In Which I Talk About Surviving Bill Gothard's Cult

This is a hard post to write and have it make sense because of the broad yet specific nature of it. There is a point to it (a really good point!), but you have to first wade through a little of my personal background in order to understand the point. So although I've gone through four drafts of this, and it's a little clunky as I try to keep my thoughts in order, I hope you will read through to the end. And be nice, because this is a topic that I've never written about before on the blog: my experience in a cult.

If you are a Christian or a homeschooler, chances are that you've seen the articles circulating through FaceBook, World Magazine, The Washington Post, Christianity Today and in other places about the latest conservative Christian leader to fall: Bill Gothard.

If you haven't heard of Bill Gothard (lucky you!), he is the man behind the Institute of Basic Life Principles (IBLP) and the homeschool program that is part of it, the Advanced Training Institute (ATI). What started out as seminars on resolving basic youth conflicts morphed into a full-fledged homeschooling movement that came to characterize most of the pioneer homeschoolers of the 80's and 90's.

A strong patriarchal group with ties to the Quiverfull movement as well, there is no way to provide a quick overview of the group, but a few of the teachings are (randomly pulled from my memory in no particular order):

• Women should wear skirts only
• Married couples should have as many babies as possible (no birth control)
• Dating means you've given away too much of your heart, and couples should instead go through the courting process if they are interested in each other
• Homeschooling is the only correct way of educating
• Men are always considered to be under their father's authority whether they are married or not. Likewise, women are under their father's authority until they marry, and then that transfers to their husbands. The ages of those involved never play into the authority structure. (In other words, it's quite possible to have a 45-year-old man still under the authority of his 70-year-old father.)
• Women don't need college and should help around the house with their younger siblings until they get married
• Women are responsible for tempting the male if they are raped
• Men should be clean shaven
• Rock music is of the devil
• Cabbage Patch Dolls are possessed
• Adopting children brings all of the kids' forefathers' sins into your home. Those sins are usually very severe.

I could go on and on, but that's just to give you an idea. On top of that, there is Scripture taken out of context, facts twisted to fit Gothard's personal preferences, rules on how to be intimate with your spouse, and specifics on how to raise your kids. Lots and lots of rules and methods for success. (Note: my parents did not subscribe to all of these rules in our home, but these are rules that I absorbed during my time living in one of their training centers. IBLP is VERY effective at indoctrinating their students.)

A few weeks ago, Gothard was forced to resign due to allegations that he sexually harassed at least 34 women he worked with, including minors. He has also been accused of groping and covering up child abuse among those in his ministry. The details and allegations are many, so if you'd like to read more of the specifics, the Recovering Grace website (written by students who have made it out of the program), is a great place to start.

So...this is the guy who has been making all of the rules for all of these families enrolled in his program. Oh, did I mention that he is 79 and has never been married or had kids? Yeah, figure that one out. (Side Note: The Duggars of 19 Kids and Counting are huge proponents of IBLP, close friends with Gothard, and speak at his conferences. Just be aware of that if you find yourself drooling over their perfect life.)

I think I've mentioned it in passing before that I was homeschooled, which I really loved for the most part! Our years in IBLP didn't come into the picture until I was in my teens. I even lived in one of their training centers while attending a "finishing school" for a couple of months when I was 16 years old. I was *so* excited to go to the EXCEL class, because I thought that it would be all about cake decorating and flower arranging (hey, it was in the brochure!), but instead, it ended up being two solid months of brainwashing. Oh, if only I was joking, but I'm dead serious about the brainwashing.

Over 10 years later, I can now see IBLP for what it is. It's a cult. In fact, some of us jokingly called the hardcore followers, "Gothardites." It was funny then, but terribly sad now.

It's taken me years to mentally and emotionally climb back out of the IBLP cult, and I'm currently in long overdue therapy to help me process through some of it. Thankfully, we were only enrolled for a couple of years before my parents pulled us out when I was 17. They started to realize that there was some wacky stuff being promoted, and thought it best to make an exit. I'm grateful that they pulled us when they did and always supported and encouraged me to pursue an education, but a lot of the damage had already been done. It's been over 10 years, but it's only been recently that I've started telling my parents about some of things that went on in the class that I attended. IBLP very effectively controlled all communication between parents and kids while the kids were enrolled in their programs, and the brainwashing ran deep. At 16 years old, you don't have much life experience to filter ideas through, and mental isolation makes it that much worse. Looking back, it is amazing to me how quickly and completely the group worked to manipulate and indoctrinate students and families. They had a system down, and it was extremely efficient and thorough.

Once your brain is hardwired to believe a certain way, it doesn't rewire easily.

Maybe you are wondering why I feel the need to write a post going all the way back to my teen years. That's a fair question. The answer has a couple of parts, but I'm sticking with the main one for now:

Because there are women and girls still in this program and in other programs like it.

I care about the men and boys too, but it's the women and girls that make my heart break. Sweet Christian women who are told that submission to the point of bondage inside a marriage, no voice or opinion, and being blamed for any shortcomings of her husband is the best way to be a good wife. That she is only good for running a house and raising children. That if her husband strays, it's because she wasn't a good enough wife. It's filled with guilt, the need to "just try harder," and the thought that if anything goes wrong, all fingers will be pointed back to her. Because she is a woman and that's her role in life....oh, friends. It's a horrible, horrible existence, and they don't even realize it. They don't realize it, because they are conditioned to believe it, and their acceptance is rooted in their ability to perform to those standards.

It is a form of slavery even though they aren't physically locked away.

The recent developments with Gothard, and my current therapy sessions have brought a lot of emotions and memories back to the forefront of my mind, and I feel like I have to say something in defense of these trapped women.

Sadly, it's not just in IBLP that women are doormats. I've seen this happen in regular churches, and in non-homeschooling families. I so badly want to grab these ladies and show them what grace and freedom in Christ looks like. I certainly don't have it all figured out, but I've been on their side and know what they are missing.

Friends, it's so easy to get sucked in by the promises of men who have a 5-step-plan to overcoming everything. Everyone wants a guaranteed outcome in life, but when you buy into a mindset like that, then you end up following the man and not needing God. There is no formula to a successful Christian life, but there IS freedom and grace if you choose to follow the Ultimate Authority instead of what some guy comes up with on a yellow legal pad.

If you are trapped, thinking that you aren't worth anything, that your value is directly tied to your performance, or that you are at the mercy of the men around you, I want you to know that you've got it all wrong. Yay!

You are valuable, precious, and wanted by the God who created you. Please get help finding that freedom if you need to! It's a long, hard process. I'm not going to lie to you. Dissecting what you think is true to find what is really true is exhausting and frustrating. But it is so worth it in the end!

And if you aren't trapped in a situation and thought pattern like this, but know someone who is, please, please, PLEASE reach out to them. They will most likely have no idea that there is even anything wrong. But be that friend who sticks by them, and gently and patiently holds their hand. As a woman who has made it out and over to the other side, those friends are often the catalysts to starting the process of finding freedom.

***For further reading, please visit Recovering Grace.
***You may also enjoy reading my review of Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey. It's about taking a second look at the Biblical role of women...and it might not be what you think!

Special thanks to my amazing husband, Sean, for standing next to me over the past years as I've worked through my issues. He always encourages me to keep going until I find the truth, is willing to talk through my ideas with me, and pays for my therapy sessions every other week. :)

This is a hard post to write and have it make sense because of the broad yet specific nature of it. There is a point to it (a really good point!), but you have to first wade through a little of my personal background in order to understand the point. So although I've gone through four drafts of this, and it's a little clunky as I try to keep my thoughts in order, I hope you will read through to the end. And be nice, because this is a topic that I've never written about before on the blog: my experience in a cult.

If you are a Christian or a homeschooler, chances are that you've seen the articles circulating through FaceBook, World Magazine, The Washington Post, Christianity Today and in other places about the latest conservative Christian leader to fall: Bill Gothard.

If you haven't heard of Bill Gothard (lucky you!), he is the man behind the Institute of Basic Life Principles (IBLP) and the homeschool program that is part of it, the Advanced Training Institute (ATI). What started out as seminars on resolving basic youth conflicts morphed into a full-fledged homeschooling movement that came to characterize most of the pioneer homeschoolers of the 80's and 90's.

A strong patriarchal group with ties to the Quiverfull movement as well, there is no way to provide a quick overview of the group, but a few of the teachings are (randomly pulled from my memory in no particular order):

• Women should wear skirts only
• Married couples should have as many babies as possible (no birth control)
• Dating means you've given away too much of your heart, and couples should instead go through the courting process if they are interested in each other
• Homeschooling is the only correct way of educating
• Men are always considered to be under their father's authority whether they are married or not. Likewise, women are under their father's authority until they marry, and then that transfers to their husbands. The ages of those involved never play into the authority structure. (In other words, it's quite possible to have a 45-year-old man still under the authority of his 70-year-old father.)
• Women don't need college and should help around the house with their younger siblings until they get married
• Women are responsible for tempting the male if they are raped
• Men should be clean shaven
• Rock music is of the devil
• Cabbage Patch Dolls are possessed
• Adopting children brings all of the kids' forefathers' sins into your home. Those sins are usually very severe.

I could go on and on, but that's just to give you an idea. On top of that, there is Scripture taken out of context, facts twisted to fit Gothard's personal preferences, rules on how to be intimate with your spouse, and specifics on how to raise your kids. Lots and lots of rules and methods for success. (Note: my parents did not subscribe to all of these rules in our home, but these are rules that I absorbed during my time living in one of their training centers. IBLP is VERY effective at indoctrinating their students.)

A few weeks ago, Gothard was forced to resign due to allegations that he sexually harassed at least 34 women he worked with, including minors. He has also been accused of groping and covering up child abuse among those in his ministry. The details and allegations are many, so if you'd like to read more of the specifics, the Recovering Grace website (written by students who have made it out of the program), is a great place to start.

So...this is the guy who has been making all of the rules for all of these families enrolled in his program. Oh, did I mention that he is 79 and has never been married or had kids? Yeah, figure that one out. (Side Note: The Duggars of 19 Kids and Counting are huge proponents of IBLP, close friends with Gothard, and speak at his conferences. Just be aware of that if you find yourself drooling over their perfect life.)

I think I've mentioned it in passing before that I was homeschooled, which I really loved for the most part! Our years in IBLP didn't come into the picture until I was in my teens. I even lived in one of their training centers while attending a "finishing school" for a couple of months when I was 16 years old. I was *so* excited to go to the EXCEL class, because I thought that it would be all about cake decorating and flower arranging (hey, it was in the brochure!), but instead, it ended up being two solid months of brainwashing. Oh, if only I was joking, but I'm dead serious about the brainwashing.

Over 10 years later, I can now see IBLP for what it is. It's a cult. In fact, some of us jokingly called the hardcore followers, "Gothardites." It was funny then, but terribly sad now.

It's taken me years to mentally and emotionally climb back out of the IBLP cult, and I'm currently in long overdue therapy to help me process through some of it. Thankfully, we were only enrolled for a couple of years before my parents pulled us out when I was 17. They started to realize that there was some wacky stuff being promoted, and thought it best to make an exit. I'm grateful that they pulled us when they did and always supported and encouraged me to pursue an education, but a lot of the damage had already been done. It's been over 10 years, but it's only been recently that I've started telling my parents about some of things that went on in the class that I attended. IBLP very effectively controlled all communication between parents and kids while the kids were enrolled in their programs, and the brainwashing ran deep. At 16 years old, you don't have much life experience to filter ideas through, and mental isolation makes it that much worse. Looking back, it is amazing to me how quickly and completely the group worked to manipulate and indoctrinate students and families. They had a system down, and it was extremely efficient and thorough.

Once your brain is hardwired to believe a certain way, it doesn't rewire easily.

Maybe you are wondering why I feel the need to write a post going all the way back to my teen years. That's a fair question. The answer has a couple of parts, but I'm sticking with the main one for now:

Because there are women and girls still in this program and in other programs like it.

I care about the men and boys too, but it's the women and girls that make my heart break. Sweet Christian women who are told that submission to the point of bondage inside a marriage, no voice or opinion, and being blamed for any shortcomings of her husband is the best way to be a good wife. That she is only good for running a house and raising children. That if her husband strays, it's because she wasn't a good enough wife. It's filled with guilt, the need to "just try harder," and the thought that if anything goes wrong, all fingers will be pointed back to her. Because she is a woman and that's her role in life....oh, friends. It's a horrible, horrible existence, and they don't even realize it. They don't realize it, because they are conditioned to believe it, and their acceptance is rooted in their ability to perform to those standards.

It is a form of slavery even though they aren't physically locked away.

The recent developments with Gothard, and my current therapy sessions have brought a lot of emotions and memories back to the forefront of my mind, and I feel like I have to say something in defense of these trapped women.

Sadly, it's not just in IBLP that women are doormats. I've seen this happen in regular churches, and in non-homeschooling families. I so badly want to grab these ladies and show them what grace and freedom in Christ looks like. I certainly don't have it all figured out, but I've been on their side and know what they are missing.

Friends, it's so easy to get sucked in by the promises of men who have a 5-step-plan to overcoming everything. Everyone wants a guaranteed outcome in life, but when you buy into a mindset like that, then you end up following the man and not needing God. There is no formula to a successful Christian life, but there IS freedom and grace if you choose to follow the Ultimate Authority instead of what some guy comes up with on a yellow legal pad.

If you are trapped, thinking that you aren't worth anything, that your value is directly tied to your performance, or that you are at the mercy of the men around you, I want you to know that you've got it all wrong. Yay!

You are valuable, precious, and wanted by the God who created you. Please get help finding that freedom if you need to! It's a long, hard process. I'm not going to lie to you. Dissecting what you think is true to find what is really true is exhausting and frustrating. But it is so worth it in the end!

And if you aren't trapped in a situation and thought pattern like this, but know someone who is, please, please, PLEASE reach out to them. They will most likely have no idea that there is even anything wrong. But be that friend who sticks by them, and gently and patiently holds their hand. As a woman who has made it out and over to the other side, those friends are often the catalysts to starting the process of finding freedom.

***For further reading, please visit Recovering Grace.
***You may also enjoy reading my review of Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey. It's about taking a second look at the Biblical role of women...and it might not be what you think!

Special thanks to my amazing husband, Sean, for standing next to me over the past years as I've worked through my issues. He always encourages me to keep going until I find the truth, is willing to talk through my ideas with me, and pays for my therapy sessions every other week. :)

A Beautiful Ruckus

When I was a kid, I used to get bent out of shape over the littlest things.

My mom's favorite story to tell about my need for order is what happened one day when I was 18 months old. A friend came over to play. Sam had been over often and our moms were best friends so apparently we knew each other pretty well. I had an adorable Fisher Price Tea Set that my parents had given me for Christmas that I loved. It had a little tray with four cups, four spoons, four plates, a creamer, a sugar pot, and of course the tea pot. I loved that little tea set and enjoyed setting everything just right.

And then Sam came over and the first thing he did was knock everything off of the tray. Little plastic dishes went flying while I started wailing.

At 18 months old I was beside myself with the disruption of order.

When I got older, I shared a room with my sister. There was an invisible line down the center of the room separating my Type A personality from her Type B personality. I thought her side was a disaster, and I'm pretty sure she thought I was boring and unimaginative. We drove each other nuts.

I wish the perfectionism only extended to how orderly I kept my belongings, but the need for perfect order, lists, and schedules was only blossoming.

I got very, very cranky when people messed with my plans. Scratch that. I still get cranky.

I remember on multiple occasions, my mom would take me aside and tell me that I needed to loosen up because being this rigid in life just wasn't going to work long term.

But, I still took that rod up my you-know-what straight into our marriage without another thought.

And then one day, God decided that we were perfect candidates for quadruplets.

Huh??

That severely screwed with my plans. I had a list. A timeline. An ideal. A way my life would look and progress. Twins did not fit in there even sort of. Quadruplets never even crossed my mind.

If only I knew that having multiples was just the start of the chaos that was coming my way.

Sean loves this video (click here). And honestly, I kind of do too. I'll warn you now, it's thirty seconds of my kids screaming. They were tired and clingy and all wanted mommy to themselves when I filmed it.

It's my day in a nutshell (even though they are older now). But I think it's beautiful.

Why?

Because when they aren't screaming, they are hilarious toddlers who are learning all the different expressions that their faces make.

Because nothing beats an open-mouth, drool covered kiss from Elijah.

Because nothing is cuter than the big wet hug that Ellie gives me as I'm rinsing her hair in the bathtub.

Because when one of them does something correctly, they all clap for their sibling as I praise him/her (adorable!)

Because, without fail, Elijah runs into something daily and the puzzled expression on his face, "Where did that come from?" still makes me laugh!

Because that final tight hug just before they go to bed for the night let's me know that Sean and I are the two most important people in the whole world to them.

Because Abby is quite possibly the cutest little jumper when she is excited about something...unless she's jumping during nap time when I'm desperate for all four of them to sleep.

Because even when they are whining, crying, and generally carrying on, they come running to me because they know that I will try to fix it.

Because Caleb just wants to be held and reminded that I'll always, always love him.

Because of how deeply I'm in touch with other multiples moms and preemie/NICU moms, I hear a lot of really sad stories. Stories of moms who don't ever get to meet their kids, or whose kids go through excruciating things in the hospital. The stories make my heart hurt and my arms wrap a little tighter around my kids.

Two-years-old is an extremely tough age. I think it's the hardest so far. But I'll take the screaming, the clinging, and the boundary testing because with it comes the laughing and the cuddling. My days never go according to plan, I'm always running late, and generally this is not the route I saw my life going.

My plans were derailed in a royal way.

But in the end, I'm so happy that it all adds up to the derailed plans of a beautiful ruckus.

When I was a kid, I used to get bent out of shape over the littlest things.

My mom's favorite story to tell about my need for order is what happened one day when I was 18 months old. A friend came over to play. Sam had been over often and our moms were best friends so apparently we knew each other pretty well. I had an adorable Fisher Price Tea Set that my parents had given me for Christmas that I loved. It had a little tray with four cups, four spoons, four plates, a creamer, a sugar pot, and of course the tea pot. I loved that little tea set and enjoyed setting everything just right.

And then Sam came over and the first thing he did was knock everything off of the tray. Little plastic dishes went flying while I started wailing.

At 18 months old I was beside myself with the disruption of order.

When I got older, I shared a room with my sister. There was an invisible line down the center of the room separating my Type A personality from her Type B personality. I thought her side was a disaster, and I'm pretty sure she thought I was boring and unimaginative. We drove each other nuts.

I wish the perfectionism only extended to how orderly I kept my belongings, but the need for perfect order, lists, and schedules was only blossoming.

I got very, very cranky when people messed with my plans. Scratch that. I still get cranky.

I remember on multiple occasions, my mom would take me aside and tell me that I needed to loosen up because being this rigid in life just wasn't going to work long term.

But, I still took that rod up my you-know-what straight into our marriage without another thought.

And then one day, God decided that we were perfect candidates for quadruplets.

Huh??

That severely screwed with my plans. I had a list. A timeline. An ideal. A way my life would look and progress. Twins did not fit in there even sort of. Quadruplets never even crossed my mind.

If only I knew that having multiples was just the start of the chaos that was coming my way.

Sean loves this video (click here). And honestly, I kind of do too. I'll warn you now, it's thirty seconds of my kids screaming. They were tired and clingy and all wanted mommy to themselves when I filmed it.

It's my day in a nutshell (even though they are older now). But I think it's beautiful.

Why?

Because when they aren't screaming, they are hilarious toddlers who are learning all the different expressions that their faces make.

Because nothing beats an open-mouth, drool covered kiss from Elijah.

Because nothing is cuter than the big wet hug that Ellie gives me as I'm rinsing her hair in the bathtub.

Because when one of them does something correctly, they all clap for their sibling as I praise him/her (adorable!)

Because, without fail, Elijah runs into something daily and the puzzled expression on his face, "Where did that come from?" still makes me laugh!

Because that final tight hug just before they go to bed for the night let's me know that Sean and I are the two most important people in the whole world to them.

Because Abby is quite possibly the cutest little jumper when she is excited about something...unless she's jumping during nap time when I'm desperate for all four of them to sleep.

Because even when they are whining, crying, and generally carrying on, they come running to me because they know that I will try to fix it.

Because Caleb just wants to be held and reminded that I'll always, always love him.

Because of how deeply I'm in touch with other multiples moms and preemie/NICU moms, I hear a lot of really sad stories. Stories of moms who don't ever get to meet their kids, or whose kids go through excruciating things in the hospital. The stories make my heart hurt and my arms wrap a little tighter around my kids.

Two-years-old is an extremely tough age. I think it's the hardest so far. But I'll take the screaming, the clinging, and the boundary testing because with it comes the laughing and the cuddling. My days never go according to plan, I'm always running late, and generally this is not the route I saw my life going.

My plans were derailed in a royal way.

But in the end, I'm so happy that it all adds up to the derailed plans of a beautiful ruckus.

"Today, I decided that I was just going to say something."

"I love your blog!"

I turned around to find an older woman at the end of the juice aisle. She was pushing a cart of groceries and hesitated for just a moment as she made eye contact with me, smiling.

"Oh...thank you!" I replied. With no children on hand, I realized that she must have recognized me from my picture. "What is your name?"

The sweet lady stopped altogether, and introduced herself as Sarah, a nurse for the past 50 years, and a reader of the blog since before our kids were born. We chatted for a few minutes about the kids and how they are doing developmentally, before we went our separate ways.

But she said something else during our conversation that I haven't forgotten, even though our encounter was several months ago. She said, "I've seen you here several times before. I told my husband that you must live in the area, but I've never wanted to stop and bother you. But today I decided that I was just going to say something!"

If ever there was a time when I needed to hear her words of encouragement, that was the day.

Recently, I've been having a sort of internal crisis. I've been blogging for more than three years, and freelance writing for almost as long. The beautiful thing about writing, is that for an introvert like myself, it perfectly fits my comfort level. The unfortunate part of writing is that it requires you to put yourself out there. In three years, I've grown used to some of the judgmental comments made about me and my family. It just goes with the territory. And by and large, people really are kind. But recently, there have been some extra things said that have really knocked me down.

So far down that for the last several months, I've daily considered stopping altogether.

• "Whatever made me think that anything I write is worthwhile?"
• "People keep private journals all the time. There is no reason to keep a blog."
• "I've fooled myself into thinking I'm a decent writer." 
• "If I shut down my blog, I won't even be missed. The kids won't care about reading this stuff when they are older anyway."
• "At least then, people will like me."

The internal dialogue would play over and over again as I felt myself going through the motions of writing. I don't mind disagreement or healthy debate, but the mean, personal attacks were getting to be too much. At one point, I asked Sean through tears, "Is this worth it? Is writing worth it? I love it so much, but is it worth the stress and the frustration of trying to be real, transparent, and approachable when I know not everyone likes that?"

He said it was worth it. And so that's what I've clung to as I've tried to find my feet again.

But then, out of the blue, between picking up three loaves of bread for that week's sandwiches, and getting excited that I can now buy butter in two pound packages, a lady who I'd never met, stopped to encourage me in the juice aisle.

I can't even imagine what she thought when I turned around. No makeup, hair unbrushed and hastily pulled back into a ponytail, coughing from a recent cold, and dark circles under my eyes. And then, believe it or not, I pounced on this lady I'd never met and hugged her. I hugged her because she took a few minutes to encourage me, an exhausted mom who desperately needed to hear something positive.

Could she have known what she did for me? I doubt it. I doubt she thought as she rolled up to me, "Gee! I better say something because that lady is on the verge of quitting her blog, and holing up with her kids in an effort to avoid everyone." Instead, she just said something because she felt like that was the day.

I've thanked God over and over again for that conversation since then. Friends, you never know when something you say will have a lasting impact on someone. It doesn't even have to take more than a couple of minutes. Take a minute to encourage someone, especially if they don't look like they need it. Odds are, they need it the most.

And for goodness sake, if you see me out and about, stop me and say, "Hi!" I like meeting you all!

Also, I am *so* glad that I brushed my teeth that morning! I almost didn't!

"I love your blog!"

I turned around to find an older woman at the end of the juice aisle. She was pushing a cart of groceries and hesitated for just a moment as she made eye contact with me, smiling.

"Oh...thank you!" I replied. With no children on hand, I realized that she must have recognized me from my picture. "What is your name?"

The sweet lady stopped altogether, and introduced herself as Sarah, a nurse for the past 50 years, and a reader of the blog since before our kids were born. We chatted for a few minutes about the kids and how they are doing developmentally, before we went our separate ways.

But she said something else during our conversation that I haven't forgotten, even though our encounter was several months ago. She said, "I've seen you here several times before. I told my husband that you must live in the area, but I've never wanted to stop and bother you. But today I decided that I was just going to say something!"

If ever there was a time when I needed to hear her words of encouragement, that was the day.

Recently, I've been having a sort of internal crisis. I've been blogging for more than three years, and freelance writing for almost as long. The beautiful thing about writing, is that for an introvert like myself, it perfectly fits my comfort level. The unfortunate part of writing is that it requires you to put yourself out there. In three years, I've grown used to some of the judgmental comments made about me and my family. It just goes with the territory. And by and large, people really are kind. But recently, there have been some extra things said that have really knocked me down.

So far down that for the last several months, I've daily considered stopping altogether.

• "Whatever made me think that anything I write is worthwhile?"
• "People keep private journals all the time. There is no reason to keep a blog."
• "I've fooled myself into thinking I'm a decent writer." 
• "If I shut down my blog, I won't even be missed. The kids won't care about reading this stuff when they are older anyway."
• "At least then, people will like me."

The internal dialogue would play over and over again as I felt myself going through the motions of writing. I don't mind disagreement or healthy debate, but the mean, personal attacks were getting to be too much. At one point, I asked Sean through tears, "Is this worth it? Is writing worth it? I love it so much, but is it worth the stress and the frustration of trying to be real, transparent, and approachable when I know not everyone likes that?"

He said it was worth it. And so that's what I've clung to as I've tried to find my feet again.

But then, out of the blue, between picking up three loaves of bread for that week's sandwiches, and getting excited that I can now buy butter in two pound packages, a lady who I'd never met, stopped to encourage me in the juice aisle.

I can't even imagine what she thought when I turned around. No makeup, hair unbrushed and hastily pulled back into a ponytail, coughing from a recent cold, and dark circles under my eyes. And then, believe it or not, I pounced on this lady I'd never met and hugged her. I hugged her because she took a few minutes to encourage me, an exhausted mom who desperately needed to hear something positive.

Could she have known what she did for me? I doubt it. I doubt she thought as she rolled up to me, "Gee! I better say something because that lady is on the verge of quitting her blog, and holing up with her kids in an effort to avoid everyone." Instead, she just said something because she felt like that was the day.

I've thanked God over and over again for that conversation since then. Friends, you never know when something you say will have a lasting impact on someone. It doesn't even have to take more than a couple of minutes. Take a minute to encourage someone, especially if they don't look like they need it. Odds are, they need it the most.

And for goodness sake, if you see me out and about, stop me and say, "Hi!" I like meeting you all!

Also, I am *so* glad that I brushed my teeth that morning! I almost didn't!

What My House Really Looks Like On a Regular Thursday Morning

Today's post is a little different from the norm. I decided to do a vlog (video blog) this morning on a whim after reading through your answers to my annual survey again. I always read the survey results many, many times over the course of the year, and it often inspires posts. So you all are directly responsible for the inspiration behind this one!

One of the comments on the survey said this:

" I do hate you a little for being the mom that can raise toddlers, bake fantastic meals EVERY week, blog and make home made stuff. ;)"

LOL!

Oh, girl. I'd hate myself too! You have to remember that you see the highlights of my week, and my meal plan is a list of my best intentions. You don't see the mess, disorganization (which drives me nuts!), the toilets that need to be scrubbed, and the stairs that haven't been swept in....months. I don't bake as much as I used to because, honestly, I couldn't keep up with myself. Seriously. I do not have life together over here, and I really don't want you to think that I do!

So that's why I'm doing something out of the ordinary. I'd like to invite all of you over to see my house in all its glory. That's right. I'm inviting you in without running around and picking up everything first. I literally read the comment, leaned over to pick up my camera, and started recording. I could make excuses for what you will see in the following video, but...hey, it is what it is.

Now that you've seen the inside of my house, I hope I didn't scare anyone off. Ha!

In all seriousness though, this is who I am. And I really don't want to be perfect either. Too much stress and pressure that way. I'm just a mom trying to figure out how to balance everything...just like you!

P.S. Be nice in the comments, would ya? :)

Today's post is a little different from the norm. I decided to do a vlog (video blog) this morning on a whim after reading through your answers to my annual survey again. I always read the survey results many, many times over the course of the year, and it often inspires posts. So you all are directly responsible for the inspiration behind this one!

One of the comments on the survey said this:

" I do hate you a little for being the mom that can raise toddlers, bake fantastic meals EVERY week, blog and make home made stuff. ;)"

LOL!

Oh, girl. I'd hate myself too! You have to remember that you see the highlights of my week, and my meal plan is a list of my best intentions. You don't see the mess, disorganization (which drives me nuts!), the toilets that need to be scrubbed, and the stairs that haven't been swept in....months. I don't bake as much as I used to because, honestly, I couldn't keep up with myself. Seriously. I do not have life together over here, and I really don't want you to think that I do!

So that's why I'm doing something out of the ordinary. I'd like to invite all of you over to see my house in all its glory. That's right. I'm inviting you in without running around and picking up everything first. I literally read the comment, leaned over to pick up my camera, and started recording. I could make excuses for what you will see in the following video, but...hey, it is what it is.

Now that you've seen the inside of my house, I hope I didn't scare anyone off. Ha!

In all seriousness though, this is who I am. And I really don't want to be perfect either. Too much stress and pressure that way. I'm just a mom trying to figure out how to balance everything...just like you!

P.S. Be nice in the comments, would ya? :)

I'm Dreaming of a Nice Christmas

 

Just after we were married, I took a part-time job in a local Christian bookstore while looking for a full-time job. I figured that a Christian bookstore would be a safe and fun place to work. Besides, with an English degree, the idea of being surrounded by books for hours on end was highly appealing.

My first shift there, I was greeted by very friendly coworkers and coached on the registers by my new boss. Everything was going swimmingly, and I was catching on pretty quickly with my prior retail knowledge. To my delight, a mother and her young son who looked to be about five-years-old came up to the counter to buy a few things. As I picked up the mother's items to start ringing them through, I smiled down at her son and asked if he liked Larry Boy from VeggieTales. He was sporting a Larry Boy shirt, and looked like he might really enjoy the vegetable dressed as a superhero. He smiled back and responded, "Yes!"

And then the mother snapped. And I mean snapped. I suddenly found myself dodging a flying Bible that moments before the mother was about to buy as she screamed at me to stop flirting and looking at her son. Stunned, I tried to explain myself, but instead watched her run yelling from the store...leaving her son and his grandmother standing awkwardly at the counter. The grandmother was absolutely humiliated by her daughter's overreaction and apologized profusely for the fact that I had just had a Bible thrown at me and been accused very wrongly when I hadn't done anything wrong.

I politely rang up the purchases that the grandmother wanted to make. The second they walked out the door, my boss who had seen everything asked if I was going to leave and never come back. Of course I wasn't, but my main question was, "So, do you guys get Bibles thrown at you often here?"

Now obviously, the lady was certifiably nuts. I worked there for several months, through the crazy Christmas season and never had to dodge another Bible, but I was appalled at the way I was treated on numerous occasions in a Christian bookstore...by self-proclaimed Christians.

Seriously, sometimes I'm flat out ashamed to be lumped in with the general Christian population. With some of the stuff I've seen, is it any wonder that there are people who shy away from us?

Lately, I seem to be extra bothered by the lack of respect given to people who work hourly jobs. It bothers me because these people are working hard to support their families and dealing with jerks who end up in their lines. Customer service, in any form, ain't pretty.

Because of that, I make a conscious effort to engage with and thank everyone who comes across my path. Whether it is a grocery store cashier, a restaurant server, a sales person, or a customer service rep on the phone, I always treat them with the utmost respect. I'm a firm believer that the world would be a little kinder if everyone had to put some time in behind the counter. Think about Sam the Butcher from the Brady Bunch and Mr. McFeeley, the mailman from Mr. Rogers. Those people were friends with their customers, and their customers enjoyed seeing them!

Next week is Thanksgiving, that means that the harried, stressful days of pre-Christmas prep are right behind it. I would love for you to go through this season reminding yourself that the man or woman across the counter or on the other end of the phone is a human as well. Even if they seem "off" or a little rude, remember that there could be something else on their mind. Maybe they are stressed about making Christmas happen for their kids, their mom just ended up in the hospital, or the customer who just left their line yelled at them.

And I shouldn't have to say this, but unfortunately, I do. If you claim to be a Christian, make extra sure that you are treating the person who is helping you with respect. Nothing will destroy your witness (and the witness of Christians in general) faster than being an asshole. Blunt, but true.

It takes zero extra energy to treat a seasonal or hourly worker with gratefulness as an equal. Don't be the customer who is a jerk. Be the customer that they are sad to see go. You may never see what it does for their spirits, but as someone who has dodged a flying Bible, your kindness may very well be the highlight of their day.

 

Just after we were married, I took a part-time job in a local Christian bookstore while looking for a full-time job. I figured that a Christian bookstore would be a safe and fun place to work. Besides, with an English degree, the idea of being surrounded by books for hours on end was highly appealing.

My first shift there, I was greeted by very friendly coworkers and coached on the registers by my new boss. Everything was going swimmingly, and I was catching on pretty quickly with my prior retail knowledge. To my delight, a mother and her young son who looked to be about five-years-old came up to the counter to buy a few things. As I picked up the mother's items to start ringing them through, I smiled down at her son and asked if he liked Larry Boy from VeggieTales. He was sporting a Larry Boy shirt, and looked like he might really enjoy the vegetable dressed as a superhero. He smiled back and responded, "Yes!"

And then the mother snapped. And I mean snapped. I suddenly found myself dodging a flying Bible that moments before the mother was about to buy as she screamed at me to stop flirting and looking at her son. Stunned, I tried to explain myself, but instead watched her run yelling from the store...leaving her son and his grandmother standing awkwardly at the counter. The grandmother was absolutely humiliated by her daughter's overreaction and apologized profusely for the fact that I had just had a Bible thrown at me and been accused very wrongly when I hadn't done anything wrong.

I politely rang up the purchases that the grandmother wanted to make. The second they walked out the door, my boss who had seen everything asked if I was going to leave and never come back. Of course I wasn't, but my main question was, "So, do you guys get Bibles thrown at you often here?"

Now obviously, the lady was certifiably nuts. I worked there for several months, through the crazy Christmas season and never had to dodge another Bible, but I was appalled at the way I was treated on numerous occasions in a Christian bookstore...by self-proclaimed Christians.

Seriously, sometimes I'm flat out ashamed to be lumped in with the general Christian population. With some of the stuff I've seen, is it any wonder that there are people who shy away from us?

Lately, I seem to be extra bothered by the lack of respect given to people who work hourly jobs. It bothers me because these people are working hard to support their families and dealing with jerks who end up in their lines. Customer service, in any form, ain't pretty.

Because of that, I make a conscious effort to engage with and thank everyone who comes across my path. Whether it is a grocery store cashier, a restaurant server, a sales person, or a customer service rep on the phone, I always treat them with the utmost respect. I'm a firm believer that the world would be a little kinder if everyone had to put some time in behind the counter. Think about Sam the Butcher from the Brady Bunch and Mr. McFeeley, the mailman from Mr. Rogers. Those people were friends with their customers, and their customers enjoyed seeing them!

Next week is Thanksgiving, that means that the harried, stressful days of pre-Christmas prep are right behind it. I would love for you to go through this season reminding yourself that the man or woman across the counter or on the other end of the phone is a human as well. Even if they seem "off" or a little rude, remember that there could be something else on their mind. Maybe they are stressed about making Christmas happen for their kids, their mom just ended up in the hospital, or the customer who just left their line yelled at them.

And I shouldn't have to say this, but unfortunately, I do. If you claim to be a Christian, make extra sure that you are treating the person who is helping you with respect. Nothing will destroy your witness (and the witness of Christians in general) faster than being an asshole. Blunt, but true.

It takes zero extra energy to treat a seasonal or hourly worker with gratefulness as an equal. Don't be the customer who is a jerk. Be the customer that they are sad to see go. You may never see what it does for their spirits, but as someone who has dodged a flying Bible, your kindness may very well be the highlight of their day.

Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey: Revisiting the Bible's View of Women

I write a lot. And I read a lot. I find both relaxing, so I try to work both into my day. However, I don't write a lot about what I read. I guess it's because there are just so many other things that I want to write about.

But every now and again, I come across a book that has me so riled, I MUST write about it. If you remember the last adult book I reviewed, I didn't have very nice things to say about it. But this book, Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey, has me riled in a completely different way.

I want it to rile you too.

 

Sarah Bessey is a blogger who Sean and I follow. I love her style of writing and most of what she has to say. She is about to publish her first book, and Sean saw that there was an opportunity to get an advance copy and read it ahead of time. Then he told me the title, and I balked. "Uh, no. I'm not reading some feminist book." But he gently prompted me to read the synopsis by posting the link on my FaceBook wall. I knew he wanted to read it, but since I'm the blogger, I'd have to request the copy and agree to review it.

So being the good wife that I am, I did so, albeit begrudgingly. I believe I said, as I hit the download button, "I'll read and review it, but you know that I have to be honest in anything that I write. If I hate Jesus Feminist, then I'm writing that."

Since then, I can't tell you how many times I've thanked him for encouraging me to read it.

To fully understand why I loved this book so much, you have to know a little bit about my background. It would take too long to outline the whole thing, but here is a brief summary: I grew up thinking that women were doormats. They were the lesser partner in a marriage, and peons in the church. If there was sin, most likely it was the woman's fault. Let's just say that my hubby put me through counseling a time or two both before and after we got married. That is an extremely hard mindset to shake once it settles into the brain.

And Jesus Feminist addresses a lot of that.

In her book, Sarah Bessey takes on the subject of women in the church and their role in Kingdom activities. I truly thought that it would have a "men are turds" type of spin to it, but it was actually the furthest thing from that. Her issue is that women aren't "allowed" to pursue their full potential in the church. True, she does briefly discuss women pastors (which I don't agree with), but she takes it so much further than that.

Women are consistently put into a certain box within the church: children's ministry, hospitality ministry, women's ministry, keep the kitchen clean ministry, review Sunday School curriculum ministry, etc. Regardless of the strengths and skills that God has given them, there is this perception of what is acceptable for a woman to do within a church, and she is limited to that. Bessey argues that by trying to fit women into that box, the Kingdom is missing out on some serious contributors.

Now there is nothing wrong with any of those ministries. Nothing at all! In fact, I help with or participate in several of those. However, the fact is that in all of the churches I've been in, I've never been asked if I'd like to help with the maintenance duties or be on the finance committee. No one has asked about my strengths in those areas because...I'm a woman. And the truth is that if two identical candidates were being considered by a church for a ministry with the only difference being gender, the decision is often gender based.

I think the part of her book that I enjoyed the most was the section where she looked at women in the Bible more in depth.

• Deborah? She was an army commander and a judge.
• Priscilla? She ran a business with her husband and is actually mentioned by name before her husband in Biblical passages; a decidedly uncultural move.
• The Proverbs 31 Woman? She worked outside her home. And yet so many Christian women are told today that their place is in the home and no where else.

And the list goes on. As many times as I've read about those women, I haven't ever understood how strong and effective they were in their roles. Roles that were not "with the time" as women truly were second class in that culture. These women had strengths and talents that they used to glorify God and further His Kingdom, and they were commended for that rather than shut down.

And that is where the title, Jesus Feminist, comes from. Jesus saw women as equals in the part that they play in the Kingdom battle. He didn't see gender. But Bessey carefully avoids condemning men. At the same time that she is asking that women be given a chance to use their God-given gifts, she is encouraging an equal partnership with men. I very much appreciate that she never bashes men, and instead sees the bigger picture of what can be done when men and women partner together. What a gift to be seen as equally important to God!

As a woman who has struggled with finding an identity in Jesus and in the church, I found this book met me in a place that I couldn't even verbalize. It's so discouraging to live thinking of oneself as a second class citizen. But the Jesus I follow does not see me as dispensable because I'm "just" a woman. God made me a woman on purpose. He gave me strengths and skills on purpose. And He wants me to be purposeful in how I use them for His glory. He didn't give me my gender to keep me down, but rather because I could most effectively serve Him with my unique talents as a woman.

Jesus Feminist helped me see myself as Jesus sees me: precious, beautiful, vibrant, strong, cherished, and unique. Someone that He loves enough to die for. How encouraging and freeing to find myself loved that much!

It's true, I have the advance ebook version of Jesus Feminist, but I still pre-ordered the paperback version of this book a few days ago. I need a copy in my library to remind myself of my value in the coming days as I do my best to be an effective servant of Jesus. I also wanted a copy to lend out. I hope that by the time my children (boys and girls!) are old enough to read it, my copy will be so dog-eared from so much use, that I will have to buy a new copy.

I strongly encourage men and women alike to read this book and see gender roles from a different perspective. I can't recommend this book enough! It is easily one of my all time favorites!

I received an advance copy of Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey from NetGalley in return for my honest review. No other compensation was provided. This post may contain affiliate links. For more info, please see my disclaimer page.

I write a lot. And I read a lot. I find both relaxing, so I try to work both into my day. However, I don't write a lot about what I read. I guess it's because there are just so many other things that I want to write about.

But every now and again, I come across a book that has me so riled, I MUST write about it. If you remember the last adult book I reviewed, I didn't have very nice things to say about it. But this book, Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey, has me riled in a completely different way.

I want it to rile you too.

 

Sarah Bessey is a blogger who Sean and I follow. I love her style of writing and most of what she has to say. She is about to publish her first book, and Sean saw that there was an opportunity to get an advance copy and read it ahead of time. Then he told me the title, and I balked. "Uh, no. I'm not reading some feminist book." But he gently prompted me to read the synopsis by posting the link on my FaceBook wall. I knew he wanted to read it, but since I'm the blogger, I'd have to request the copy and agree to review it.

So being the good wife that I am, I did so, albeit begrudgingly. I believe I said, as I hit the download button, "I'll read and review it, but you know that I have to be honest in anything that I write. If I hate Jesus Feminist, then I'm writing that."

Since then, I can't tell you how many times I've thanked him for encouraging me to read it.

To fully understand why I loved this book so much, you have to know a little bit about my background. It would take too long to outline the whole thing, but here is a brief summary: I grew up thinking that women were doormats. They were the lesser partner in a marriage, and peons in the church. If there was sin, most likely it was the woman's fault. Let's just say that my hubby put me through counseling a time or two both before and after we got married. That is an extremely hard mindset to shake once it settles into the brain.

And Jesus Feminist addresses a lot of that.

In her book, Sarah Bessey takes on the subject of women in the church and their role in Kingdom activities. I truly thought that it would have a "men are turds" type of spin to it, but it was actually the furthest thing from that. Her issue is that women aren't "allowed" to pursue their full potential in the church. True, she does briefly discuss women pastors (which I don't agree with), but she takes it so much further than that.

Women are consistently put into a certain box within the church: children's ministry, hospitality ministry, women's ministry, keep the kitchen clean ministry, review Sunday School curriculum ministry, etc. Regardless of the strengths and skills that God has given them, there is this perception of what is acceptable for a woman to do within a church, and she is limited to that. Bessey argues that by trying to fit women into that box, the Kingdom is missing out on some serious contributors.

Now there is nothing wrong with any of those ministries. Nothing at all! In fact, I help with or participate in several of those. However, the fact is that in all of the churches I've been in, I've never been asked if I'd like to help with the maintenance duties or be on the finance committee. No one has asked about my strengths in those areas because...I'm a woman. And the truth is that if two identical candidates were being considered by a church for a ministry with the only difference being gender, the decision is often gender based.

I think the part of her book that I enjoyed the most was the section where she looked at women in the Bible more in depth.

• Deborah? She was an army commander and a judge.
• Priscilla? She ran a business with her husband and is actually mentioned by name before her husband in Biblical passages; a decidedly uncultural move.
• The Proverbs 31 Woman? She worked outside her home. And yet so many Christian women are told today that their place is in the home and no where else.

And the list goes on. As many times as I've read about those women, I haven't ever understood how strong and effective they were in their roles. Roles that were not "with the time" as women truly were second class in that culture. These women had strengths and talents that they used to glorify God and further His Kingdom, and they were commended for that rather than shut down.

And that is where the title, Jesus Feminist, comes from. Jesus saw women as equals in the part that they play in the Kingdom battle. He didn't see gender. But Bessey carefully avoids condemning men. At the same time that she is asking that women be given a chance to use their God-given gifts, she is encouraging an equal partnership with men. I very much appreciate that she never bashes men, and instead sees the bigger picture of what can be done when men and women partner together. What a gift to be seen as equally important to God!

As a woman who has struggled with finding an identity in Jesus and in the church, I found this book met me in a place that I couldn't even verbalize. It's so discouraging to live thinking of oneself as a second class citizen. But the Jesus I follow does not see me as dispensable because I'm "just" a woman. God made me a woman on purpose. He gave me strengths and skills on purpose. And He wants me to be purposeful in how I use them for His glory. He didn't give me my gender to keep me down, but rather because I could most effectively serve Him with my unique talents as a woman.

Jesus Feminist helped me see myself as Jesus sees me: precious, beautiful, vibrant, strong, cherished, and unique. Someone that He loves enough to die for. How encouraging and freeing to find myself loved that much!

It's true, I have the advance ebook version of Jesus Feminist, but I still pre-ordered the paperback version of this book a few days ago. I need a copy in my library to remind myself of my value in the coming days as I do my best to be an effective servant of Jesus. I also wanted a copy to lend out. I hope that by the time my children (boys and girls!) are old enough to read it, my copy will be so dog-eared from so much use, that I will have to buy a new copy.

I strongly encourage men and women alike to read this book and see gender roles from a different perspective. I can't recommend this book enough! It is easily one of my all time favorites!

I received an advance copy of Jesus Feminist by Sarah Bessey from NetGalley in return for my honest review. No other compensation was provided. This post may contain affiliate links. For more info, please see my disclaimer page.

Why I Don't Agree With the Modesty Argument

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All summer long, my FaceBook news feed has been full of modesty articles. They are usually well-written pieces advocating for women to think about how they dress and strongly encouraging them to cover up more. I've seen so many come through my news feed, shared over and over and over again by my friends. I kept reading them, hoping that someone was finally going to provide a different take on the issue.

Sadly, I didn't find that to be the case.

So although it's the end of the summer and swimsuits will soon be tucked away, I want to provide my perspective on it, because I feel like half of the issue has been completely disregarded. If you are wondering what my take is on it, it's this:

I don't agree with the modesty argument.

Now, before you get your panties in a wad (because we all know that bunching is visible from the outside of your pants and that is way too suggestive), please let me explain.

I have two little girls and two little boys. I'm a mom who loves her children fiercely and would do anything to protect them. Indeed, I already have. Because my kids are quadruplets, our doctors told us to abort at least two of them. Instead, I chose a painful pregnancy, hospitalized bed rest, and a month-long labor over taking the easy way out. And I would do it again to protect them. If someone intends to hurt one of my children, I will take them out. And I don't mean to dinner.

I also read the news. Everything from stories about kidnapping victims, to underage sex trafficking, to the rape camps in different parts of the world. I'm not oblivious to what happens out there. But I still take issue with the idea of modesty that is being circulated by Christian conservatives. And I am one. Go figure.

Here is why: The modesty issue is a double standard, with women being the victim.

Like many young girls growing up in a Christian home, I used the fingertip rule when buying shorts, I "pinched an inch" on either side of my bust when trying on shirts, and I even voluntarily wore only skirts for awhile when I was a teenager. Why? Because I was told that modesty was an issue that women needed to take seriously. After all, guys like looking at women, so we needed to make that as difficult as possible. Hide those sexy knees!

But as I've become an adult woman, I've realize that the argument used to make women cover up is flawed. The common verse associated with women dressing modestly is from 1 Timothy 2:9-10. It says, "I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God."

The modesty argument goes like this, "God tells women they need to be modest. Why? Because guys are turned on visually, and if women aren't careful, they will cause them to stumble." And often on the heels of that is offered the statement that if a woman is raped, kidnapped, sold into the sex slave trade, or cheated on by her boyfriend/husband, it was her fault (or in the case of being cheated on) another woman's fault. She failed in being modest and that is what caused her to be targeted. The word "victim" isn't used. "Victim" is a word for people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Clearly, if a woman is sexually assaulted or physically beaten, it comes down to what she was wearing and the sexual attitude that most certainly went with it.

And that makes me angry. As both a woman and as a mother of girls.

Why aren't the men being called to account on the modesty issue? Telling a woman that the responsibility lies solely on her shoulders is both untrue and unbiblical. The Bible flat out states that men should guard their eyes in Matthew 5: 28, "but I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart."

Even the wayward woman in Proverbs 7 is said to entice a man into her house. She didn't go out there and drag him in after her! Verse 22 says, "He followed her." That means he walked into her house by his own choice. And yet, if this same scenario played out today, under current modesty standards, the man wouldn't be held responsible because the woman suggested the liaison.

Huh, what?!

Are guys turned on visually? Absolutely. It's often said that women are supposed to be careful of causing men to stumble because of that. Yet the passage they are referring to in 1 Corinthians 8 actually has nothing to do with modesty. It's about food. And it is directed to both men and women regarding eating meat sacrificed to idols. While I think it can apply to many different scenarios, saying it's about modesty and directing it at women is taking the verse out of context.

Are women turned on visually? Absolutely. The idea that they aren't is ridiculous. Show me a teenage girl who hasn't said, "Whoa, he's hot!" God created us to be sexual beings. To love and be loved. To enjoy each others bodies, and actually have fun while doing it! (see the entire book of Song of Solomon if you don't believe me!) Think about it: If only guys were "turned on", we wouldn't have any babies. (Okay, there might be a few, but I know that *I* didn't enjoy being pregnant!)

If modesty is only a woman's responsibility, then rape doesn't exist. It can't. How can a woman prove rape if she was "asking for it by how she dressed?" And what about just plain old lusting after a woman? The same Bible that has 1 Timothy 2:9-10 also says in 1 Corinthians 10:13, "No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it." Guys, I think your excuses just hopped the first train out of town. Or how about this one from 1 Corinthians 6:18, "Flee from sexual immorality." There are no caveats to that command. No excuses for either sex based on what the other person is wearing.

Do you see where current modesty standards make no sense? There is no mutual personal responsibility!

So it's not that I have an issue with the modesty argument. It's that I have an issue with where the modesty argument stops in Christian culture today. I love my girls, and I want to protect them from sexual predators, teach them to look forward to their one-day-husbands, and show them how to dress stylishly while still leaving a bit of mystery. But I also love my boys. For them, I want them to know that the modesty issue isn't one sided and that they have just as much responsibility to protect themselves and the women around them by guarding their thought life.

Here is what I think the modesty argument SHOULD look like:

Women: Leave a little mystery. It's more fun for everyone that way! And be aware that images of men can turn you on too.

Men: Take responsibility for protecting your own eyes and hearts. And be aware that women are turned on by what they see as well.

Christians: Learn to love and respect each other regardless of the actions of the opposite sex. You ultimately get to have a conversation with God over the choices you make here on earth. Pointing at the other gender isn't going to get you off of the hook. (Hey, it didn't work for Adam and Eve, and they tried it right at the beginning.)

I am disappointed by the way the topic of modesty is handled, and hope that someday, the very people who profess to love everyone will realize that a one-sided modesty argument makes for a population of victimized and silenced women.

What do you think? Is too much responsibility for modesty left at the feet of women? Or do you think the standards are fair?
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Don't forget to Pin this post!                                                                          Photo Credit: via photopin cc 

All summer long, my FaceBook news feed has been full of modesty articles. They are usually well-written pieces advocating for women to think about how they dress and strongly encouraging them to cover up more. I've seen so many come through my news feed, shared over and over and over again by my friends. I kept reading them, hoping that someone was finally going to provide a different take on the issue.

Sadly, I didn't find that to be the case.

So although it's the end of the summer and swimsuits will soon be tucked away, I want to provide my perspective on it, because I feel like half of the issue has been completely disregarded. If you are wondering what my take is on it, it's this:

I don't agree with the modesty argument.

Now, before you get your panties in a wad (because we all know that bunching is visible from the outside of your pants and that is way too suggestive), please let me explain.

I have two little girls and two little boys. I'm a mom who loves her children fiercely and would do anything to protect them. Indeed, I already have. Because my kids are quadruplets, our doctors told us to abort at least two of them. Instead, I chose a painful pregnancy, hospitalized bed rest, and a month-long labor over taking the easy way out. And I would do it again to protect them. If someone intends to hurt one of my children, I will take them out. And I don't mean to dinner.

I also read the news. Everything from stories about kidnapping victims, to underage sex trafficking, to the rape camps in different parts of the world. I'm not oblivious to what happens out there. But I still take issue with the idea of modesty that is being circulated by Christian conservatives. And I am one. Go figure.

Here is why: The modesty issue is a double standard, with women being the victim.

Like many young girls growing up in a Christian home, I used the fingertip rule when buying shorts, I "pinched an inch" on either side of my bust when trying on shirts, and I even voluntarily wore only skirts for awhile when I was a teenager. Why? Because I was told that modesty was an issue that women needed to take seriously. After all, guys like looking at women, so we needed to make that as difficult as possible. Hide those sexy knees!

But as I've become an adult woman, I've realize that the argument used to make women cover up is flawed. The common verse associated with women dressing modestly is from 1 Timothy 2:9-10. It says, "I also want women to dress modestly, with decency and propriety, not with braided hair or gold or pearls or expensive clothes, but with good deeds, appropriate for women who profess to worship God."

The modesty argument goes like this, "God tells women they need to be modest. Why? Because guys are turned on visually, and if women aren't careful, they will cause them to stumble." And often on the heels of that is offered the statement that if a woman is raped, kidnapped, sold into the sex slave trade, or cheated on by her boyfriend/husband, it was her fault (or in the case of being cheated on) another woman's fault. She failed in being modest and that is what caused her to be targeted. The word "victim" isn't used. "Victim" is a word for people in the wrong place at the wrong time. Clearly, if a woman is sexually assaulted or physically beaten, it comes down to what she was wearing and the sexual attitude that most certainly went with it.

And that makes me angry. As both a woman and as a mother of girls.

Why aren't the men being called to account on the modesty issue? Telling a woman that the responsibility lies solely on her shoulders is both untrue and unbiblical. The Bible flat out states that men should guard their eyes in Matthew 5: 28, "but I tell you that anyone who looks at a woman lustfully has already committed adultery with her in his heart."

Even the wayward woman in Proverbs 7 is said to entice a man into her house. She didn't go out there and drag him in after her! Verse 22 says, "He followed her." That means he walked into her house by his own choice. And yet, if this same scenario played out today, under current modesty standards, the man wouldn't be held responsible because the woman suggested the liaison.

Huh, what?!

Are guys turned on visually? Absolutely. It's often said that women are supposed to be careful of causing men to stumble because of that. Yet the passage they are referring to in 1 Corinthians 8 actually has nothing to do with modesty. It's about food. And it is directed to both men and women regarding eating meat sacrificed to idols. While I think it can apply to many different scenarios, saying it's about modesty and directing it at women is taking the verse out of context.

Are women turned on visually? Absolutely. The idea that they aren't is ridiculous. Show me a teenage girl who hasn't said, "Whoa, he's hot!" God created us to be sexual beings. To love and be loved. To enjoy each others bodies, and actually have fun while doing it! (see the entire book of Song of Solomon if you don't believe me!) Think about it: If only guys were "turned on", we wouldn't have any babies. (Okay, there might be a few, but I know that *I* didn't enjoy being pregnant!)

If modesty is only a woman's responsibility, then rape doesn't exist. It can't. How can a woman prove rape if she was "asking for it by how she dressed?" And what about just plain old lusting after a woman? The same Bible that has 1 Timothy 2:9-10 also says in 1 Corinthians 10:13, "No temptation has overtaken you except what is common to mankind. And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it." Guys, I think your excuses just hopped the first train out of town. Or how about this one from 1 Corinthians 6:18, "Flee from sexual immorality." There are no caveats to that command. No excuses for either sex based on what the other person is wearing.

Do you see where current modesty standards make no sense? There is no mutual personal responsibility!

So it's not that I have an issue with the modesty argument. It's that I have an issue with where the modesty argument stops in Christian culture today. I love my girls, and I want to protect them from sexual predators, teach them to look forward to their one-day-husbands, and show them how to dress stylishly while still leaving a bit of mystery. But I also love my boys. For them, I want them to know that the modesty issue isn't one sided and that they have just as much responsibility to protect themselves and the women around them by guarding their thought life.

Here is what I think the modesty argument SHOULD look like:

Women: Leave a little mystery. It's more fun for everyone that way! And be aware that images of men can turn you on too.

Men: Take responsibility for protecting your own eyes and hearts. And be aware that women are turned on by what they see as well.

Christians: Learn to love and respect each other regardless of the actions of the opposite sex. You ultimately get to have a conversation with God over the choices you make here on earth. Pointing at the other gender isn't going to get you off of the hook. (Hey, it didn't work for Adam and Eve, and they tried it right at the beginning.)

I am disappointed by the way the topic of modesty is handled, and hope that someday, the very people who profess to love everyone will realize that a one-sided modesty argument makes for a population of victimized and silenced women.

What do you think? Is too much responsibility for modesty left at the feet of women? Or do you think the standards are fair?
Don't forget to Pin this post!   

When the Cracks Start Appearing

photo credit: virtually_supine via photopin cc

Lately, I've been holding on for dear life.

A few weeks ago, I found myself starting to get overwhelmed with everything and feeling like I'm stuck in a rut. It's a strange feeling to be battling when the weather has warmed up, the sun is shining (mostly), and the kids are finally able to leave the house.

It's like winter took a wrong turn and ended up in my heart.

I've been trying to put my feelings into words over the last few days and practically had a meltdown last night when my husband came home.

The laundry never ends.

My quadruplets are more opinionated than ever.

And there are only so many ways to cook a boneless, skinless chicken breast. Amen?

Maybe it's because I just don't like snow and ice, so being stuck in the house in January isn't a big issue to me. But now that it's summer, I want some freedom. A vacation. Just a break. A break from the monotony of stepping on cereal pieces, and finding my kids chewing on hair ties. A break from forcing Abby to pick up her toys, and from Ellie whining because someone touched her feet. A break from pulling Elijah off of the toy box so that he won't bang on the TV, and from trying to keep Caleb's hands out of his poop.

Maybe I've been pushing myself too hard lately. I've been trying to keep up with being a mother, a wife, and a writer, and I'm just exhausted from it all. There is nothing wrong with any of those, but maybe I need to carve our a little daily time for myself and just de-stress. No guilt, no shame. Just sit down, read a book, eat a snack, and dream for a bit.

Maybe it's the issues that both sides of our family are struggling with right now that are pulling on my energy. I seem to have fully embraced the verse that says, "weep with those who weep." Some of our family members are walking paths that mirror situations we've been in...yet are worlds different to the point where we can't even comprehend the pain. There is nothing we can do to help but love them. And that is so frustrating. So, so terribly heartbreaking and frustrating.

Or maybe it's all of it weighing down on me. Wanting to help everyone, love everyone, and protect everyone in my life. I'm not even sure where I'm going with this post, or what to do with my feelings. All I know is that sometimes, praying is all that I can do for the people I love in my life.

It's not that I hate motherhood or staying at home with my littles. Quite the contrary. I've never been more content with my place in life. It's just that the cracks are starting to appear from the strain of keeping up with everything.

Typically, I spend my kids’ waking hours caring for them, and their sleeping hours writing. I go 100% all of the time, working on some project or another. Maybe I'm just burnt out?

Yesterday, I took an hour out of my day, ditched the to-do list, and sat on the couch with my fiction book. When Sean got home, I told him that I spent an hour doing nothing productive. He told me that reading is very productive.

I've had people say, "Well, what do you expect? You are a stay-at-home mom with toddler quadruplets. Of course you will be tired!"

But it's not the same tired as just running after them all day. It's a bone weary feeling which seems to suck the energy from the inside out.

The cracks are starting to appear in the way I snap at my kids, lose my patience with their explorations, and just want to bury myself in bed and not come back out for a few weeks.

I'm hanging on for dear life.

photo credit: virtually_supine via photopin cc

Lately, I've been holding on for dear life.

A few weeks ago, I found myself starting to get overwhelmed with everything and feeling like I'm stuck in a rut. It's a strange feeling to be battling when the weather has warmed up, the sun is shining (mostly), and the kids are finally able to leave the house.

It's like winter took a wrong turn and ended up in my heart.

I've been trying to put my feelings into words over the last few days and practically had a meltdown last night when my husband came home.

The laundry never ends.

My quadruplets are more opinionated than ever.

And there are only so many ways to cook a boneless, skinless chicken breast. Amen?

Maybe it's because I just don't like snow and ice, so being stuck in the house in January isn't a big issue to me. But now that it's summer, I want some freedom. A vacation. Just a break. A break from the monotony of stepping on cereal pieces, and finding my kids chewing on hair ties. A break from forcing Abby to pick up her toys, and from Ellie whining because someone touched her feet. A break from pulling Elijah off of the toy box so that he won't bang on the TV, and from trying to keep Caleb's hands out of his poop.

Maybe I've been pushing myself too hard lately. I've been trying to keep up with being a mother, a wife, and a writer, and I'm just exhausted from it all. There is nothing wrong with any of those, but maybe I need to carve our a little daily time for myself and just de-stress. No guilt, no shame. Just sit down, read a book, eat a snack, and dream for a bit.

Maybe it's the issues that both sides of our family are struggling with right now that are pulling on my energy. I seem to have fully embraced the verse that says, "weep with those who weep." Some of our family members are walking paths that mirror situations we've been in...yet are worlds different to the point where we can't even comprehend the pain. There is nothing we can do to help but love them. And that is so frustrating. So, so terribly heartbreaking and frustrating.

Or maybe it's all of it weighing down on me. Wanting to help everyone, love everyone, and protect everyone in my life. I'm not even sure where I'm going with this post, or what to do with my feelings. All I know is that sometimes, praying is all that I can do for the people I love in my life.

It's not that I hate motherhood or staying at home with my littles. Quite the contrary. I've never been more content with my place in life. It's just that the cracks are starting to appear from the strain of keeping up with everything.

Typically, I spend my kids’ waking hours caring for them, and their sleeping hours writing. I go 100% all of the time, working on some project or another. Maybe I'm just burnt out?

Yesterday, I took an hour out of my day, ditched the to-do list, and sat on the couch with my fiction book. When Sean got home, I told him that I spent an hour doing nothing productive. He told me that reading is very productive.

I've had people say, "Well, what do you expect? You are a stay-at-home mom with toddler quadruplets. Of course you will be tired!"

But it's not the same tired as just running after them all day. It's a bone weary feeling which seems to suck the energy from the inside out.

The cracks are starting to appear in the way I snap at my kids, lose my patience with their explorations, and just want to bury myself in bed and not come back out for a few weeks.

I'm hanging on for dear life.

The Toy Box Lesson

"Okay, kids. I'm going to start some wash in the washing machine. I'll be right back."

I walked down to our basement with a load of wash, sorted the laundry, and throw it in as the drum filled with cold water and soap. As much as I hate doing laundry, in a house with six people, it has to be done on a consistent basis or we have a major backup. I can't not do it, even though it requires leaving my kids in the living room for three minutes while I throw it in or rotate it to the dryer. It's like being on a race with myself every time I run down there. My toddlers are by themselves. Ahh!!!

This particular day, I walked back up the stairs thinking that I would start some lunch while my little ones played quietly in the living room. But a little detour happened when I saw this:

Ellie, Caleb, Elijah, and Abby

Actually, that photo isn't accurate by all. When I arrived at the top of the stairs, what I really saw was four two-year-olds, all carefully balanced on the lid of the toy box, touching the screen all over and pushing every button they could find. They know that is a huge no-no at our house. By the time I got to my camera, Ellie was back on the floor and telling the boys they shouldn't be up there, Abby was pretending like she had never been up there at all, and the boys...well, the boys were still punching as many buttons as possible until I got over to them to enforce the rules.

It's a mildly funny story (if you ignore the part about the kids potentially damaging the TV or the TV potentially falling and damaging the kids), but I really took the photo for an entirely different reason.

My kids know exactly what the rules are. We aren't vague at all about the boundaries that we have set up for them. A few of them are: Don't stand on the coffee table. Don't stand on the furniture. Don't play with Mommy's laptop. and Don't stand on the toy box and bang on the TV. We do enforce consequences when they do those things, yet they keep going back to them.

I totally get that they are two-year-olds. Believe me, I am immersed in toddlerhood day in and day out. But I still look at them and think, "I've told you what you can't do. I've made it completely clear. I've swatted you for disobeying. Why in the world do you keep doing that when you know what your Daddy and Mommy want and that consequences will quickly come your direction when we catch you?"

I'll be honest. My relationship with God has suddenly been put in a whole new light. How often do I repeatedly do things that I'm not supposed to do? I imagine God is thinking much the same thing, "Becca, this is pretty black and white. You've already messed this up in the past and suffered consequences because of it. Why would you do it again?"

Oh man. Why do I do that?!

I can't help noticing a similarity in something else though. I still love my kids like crazy. No matter what they do, I have and always will love them. Even if they destroy our TV, fall off of the coffee table and break their arms, and drop Mommy's laptop all in the same day. That won't change. Period.

And the way that God loves me, in all of my imperfections and struggles, doesn't change either. I find so much security and stability in knowing that I can't mess up too much to be unloved by God. And that makes me want to try that much harder to be a woman after His heart.

I hope my kids know that they are loved unconditionally now and forever by Sean and I. And I hope that the way we build and care for the relationships that we have with our kids helps lead them to their own relationships with Jesus someday.

"Okay, kids. I'm going to start some wash in the washing machine. I'll be right back."

I walked down to our basement with a load of wash, sorted the laundry, and throw it in as the drum filled with cold water and soap. As much as I hate doing laundry, in a house with six people, it has to be done on a consistent basis or we have a major backup. I can't not do it, even though it requires leaving my kids in the living room for three minutes while I throw it in or rotate it to the dryer. It's like being on a race with myself every time I run down there. My toddlers are by themselves. Ahh!!!

This particular day, I walked back up the stairs thinking that I would start some lunch while my little ones played quietly in the living room. But a little detour happened when I saw this:

Ellie, Caleb, Elijah, and Abby

Actually, that photo isn't accurate by all. When I arrived at the top of the stairs, what I really saw was four two-year-olds, all carefully balanced on the lid of the toy box, touching the screen all over and pushing every button they could find. They know that is a huge no-no at our house. By the time I got to my camera, Ellie was back on the floor and telling the boys they shouldn't be up there, Abby was pretending like she had never been up there at all, and the boys...well, the boys were still punching as many buttons as possible until I got over to them to enforce the rules.

It's a mildly funny story (if you ignore the part about the kids potentially damaging the TV or the TV potentially falling and damaging the kids), but I really took the photo for an entirely different reason.

My kids know exactly what the rules are. We aren't vague at all about the boundaries that we have set up for them. A few of them are: Don't stand on the coffee table. Don't stand on the furniture. Don't play with Mommy's laptop. and Don't stand on the toy box and bang on the TV. We do enforce consequences when they do those things, yet they keep going back to them.

I totally get that they are two-year-olds. Believe me, I am immersed in toddlerhood day in and day out. But I still look at them and think, "I've told you what you can't do. I've made it completely clear. I've swatted you for disobeying. Why in the world do you keep doing that when you know what your Daddy and Mommy want and that consequences will quickly come your direction when we catch you?"

I'll be honest. My relationship with God has suddenly been put in a whole new light. How often do I repeatedly do things that I'm not supposed to do? I imagine God is thinking much the same thing, "Becca, this is pretty black and white. You've already messed this up in the past and suffered consequences because of it. Why would you do it again?"

Oh man. Why do I do that?!

I can't help noticing a similarity in something else though. I still love my kids like crazy. No matter what they do, I have and always will love them. Even if they destroy our TV, fall off of the coffee table and break their arms, and drop Mommy's laptop all in the same day. That won't change. Period.

And the way that God loves me, in all of my imperfections and struggles, doesn't change either. I find so much security and stability in knowing that I can't mess up too much to be unloved by God. And that makes me want to try that much harder to be a woman after His heart.

I hope my kids know that they are loved unconditionally now and forever by Sean and I. And I hope that the way we build and care for the relationships that we have with our kids helps lead them to their own relationships with Jesus someday.

Letters from Dad: #3

“I could never do what you do.”

We hear that phrase quite a bit in regards to raising quadruplets. Usually we say something like, “You make it work.” But what I really want to say is, “Yeah, you’re right. With that defeatist attitude, there is no way you could do what we do.” There are a ton of books and motivational speakers out there that will tell you a lot of life has to do with your attitude, and it is true. If you look at things with a pessimistic “this isn’t going to work” attitude, then it’s not going work. There are several verses that followers of Christ cling to that at times they seem to forget. Some of them are:

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. –Philippians 4:13

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for a human master. –Colossians 3:23

Why do I mention these? Because nothing is impossible when you rely on God. Yes, I get that sometimes things suck, and they don’t go your way.  And yes, some people have a better life than others and things just don’t make sense.  But here is the thing; it has never been easy for followers of God. 

"Wait, what? No, that’s not true. Everything is supposed to be unicorns and chocolate covered cherries if you are a Christian."

For real? What book were you reading?  The Bible I read doesn’t have a bunch of happy stories in it.  I recently finished reading about the life of David. Here are the highlights that most people know regardless of whether they went to church or not: David killed Goliath, a towering juggernaut, with three smooth stones and then was later king. Here’s what people don’t know: The previous King hunted David and tried to kill him several times, but David wouldn’t fight back because King Saul was God’s anointed. When David was King, he had an affair and then had the husband of his love interest killed. The baby that came of that liaison didn’t live. Later, David’s sons would quarrel amongst themselves and try to take over the kingdom. One son raped his sister; those were David’s own kids!  I mention all of this because David was anointed King as he had a heart after God’s own. So you would think that if his heart was after God’s, he would have always done right and would have lived a charmed life. I’m just not seeing that. I’m sure that there were many perks to being king but there was also a lot of heartache and tragedy that went along with it.

The moral of all of this is that we as human beings have a boat load of excuses of why we can’t do things, but in reality, if we were to humble ourselves before God, He would help us accomplish the plan He has set before us. Admittingly, this is not an easy thing to do. People die. People get sick. Jobs are lost. Homes are lost. Natural disasters occur. It is easy to get swept up in the tragedy that life brings.

Yes, life with 4 babies of the same age has produced a myriad of challenges, but it has also been an experience to fortify our relationship with God. We could never do what we do if it wasn’t for Christ who gives us strength. Some say that God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. I say God gives you chances to work on your faith.

**********************************************

Thank you for continuing to vote for A Beautiful Ruckus in the Top 25 Moms of Multiples Blogging Contest! We are currently in 3rd place!

“I could never do what you do.”

We hear that phrase quite a bit in regards to raising quadruplets. Usually we say something like, “You make it work.” But what I really want to say is, “Yeah, you’re right. With that defeatist attitude, there is no way you could do what we do.” There are a ton of books and motivational speakers out there that will tell you a lot of life has to do with your attitude, and it is true. If you look at things with a pessimistic “this isn’t going to work” attitude, then it’s not going work. There are several verses that followers of Christ cling to that at times they seem to forget. Some of them are:

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. –Philippians 4:13

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for a human master. –Colossians 3:23

Why do I mention these? Because nothing is impossible when you rely on God. Yes, I get that sometimes things suck, and they don’t go your way.  And yes, some people have a better life than others and things just don’t make sense.  But here is the thing; it has never been easy for followers of God. 

"Wait, what? No, that’s not true. Everything is supposed to be unicorns and chocolate covered cherries if you are a Christian."

For real? What book were you reading?  The Bible I read doesn’t have a bunch of happy stories in it.  I recently finished reading about the life of David. Here are the highlights that most people know regardless of whether they went to church or not: David killed Goliath, a towering juggernaut, with three smooth stones and then was later king. Here’s what people don’t know: The previous King hunted David and tried to kill him several times, but David wouldn’t fight back because King Saul was God’s anointed. When David was King, he had an affair and then had the husband of his love interest killed. The baby that came of that liaison didn’t live. Later, David’s sons would quarrel amongst themselves and try to take over the kingdom. One son raped his sister; those were David’s own kids!  I mention all of this because David was anointed King as he had a heart after God’s own. So you would think that if his heart was after God’s, he would have always done right and would have lived a charmed life. I’m just not seeing that. I’m sure that there were many perks to being king but there was also a lot of heartache and tragedy that went along with it.

The moral of all of this is that we as human beings have a boat load of excuses of why we can’t do things, but in reality, if we were to humble ourselves before God, He would help us accomplish the plan He has set before us. Admittingly, this is not an easy thing to do. People die. People get sick. Jobs are lost. Homes are lost. Natural disasters occur. It is easy to get swept up in the tragedy that life brings.

Yes, life with 4 babies of the same age has produced a myriad of challenges, but it has also been an experience to fortify our relationship with God. We could never do what we do if it wasn’t for Christ who gives us strength. Some say that God doesn’t give you more than you can handle. I say God gives you chances to work on your faith.

**********************************************

Thank you for continuing to vote for A Beautiful Ruckus in the Top 25 Moms of Multiples Blogging Contest! We are currently in 3rd place!

No Apologies for the "Non-Mom" Part of Me

Last week, I wrote a post in response to a reader's comment about how I find time to blog with toddler quadruplets. I'll admit, I was very taken aback when I initially read the comment. I mulled it over for a couple of days and looked at the comment from every angle I could come up with. Eventually, I decided that there was a whole other layer to the question that would have been easy to miss at first.

Or maybe it was just a straight question and I'm reading into it. Either way, I'm going to run with my thoughts anyway because I feel like it's important.

The comment was (slightly paraphrased), "I would think that you would have better things to do being a quad mom than to sit on the internet and run a blog." I addressed how I fit blogging into my routine in the previous post, but I think there is something bigger here than simply breaking down when I fit blogging into my day.

I blog mainly for myself. It's a stress reliever and how I relax. If I don't get stuff out on paper, then it builds up inside and may not be too pretty in the end.

I won't apologize for making time for me.

One of my biggest fears when I found out that we had quadruplets on the way was completely losing my identity in my children. I was Rebecca before kids, and I'm still Rebecca today. God made me with certain talents, ticks, character qualities, and areas where I struggle. I'm unique and specially created just like every other human being. Having kids doesn't change that, it only amplifies it.

Here is the truth about me. I am a Type A personality. I like things a certain way. I see issues in black and white. I don't like change. I am not a patient person although having kids has been magical in teaching me to slow down. I have a desire to help my family financially as much as possible by either saving money or bringing in a small amount of income. I have to take a nap at least every other day during this toddler period or I get very, very cranky.  I write because I need to to maintain my sanity.

Motherhood requires so much sacrifice. It requires putting others constantly ahead of ourselves. It means sleepless nights, being thrown up on, and not getting to eat warm dinners because everyone else needs something. But motherhood does not require complete and utter martyrdom to the point where there is nothing left of us when the kids are grown and gone. 

Listen, sweet friends, there is nothing wrong with still growing and enjoying things that you did prior to being a mom. In fact, you might find that taking a moment for yourself will actually make you a better mom. It makes me a better mom because I've had a chance to decompress doing something that I enjoy. Yes, certain things have to be rearranged or given up when motherhood enters the pictures, but I challenge you not to give yourself up and forget who God made you to be!

I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Do you agree or disagree with the idea that we can still maintain part of ourselves while answering the call of motherhood?

Last week, I wrote a post in response to a reader's comment about how I find time to blog with toddler quadruplets. I'll admit, I was very taken aback when I initially read the comment. I mulled it over for a couple of days and looked at the comment from every angle I could come up with. Eventually, I decided that there was a whole other layer to the question that would have been easy to miss at first.

Or maybe it was just a straight question and I'm reading into it. Either way, I'm going to run with my thoughts anyway because I feel like it's important.

The comment was (slightly paraphrased), "I would think that you would have better things to do being a quad mom than to sit on the internet and run a blog." I addressed how I fit blogging into my routine in the previous post, but I think there is something bigger here than simply breaking down when I fit blogging into my day.

I blog mainly for myself. It's a stress reliever and how I relax. If I don't get stuff out on paper, then it builds up inside and may not be too pretty in the end.

I won't apologize for making time for me.

One of my biggest fears when I found out that we had quadruplets on the way was completely losing my identity in my children. I was Rebecca before kids, and I'm still Rebecca today. God made me with certain talents, ticks, character qualities, and areas where I struggle. I'm unique and specially created just like every other human being. Having kids doesn't change that, it only amplifies it.

Here is the truth about me. I am a Type A personality. I like things a certain way. I see issues in black and white. I don't like change. I am not a patient person although having kids has been magical in teaching me to slow down. I have a desire to help my family financially as much as possible by either saving money or bringing in a small amount of income. I have to take a nap at least every other day during this toddler period or I get very, very cranky.  I write because I need to to maintain my sanity.

Motherhood requires so much sacrifice. It requires putting others constantly ahead of ourselves. It means sleepless nights, being thrown up on, and not getting to eat warm dinners because everyone else needs something. But motherhood does not require complete and utter martyrdom to the point where there is nothing left of us when the kids are grown and gone. 

Listen, sweet friends, there is nothing wrong with still growing and enjoying things that you did prior to being a mom. In fact, you might find that taking a moment for yourself will actually make you a better mom. It makes me a better mom because I've had a chance to decompress doing something that I enjoy. Yes, certain things have to be rearranged or given up when motherhood enters the pictures, but I challenge you not to give yourself up and forget who God made you to be!

I would love to hear your thoughts on this. Do you agree or disagree with the idea that we can still maintain part of ourselves while answering the call of motherhood?

Praise You in the Storm

oh. my. word.

We have had one of the most difficult weeks in recent memory, and I'm completely spent. Every available moment this weekend will be spent sleeping since I haven't gotten much of it in the last few days.

Thank you to those who have been praying for us. We haven't said much about what's been going on this week, so we thought we'd fill the rest of you in. We would love it if you would pray for the stuff that is sitting on our shoulders from this week as well!

If nothing else, at least it will be immortalized in the blogsphere. :-)

*****************

One: Early Wednesday morning (as in, a week ago), around 2:30am, Sean had some heartburn and got up to find the Tums. On his way to the bathroom, he stopped to check his text messages. I heard a huge crash come from his office and thought that maybe he had knocked something over. When I didn't hear him start to pick anything up, I got up to go check on him

I found him lying halfway in the closet, completely passed out.

I tried to rouse him, but he wasn't responding. I managed to get behind him (a tricky task with him in the closet) and drag him out so that I could get him flat on the floor. A bag of clothes ready to go to Good Will ended up being the poor guy's pillow.

After a few seconds, he came to and couldn't figure out where he was, what he was doing on the floor, or why I was sitting there.

Okay, let's just be clear. Sean has a heart condition, and I knew it when I married him. He has episodes on occasion when he is super, super sick (like pneumonia, shingles, etc), but that only happens maybe once every year or two.

It has happened twice this summer, with another two times that we've been able to get him on the floor fast enough to keep him from passing out. That's four times total. This summer.

The scary thing about this episode is that he didn't have any warning. Normally he can feel it coming and/or I can see the color leaving his face and we can either get him flat, or break his fall. But this time, he went down without any notice that it was coming. And the only "illness" he had going on was some heartburn. Ugh...not good.

Sean and Abby

Sean will start some testing with a cardiologist in about a week and a half to try to figure out why there is a sudden increase in episodes. If the cardiologist can't find anything, then he will be referred to a neurologist.

Please pray that they will figure out what is going on, or at the very least, that his episodes will become more infrequent. Even though I've seen them happen several times, it still freaks me out!

Two: Two days later, on Friday, we woke up to find that the van had a flat tire. We were planning on buying new tires for it at some point before the end of the year, but it wasn't necessary quite yet.

Since we had to take it in for one new tire, we figured we should probably just bite the bullet and get them all. Then we wouldn't need to go back.

And while they were changing out the tires, they noticed the two back brakes were shot.

So four new tires and two new brakes later...don't you just love car repairs?

Three: On Monday, three days the car issues, I heard running water in the house and couldn't figure out where it was coming from. No toilets were running, the dishwasher and clothes washer were empty, and no one was in the shower, but I couldn't ignore the water sound coming from somewhere in the house.

I finally went down to the basement to take a look around and noticed water was pooling on the floor. I followed the trail back and found a bunch of wet boxes in our storage area.

But I still couldn't find where the water was coming from. Hmm....

So I went outside and looked around. The window well right by the basement window had water in it although it wasn't over the edge of the window. Since I couldn't figure out where else the water was coming from, I bailed it out with a cup.

            And it immediately filled back up again.

                             So I bailed it out a second time.

                                              And it filled back up again.

                                                                                                 Something was clearly wrong.

Long story short, I turned off the water to the house until the plumber and Sean could get home. When the plumber came, he popped a hole in our drywall in the basement thinking the outside spigot was leaking.

Nope.

Then he started digging around where the water was filling up the window well and realized that the main water line to the house had broken.

Uh oh.

He turned off the water at the street and suggested that we dig down to the water line ourselves to save a little money. He also called in a favor to his plumber friend who works on that type of thing to come out first thing in morning so that we could disrupt the kids as little as possible.

Since we didn't have water, we moved the kids over to Sean's parents' house for the night and then Sean went home to start the digging project while I stayed with the kids.

We were so grateful that not only Sean's dad showed up to help, but also four other men from church. We were floored with the way those five guys dropped everything to come over and help us dig. Several hours later, they had the pit about 5 feet deep and found the leaky spot in the pipe.

They also found out that it had already been repaired twice by previous owners (wouldn't it be nice if stuff like this was included in the home disclosure?!)

The next morning, the plumber came and told us that it was galvanized piping rather than copper piping. Any attempt at repairing would probably just put enough pressure on the rest of the piping to pop a hole somewhere else. The whole thing had to be dug up and replaced.

This is what our front yard has looked like for the last couple of days:

I guess it's a good thing that Sean didn't spend time mowing the grass again after the recent rain. Sheesh.

And if you are wondering, yeah. It was insanely expensive.

Last night, they got the water back on, and we were able to bring the kids home after Sean's parents had so graciously allowed us to stay at their house for a couple of days (Ellie kept giving us kisses to tell us how happy she was to be back in her own crib! Lol!)

Four: Unfortunately, last night as I was in the kitchen unloading stuff from our mini-vacation, I suddenly stepped in a puddle.

*sigh*

So now, we have water, but the kitchen sink/garbage disposal, bathroom sink, and outside spigot in the backyard are all leaking. None of them were leaking before. *sigh again*

And we had to call the first plumber again to come look at those. He is supposed to be here in the morning to see if he can fix it or if we now need new faucets in the house.

******************

This week has been rough in every way. I'll admit it, I'm super stressed out from lack of sleep, concern for Sean's health problems, and the financial ramifications of everything dumping on us at once. And I've reached the point where I'm almost afraid to get up in the morning because I don't know what else is going to go wrong that day.

But one thing is for sure: As the situations have continued to pile up on us, I've definitely been praying more.

Much like our pregnancy and NICU stay, these are things that I can't control. I can't prevent them. I can't fix them. I can't see how we are going to get through them.

But we do have a God who can take care of every single one of the issues and situations. He hasn't left us high and dry yet, even with problems raining down on us.

There is a great song that has been running through my head for the last couple of days. Maybe you've heard of it? It's called "Praise You in the Storm" by Casting Crowns. Go listen to it if you get a chance! It's my go-to song when life gets overwhelming.

So I'm choosing to praise God:

• That Sean isn't hospitalized...or had an episode while driving.
• That all of the kids are pretty healthy (although suffering from awful seasonal allergies!).
• That both of our vehicles are running.
• That we have water to our house, and we are home again!
• For friends who showed up to help my husband dig, and friends who listened to me through my worries and tears at our Bible study this week. Friends lighten the burden considerably!
• For the prayers that I know are being said for our family.
• For a God who always takes care of the details, even when I don't know how it's going to happen.

oh. my. word.

We have had one of the most difficult weeks in recent memory, and I'm completely spent. Every available moment this weekend will be spent sleeping since I haven't gotten much of it in the last few days.

Thank you to those who have been praying for us. We haven't said much about what's been going on this week, so we thought we'd fill the rest of you in. We would love it if you would pray for the stuff that is sitting on our shoulders from this week as well!

If nothing else, at least it will be immortalized in the blogsphere. :-)

*****************

One: Early Wednesday morning (as in, a week ago), around 2:30am, Sean had some heartburn and got up to find the Tums. On his way to the bathroom, he stopped to check his text messages. I heard a huge crash come from his office and thought that maybe he had knocked something over. When I didn't hear him start to pick anything up, I got up to go check on him

I found him lying halfway in the closet, completely passed out.

I tried to rouse him, but he wasn't responding. I managed to get behind him (a tricky task with him in the closet) and drag him out so that I could get him flat on the floor. A bag of clothes ready to go to Good Will ended up being the poor guy's pillow.

After a few seconds, he came to and couldn't figure out where he was, what he was doing on the floor, or why I was sitting there.

Okay, let's just be clear. Sean has a heart condition, and I knew it when I married him. He has episodes on occasion when he is super, super sick (like pneumonia, shingles, etc), but that only happens maybe once every year or two.

It has happened twice this summer, with another two times that we've been able to get him on the floor fast enough to keep him from passing out. That's four times total. This summer.

The scary thing about this episode is that he didn't have any warning. Normally he can feel it coming and/or I can see the color leaving his face and we can either get him flat, or break his fall. But this time, he went down without any notice that it was coming. And the only "illness" he had going on was some heartburn. Ugh...not good.

Sean and Abby

Sean will start some testing with a cardiologist in about a week and a half to try to figure out why there is a sudden increase in episodes. If the cardiologist can't find anything, then he will be referred to a neurologist.

Please pray that they will figure out what is going on, or at the very least, that his episodes will become more infrequent. Even though I've seen them happen several times, it still freaks me out!

Two: Two days later, on Friday, we woke up to find that the van had a flat tire. We were planning on buying new tires for it at some point before the end of the year, but it wasn't necessary quite yet.

Since we had to take it in for one new tire, we figured we should probably just bite the bullet and get them all. Then we wouldn't need to go back.

And while they were changing out the tires, they noticed the two back brakes were shot.

So four new tires and two new brakes later...don't you just love car repairs?

Three: On Monday, three days the car issues, I heard running water in the house and couldn't figure out where it was coming from. No toilets were running, the dishwasher and clothes washer were empty, and no one was in the shower, but I couldn't ignore the water sound coming from somewhere in the house.

I finally went down to the basement to take a look around and noticed water was pooling on the floor. I followed the trail back and found a bunch of wet boxes in our storage area.

But I still couldn't find where the water was coming from. Hmm....

So I went outside and looked around. The window well right by the basement window had water in it although it wasn't over the edge of the window. Since I couldn't figure out where else the water was coming from, I bailed it out with a cup.

            And it immediately filled back up again.

                             So I bailed it out a second time.

                                              And it filled back up again.

                                                                                                 Something was clearly wrong.

Long story short, I turned off the water to the house until the plumber and Sean could get home. When the plumber came, he popped a hole in our drywall in the basement thinking the outside spigot was leaking.

Nope.

Then he started digging around where the water was filling up the window well and realized that the main water line to the house had broken.

Uh oh.

He turned off the water at the street and suggested that we dig down to the water line ourselves to save a little money. He also called in a favor to his plumber friend who works on that type of thing to come out first thing in morning so that we could disrupt the kids as little as possible.

Since we didn't have water, we moved the kids over to Sean's parents' house for the night and then Sean went home to start the digging project while I stayed with the kids.

We were so grateful that not only Sean's dad showed up to help, but also four other men from church. We were floored with the way those five guys dropped everything to come over and help us dig. Several hours later, they had the pit about 5 feet deep and found the leaky spot in the pipe.

They also found out that it had already been repaired twice by previous owners (wouldn't it be nice if stuff like this was included in the home disclosure?!)

The next morning, the plumber came and told us that it was galvanized piping rather than copper piping. Any attempt at repairing would probably just put enough pressure on the rest of the piping to pop a hole somewhere else. The whole thing had to be dug up and replaced.

This is what our front yard has looked like for the last couple of days:

I guess it's a good thing that Sean didn't spend time mowing the grass again after the recent rain. Sheesh.

And if you are wondering, yeah. It was insanely expensive.

Last night, they got the water back on, and we were able to bring the kids home after Sean's parents had so graciously allowed us to stay at their house for a couple of days (Ellie kept giving us kisses to tell us how happy she was to be back in her own crib! Lol!)

Four: Unfortunately, last night as I was in the kitchen unloading stuff from our mini-vacation, I suddenly stepped in a puddle.

*sigh*

So now, we have water, but the kitchen sink/garbage disposal, bathroom sink, and outside spigot in the backyard are all leaking. None of them were leaking before. *sigh again*

And we had to call the first plumber again to come look at those. He is supposed to be here in the morning to see if he can fix it or if we now need new faucets in the house.

******************

This week has been rough in every way. I'll admit it, I'm super stressed out from lack of sleep, concern for Sean's health problems, and the financial ramifications of everything dumping on us at once. And I've reached the point where I'm almost afraid to get up in the morning because I don't know what else is going to go wrong that day.

But one thing is for sure: As the situations have continued to pile up on us, I've definitely been praying more.

Much like our pregnancy and NICU stay, these are things that I can't control. I can't prevent them. I can't fix them. I can't see how we are going to get through them.

But we do have a God who can take care of every single one of the issues and situations. He hasn't left us high and dry yet, even with problems raining down on us.

There is a great song that has been running through my head for the last couple of days. Maybe you've heard of it? It's called "Praise You in the Storm" by Casting Crowns. Go listen to it if you get a chance! It's my go-to song when life gets overwhelming.

So I'm choosing to praise God:

• That Sean isn't hospitalized...or had an episode while driving.
• That all of the kids are pretty healthy (although suffering from awful seasonal allergies!).
• That both of our vehicles are running.
• That we have water to our house, and we are home again!
• For friends who showed up to help my husband dig, and friends who listened to me through my worries and tears at our Bible study this week. Friends lighten the burden considerably!
• For the prayers that I know are being said for our family.
• For a God who always takes care of the details, even when I don't know how it's going to happen.

A Very Weary Toddler Mama

I am one very weary toddler mama these days. And I seem to find myself struggling with an increasing level of discouragement coupled with a strange panicky/overwhelmed feeling.

Don't get me wrong, being a Mama is everything I ever wanted to do. I wouldn't trade it for the moon, but I did NOT sign up for this version of motherhood.

Honestly, I just don't feel like I'm cutting it in the mama department.

                                              And I don't feel like I was even given a fair chance of succeeding.

There is an impression that is given off in blogs, on FaceBook, and on the ever addicting, always perfect Pinterest website. An impression of the perfect, pulled together wife and mother.

Good grief. How do those insane mamas manage to raise kids, run a house, keep a husband happy, work, AND come up with those adorable, time-consuming projects?

It just about drives me insane. Because I can't do all of that.

If I'm playing with my kids, the bathrooms aren't clean.

If I'm cleaning my bathrooms, my kids are eating processed food three times a day.

If I'm baking muffins and bagels for my family, my kids are entertaining themselves with VeggieTales.

Nothing and no one is ever clean (because inevitably, someone poops as soon as I start a project).

And then I have these amazing ideas and projects staring back at me when all I want to do it veg in the evenings once the kids are in bed (note that I said "in bed." Not "asleep.")

I should start a garden to save us money.

I really should learn to sew so that I can make adorable pillow case dresses for my girls.

I really, really, should learn how to cook elaborate, whole foods based meals that my family will love, and of course, use coupons to keep our grocery bill at $10 a week.

I really, really, really should start a learning curriculum with my children so that by the age of two they know the entire alphabet, can count to 20, make all of the animal noises, identify their shapes and colors, and read three letter words.

Yeah. Right.

So I'm overwhelmed with life and all I should be doing and being. And I find myself all too often quietly comparing myself to all of these successful mamas who manage to do everything and raise these spectacular, smart, well-rounded children filled with homemade memories.

Where the heck does that leave me? And my intense little group of toddlers?

I have had some people say to me how "impressed" they are with everything I do. And quite honestly, that bugs me to a certain extent.

People, I DO NOT have life all together over here. Not even close.

And then I turn the tables.

From the outside, my blog kinda does make me look halfway pulled together, doesn't it? Do you know why?

Because right before I take a picture of a plate of bagels or something like that, I spend 15 minutes making a huge pile on one of the table of every random object you can imagine. Then I take about ten photos making sure my pile is just out of the camera frame and delete anything that shows crumbs. You know, the crumbs from dinner two nights ago.

Right before a visitor or my in-laws come over, I panic and either tell Sean to go wipe down the bathroom or I do. Oh, and sweep the stairs. And fold the kids' pajamas that are still strewn all over the living room. And wipe down those pesky counters! I even try to change out of the gym shorts and t-shirts that have become my daily uniform and slap some makeup on my face.

When I feel like I just don't cut it, I try to remind myself that all of those clever mamas only let me see what they want me to see....just like I only let you see what I want you to see.

Don't believe a word (or picture) of it!

Yeah, those projects are awesome and certainly worth it! But I think my kids will still have memories even if I don't make them pillow case dresses, or cook eggs on a hot sidewalk with them. (seriously, who wants to be outside if it's really hot enough to cook an egg?!)

You know what is enough though? God. Thank goodness, He can pick up the sorry slack that I create as a Mama.

As I sit here and realize that toddlerhood is a whole other ballgame, I also realize that I just simply do not have what it takes to mother them. My patience does have a limit, as does my energy.. All I can do is choose to do the things that I feel benefit my family the most, and let the others slide.

And when I feel tiny, unproductive, clueless, and completely overrun by children (literally!), it would serve me well to remember that God knows what my children need even when I can't be there to physically meet that need myself.

I do the best I can, but God makes up the difference.

Honestly, I forget far too often just how big God is and allow the discouragement to creep in. But in the moments that I do remember that I don't have to be everything for my children, that does take quite a bit of pressure off.

I am one very weary toddler mama these days. And I seem to find myself struggling with an increasing level of discouragement coupled with a strange panicky/overwhelmed feeling.

Don't get me wrong, being a Mama is everything I ever wanted to do. I wouldn't trade it for the moon, but I did NOT sign up for this version of motherhood.

Honestly, I just don't feel like I'm cutting it in the mama department.

                                              And I don't feel like I was even given a fair chance of succeeding.

There is an impression that is given off in blogs, on FaceBook, and on the ever addicting, always perfect Pinterest website. An impression of the perfect, pulled together wife and mother.

Good grief. How do those insane mamas manage to raise kids, run a house, keep a husband happy, work, AND come up with those adorable, time-consuming projects?

It just about drives me insane. Because I can't do all of that.

If I'm playing with my kids, the bathrooms aren't clean.

If I'm cleaning my bathrooms, my kids are eating processed food three times a day.

If I'm baking muffins and bagels for my family, my kids are entertaining themselves with VeggieTales.

Nothing and no one is ever clean (because inevitably, someone poops as soon as I start a project).

And then I have these amazing ideas and projects staring back at me when all I want to do it veg in the evenings once the kids are in bed (note that I said "in bed." Not "asleep.")

I should start a garden to save us money.

I really should learn to sew so that I can make adorable pillow case dresses for my girls.

I really, really, should learn how to cook elaborate, whole foods based meals that my family will love, and of course, use coupons to keep our grocery bill at $10 a week.

I really, really, really should start a learning curriculum with my children so that by the age of two they know the entire alphabet, can count to 20, make all of the animal noises, identify their shapes and colors, and read three letter words.

Yeah. Right.

So I'm overwhelmed with life and all I should be doing and being. And I find myself all too often quietly comparing myself to all of these successful mamas who manage to do everything and raise these spectacular, smart, well-rounded children filled with homemade memories.

Where the heck does that leave me? And my intense little group of toddlers?

I have had some people say to me how "impressed" they are with everything I do. And quite honestly, that bugs me to a certain extent.

People, I DO NOT have life all together over here. Not even close.

And then I turn the tables.

From the outside, my blog kinda does make me look halfway pulled together, doesn't it? Do you know why?

Because right before I take a picture of a plate of bagels or something like that, I spend 15 minutes making a huge pile on one of the table of every random object you can imagine. Then I take about ten photos making sure my pile is just out of the camera frame and delete anything that shows crumbs. You know, the crumbs from dinner two nights ago.

Right before a visitor or my in-laws come over, I panic and either tell Sean to go wipe down the bathroom or I do. Oh, and sweep the stairs. And fold the kids' pajamas that are still strewn all over the living room. And wipe down those pesky counters! I even try to change out of the gym shorts and t-shirts that have become my daily uniform and slap some makeup on my face.

When I feel like I just don't cut it, I try to remind myself that all of those clever mamas only let me see what they want me to see....just like I only let you see what I want you to see.

Don't believe a word (or picture) of it!

Yeah, those projects are awesome and certainly worth it! But I think my kids will still have memories even if I don't make them pillow case dresses, or cook eggs on a hot sidewalk with them. (seriously, who wants to be outside if it's really hot enough to cook an egg?!)

You know what is enough though? God. Thank goodness, He can pick up the sorry slack that I create as a Mama.

As I sit here and realize that toddlerhood is a whole other ballgame, I also realize that I just simply do not have what it takes to mother them. My patience does have a limit, as does my energy.. All I can do is choose to do the things that I feel benefit my family the most, and let the others slide.

And when I feel tiny, unproductive, clueless, and completely overrun by children (literally!), it would serve me well to remember that God knows what my children need even when I can't be there to physically meet that need myself.

I do the best I can, but God makes up the difference.

Honestly, I forget far too often just how big God is and allow the discouragement to creep in. But in the moments that I do remember that I don't have to be everything for my children, that does take quite a bit of pressure off.

A Simple Bottle of Water

When I started this blog, I really didn't see our mail carrier making regular appearances on it.

That's cool though. I can roll with it!

Many of you will recall that we initially met our mail carrier during a tornado scare just after the babies came home. (I've had a lot of people tell me that is one of the most memorable posts I've ever written!)! We haven't talked to him much since then, but we did let him know that he can always come hide out in our basement with us during severe weather.

Last summer, I also tried to keep an eye out and hand him a bottle of water when he came by on his rounds. Since the babies and I were literally living in our living room, it wasn't too hard to catch him.

This summer, it's been a little different. With the babies walking (and climbing!) everywhere, I'm constantly on the move and often times don't see him come by. Unfortunately, we have also been enduring record breaking temperatures for the past few weeks with severe drought conditions that are affecting every one and everything. We've even hit 108 degrees a few times! Ouch! And I haven't been able to catch him to hand him some water.

Then last week, I had an idea.

I started putting out a small cooler next to our mailbox with an ice pack and cold bottle of water in it. I stuck a post-it note inside the mailbox door, so when our mail carrier opened it, he would know that the cooler was there for him.

Now I don't need to watch for him, and he still gets water on these horribly hot days.

This morning, I almost missed him!

We had our therapy session today, and I was distracted with that. I glanced up for a second, saw him coming around, and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator so that I could hand it to him when he handed me our mail.

He thanked me for his daily water bottle and then told me some really sad news.

Yesterday, one of the mail carriers in Independence (about 20 minutes from our house) was found lying in a yard. That carrier had asked management if he could go home early because he wasn't feeling well and instead they sent him out with an additional 2 hours of overtime. He never returned. When he was found unconscious in a yard, they took him to a hospital where he passed away at the age of 57.

They think the extreme heat played a large part in his death.

After telling me that, our mail carrier said he appreciated it when people on his route looked out for his well being. Especially since he parks his truck and walks our neighborhood on foot. He isn't sitting in air conditioning or has easy access to water mid-route.

It's hard for me to go and participate in community activities or volunteer to help with organizations, although I wish I could! But a cold bottle of water is perhaps a bigger witness to our mail carrier than a Bible track would ever be. He sees what we get in the mail on a daily basis. Our bills, magazines, free samples, and newsletters from Christian organizations. He also sees the the large cross on our front door that says, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Next summer, my kids will be taking the bottle of water and putting it out for him. We are told to be a witness wherever we are. So my kids and I are being a witness at the end of our front porch with a bottle of water.

Hopefully someday, when the drought is over, and heat cools off, he replaces our measly little bit of water  with something more lasting. The Living Water will last him a lot longer than anything we can fit in our cooler.

Maybe your mail carrier would appreciate a bottle of water too.

When I started this blog, I really didn't see our mail carrier making regular appearances on it.

That's cool though. I can roll with it!

Many of you will recall that we initially met our mail carrier during a tornado scare just after the babies came home. (I've had a lot of people tell me that is one of the most memorable posts I've ever written!)! We haven't talked to him much since then, but we did let him know that he can always come hide out in our basement with us during severe weather.

Last summer, I also tried to keep an eye out and hand him a bottle of water when he came by on his rounds. Since the babies and I were literally living in our living room, it wasn't too hard to catch him.

This summer, it's been a little different. With the babies walking (and climbing!) everywhere, I'm constantly on the move and often times don't see him come by. Unfortunately, we have also been enduring record breaking temperatures for the past few weeks with severe drought conditions that are affecting every one and everything. We've even hit 108 degrees a few times! Ouch! And I haven't been able to catch him to hand him some water.

Then last week, I had an idea.

I started putting out a small cooler next to our mailbox with an ice pack and cold bottle of water in it. I stuck a post-it note inside the mailbox door, so when our mail carrier opened it, he would know that the cooler was there for him.

Now I don't need to watch for him, and he still gets water on these horribly hot days.

This morning, I almost missed him!

We had our therapy session today, and I was distracted with that. I glanced up for a second, saw him coming around, and grabbed a bottle of water out of the refrigerator so that I could hand it to him when he handed me our mail.

He thanked me for his daily water bottle and then told me some really sad news.

Yesterday, one of the mail carriers in Independence (about 20 minutes from our house) was found lying in a yard. That carrier had asked management if he could go home early because he wasn't feeling well and instead they sent him out with an additional 2 hours of overtime. He never returned. When he was found unconscious in a yard, they took him to a hospital where he passed away at the age of 57.

They think the extreme heat played a large part in his death.

After telling me that, our mail carrier said he appreciated it when people on his route looked out for his well being. Especially since he parks his truck and walks our neighborhood on foot. He isn't sitting in air conditioning or has easy access to water mid-route.

It's hard for me to go and participate in community activities or volunteer to help with organizations, although I wish I could! But a cold bottle of water is perhaps a bigger witness to our mail carrier than a Bible track would ever be. He sees what we get in the mail on a daily basis. Our bills, magazines, free samples, and newsletters from Christian organizations. He also sees the the large cross on our front door that says, "As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord."

Next summer, my kids will be taking the bottle of water and putting it out for him. We are told to be a witness wherever we are. So my kids and I are being a witness at the end of our front porch with a bottle of water.

Hopefully someday, when the drought is over, and heat cools off, he replaces our measly little bit of water  with something more lasting. The Living Water will last him a lot longer than anything we can fit in our cooler.

Maybe your mail carrier would appreciate a bottle of water too.