Out of the Land of Hurry (A Tale for Moms)

Oct 11, 2011 by Becky

Time runs incessantly by like a waterfall, violently. Clock and Watch seem to have the power over the days of men, they are such cruel rulers. The Sun and the Moon are no longer the Masters of the biological clock of the people in the Land of Hurry. Tic Toc; Tic Toc is the sound that can be heard all over the land, no time for listening to the birds’ song or watching squirrels, or kissing longer, or hugging tighter. Moms run from here and there, tirelessly, dragging feet and children. Dads go and go and go….

- But wait!

- Wait? Who dares to say THAT word in this Land of Hurry?

- It is me,  Quiet-Slow-Mom

- Are you talking to me? Sorry… I don’t have time to stay, I have to go. So many things in my list. I just can’t wait!

- Wait, please. Please, listen to me…

For some strange reason Rushing-Busy-Mom always in a hurry stopped. For the first time in months she stopped and even felt her heart pumping blood through her body, and without even thinking stared for a moment at a few small beautiful flowers beside the road, and felt her little daughter’s hand holding hers.

Quiet-Slow-Mom said,

-I used to walk like you, enslaved by the cruel Clock and like you, I loved to be running all day. It made me feel… so… productive. Yes, I felt more important if I could handle more things than I wanted to do. I murmured a tiny prayer whenever I had time and sometimes  I read a Bible verse that had been on my fridge for years. Yes, I had the same endless excuses, the little ones, the laundry, the money, the husband, the Bible study, the bills, the gym, the so longed for “Time-For-Me”, who, by the way, is the most shrewd deceiver around Moms.  But one day I stopped… well actually , He made stop…

-He? I barely remember any of His Words… It has been so long…I hadn’t have time.

- Yes, He made me stop; the Owner of My Days; the One who fixed the Sun and Moon in place to give us a day to work and a night to rest. He spoke clearly to me, I remember well. It was one day when he opened my ears to hear my voice, my dialog. I was scared. The two words that my children were listening from me  all day long were terrifying: Hurry Up!

Rushing-Busy-Mom had a lump in her throat and a tear made of minuscule particles of wasted time, rolled down from her cheek.

Quiet-Slow-Mom kept on saying,

- When I realized how many times I had spoken those words I broke into pieces. I knew in that moment that those words I kept saying all day, all days were exactly the opposite of what my heart longed for… I did not want to rush the hours, I did not want to make the time pass by so quickly, I did not want to hurry the moments… O Beautiful Moments that were disappearing without no one noticing them, and I just let them go by while Clock and Watch observed, and they laughed at me.

Rushing-Busy-Mom sat on the grass, and held her baby girl in her arms who was now sleeping. She took her tiny hands and took a moment to see how much her hands had grown and how beautiful her hair was.  The rays of the Sun were particularly beautiful that day… or so they seemed. She looked at Quiet-Slow-Mom and whispered to her…

- Do you think it is possible, really possible, to stop living under the cruel, rude, and powerful dominion of Clock and Watch? Is there a way out of the Land of Hurry?

- Yes, there is a way out of the Land of Hurry. It is that tiny door over there; it is just like the Door to Paradise which is narrow; it is a door through which you must enter on your knees, face down, with a contrite spirit… slowly, very slowly. You must leave behind all that doesn’t matter and walk through it humbly. When you hear the Owner of Time, the One who holds the days of mankind in the palm of His hand calling you, do not hesitate and walk through it. He will teach  you to number your days; He will teach you to live wisely in the Land. He will help you to kiss longer and hug tighter, and slow down to play and read a book. He will renew your strength every day with the power of His Word; when You come to meet Him early in the mornings you will find out how to live in this frame of time, serving Him and not Clock or Watch. You will find rest under His shadow and peace under His wings. You will  soon find yourself loving more, smiling more, baking more, making love more… It is when we stop and deliberately seek Him that Time stops ruling our days and we start living, fully living under His sun and by His grace…

Becky is a Mexican living in one of the most crowded cities in the world, Mexico City. She has been happily married to an incredible man for almost 20 years. They have four children and  have homeschooled them following the Classical Christian Education model. Their oldest son is a sophmore in College and their youngest is a 7 years old girl. Becky grew in a typical Evangelical church, but after much prayer from her Dad and reading A.W Pink’s book entitled God’s Sovereignity she came to love the Reformed faith. Becky enjoys the big books and the small books, she loves to study God’s word and read mostly, from dead authors, like the Puritans. She says that her real education began when she started homeschooling her children. She currently teaches Spanish at Veritas Press Scholars; loves to take out her watercolors on a sunny Saturday and paint, and you will always see her with her camera ready to capture the simple everyday moments that make up her days. She loves to bake muffins for her family on Saturdays while they are still asleep, so they wake up to the sweet smell of home. You can find Becky on her main blog Daily On My Way to Heaven; on her photography blog, My Daily Journey-through my lens- and on her Spanish blog, Delicias A Tu Diestra Para Siempre.

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My Story of Grace (Pt. 2)

Sep 23, 2011 by desiringvirtue

This part two of my Story of Grace. To read part one click here.

I came home from that youth camp a new creation. My heart yearned to know my God better, to learn how to please him and walk in his ways. Wednesday night youth group became a regular part of my life and soon Sunday worship service did as well. By God’s gracious providence I found myself in a Bible-centered church that focused heavily on discipleship and personal growth in holiness. They thought much of God and his Word and it translated into their everyday lives. It was there that I was introduced to names of faithful men from the past like John Calvin, Martin Luther, Charles Spurgeon and Jonathan Edwards, men who became profound spiritual influences on my life and understanding of Scripture. It was there that I was introduced to modern day preachers and teachers like John Macarthur, John Piper, Wayne Grudem, and R.C. Sproul, men who continue to challenge my thinking today and encourage me to hold tightly to the living Word of God. It was at that church that I was given a bearing for interpreting and understanding Scripture as well as taught the extreme importance of doing so rightly. Theology was a part of my earliest introduction to the faith and served to deepen and ignite my passion for the Lord and his Word.

Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth. (2 Timothy 2:15 ESV)

All Scripture is breathed out by God and profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work. (2 Timothy 3:16-17 ESV)

In addition to the incredible influences I was exposed to outside my local church, there were many faithful men and women within it who God used to shape and mold my spiritual character. Two of these people were Kris and Chelle Stire. About a month or so after I began attending church regularly, a Youth Pastor was hired named Kris Stire. He and his wife Chelle became the two most influential people in my spiritual walk. I began meeting regularly with Chelle for “discipleship” which was basically a dedicated time where she would hold me accountable for various areas in my life (i.e. Bible reading, obeying my parents, my relationships with boys, modesty, etc…) and share with me the lessons the Lord was teaching her. She became a sort of spiritual mother to me, continually lifting me up in prayer and encouraging me to walk in this new life with Christ and not give in to my sinful flesh.

Therefore, as you received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk in him, rooted and built up in him and established in the faith, just as you were taught, abounding in thanksgiving. (Colossians 2:6-7 ESV)

If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory. (Colossians 3:1-4 ESV)

When you become a Christian and are loosed from the bonds of sin, you quickly find out that your struggle with sin is not over. In fact, in a very real way, it is at that time that your struggle with sin truly begins. Before I came to know Christ, I could not overcome sin, I was a slave to it. No matter how hard I tried no matter how much I begged God, sin still exercised a harsh rule over my life. Christ died so that I could experience victory over this former oppressor and once I trusted in his sacrifice on the cross I was given the ability to do so. Sin is a pesky thing though, and our renewed spirits are housed in fleshly un-renewed bodies that continue to crave sin. Old desires, habits, and struggles were still a temptation to me and are to this day. The difference was that I now had the power of the Holy Spirit to fight the fight that I will eventually win (a victory that Christ secured for me). Some battles I won, while others I failed in, but all the while Christ’s blood was ready and able to forgive and empower. As I grew in my knowledge of him, my life slowly (oh what a slow process!) and consistently was being transformed into his image.

So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin. (Romans 7:21-25 ESV)

But now that you have been set free from sin and have become slaves of God, the fruit you get leads to sanctification and its end, eternal life. For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 6:22-23 ESV)

Through the ministry of my home church, my mother, father, brother, and sister-in-law have all come to know the Lord. Our family is now free to experience the incredible fellowship and love that only children of the Lord can enjoy. It is truly a merciful gift from the Lord to be able to worship him alongside your most loved family members.

I set out from this church of my spiritual infancy after graduating high school and through the Lord’s providence met my beloved husband while attending college. Richard was a young, handsome, and passionate man of God who wanted to preach the Word of God after so wondrously being saved through the mere reading of the gospels. Since then we have been on a spiritual (and physical) journey in our effort to follow the Lord’s will for our lives. Being a Christian doesn’t mean that God gives you everything you desire or think is good. It means that you trust that his will for your life is perfect, loving, and wise. It means that Christ himself is enough for you, enough to satisfy the deepest longings of your heart. Throughout set backs, disappointments, and grief the Holy Spirit has continued his sanctifying work in our lives. We have experienced a devastating miscarriage, very slow progress through seminary, more moves and job hunts than many experience in their entire life. Throughout every trial, God is constantly teaching us to rely on him alone and to hope in his perfect will above all else. Our plans may fail, our dreams may die, but nothing can separate us from the love of God, and that is the sustaining and liberating truth that we cling to. He has blessed us with all spiritual blessings as well as with a wonderful marriage, beautiful children, and loving family-all of which we are completely unworthy of!

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, “For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:35-39 ESV)

And so my grace story continues to this day as I seek to follow his will as a wife, mother, homemaker, church member, daughter, sister, and friend. I am learning more and more to live in his grace, to rely fully on his unfailing character to bring me to sanctification. As we prepare to welcome a new little baby into our family I am more aware then ever of my own inadequacies, but look forward to seeing the Lord fill those up with his own miraculous power. It is true that “the journey to Heaven is uphill” (Prentiss), yet it is also true that I don’t climb that hill with my own strength. I climb it with the strength of the Risen Lord, who died to secure my to sanctification.

No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. (Romans 8:37 ESV)

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My Story of Grace (Pt. 1)

Sep 20, 2011 by desiringvirtue

I grew up in a typical American “Christian” family. My mother came from a Catholic background and my father from an Episcopalian one. Neither of them were particularly devoted to their respective denominations, yet both of them were committed to raising us with a knowledge of God. What I mean by this is simply that from my earliest childhood years I was raised to believe that there there was indeed a God and that his existence impacted our daily lives. This foundation, though insufficient for salvation, was a tremendous blessing that I will always be thankful to my parents for and more importantly to my gracious God. Because of this simple foundation my heart was fertile ground for the Holy Spirit’s later work in my life.

Our family floated from church to church and I caught various tid bits of truth and falsehood from each of them. I prayed the sinner’s prayer multiple times knowing that I didn’t want to go to Hell and that if a prayer was my ticket out, I would take it. Unfortunately, though these prayers gave me momentary freedom from my fear of eternal punishment, they did nothing to resolve my need for permanent forgiveness and freedom from sin.

As I moved into my preteen and early teen years I became increasingly ensnared by private sin. From the outside I was a moral, mostly obedient daughter. I was a good girl. But in my private life, in the darkness of my own heart I was enslaved to sin and its burden was more than I could bare. My relationship to God was a vicious cycle of rebellion, shame, and penitence. I made vows to the Living God to forsake my sin, begging to be forgiven just one more time. I was ashamed before my Heavenly Father, filled with the guilt of my sin sickness. I was lost and operating on a religion of works-a religion that just didn’t work for a young girl enslaved to sin. I desperately wanted to get out of this deadly cycle, but couldn’t. The Holy Spirit had not yet whispered the key to salvation into my dead soul.

The wind blows where it wishes, and you hear its sound, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit. (John 3:8 ESV)

The summer before my sophomore year in high school I was invited by a friend of the family to a youth camp. My Dad, who was always enthusiastic about such things, encouraged me to go. With a borrowed Bible in tow (my uncle had gifted my brother with one on a previous Christmas) I set out with a bunch of strangers hoping to make some friends and potentially even flirt with a couple boys along the way.

Upon arrival the speaker asked us to take out a sheet of paper and write down why we were Christians. As I tore out a small piece of notebook paper I considered what I would write. It seemed pretty simple, at least from my perspective. My pen quickly scrolled out my entire theological understanding: “I know there is a God and he had a son named Jesus.” Of course I knew there was something special about Jesus, but what exactly was still a mystery to me. To me, Jesus was just a part of the religion that was a part of my life. After a brief silence the speaker proceeded to explain the reason he was a Christian.

He looked at us with a serious expression and said, “I am a Christian because I am so in love with Jesus Christ who came to earth to die for my soul and give me eternal life.”

I remember at that moment feeling very concerned about my lack of understanding of the Christian faith. The passion that this man exuded as he spoke about a personal relationship with Jesus was something that was beyond my understanding. I had never experienced such real, life altering faith and it was appealing to me. Throughout the following week my soul began searching for answers to questions I had never thought to ask. The most elemental principles were shrouded in mystery. I even asked another student (who was probably just as oblivious as I was) what she thought about as she prayed; did she imagine a light? Jesus on his throne? I had no idea!

The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned. (1 Corinthians 2:14 ESV)

The last night of camp was a night that changed everything for me. It was intentionally emotional-the lights were turned down and a video of the crucifixion played over a big projection screen. It was a night to make a “decision;” a night for the students to come to terms with the reality of the gospel. I look at such emotional techniques now knowing that they have the potential to produce highly emotional mountain top professions of faith followed by disillusioned returns to the valley of worldly life. And yet, I can’t help but marvel at the Lord’s mysterious working in my heart through that video. Never before had I understood that Jesus was God and that God had chosen to die a horrible death on the cross for my sins. I was struck by the incredible sacrifice that took place, struck by a King dying for his rebellious people… for this rebellious, broken young girl. I loved him. For the first time in my life I loved him and wanted to know him. My heart overflowed with appreciation and joy. My guilt was washed as away as I learned that Jesus paid the debt for every evil, disgusting sin I had ever committed. In a marvelous work of regeneration, the Holy Spirit removed the scales from my eyes and revealed my Savior to me. In that moment I was made free.

So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. (John 8:36 ESV)

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Amy’s Story of Grace

Aug 31, 2011 by Amy

I’ve known people who have those amazing, “Road to Damascus” moments in their testimony where in one mighty act, God turned their hearts to Him. God’s grace has worked in my life in more subtle ways so I cannot pinpoint one exact moment where I went from unbelief to belief. For me, salvation has been more of a process than one event.

I was raised in the church. I grew up in a strong and wonderful Presbyterian (PCA) church in Virginia where I found myself surrounded by a church family that loved each other and loved the Lord. It was a lovely place to grow up and to learn, and I don’t think I remember a time when I didn’t believe in Christ as Savior. I did all of the usual “good Christian girl” things like studying the Bible, and reading wonderful books such as Beautiful Girlhood, which made me want to grow up to be the sort of woman I saw modeled for me in the church. However, it was a childhood faith focused very much on what I needed to do and I still had much to learn about who God wanted me to be.

It was a series of speakers I heard with my family when I was 16 or 17 that really opened my eyes. One of them spoke on the process of sanctification and I remember him discussing the fruit of the Spirit from Galatians. He reminded the congregation that this fruit was not works generated by human will alone, but that it showed the working of the Spirit within us changing our hearts. When I heard him say that we needed not only to believe that Christ saves in the abstract but rather that Christ saves us personally, God really started to change my heart and mind toward Him.

I knew what it meant to go to church, to go to the teen girls’ group and learn from the women there, and I knew I needed to have devotionals at home. However, I knew these as actions and it was at this point that I wanted to know these things on a deeper level, not as the rituals of my childhood, but as the way to find this Jesus and to see what He would make of my life. It sounds like such a small thing, but giving myself over to the idea of seeing what Christ wanted to do with my life rather than figuring out what I wanted to do with my life was a huge shift in thinking. And it’s a shift in thinking that has made all the difference for me.

I was very blessed around that time. Not only did I find myself in a very strong Christian fellowship at college that was led by a godly couple who mentored us well, but I found myself in a Bible study of Matthew my first semester. I am convinced that God led me to this study at the perfect time. Just as I was feeling the change in my heart leading me to follow Christ and be His disciple, I was reading a book filled with Jesus’ instruction to his disciples.

Think about it. Throughout Matthew, we see Jesus teaching the disciples how they are to spread His word and urging them to an ever deeper belief. In the beginning, they do not understand, but Christ keeps teaching them through parables, through discussion of His kingdom, and through instruction in how they would spread the message of that kingdom. It had quite an influence on me because at that point in my life, I truly believed Christ was my Savior and the implications of how I would now live as a result of that were only just becoming clear.

The road to being a keeper at home has been a longer one for me. At the urging of my parents and, for a time, my husband, I pursued a full-time career. Like many in the DC area, I worked LONG hours. And I felt this career eating at my soul. I’ve written of this before, both here and on my own blog, but eventually God started to show me how this lifestyle did not match up with what He intended for my role to be as a married woman. There were women in the church I attended before I moved as well as cousins to whom I am close who were models to me of what a godly Christian woman should be and of what tone she should set in her home. And when I worked 60-70 hours a week at an office away from home, I could not be that woman. I could not keep that home. And knowing that I was not doing what God called me to do was something that kept coming back to me.

I prayed about it for a long while and as I’ve written before, I studied passages of the Bible dealing with God’s will for us as women. I’ve also been talking to my husband and cousins, and reading a number of blogs kept by women whom I look up to (I’ve been reading way longer than I’ve been commenting or blogging myself) and reading books on marriage, biblical womanhood and keeping the home. God’s leading in all of that has been bringing me home – and bringing me here. I couldn’t be more excited about this life God has given me and even though I long very much for some good mentoring, I also hope that God might use me to help someone else.

After several years of trying to balance the management of her home with being a professional woman, Amy is in the process of transitioning home to serve primarily as a homemaker. She now lives with her husband in the Washington DC area where she is enjoying the challenges of figuring out how to make a house a home. Hint: It’s requiring a much broader skill set than she or many other people would have ever dreamed! In her spare time, she enjoys travel, reading, and serving in her church. You can follow her adventures at MakingAJoyfulHome.blogspot.com.

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The Little Engine That Couldn’t…

Jul 5, 2011 by desiringvirtue

I grew up in a home where God was a reality. I never questioned his existence or his importance. However, my relationship to God and my understanding of God were painfully inadequate.

I can remember struggling with sin as a child and being weighed down by the guilt of the bad things I did. As a young teenager I can  vividly recall the shame I felt as I gave into temptations over and over again. I saw myself before this All Powerful, All Knowing, Righteous Judge and knew that he was dissatisfied with me and that I was horribly unworthy of him.

My heart longed to be right with God, but didn’t know how to accomplish that impossible task. I would cry out to him to forgive me, to give me another chance. I would promise to do better next time. I would promise time after time after time.

I desperately wanted to be good enough for God, but was stuck in the dismal reality of my unworthiness and inability to effect lasting change in my life.

Like the little engine in the famous children’s book I kept trying to find motivation in my own ability. “I think I can, I think I can, I think I can!” cried my soul. I will just try a little harder, I will make a few more vows, I will give up something I really love as an offering to God…

All the while I was unaware of my soul’s utter deadness. I didn’t realize that there wasn’t even a shred of hope for my self righteous attempts to earn God’s favor. Nothing I did would impress him, nothing I could do was worth anything. Unlike that famous little engine, I would never have the sweet victory of coasting down the other side of the mountain, triumphantly crying “I thought I could! I thought I could! I thought I could.”

Then one day, lost in my darkness, I met a man. I met a God-man named Jesus. He was strong and powerful and loving and kind. He was not like any other person who had walked the face of this earth.

No, he was unlike everyone, he was holy.

God himself had come to earth and put on the flesh of man. In an unbelievable act of humility he gave himself up to death, so that I could be made righteous. He offered to exchange my sin, my bad things, my failures for his holy life. He offered to give me all of his goodness, all of his triumph and all of his victory in exchange for my dead soul.

There was only one catch to this magnificent bargain. I had to give up. I had to stop trying to earn God’s favor. There was only one way to please God and that was to recognize my inability to please him and rely on Christ’s perfect, sinless life to satisfy the Righteous Judge of my soul.

I had to give up my life because it was to be lost in the God-man’s life. It wouldn’t be me living anymore, it would be Christ living in me. When God saw me, he would see his Son, the one he is oh so pleased with. If I yielded to this rescuing, I would be saved and all that was Christ’s would be mine.

What words can express the reality of grace?

Who can resist the free offer of eternal, abundant life?

What dead soul would dare refuse a real and vibrant heart beat?

No, once the love of God is revealed to a helpless sinner, his heart if forever captured, forever enamored with the beauty of the Savior.

So it was with my own lifeless heart. That stone-like thing bound by chains of sin was replaced with a warm, pumping, God loving heart. Sin no longer reigns over me, but Christ does. Christ. The strong and powerful and loving and kind Christ reigns over my life.

This little pathetic engine was rescued by the largest and strongest engine there is and he pulled her over the mountain of sin to God. In fact, he is still pulling her along today through the moment by moment trials and temptations.

For he has forever bound himself to her and promised to deliver her, sinless, to God one day.

Related: When Holiness Seems Too Far Away,  The Good News

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On Becomming a Full Time Homemaker

Jun 14, 2011 by Amy

“But as for you, teach what accords with sound doctrine. Older men are to be sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness. Older women likewise are to be reverent in behavior, not slanderers or slaves to much wine. They are to teach what is good, and so train the young women to love their husbands and children, to be self-controlled, pure, working at home, kind, and submissive to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be reviled.” (Titus 2:1-5 ESV)

I’ve been taught to tell stories from the beginning, and this one has quite a start to it.  It’s not every day that one encounters a woman who stays home full time without having young children, and the question I hear most often is, “Why in the world do you do this?”

“This” is something I have only transitioned into doing for the past seven months, and by 2012, I should be able to stay home full-time.  The Lord has graciously provided the opportunity for me to pursue my heart’s desire as a worker at home and I couldn’t be happier! This journey has been quite a challenge so far and I’m certain more adventures await as I seek to obey the Lord’s calling on my life.

Having been raised in a Christian home, reading the Bible at home as well as in church, I had certainly come across this passage from Titus many times.  I’ve heard it preached from the pulpit and discussed in Bible studies.   However, as a young woman I was urged by my parents and later by my husband to work outside the home until children came along. It never occurred to me that working outside the home could be a detriment to my family rather than a blessing.  Certainly I felt the conflict of work obligations and home obligations, but it was not until I had spent a few years working away from home that we really noticed how the lifestyle had started to affect our family.

Having both of us work meant both my husband and I came home tired, and neither inclined to invest much in the work of keeping the home.  I’ve always loved to cook, so I kept us fed, but lacked the time to cook the healthy and fresh meals I would desire to make.  In addition, it would be fair to say that housekeeping standards slid embarrassingly low at times and I especially had a hard time focusing my heart on the home.  I found it very difficult to make a house a home when the majority of my day was spent focusing on someone else’s business!  As I am sure many of you are thinking, this is not an uncommon situation, so I just figured this was what modern life was like and that I would need to learn to live with it.

Then one day, I spent some time talking to a childhood friend of mine.  She’s a military wife, and one of those amazing people who seems able to immediately find a church home and plant herself happily at every new duty station they encounter.  When we spoke this time, she bubbled over with excitement as she told me of a Titus 2 class that she had been invited to teach along with another mother in her church.  As she spoke about the studies and activities planned for the young girls of the church, I started to see a window into another way of life – and I liked what I saw.

After we finished speaking, I pulled out my Bible and started to read Titus 2.  As I hit verse 5 and got to those words, “…that the Word of God may not be reviled,” a chill ran down my spine.  I knew deep in my heart that the Lord was beginning to realign my priorities with His. In this passage, wives were clearly encouraged to value and invest in their homes in a way that I never had before. I also knew that while my working outside the home allowed us some “extras”, it was not a true necessity for our family.  Would we be challenged without it?  Oh yes, but not utterly undone.  In addition, the expenses of my job in terms of professional wardrobe, commuting and the like were a drain on our resources and that had to be taken into account as well.  Thinking and praying over this, it became obvious that our particular situation did not require me to work full-time outside the home and my doing so was making it more difficult to turn our home into the haven I wanted it to be.

I felt convicted on this subject, but didn’t know what to do.  I prayed to God for His forgiveness and for Him to show me the way to live according to His will in this area of my life.  Though I desired to, I knew I couldn’t just quit my job cold turkey.  I had the sort of job upon which other people depended and if I suddenly left with no notice, I’d throw them into the lurch.  I also had another problem: Even though I wanted to spend more time keeping the home, I had trouble picturing what that would look like.  Since we do not have children, my first thoughts were of cooking, cleaning and helping my husband.  Having more time to cook would be nice, and cleaning and helping my husband both were certainly necessary, but I hardly saw how those could fill complete days!

After studying and praying through Titus 2, Proverbs 31, and other related passages, my husband and I began working out my transition home as well as how I would order my life as a worker at home.  The wealth of books and articles by Christian authors on this subject have also proven deeply helpful as well, so long as I read prayerfully and am mindful of checking them against Scripture.

As you can imagine, moving from a full-time job to keeping the home has been quite a transition.  I’ll be writing entire posts on all the many lessons I’ve learned about homekeeping as well as the lessons in humility, perseverance and ingenuity that this journey has required.  I’m still very much a work in progress and I value hope and encouragement on the journey as much as I do wish I can extend the same to you.  I’ll be posting more detailed stories in the future and would love to answer your questions in the comments as I go along. Thank you!

After several years of trying to balance the management of her home with being a professional woman, Amy is in the process of transitioning home to serve primarily as a homemaker. She now lives with her husband in the Washington DC area where she is enjoying the challenges of figuring out how to make a house a home. Hint: It’s requiring a much broader skill set than she or many other people would have ever dreamed! In her spare time, she enjoys travel, reading, and serving in her church. You can follow her adventures at MakingAJoyfulHome.blogspot.com.

Don’t forget to enter the Seasons of Life Giveaway. Prize options include books from Elisabeth Elliot, Paul David Tripp, and Elyse Fitzpatrick! Click here to visit the giveaway page…

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What is Perfect?

May 5, 2011 by desiringvirtue

It’s past his bedtime and approaching mine. I slip under my covers exhausted from the day, looking over at his tiny bed just a couple feet away. Unfortunately it doesn’t look like he has any intention of falling asleep. If only his bed wasn’t right next to mine, if only he had his own room, if only he would go to sleep, if only…

His little head bobs up and he begins throwing me kisses, one after another, the good kind that come with the puckered lip sound. His smile beams from cheek to cheek and I can’t help but return the giggles he sends my way as the barrage of kisses keep coming.

I can’t help but think… this is perfect.

What is something that isn’t exactly ideal in your life, but something that brings you much joy?

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Jan 20, 2011 by desiringvirtue

Joy.

That little apartment was beaming with joy. Inside was a young wife who had just confirmed her suspicions-she was pregnant. Life was blossoming within her and she couldn’t contain the smile it produced on her lips.

“Hello little one,” she sang as she gently caressed her now precious belly.

How would she tell her Love? How should she share with him the most wonderful news of their lives?

She raced to the store to buy a statue of a man holding his newborn baby-she remembered her love admiring it before. Soon she was in her galley kitchen mixing the batter to a cake she would ice blue and pink. She quickly prepared the tiny home for her Love’s arrival, made their favorite dinner and queued the movie to just the right place.

There was his key in the door. That familiar sound sent excitement through her veins as she put on the most ordinary face possible.

“I want to eat in here tonight,” she said motioning into the living room where the baked tortellini was sending steam to the ceiling of the enchanted room.

“Ok, what are we watching?” His eyes moved from the little laptop screen to her coy face.

“Oh, I was watching Made for Each Other, do you want to keep watching?”

Always up for a Jimmy Stewart film, he settled into their couch and marveled at the cake. “Wow! What is the occasion?”

“No occasion, just felt like baking…” Did he not notice the color scheme? Oh never mind he will get it soon enough she said to herself.

The movie took up where she had stopped it: John Mason opens the note slipped to him by his wife and he slowly grasps that they are going to have a baby. As the couple on screen exchange bewildered expressions the little wife sitting next to her unsuspecting husband presented him with a gift. His confusion fell to the ground with the wrapping as he helds the final clue to his future.

“No way!”

“Yes.” She nodded her head through tears and they embraced. That night was filled with laughter and talk of the future. Images of a beautiful child flashed in their imaginations as they spoke of the experiences to come. They threw off any fears that some might suppose accompany such news and thanked their Heavenly Father for the gift of life produced through their love.

“Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.” -James 1:17

Their child was shrouded with prayer that night. That night in January of 2008.

Pain.

It wasn’t normal. Surely she shouldn’t be feeling like this. Is that blood?

“No, God, please no.” Tears formed pools of sadness in her eyes. She looked out the window and prayed to her Father, but in her heart she already knew what was going to happen.

The next day the young wife and her brave husband sat in a dark room next to the glow of a computer monitor showing their baby. Their precious baby, so small, so miraculous.

“It is hard to tell at this point,” the caring voice cautioned, “Usually there is a heart beat, but sometimes not yet.”

Not yet? Could the young wife cling to those words? “Can we have that picture?” she asked hesitantly.

One picture. One piece of evidence. Proof that a baby had existed. One glimpse into their possible future.

They left that room with uncertainty, but the next few days of anguish confirmed the young wife’s heart knowledge.

Her baby was taken from her. In a war of horrid pain her baby was snatched from her womb. Where life had once been, there was only stillness. In the final hours of February 25th the young mother and the young father she loved lost their baby. A still silence punctuated only by their soft whimpers filled their tiny apartment. Her mother, the bereaved grandmother, sat close by stunned by the utter sadness. What words were there to say?

Silence was broken by the young mother’s feeble words, “We should pray.” The young father, her love, lifted up their little family to their good God. They asked for peace, for comfort, for joy. They asked for clarity and trust. Their hearts cried out to the One who took their baby, the baby he had given them.

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb, and naked shall I return. The LORD gave, and the LORD has taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD.” -Job 1:21

“Shall we receive good from God, and shall we not receive evil?” -Job 2:10

Sacrifice.

The pain didn’t go away. She carried it with her everywhere she went. It was heavy at first, strong like the waves of the ocean. Each baby she saw seemed to push her back down into memories of a lost future. Push, push, crash, crash. As she worshiped alongside other families on Sundays she silently cried, longing for what they had, longing for her baby, her lost baby.

But her pain wasn’t wasted. It wasn’t for nothing. Every tear, every longing was a sacrifice she offered up to her God, beautiful incense. She begged her Savior to teach her the lesson he intended for her to learn, that she would have the ears to hear it and the heart to grasp it. She gave him her pain and asked for his strength.

She asked him to be strong for her and he was.

“Who is like the LORD our God, who is seated on high,  who looks far down on the heavens and the earth?  He raises the poor from the dust and lifts the needy from the ash heap,  to make them sit with princes, with the princes of his people.  He gives the barren woman a home, making her the joyous mother of children. Praise the LORD!” -Psalm 113:5-9

Every day she grew stronger and slowly the waves got smaller. The Lord brought new blessings into her life. She would never be the same. Her faith was deeper, more real than it had been. She walked through the fire of affliction and was more beautiful because of it. She loved her God with a more natural, more pure love. Her praises were filled with memories of of pain and deliverance; her testimony one that had been tried, tested. She was thankful, thankful for the pain.

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” -James 1:2-4

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Perfect Moments

Jan 3, 2010 by desiringvirtue

Darkness surrounds us and silence is broken only by soft, tiny, even breaths. They were not always thus. No, a few moments ago they were short, scared, filled with pain. That was before Mommy was with you, before you felt the skin of her soft shoulder beneath your head, before you heard her gentle voice fill your soul. But she is here now; I am here now.

Mommy’s mind races through the countless times she has rocked you like this. The many minutes, hours that we have spent together in the darkness. Rocking. There were the nights when you nursed at her breast, so small and delicate. Now you are warm, heavy, and beautiful sleeping quietly on my shoulder.

Time seems to move slower when we rock in the darkness.  Looking into your angelic face I know that I am forever blessed. Many will never experience these perfect moments, but God has given them to me in abundance. Though you dream far away, Mommy whispers a prayer praising her Father for the miracle that you are. Must I surrender you to your bed and leave this night to the cruel dimness of memory?

I’ll let you go now sweet child. Don’t you worry or stir as I set you down. I am never more than a whimper away, never more than a soft cry down the hall. If you call me I will hear you because that is what Mommies do. Our souls are connected and I feel when you need me. While the rest of the world sleeps, my heart keeps watch over you, my little one. It won’t allow me to forget you; it won’t allow me to sleep through.

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