The Darkness has Not Overcome

Fear is sneaky.

Most days, especially when the sun is shining, I can function normally and leave the rest to God.

But then there are the times when the days have been gloomy and the girls have been testy and night falls and I'm left feeling like the locomotive of COVID-19 is barreling down the tracks toward my family and it's only a matter of time til it hits and all I can do is hunker down and wait.

On one such night last week, I actually did something right about my emotions. I talked to my husband (who's been a voice of calm in the insanity of the last few weeks) and then went up to bed and opened my Bible.

(I'm working my way through "The Story," an adaptation of the NIV that presents the words of Scripture, while in selections, as one continuous story. Reading it is much like reading any other book, with breaks for chapters rather than separate books with chapters and verses. While there are brief editorial breaks to explain themes or summarize missing sections, it's largely simply the Biblical text, and it's been a nice way for me to get a new perspective on passages that otherwise have become rote.)

I opened to my bookmark, and this is the first thing that met my eyes.

That's where the stirring of the Holy Spirit stopped me, and what I believe He impressed on my heart was exactly what I needed at that moment. I'd like to share it with you, in the hope that you may be encouraged, too. It's maybe not completely cohesive, but hopefully it's coherent!

In the beginning - As God was speaking planets and molecules into existence, He already knew that the year AD 2020 would find a pandemic sweeping the globe.

He knew it all: the beginning of COVID-19 in China; Italy's anguish; that hospitals would be unprepared; the steady creep of the disease from our continent's coasts toward its interior. He already knew every detail of what was coming, including the ones we don't know yet.

He isn't surprised; He isn't less good; He isn't less in control.

the Word - Jesus, "the Word," is the sum total of God's message to humanity. He's the culmination of everything God had said before the New Testament, everything God has promised to say to His people, and everything God is ever going to say. Think of it! All this embodied in one 33-year life on planet Earth. (Spoiler alert: His life and teaching still have ramifications for us today!)

Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. - Seventh grade science tells us humans are made when an egg and sperm fuse to become a zygote. This mono-cellular carrier of a complete genetic code has all the information necessary to bring into being a fully functioning adult man or woman.

John, the writer of the above passage, tells us that it is actually an egg, a sperm, and God who make each person (although maybe not in that order...).

Psalms says God knitted my children together within my womb.

This is an issue of personal workmanship!

If I take pains that the frisky cat not claw up the afghan I crocheted - if I delight in the art and craftsmanship of my hand and my husband's and our friends' - if I hang these things on my walls and store them gently when they're not on display - how much more does my God care for the two miraculous lives He designed, built, and brought to life? We're not guaranteed a pass on suffering or even on infection, but He knows. He understands. My fear, my attempt to trust, my weakness in the face of the unknown, all of it.

And He loves my daughters more fiercely even than their mommy and daddy do, and He will work all things to good. They are safe in the hands that made them. (And while I still pray that my husband and I will be allowed to raise our children to adulthood, I also thank God for allowing us to raise them this day.)

life/light - In this time of disease, we understand our need for life much like we understand our need for light only when in a dark room in the middle of a power outage. Jesus possessed the life that was the light of all mankind.

And we killed it.

The darkness in you and the darkness in me rose up and extinguished Him. (We spend a lot of time talking about the good in everyone, but why would we put so much effort into proclaiming our goodness if there wasn't actually darkness - sin - there, too?)

He was dead.

Gone.
Kaput.
Laid in a grave.

(Have you been to a funeral? Looked in a casket? Seen it prepared to be lowered into the ground? How many of those people do you see walking down the sidewalk a week or two later?)

And for two days, it looked like the darkness had overcome.

But.

But then?

Then came Easter morning.

Please Stop Practicing Fear

COVID-19 is running rampant through our society, and it hasn't even made very many people sick yet.

Colleges are going online. Businesses are shutting corporate offices. The Army is closing bases to visitors. I even got an email from a grocery store regarding what they're doing to keep their customers safe! Solid facts seem hard to come by, as tables and charts show how much worse influenza is than coronavirus currently, yet predictions from the CDC are grim.

How do we respond? No one wants to be taken in by the boy who cried “wolf!”, but neither is it wise to disregard everything entirely.

Let's remember that God has not given us a spirit of fear (2 Timothy 1:7a).

So if our fear is not from God, where did it come from?

Consider this seriously. Whoever planted that fear did so for a reason. He/she/it/they wanted us to react from fear. We're effectively being controlled by this source without even realizing it!

If this fear is not from God, maybe we need to consider the benefits of giving it the proverbial boot. Let's stop practicing being afraid. Let's stop training fear into our children. Let's stop making decisions motivated by fear.

So what should we do, if anything? Consider what God HAS given us: a spirit of power and love and a sound mind (2 Timothy 1:7b).

Let's tackle these in reverse order.

• Wash your hands. Shouldn't it seem strange to us all that this seems like a such a revolutionary concept to everyone? We've known about germs since the 1860's. That's 160 years! Of course, wash your hands, but haven't you been doing that already?
• Reduce or eliminate junk food in your diet. Sugar makes it harder for your body to fight disease. (Include pop in this category, of course, but also sports drinks – if you haven't just exercised – and fruit drinks, too.)
• Eat foods that grew from the ground or had a mother, as Jillian Michaels says. The less processing that happens in between the source and you, the better. Your body needs nutrients and minerals to function well, not to mention defeat disease. (If your diet is deficient in a certain way, consider supplements. For example, fish oil for diets low in sea food, or vitamin D3 during a Minnesota winter.)
• Drink water. Half your weight in ounces is one recommendation. (Are you bored yet?)
• Exercise. Get that body working the way God intended it!

These are “sound mind” principles. They're things that make sense, that the more health conscious among us probably already do anyway.

What about love?

• Love your neighbor by covering that cough.
• Stay home when you're sick.
• Speak/post/send words of encouragement grounded in truth rather than feeding the fear.

And power?

• Pray for your family, your community, those at high risk, those who've contracted coronavirus, the medical providers caring for them, and the family of those who have died from it.
• Consider your plans with discernment, and then live your life.

What power there is in not harboring fear!

Before I close, I would like to urge us all to slow down, stop allowing knee-jerk reactions. Stop spreading the fear. Consider your actions thoughtfully, and make well-informed decisions. This is not the first terror to come to our fair shores – nor will it be the last (think of anthrax, West Nile, ebola, SARS, to name a few from recent history). Are we going to panic every time there's a new version? Aren't we tired of running around screaming, “The sky is falling!”?

Statistics are in: 100% of people die. No one gets off this planet alive. So are we going to spend our time stressing and over-analyzing every sniffle, or are we going to live as the dignified, respectable, courageous citizens of the United States of America that we are?

John 14:27 "Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give to you. Let not your hearts be troubled, neither let them be afraid." (ESV)

Philippians 4:5-7 "Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." (ESV)

Eve and Me

Eve gets a bad rap.

Centuries of church tradition lay a heavy portion of the blame for the first sin at the feet of the first woman.

I always thought that was a little rough. After all, where was Adam? Shirking his duty? Watching passively? Going along to get along?

A few years of marriage, however, have caused me to reevaluate my position.

I think Adam was a fairly ordinary guy (apart from the whole firstfruit-from-God's-hand thing).
A gentle man (the original gentleman!).
Content in the world God gave him.
Blissfully happy with this "woman" creature - one like him, yet so unlike.
Enjoying a happy life.
A nice guy.

Maybe something like my own husband (on a really good day. This is Eden we're talking about, after all!).

Consider the dynamics of your marriage. You know, and I know, that if there is something that we really, really want, there are ways to get it. When we set our heart on something, we could probably get our way over just about anything (whether or not it's good for us) given enough time and persistence. I don't have to tell you the tricks to wear down a husband's resolve. I don't have to list the arsenal we have at our disposal - seemingly since birth! - to influence the man next to us. It is positively frightening when you think about just how much sway we hold. Think of the line from "My Big, Fat, Greek Wedding": "The man may be the head, but the woman is the neck that turns the head!"

We can return, triumphant from the fray, with his "agreement," but as discerning women, we have to be aware of the cost of our "victory."

I've seen it. I've felt it. In my own marriage, primarily. In others' relationships, some.

Think about it. What happens when you've pushed and prodded and begged and huffed and cried and given the silent treatment?

Either he holds to his guns and keeps saying no, or he gives in and says yes.

What anguish of spirit there is in a man who desperately loves his woman and desires little more in this world than to please her, yet who cannot, in good conscience, give his wife the one thing she asks! Let's face it: most men like to please their wives. They don't go looking for ways to frustrate us or foil our goals. So when a godly man has reservations about a scheme that is a pet of his wife, it takes some serious mettle for him to hold his ground, even to the grief of his own heart. Then, we're angry, he's dejected, and we think we've both lost. If he would just give in already, we want to scream, then I would have what I want and things would be good again!

So what if he says yes?

If he really feels that to give me something would be wrong, and he says so, and I then corner him long enough that he caves, I get what I want! That was the goal, after all, wasn't it? To get the object of my desire?

A mere five and a half years of marriage have taught me to fear this outcome more than the abandonment of the object of my desire. Why? Because of what it does to my man and our relationship.

When I ask P for something that he feels he cannot, for the good of our family, our marriage, my own good, whatever, give me, he may attempt to tell me "no." If, after I pitch a fit, I get him to cave, I can see his spirit deflate.

He has set out to protect me, and he has failed.
He had desired to do the best thing, and he caved.
He was going to stand, but he's crushed.

His very manhood takes a hit, and unless I wise up quickly and repent, there will be lasting repercussions for his willingness to lead, my relationship with him, and his relationship with God.

Think of Adam: he goes from walking with God, for goodness's sake, to hiding in the bushes with shame.

We have that power, ladies!

You are a driving force in your husband/fiance/boyfriend/brother's life! You can be a source of anguish and shame for him, or you can build him up into the man you envisioned when you chose him to walk through life with you.

Don't think I'm letting Adam off the hook completely. He had some heart issues that caused him to go along with Eve's desires rather than God's. But I'm not writing to our men. I'm writing to us, ladies! Adam's short-comings don't hold the message for us today.

Oh, my sister, be very careful what you ask of your man!

And if, as you read this, you feel the stirrings of the Holy Spirit in you, listen closely.
You may be thinking of the way you've "won," but things haven't been the same between the two of you since.
You may be in the middle of an argument right now, and you can't believe he's being so stubborn about it.
You may be feeling vaguely guilty over the manipulative habits you've allowed yourself to indulge for years.
Don't wait another moment to make things right.

Give up that thing that you've elevated to a higher place than your spouse, your marriage, and the good of your family.
Repent.
Go, and be reconciled.

It's not too late.
But go now.

Don't wait til you're in a pickle like Esau: "when he desired to inherit the blessing, he was rejected, for he found no chance to repent, though he sought it with tears" (Hebrews 12:17 ESV). But rather, "now is the favorable time; behold, now is the day of salvation" (2 Corinthians 6:2).

Run - run! - toward forgiveness and blessing.

Clocks, Cursive, and Dinosaurs

I came across an interesting Facebook post a while back. Someone was lauding a decision by a British school to no longer teach children to read analog clocks. He compared it to American public schools removing cursive from their curriculum and celebrated both decisions as education removing archaic burdens that no longer have a place in our technological century. I disagreed, but looking at the comments, realized that it had become a collection of long arguments. I wasn't about to engage in that, since I was primarily on Facebook for 3 minutes of entertainment and not to enter into a debate with adults subtly calling each other dumb. Besides, I hadn't fully formulated my reasons for disagreeing with the person's conclusions. (Plus, Facebook is a poor forum for debate or objective analysis . . .)

A week or more later though, I was having trouble falling back to sleep after a nighttime feeding for Baby, and I found my mind cycling through the cons to the school's decision. That's when I realized that I did care.

First, I decided, it's hard to call any morally-neutral learning useless.

One fairly well-known analogy for understanding the brain is the brain as a muscle. Researchers have seen it light up on scans when learning occurs, and we know that new learning prepares it for more learning. Memorization, new skills, new knowledge, aid in brain plasticity, which creates a healthy brain environment. Seriously, if people can make an argument for learning Latin, a dead language, surely knowing how to read a clock face - something that is still present in nearly every life setting - could be a good life skill. (Yes, practically everyone has a cell phone in their pocket now to aid them should they not be able to read the time, but do we really want our children to be MORE dependent on their phones?)

We also know that skills we learn when younger stay with us longer and integrate into a level of naturalness better than those learned later in life. Examples from my life of things I learned early and used often: tying shoes, playing piano, writing papers, cooking, cleaning, typing, and gardening. On the other hand, later in my life, I've attempted to learn to play the guitar, speak Spanish, write in italics, and format a paper in the APA style, with varying degrees of success. I can adapt the first list to my needs now, even if they're not used strictly in the exact nature in which it was taught (I don't write papers anymore, I blog; I don't often sit at a computer and type, but I'm familiar with the keyboard on my phone screen for texting; I don't always wear shoes with laces, but I can make a lovely bow when decorating gifts or craft projects). The things I wasn't taught when I was young aren't available to me in the same enriching way. Just because the application of a skill (like writing in cursive or reading an analog clock) may be elusive, it doesn't mean we need to send it the way of the dinosaurs.

Secondly, kids don't need a dumbed-down environment; they need a healthy one.

When I say this, I don't mean Lysol wipes and rubber mats. (Did you know that there is a recent trend to make playgrounds less "safe"?) Even the church has fallen prey to this one. Sunday school and youth group is plagued by curriculum filled with bite-sized theology. We pull kids out of the large group in the church service and send them off to children's church. (If you think I'm getting away from the morally-neutral premise of the first point, I'm not. How are kids going to learn to sit and pay attention in a world of sound bites and flashing screens if we don't ask it of them? How are they going to see themselves as part of a whole culture if they're only ever sequestered with those of their own age group? How are they going to learn to value other perspectives if they are only given one? How are they going to understand where they came from if they never interact with those who have gone before? How are they going to get good at thinking about things if we do all their thinking for them?)

No, what kids need is someplace they won't be preyed upon because they're weaker, where manners and how to apologize are modeled, where they know they're loved enough that it's ok to make mistakes and maybe even (gasp!) fail. They need someone who requires them to persevere in the face of obstacles. They need encouragement to do things that are hard at first.

If schools aren't going to be a place like that, maybe our kids shouldn't be there.

Life & Death

Proverbs 31:8
"Open your mouth for the mute, for the rights of all who are destitute." ESV
"Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves; defend the rights of all those who have nothing." NCV
"Speak out for those who cannot speak, for the rights of all the destitute." NRSV
"Open your mouth for the speechless, in the cause of all who are appointed to die." NKJV

I've avoided my Facebook newsfeed over the last week or so. With a new baby staring up at me and postnatal hormones washing over me, it's too heart-wrenching to read over and over the implications of New York's new abortion law. Then, yesterday, I read Proverbs 31, although I really only got as far as verse 8.

How do we speak out for the unborn half a continent away? Even in a democratic republic like ours, it's hard to know what to do.

Do we rant on Facebook? Sign petitions? Write blog posts? Get out to vote in the next election?

Do Facebook posts change anyone's mind? Can a list of names really sway a politician over such an agenda-driven piece of legislation? What can another piece of cyber writing do that all the ones before it haven't? What good will my future vote here do for the babies who are dying today over there?

Maybe there's another way to open our mouths.

We can mourn.
We can be broken over the wickedness in our land.
We can grieve, privately and corporately.
We can, like Nehemiah, confess our people's sin.
We can ask God's intervention for the lives of the babies, yes, but also for the women and even the men who will be destroyed by one decision.
We can pray against the deceit of the enemy in the halls of capitol buildings as well as in the consultation rooms of abortion providers.
We can gather with other believers to pray for our children and for the children of our nation. (Any takers?)

We can live lives that value life.
We can reach out to the poor and homeless.
We can support the single mom or dad near us.
We can foster and adopt.
We can be patient with the mom ahead of us in the checkout line whose toddler begins to melt down.
We can teach our children of the intrinsic value of every single human being.
We can love the special needs individual.
We can adopt a zero-tolerance policy for bullying behavior or belittling words, spoken or typed.
We can make it our business to encourage the people we come into contact with each day.
We can be courteous to the fast food worker behind the counter and to the customer service rep on the phone.
We can care for the elderly neighbor.
We can take time for family dinner.

Because this isn't just about life in the womb. This is about life in all its forms. This is about fighting tooth and nail against the devil who "comes only to steal and kill and destroy" (John 10:10 ESV). (Heaven help us if this is what it takes for the American Church to realize that... Heaven help us if the American Church doesn't realize it after this.)

This is about the kind of life that only Christ gives and only Christians can offer to a dying world - abundant life.

Faith & Courage

Eight days ago, faith and courage met, and my world changed.

But it wasn't purely MY faith and courage. At times, my faith was fear and courage had fled; it was then that the faith and courage of others carried the transformation.

The world change?
The birth of my second daughter.

"The second time is easier," they say. "The second time is shorter," they [nearly] promise.

My second time was harder, and it was actually the same length as the first.

There were times I wanted to quit; those around me (literally) held me up.
There were times I didn't think I could finish; they cheered me on.

So much of life is a marathon - harder and longer and more discouraging than we thought it would be.

It's in those times that we ride the wings of the faith and courage of those around us.

That is, if those around us have faith and courage.

Who surrounds you today?

A Job Done

Back in March, I posted about my desire to put together a meal for the carnival workers that staff the midway for our town festival, to thank them for their work and welcome them to our town. (If you haven't read that one, this one will make more sense if you read the March one first.) On the 12th of this month, that desire became reality.

Actually, toward the end of June, I started getting nervous. I had only heard back from one church, and the response from the newspaper notice was . . . insufficient. Donations came in generously, but as far as putting a meal together . . . I was starting to wonder if this whole thing was going to work.

So, back to Facebook I trotted. Created an event. Invited anyone in my friends circle from the area. Waited some more.

And the responses started coming!

The first one I got was from another young mom. We had only met recently, but we ran into each other again at the kiddie pool. She was going to bring a fruit salad and a dessert! I left the pool on a high.

The next few days included some follow-up and some more positive responses. Enough came in that the ones who couldn't come didn't make me nervous anymore.

This was actually going to happen!

The day of, my dear mother and my 91-year-old grandmother came to help N and me with finishing touches. The first thing we had to do was invite our guests of honor! We drove down to the park, printed invitations in hand, piled out of the car, and went in search of our carnival workers. We didn't have to look far.

We found some taking a break near the picnic shelter and handed out invites. Chatted with a middle-aged mom. Met her daughters. My mom reconnected with someone she actually knew who happened to be working the carnival this summer (leave it to Mom to find someone she knows!). Got directions to their trailers. Dropped off some more invites, tucking them under door handles when no one was around. Found a few workers for Mom to practice her Spanish inviting them.

I was a little nervous. I've never met someone who works the carnival circuit before, never had to carry a conversation with them. I hated that an unfamiliar, stereotyped vocation made me protective, suspicious, wary. But the more we talked, the more at ease I felt.

Having successfully dispersed invitations, both paper and word-of-mouth, we headed back for the house. We organized the gifts, finished baking a few dishes, loaded up two cars, and headed back to the park. Unloaded. Shuffled picnic tables at the shelter. Set up the gift area, the serving line, the drinks.

And people started to come!

We had three tables full of salads, main dishes, and desserts: from veggies and mac salad, to spaghetti and smoked pork loin, to chocolate peanut butter brownies and lemon meringue pie! Yummmmm . . .

The workers filtered in, we prayed, and started eating. A neighbor of mine, and an elder at a local church, had agreed to share a devotion, so while we fed our stomachs, he fed souls. He spoke about God sharing our joys, and he thanked the workers for the joy their work brings to us and our kids. He spoke Truth winsomely.

Some of the workers were open to conversation; others huddled together. The language barrier definitely created some, if not most, of that distance.

We found that these were moms and dads, families and individuals like us, just with an entirely disparate way of supporting themselves. Some had grown up in the carnival world - it was as normal to them as a home and an address are to us. One mom asked me if I could recommend someone to watch her one-year-old daughter while the midway operated - she worked a booth and her husband worked a ride. She wanted "a church lady, because there are weird people these days, and I would feel better if it were someone from a church." I turned to ask a friend, one with four kids of her own, and just that easily, we had her answer.

Conversations over delicious food

When no one could eat anymore, we loaded up everyone with the left-overs and with any of the gifts they wanted. Bath towels turned out to be in high demand, and I was excited that a couple Spanish translations of the Bible were taken. Many, many thank-yous were heard.

Picking through the gifts

When everyone had left, Mom and I tucked N and Grandma into the car with the AC running and finished the cleanup. We loaded everything for the last time, drove the half mile home, unloaded, put N down for a very late nap, washed, organized, put away. Took a cold shower.

I collapsed into an easy chair as Mom and Grandma went out the front door. Finished! Exhausted.

Deep breath . . .

And then N woke up.

"I Had No Idea"

We've all had those life experiences we look back upon and say, "I had no clue what I was getting into."

Two-year-olds (like N this morning) may learn that Mom and Dad tell them not to touch an electrical outlet for a reason.

Middle school kids often find that friendship drama is more than they bargained for.

A teen may find college harder to navigate, more work, or even more enjoyable, than they thought going into the experience.

Adults have their own versions of being irreversibly over their heads: a new job, owning a home, marriage, parenting. And it seems, no matter what sort of measures we take to be prepared going into it, there are just some things in life you have to experience to really grasp what it's like.

And then, of course, there are the life events we hardly comprehend to prepare ourselves for.

Our two-year-old is coming up on one such event, and try as we might to prepare her, she honestly has no idea what's in store for her. But, she'll figure it out sometime in January.

All In

If I thought I didn't post very often before a child landed smack-dab in the middle of my life, I had another thought coming.

I wish I had posts niggling away in the back of my mind, just itching to run through my fingers into the computer keys, but I don't. It's as if I've not only lost the time but also the contemplative power to post.

Is my mind too full of to-dos and what-ifs to ponder anything beyond/above myself and my day? Or maybe I've allowed my mind to snack on diversions rather than dig into a feast of actual thought.

Or maybe this parenting thing is just completely all-encompassing.

Parenting isn't something a body can do halfway. A person really has to be all in - or not at all. Good parenting, bad parenting, that's another topic entirely; but if you're going to raise a little ankle-biter, it's going to completely revamp your life.

After N was born, someone told us that having a child was the most unselfish decision a couple could make. I'm still thinking having the SECOND child is least selfish, because then you have an idea of what you're giving up:
the right to your own glass and plate;
the ability to do a task from beginning to finish without interruption;
the possession of your own bed;
the luxury of using the bathroom by yourself;
the chance to sleep through the night;
the pursuit of hobbies, reading, and other interests;
and on and on and on . . .

N and I were at the town kiddie pool yesterday. It's a little wading area set off from the main pool, starts at 0" and gets to 1' 6" at the "deep" end. It comes complete with nine little fountains of water, three sets of three, spraying, bubbling, and shooting in their respective places. A favorite activity of the young patrons is to step on one of the fountains in a set, causing the others to spray further than normal.

N, taking everything in as she does, saw the "big" kids doing this and decided she would get in on that action.

She pulled herself out of the 4" section, hurried her way to the deep end, and flopped her toes down on the first fountain she came to.

Surprise!

The water shot between her toes and, rerouted by her interference, squirted right up into her face!

Shocked and a utterly perplexed, she backed up, furiously wiping water from her eyes. I wanted to laugh, but instead put on my compassionate face and helped her dry her face.

"Did the water squirt you?" I asked.

"Uh-uh," she answered with quivering lip.

"Here, use your whole foot, like this," I demonstrated.

And she did! She was so proud! Stepping on the fountain like the big kids!

She just had to go all in.

Feeling Kist

It was a Wednesday afternoon, and the week still hadn't decided if it would be sour or sweet.
Spring played hard to get;
N wanted her lunch,
except when she didn't want it,
until she wanted it again,
at which point she only wanted it if I would feed it to her while she danced around the kitchen table between bites.

And then two piano students came in for their 100th lesson. And they had flowers.
For me.
For our 100th lesson.

But even that paled in comparison to their old-fashioned thank-you note.

I think this week is going to turn out quite pleasant after all.

A Letter to a Dreamer

Dear Aspiring Home-Maker:

You're brave. Not many women today think staying at the house and making a home for your family is a big enough deal to be a dream.

Some do, but they're a little shy about declaring it.

I don't know why. Maybe they think it's a waste of a college education (as if it doesn't take a whole lot of intelligence to shape the next generation). Maybe they think others will think they're lazy (but if they were lazy, it would be smarter to hire a maid). Maybe it's a hold-over from the feminist "liberation" of women that gave women the option to be anything they want to be (as long as they don't want to be a home-maker).

You'll get called a number of different things.

"Stay-at-home mom" (as if you're never going to leave the four walls).
"House wife" (who wants to be married to a house?).
"Home-maker" (lofty, but I prefer "domestic engineer"!).

You'll get a number of different responses when you answer the question, "So, what do you do?"

Thankfully, I've never encountered outright derision. I'm hoping that was left back in the 1990's. Maybe it wasn't. Not sure what I'll do if I come across it.
I have, however, gotten the ambiguous, "It's nice your husband makes enough that you can stay home." I'm not sure what to do with that, exactly. I mean, it sounds like they're implying we're wealthy; compared to Africa, most of Asia, and South America, we are, but then, so are they; compared to the average American's idea of wealthy . . . ? I've seen people with much larger houses and newer cars complain about not being able to live on one income. You can't wait until you have enough to stay at home - you have to learn to make what you have be enough. I usually end up just saying, "Yes, I'm very thankful he does."
And then there are the congratulators, the ones who give me kudos and make me feel strong and counter-cultural. But then I feel like I'm misleading them. I'm not giving up a dream and putting a career on hold for the sake of my child(ren): this is my dream. This is what I've always wanted to do. I went to college and headed for a career, and, yes, if God hadn't given me a husband just then, I would probably have my master's by now.

But that wasn't my dream. This is.

Be brave, my sisters who share this dream. Let it be your dream. Be the shining light for someone else who wishes they could dream of making a home for their family.

It's so worth it.

Sincerely,
Me
Domestic Engineer

The Perks of Being a Girl

After N was born, some very kind persons gifted me with a certificate for service at a nail salon. I decided to double the fun and take my mom, so we both got mid-winter pedis last month.

Pros: it's January, so we could try a color we wouldn't normally get, because no one is going to see our feet. Plus, nothing beats the winter blues and gets you thinking summer like a pedi!
Cons: it's January, so no one is going to see our feet. Plus, once you're in the summer mood, you get to go outside to your car and it's still winter.

I loved the chance to pamper Mom and myself, since this isn't normally something I do/make the time to do. I would definitely recommend this gift idea for the new mom in your life!

And while we're on the topic, here are a few other less traditional ideas for gifts for mothers of new babies:

• Gift certificate for a massage or haircut
• Postage stamps (for all those thank you notes or baby announcements)
• Meals after 3 weeks post-partum
• Cleaning
• Promo codes for shutterfly.com or other photo sites

N charming the salon ladies