to teaching them how to live their one life well in light of the cross - that is who I've become. It is my calling in this season of life.

We unplug because we WANT to prepare our children for the REAL world - the very REAL fact that the whole of this life only prepares us for and determines our eternal life is the entire point. If you prepare your kid to 'get good grades', 'relate to their peers', 'excel at extra-curriculars', 'go to post-secondary school', 'excel at that', 'save money', 'build a great career', 'buy a big house', 'make sure you have a retirement plan', - what are you teaching them that truly matters? If they know not Jesus, they know not LIFE. I'm far more concerned with eternity than I am with this little blurp here on the green and blue sphere.

Worldly education is no education at all -

it's just the kind you need to undo and do-over when

you grow up and wish to gain true wisdom.

I'm doing that now... desperately trying to undo all the world has told me and fill my cup with truth to see what's really important. When every moment is sacred, what do you fill it with?

What prepares us for REALity?

Embracing a lesson about how the veins of a shining,

pointy-tipped leaf breath life into our very lungs?

Mornings spent searching for the tiny water creatures,

breathing in the beauty of sunrise on rippling waters?

Big brother sharing a phonics lesson with a baby boy -

bare toes wiggling and arms intertwined?

Time spent sorting beautiful art created by friends in Uganda– organizing, admiring, talking about our responsibility as friends and partners to these precious people so far from here yet so close to our hearts...?

Countless hours in a peaceful kitchen, jazz in the background, stories around an old table with warm mugs of hot chocolate in tiny hands, lapping up the joy of family?

The truth is, we are preparing our children for the life we pray they will live. A life focused on Jesus, focused on love, and committed to living their one life well. Breathing deep the refreshing breeze of God's truth and breathing out that truth in all they do. That they would lived bowed at the beauty of nature and over-joyed at the gift of time to enjoy it. That they would value eternal things and place priority on God-things, NOT world-things. That the world would be changed for the better because they walked here.

I want our family to measure success in God nods,

not in people applause.

"Don't hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or—worse!—stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasure in heaven, where it's safe from moth and rust and burglars. It's obvious, isn't it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being.

Your eyes are windows into your body. If you open your eyes wide in wonder and belief, your body fills up with light. If you live squinty-eyed in greed and distrust, your body is a dank cellar. If you pull the blinds on your windows, what a dark life you will have..." Matthew 6:19-24 (The Message)

Linked in at The Gypsy Mama
Linked in at A Holy Experience
Link in at Time Warp Wife
Linked in at Call Me Blessed

A Stranger in the Woods (Literary and Nature Study)

2012-02-01T04:41:00.000-08:00

In our family we love books. One of my favorite things to do in our 'homeschool' is to incorporate fantstic literature into our daily activities. I'm sharing some photos from yesterday, when we built snowmen based on the beautiful story "A Stranger in the Woods". In the story, two children make a snowman in the forest. The animals are all curious, checking out the snowman to figure out who he is. It's precious. Eventually, the animals realize the snowman is a 'friendly' stranger since he's offering food in the carrots and seeds.
This is a heart-warming Literary and Nature study that allows for lots of time in nature and discussions about caring for our world and the creatures in it. (We are feeding the winter birds with the seeds in the hats).

I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.

John Muir, 1913, in L.M. Wolfe, ed., John Muir, John of the Mountains:

The Unpublished Journals of John Muir, 1938

God writes the gospel not in

the Bible alone, but on trees and

flowers and clouds and stars.

Author unknown, commonly attributed to Martin Luther

When I say, "I hate Winter..."

2012-01-31T07:10:00.000-08:00

God gives me this:

So, I'm re-reading Ann Voskamp's book, One Thousand Gifts. If you haven't read it, read it. Today. If you've read it already, read it again with a hi-lighter and sticky notes in hand. It is to be cherished and savoured, but also studied and used as a companion to looking deep into scripture.

I read it the first time several months ago, loved it, prayed about it, cried my eyes out, started my own gratitude journal, felt an overwhelming sense of joy in offering thanks for the everyday, tapped into that deep understanding of life's gifts... then my dog then ate the book. I laughed at the irony and asked for a new copy for Christmas.  And so, here I am in January, reading it for the second time and enjoying it probably more than I did when I first devoured the pages (not literally like the dog, however).

I truly do need a constant reminder to embrace the very moment before me. It's not something I can think about weekly or every few days or even daily. It's hour by hour, minute by minute. Thinking intentionally to be thankful and savor these minutes. And I completely relate when I read Ann's words related to taking a photoograph of a plate of cheese.  "Ridiculously happy over slips of cheese. That I am, and it's wild, and, oh, I am the one who laughs. Me! Changed! Surprised by joy!" (p.57)

Because when I'm walking with a big floppy pup on a leash at 8am and the sun rises over the Blue Spruce standing thirty feet tall, I'm giddy too. My cheeks hurt from my smile. And when our big old truck bounces through slushy streets three hours later, just me and three kids, I cry. Tears roll down as I tell the kids, "Look... it's like God covered the whole earth in jewels." We see how the white powder shimmers in the sun light and we all breath in that gift. I'm trying to embrace this lifestyle of gratitude myself and also instill it in our children... so they won't have to learn it at almost 30.
Two years ago, I would never have thought to say those words. I would never have thought to pause and fully inhale. I might have sighed and whispered, "oh, pretty" and moved on - but this is so much deeper. So much more pure.

So, when again I'm whining that, "I hate winter," and I need a boot-kick reminder to be thankful in all things, God gives me snow.

And then He gives me the whispers to, "accept". Because when I complain about the season, it's like saying no to the present He has sent us in this beautiful, shimmering earth cover. And I don't want to be like a child that complains about the things her Daddy gives her. "I don't WANT that, it's not GOOD enough... I deserve something better...." Ouch. I feel like I lack the maturity to understand that all good things come from Above... and all good things are, um, undeserved.

I feel so incredibly blessed to have my eyes opened to these little gifts. And to remind myself of it hourly, I've started journaling gifts again. I got up to number 250-something and then I just stopped. I didn't stop noticing, but I stopped writing it down. There's truly something sacred in documenting all the undeserved bounty poured on me. Putting the pen to the notebook is definitely Holy work when you are accepting those little gifts and whispering thanks to Him with every number.

In this childlike, "THANK YOU, DADDY!", we can just fling our hands up and allow Him to fill us with joy all day long. Rather than complaining or thinking the negative, I shake my head and allow myself to see the blessing in every single moment... I guess that's 'the dare'... "to live fully, right where you are."

And so, the simple things become cherished gifts...

A messy breakfast table... beautiful and bright.

Morning sunshine casting shadows on a favorite book.

Sweet puppy-girl, resting on a dusty floor.

Little boy, messing with Math puzzles.

Little girl's birthday flowers, popping with color.

This face. The little one who whispers, "Mama... I love you" at least ten times every day.

God, teach me, grow me, mature me in every way.

"Do not be so preoccupied with getting,

but instead, respond to God's giving.

Steep your life in God-reality,

God-initiative, God-provisions..."

Matthew 6:32

Linked in:
A Holy Experience

Blessed Dishes (featured post at The Better Mom)

2012-01-28T06:21:00.000-08:00

The view from this side of the world...

I ring out the wash cloth after dipping in soapy water. I sulk to the sticky kitchen table and start wiping.

“You know, I feel like a hampster in one of those plastic wheels. All day I clean. All day! I clean, clean, clean. I wash dishes, what? Five times a day? I organize dishes, I wash them, I dry them, I put them away, I take them out again… I make a meal and start all over. Argh!”
Back to the sink, dip cloth, ring it out, and now the counter tops. My husband just looks up, smiles slightly, and keeps scrubbing the pot in his hands.

“I mean, seriously!” I continue. “It’s all I do. It’s practically my unpaid occupation! I clean half-done crafts, I pick up toys, books, games, play-doh… I scrub toilets, I vacuum – like 4 times a day now that we have Molly (our 85lbs Golden Retriever Pup). I do dishes. That’s what I do. I should have gotten a degree in soap suds or something.”

He snorts and shakes his head.

I shake mine too, finally stopping myself from further outburst. And then – I quit ranting long enough to allow my mind to wander in the silence of our little country home full of sleeping kids.

To read the rest, won't you join me here?

Five Minute Friday - "Vivid"

2012-01-20T20:47:00.000-08:00

Webster's first definition of the word VIVID is about color - hues that are very strong, high in chroma. I like the second definition much better. It speaks of VIVID having the "appearance of a vigorous life, or freshness". Ah, a vigorous, fresh life. Now, that's what I want.

Two days ago I cried on my husband's shoulder that maybe I wasn't cut out for this "homeschooling stuff". Our house had been chronically chaotic for two weeks, I felt like the kids weren't learning, well, anything - and I was slowly, but noticingly, losing my mind. Doubt clouds over me in times like these. The whispers of enemy lies take over. "Psst - You're not cut out for this. Stop trying so hard. This way of life is just too challenging. It's not worth it". And I start to believe that these Holy days with these beautiful kids of mine aren't worth it. Aren't WORTH IT? I'm ashamed to admit this now as I'm curled up in a quiet house, my laptop on my knees, Kari Jobe quietly worshipping in the background.

And then, it happens. Just like it always does. I have two VIVIDLY bright days. Two days filled with the vigorous, fresh life. Two days of letting go, and allowing myself to experience joy, joy everflowing. Joy that comes from the wreckless abandon I force upon myself, because I'm slow with these things. Joy that comes when I just shut up and trust in Jesus.

In the past two days we've made Pizza, baked a pie together, enjoyed a visit with a dear friend, read lots of silly audio books, and today - spent the whole day sledding and eating too much chocolate. And yes, this is home school. It is this week. Because it's what we needed. It's what I needed to make sure I was embracing that VIVID life. That life that says "whatever" to society's standards. That life that kicks the Deceiver in the face by choosing to embrace the calling God has given me to raise these children in Him. The life that stops whining long enough to look around and see what I really have. That life that shrugs shoulders to the 'norm' and just breathes in the joy of right now. The life that allows our family to be the only ones on the sledding hill. The only ones shreiking with laughter, whooping out "YA!!! THAT WAS A GOOD ONE!" on a Friday afternoon.

A smirk crawls across my face now as I remember the giggles, the rosy cheeks, the sheer joy of being free. Flying down a snow-dusted mountain side and laughing hysterically when you spin three times then flip over, face first in white powder. When your three year old jumps on you and begs you to "sit in the sun with me, Mama" and leans trustingly against your chest. The sun beams down and I lift my eyes to the sky. God is here, in these moments, revealing truth to my forgetful soul.

The opposite of living a

vivid life would be to live a dull life.

To me, the dull life is the life filled with pretenses, cultural norms, classrooms, cubicals, and consumption. The dull life is void of God and void of the belief that we have the power to impact the world. Yes, little us. We have that ability. I want the vigorous life. The fresh life. The daring life. And I want it for our children. The life lived in God's hands, whether the Phonics lesson gets done or not. Every day, making choices based on what leads us to God and keeps us fresh. Isn't that life school? Isn't that the education of a life-time? To zoom down a hill laughing with joy, caught by your loving Mom who is more concerned with joy and life than she is about filling out a checklist.

I choose to live FRESH, free falling right into Christ's arms, trusting He'll be at the bottom of this crazy hill, ready to catch, pick up, dust off, and point me back in the right direction... which will likely be right back up that hill again.

Linked in for Five Minute Friday

A Weak Homeschooler's Prayer

2012-01-17T08:13:00.000-08:00

Might I humbly share what I wrote this morning in my prayer journal?

Lord, these days are long, when my husband leaves for work and doesn't return until after the kids are in bed. Give me strength... no, not only strength but a different perspective. Not thinking "Oh, what a long day ahead... how will I get through it?" but instead, "Oh, what a great day I now have to spend with our children. How blessed I am for these long, quiet, safe, holy days." It sounds cheesy but how different my life would be if I looked at all things from a positive perspective instead of subconsciously thinking the worst.

Hard to believe THIS was three years ago already... they stay cocooned for such a short time...

Within a few months, this little boy was already done being bundled... these stages fly by faster than is fair...

These days are not long, arduous days - these days are numbered, precious occurrences that will one day run out. One day, our children will grow up and I will grow old and I will long for quiet days with three kids at the kitchen table. Spills and all. Teach me Lore, to not count the minutes but rather, cherish the moments. Every moment is filled with life. Life unexpected, life uncertain, life fleeting, life passing by, life so precious. Remind me, Father, in the eyes of our children, that what I do as a Mom has deep value and my purpose is so firmly rooted in You. These little ones, their souls, their hearts and their spirits - they are in my hands. Every day, all day, they count on me to be here, present, nurturing them, helping them learn and grow to their potential in You. How did I inherit this?

More cocooned days, long passed... when baby girl was only two...
now she's nearing five... have I cherished these days?

Thank You, Lord, that it is not in myself that I trust. Thank you, God that I can lean fully on You and Your guiding hand. Although, I don't do that enough. Thank you for affirming me as a Mom, as a teacher, and as an important part of Your eternal Kingdom. Help me never to lose sight of the big (so very big) picture of this life.

Heaven is our home,

and earth is but a footstool.

This isn't it! Raising of children and growing their hearts at home, no matter how unconventional, is Your work. Kingdom work. Yes, I have been set apart for such a time as this...

Remind me that messy paint tables and spilled Science experiments and unfinished assignments are all a part of this imperfect journey. Show me how arguing siblings and dogs chewing art projects are molding me, molding us. Open my eyes to the nature that surrounds us and brings us closer to You... showing us Your love. Make me so vividly awake to the truth that rewards are found in the embrace of a child and the kitchen laughter on a rainy afternoon. In hot chocolates on the couch, surrounded by children and audio books. In long nature walks by the river when everyone else is stuck in the classroom or the office. That I am intensely blessed and many would trade places with me in a moment. That rewards are piled up in Heaven when we sacrifice ourselves and choose to follow You. Yes, rewards are there in Your Kingdom for us Moms who plug through these days, daring to count fully on You.

Yes, God, pour your grace on those of us daring the live counter-culturally. Daring to say, 'I will be the primary care provider for my children. I will teach them, even if I am not qualified. I will put my children and my calling before my own desires and I will push aside what people may think or say about me'.

The year we started this home schooling journey... the year that changed our life and rendered me so in need of grace...

I will choose to look around me every single day and raise my hands up to the sky whispering, "Thank you, Jesus!". That I'm here. That I can do this. That my husband has a job to support us, that our home is safe and warm and these walls hold in love and wonder. Thank you for the craziness, for that chaos, it reminds me I need You. Thank you for the quiet moments, though very few, for they restore my soul and give me strength.

Fill me with Your grace, Your hope, Your light, Your truth. Humble me to be a true example of Your love to our children. I surrender this home and these home school days to Your will... teach me Father, what that means. I'm not good at surrender. But I need to be.

Praise You God.... for Your love... Your ever-presence Amen.

"I lift up my eyes to the hills-

where does my help come from?

My help comes from the Lord,

the Majer of heaven and earth."

"He will not let your foot slip-

He who whatches over you will not slumber;

He who watches over Israel

will neither slumber nor sleep."

"The Lord watches over you-

the Lord is your shade at your right hand;

the sun will not harm you by day,

nor the moon by night."

"The Lord will keep you from all harm-

He will watch over your life;

the Lord will watch over your coming and going

both now and forevermore."

(Ps. 121: 1-8)

Five Minute Friday - Awake.

2012-01-14T06:29:00.000-08:00

I feel like I've spent the past week in a sort of sober-drunken sick stupor. The whole house has been crashed out with colds, flus, headaches, fevers. Until yesterday I hadn't left the house in 6 days.

"Argh... I have no pants." My laid out husband is in a cold sweat and drowsy in bed as I tirade around the room. "For two weeks, I've had no pants. Nothing. Only these disgusting jogging pants - ack."

He tried hard to open his eyes and at least acknowledge me.

"I'm so sick of this house! I feel like I'm in jail... seriously. Could it be any worse? Must be nice to be able to just lay there and 'get better'. You went to work while I felt like that. How do you think that felt? Honestly! I had to be up and running around after three kids and the dog when I was that sick."

He's barely able to respond.

"Argh... never mind." I storm out of the room with my ugly track pants under my arm and whine to myself that 'this sucks' as I trudge down the stairs to three coughing children on the couch.

"Mama, I need more water."
"Mama, my head is hot again..."
"Mama, Alex is touching me."

Mama... Mama.... Mama.... for an entire feverish week, Mama.

I heave a sigh and keep on pushing through the day. My Mom always said it, "this too shall pass". But when everyone is sick, I GET GRUMPY. And when my huspand couples over and checks out, I take it out on him. There. I said it.

Everything I know about living in the moment - of soaking up life one minute at a time, gets flushed down the toilet with all that dirty Kleenex.

When our household has the flu, I forget to be thankful. I forget to bow low and thank Jesus that we are all still awake. Still here. Hearts beating. Little mouths eating. Smooth rosy cheeks smiling slightly. Little eyes looking to me to care for them. Looking to me. No one else, me. Yep, their upset, overwhelmed, sick-too Mom. That's me. Sorry kids.

But today, in this 8th day of sickness around these parts, I've resolved to wake up from my immature, grouchy stumbling and be awake to the beauty around me. The snuggles, the softness, the storytime, this sleepy house, warm and safe. To all the gifts we have been given - cozy beds, tea, juice, soup, music, books, wholesome movies, medicine. Water. Fresh, clean water.

And I write this as a friend in Uganda makes the long trek to purchase a water filtration system for his humble home. A system that will hopefully keep his children healthy and away from death's grip this time around.

I'm selfish. I'm petty. I'm so not 'there'. But I'm learning.

I'm committing.

To awaken to this family I've been been given - in sickness and in health.

Linked in @ Five Minute Friday

Maybe it's Photoshop...

2012-01-12T19:16:00.000-08:00

A friend of mine shared this video on Facebook, and I had to share here:

Fotoshop by Adobé from Jesse Rosten on Vimeo.

"Maybe she's born with it..."

"Nah... I'm pretty sure it's Photoshop."

This made my day... clever, witty, brimming with truth. Bravo to Jesse Rosten for this video that brings light to a serious issue by infusing it with humor. Nothing like using the media itself to blast the media itself. Ha.

Several months ago I had the opportunity to facilitate two Dove Real Beauty Workshops in my community. It was an incredible experience not only to educate myself further about the struggles facing girls and women when it comes to media lies about beauty, but also, to get to know some beautiful young people who had lots to say about their own self esteem struggles. The main theme that came up over and over among pre-teen girls and their Moms was this:

Perfection is a myth.

I remember talking to a room full of attentive, wide-eyed girls after I'd shown them a slide show of professional photos that had been Photoshopped. "The kind of perfect we are shown as 'beautiful' just isn't REAL. Celebrities do not look like they do on magazine covers in real life. No one's face is that smooth. In real life, people have PORES!"

I couldn't help to grin from ear to ear as these eight to twelve year olds piped up and critiqued the Photoshop lies:

"Look at her chin... they've shaved her chin off!"
"And her arms - why are they such a weird color? They've changed something..."
"Her eyes are bigger in the second one."
"I think she looked better before they made her skinnier."

Me too.

The girls would giggle nervously, but I could see the truth sinking in as they nodded and opened their minds to a new reality - Pop Culture's perfect beauty is a big fat LIE.

The world would love to tell you have to feel about yourself. The world wants to tell you that you have to look a certain way to have value. That you need to be 'sexy' to be loved. That sexy is skinny. That skinny is beautiful. That beautiful is what ever we see on TV and in magazines. That to look this 'certain' way we have to buy a lot of products - you know, the ones the girl on the cover is using. It's all a big game. It's all a business. Billions are made by making people feel inadequate and worthless. And so we consume, consume, consume.

Ladies, welcome to Pop Culture. Welcome to the facade that encircles us and grasps to ensnare us.

The question just remains, what do we do with it?

What do you do with it?

Gender-Phobia and Toys

2012-01-10T17:31:00.000-08:00

Hi, I'm a girl's toy. People get annoyed with me, saying I encourage all things 'feminine' - playing with dolls, inventing cute social situations, dressing up, and of course, sheerly enjoying the act of admiring how 'pretty' I am.

Hi, I'm a boy's toy. People get annoyed with me, saying I encourage all things 'masculine', such as, creating battle scenes, acting out heroic quests, and saving those girls who need rescuing.

The uproar following the release of the new Lego brand for girls (Lego Friends) got me thinking about gender roles and toys. People are questioning if Lego releasing a brand just 'for girls' is actually a good idea. Lego Friends has already been labelled 'too girly' by consumers; complaining it feeds into gender stereotypes.

For the record, I'm not personally a fan of the new Lego Friends. For a product that is supposed to foster creativity and building skills, the Lego Friends kits require very little building and almost no creativity. (Go figure). I also disagree with the fact that although they are geared at younger girls, the promo characters are mature bodied, over-sexualized cartoon characters (there's something new).

What I'm NOT against is how Lego has marketed a product that appeals to girls and is willing to say so. Let's face it, Lego is mostly Knights, Castles, battle scenes, ships, Pirates, and the like. The majority of girls aren't all that interested in those themes. (My daughter is one of those acceptions that enjoys both girly toys and boyish toys, I think, because she has two brothers). Our whole family really loves Lego, but we don't usually go for the newer kits, but rather, purchase buckets of pieces and find them second hand so we can get creative instead of fabricating what the box tells us to.

But I digress.

My question is, why the uproar? What's the big deal with calling an Outdoor Bakery, Vet Clinic, and Purple Convertable GIRLY? I mean, aren't they? Last time I checked, there was quite a difference between the way girls and boys played. We are uniquely made - with boys and girls learning and experience life in different ways. This includes how young children play and what kinds of toys they enjoy playing with.

One of our daughter's favorite toys - her Calico Critters.

I truly do believe toys can be inherantly 'boy' or 'girl' centered. And I don't think it always has to do with marketing. Nay-sayers will argue that it is actually Western culture that mostly directs boys to what we view as 'boy' toys and girls to 'girl' toys. The same reason girls like Pink and boys want Blue. It's all the result of marketing and the mass media's affect on our kids. But this is only partially true.

There really is no way to fully know to what extent a child's play preferances are purely genetic or completely influenced by culture. Kid culture (including toys) has been so intertwined in everything children experience that it's hard to know where the line is. No matter how hard you try to escape it, it's nearly impossible.
But then I started wondering, "do I WANT to escape it?". These gender-specific toys, are they really as harmful to kids as some suggest? Is it 'wrong' to buy Knights for my sons and Dollies for my daughter?

One of our son's favorite toys, Duplo Knights and Castle.

In many ways we are moving towards a world of "Gender-Phobia" with toys.

A world where it is wrong to suggest that girls play with kitchen sets and baby dolls. A world where it's 'harmful' for boys to imagine themselves Knights on a mystical quest for a lost princess. And I think that's sad. We are told that suggesting girls pretend to cook and take care of babies is wrong because we are pushing them into a 'traditional and stereotypical role'. I'm still wondering when being a Homemaker and Mother became stereotypical. I believe as women, it is our calling. No, not every girl will have babies and not every girl wants to, and that's okay. But most will. And boys - it's stereotypical for us to assume they want to play with trucks and dinosaurs, and Knights and Legos. These things are said to push them into a gender-role stereotype that is implied rather than realistic.

Really? Why is it, then, that when we spend an afternoon at the Children's museum, I see it play out right before my eyes. There are no signs on the walls indicating a 'boy' room or 'girl' room. Interestingly though, the boys collect in the room where there are blocks, strategy games, and a large velcro wall with tubes and shutes. The girls, however, congregrate in the large room that has been transformed into a fantastic restaurant with a kitchen to make pretend food and a large counter to serve and collect payment from customers.

Is this instinctive or inspired by every kid's experience with media and marketing?

the boys first went here...

the girls first went here...

I just have to ask - is it really a bad thing to foster a love of feminine things in our daughters? I believe it is a positive thing to encouraging our girls to play with toys that nurture a love for homemaking and child rearing. These aren't bad things. These are very healthy things. And what's wrong with boys loving an adventure? Imagining they are a brave Knight or a captain sailing the seas? I believe God created women as caregivers and men as the hunters and gatherers. No wonder kids play in these ways. To strip children of the basic playing methods they enjoy for the sake of 'avoiding gender stereotypes' is not only fear-driven but potentially quite destructive. Let's let girls be girls and boys be boys and allow them to play as they wish.

In our family, we do embrace healthy gender-specific toys but we also encourage our children to play with any toys they desire to engage with, no matter their sex or age.

Some days, our daughter plays with cars and builds a Lego castle. Likewise, on the Children's Museum day, after enjoying time in the cognitive and building room, our sons also had fun playing in the pretend restaurant.

While making up their own play in the creative room, Audrey decided to be a fairy princess, Simon was a Knight, using a walking stick as a 'lance'... no Gender-Phoebia there! Ha...

I'm curious, what are your thoughts about children's toys and this fear of 'gender stereotypes'?

Linked In:
Raising Homemakers
Women Living Well

No pretenses... just PERSPECTIVE.

2012-01-03T22:00:00.000-08:00

I want to tell you the TRUTH about our family.

As we embark on another year... another year of living, of parenting, marriage, growth, change, striving, I feel a strong urge to open up and talk about how I'm feeling. Right now, I'm more committed than ever to motherhood, to wifehood (I'm making up a word), to my relationship with Jesus Christ, to letting Him mold me. And oh my goodness, there's a LOT of molding that needs to take place up in here.

And I feel more committed than ever to write from the deep, dark corners of my heart and soul. That means the good, the amazing, the horrible, and even the humiliating. It means letting this page be a flowing river of truth, no matter what I'm going on about. And I'm humbled to discover that thousands (THOUSANDS) of people read these words. It's humbling but also scary.

Let me tell you a secret - I get incredibly nervous about what kind of impression I make on the people in my life. What people think of 'me' matters. A lot. Which is kind of funny, because I've often had people say they'd never think "I" would care what anyone thought. Me. The opinionated one... Ha! They couldn't be further from the truth.

But I digress. Let's start here:

A blogger I love wrote a post about giving each new year a 'word'. Almost like a starting point or a platform on which to build goals and hopes and dreams. Or maybe the word could be used somewhat like an 'inspiration piece' is used when designing a room. The WORD becomes the "piece de resistance", if you will. If you can? Bah, either way, if asked, I'd say my word for 2012 is perspective.

My goal for my writing is and always has been to share truth. That every soul who reads these messy words that start in a sketch pad would get a true glimpse of ME. A true glimpse of our family.

I love reading other women's blogs. So many ladies, young and old, have a wealth of knowledge and a sea of emotions and experiences to share. I grow immensely from soaking in what others pour out through the written word.

But let me be brutally honest:

There are some very popular blogs in the

Christian blogging circle that I avoid reading.

Why? Because they don't motivate me or encourage me at all. They actually make me feel bad about myself. I actually feel worse when I read about how seemingly 'perfect' these women are. Shining, radiant examples of the sparkling 'Titus 2' wife. Massaging their husband's shoulders the moment he is home from work, waiting in full make-up, with a hot meal served in fine China. Me? I'm pretty sure I'd leave 'em wanting.

There's also that large, poised, wonderfully organized Homeschooling family where Mom seems to have everything together. I read about lesson plans and daily routines and Godly discipline and the pouring out of grace and never raising one's voice at her children and I can feel my shoulders sag and my back hunch. I just can't live up to these women. I'll never be THIS. And then I feel almost defiant - are these people even real?

I want to be real.

Please. I'm not saying this in spite or to sound mean in any way. I love difference... I truly do. Every message has it's purpose, and every writer is passionate about theirs. And I'm sure every Christian blogger writes in hopes of inspiring others. I know not one of us TRIES to intimidate or confuse or bewilder. But I'm also POSITIVE I'm not alone in my feelings of inadequacy when comparing myself to 'perfect' Bloggers, because I've had people send me emails that described the way I'd made THEM feel. That MY blog had actually discouraged them. That they felt they could never live up to my family and our "unpluggedness". Friends - tears roll down my face when I read words like these.

Something vital you need to know about me -

I am nothing special.

I am not some amazing, unplugged picture of perfection. I don't do relaxation exercises in the forest- I chase my kids screaming, "HEY! Back away from the waterfall!!!" Yes, I have a touch-screen phone- and I probably text my husband thirty times a day. I watch online TV programs - mostly Extreme Home Makeover and The Dog Whisperer and documentaries about Africa. Our children like movies. Correction - our children LOVE movies. We eat candy and I often don't exercise. Sometimes, I grab McDonald's instead of making lunch because I'm lazy and it's easier. Our kids fight. A lot. I yell. I went to Wal-mart and bought laminate folders the other day AFTER blogging about how much I dislike Wal-mart because of their poor ethics. I drink Tim Horton's, even though I question where the coffee beans come from and how good it is for me. Yes, I'm just ME.

Our family is a normal, crazy, chaotic mess. We have not reached some level of 'there' like so many people seem to somehow think. It seriously makes me on edge to think people consider us a picturesque example of perfect family life. It's just not so.

I recently received a comment from a sweet reader who was questioning why I had mentioned our children watching Curious George. She wasn't criticizing, she was just wondering. "Do you consider Curious George 'educational screen time'?" she asked. Um... I'm not sure. Is this a trick question? But she was right - I had written that our children were allowed 'educational screen time'. Which is misleading, I suppose. Sometimes, they just watch silliness. They do. I mean, is "Dave and the Giant Pickle" REALLY educational? Or what about Pingu? A penguin who doesn't even speak a coherent language but instead mutters and yells "NOOOK NUUUK!" ? Probably not so much.

But the comment got me thinking about how people view us as this, "The Unplugged Family". Let me say first and foremost, we are STRIVING! (It's right there in the tag line, see?) Sure I have my opinions about popular culture and media and we do try very hard to unplug from the brunt of what the world would sell us. But, we are still human. We are still IN this culture. And we're struggling to find a way to stand apart without making people feel judged... and without driving ourselves mad. And it's hard.

I'd rather my kids have little to no screen time and I'd rather be unplugged from consumerism and branding and all the junk we're thrown... but then there's reality. The reality that I spend 60 hours a week on my own with three children and sometimes, let's face it, I need 30 minutes to make dinner. Life happens.

And I used to get REALLY worked up about it... but I'm starting to learn...
It's all about perspective. Because I think mine has been pretty messed up in the past. Because it still is some days. Because everything, given the right perspective, makes sense. Because God desires for us discernment and the ability to view things through His eyes (ie: the perfect perspective). Because sometimes, it's just not THAT big of a deal. You know, if my kids watch 2 hours of silly screen time today because I'm sick and alone for 12 hours. It's ok. I'm not letting everyone down, am I? I mean, really? (Please, help me out...)

Whether or not my daughter plays with a Barbie doll while visiting a relative - will it ruin her self-esteem? Whether I embrace pink for girls and blue for boys or let my boys play with action figures... I mean, really? Whether we play on my Uncle's Wii and laugh together for an hour... Are the big fat arguments against culture really what TRULY matters?

I'm still figuring it out. And I'm not saying EMBRACE culture. I'm not. But I'm asking myself to consider perspective and I'm begging readers to please understand... we're human. Yes, I speak on issues of pop-culture, I write about unplugging and questioning media messages - but we aren't a cut-off from the world, never look at a screen type-family. We roll with the punches.

I'm starting to think it truly is more about how we are being the hands and feet of Jesus and spreading His love and His message. And that I be a woman who encourages and inspires rather than annoys and frustrates and makes a loving Mother feel inadequate because HER child watches too much TV. Perspective for me means we focus on living for others and spreading life. Perspective means I learn to let go of my opinions and my 'but I have to make a point' mentality, and just embrace the Everlasting... the things that REALLY matter.

The nurturing of souls is what the job of parenting is. I am so under-qualified, but still, I nurture souls along with God and my husband daily. All day. Every day. And as I do this, I want PERSPECTIVE to be a guiding factor. What is a must for these children? What needs to be breathed into their souls? What attitudes, passions, desires, and truths need to be sowed, watered, grown? And what things are just opinion-based legalistic eye-rollers? Oh, Jesus, help me figure all this out! And then Lord, help me humbly share what I'm learning in writing... here... on this little blog.

The "Unplugged" truth about us -

what you should know before reading this blog.

(A gimps at today, for example)

No, I do not do morning devotions. In the morning, I roll out of bed and stumble down the stairs when the kids bug me long enough. This is usually at approximately 6:45am. I then require two cups of coffee. As quickly as possible. I add sugar AND cream. Milk if cream is unavailable, which is usually the case since I ALWAYS forget to buy it. Sometimes we start projects right away (yes, this early). Often times I actually ENCOURAGE my kids to 'watch a dvd' for 30 minutes, so I can open my eyes. I DO, however, make a point of looking out the window and embracing "JOY" as my blanket for the day.

This morning, I let our three-year-old squeeze his pudgy hands through an ENTIRE bottle of liquid soap... JUST to keep him busy.

Two years ago I organized a basket of “Phonics and Reading Tools and Manipulatives”. I like using the word 'manipulatives' because it sounds really intelligent. I've never used it, this basket of 'things'. In fact, today was the first day we actually really started doing the Phonics program I bought in 2009. Yep. Amazing though, that our son reads brilliantly... and our daughter is well on her way. Praise God for grace...

Craft time is particularly entertaining at our home, as our daughter loves anything artsy, but our sons practically have to be pinned to their chairs and forced to color. This morning, Audrey daintily cut careful patterns while Simon announced that his Papel Picado was indeed a paper with “gun shots” through it and then proceeded to chase the dog through the house as I finished his craft FOR him and then sticky tacked it to the window so I felt better about myself.

Our 8-month-old Golden Retriever is the most spoiled puppy in the world. Despite countless hours of watching The Dog Whisperer while doing nightly dishes (and trying to unsuccessfully hide my crush on Caesar Millan), alas I am still too lazy to actually IMPLEMENT all my doggy training wisdom. She sleeps on the couch, manipulates me with her eyes, and yes, after mere moments of begging, she did get Waffles for breakfast.

Art Appreciation and Picture Study this week – two pieces by the late Pierre Auguste Renoir. Sounds fancy – eh? Eh?

I inquisitively ask two attentive children a pre-planned question as we consider one of the famous paintings: “What do you suppose this young girl is thinking about?” They look at the print-outs, carefully laminated and cut to size. They look back at me, blank stares. “Um...” says my six-year-old son. “POOP!?” He laughs. "Yes, poop. She's thinking about POOP!!!"

Bursts of laughter. My head throws back. And THIS is advanced Charlotte Mason Picture Study in our home. Right.

On the same thought-train, my sons are currently obsessed with their Transformers. They got them for Christmas. I hate Transformers. Not only because they are 'action figures' (which I just don't like for various reasons too long to list) but also because I can't do them. That's right, I CAN'T transform the age 5+ figures. But, hey, I have to admit - action figures like these keep my son very occupied! I don't really get it... yeah, that's right, the 'anti-brand' Mom, considering embracing action figures... *sigh*

My husband thought it would be 'fun' to put a game or two on my phone. Since our son got a taste of “Rush Hour”, a simple brain teaser two days ago, he's been bugging me non-stop to play it. So today, I let all three kids stare mindlessly as I cleaned the kitchen. Yes, two were even sitting ON the table. Tsk, tsk.

Yes, that's MY kid, playing a hand-held video game-ish thingy. A year ago, I would have flipped my lid at the mere thought of anything like this in MY child's hand. I know, I CAN'T believe it. But really, will it kill him? Seeking PERSPECTIVE...

Literary Enrichment time... Charlotte Mason says to seek out only enriching, beautifully written, inspiring literature for young children, not wasting time on 'twaddle'. Well, as for me and my kids... sometimes, we just like a really ridiculous Robert Munch audio book. Pretty sure his work would be considered 19th century SUPER twaddle though... just sayin'.

I'm a Home Educator. I absolutely love my children. They are my priority and my passion. But really, I'm just a normal, every day person who feels called to a lifestyle embraced by less than 5% of the Canadian population. I'm often disorganized, rarely stay with my schedule, and sift through piles of books a mile high to find my 'to-do' lists, still incomplete, from 3 days ago. I spend hours every night organizing lessons and activities and desperately trying to inspire our children. Trust me when I say, I rely heavily on grace. It's just so not about me.

Many days, I'm so overwhelmed with the stress of Mothering three children and a puppy that I just stare out the window pleading for Jesus to help me through the day. “Give me wisdom, oh Lord!!! Patience, pour your peace on this home... pour your grace over me... please Lord, I need help...”

I share all this to communicate my heart. I want to be real. We are not a perfect family. Not because we strive to be unplugged... and not because we homeschool. Not because I blog. Not because I speak. Haha... not even close. I desperately want the 'real' us to be the heartbeat of this blog for the coming year and beyond. I care deeply about sharing truth and not making our family seem like something we're not. We are normal, we are crazy, we make mistakes, we are covered by AWESOME grace... and above all else, we love each other and our God. We are work in progress.

I like to joke, but I'm intensely serious about the grit of this post. I will be an honest writer, and an honest communicator. I don't want this blog or anything I write to contain even a hint of pretense. I'm broken. I suck most of the time. I'll never 'live up' to the imagery of the 'perfect' wife, mother, homeschooler. It's not 'gonna' happen. Not for me, and not for most of us.

And the last thing in the world I'd ever want to do is make someone else feel inadequate because my blog somehow 'puffs' me up.

Our life is beautiful... but not perfect.

Let's embrace each other – faults and all. I'll hug you, you hug me. I'll share this journey, every insane, crazy, calm, simple, unplugged, and sometimes too-plugged moment of it... but with perspective. With a desperate, humble striving towards the truth God calls us to... a life lived on purpose and for the right Purpose. A life focused on what TRULY matters - the Eternal. Not on being 'just so' or following some code for the Perfect Christian Mom or Wife or Daughter. There is no such code. We are all saved by grace and God views the heart (thank goodness) not the pretty home or the organized lesson plans. He sees the heart - right through these key taps too.

May you also see my heart, friends.

Thanks for coming on this journey with me... I'm so looking forward to seeing what is to come.

Cassandra

Some blogs I find particularly HONEST and OPEN and PRETENSE-FREE:
A Holy Experience
We are THAT Family
The Gypsy Mama
Big House in the Little Woods

(There are many... but these are ones I love and visit often, if not daily...)

God Bless in 2012!

Hope for the Lonely Mom...

2011-12-29T16:17:00.000-08:00

I remember when our eldest was a baby – I was young, unprepared, and felt exasperated most of the time. To describe me as a ‘nervous new Mom’ would be huge understatement. I mean, I would leap out of bed like a shot when our son but whimpered. I would cry uncontrollably, head in hands, outside his bedroom door when he screamed in his crib, even after two hours of cuddling and rocking him to sleep. I had a pile of parenting books stacked high and my child was only 6 months old. I felt like I had no idea what I was doing as a parent and lacked the confidence to mingle at “Mommy and Me” groups where I was told I could ‘make other Mom friends’.

Then our second baby came, then the third. Boom, boom, boom. My quiver was more than full and I was impossibly overwhelmed with three babies under the age of three. I remember the days I would sit with my arms around my children, one nursing, one crying, and one screaming – and me, weeping. Weeping because I didn’t know how to handle the meltdowns, the never-ending needs, the tears falling, the arguments mounting. During the day, when I was at home, I felt so incredibly alone, and I. turned. to. no. one...

To read the rest of this post, head over to my guest writing over at The Better Mom!

A Drummer Boy Christmas...

2011-12-26T20:43:00.000-08:00

This Christmas was different. Because I'm different. Something has shifted in me – a move I can't ignore and I can't argue... can't argue... yet, must also choose to embrace.

The business of change is a tough one.

This year, I'm still a mistake-maker. I'm still a messer-upper. Such a work, being molded, just like every one of us. These little people, specks on a massive globe. Putty in God's hands – if we're willing to be. And the difference this year, is I've finally been fully willing. I've finally surrendered.

“Surrendered what?”

My pride. My big headed ways that silently shouted at God, 'I know best!'. My anger. My unforgiveness. The hurt. The control. The pain. The power all this had over my thoughts and actions. My choices. Everything, I surrendered everything.

I've been thinking a lot this season about the Little Drummer Boy. I know, I know, the story is fictional... he's merely a character made up for a song, not a real part of the Christmas Story (or at least, as we play it out on stage). I get it. But he is an amazing character, this poor boy.

My daughter decided it was her favourite song and begged me to sing it constantly. We read the books, watched the new Veggie Tales movie... it seems this year the Little Drummer Boy was trying to tell me something. And about a week ago, I got it.

I am the Little Drummer Boy.

The simplefied lyric is this:

"Come, they told me,

a newborn King to see!

Our finest gifts we bring-

to lay before the King.

So to honour Him...

when we come.

Little baby, I am a poor boy too.

I have no gift to bring, that's fit for a King."

And in a moment, I realize it. I am poor in every way imaginable that matters - alone, I am nothing. I have no gifts to bring that are 'fit' for the King. The King of all Kings. Nothing can ever be enough for Jesus, not by my own power, not by my own riches, or possessions or gifts - either physical or spiritual. He deserves all honour and praise, but what can I possibly bring that is 'fit' for this mighty, Awesome King?

"Shall I play for you, on my drum!?

Mary noded, the ox and lamb kept time.

I played my drum for Him -

I played my best for Him,

me and my drum.

Then He smiled at me,

me and my drum."

Alone, I am empty. A tomb. With Christ, I have everything I've ever needed. It is His grace that makes me enough... washes over, like an ocean of mercy. And I'm drowning - daily. I am the Drummer Boy - poor, lacking everything. Yet, He came, and died, and rose again to give me life, and not just life, but life to the fullest. And, how He loves. Through His grace, I can approach the thrown of mercy and He takes my hand. Me. My hand.

And so, this Christmas I asked myself, 'what is my drum?'

The Little Drummer boy took what he had and offered it as praise to the King. He had only what God had given him, this gift of music and an instrument to keep beat upon. He used the rawhide and wood around his neck to drum out worship and in doing so, He honored Jesus. He wholeheartedly offered up what he had.

So again, I asked myself, 'what is my drum?'. What is God asking me to offer up? Because God sees us differently than the world sees us. And although the story is fictional - I think it's safe to say it is accurate based on a biblical view of Jesus. I have no doubts that the simple yet soulful beating of a young boy's drum would have honoured God in the highest. It is what lies in the heart that He sees.

Humbleness. A willingness to submit. A loving desire to obey and submit, even when it's hard.

My drum? Control. Anger. Unforgiveness. Hurt. Pain. Trying to do things my way instead of letting go and doing it God's way. That's my drum. And yes, it's very, very heavy. And this surrender didn't start on Christmas Day, oh my gosh! This has been a process over several years, amplified in the past few months by things beyond my control. The realization came this blessed season as I was able to do things I've never done before. Forgive freely and fully for pain that has burrowed deep and turn my soul to stone. Extend grace in all it's richness - because it was first given to me by Him. To release the handle on my own life and lay it at His blessed feet, once babe, always King of all Kings.

And it is not me, but Him in me who gives me strength and ability. And I am blessed by obedience.
We all have a drum. We all have deep, meaningful 'gifts' we can release into God's hands in obedience and love... and His perfection shines brighter than all our scars and bruises. What is in your heart this season? What is God gently whispering in your ears? Or maybe it's screaming so loud you just can't ignore it? Let go... don't let it take as long as it took me.

His light outshines it all and I know, just like the song says... He smiles at us.

In His Grace,

Cassandra

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Linked in at A Holy Experience.

Christmas Is...

2011-12-26T11:32:00.000-08:00

Blessed. Beautiful.

Bountiful. But a Moment.

The Joy of Giving...

Painting fingers for our finger print snowmen Christmas balls...

Bow, bows, shiny and new...

Blessed Times...

All for and all from the Saviour.

Molly cuddles with a sick baby girl... first Christmas with our pup...

Simon's way of 'helping with the wrapping"... ha.

"... family gathered 'round... the Christmas tree..."

Warm moments, blessed by Grandmas...

One goofy husband, please? Check. I love this man.

"Mama, I want to be an artist when I grow up..." - Audrey

"The thing I like best, is games." - Simon

"Ohhh... trains...." - Alex

Cherished moments with Grandpa.

The moment I realized Great-Grandma is a pianist.

Ice Cream Cones...

"These people, I have not cherished enough, life is but a fleeting moment..."

It's the moment you open a box and your heart leaps out of your chest. How? Where? How could this be!? I shriek (very uncharacteristic of me) and gulp back tears. My parents. Leave it to my amazing parents. They somehow got this beautiful, one of a kind keepsake sandstone box, made in Kenya. They somehow were able to completely surprise me... I wish some one could have taken a photo of my face in that moment...

We were at a Christmas craft show, I gazed at this piece for two days but couldn't spend the money on it... I simple pointed and mentioned how much I loved it. Later that day, I went to look at the small international ministry's table and it was gone. A lump formed in my stomach. I so wanted it. It represented to me a commitment - to Africa... to Uganda... to an answer to prayer... to a ministry. Lord, I will follow. Mom and Dad, you have no idea how special this is to me.

Grandma's Pie... is there anything better? No.

He who has not Christmas in his heart

will never find it under a tree.

~Roy L. Smith

Hoping your Christmas was full of warm memories...

Cassandra

The Good Place...

2011-12-21T13:12:00.000-08:00

I think this is the first Christmas since I've been married that I've been in a really good place. I mean, really good. My eyes are wide open. I'm trying hard to see everything, every little thing for the gift it is. Right now, three children busily prepare a basement camp-out to eat lunch in... Celtic Christmas quietly hums through our home. We just finished baking big batches of Sugar Cookies together. The lights are sparkling, the candles are lit... this moment, my heart sighs happily. If ever there was an "I'm there" moment - it'd be now. I'm here. I'm at that place. My ego pumps up a bit at the calm in our cheery little home. 'What a great job I've done' is the unclarified thought in the back of my hard head.

Then, right then, a sister screams and a crash - kids are fighting again. Big brother hits little one... sister retaliates... a three-year-old has blood coming from his eye and older siblings flee the scene. And I'm quick to anger. "WHAT NOW?!?" Nothing. "Why can't you guys just be peaceful and get along!!?!" No answer. I'm yelling now- ranting, actually. "I get so frustrated with the arguing lately. Guys, honestly! Simon, what is going on? What happened? Audrey? What's the deal? What happened to Alex's eye??? GUYS?!"

I cradle a wailing child and feel my neck ache from tension.

Wait - where is my moment?

I was there! You know, that self-proclaimed "THERE"! And I heave a different sigh now - one of exasperation rather than satisfaction as two older kids come and stand in a row staring at this Mother they've been given. I'm so imperfect but I'm learning. I shake my head and ask them to please keep their hands to themselves when they are angry, this is how accidents happen, afterall! (chuckle...I do sound like a Mom...)

Alex's eye is fine, he's laughing and running now. We move forward. And I close my eyes, begging God for His grace. When quiet comes momentarily again, I'm realizing that even the chaos is for rejoicing in. I can't 'get there'. I never will. I'm me. And I suck most of the time. Let's be real... we're human and our parenting is anything but ideal at times. But He can take me and in Him, I can find the Good Place He has made for me, right in the middle of this CRAZY place. Where my imperfections become points of submission and crazy prayer... and at times, insane, falling to my knees, banging a fist prayer... but that's the Good Place. When the days are imperfect and crazy, but still Holy... that's the Good Place.

It doesn't have to be a perfect place... I know, I know...

It just has to be a moving-forward, learning, realizing I can't do it, and then leaning-on-God Place.

Be Blessed today friends... writing to you from a quiet couch while three kids sleep off sickness... and yes, still grasping for those Good Places, today, and always.

In Grace and Love,

Cassandra

LINKED IN: A Holy Experience

Connecting Again...

2011-12-18T19:41:00.000-08:00

This weekend, for the first time in about 8 years, my husband and I got away. We took two days and spent them in a small Mennonite town about an hour from our home. We stayed at a beautiful bed and breakfast, lounged, chatted slowly, sipped wine (yep, even me... three sips in total), saw an enchanting musical, strolled down old trails and lanes fit for horse and carriage, bought loose leaf tea, raw honey, candy apples, and chocolate, ate lunch in a tiny bakery bustling with small town activity, and just enjoyed each other's company. We did this - we connected.

When our babies were little I was too nervous to leave for two hours, let alone an entire night. But, now, with our youngest at three, I agreed to put my husband first for two days and indulge in some alone time with this amazing man God gave me. We were married at 20 - and ironically, a sweet young friend picked us to interview today for a project she's doing about marriage. I chuckle at the thought of being married nearly a decade and still feeling like kids. When did we grow up? When did two teens lost in puppy love end up here? How did we overcome everything we were thrown (and oh, we've been thrown almost everything - from others - and from within - and the stuff we've whipped at eachother). I chatted with a friend who told me Wes and I were 'the exception'. That most people married young split up. At least, that's what she had experienced. I grimaced... and I thought alound, "But it's all a choice." You choose to commit to Jesus - and then to your spouse. The commitment is forever and it is non-returnable or refundable (too bad for my hubs, apparently, I'm expensive). We are in it for life and this was our stance when we said "I do" when I was three months pregnant, unprepared, and clueless about marriage or motherhood.

It's been a journey and we've grown more than I can explain in the past eight years. I'm so thankful for the time we've struggled, because those times have helped me grow stronger and more grateful for the good times. I wrote again before we left on Friday... in Our Journal. We have this journal - I forced Wes to write in it with me (not forced but close enough) when we started dating. It has been an amazing way we've connected through the years.

An entry by Wes from our first few months together... (smile)

One from me...

It is a gift now, as we flip the pages and literally read through the very moments of our growth together. I wrote in it again this week, for the first time in over a year, so I could read to my husband my feelings when we had quiet time alone.

So I could tell him I've been selfish. I've focused on myself more than him. I've ignored his feelings and his needs far too often and for far too long. I've dwelled on how I'm connecting with our children and remembering the cherish the moments with them - but what about my husband? Do I focus on the moments I have with him? Life is no guarentee. Life with this man is a gift - a totally grace-filled gift. I didn't earn him. He didn't earn me. We were given to each other. How do I cherish this present? How do I nurture our love daily? How do I speak life, rather than death? How do I build up and hold tight?

I haven't. I mean, not really. Not madly... not the way I should be to truly honor my husband and God. Not to truly bless myself and my children with the joy that comes from the closeness we can achieve when we love selflessly and accept selfless love poured on us.

Connecting to this man again - is bliss. We're laughing. We're joking with eachother and flirting. We're kissing. We're embracing. I'm happier. I'm filled with love, joy, a good attitude. We text silly things to each other and can't wait to see each other - it's amazing. Our children are noticing. They love it. I've been renewed. I've been revived. Our love burns for each other... we want nothing more than to be a force to be reckoned with on this green earth. That we would truly build one another up and stand for each other in the hard times and also in the good. We will fight for this - because it is a battle to maintain a marriage and make it healthy. Not just healthy, but thriving.

We have decided to rekindle the words on paper to each other. To purposefully whisper love notes to each other through Our Journal. And we both know it will bless us emensely. All things worth doing take some effort. Choosing to invest in each other means going the extra mile to connect, even in this hectic, crazy three-children-still-really-little phase of life. Because there is always an excuse, it's how we respond to potential excuses that defines who we become as a couple...

I've written for longer than 5 minutes, and this is supposed to be 5 Minute Friday's post... so... I'll stop there. (wink)

xo

Cassandra

Linked in: Five Minute Friday - "Connected" (couldn't have picked a better topic for me this weekend!)

Christmas - in light of Eternity

2011-12-13T07:06:00.000-08:00

I know a beautiful, God-loving family who lost their son in a tragic car accident 2 years ago this week. Two weeks before Christmas. My heart turns inside my chest. I can't imagine what they have pulled themselves through, by the sweet grace of God. Three years ago this January, I watched my Aunt Deb, who I loved so dearly, die slowly. Over the Christmas season we watched her digress from the vibrant, happy, outgoing woman everyone wanted to be around - to bed-ridden and unable to speak or respond to us; cancer greedily sucking the life right out of her.

I chatted with my Grandma on the phone the other day. I love my Grandma. She chuckled mildly at my retelling of our daily antics and listened as I jammered on about baking this and that and how the kids had poured flour everywhere but it was still fun. I commented how Christmas was so busy sometimes - that we had to work hard to really embrace and enjoy. Her response shocked me, "Oh well - I'd just as soon get rid of the whole thing anyways," she bluntly stated. "Grams! You mean, Christmas?!" "Oh well... I don't really have much need for it..."

Christmas is not always 'the most wonderful time of the year'. I know my Grandma is only reminded of the loss of her daughter three years ago - and it is harshly painful. When I talk to my Mom, she's teary-eyed too. I don't have to ask to know why the tears well up - they're for her sister, taken too soon, taken at 50. We are reminded how, on Christmas, Aunt Deb would always wear red in her sweater, and on her freshly manicured nails - looking gorgeous, as usual. She'd decorate her dinner table fit for Kings and Queens, Josh Groban softly crooning Holiday ballads from the stereo. There would be fresh poinsettias on the corner table and a box of Lindor lovingly placed above every person's plate setting. She'd bicker with my Uncle Tony while finishing up the meal preparations and we'd all chuckle. After dinner - peculated coffee, Grandma's pies, and then - the After Eight chocolates. My heart burns inside my chest for my Aunt Deb at Christmas. And I know I'm not alone.

For so many of us, this season is a bitter sweet reminder of those we no longer hold. Those who've left a hallow spot by the fireplace... those who do not wake to the twinkle of an expectant Christmas tree. Those who are not here for us to tell them we love them. For some, there are deep regrets of what wasn't said, done, reconciled, shared. For others, there's a slow and steady beat of a grace drum - the pain so deep, so piercing... they know things are going to be okay, but wonder still - how?

I am ridiculously, abundantly, unconditionally blessed. This Christmas season and always. I wrestle to cling to my blessings. I desperately try to remind myself daily what this season is about - Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. I repeat gifts this morning - and I'm even too shallow to go deep enough to REALLY embrace them. "Let's see... things to be thankful for... um... new lights on the Christmas tree - finally, they're even! ... a hot cup of coffee to sip... three children quietly watching Curious George while I shake a sleepless night at 7am... I love that monkey right now..."

*sigh*

My lists of gifts quickly turn to the silliest things. Yes, I've thanked God for Curious George. And I know some Moms can relate. *smile* But, I want to be transparent with you this Christmas... I want to focus on the little blessings, sure. It's so important for us to notice the small, seemingly insignificant presents - because they make up life's heartbeat and bring pure joy in the everyday.

But - really, this season, I want to view Christmas in light of Eternity. There is a radiant gift wrapped in glorious shimmering light, with a giant bow and a tag with MY NAME scrolled in God's own hand-writing. It's screaming "OPEN ME!". This is the kind of present God graciously pours down through my soul-chimney.

The gift of Jesus. The gift of eternity with Him, if we believe. And I believe. And when we look at our lost ones and our loved one with the Eternity View, something shifts deeply inside of us. The pain is easier to bear. The losses, still heavy, are made lighter on our shoulders. The symbols of Christmas - the decorations, the traditions, the dinners, the gifts, all of it - all of it is useless, if not in light of Eternity. If all isn't received with open palms and a whisper within of "Thank you Jesus... thank you for these gifts, all this grace, undeserved - everything... everything in light of You."

I trust our children will be bouncing and giggling at 6 am on Christmas morning. My husband and I will be stumbling down the stairs, clearing the sleep to open our eyes wide to the moment. We'll embrace loved ones we haven't seen in too long. We'll smile wide as we give the perfect, love-inspired box. We'll share morning prayers for our friends in Uganda, enjoying their own blessed moments. We, by God's will, can share special times - times we'll never repeat. Times you can't get back or do-over.

Life is a gift. Fickle. Gone in an instant. I was jolted into that reality when I literally watched a loved-one die in front of my very eyes. I don't want to forget the truth that saturated my bones during that season of my life. It changed me. I can't forget - this life is not certain. This Christmas is now. I'm not promised another one. None of us are.

Unwrap the gift of life this Christmas. Bow low and dare to be deeply grateful just to be part of this season. To be given the chance to just be. Breathe in and out in light of Eternity... close your eyes at night in light of Eternity. Sit by a twinkling tree and let tears flow - in light of Eternity. Make cookies and Christmas cake with the children (and make a huge mess)- in light of Eternity. Bless others - in light of Eternity. Dress your son like Joseph for the Christmas pageant and laugh at that silly towel tied to his head - yes, do even that, in light of Eternity. Raise hands to heaven and thank Him - in light of Eternity.

This is not all there is. Earth is a footstool. I live expectant for what is to come. That every morning with Jesus will be Christmas, over and over and over. That the most warm and wonderful feelings here on earth are but glimmers of what He has prepared for this who love Him. My brow furrows and tears stream down. I'm smiling and preparing to make Christmas memories this day. And I literally bounce out of my blogging seat, with a bursting, grateful heart for the gift of that babe- wrapped in Mary's arms that cold, cold night. And for my beautiful babes - wrapped in my arms today.

Thank you Jesus - may we all embrace Christmas, but only in light of the eternal gift we have in You. We are invited to unwrap this grace daily... and I'm overwhelmed.

In His Grace,

Cassandra

Have Yourself an Ethical Little Christmas

2011-12-07T18:50:00.000-08:00

I deeply admire some families who choose to not give gifts at all when Christmas rolls around. I think it is an incredibly real and sacrificial way to preserve what Christmas is truly about. As for our family - we do exchange gifts, but we do it carefully. And as always, we're a work in progress. This year I made a firm commitment to myself and God - I was going to have a store-less Christmas. I wanted so much to give gifts that were not only meaningful and unique - but ethical. And yes, I'm one of those crazy anti-big-corporation people. I am. I admit it. I fight hard-headed to stay away from places like Wal-mart. (By the way, did you know Wal-mart is the #3 worst corporation in the world, especially for global ethics and justice? They use child labour. Yes, they do.) But it's not just about boycotting big companies or making a point.

I care deeply about people so I think hard on what I purchase and what that purchase means. I've been rocked to the core and so deeply convicted about this lately. It pains me to shop. I literally hate stores right now.

When we are asked to love our neighbour, we need to be fully aware and open to WHO our neighbour IS. Our neighbour is the farmer in Columbia who has a family that is starving because he is being exploited by a large coffee company. He works his hands raw but he still has no food... yet we sip steaming cups around our lavishly decorated holiday dining tables and thank Jesus for our meal...

Our neighbour is that beautiful girl-child who is forced to work 13 hours a day in a sweat shop in China, sewing the clothing we buy cheap for our children. The dress our daughter the same age wears to our Church Christmas pageant. Yes, the hem was measured and sewn after a hard smack on the face and the shout, "No talking back!" rang out at 1am. And the girl is only 10. She has no one and she is payed 1/4 the required minimum wage, if she is paid at all.

Our neighbour is the young boy of 12 who painfully stiches soccer balls through bloody fingers in a dark and dingy factory. We gush as our boy opens the gift of a new ball for the spring season, but that gift comes with a high price for a friend far from here.

Our neighbour is the single mother who sleeps on a hard cement floor of a workshop, unable to leave due to her abusive boss and excessive working hours and conditions. She sews clothing for major labels, the kind the rich buy. But she's living below the poverty line, unable to cloth or feed her own child.

This is reality. And so, this is Christmas. The West lines the stores - fools with big pocket books and we turn a blind eye to our neighbours. The tears burn my cheeks at the very thought of it. The dillussion. The illness. The sin. The complete and utter disgust that ripples through my body to think of the power my purchases have. The way I've contributed to child labour, unfair treatment of my friends and my neighbours. The weight is heavy, but nothing compaired to theirs.

With every dollar we spend this

Christmas (and always) we have the

ability to either exploit or empower

our neighbours.

I don't think there is anything wrong with blessing our friends and family members with Christmas gifts. It's a joyful, wonderful time of year for so many families, including ours. But please, friends, may we choose wisdom this season and always. Our purchases have very real implications in this world and I believe we will be held accountable for where we spent our money and what kind of companies we supported here on earth. Ignorance is not an option. We are called to live lives on purpose. That means what we buy matters.

Choose to empower and bring hope to your neighbours this Christmas. Here are some of the things I've implemented to help us purchase ethically this Christmas...

1. Research the stores you shop at and the brands you are considering purchasing. Look for ethically sound companies by researching online and consulting books like the Better World Shopping Guide. Be aware of their ratings and what kind of labour they use in the fabricatio of their products. Also, what agendas do they support and what to they believe in as a corporation? As we've done, you could consider not shopping at stores at all.

2. Purchase through organizations who are empowering people through fair trade and better than fair trade alliances. This year, every single gift I bought (minus a few educational books, etc. for our children) came from either a local artisan who was supporting a ministry or from a ministry who was helping to support friends and neighbours overseas and in developing countries. A beautiful treasure box from India, a pair of leg warmers from a family in Nepal who knit and make better than fair trade wages through a small organization, necklaces and Christmas cards from a Ugandan organization so close to my heart, hand-made pottery from a beautiful lady rich in generosity and God's love, handmade items from a an inspiring and talented immigrant woman, unique serving spoons from a Kenyan ministry, and the list goes on. Some examples of places/groups I love - Tutalea, African Soles, Ten Thousand Villages. I'm sure many of you have tons you could tell me about, and I'd love for you to mention ideas in the comments or email me!

3. Don't be afraid to stop buying certain brands and stop shopping certain stores. Yes, it may inconvenience you. But, truly, what are the important things in life? For me - knowing that my purchases are loving, trumps any 'inconvenience' in my own little life.

And that's really what it's about - being loving with our purchases. Loving our neighbour means knowing how what we've piled beside the cash register affects our friends half-way around the world.

Source - Ten Thousand Villages, Ugandan women, preparing to weave artisan baskets.

Let us choose to make an eternal impact this year by choosing gifts that reach a loving hand to those in need rather than taking from and expoiting those who God has entrusted to us to love as sisters and brothers.

In Grace -

Cassandra

Linked in:
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A Holy Experience

The Santa Claus Lie

2011-12-05T06:11:00.000-08:00

Our kids are told the truth about Santa.

We don't tell our children Santa Claus is a magical man who will come down the chimney and bring them gifts. They don't believe in a North Pole with Santa's workshop and elves and reindeer who fly. They know it's pretend. They know it's a legend. They learn this as soon as they can listen and understand.

So, why do we tell our kids the truth about Santa?

1. Because, we don't lie to our children. Nope, not ever. When we welcomed our first child into our arms and this earth, my husband and I made a conscious decision to always be truthful with our children. It's God's law, sure - but at the basis of "thou shall not lie" is the idea that lying hurts those we love.

If I whole-heartedly tell my chidlren that Santa Claus is real, and they later find out he is not, how will this make them feel? How will their trust in me be affected? I want our children to fully and completely trust their parents. When I tell them God is real and Jesus died for them and they are living miraculous, beautiful, grace-filled lives - I want them to believe me. And they DO believe me. Because I've never lied to them.

To establish the trust that my word is reliable, I must make it so. Telling our children an elaborate story about a man in red magically coming down the chimney and bringing toys to our home doesn't make sense. I want our children to trust and believe the words my husband and I tell them. Believe the truths of the bible, history, what is important in life, and their purpose.

I just can't make sense of lying to our children about anything, never mind the big red guy. I believe being honest and truthful with children means respecting them and treating them with integrity and kindness. Our children are told the real story of St. Nick. We respectfully explain that some parents tell their children "Santa" is real and magical and we explain what some children believe. We then follow that with helping them understand that we want to be honest with them and tell them the truth. Our children respond very warmly and have a lot of understanding and regard for what most other children view as 'real'. But I also know how much they value that Mommy and Daddy respect them so deeply - lying to them is not an option. They are treated as equals in this way.

When speaking to other followers of Jesus who tell their children Santa is real, I would dare to respectfully ask:

When your children realize everything you ever told them about Santa is a lie - don't you fear they'll question that everything you ever told them about Jesus is a lie?

2. We want Christmas to be about Jesus.

Santa Claus has become the most celebrated man of the Christmas season. Santa-themed decorations and products out number Nativity-based themes more than two to one. There's no doubt culture is making swift strides to oust Jesus out of Christmas all-together. I don't know what the rules are where you live, but here, the children who go to school often can't even say "Merry Christmas" because of it's 'religious' connotations. Children in many schools do not sing taditional Christ-centered songs because they upset people who may not or do not 'believe'. Santa is welcomed with open arms though. Even praised. Jesus - He's offensive.

A scene from the movie The Nativity.

There are enough material things to distract us from the true meaning of Christmas. We don't need a fat man in a red jump suit to become our children's focus. He represents getting gifts, in most pop-culture presentations. "Make your list for Santa! Tell him what you want! Santa's coming to bring presents on Christmas Eve!" Not to mention the strange and bribery-bent idea of "you better watch out, you better not cry, you better be good, I'm telling you why...". I hate that. I can't tell you how many parents I've heard recently bribing their children with this garbage. "You better be good, Santa is watching... you want to get good presents!" I just can't make sense of this... do we even listen to ourselves? Truly though, we've moved from what Saint Nicholas actually represented - which was the joy that comes from GIVING and loving others unconditionally, to a completely conditional attitude of getting.

I'd dare to suggest the whole Santa 'thing' is in reality, quite evil. Anything to take the hearts and minds of the people off of Jesus. Santa becomes like a god of the season, ripping our attention from the deep, spirit-filled meaning of this blessed time. Santa Claus is the focus for millions of family in the place of Jesus Christ. We end up with this vacant and very confusing celebration, once filled with the light of the Lamb, now filled with consumerism and Santa Claus instead.

A friend recently posted this on her Facebook status, I thought it was worth sharing:

Twas the month before Christmas
... When all through our land,
Not a Christian was praying
... Nor taking a stand.
See the PC Police had taken away
The reason for Christmas - no one could say
The children were told by their schools not to sing
About Shepherds and Wise Men and Angels and things.
It might hurt people's feelings, the teachers would say
December 25this just a ' Holiday '.
Yet the shoppers were ready with cash, cheques and credit
Pushing folks down to the floor just to get it!
CDs from Madonna, an X BOX, an I-Pod
Something was changing, something quite odd!
Retailers promoted Ramadan and Kwanzaa
In hopes to sell books by Franken & Fonda.
As Targets were hanging their trees upside down
At Lowe's the word Christmas - was no where to be found.
At K-Mart and Staples and Penny's and Sears
You won't hear the word Christmas; it won't touch your ears.
Inclusive, sensitive, Di-ver-si-ty
Are words that were used to intimidate me.
Now Daschle, Now Darden, Now Sharpton, Wolf Blitzen
On Boxer, on Rather, on Kerry, on Clinton !
At the top of the Senate, there arose such a clatter
To eliminate Jesus, in all public matter.
And we spoke not a word, as they took away our faith
Forbidden to speak of salvation and grace
The true Gift of Christmas was exchanged and discarded
The reason for the season, stopped before it started.
So as you celebrate 'Winter Break' under your 'Dream Tree'
Sipping your Starbucks, listen to me.
Choose your words carefully, choose what you say
Shout MERRY CHRISTMAS,
not Happy Holiday !
Please, all Christians join together and
wish everyone you meet
MERRY CHRISTMAS
Christ is The Reason' for the Christ-mas Season.

Please, friends, understand- I respect every parent's right to do as they choose. I'm not saying parents who tell their children Santa is 'real' are bad or making a poor choice. I'm not saying our way is everyone's way. We live by our convictions. I'm just putting the thought out there - perhaps we should consider more deeply why it is that millions of parents lie to their children at this blessed Christmas time.

In His Love,

Cassandra

Guest Post at The Better Mom - Violence in Video Games

2011-11-30T06:57:00.000-08:00

There’s been increased debate about video game violence ever since three months ago, when the US Supreme Court ruled to lift the California state restriction of the sale of violent video games to minors. The law found that restricting young children from purchasing games rated M (Mature) or A (Adult, or, pornographic) was unconstitutional. This opens up a world of possibility for young gamers, and a boat-load of problems for concerned parents and educators.

The problem of video game violence isn’t new, the violence is just worse and more realistic than it’s ever been. Games are becoming darker, scarier, riskier, more cutting edge – and despite an enforced ratings system, there are very few restrictions on who can play. Parents are left to decipher what is acceptable, what isn’t, and what needs careful evaluation.

To read the full post, click over to The Better Mom!

Daily Surrender, Daily Renewal

2011-11-30T06:46:00.000-08:00

I find how most people have an interesting view of home educators. Sure, ideas about living within the 'homeschool' span the horizon but the ladies I speak to share a common response - "Wow, I could never do that! You must be an amazing Mom..." (or something along those lines). I always feel incredibly uncomfortable with comments that glorify my Mom-hood. Incredibly uncomfortable.

I'm not perfect. In fact, some days we barely make it. Like the last few, where I've yelled at my children, pushed my puppy out in the rain, and spent twenty minutes secretly crying out to God in the bathroom. Home Education is a calling. I feel I've been called to this task. I know it is His will for our family. But God doesn't always ask us to do the easy stuff. Homeschooling is incredibly, fully, completely self-sacrificing. The days are long and hard and right now, I'm exhausted, exasperated, and wondering how I will ever fill the shoes my children need me to fill in this world. Counselor, guide, lover of their soul, spiritual helper, academic teacher and facilitator, an example of the endless and unconditional love of Jesus and on and on the list goes.

My first reaction is to look to the sky and beg, "Why? How?!" How God, am I going to raise these children to Your glory?! I feel like I'm so incredibly unequipped.

When days are lived on the edge of 'coping'... Jesus is the true source of strength.

And I know not just home educators feel this way. I'm sure at some point (or all the time?) most parents can experience these feelings of inadequacy. Or fear - as I've identified. And the task of Motherhood is no easy one. It's intense and filled with physical, mental, spiritual, and social labor. It's 24/7. It never ends. And it's deeply personal.

So, I've begun a daily surrender of our home and my parenting to Jesus. In recognition that no, I don't have what it takes to raise our children for Jesus. But He who is in me does. In recognition that I am so insanely flawed I could never 'get there' on my own. But He who is my helper, holds me up on this journey, making my way straight. That patience and unconditional love and peace are poured down on me from Above - not wrestled up from inside.

Every night, I find a way to get alone with God. Alone. Not with my husband or other ladies - completely on my own. Sometimes, often times, this happens in the car driving to and from different appointments, journey group, and errands. I usually sing songs and get in the presence of Jesus that way. I mean, I'm sure I look like a full-out crazy person... tears streaming down my face, furrowed brow, and one hand passionately raised. Either that or a fist punching at the sky with intensity as I proclaim truth and ask for renewal from the day. I desperately need these times. I live off them. I crave these moments with God. And He fills me.

One song I find profoundly renewing is "How He Loves". To, every day, sing out to God and confirm within my own heart the truth of how much He loves me:

"He is jealous for me.

His love's like a hurricane, I am a tree -

bending beneath the weight of His wind and mercy.

When all of a sudden, I am unaware

of these afflictions eclipsed by glory...

and I realize just how beautiful You are and

HOW GREAT YOUR AFFECTION IS FOR ME. (Praise God!)

And we are His portion, and He is our prize (Amen.)

Drawn to redemption by the grace in His eyes.

If His grace is an ocean, we're all sinking...

And Heaven meets earth like an unforeseen kiss,

and my heart turns violently inside of my chest -

I don't have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way...

He Love Us... Oh, how He loves us..."

(David Crowder)

And nothing renews me like the confession of these truths. That no matter how many mistakes I make, no matter how ill-equipped I feel, no matter how 'not there' I am - He loves me. He called me to be this woman. He called me to be a Mom, and a Home Educator, and gave me the gifts AND the weaknesses. He is shaping me and molding me and I need only to surrender to His grace. It is an ocean - and, oh my goodness, yes... I'm sinking in this undeserved grace.

It is not in our own strength that we raise children to His glory. It is Him in us that gives us what we need. So, daily surrender to His will and His schedule. Daily, renew yourself in His truth about who you are and your worth and value to Him. He gives strength to those who call out to Him. Don't try to do it on your own - I've been there... it doesn't work. It took me years to learn to surrender to the One who can make me whole. I cry out daily. And it is a daily need. Even Jesus Himself got alone with God and daily cried to Him.

Perfection? We'll never get there. But He's there. We need only to draw strength and direction from Him. That means stopping in the midst of a stressful moment and reaching your hands to the sky and saying aloud, "Father! I don't have the strength! Fill me with your love and patience!!!". (Yes, your kids will think you are a bit crazy - but they will learn first-hand that you rely on Jesus in a very real way). Or in the middle of a melt-down, bowing a knew and whispering, "All to You God... I lay it at your thrown... I don't know what to do when my child is hitting me God... make me like You. Give me the responses I should have..." It's practical. It's daily. It's so incredibly necessary for those of us who call Jesus Lord. He wants that kind of intimacy with us and He promises to be there when we ask for Him.

The Lord is my strength and my shield;

my heart trust in Him and I am helped.

My heart leaps for joy

and I will give thanks to Him in song.

The Lord is the strength of His people, (of the MOMS!)

a fortress of salvation for his anointed one.

Ps. 28:7-8

The Lord gives strength (to the Moms);

the Lord blesses (the Moms!) with peace.

Ps. 29:11

God is our refuge and strength,

an ever-present help in trouble.

Ps. 46:1

Jesus said,

"My grace is sufficient for you,

for my power is made perfect in weakness.

2 Cor. 12:9

Amen... because about the only thing I'm perfect at is being weak. Praise God... walk with Him today, ladies.

In Christ's love as I'm working through it all,

Cassandra

Linked In:

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Raising Homemakers

What Sex Isn't.

2011-11-20T21:40:00.000-08:00

Sex. There I said it. That three-letter word that renders gasps through the unpadded pews. Sex. Sex. Sex. God made it; hand-crafted for our pleasure and His delight. A gift. I often wonder why so many Christians just can't talk about it. Sex is wonderful, beautiful, spiritual. Normal.

I listen to two beautiful, grounded teenage girls talk about a day in high school:

"It's nothing for a guy in the hall to come up behind a girl and grab her boobs. Or her butt. Or slap her butt and make some comment about her body."

"Oh yeah. That's nothing. It's everyday. You just learn to live with it. There's no respect. Girls are objects."

I breathe deeply, tears stinging the corners of my wide eyes.

"All my friends go to these parties... these parties where everyone gets wasted and then does whatever with whoever. It's normal. It's what people do. If you don't do it, you're weird. I mean, they've having sex wherever."

"Um-hm. And - girls I know that are eleven - they talk about feeling pressure to give oral sex to boys at school. I mean, they're eleven. It makes me so incredibly sad."

These girls are fifteen and seventeen, and so it goes in culture today. Young girls who desperately cling to truth yet are bombarded with filth every. single. day. And I deeply search for something worth saying, but all I can do is stare, eyes glistening. All I can do is pray with them. Pray for them. And hope. Hope they live through it and get to the other side without having their innocence completely ripped from them. Without having their purity snatched and torn to shreds. Trampled. What was once a glorious and radiant gift from God, stolen and beaten into the ground.

But the truth remains, for most young people sex isn't sacred. I mean, for most old people sex isn't sacred either. It is something to do. Something to look at on the internet. A way to abuse people. A way to make money. A way to spend money. A status symbol of achievement. A pathway to the inner circle. A normalized kind of prostitution without payment. It's a way to get what you want. A way to control others. A way to feel oddly empowered when you truly are so incredibly weak and powerless. But sacred? Not even close.

Young people's lives are filled with images of women as sex symbols, men as aggressors, and sex as nothing more than a control game of seducer and the seduced. Music does it, TV does it, movies do it, reality TV does it, radio talks crudely, no one turns it off - and our children and teens become unknowing sitting ducks for the kind of smut that cuts deep and bleeds red.

And so, why are we shocked that combined with rampant absentee parenting, full-out peer reliance, and for the most part, a complete lack of Jesus - these kids don't seek to find acceptance from above and from within? They are lost, hurting, and willing to find 'love' in any way they can. Even if it means having sex with a stranger in the dirty bathroom of an under-age club. (These are the stories I am told).

They are numb. They are emotionless. They crave to feel something, anything. A rush. A connection. Loved. Yet, they give themselves away and come up feeling abandoned, used, and ruined emotionally, spiritually, and sometimes, physically.

Sex has been twisted. Tainted. So, incredibly dirtied. Worldly culture has stripped it down to more of a recreational activity than any kind of divine connection between man and wife. It's no wonder we live in a disconnected world full of people who are unable to empathize, commit, stay faithful, and experience deep intimacy.

1 Corinthians 6:16-18 (The Message):
"There's more to sex than mere skin on skin. Sex is as much spiritual mystery as physical fact. As written in Scripture, "The two become one." Since we want to become spiritually one with the Master, we must not pursue the kind of sex that avoids commitment and intimacy, leaving us more lonely than ever—the kind of sex that can never "become one." There is a sense in which sexual sins are different from all others. In sexual sin we violate the sacredness of our own bodies, these bodies that were made for God-given and God-modeled love, for "becoming one" with another. Or didn't you realize that your body is a sacred place, the place of the Holy Spirit? Don't you see that you can't live however you please, squandering what God paid such a high price for? The physical part of you is not some piece of property belonging to the spiritual part of you. God owns the whole works. So let people see God in and through your body."

Forgive me for sounding old fashioned, but I just believe sex is meant to be experienced by husband and wife, in the confounds of a sacred, blessed committed bond. I know, it's crazy, right? Well, the world says it is.

And I've HAD sex outside of marriage.

I'm looking in from the other side.

I've experienced the feeling that follows giving your heart, mind, and body to a boy only to have him use you up and leave you.

I've fought those battles, and still fight them with the scars those wounds left behind. I'm not better than anyone. I'm worse. I'm me. Maybe that's why the idea of the sacredness of SEX is a burning issue for me. How can I get the sacred back into myself? And how can I help keep the sacred for my children and for other people's children, as I counsel and lead them? Why am I still haunted by and dealing with things that happened nearly ten years ago? The sins of my sexual past? The sins of my husband's past? Everything is intertwined. One big tangled mess that binds us.

How? Why? The mountain is so big, so intimidating, I've wept in defeat way too many nights.

The enemy comes to steal, kill, and destroy.

And he wants to steal our intimacy. He wants us disconnected and hurting and unable to fully give ourselves to our spouse. He wants the sting of past hurts and past mistakes and regrets to linger forever and ever until we're so choked up we can't even breathe, let alone make love. He wants us to suffer. His goal is to steal our joy and joy, deep, profound joy, comes in the form of intimacy. It was God's divine gift to the married couple. This close, incredible bond we can share - that brings us into each other, makes us one, and molds us to one another. But Satan wants to grab hold of it, and rip it from us.

And it's working. The world is amuck. Sex is everywhere - leaking, no, oozing a stench it was never meant to have. Marriages don't last. Teens abuse each other. 12 year olds are giving sexual favors to boys AT SCHOOL. Women use their bodies and sexuality to control people and feel powerful. But instead, we are all so powerless. In bondage to sin and in bondage to our own shame and guilt.

Every time we give ourselves to someone in an intimate way, we 'become one' with them. I've learned we cannot become one with a person and then detach from them fully without a part of us being taken from us. Because just like two pieces of paper glued together CAN be torn apart, it's messy, and difficult, and pieces of each paper are left on the other, and the original page is never quite as whole as it once was. And the more people we 'stick' ourselves to, the more of ourselves we give away. Until there isn't much of us left. We are so incredibly broken.

And this is the path of those teens who party until they're plastered and sleep with a new stranger every weekend. The young girls who do 'favors' for their classmates to fit in. Who have no concept of sex as a sacred, intimate bond. And my tears flow fast and heavy for these little ones. The pain they will endure. The long, hard road ahead. The inability to connect. The inability to feel. God's holy design, murdered by lies.

We must protect that which is sacred. Shelter your children from pop-culture images. Build a powerful bond with them. Educate at home if you can. Know who they are with. Know what they are doing. Speak life into them. Share truth with them. Pray for them. Pray with them. Say the word SEX and speak of the truth God gives us in His word. Let them know they can ask anything, and you will answer. Tell them their body is a holy and sacred place. Walk them through the process of becoming an adult. Express deep gratitude for the gift of intimacy in the context of marriage. If you've messed up, share with them your hurts. Honesty. So much honesty.

And for the broken like me - we can walk to restore that which has been so violently shattered.

Every single day tears fall down my freckled cheeks for the grace poured on me by the Lord Jesus. Me. The wreck. The mistake-maker. The tantrum thrower. The always striving, never getting there. Me. One specific song really sits deep down in my own broken soul. It's called 'He Loves Us' and at one point in the song, the verse just reels, "He loves us, oh how He loves us, oh how He loves us..." on and on and on it goes and I get lost in worship, weeping as the truth burrows in my heart. It seems we need this kind of passionate, repetitive reminder of God's intense, over-the-top and unconditional love for His children. For us. We need to raise our faces to the sky, let peace rain down on us, and accept fully, right down in the gut - the truth of God's jealous love. For me. For you.

The bible tells us, as far as East is from West, that's how far God has removed our mistakes and mess-ups from us. We are completely washed clean, forgiven, presented with a new slate, white as snow. And this truth stands so that we can have hope and find freedom in it. That our past does not define us and cannot control us. That Satan does not have power over our lives and we can choose to rebuke the lies we are whispered about our self-worth and the value of intimacy.

"Let us draw near to God with a sincere heart in full assurance in faith, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water. Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful."

Hebrews 10:22-23

Jesus said, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness."

2 Cor. 12:9

Sex can be redeemed. If it's still sacred for you, hold on tight and don't let go. Praise God for the gifts He has given. If the intimacy and holiness of sex has been tossed by unexpected storms or waves from the past, if it seems like all is lost... have hope. God is a God of restoration and healing. He is the One who makes all things new. Cling to Him - in the good times and bad, in all seasons. Write His truths on your soul (and all over your home):

"God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work." 2 Cor. 9:8

"As high as the heavens are above the earth, so great is God's love for those who fear Him." Ps. 103:11

"You are a forgiving God, gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love. Neh. 9:17

"For I know the plans I have for you... to prosper you and not harm you. Plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11

Praise You, God- for your grace ever-flowing... ever needed... may I stay ever thirsty for You and always aware of how much You love me - no matter how undeserving I am. Restore the intimacy and sacredness Lord - breathe life into the hearts and marriages of those who read this... give us parents strength for the journey and wisdom to raise our children to love You first and value the gift of sex and intimacy within marriage. Let us be a shining light and testimony of Your power and unimaginable grace. Thank You, Jesus!

The Stranger in My Living Room (The Better Mom Guest Post)

2011-11-15T12:06:00.000-08:00

The Stranger in my Living Room came into our house by routine. He wasn’t ever invited, but he just seemed to always be there. It was a way of life – I was used to it. I didn’t really like him or trust him, but I was afraid to kick him out. I was so used to him being there, and everyone else had a Stranger in their Living Room – and their Kitchen, their child’s bedroom, rec room, and so on. Sometimes, he’d keep me company when I was lonely, and I’d giggle at some of the things he’d say. He gave me something to do when I was bored.

Powerful Interview with Ann Voskamp

2011-11-12T20:42:00.000-08:00

It doesn't surprise me in the slightest that Ann's home is both Radio and Television free. This is a moving, insightful, and deeply inspiring video worth watching/listening to... I just adore this woman's soul. What a gift her writing is. You can find her at A Holy Experience.

Unexpected (Five Minute Friday)

2011-11-11T12:12:00.000-08:00

I've always unknowingly trained myself to hate the unexpected. Order. My Dad raised me with order- or he tried. Bless his heart, he now lives the unexpected life of service to everyone and anyone around him. But in our house, when I was young, we didn't touch the walls (especially not with sticky hands) because, indeed, 'the walls held up themselves!'. Everything in it's place and a place for every thing. But, I've grown. And for the past seven years I've been wondering where the order flew to? Is there an island somewhere I'm unaware of... the habitat where my former brain is kept captive?

I kid. But somehow, I got blessed with this crazy, hectic, unbelievable whirlwind of a life. When people ask me my age, I have to count, because it feels like a decade of my life has passed and I'm desperately clinging to the moments in hopes of not missing it.

Everything was unexpected.

I never expected to be married. Have kids. (Let alone 3 children in 4 years.) Live in this God-given woodland neighborhood where creek walks are a daily adventure. To be educating our children at home... me? Who am I?

I never expected a pouring of God's grace so strong I can barely swim with it, or against it. Though there are times I've tried.

I never expected to be the one in the Grocery Store fuming while chasing running kids, running, not listening kids. "STOP! AH... Uh... PARKING LOT! Hello?! Guys!!!" And the people stare, like I used to, thinking, "...what a horrible Mother." I mean really, can't she get control of her kids?

I never expected to have such painful ups and downs in marriage. So painful, I can barely breath at times. So unexpected and surreal that I wonder if I'm in a dream when my husband reveals truths I didn't want to know.

But, Jesus... Jesus... He is the most unexpected of all. How He shows up when I never thought He would. He holds me when I'm falling and craddles me when I'm on the floor. He weaves a deep red fabric between husband and wife and all can be restored.

I never expected to have to be an adult. I mean, REALLY have to be an adult. But I think it's too late to protest. It's time to be real about what I've been made for and the unexpected purpose God has for all our lives. The truth has hit the shore line and there it will sit until I scoop it up and accept it. I surrender fully and have myself chizzeled from clay and molded sometimes gleefully, sometimes hesistantly, sometimes kicking and screaming.

But I trust and I know that the results of growth will be another grace-filled, crazy 'unexpected' that continues on until the day I leave this earth... never done changing, never done pressing on... never done being surprised by God's plan and mercies... ever flowing... always falling on us... always changing... always perfect.

Literary Studies - The Story about Ping (Five in a Row)

2011-11-10T21:22:00.000-08:00

We just finished up our Literary Study using The Story about Ping and we truly enjoyed our time with this classic. It never ceases to amaze me HOW MUCH can be extracted from one well-written piece of children's literature. As with any Five in a Row book, more can always be done - but we choose to focus on areas of interest for our children and move on when we feel we've accomplished our goals with the piece.

Learning About China and Chinese Culture:

Activities in Art, Music, Culture:
Number Characters, writing in Chinese
Chinese Slat Books with Chinese writing
Chinese Fans
Blossom Tree Paintings
Chinese Character Cards with Games

Chinese Blossom Tree - Watercolors, by our four-year-old daughter.

Making a Chinese Fan (from the link above).

Cultural Studies:

A Little Trip to Chinatown...

Our Trip to Chinatown was one of the highlights of this Literary Unit. Our children experienced as closely as they could, a community rich in Chinese culture. To enhance the experience, we decided to take the train and the underground street cars around the city. (It was an hour travel by train, then 30 minutes to Chinatown by street car).

Waiting for the train.

Kids who thoughtfully push boundaries grow up to question culture, ask 'why', and live life as leaders rather than followers. Embrace them and nurture them in the way they should go... and laugh. A lot. This (far right) is where our eldest spent the majority of the 20 minute wait. *cough*

First ride on a REAL train. Mama and two sweet (and excited) little ones...

Underground Street Cars... one of the scariest experiences of my life! Right out of a movie...

Expressionless = Overwhelmed.

When our Street Car bounded up from the underground darkness (thank you, Lord!), a new world was revealed to our children. They were enthralled with the big city. “Sky-skwaypahs!” shouted our three-year-old in wide-eyed wonder. I sat, quiet, taking it all in – watching them watch everything around them. This is not the life they're accustomed to. Babbling brooks, quiet walks – this is a HUGE city, and everything screams for attention. A man cuts in front of our street car on a bicycle, people run from corner to corner catching buses and cabs. It's a beautiful melting pot of races and cultures. Nothing like what we see in our small country town. Sure, we're seen cities (I grew up in a pretty big city) but THIS, THIS was a BIG city.

The streets are lined with markets – bright lights line one with piles of Chinese fans, flags, small toys, and trinkets. The next is a market, barrels of loose legumes, seeds, and vegetables lining the sidewalk, a small older man nods to us, unable to speak our language, but a warm smile says so much. We enter another store, loud cultural music blares. Our children choose a small Chinese drum to bring home for fun and when we enter back into the busy street, they insist upon mastering it while people bustle around and bump into our heels.

We try a Chinese pastry, cooked in front of us by two young women, who've set up a stand on the street, it's delicious – but I could barely catch the name of it, though I asked three times. I'm reminded how much a minority we truly are here. Tourist through and through. Our children chase pigeons (a bird they rarely see) in a large open (but paved) courtyard and I'm reminded of the comparison between big cities and concrete jungles. This truly IS a concrete jungle, but one infused with far-off culture.

The day was well worth the trip, but I'm renewed with a fresh love of the country and wide open spaces. I'm reminded how uncomfortable and out of place I feel in big cities. How much I dislike worrying about every little detail to ensure our children are safe and close. I like space. I like trees. I like streams. I much prefer our little life in the woods. But, for one day, the sacrifice was worth it for our children to have such a wonderful experience.

Breaking the rules for the ride home... hey, we could have saved money on tickets for "seats"... *wink*

Learning About Ducks:

We didn't spend a ton of time on Ducks for this Unit. We chose to focus more on China. We did, however, read many short stories and poems about Ducks and also enjoyed a good amount of time outdoors enjoying ducks one-on-one. Here is a poem we really enjoyed:

Photos from our outdoor Duck adventures:

"Here they come! Here they come!" The ducks approach under the wood bridge.

The view from here...

Because Education happens everywhere...

"The GIRLS WIN! The GIRLS WIN!" (A declaration that the females are far superior to the males in fending for their food... my kind of girls.)

Mama "Duck" looks on... feeling ridiculously blessed on this just 'duckie' day...
THIS is home schooling?

Coloring and Activity Pages:

The Great Wall of China
A Chinese Junk (Boat)
China's Flag
Map of China
Counting/Coloring PING's family

The Yangtze from a different view (learning about perspective in art), by our 6-yo.

The Yangtze River, by our daughter, age 4 (I helped her sketch the boat and some other details)

We also spent time studying buoyancy and the movement of water with this book. This included a trip to our stream to practice throwing various sized logs, rocks, and pebbles into the water to observe the effects on the water. We also used different objects and bowls of water to discover the buoyancy of a wide variety of materials.

Will the wood still float, even though it is rotten and waterlogged?

What happens when a stick hits the water? How does it affect the stick, the water, and the surroundings?

An example of our PING Lap Book:

Some Lap Book Elements:
(from Homeschool Share)

Flag/Map of China Booklets
Mini-Booklets for Ping Themes (Types of Ducks, Where does Ping Live?, Duck Classification, etc.)
Sequence Cards (great for practicing Narration and Memorization)

Additional Books and Resources Used:

Make Way for Ducklings, Robert McClauskey
The Ugly Duckling (retold, Usborne version)
China (Usborne, Information for Beginners Series)

Great Videos to further your family's Study:

I've posted these embedded here, as I prefer not to link to Youtube,

as I find it very unpredictable with content. Your children (and mine) are the most important priority, and I want to protect their hearts and minds from unwanted influences. If you wish to watch these with your children from this site, you will not link to any other videos except the ones here. I've watched them for quality and content and recommend these! Of course, I suggest you watch them yourself first, before presenting them to your children. (hug)

Chinese Lion Dance

This is China (tourism video, beautiful)

In the Spirit of Sharing,

Cassandra

When you feel the fool...

2011-11-07T05:08:00.000-08:00

Just a heartfelt note from my soul to yours...

I've taken a major break from blogging lately. Some of it has been completely involuntary - sheerly life with three children at home, a family to care for, and several other ministries and commitments on the go. But much of this break has been a heart-break. In more ways than one.

Personally, I am going through a lot right now. And it's been the weirdest experience to be going through a hard time and not want to write. Usually, writing is my lifeline and my most sincere form of self-communication and maybe self-medication too. But lately, things have been different. It's hard to write something profound when all your head does is pound from pain. It's hard to be 'wise' when you feel a fool. It's hard to shout God's love and ever-flowing grace, when you feel so unbelievably unworthy of the task. It's hard to continue to pour out when you feel so completely emptied inside.

And I know my hardships are nothing in the face of the things which others are going through. Really, I'm selfish to dwell on my own situations. I just really want to open up what IS there and communicate with the lovely and supportive community who reads these humble and sometimes annoying pages.

Lately, I've been going through a reluctant prunning season along with the 'stuff' I've been thrown within my marriage. It feels liks my heart and mind are being pulled through some sort of press - craking and grinding the worst and the best out of me. And it changes daily - from worst to best, back to worst, I mean.

I've spoken with people who have changed me. Amazing women who have unknowingly opened my eyes to my own judgmental spirit. And that's really hard to write. But I'm humbled too, as I read from the words of life-pourers who have shared wisdom and deep truth... the kind that shocks you to the core.

I've been reflecting upon everything. Life. My marriage. My commitment to God. My children. How I spend my time. What I write about that gets thousands of readers across the globe. (To my surprise and sincerest thanks.)

I've begun to wonder if I've been completely wrong all along. What if I'm wasting my time writing about all the things I write about? What if every word I write against pop-culture is simply breeding judgment in my own heart and the hearts of others? What if I'm wasting my time dwelling on the negative things in this world instead of fixing my eyes on the One who promises to restore it all to new?

What if my attitude has hindered others, not helped and encouraged them? What if, through me, unbelievers have thought Jesus-lovers to be judgmental and legalistic? What if, what if, what if... all these thoughts have brought me to tears and to my knees, over and over again.

This process of change started a couple months ago, when the lights went on at Church one day. It was something a friend said to me. She was about to chat about a new big screen TV her husband had purchased, but then sheepishly shrugged and quietly said, "...but you wouldn't agree with that, I know." I was shattered. My heart wrenched. I felt horrid and sick to my stomach. Why did it matter what I thought? And, truthfully, I didn't really think anything! I smirked at her comment of no longer seeing the wall for the screen. I get it. Most people love TV - and the way we live is not the norm, and that's ok. But maybe I should just keep my mouth shut for the sake of not hurting others. Or making them feel judged. Because, if you met me in 'real life', you'd know - I'm never looking my nose down at others. I'm truly not.

But perception is reality, so I've heard. And if it isn't reality, it sure can teach us a lot.

Then I meet a friend who does so many of the things I've written about and 'disagreed' (quite openly) with, and yet, she's amazing. She's beautiful and lovely, and such a wonderful parent. A more commited Mom than most of the ones I meet. She's in a different place than me. She's convicted by different things than me. And once again, that's OK. She's far better than me in so many ways, and I'm learning from her in ways that will change me forever.

So, in many ways, I feel the fool.

For the times I've offended people and never wanted to. For the times I opened my mouth when I shouldn't have. For the times I've 'preached' what I'm not equipped to teach.

Sure, our family is passionate about unplugging ourselves from pop-culture and media... but I desperately seek to plug IN to others in love and service. I cry at the thought of friends feeling excluded or looked upon because they don't live like we do. We're weird, and I completely get that. I joke openly with family and friends about it! But those who don't know me well, don't see those times and the times we openly and readily tease ourselves.

As a wise young man once said, I want to "Spread Life". Spread love, acceptance and grace ever flowing. Like the grace I (THANK GOODNESS) receive, despite my moutain-sized faults. I want to focus on things eternal and build up that which is on a rock and that which will lead people to the One who can save. If I raise up an arm to shake a fist, it will be for all the glory to God, and none to myself.

There are children who need feeding in my city and in countries far from home. Little ones who die alone because they don't have a soul in the world to care for them. I've joined a deeply respected friend in her work with a very special family in Uganda. I've heard stories of friends who have young boys who might not make it. Life is short. Life is sacred. And so, how should I spend my time? What brings glory to Him? How should my heart be shaped? Where should my gaze fall? Should I be researching and critisizing pop culture? Or should I be throwing myself in God's word and finding ways to Spread Life and care for others? I already know the answer - because it's screaming loud in my soul.

And everything in moderation, sure. And truth is important, I know, I know. And I want to write truth and spread awareness about certain issues close to my heart and the heart of God. I believe I've been called to this in some ways. But I lack wisdom far to often. Or, always, actually. I think exposing Halloween and Twilight, and some specific topics is part of my passion for writing here. But I must look deep within and always know the motivation behind my posts. And always seek to be inclusive and extend love through these little key taps.

For those of you I've ever hurt or offended, I am sincerely sorry. For those who read this blog and learn and grow, praise God. It's unreal that He could ever use me. And for all the in betweens - please know - I'm a work in progress. SO in progress. So, some things are going to change around this blog (I've already deleted 12 posts) while I seek guidance and pray hard about God's purpose and direction for this small, humbled girl.

There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in

Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit.

Romans 8:1

AMEN!!! Thank you, Jesus.

Linked in @ A Holy Experience

Autumn Stream Racing...

2011-10-25T10:53:00.000-07:00

Here's an idea for a fun and easy Science, Nature Study Activity. Why not make some easy boats, head to the stream or creek, and spend time enjoying nature while racing little floaters?

Making Boats

We used a simple plastic lid, a straw, play-dough, and a piece of paper for a sail. It was incredibly easy to make. I'll admit though, our children took the sails and play-dough off as soon as they were racing their boats, as the sails were making the boats tip. Fun to build together, but not incredibly productive for fast sailing, as Simon quickly figured out.

Have fun creating your own canals and channels to race the boats. Children learn about water flow and dams while working to move the water flow in the direction they desire it to go.

Constructing the canal, making the flow FASTER...

The Race is On!

Educational Application:
Critical thinking skills, manual dexterity, balance, creativity, understanding natural water flow and how to direct a body of water's flow, movement of objects of various sizes and weights, concentration skills, healthy competition!

Autumn Stream Stoll (Nature Study)

2011-10-25T06:33:00.000-07:00

Autumn is such a beautiful time of year for Nature Study, I can't seem to even fit enough in. In the past few weeks, we've spent as much time out of doors as possible, breathing in the glory of God's painted earth.

Our favorite place to be all Spring and Summer is the creek/stream that runs for several kilometers five minutes from our home. The Autumn leaves bring the creek to life in a way unimaginable. The shining radiance of brilliant light splashing against glittering waters...

Observation Skills in Practice, ASK:

How many colors can we find?
How many shapes of leaves are in this pile?
What is the most beautiful thing you see?
Look how the leaves are blocking the water and creating tiny dams everywhere...
Let's search for a leaf we've never seen before...
Where are all the toads?
Can we still find a frog? (And we did...)
What is different now, compared to the stream in the Summer?

Literary Studies - Madeline (Five in a Row)

2011-10-19T20:26:00.000-07:00

Madeline was our introduction to Five in a Row, and now, I'm hooked. Our children absolutely adored studying this classic book. Funny how things work out, when I assume in my mind they 'won't like it', they surprise me and embrace instead. I've probably read Madeline at least 20 times over the past few weeks, so luckily, I adore this story as well.

The story is old - written over 60 years ago, but just as endearing today as it has been for decades. Just like many classics, they touch the very heart and soul with a timeless beauty that is unparalleled by much of today's fiction. I'd consider this book poetry more-so than fiction, however. Maybe that's why we love it so much - we're poetry fanatics in our home.

Ideas for Studying Madeline
(Only some of these ideas and applications were inspired from Five in a Row, Volume 1. This is a study geared for 5-8 year old children, our children are 3, 4, and 6. I have not included much of what we did directly from the book due to copyright and my respect for the author. If you love how this looks, I highly recommend using FIAR in your home!)

Memorization and Narration-

Our children memorized nearly the entire book simple through the repetitive reading I did. (They begged me to read this over and over!) Madeline is very poetic (as mentioned above) and is packed full of rhyme and repetition, making it a fairly easy piece to use to memorization. I used simple narration techniques to ensure they were understanding the story as we read.
Hymn - "What a Friend we Have in Jesus"

Art and Music -

We printed countless free coloring sheets based on Madeline, which I know is maybe cheating, but our daughter (especially) absolutely loved coloring them.
I also taught myself how to sketch simple Madeline pictures for our children to color. We did this on huge pieces of rolled paper. You can see in the photo beside this text, we also included specific places and labelled them accordingly, which helped reinforce the Geographical work we were doing.
We discussed the use of impressionism, how to know if a painting is impressionistic, and what other artists use impressionism.
You may choose to play traditional French music of the time for your children. You could also pick a French composer and listen to his or her music.

History -

France and the lives of children in Europe in the 1930s and 40s. What did it mean to be an orphan? Where did orphans live and why?

Geography -

Where is France? Used a world map to locate France, then a map of Europe, then a map of France to local Paris, where the story takes place.
What does their flag look like? We printed off flags and also drew and colored many of our own.
The Eiffel Tower and various other famous French buildings and locations were studied, especially through the use of our "Tour de France" booklets from Homeschool Share.

Math -

We studied symmetry, with regard to the illustrations in the book. This included counting and sorting.

Other Themes Covered...

Architecture -

We looked closely at the architecture found in the buildings of Paris and throughout France, especially in that time period. We sketched them and colored them while also comparing the impressionism found in the book.
We went on a "Town Tour", which was by far the most enjoyable experience of this entire study for our family. We strolled for four hours around our small town, which luckily, is FULL of rich, beautiful old architecture. The children were armed with a digital camera and I encouraged them to take pictures of buildings that reminded them of the architecture found in Madeline. They also took it upon themselves to photograph as many houses "covered in vines" as they could. It was a beautiful, enriching experience.
We then created our "Town Tour" scrapbooks and added them to our Lapbooks.

A peek inside our "Town Tour" scrapbooks. Homes covered in vines, and early 20th Century Architecture.

Madeline Lapbooks

We always learn a ton and really enjoy putting together Lapbooks. They are a great way to compile much of your experiences or studies on a particular topic, or in this case, book.

Our Madeline Lap Books included: our Town Tour scrapbook, our Tour de France mini-book, a pocket filled with 12 pictures of the little girls, Symmetry Cards (math), Vocabulary words, and various drawings, colorings, maps, etc. Lap books can be done in any way you wish, these are purely an example of what our children chose to do with theirs.

Video:

There are so many other ideas and studies that can be pulled out of this beautiful piece of classic literature. More ideas to implement the Five in a Row concepts can be found in the Madeline section at Homeschool Share.

In the Spirit of Sharing,

Cassandra

Why we don't 'do' Halloween.

2011-10-13T20:53:00.000-07:00

Every year, I look forward to the Harvest season. The apples, the pumpkins, the gourds, leaves changing and falling, Thanksgiving, crisp, cool days for walking along a painted path, the 'new' feeling that comes with September and the following months. It's all so wonderful - likely my favorite time of year.

And then, there's Halloween. I've actually had requests to write a post on the topic of Halloween - so I'm writing this. But I'm doing so with a bit of reluctance, as I know our family stands with only a small few in our stance against Halloween. (Wow, us? There's a shocker. Ha.)

I find it interesting that Halloween is one of the biggest holidays of the year, and yet, very few people know its origins, why we celebrate, and what the day actually acknowledges and glorifies.

The Origins of Halloween (in a nut-shell)

The celebration of what we know today as Halloween can be traced way back to the 700s (and earlier), to the practices of the ancient Druids. The Druids were a highly educated or 'priestly' class of the Celts of the time. The Celts worshiped many gods, including, the sun god on Beltane (May 1), and the lord of the dead on Samhain (October 31).

It was (and is) believed that on October 31st, "the lord of the dead would gather all the souls of the evil dead who had been condemned to enter the bodies of animals. He then decided what animal form they would take for the next year. (The souls of the good dead were reincarnated as humans.) The Druids also believed that the punishment of the evil dead could be lightened by sacrifices, prayers, and gifts to Samhain (the god of the dead)."*

It was taught that evil spirits roamed the earth on this night and the people had many practices to scare them away. They would light huge fires, dress in grotesque masks and costumes, and make both animal and human (usually infant) sacrifices in hopes of appeasing the gods and keeping their families safe. Sacrifices like these are still made today in many Pagan circles, although it is seldom talked about or revealed.

What about 'Trick or Treating'?

One possible origin for 'Trick of Treating' is the idea that many witches traveled villages stealing goods for their Halloween celebrations and festivals. It is also true that many ancient pagans would beg for and steal items for their great fires (which included sacrifices to the god of the dead). The Druids knew this day was sacred day for Pagans, Wiccans, and Witches alike, which still holds true for modern day pagans.

The idea of 'Trick or Treating' is also related to ghosts of the dead in pagan and even Catholic history. Among the ancient Druids, the ghosts that were believed to haunt people's homes on Halloween night were met with a banquet table full of 'treats' to satisfy them. At the end of their 'feast', masked and costumed villagers would represent the souls of the dead, and paraded the town, leading the real ghosts and spirits away from their homes.

Another connection to the practice of trick-or-treating is to the evil spirits who roamed the night, playing tricks on the living.

When children "Trick or Treat", they are taking part in the playing out of a very real Pagan belief. Evil spirits roamed the villages, going from house to house - if they were not appeased by 'treats' and sacrifices, they would haunt and torment the living. When people offer treats to the children, they are acting out the tradition of offering sacrifices to evil spirits, or, Satan.

What about dressing up on Halloween?

Along with many of the reasons listed above, Halloween costumes also originated from a time when costumes were used to hide one's attendance at pagan festivals or to change the personality of a person to allow for better communication with the Spirit world. The Celtic Druids also wore large animal heads at rituals, in an attempt to pull energy sources out of that particular animal. Costumes are most largely used in Halloween tradition to either ward off evil spirits, blend in with evil spirits, or appease evil spirits.

What about Jack-o-Lanterns?

There are a few theories about the origins of the Jack-o-Lantern. The first is that the idea stemmed from the tradition of Witches using skulls with candles in them to light the way to their coven meetings. Another is the Irish legend of "Irish Jack", a stingy drunk who tricked the devil into climbing a tree for an apple, but then carved the sign of the cross in the trunk to stop the devil from climbing back down. Jack then forced Satan to promise never to come after his soul, to which the devil reluctantly agreed. When Jack died, he was turned away at the gates of Heaven and was sent to the devil, who also rejected him. Jack was then condemned to wander the earth. As he was leaving hell, Satan pitched a piece of burning coal at him. Jack put the coal inside a turnip and was forced to forever roam with no resting place, holding only his 'Jack o' lantern' for light. The turnip was eventually traded for a pumpkin, and there you have the legend, passed down through generations.

Why we don't 'do' Halloween...

Many people (including a whole lot of Christians) will argue that Halloween is "no big deal". They feel that by completely rejecting the holiday and refusing to celebrate it in any way, our family is being 'over the top' - reading too much into it, over-reacting. For us, the question lies in, "who does this holiday glorify?". The roots of Halloween are wickedly pagan, the past and present-day associations are directly connected to Satanism.

But, if that's not enough reason, we can look directly at the premise of Halloween. This is a greed-based holiday where children parade around, mimicking evil practices and beliefs. Halloween is the SINGLE most important day to many people in groups linked straight to the devil. We need to wake up.

I have given only a sampling of the truth behind the origins and present-day practices of and on Halloween. If you take time to do further research, there is no doubt that this holiday is incredibly evil. For us, it is vital we weigh Halloween with great care. Our family's spiritual health is incredibly important. In fact, it is everything. Our faith in Christ is what makes us who we are. He is our guide. He is the Light for our path, just like so many followers of Jesus.

Friends - if you are a follower of Christ, you need to be closely examining your involvement with this highly Satanic celebration. By celebrating Halloween, I believe we are mimicking evil practices, giving credence to (honoring) the most important day in the world of Satanism, and we are exposing our children directly to spiritual darkness. If this topic is confusing to you, I suggest getting in God's word and praying strongly that God would give you wisdom and clarity about Halloween.

Some scripture to consider:

"Hate what is evil; cling to what is good." Romans 12:9

"Avoid every kind of evil." 1 Thes. 5:22

"Do not imitate what is evil." 3 John 11

"Live as children of light (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) and find out what pleases the Lord. Have nothing to do with the fruitless deed of darkness, but rather expose them..." (Eph. 5:8-11)

Should your family participate in Halloween?
To help, here are 12 very good, straight-forward points to consider.
Taken from"The Facts on Halloween"

1. It is the most sacred day of many religions that are connected with evil spirits and Satan.
2. It was and is believed to be the day of the year on which the devil's help could especially be invoked for a variety of things; it remains a special day to Satanists.
3. Human sacrifice of children and adults has often been practiced on this day.
4. It has and will continue to encourage non-Christian spiritual activity on the part of both children and adults. Halloween is growing in popularity and decadence.
5. It is a special day to call on spirits through various spiritual practices that are often promoted as innocent and fun. For example, children try out a Ouija board or participate in seances.
6. It is a day historically known for divination.
7. It helps support pagan philosophies and practices such as reincarnation, animism, shamanism, and Druidism.
8. It is of help to the practices and beliefs of mediums and psychic researchers by encouraging people's interest in things such as ghosts and poltergeists.
9. It can unequally yoke Christians and pagans (see 2 Cor. 6:14).
10. It is likely that no Halloween activity or symbol can be found that does not go back to a non-Christian religious source.
11. Christian participation in Halloween can in many ways be dishonoring to God.
12. "Everything that does not come from faith is sin" (Romans 14:23).

I pray every person who reads this post will measure it with the Word of God and the convictions in their own hearts. (hugs) Cassandra

Linked in:
The MOB Society
Raising Homemakers

*Small excerpt taken from "The Facts on Halloween" by J. Ankerberg, J. Weldon, and D. Burroughs

Insightful Videos about Education: What school says is 'useful'.

2011-09-28T20:11:00.000-07:00

Insightful Videos about Education: Sir Ken Robinson on Creativity, Changing the 'System' of School, and more...

2011-09-28T19:52:00.000-07:00

Incredibly inspirational, assuring, and eye-opening thoughts on education, the current system of public school and how it is affecting children and our future.

The Stranger in my Living Room - The Better Mom feature

2011-09-26T06:16:00.000-07:00

But there was a dark side to the Stranger. The Stranger showed my family violence; angry murders, terrible crimes. He screamed profanities often and displayed lust, sexual situations, and glorified and perpetuated greed and materialism. The Stranger desired to tell our children they’re not good enough and manipulate them into buying more ‘stuff’ to measure up. The Stranger mostly supported anti-Christ, anti-moral messages that sank way down deep in the fabric of culture. He sucked my time and energy, shut down my brain, and suggested how I live my life – all while I sit idly by, staring, unable to pull my eyes from him. Yet, there he sat.

Until I kicked him out with a passionate boot only a pregnant Mama with a serious waddle could achieve. Yes, the Stranger in the Living Room was the Television.

Our family has been completely TV-free for almost 7 years. Our home actually has no screens at all on a day-to-day basis. We do have computers, but we hide them away and bring them out only when we need them. My husband and I were both raised in, what I like to call, heavy-use families. (grin) Both our childhood homes had more than 3 TVs each, so, it’s been quite the change for us. I was once on the Drew Marshall radio show talking about my choice to go completely TV-free (I was in my early 20s at the time). Since I’d studied Media all through high school and then gone on to College and graduated with a diploma in Media Communications and Television Production, he laughed and said my entire life was one big Oxymoron. I kind of like it.
When our children were very young, my husband and I did a sort of inventory about many things in our lives.

We asked what we were gaining from Television and what we were forfeiting. As I clicked through the channels one afternoon, I realized how many programs I was either scared of, disagreed with, or felt upset by in some way. I also started looking for programs that I wouldn’t want my children seeing. What I found was over-whelming! Sure, there are a few ‘cute’ shows, but the good ones came with an onslaught of horrible content.

Our top reasons for tossing the TV are listed here. They focus mostly on things like, more time for God and family, keeping negative influences out of our home, and pushing advertising and consumption further from our lives. We also wanted to commit to being more active, spending loads of time outdoors, forming deeper bonds with each other, and keeping our minds active and curious- always seeking ‘the next adventure’. After all, TV does put the brain in a trance-like, hypnotic state, shutting down critical thinking, especially in children. Have you ever noticed the glazed-over expression? It’s no joke.

Once you go TV-free, you can never go back. You don’t miss the screen. You feel liberated in many ways. You start looking at the world differently. You find other things to do in those quiet times (if they come!)… you go for a walk, you play a game, you talk, you read, you study, you organize, you write ideas in your notebook for your next blog post. (ha)

I know most (99% according to stats) people in North America have at least one TV in their homes. I would never criticize a parent for it – ha, I’d lose a lot of friends! Television seems to be a ‘necessary’ evil in the minds of so many people. Like that Stranger in the Living Room. It’s there because it’s always been there, even though so many of us don’t always like it – it remains, out of habit. My passion as a Media Educator isn’t to tell people how to live. (Who am I?) But I do feel incredibly motivated to share the change we’ve seen in our own family as we’ve unplugged more and more.
So, I humbly suggest to other loving parents that they simply question it. Consider it. Ask what they are gaining from having a Television when it comes to their goals for their family’s spiritual, intellectual, emotional, and physical health. Consider what life might look like without it. Maybe even discuss it as a family. Why not even try a week or two without TV? You might be surprised at what you find.