I would like to take this opportunity to talk to any of the young women who read my blog and felt inspired by what I've written. This will be my last post.
I started this blog as a lark. I write short stories in my spare time and I was snowed in. Hence, "In Loving Submission." If you are a fundie to whom my little blurb sounded like something you wanted to read, I feel for you. I really do. I'm stopping the joke because real people are getting really upset and I think it's time to make myself known.
Yes, it's a joke. It's an over the top joke. But the sentiment is posted in countless blogs all over the internet. There are actually women who subscribe to this lifestyle in some way: submissive, modest, purity, feminine arts, etc. There are countless women who have been kept undereducated, unskilled, under a man's thumb, whether it be their father or their husband. They believe their sole purpose is to birth a multitude of little children to "train up in the Lord," i.e. teach girls to perpetuate the same cycle over and over again and teach little boys they will one day have dominion over the women in their lives.
There is no Prince Charming. You are not princesses. You do not live in a fairy tale. There are only men and woman who are trying the best they can to live good lives. What you should want is not a man to rescue you from spinsterhood or someone to protect you but you should want a man who values your mind and soul. You should want a man who wants you to be more than a submissive doormat. Real men to do not need to rule the roost, they need a partner. A well-educated, intelligent, outspoken partner who is interested in building a life with someone, hand in hand. Real men are not threatened by women who have minds of their own, who are intelligent and capable.
Did you really think it was appropriate for a husband to "correct" his wife? Correct her spelling, yes, correct her behavior, no. Where does this come from??? A husband and wife should be partners. Yes, they should disagree and talk and come to compromises. Under no circumstances should the wife be a child to be corrected. A husband is NOT a substitute father.
Get an education. There are plenty of online programs that you can do between breastfeeding and cooking. Your husband may not be around forever to support you and if you have a multitude of children you owe it to them to be able to support them. There is no excuse for having children YOU can't support. The most loving thing you can do for your children is to have an education which does NOT include "Biblical Science" but instead includes critical thought.
Get on the pill. I don't care what Michelle Duggar says. It doesn't cause abortions. Use your common sense. The female body is not supposed to birth child after child after child. Respect your body enough to give it a break. Mother the children you have.
In that vein, quit foisting your motherly duties off onto your daughters. You bred them, you raise them. I don't care if Rebekah or Ruth just loves babies; these are not their babies. Their babies are way into the future. Let your daughters get an education, let them think, breathe, and develop their own personalities. No matter what you do you may have a daughter who doesn't really want to be a mother and you know what? That's okay! Not every woman is destined to have twelve children in a shoebox of a house.
More importantly, figure out who you are and what you want - don't rely on what you've been taught to guide you. The most important reason to have higher education is to develop critical thought. That one trait will save you time and time again in the real world.
In case anyone is interested, I'm a single atheist. I wrote every single one of these posts in a single day. I simply regurgitated every single bromide of fundie thought I knew. Which only proves that none of you fundies think for yourself, you simply parrot the party line.
I do want to apologize to my Catholic readers. I was pretty sure that you were all in on the joke so I played along. If anyone was truly offended, I apologize. I have the utmost respect for your faith.
Big props to my peeps at Free Jinger for figuring it out so quickly and then joining in the fun by playing along. I hope it was entertaining - I thought it might be a fun diversion for us.
In fundie fun,
Gizmola
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
Monday, January 11, 2010
Beautiful Modesty
My dear husband and I believe very strongly in modesty. We were both raised to respect our bodies and souls and hearts. To do that we were very careful in what we presented to the outside world and to others. Form fitting clothes, jeans, low cut shirts were not even an option for me growing up. How grateful I am to my loving parents for teaching me the importance of dressing for the glory of the Lord instead of the glory of teenage hormones! I was protected at all times from the glances of others. When I was noticed it was for my countenance, respect for my femininity and admiration for my modesty. Which is, of course the point of dressing modestly. No Christian woman wants to be noticed for the size of her bosom or the length of her legs. She is a precious jewel in her father's crown and should be clothed in such a way as to bring honor to him and respect for herself.
I have only ever worn dresses. Exclusively. Yes, it can be done. There is nothing that requires pants. I would never dare wear clothes meant for a man. Even if it was a simple top that covered my elbows and collarbones and a skirt to mid-calf, it was enough to remind me that my body was meant only for the one God intended for me and for the glory of God. My body, as a woman, was shaped by God's loving hand to create a place of beauty for my husband so we could create the family God had chosen for us. There is no other purpose to my body but to glorify God in creating and nuturing my family.
My husband also dressed modestly. No untucked shirts or baggy jeans. He was always freshly pressed and clothed in simple clothes to denote his committment to God's work in his life. He wore jeans only when doing dirty household chores but otherwise we dressed as a professional man of honor.
We teach our daughters and sons these same principles. Yes, we dress our daughters exclusively in dresses, not pants. How can small children adequately play? That makes me laugh because for centuries girls wore dresses. It's only been in the last fifty years that women started wearing pants. And look what's happened to the family in the last fifty years! Women have tried to usurp man's place in the world and destroy our family system. How sad!
Our sons wear polos or button down shirts at all times. Tucked in and clean. It is a source of pride to have beautiful children, well groomed and lovely. It reminds me that these are precious souls who need to be treated well and with love. It is a mark of my love for them and my glorifying what God has entrusted in me to have children that look cared for.
When anyone eschews modesty they do so to a base need for attention. That tells me that they are insecure and out of touch with their Lord. It breaks my heart when I see girls my daughter's age walking around in stretchy pants and skimpy shirts. I want to cry. Don't their fathers want their daughters protected from prying eyes and men who will see them as only sexual beings? It's well documented that girls who are allowed to dress provactively will be sexually active, will break from their families, end up in drugs and alcohol and without any sense of their relationship with God. What parent would want that?
I admit, it's hard to find clothing for little girls that glorify their femininity without displaying their bodies. Even for tiny, little, precious, innocent little girls it's hard to find clothes that speak to their honor and purity. Suggestive slogans and tight shirts, short skirts and low rise pants are all de rigeur these days. What happened to lovely clothes with ribbons and bows, of light fabrics and flowery prints? What happened to little girls looking like little girls?
I make a lot of my daughters' clothes. It's the only way I know of making sure they are dressed to not only our standards but God's standards as well. Satin ribbons around a white dotted swiss dress make a much more beautiful statement. That says that the girl is a protected, pure daugher of God. What can be more beautiful than that?
I have only ever worn dresses. Exclusively. Yes, it can be done. There is nothing that requires pants. I would never dare wear clothes meant for a man. Even if it was a simple top that covered my elbows and collarbones and a skirt to mid-calf, it was enough to remind me that my body was meant only for the one God intended for me and for the glory of God. My body, as a woman, was shaped by God's loving hand to create a place of beauty for my husband so we could create the family God had chosen for us. There is no other purpose to my body but to glorify God in creating and nuturing my family.
My husband also dressed modestly. No untucked shirts or baggy jeans. He was always freshly pressed and clothed in simple clothes to denote his committment to God's work in his life. He wore jeans only when doing dirty household chores but otherwise we dressed as a professional man of honor.
We teach our daughters and sons these same principles. Yes, we dress our daughters exclusively in dresses, not pants. How can small children adequately play? That makes me laugh because for centuries girls wore dresses. It's only been in the last fifty years that women started wearing pants. And look what's happened to the family in the last fifty years! Women have tried to usurp man's place in the world and destroy our family system. How sad!
Our sons wear polos or button down shirts at all times. Tucked in and clean. It is a source of pride to have beautiful children, well groomed and lovely. It reminds me that these are precious souls who need to be treated well and with love. It is a mark of my love for them and my glorifying what God has entrusted in me to have children that look cared for.
When anyone eschews modesty they do so to a base need for attention. That tells me that they are insecure and out of touch with their Lord. It breaks my heart when I see girls my daughter's age walking around in stretchy pants and skimpy shirts. I want to cry. Don't their fathers want their daughters protected from prying eyes and men who will see them as only sexual beings? It's well documented that girls who are allowed to dress provactively will be sexually active, will break from their families, end up in drugs and alcohol and without any sense of their relationship with God. What parent would want that?
I admit, it's hard to find clothing for little girls that glorify their femininity without displaying their bodies. Even for tiny, little, precious, innocent little girls it's hard to find clothes that speak to their honor and purity. Suggestive slogans and tight shirts, short skirts and low rise pants are all de rigeur these days. What happened to lovely clothes with ribbons and bows, of light fabrics and flowery prints? What happened to little girls looking like little girls?
I make a lot of my daughters' clothes. It's the only way I know of making sure they are dressed to not only our standards but God's standards as well. Satin ribbons around a white dotted swiss dress make a much more beautiful statement. That says that the girl is a protected, pure daugher of God. What can be more beautiful than that?
God's Choice
While our favorite family activity is Bible study, sometimes we like to spend time with a movie. We all snuggle on the couch around Daddy and pop popcorn and turn down the lights. We all enjoy this time together, especially since our busy schedules allow for it once in a while. It is a treat.
The only problem is that there are so few good movies for families. Especially ones for little children. Mommy and Daddy might be able to enjoy "Fireproof" or the "Left Behind" series, but those aren't good for little ones. We do have a collection of the old Disney movies and that often suffices but picking new movies is difficult.
We had wanted to wach "Ratatouille" but after my husband previewed it we decided against it. Apparently, there's a female chef who glorifies female career obsession and we don't want to model that to our daughters.
"Beauty and the Beast" was one my daughter saw at the home of our friends. After we found out the movie depicted a girl who lived with a man outside of Holy Wedlock we had sharp words for those "friends." They insisted it was an innocent Disney movie but we made sure that they understood our daughter was too precious for any movie that would turn her from her true path.
Some movies we do not watch after having previewing them:
"It Happened One Night" - unmarried man and woman share a hotel room
"King and I" - we don't feel Yul Brenner's outfits are modest enough
"A Little Mermaid" - the daughter leaves the father's protection to chase after a man
"My Fair Lady" - a woman lives in a house with two men and her father is not godly
"Peter Pan" - children run away from home
Some movies we do approve of:
"Greatest Heroes and Legends: Life of Jesus"
"Greatest Heroes and Legends: Daniel in the Lions Den"
"Veggie Tales"
"GodRocks Bible Toons"
"Life With Jesus"
Of course, there are other movies Mommy and Daddy can watch without the children but we really don't like doing anything without our children. We have seen some of these multiple times but they always reveal new things to us and remind us of the most important thing: God and Jesus! Glory to the highest!
The only problem is that there are so few good movies for families. Especially ones for little children. Mommy and Daddy might be able to enjoy "Fireproof" or the "Left Behind" series, but those aren't good for little ones. We do have a collection of the old Disney movies and that often suffices but picking new movies is difficult.
We had wanted to wach "Ratatouille" but after my husband previewed it we decided against it. Apparently, there's a female chef who glorifies female career obsession and we don't want to model that to our daughters.
"Beauty and the Beast" was one my daughter saw at the home of our friends. After we found out the movie depicted a girl who lived with a man outside of Holy Wedlock we had sharp words for those "friends." They insisted it was an innocent Disney movie but we made sure that they understood our daughter was too precious for any movie that would turn her from her true path.
Some movies we do not watch after having previewing them:
"It Happened One Night" - unmarried man and woman share a hotel room
"King and I" - we don't feel Yul Brenner's outfits are modest enough
"A Little Mermaid" - the daughter leaves the father's protection to chase after a man
"My Fair Lady" - a woman lives in a house with two men and her father is not godly
"Peter Pan" - children run away from home
Some movies we do approve of:
"Greatest Heroes and Legends: Life of Jesus"
"Greatest Heroes and Legends: Daniel in the Lions Den"
"Veggie Tales"
"GodRocks Bible Toons"
"Life With Jesus"
Of course, there are other movies Mommy and Daddy can watch without the children but we really don't like doing anything without our children. We have seen some of these multiple times but they always reveal new things to us and remind us of the most important thing: God and Jesus! Glory to the highest!
Loving Correction
In any family, no matter how committed they are to living by God's will, problems arise. A simple discussion about which toy to play with becomes heated. A child, no matter how well trained, will seek to push boundaries by doing something that's been forbidden. So how do we seek to mold the correct behaviors and punish for bad behaviors?
First of all, we don't use the word punish. Punish means we're doing something punitive, almost revenge-like. That only makes the child defensive and they close their hearts. Instead, we talk about correction. Correction can be though gentle words to guide them back to the correct path. It can be a time out where the child is isolated so they can think of what's transpired until they can return with real remorse and contrition. Or, it can be corporeal.
Yes, we spank our children. Or rather, we use corporeal training. This is not done to hurt the child. It is not done to make the child suffer. It's done to bend the willfull child to move their sinful spirit back to the fold of love and in God's grace. What do we use? We simply use our hand. And more often than not it's a quick swat to ensure they know this is a serious matter, one that must be dealt with immediately. We use corporeal training when we want their complete, immediate attention. When they reach for a hot pot, run towards the road or hurt a sibling. We usually give a swat or two on the thigh. Bums are sexual areas and not appropriate to touch. So we give a hard, sharp swat on the thigh. Granted, it's been very rare that we've had to do this but believe me, a quick, stinging swat will get their attention even more quickly than can words.
Plus, it is shameful. Do we want our children to live in shame? No, we want them confident and proud of their relationship with God and proud of being in our loving family. But when they do something very dangerous or very sinful we want them to be shamed. Shame teaches, it reminds us that this is not only wrong behavior but it is hurtful behavior and it cannot continue. A swift swat and a sense of deep shame teaches better than anything at times.
No matter if it is a swat or a time out or just gentle words, once Daddy arrives home it is time to take the offending child aside for more discussion. It can be a simple argument over toys or a refusal to do chores cheerfully. In any case, Daddy talks with the child, discusses the problem and works to change their heart attitudes. By the end of the night the child invariably apologizes and begs for forgiveness. Always, we encourage our children to turn only to God for forgiveness. It is only through his Son, Jesus Christ that we can gain any forgiveness.
What happens when Mommy misbehaves? Daddy corrects her. Yes, Mommy is held to the same rules as the children. As the head of the household Daddy is responsbile for the spiritual well being of EVERYONE in the household. How does this work? It depends on the infraction. Imagine that a note of nagging enters Mommy's voice. Daddy can give Mommy a look that simply reminds her that he is the authority. Most of the time Mommy remembers her place and acquieses. If she should continue Mommy might get a time out where she can reflect for a moment on what is happening, take a moment for prayer, beg God for forgiveness in her transgression and then rejoin her family in joy and gratitude. Does Daddy ever swat Mommy? Well, no, but Mommy also doesn't run into the road! Mommy correction is always to remind her to find her way back to her path as the spouse who is under the authority of the spiritual head of the home, Daddy.
Correction is an act of love. It is to ensure safety and security of the family. And that burden rests on the shoulders of Daddy at all times. At no time, no matter what he is doing does Daddy not remember and think of the safety of his family. His greatest responsibility is to take care of his family and lovingly correcting all members to remind them of their duty to family, and more importantly, God is his most important task. I am proud of my dear husband for being able to recognize when correction is needed and to deal with it fairly and justly. That's why I am so grateful and blessed to be under his protection.
First of all, we don't use the word punish. Punish means we're doing something punitive, almost revenge-like. That only makes the child defensive and they close their hearts. Instead, we talk about correction. Correction can be though gentle words to guide them back to the correct path. It can be a time out where the child is isolated so they can think of what's transpired until they can return with real remorse and contrition. Or, it can be corporeal.
Yes, we spank our children. Or rather, we use corporeal training. This is not done to hurt the child. It is not done to make the child suffer. It's done to bend the willfull child to move their sinful spirit back to the fold of love and in God's grace. What do we use? We simply use our hand. And more often than not it's a quick swat to ensure they know this is a serious matter, one that must be dealt with immediately. We use corporeal training when we want their complete, immediate attention. When they reach for a hot pot, run towards the road or hurt a sibling. We usually give a swat or two on the thigh. Bums are sexual areas and not appropriate to touch. So we give a hard, sharp swat on the thigh. Granted, it's been very rare that we've had to do this but believe me, a quick, stinging swat will get their attention even more quickly than can words.
Plus, it is shameful. Do we want our children to live in shame? No, we want them confident and proud of their relationship with God and proud of being in our loving family. But when they do something very dangerous or very sinful we want them to be shamed. Shame teaches, it reminds us that this is not only wrong behavior but it is hurtful behavior and it cannot continue. A swift swat and a sense of deep shame teaches better than anything at times.
No matter if it is a swat or a time out or just gentle words, once Daddy arrives home it is time to take the offending child aside for more discussion. It can be a simple argument over toys or a refusal to do chores cheerfully. In any case, Daddy talks with the child, discusses the problem and works to change their heart attitudes. By the end of the night the child invariably apologizes and begs for forgiveness. Always, we encourage our children to turn only to God for forgiveness. It is only through his Son, Jesus Christ that we can gain any forgiveness.
What happens when Mommy misbehaves? Daddy corrects her. Yes, Mommy is held to the same rules as the children. As the head of the household Daddy is responsbile for the spiritual well being of EVERYONE in the household. How does this work? It depends on the infraction. Imagine that a note of nagging enters Mommy's voice. Daddy can give Mommy a look that simply reminds her that he is the authority. Most of the time Mommy remembers her place and acquieses. If she should continue Mommy might get a time out where she can reflect for a moment on what is happening, take a moment for prayer, beg God for forgiveness in her transgression and then rejoin her family in joy and gratitude. Does Daddy ever swat Mommy? Well, no, but Mommy also doesn't run into the road! Mommy correction is always to remind her to find her way back to her path as the spouse who is under the authority of the spiritual head of the home, Daddy.
Correction is an act of love. It is to ensure safety and security of the family. And that burden rests on the shoulders of Daddy at all times. At no time, no matter what he is doing does Daddy not remember and think of the safety of his family. His greatest responsibility is to take care of his family and lovingly correcting all members to remind them of their duty to family, and more importantly, God is his most important task. I am proud of my dear husband for being able to recognize when correction is needed and to deal with it fairly and justly. That's why I am so grateful and blessed to be under his protection.
Quiverfull or Full of Love??
Many people have asked me if we are a Quiverfull family. I am not even sure what that means! Is it a movement or a cult? Bottom line: we know of only one thing: God. The reason we have seven children and will accept whatever number of blessings God plans for us is because my dear husband and I share one goal and base our life on only one principle: God comes first. God's will is the only path we're willing to take in life. If it is not willed by God we do not do it. That's the only way we judge anything in our lives. We pray and pray and pray some more. But in the end, we rely solely on God. We relied on Him to guide us to each other. We relied on His timing on marrying. We relied on Him to guide us to my husband's ministry. There is nothing in our lives where we take the lead and decide "this is what WE want." It is ONLY "what God wants."
So, if we trust God with our marriage, our vocations, our ministry, our hearts, our lives why would we NOT trust Him with our family? Very simple. We trust God with everything in our life so we trust Him in determing the children that should be ours. We consider our children to be on loan from God. They have been created long before they were sent to us. My womb has just been the vessel for those souls God wishes to be placed on this earth. Therefore, only God knows when and how to open and close my womb.
While my father was careful to discuss this with my intended long before I even entered the picture, I never considered another path. I had grown up with many siblings and knew the joy of a large family. At no time did I consider whether I would want to limit the number of my children. In fact, as far as I can remember when I've thought of a woman determing that she'd limit the number of beautiful souls God wishes on this earth I become not only saddened but angry. Believe me, I have great passion for both God and children, so having a large family is perfect for me!
What would I have done if Issac had wanted a small family, if he had wanted me to learn about and use some sort of birth control? Well, suffice to say we'd not have been married because our heart attitudes would not have been in sync. God knows what He does when He matches up two people and He would not have sent my beloved to me if our hearts were not already knit together in His Kingdom. It would never occur to my dear husband to ask me to use some sort of birth control that could possibly (and probably) result in a spontaneous abortion than he would ask me to work outside the home. It's a non-issue in our life.
Unfortunately, even good Christian women have been led astray by the world that tells them they can circumvent God's will and decide on their own how many children they should bring into this world. Due to their ignorance and their sinful nature they have killed baby after baby. Every birth control method kills a baby. It's just that simple.
The Pill. Supposedly a wonderful invention that "freed" women has done more damage to the family than even divorce! The Pill lets a baby exist and then kills it! It causes abortions. It makes the womb inhospitable for the baby that's been created. No matter what anyone tells you, the moment the sperm and egg meet a baby exists! If that baby is flushed from a woman's womb then it is pure murder. No matter what. The IUD does the same thing. And shots and other pills...it's all murder because it prevents the baby from taking shelter in his/her rightful home: the mommy's womb.
What about condoms? I will answer in one word: Onan. That's all you need to know. It's wrong to spill a man's seed without the intention of making a baby. Why else would you want to? It is just a way to make it okay for people to behave like animals and removes God and his perfect plan from their lives, their hearts and their future families.
Families. That's what is lost when evil women decide to forgo God's gifts. They destroy families. They refuse their families. I can watch my son playing with his little brother, watch my oldest daughter work on her needlepoint or play with the baby and think to myself, "This is what women are killing: their families." I will never understand that.
What about methods where the Mommy and Daddy only come together in love when the Mommy is not producing eggs? It's still a rejection of God's blessings. It is still saying that a man and wife know better than God. And no one knows God better than he does. Only He knows his plan for our lives and we can only follow his will. His will is for us to have children, to create families and raise them to serve his will. To decide that a family is not good enough for a couple is to be in direct conflict with the Lord. What good can come of that?
I will not address abortion. Very simply, it is murder. Always, at all times. Murdeer. End of discussion.
So my beloved husband and I have many children because that's what God has determined for our family. We do nothing but indulge in our love and out of that love God sends us souls to protect and raise and train to glorify the Lord. We say that we are not Quiverfull; we are Full of Love!
So, if we trust God with our marriage, our vocations, our ministry, our hearts, our lives why would we NOT trust Him with our family? Very simple. We trust God with everything in our life so we trust Him in determing the children that should be ours. We consider our children to be on loan from God. They have been created long before they were sent to us. My womb has just been the vessel for those souls God wishes to be placed on this earth. Therefore, only God knows when and how to open and close my womb.
While my father was careful to discuss this with my intended long before I even entered the picture, I never considered another path. I had grown up with many siblings and knew the joy of a large family. At no time did I consider whether I would want to limit the number of my children. In fact, as far as I can remember when I've thought of a woman determing that she'd limit the number of beautiful souls God wishes on this earth I become not only saddened but angry. Believe me, I have great passion for both God and children, so having a large family is perfect for me!
What would I have done if Issac had wanted a small family, if he had wanted me to learn about and use some sort of birth control? Well, suffice to say we'd not have been married because our heart attitudes would not have been in sync. God knows what He does when He matches up two people and He would not have sent my beloved to me if our hearts were not already knit together in His Kingdom. It would never occur to my dear husband to ask me to use some sort of birth control that could possibly (and probably) result in a spontaneous abortion than he would ask me to work outside the home. It's a non-issue in our life.
Unfortunately, even good Christian women have been led astray by the world that tells them they can circumvent God's will and decide on their own how many children they should bring into this world. Due to their ignorance and their sinful nature they have killed baby after baby. Every birth control method kills a baby. It's just that simple.
The Pill. Supposedly a wonderful invention that "freed" women has done more damage to the family than even divorce! The Pill lets a baby exist and then kills it! It causes abortions. It makes the womb inhospitable for the baby that's been created. No matter what anyone tells you, the moment the sperm and egg meet a baby exists! If that baby is flushed from a woman's womb then it is pure murder. No matter what. The IUD does the same thing. And shots and other pills...it's all murder because it prevents the baby from taking shelter in his/her rightful home: the mommy's womb.
What about condoms? I will answer in one word: Onan. That's all you need to know. It's wrong to spill a man's seed without the intention of making a baby. Why else would you want to? It is just a way to make it okay for people to behave like animals and removes God and his perfect plan from their lives, their hearts and their future families.
Families. That's what is lost when evil women decide to forgo God's gifts. They destroy families. They refuse their families. I can watch my son playing with his little brother, watch my oldest daughter work on her needlepoint or play with the baby and think to myself, "This is what women are killing: their families." I will never understand that.
What about methods where the Mommy and Daddy only come together in love when the Mommy is not producing eggs? It's still a rejection of God's blessings. It is still saying that a man and wife know better than God. And no one knows God better than he does. Only He knows his plan for our lives and we can only follow his will. His will is for us to have children, to create families and raise them to serve his will. To decide that a family is not good enough for a couple is to be in direct conflict with the Lord. What good can come of that?
I will not address abortion. Very simply, it is murder. Always, at all times. Murdeer. End of discussion.
So my beloved husband and I have many children because that's what God has determined for our family. We do nothing but indulge in our love and out of that love God sends us souls to protect and raise and train to glorify the Lord. We say that we are not Quiverfull; we are Full of Love!
A Child's Heart
One of the items which plague parents with large families is how to keep up with the heart attitudes of all of their children. Life gets busy quickly, between meals and chores, worship and fellowship, it seems that every moment of every day is spoken for. One moment the bath is filled with two young children, the older daughter is making dinner, the older son is bringing in the groceries and the baby needs to be fed. From dawn to dusk we mommies spend a lot of time working hard to keep the home fires burning, making sure to run our homes as God commands, striving to please our husbands with the stewardship of his gifts. So when do parents have time to sit with their children and learn their hearts, attitudes and thoughts? No matter what commands our attention, this is one of the most important things we can do, that we must do.
Our plan is simple: we talk throughout the day. Nothing we do is done without referencing our hearts, our attitudes and our relationship with God. When two children begin to fuss over the same toy we talk about sharing, about being a servant. We talk about what God would wish for us in relation to our interactions with others. When the baby is crawling off the blanket and we hit the edge with the wooden spoon to show them their boundaries we talk to them about how to submit in love to their parents is no different than submitting in love to their awesome God. Can the baby understand? Not yet, but it's never too early to talk, to start molding those connections in the baby's mind. They'll learn.
As we take our daily walk outside we talk about nature and how God displays his awesome power through every tree, every flower. We show that God exists in every moment of our lives, in everything we see and do. It is through God's grace we have strong legs to take us on our walk, that it's through God's grace that Daddy can work hard to provide us with shoes. Everything is about education.
Because I homeschool, because I stay at home to protect the sanctity of our home I am with my children every moment of every day. I listen to the way they interact with each other, how they talk, how they reason and I can then know what's in their hearts. I see how they joyfully help with the chores, how they act lovingly towards their siblings, see how they reverence their father and know that those heart attitudes are because I shape them every single day in the image our our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Our children are still young but no topic is off limits. Our girls know already that they are precious jewels that Daddy will jealously protect from the world. The boys know they have their place to protect their sisters and mother, to learn at the knee of their earthly and Heavenly fathers to become godly men that will provide for their families. And all know that we practice JOY: Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last. This is a very obvious decision we've made to direct our children to become servants of their family and, most importantly, of God.
But is that enough? Can we really know their hearts in this way? We know that as they grow Mommy and Daddy will must work even harder to keep their hearts on the correct path of the Lord, to combat the world from intruding on their faith. Because of that there is always Daddy Time.
Every night, once Mommy has tucked everyone into bed, Daddy goes to each child for a few words of encouragement and to press upon their hearts a love of the Lord. He talks about what he has done, what he has seen and how it relates to them growing up into wonderful, godly children and servants. Mommy is usually finishing feeding the baby or tidying up the home or even preparing for her own bedtime. It is a chance for Mommy to have a moment to gather her own thoughts for when she and Daddy have a chance to share their hearts with each other.
No matter how young your children are, you can always reach out to them with God's love, with God's grace and reach their hearts. No greater burden rests upon a Mommy and Daddy's shoulders. We strive to raise Christian warriors and lovely wives. Yes, even though they are young, we parents often dream of the day we gather beautiful grandchildren around us and see the miracle of God's work in the strong, capable, God fearing adults we've raised. We strive to see men who will work to provide homes and security for growing families. We can't wait to see our darling daughters under the authority of godly men, growing their own families, serving the Lord through their children.
But not too fast, please. Lord. We still want to enjoy their babyhood!
Our plan is simple: we talk throughout the day. Nothing we do is done without referencing our hearts, our attitudes and our relationship with God. When two children begin to fuss over the same toy we talk about sharing, about being a servant. We talk about what God would wish for us in relation to our interactions with others. When the baby is crawling off the blanket and we hit the edge with the wooden spoon to show them their boundaries we talk to them about how to submit in love to their parents is no different than submitting in love to their awesome God. Can the baby understand? Not yet, but it's never too early to talk, to start molding those connections in the baby's mind. They'll learn.
As we take our daily walk outside we talk about nature and how God displays his awesome power through every tree, every flower. We show that God exists in every moment of our lives, in everything we see and do. It is through God's grace we have strong legs to take us on our walk, that it's through God's grace that Daddy can work hard to provide us with shoes. Everything is about education.
Because I homeschool, because I stay at home to protect the sanctity of our home I am with my children every moment of every day. I listen to the way they interact with each other, how they talk, how they reason and I can then know what's in their hearts. I see how they joyfully help with the chores, how they act lovingly towards their siblings, see how they reverence their father and know that those heart attitudes are because I shape them every single day in the image our our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Our children are still young but no topic is off limits. Our girls know already that they are precious jewels that Daddy will jealously protect from the world. The boys know they have their place to protect their sisters and mother, to learn at the knee of their earthly and Heavenly fathers to become godly men that will provide for their families. And all know that we practice JOY: Jesus first, Others second, Yourself last. This is a very obvious decision we've made to direct our children to become servants of their family and, most importantly, of God.
But is that enough? Can we really know their hearts in this way? We know that as they grow Mommy and Daddy will must work even harder to keep their hearts on the correct path of the Lord, to combat the world from intruding on their faith. Because of that there is always Daddy Time.
Every night, once Mommy has tucked everyone into bed, Daddy goes to each child for a few words of encouragement and to press upon their hearts a love of the Lord. He talks about what he has done, what he has seen and how it relates to them growing up into wonderful, godly children and servants. Mommy is usually finishing feeding the baby or tidying up the home or even preparing for her own bedtime. It is a chance for Mommy to have a moment to gather her own thoughts for when she and Daddy have a chance to share their hearts with each other.
No matter how young your children are, you can always reach out to them with God's love, with God's grace and reach their hearts. No greater burden rests upon a Mommy and Daddy's shoulders. We strive to raise Christian warriors and lovely wives. Yes, even though they are young, we parents often dream of the day we gather beautiful grandchildren around us and see the miracle of God's work in the strong, capable, God fearing adults we've raised. We strive to see men who will work to provide homes and security for growing families. We can't wait to see our darling daughters under the authority of godly men, growing their own families, serving the Lord through their children.
But not too fast, please. Lord. We still want to enjoy their babyhood!
Disagreements
It is a sad fact that no matter how a woman may claim to be a godly Christian woman there are areas in her life in which she allows the world to dictate her behavior. We are commanded by God to not only fulfill our calling with grace but to do so with a joyful heart. We are not to serve our families with a grudging heart or lash out at our loved ones due to stress. "Overwork" should not be a word in the Christian woman's vocabulary. In fact, I would venture to say that "work" shouldn't be in there. I don't "work" for my family. I serve them. I serve with a grateful servant's heart. My family is not drudgery or something I "have" to do: it is a miracle, a priviledge and gift from God himself. I should treat it as such and be grateful for every runny nose, every dirty diaper, every dirty dish and every call for help from every child God has blessed me to raise. And every difficult moment is mine to bear in cheerful silence, never to burden my hard-working, dear husband with at the end of his day. I must always remember that his day is always so much harder than mine. It is on his shoulders that our entire family rests. My dear husband also has the weight of his congregation on his shoulders, the spiritual wellbeing of many different people. This doesn't even include the other ministries he heads. If I were to meet him at the door with complaints and venting my frustrations no longer would his home, his castle, be his refuge, his place to best feel the glorious work of the Lord in his life.
But, even in the best of marriages, with the sweetest of wives and the most hardworking of husbands, disagreements can arise. These may be mere misunderstandings or more serious items that need to be addressed. Perhaps the husband has a problem with the particular dress of his wife though she may think she is still jealously guarding her modesty. Perhaps he feels that the dinners are not varied enough though she feels that she makes the most of their food dollar. Maybe he feels the children are not progressing well enough in their studies though the mother feels she spends a great deal of time and care in the education of his dear children. The bottom line is always that no matter how well run a home is there is always room for improvement. Since the ultimate responsibility of the family rests on the shoulders of the father, the head of the household, our authority, then it's important to listen carefully to his concerns.
Many women, even Christian women, will say they listen, say they'll improve but only say so to his face while grumbling in their hearts. How sad! For although Daddy may not see Mommy's evil heart, her ultimate authority, God himself will see. And he will work on her heart, to turn her back to her earthly authority with love. Of course, Satan can also work on a Mommy's heart, twisting her intentions and her heart attitudes, causing her to scorn her role, her vocation. No matter if she doesn't voice it, her family will know. The children will feel a current of negativity when she plays with them. The nursing baby will feel her stress and fuss. The older girls will feel that her heart's not in it when she tries to school them in the finer points of the domestic arts. And, most importantly, her husband will feel the turn in her attitudes. It will wedge apart the most important bond in her life on this earth.
What can a Christian woman do to combat this problem? Very simple. She must turn over her problems to the only one who can completely understand her heart: God. She must pray to his Son, Jesus Christ and to God himself to forgive her her sins. For to think badly of her husband, her children, her role in their household is a sin. To not serve with a joyful heart, with a positive attitude is a very greivious sin, nearly the worst that can beset even the most devout of Christian women.
But what if she does serve in love and joy? What if she is happy and content in her role as wife and mother yet there is an issue where she disagrees with her husband? What if he decides on a business investment with which she does not agree? What should she say if he wishes to purchase a new car yet she thinks their current car is serviceable a while longer? What if he wants to change careers yet she worries about financial instability? Should she voice her concerns to her dear husband, the man on earth who most understands and supports her? Should she press her point for the good of her family and her precious children? Isn't it her place to make her wants, desires, needs and opinions known at once?
The simple answer is NO. No, ladies, it is not our place to spend all of our time to question our husbands. You have no marriage if you don't have trust. And you must trust that your husband is always, always doing the best for his family. Every godly Christian man loves his wife as Christ loves his church. And he works deeply to not only provide but grow, encourage, support and love his family. Any woman who constantly questions, worries or nags her husband is doing more than voicing her opinion; she is questioning his relationship with God. She is questioning his integrity, his honor, his commitment to God and his family. Nothing but evil occurs when a wife begins to constantly question her husband's authority.
That's right. When your father transfers authority over you from him to your husband, he is doing exactly that. It is not empty words. It is very real, very important. From the moment your father says he gives this woman, he is telling not only your intended but God himself that your dear, beloved husband is now your authority. And what do godly women do with authority? They submit. Joyfully, with a light heart, with happiness, with utter devotion: they submit. They submit their will, their prideful will and their demands, their wants, their desires, their own needs to their husband's judgement and beliefs.
The most important part of submission is, to me, the joy of it. The joy of knowing that I am not lost, adrift in the world but under the loving, guiding protection of both my Heavenly Father but my lord on earth, my wonderful husband. I needn't worry about all the minute details of our family's path for my husband, with God's grace, knows! How freeing that is! I can bake, cook, sew, arrange flowers, play with my children, shop for wonderful food, help with my husband's ministry and, most importantly, raise his children without worrying about whether we need a new roof, if we should move to a new parish, if the car needs servicing or any of those things which God has given to the men in our life to handle. I can be the keeper at home, not the warrior in the world. That is what my dear husband does - he fights the tigers of the world, works against a sinful world while I get the profound priviledge of working in a little bubble of Godly love in our precious home.
God is so good!
But, even in the best of marriages, with the sweetest of wives and the most hardworking of husbands, disagreements can arise. These may be mere misunderstandings or more serious items that need to be addressed. Perhaps the husband has a problem with the particular dress of his wife though she may think she is still jealously guarding her modesty. Perhaps he feels that the dinners are not varied enough though she feels that she makes the most of their food dollar. Maybe he feels the children are not progressing well enough in their studies though the mother feels she spends a great deal of time and care in the education of his dear children. The bottom line is always that no matter how well run a home is there is always room for improvement. Since the ultimate responsibility of the family rests on the shoulders of the father, the head of the household, our authority, then it's important to listen carefully to his concerns.
Many women, even Christian women, will say they listen, say they'll improve but only say so to his face while grumbling in their hearts. How sad! For although Daddy may not see Mommy's evil heart, her ultimate authority, God himself will see. And he will work on her heart, to turn her back to her earthly authority with love. Of course, Satan can also work on a Mommy's heart, twisting her intentions and her heart attitudes, causing her to scorn her role, her vocation. No matter if she doesn't voice it, her family will know. The children will feel a current of negativity when she plays with them. The nursing baby will feel her stress and fuss. The older girls will feel that her heart's not in it when she tries to school them in the finer points of the domestic arts. And, most importantly, her husband will feel the turn in her attitudes. It will wedge apart the most important bond in her life on this earth.
What can a Christian woman do to combat this problem? Very simple. She must turn over her problems to the only one who can completely understand her heart: God. She must pray to his Son, Jesus Christ and to God himself to forgive her her sins. For to think badly of her husband, her children, her role in their household is a sin. To not serve with a joyful heart, with a positive attitude is a very greivious sin, nearly the worst that can beset even the most devout of Christian women.
But what if she does serve in love and joy? What if she is happy and content in her role as wife and mother yet there is an issue where she disagrees with her husband? What if he decides on a business investment with which she does not agree? What should she say if he wishes to purchase a new car yet she thinks their current car is serviceable a while longer? What if he wants to change careers yet she worries about financial instability? Should she voice her concerns to her dear husband, the man on earth who most understands and supports her? Should she press her point for the good of her family and her precious children? Isn't it her place to make her wants, desires, needs and opinions known at once?
The simple answer is NO. No, ladies, it is not our place to spend all of our time to question our husbands. You have no marriage if you don't have trust. And you must trust that your husband is always, always doing the best for his family. Every godly Christian man loves his wife as Christ loves his church. And he works deeply to not only provide but grow, encourage, support and love his family. Any woman who constantly questions, worries or nags her husband is doing more than voicing her opinion; she is questioning his relationship with God. She is questioning his integrity, his honor, his commitment to God and his family. Nothing but evil occurs when a wife begins to constantly question her husband's authority.
That's right. When your father transfers authority over you from him to your husband, he is doing exactly that. It is not empty words. It is very real, very important. From the moment your father says he gives this woman, he is telling not only your intended but God himself that your dear, beloved husband is now your authority. And what do godly women do with authority? They submit. Joyfully, with a light heart, with happiness, with utter devotion: they submit. They submit their will, their prideful will and their demands, their wants, their desires, their own needs to their husband's judgement and beliefs.
The most important part of submission is, to me, the joy of it. The joy of knowing that I am not lost, adrift in the world but under the loving, guiding protection of both my Heavenly Father but my lord on earth, my wonderful husband. I needn't worry about all the minute details of our family's path for my husband, with God's grace, knows! How freeing that is! I can bake, cook, sew, arrange flowers, play with my children, shop for wonderful food, help with my husband's ministry and, most importantly, raise his children without worrying about whether we need a new roof, if we should move to a new parish, if the car needs servicing or any of those things which God has given to the men in our life to handle. I can be the keeper at home, not the warrior in the world. That is what my dear husband does - he fights the tigers of the world, works against a sinful world while I get the profound priviledge of working in a little bubble of Godly love in our precious home.
God is so good!
Daily Devotions
One of the things I found most difficult when I started having my dear children was how to best structure the day. When we had our first, Issac Jr., it was easier. Mostly, the day revolved around getting breakfast for Daddy and seeing him off to his ministry, breastfeeding, household chores, breastfeeding, quick lunch for Mommy, breastfeeding, getting ready for Daddy to come home, welcoming Daddy home, dinner for the family, breastfeeding and bed! Ha! But I was one of those mommies that couldn't get enough of the dear sensation of being connected with my precious blessing from our Lord, of feeling him close, knowing that my body which had housed him for nine glorious months could now feed him.
With six more children in a small space along with a busy Daddy, it's been harder to stick to any schedule. I usually have one baby breastfeeding, one being potty trained, other children to school, chores to do, meals to make as well as making sure that all of Daddy's needs are being met. Since I am a sinner saved only by the grace of Jesus's blood, I am not a superwoman. I work hard at my job. My job is to be the best child of God, wife and mother I can be. To follow God's plan, listen to him speak to my heart to guide me in my most wonderful vocation.
I don't believe any woman in a career works harder or with greater purpose than does a Wife and Mother. God has designed women to be a helpmeet to their husband and to guide his home under their careful consideration and utmost focus. A man who works, hopefully in ministry - and all our Christian husbands work in some ministry as we are compelled to witness through all thoughts and deeds - needs to know that he is assured of a well run home. He must leave in the morning knowing that the stewardship of his home is safe in the hands of his devoted wife. He cannot do the work God has called him to do unless he can rely on her to run things in his absence. Any husband and father who serves the Lord must juggle many things while working in the world but not of it. The pressure upon him is enormous. A wife who forces him to make his own breakfast, his own lunch to take with him, who calls him all day to complain about her stress, who cannot greet him fresh and joyful, who says her day was too stressful to put a nutritious meal on the table, who has crying children - all those things put undue stress upon a man, who is King of his castle, the warrior of Christ in the world. It is up to the wife to make sure that nothing of the domestic issues reach his ears. She must be his womanly warrior in the home.
Because of that, I know that my most important role in life is with God. God gives me the strength to fulfill my most important calling and vocation: wife. Yes, being a wife means to be a mother, but if I put being a mother above my job as my dear husband's wife then I will neglect to keep my mind focused on my job. To be his wife is to mother his children, guard and protect his home.
Our day starts out with getting the children dressed and ready to greet their father. Our daughters help with breakfast as we get the table ready as Daddy showers, shaves and dresses. By the time he comes in the table is set with a filling breakfast arranged beautifully. It is important to start the day surrounded by beauty. This could be a vase of freshly picked flowers, a beautiful coffeepot filled with Daddy's favorite brew, or just a lovely basket filled with freshly baked breakfast goodies.
At breakfast we start with devotionals. Daddy picks a passage from the Bible that will be our guiding principle of the day. We fill him up on good foods and he talks to the children as I prepare his lunch for the day.
After breakfast we all see Daddy off to work with kisses, hugs, smiling faces. Then our day begins!
Our daughter does the dishes and Mommy starts with a mid-morning feeding with the baby. The oldest brother watches his little brothers as they play quietly. Then it's time for school.
We work around the kitchen table on our studies, literature, Bible studies, Biblical science, mathematics, and civics. We do two shifts - one before lunch and one afterwards. Mommy often discreetly feeds the baby during studies.
Mommy makes lunch and the girls clean up as Mommy feeds the baby. We finish our studies and then break for play time. The girls work on their needlepoint or knitting while Mommy gives instructions. The boys learn to put together their blocks and are happy building things together.
If there is time before dinner we take a walk, learning about nature or running errands to the store. We try to only make one trip to the grocery a week, but Daddy may have dry cleaning or a book we're to pick up. Mommy may even have to slip in a baby feeding discretely. I recommend a BrestFriend and a lightweight blanket for modesty's sake.
Then it's time to freshen up. We have a big sister watch baby while Mommy showers and dresses nicely for Daddy, in a clean dress and a spot of lipstick. Then we make sure everyone has a clean shirt and clean dresses.
As Daddy arrives we come to the door to take his coat, smother him with love. As he relaxes with his paper we finish dinner. One of the children calls Daddy to dinner.
Mommy serves and we sit down to share the day. Children top each other with tales of the day's events. Daddy shushes to keep order and lets each child share their little stories. Dinner is simple: roasted chicken or beef on most days, vegetables, salads because Daddy loves salad, fresh dressing for the salad, hot rolls sprinkled with Mommy's rosemary from the kitchen windowsill.
After dinner Daddy works on his ministry work, the children helping when they can. Daddy might put something aside for Mommy to type up later or during the next day.
We have Bible study before everyone goes to bed unless it's a night where we go to church fellowship or Bible study. We may go as a family to a parishoner's house to minister. Perhaps family stops by to fellowship. Both Mommy and Daddy come from large families so there's always an uncle, aunt and cousins coming through! One more nighttime feeding for the darling baby.
After all the children are tucked it's private time for Mommy and Daddy. If a younger sibling needs water one of their older siblings will take care of them so Mommy and Daddy can have time to join together and talk. It's important that Mommy and Daddy can share their hearts with one another. The bond between spouses is important for the overall growth and health of a family. If there are disagreements they are worked out before the sun hides away. Before sleep Mommy and Daddy pray together, strengthening their bond in Christ.
And the next day starts all over again! It truly is a priviledge and miracle to share this wonderful life that God in his infinite wisdom has granted to us. Each day is a blessing to cherish and celebrate. May you find time to recognize that miracle and share it with your families!
With six more children in a small space along with a busy Daddy, it's been harder to stick to any schedule. I usually have one baby breastfeeding, one being potty trained, other children to school, chores to do, meals to make as well as making sure that all of Daddy's needs are being met. Since I am a sinner saved only by the grace of Jesus's blood, I am not a superwoman. I work hard at my job. My job is to be the best child of God, wife and mother I can be. To follow God's plan, listen to him speak to my heart to guide me in my most wonderful vocation.
I don't believe any woman in a career works harder or with greater purpose than does a Wife and Mother. God has designed women to be a helpmeet to their husband and to guide his home under their careful consideration and utmost focus. A man who works, hopefully in ministry - and all our Christian husbands work in some ministry as we are compelled to witness through all thoughts and deeds - needs to know that he is assured of a well run home. He must leave in the morning knowing that the stewardship of his home is safe in the hands of his devoted wife. He cannot do the work God has called him to do unless he can rely on her to run things in his absence. Any husband and father who serves the Lord must juggle many things while working in the world but not of it. The pressure upon him is enormous. A wife who forces him to make his own breakfast, his own lunch to take with him, who calls him all day to complain about her stress, who cannot greet him fresh and joyful, who says her day was too stressful to put a nutritious meal on the table, who has crying children - all those things put undue stress upon a man, who is King of his castle, the warrior of Christ in the world. It is up to the wife to make sure that nothing of the domestic issues reach his ears. She must be his womanly warrior in the home.
Because of that, I know that my most important role in life is with God. God gives me the strength to fulfill my most important calling and vocation: wife. Yes, being a wife means to be a mother, but if I put being a mother above my job as my dear husband's wife then I will neglect to keep my mind focused on my job. To be his wife is to mother his children, guard and protect his home.
Our day starts out with getting the children dressed and ready to greet their father. Our daughters help with breakfast as we get the table ready as Daddy showers, shaves and dresses. By the time he comes in the table is set with a filling breakfast arranged beautifully. It is important to start the day surrounded by beauty. This could be a vase of freshly picked flowers, a beautiful coffeepot filled with Daddy's favorite brew, or just a lovely basket filled with freshly baked breakfast goodies.
At breakfast we start with devotionals. Daddy picks a passage from the Bible that will be our guiding principle of the day. We fill him up on good foods and he talks to the children as I prepare his lunch for the day.
After breakfast we all see Daddy off to work with kisses, hugs, smiling faces. Then our day begins!
Our daughter does the dishes and Mommy starts with a mid-morning feeding with the baby. The oldest brother watches his little brothers as they play quietly. Then it's time for school.
We work around the kitchen table on our studies, literature, Bible studies, Biblical science, mathematics, and civics. We do two shifts - one before lunch and one afterwards. Mommy often discreetly feeds the baby during studies.
Mommy makes lunch and the girls clean up as Mommy feeds the baby. We finish our studies and then break for play time. The girls work on their needlepoint or knitting while Mommy gives instructions. The boys learn to put together their blocks and are happy building things together.
If there is time before dinner we take a walk, learning about nature or running errands to the store. We try to only make one trip to the grocery a week, but Daddy may have dry cleaning or a book we're to pick up. Mommy may even have to slip in a baby feeding discretely. I recommend a BrestFriend and a lightweight blanket for modesty's sake.
Then it's time to freshen up. We have a big sister watch baby while Mommy showers and dresses nicely for Daddy, in a clean dress and a spot of lipstick. Then we make sure everyone has a clean shirt and clean dresses.
As Daddy arrives we come to the door to take his coat, smother him with love. As he relaxes with his paper we finish dinner. One of the children calls Daddy to dinner.
Mommy serves and we sit down to share the day. Children top each other with tales of the day's events. Daddy shushes to keep order and lets each child share their little stories. Dinner is simple: roasted chicken or beef on most days, vegetables, salads because Daddy loves salad, fresh dressing for the salad, hot rolls sprinkled with Mommy's rosemary from the kitchen windowsill.
After dinner Daddy works on his ministry work, the children helping when they can. Daddy might put something aside for Mommy to type up later or during the next day.
We have Bible study before everyone goes to bed unless it's a night where we go to church fellowship or Bible study. We may go as a family to a parishoner's house to minister. Perhaps family stops by to fellowship. Both Mommy and Daddy come from large families so there's always an uncle, aunt and cousins coming through! One more nighttime feeding for the darling baby.
After all the children are tucked it's private time for Mommy and Daddy. If a younger sibling needs water one of their older siblings will take care of them so Mommy and Daddy can have time to join together and talk. It's important that Mommy and Daddy can share their hearts with one another. The bond between spouses is important for the overall growth and health of a family. If there are disagreements they are worked out before the sun hides away. Before sleep Mommy and Daddy pray together, strengthening their bond in Christ.
And the next day starts all over again! It truly is a priviledge and miracle to share this wonderful life that God in his infinite wisdom has granted to us. Each day is a blessing to cherish and celebrate. May you find time to recognize that miracle and share it with your families!
Transfer of Authority Part Three
As any good Christian woman will tell you, the wedding ceremony is so much more than a day of flowers and veils. It is really the day where the authority of a young woman passes from her protective father to her protective husband. Many women today believe that her wedding vows are something she says to her intended, they are words she says to God, telling him that she is ready to leave the castle of her father and be placed under the authority of her husband.
I was up before dawn on my wedding day yet I could already hear my mother fussing downstairs. I jumped out of bed, opening the windows to let in the early morning air and the sun cut across the bouquet of flowers my Issac had sent to me the night before. Beautiful white lilies, to honor my name and my purity.
My dress, custom made by my mother, hung on the closet door, trimmed with lace and ribbons. Unlike most brides, I wouldn't bare my shoulders. My dress had a high neck and long sleeves, to denote the purity with my father had so jealously guarded with love. I would meet my fiance pure and undefiled.
I stood at the window, revelling in the beauty of this earth which God spreads before us and didn't hear my mother come in the room. She came behind me and gently woke me from my communion with God. I turned to see her familiar face and breathe that light scent of lavender. This was the last day I'd be her little girl. By nightfall I too would be a married woman, the steward of her own precious home, a wife to a wonderful, Godly man. Perhaps thinking that my mother stroked my brow and then hugged me, sharing this wonderous moment with me. We were interrupted by sisters and cousins, all excited to be a part of my wedding day.
Try as she might my mother was not successful in forcing much to eat on me. I was too excited to do much but join in all the fun. After a bath, wrapped in a warm robe, my oldest sister brushed out my hair while everyone else started singing hymns, reminding me that above all else, this day belonged to God. My hair, reddish gold, reached down to my waist and with care my sister brushed it free of tangles, curling it with her fingers to create a cascade of curls. Nieces and young nephews ran in and out, the soft cry of babies filled the room with love.
A knock on the door from my father sent us scrambling. With mere moments before leaving for the church, my mother lifted the white dress over my head and buttoned up the back. A small trail fell from the waist and a long veil fell from my crown of curls bedecked with flowers. So garbed, I left my room for the last time, knowing that tomorrow I'd be at home with my beloved husband.
On the way to church I dipped my head into my bouquet of pink roses and held my father's hand. He said very little but every so often he squeezed my hand, steadying my nerves. He held on tightly as we ascended the church steps, crowded by my twelve excited bridesmaids.
Butterflies flew in my stomach as I stepped inside the sanctuary. There, at the front, bathed in light from the altar window was my Issac. He looked calm and steady, so much more than did I. I just wanted to run down the aisle and throw my arms around him. I just wanted to scream "I do!" and be his immediately. But then I glanced up at Jesus, his eyes full of love and comfort and I took strength in repeating his name under my breath.
In mere moments we were at the front, a row of bridesmaids to my side and my father standing between Issac and me. With a deep voice the pastor asked who gives this woman in matrimony. With a slight tremor to his voice my father answered, "I do." Then he lifted my veil and kissed my cheek. He placed my hand in Issac's, thereby giving me, his most precious gift, to the man he most trusted to look over her, guide her, protect her and rule over her. At no other moment in my life had I felt so blessed, honored, precious, and secure.
I realized that my life with my father was now over. No more cuddles and stories, no more helping him shave, sitting on the edge of the sink. I would not deliver cups of tea to him in his study or type his ministry work while he read, enriching his life and mind through the study of our Lord's word. I would never greet him at the door, a maiden welcoming home her beloved father, taking his coat and handing him his paper. I was now under the authority of my husband. It would now be my husband I met at the door, for whom I would type sermons and fetch cups of tea. It would be my husband's hand I would hold when scared or nervous. I was no longer a little girl. After eighteen years, I was now a woman, nearly a wife.
To recite our vows verbatim here is too personal, but suffice to say that I pledged not only to honor and revere Issac but be a willing and eager vessel for his children, the children God would choose to bless us with. I vowed to stay under his headship and submit to his will as a godly wife. Issac vowed to lead under God's will and with the Grace of the Lamb. He pledged to love me as Christ loves his church.
Onto my willing hand Issac slipped on a wedding band and with slightly trembling hands lifted my veil. We were pronounced man and wife by our pleased pastor, who cautioned us to give our life to the Lord at all times. I held my breath as Issac placed his hands on my cheeks, my cheeks which were blushed with anticipation.
He leaned in and with electric thrill he pressed his lips upon mine. My first kiss given to me by my dear, beloved husband. I thought, as our lips touched, how great God is to teach us to wait for our intended, to keep ourselves pure until he chooses to bless us in his timing.
I hope my story has inspired others to always remember that our Lord, God has a plan for each and every one of us on this earth. No matter how tempting it might be to break with that plan and choose our own path, no one knows our hearts the way our Father in Heaven knows our hearts. He will always put us on the correct path, choosing our way to know his love more fully every day.
I was up before dawn on my wedding day yet I could already hear my mother fussing downstairs. I jumped out of bed, opening the windows to let in the early morning air and the sun cut across the bouquet of flowers my Issac had sent to me the night before. Beautiful white lilies, to honor my name and my purity.
My dress, custom made by my mother, hung on the closet door, trimmed with lace and ribbons. Unlike most brides, I wouldn't bare my shoulders. My dress had a high neck and long sleeves, to denote the purity with my father had so jealously guarded with love. I would meet my fiance pure and undefiled.
I stood at the window, revelling in the beauty of this earth which God spreads before us and didn't hear my mother come in the room. She came behind me and gently woke me from my communion with God. I turned to see her familiar face and breathe that light scent of lavender. This was the last day I'd be her little girl. By nightfall I too would be a married woman, the steward of her own precious home, a wife to a wonderful, Godly man. Perhaps thinking that my mother stroked my brow and then hugged me, sharing this wonderous moment with me. We were interrupted by sisters and cousins, all excited to be a part of my wedding day.
Try as she might my mother was not successful in forcing much to eat on me. I was too excited to do much but join in all the fun. After a bath, wrapped in a warm robe, my oldest sister brushed out my hair while everyone else started singing hymns, reminding me that above all else, this day belonged to God. My hair, reddish gold, reached down to my waist and with care my sister brushed it free of tangles, curling it with her fingers to create a cascade of curls. Nieces and young nephews ran in and out, the soft cry of babies filled the room with love.
A knock on the door from my father sent us scrambling. With mere moments before leaving for the church, my mother lifted the white dress over my head and buttoned up the back. A small trail fell from the waist and a long veil fell from my crown of curls bedecked with flowers. So garbed, I left my room for the last time, knowing that tomorrow I'd be at home with my beloved husband.
On the way to church I dipped my head into my bouquet of pink roses and held my father's hand. He said very little but every so often he squeezed my hand, steadying my nerves. He held on tightly as we ascended the church steps, crowded by my twelve excited bridesmaids.
Butterflies flew in my stomach as I stepped inside the sanctuary. There, at the front, bathed in light from the altar window was my Issac. He looked calm and steady, so much more than did I. I just wanted to run down the aisle and throw my arms around him. I just wanted to scream "I do!" and be his immediately. But then I glanced up at Jesus, his eyes full of love and comfort and I took strength in repeating his name under my breath.
In mere moments we were at the front, a row of bridesmaids to my side and my father standing between Issac and me. With a deep voice the pastor asked who gives this woman in matrimony. With a slight tremor to his voice my father answered, "I do." Then he lifted my veil and kissed my cheek. He placed my hand in Issac's, thereby giving me, his most precious gift, to the man he most trusted to look over her, guide her, protect her and rule over her. At no other moment in my life had I felt so blessed, honored, precious, and secure.
I realized that my life with my father was now over. No more cuddles and stories, no more helping him shave, sitting on the edge of the sink. I would not deliver cups of tea to him in his study or type his ministry work while he read, enriching his life and mind through the study of our Lord's word. I would never greet him at the door, a maiden welcoming home her beloved father, taking his coat and handing him his paper. I was now under the authority of my husband. It would now be my husband I met at the door, for whom I would type sermons and fetch cups of tea. It would be my husband's hand I would hold when scared or nervous. I was no longer a little girl. After eighteen years, I was now a woman, nearly a wife.
To recite our vows verbatim here is too personal, but suffice to say that I pledged not only to honor and revere Issac but be a willing and eager vessel for his children, the children God would choose to bless us with. I vowed to stay under his headship and submit to his will as a godly wife. Issac vowed to lead under God's will and with the Grace of the Lamb. He pledged to love me as Christ loves his church.
Onto my willing hand Issac slipped on a wedding band and with slightly trembling hands lifted my veil. We were pronounced man and wife by our pleased pastor, who cautioned us to give our life to the Lord at all times. I held my breath as Issac placed his hands on my cheeks, my cheeks which were blushed with anticipation.
He leaned in and with electric thrill he pressed his lips upon mine. My first kiss given to me by my dear, beloved husband. I thought, as our lips touched, how great God is to teach us to wait for our intended, to keep ourselves pure until he chooses to bless us in his timing.
I hope my story has inspired others to always remember that our Lord, God has a plan for each and every one of us on this earth. No matter how tempting it might be to break with that plan and choose our own path, no one knows our hearts the way our Father in Heaven knows our hearts. He will always put us on the correct path, choosing our way to know his love more fully every day.
Transfer of Authority Part Two
Over the next month I felt the awful power of God working in my life and on my heart. Issac and I grew closer under the watchful and jealous eye of my protective father. Many nights we would sit at the kitchen table enjoying Bible study and fellowship with my parents, my mother bustling about serving tea and my father gently guiding us through the process of learning about the Lord's plan for our life.
I admit that I struggled not to stumble. Many a night I would wish to take Issac's hand, to pull closer to him, to show him through more than words how my heart felt knitted to his in the light of Jesus. As those feelings developed I would turn to God, spending many a night on my knees, begging God for the strength to remember my vow of purity, to remember that it was not in my power to move the relationship further, that only through moving together in our study of the Lord's word could we truly find solace.
Every time I picked up one of my nephews or nieces, every time I put dinner on the table, with each piece of clothing I put on the drying line I wondered how long it would be until I was doing so in my own house, for my dear husband and my precious children. I wondered if my son would have Issac's green eyes or my long fingers. I sewed on a trosseau, praying that these linens would grace my own table. We would start small, I knew, in a little apartment of a garden building. There wouldn't be room for a garden but there would be room for the babies we both wanted, a kitchen were I could make him rosemary chicken and rolls, just like my mother made for my father. I braided rugs with scraps from my mother for a kitchen rug. I did needlepoint pillows for our couch, sewed curtains and dreamt of a little place of our own.
Issac shared his dreams with me of a small parsonage where he could tend to a faithful flock, doing God's work here on this earth. I would have a garden and flowers and our children could help while we made a home of beauty and grace, loving in God all the while. Issac revealed his brilliance to me, showed my father and me how he could interpret with feeling and intelligence the word of God. There were, at times, heated debates over scripture and while I held my tongue, I worried that my father would see those differences as too big to surmount. To my surprise and delight I found that Issac was able to not only debate with respect and honor but eventually persuade my father on some things. I heard nothing but the wonderful music of my beloved father and, now, my beloved Issac talking of the word of God. What words could be more glorious than that?
Two months after Issac first graced our dining table my father took me aside to talk to me. My father had me sit and explained that Issac had asked him a month earlier for my hand in marriage.
I nearly leapt from my seat, eagerness obviously apparent and my heart beat quickly.
"Yes, Father, oh, yes," I cried.
His eyes were warm with a twinkle when he responded, "My child, I have prayed on this for the past month. That's why I didn't with to say anything. As you know, only the best will do for my daughter. I have met with Issac and as you know we've discussed how he wishes to proceed to live a Godly life."
I held my breath, wondering briefly how my heart would stand my father telling me that he had denied my beloved the chance to become my dearest husband. Almost as if he knew my own happiness was hanging in the balance and to tease me my father paused. I didn't dare breathe with anticipation.
"I have consented," he said and then had to pause as I leapt up and hugged him tight. He gently pulled my arns from around his neck and sat me down again, "I have told him that if he wishes to come to church with us on Sunday he has my permission to take you on a walk to the gazebo to talk to you. I trust you will behave honorably."
"Of course, Father, of course," I said, blushing for the tempting thought of being with Issac away from the eyes of my parents did cause me to feel light and fearful.
That night I dropped on my knees to bless the Lord for being so good to me. I begged forgiveness for ever doubting his work in my life. I prayed and prayed, tears of happiness streaming down my face until my mother peeked in the room and turned out the light, gently reminding me to sleep. Though it took so long to fall asleep, I fell into a wonderful dream of my own home and a wonderful husband to call my own, with children running from everywhere, calling me "Mama."
It was with a renewed spirit that I served my family for the next week. I baked and swept, planted and weeded, did laundry and babysat. Yet, underneath all my industriousness were thoughts of Sunday, of finally hearing my love telling me he wanted to make me his blessed wife.
On Sunday I was up before dawn and my mother greeted me in the cheery kitchen with great delight as I already had breakfast on the table, complete with freshly squeezed juice and warm cinnamon buns. Of course, she knew, as did my father, that excitement would not let me sleep. I was cautioned over and over during breakfast as every little sound caused me to jump up, thinking it was my Issac at the door.
Just after my father's second cup of coffee the doorbell rang. My father set down his cup and bade me to sit still. I patted my hair and smoothed my dress though I didn't have the calm to pick up my fork.
Issac walked in ahead of my father, a clutch of red roses in his hands and a shy smile on his face. He handed the roses to my mother. She bustled off to find a vase and my father motioned Issac to sit opposite of me. He turned down offers of breakfast and instead spoke to my father about church news. My mother asked after his parents, with whome we had fellowshipped just two weeks before. Every time I was around Issac's graceful mother I felt that there was a kinship between us and I wanted nothing more than to call her my beloved mother-in-law.
Throughout the time until we left for church Issac and I spent time catching glances, resulting in blushes for us both. He complimented my dress and I complimented his tie. He accepted a cup of coffee from my mother and I admired the roses he brought. Mostly, we sought reasons to seek each other's eyes, seeing our future within them.
Church was a test of my earthly will and many times over I felt the hand of God still my heart, keeping me from reaching out for Issac's hand during the hymns. Never before had I felt such a desire to leave church. Usually the simple sanctuary and soaring service filled me with the greatest of feelings. Today, however, I felt impatient, wishing only to be on my way to the gazebo. I barely heard the other parishoners afterwards, moving bit by bit to the car, feeling frustrated that it was taking my parents so long to leave.
At home my mother bustled off to the kitchen to start preparing lunch. My father motioned for me to follow before he took Issac aside. I strained to hear from where I chopped the lettace for salad but my mother kept my attention by discussing her own cooking. It seemed like forever before my father called me from the kitchen. I wiped my hands and rushed out.
Issac spoke after a short nod from my father, "Lilly, I would be honored if you would take a walk with me to the gazebo."
I glanced at my father who smiled and nodded.
"Yes, Issac, that would be lovely."
We walked through the kitchen to the back door. I followed Issac out and we walked in delightful silence to the gazebo that stood next to the small pond beyong my mother's garden. I sat on the bench and waited.
Issac sat next to me and for a long time quietly told me of his plans for his life. He explained how, like me, he was the youngest of a large family and was eager to find not just a wife, but one who understood that it would be only God who could open or close the womb. He wanted a wife who knew that the life of a simple pastor would be one of frugality and resource. He said he had watched me in my parents' home and was impressed by my skills. He said that the most important thing was that both he and his wife would live for the most important thing ever: Our great Lord, God and through the grace of the blood of his Son, Jesus Christ.
My heart was racing and while I wanted him to propose, I also felt such peace at hearing his vision for the life we'd share. I could see Bible study with our family, having our children in the warmth of our bed, of visiting my siblings and watching a multitude of beautiful children playing.
I told him how I had always known that God had only one for me and he would be the godliest of men. I told him that I had never wanted anything more than to be the supportive wife of a great man and the mother of his children.
With that Issac knealt down and produced a beautiful diamond ring. The small diamond glinted in the light and my breath caught in my throat.
"Lilly, will you do me the honor of being my wife, my heart, my helpmeet?"
"Yes, yes!" I cried as tears started streaming down my face.
With my emphatic answer Issac removed the purity ring I had worn for the previous six years and replaced it with the most beautiful engagement ring I had ever seen.
I was the luckiest girl in the room!
Next time: Planning the most beautiful wedding in the world to my lovely fiance.
I admit that I struggled not to stumble. Many a night I would wish to take Issac's hand, to pull closer to him, to show him through more than words how my heart felt knitted to his in the light of Jesus. As those feelings developed I would turn to God, spending many a night on my knees, begging God for the strength to remember my vow of purity, to remember that it was not in my power to move the relationship further, that only through moving together in our study of the Lord's word could we truly find solace.
Every time I picked up one of my nephews or nieces, every time I put dinner on the table, with each piece of clothing I put on the drying line I wondered how long it would be until I was doing so in my own house, for my dear husband and my precious children. I wondered if my son would have Issac's green eyes or my long fingers. I sewed on a trosseau, praying that these linens would grace my own table. We would start small, I knew, in a little apartment of a garden building. There wouldn't be room for a garden but there would be room for the babies we both wanted, a kitchen were I could make him rosemary chicken and rolls, just like my mother made for my father. I braided rugs with scraps from my mother for a kitchen rug. I did needlepoint pillows for our couch, sewed curtains and dreamt of a little place of our own.
Issac shared his dreams with me of a small parsonage where he could tend to a faithful flock, doing God's work here on this earth. I would have a garden and flowers and our children could help while we made a home of beauty and grace, loving in God all the while. Issac revealed his brilliance to me, showed my father and me how he could interpret with feeling and intelligence the word of God. There were, at times, heated debates over scripture and while I held my tongue, I worried that my father would see those differences as too big to surmount. To my surprise and delight I found that Issac was able to not only debate with respect and honor but eventually persuade my father on some things. I heard nothing but the wonderful music of my beloved father and, now, my beloved Issac talking of the word of God. What words could be more glorious than that?
Two months after Issac first graced our dining table my father took me aside to talk to me. My father had me sit and explained that Issac had asked him a month earlier for my hand in marriage.
I nearly leapt from my seat, eagerness obviously apparent and my heart beat quickly.
"Yes, Father, oh, yes," I cried.
His eyes were warm with a twinkle when he responded, "My child, I have prayed on this for the past month. That's why I didn't with to say anything. As you know, only the best will do for my daughter. I have met with Issac and as you know we've discussed how he wishes to proceed to live a Godly life."
I held my breath, wondering briefly how my heart would stand my father telling me that he had denied my beloved the chance to become my dearest husband. Almost as if he knew my own happiness was hanging in the balance and to tease me my father paused. I didn't dare breathe with anticipation.
"I have consented," he said and then had to pause as I leapt up and hugged him tight. He gently pulled my arns from around his neck and sat me down again, "I have told him that if he wishes to come to church with us on Sunday he has my permission to take you on a walk to the gazebo to talk to you. I trust you will behave honorably."
"Of course, Father, of course," I said, blushing for the tempting thought of being with Issac away from the eyes of my parents did cause me to feel light and fearful.
That night I dropped on my knees to bless the Lord for being so good to me. I begged forgiveness for ever doubting his work in my life. I prayed and prayed, tears of happiness streaming down my face until my mother peeked in the room and turned out the light, gently reminding me to sleep. Though it took so long to fall asleep, I fell into a wonderful dream of my own home and a wonderful husband to call my own, with children running from everywhere, calling me "Mama."
It was with a renewed spirit that I served my family for the next week. I baked and swept, planted and weeded, did laundry and babysat. Yet, underneath all my industriousness were thoughts of Sunday, of finally hearing my love telling me he wanted to make me his blessed wife.
On Sunday I was up before dawn and my mother greeted me in the cheery kitchen with great delight as I already had breakfast on the table, complete with freshly squeezed juice and warm cinnamon buns. Of course, she knew, as did my father, that excitement would not let me sleep. I was cautioned over and over during breakfast as every little sound caused me to jump up, thinking it was my Issac at the door.
Just after my father's second cup of coffee the doorbell rang. My father set down his cup and bade me to sit still. I patted my hair and smoothed my dress though I didn't have the calm to pick up my fork.
Issac walked in ahead of my father, a clutch of red roses in his hands and a shy smile on his face. He handed the roses to my mother. She bustled off to find a vase and my father motioned Issac to sit opposite of me. He turned down offers of breakfast and instead spoke to my father about church news. My mother asked after his parents, with whome we had fellowshipped just two weeks before. Every time I was around Issac's graceful mother I felt that there was a kinship between us and I wanted nothing more than to call her my beloved mother-in-law.
Throughout the time until we left for church Issac and I spent time catching glances, resulting in blushes for us both. He complimented my dress and I complimented his tie. He accepted a cup of coffee from my mother and I admired the roses he brought. Mostly, we sought reasons to seek each other's eyes, seeing our future within them.
Church was a test of my earthly will and many times over I felt the hand of God still my heart, keeping me from reaching out for Issac's hand during the hymns. Never before had I felt such a desire to leave church. Usually the simple sanctuary and soaring service filled me with the greatest of feelings. Today, however, I felt impatient, wishing only to be on my way to the gazebo. I barely heard the other parishoners afterwards, moving bit by bit to the car, feeling frustrated that it was taking my parents so long to leave.
At home my mother bustled off to the kitchen to start preparing lunch. My father motioned for me to follow before he took Issac aside. I strained to hear from where I chopped the lettace for salad but my mother kept my attention by discussing her own cooking. It seemed like forever before my father called me from the kitchen. I wiped my hands and rushed out.
Issac spoke after a short nod from my father, "Lilly, I would be honored if you would take a walk with me to the gazebo."
I glanced at my father who smiled and nodded.
"Yes, Issac, that would be lovely."
We walked through the kitchen to the back door. I followed Issac out and we walked in delightful silence to the gazebo that stood next to the small pond beyong my mother's garden. I sat on the bench and waited.
Issac sat next to me and for a long time quietly told me of his plans for his life. He explained how, like me, he was the youngest of a large family and was eager to find not just a wife, but one who understood that it would be only God who could open or close the womb. He wanted a wife who knew that the life of a simple pastor would be one of frugality and resource. He said he had watched me in my parents' home and was impressed by my skills. He said that the most important thing was that both he and his wife would live for the most important thing ever: Our great Lord, God and through the grace of the blood of his Son, Jesus Christ.
My heart was racing and while I wanted him to propose, I also felt such peace at hearing his vision for the life we'd share. I could see Bible study with our family, having our children in the warmth of our bed, of visiting my siblings and watching a multitude of beautiful children playing.
I told him how I had always known that God had only one for me and he would be the godliest of men. I told him that I had never wanted anything more than to be the supportive wife of a great man and the mother of his children.
With that Issac knealt down and produced a beautiful diamond ring. The small diamond glinted in the light and my breath caught in my throat.
"Lilly, will you do me the honor of being my wife, my heart, my helpmeet?"
"Yes, yes!" I cried as tears started streaming down my face.
With my emphatic answer Issac removed the purity ring I had worn for the previous six years and replaced it with the most beautiful engagement ring I had ever seen.
I was the luckiest girl in the room!
Next time: Planning the most beautiful wedding in the world to my lovely fiance.
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Transfer of Authority Part One
My name is Lilly and I was brought up knowing that I was a child of God, serving on earth as a symbol of radiant purity.
I grew up the youngest of eight children. We were evenly split, four strapping boys and four delicately feminine girls. We watched my dear father mold our brothers into Godly men who were going to conquer the world by being fathers, hard workers and striving to witness to others, showing them how a man of God behaves. Our brothers were taught to reverence our father and protect their mother and sisters. I now have four brothers with beautiful and demure wives. I see the hand of God working in their lives and in the lives of my nephews and nieces.
My father was even more exacting with my sisters and me. As God protects the frailest flowers from the sharpest winds, my father put his time and energy, his thoughts and prayers into protecting my sisters and I from the world. We were taught modesty and how to create true femininity through grace and service. We served his goals, reverenced him in all our thoughts and deeds. We met him at the door to carry his coat, fetched his coffee and learned through our actions how to glorify God in the highest.
Because we were his precious jewels, we were protected against the onslaught of untoward attention from men. Our dress protected our bodies from unChristian eyes and his actions protected our hearts and souls. No matter the pressure from the outside world to be a part of the world, we knew we were too precious to both our father on earth and our Father in Heaven to be a part of it.
Through the years we knew, from the very begining that we were not going to go to college or out into the workplace. We were homeschooled, our father and mother spending countless hours teaching us the Bible, history, geography, Biblical Science, medicine, law, mathematics. We were not mindless flowers but beautiful roses of intellect for my father was wise and knew that one day we would be stewards of homes with children to educate, with dear husbands to support and encourage. How could we fulfill our responsibilities if we were not educated? Not only did we learn with our minds, we learned with our hearts. Our mother took the time each day to model true feminine beauty to us, showing us early how to cook from scratch, how to run a home and excel in the arts that can only be mastered fully by women as ordained by our Lord.
It was never an option to leave home before we were married. We stayed safe and secure under the authority of our father, unquestioningly obeying him, knowing that his love assured us the correct path in our walk with our Lord, Jesus Christ. As we grew our father vetted any man interested in us. Many I'm sure we never knew about for they didn't meet our loving father's strict expectations. As does our Father in Heaven, our earthly father would give us only to the purest of man. We knew we would be happy and safe with our father until he handed us at the altar to the one God had intended for us.
As the years went by I saw my sisters joined in matrimony to Godly men chosen by my father, secure in their future and I admit I struggled with jealousy, wondering where my white knight was. My sisters would laugh and tease me, telling me that no one would ever be good enough for my father's baby. I admit I started to worry that my father would jealously guard me so well that I would end up an old maid. I would twirl the purity ring my father put on my finger when I turned 12 and wondered if ever there would be a man my father would deem good enough to replace it with a loving wedding band. When those worries pulled at my heart I would fall to my knees, praying to my Lord and Master to quell the jealousy in my heart, to turn me into the pure daughter of virtue who would trust fully in my father here on this earth.
I remember waking one day with a deep sense of peace. God had worked on my heart and filled me with peace. I dressed in a beautiful dress of pink and ran downstairs, happy and content to help my mother with my father's breakfast, eager to show that I could serve my family with complete and total joy. And it was at that breakfast, as I poured his coffee and my mother scrambled my eggs that my father decided to announce that he had been praying upon a young man for a while. I nearly overfilled his coffee for my heart beat so fast. He explained that he had been having Bible study every evening on his way back home with a man he felt just might be good enough for me. I started to ply him with questions until he held up his hand and said he wasn't sure yet and until he was there was no need to fill my head with tales of this young man. My mother smiled and patted his hand and I tried not to let my heart leap from my chest. God had sent someone to my father, he had heard my prayer and that's how I found peace!
Everyday for two months I held my tongue, trusting in the Lord and in my father to reveal their plan in their own perfect timing. I studied my piano, I baked with my mother, I served my brothers and sisters by helping with their growing families. Every time I held a warm baby I wondered if soon I'd be holding my own. Would I have all girls or all boys or would they be evenly split like my own family? I ached and every time I did I threw myself upon the Lord for strength and guidance.
It was after two months that my father announced that this young man would be attending dinner with us but I was to let him talk. I spent countless hours looking for the perfect thing to wear. I fussed over the table settings. I checked on dinner and made rolls and pies and cakes and fussed so much that my mother sent me to the study with my father to relax. I asked my father if I could do my needlepoint with him as I needed to keep my hands busy. He consented and I tried countless times to ask him about this young man who had made such an impression on him. Each time he smiled and told me to go back to work.
On the dot the doorbell rang and it was with my father's permission that it was I who opened the door. I found the most handsome young man with a bouquet of daisies and a shy smile. My father, who had been standing behind me, put his hand on my shoulder and quelled my heart's flutters. He introduced me as Lilly and introduced the young man as Issac. He invited Issac in who then handed the flowers to my mother. I was crushed to know the flowers weren't for me until I saw him blush when he caught my eye. I may not have flowers but somehow I knew I had his heart. I closed the door as my father escorted him in to the dining room and my mother bustled to the kitchen. The Lord placed his gentle hand on my heart and I knew this was the One God had intended for me.
I grew up the youngest of eight children. We were evenly split, four strapping boys and four delicately feminine girls. We watched my dear father mold our brothers into Godly men who were going to conquer the world by being fathers, hard workers and striving to witness to others, showing them how a man of God behaves. Our brothers were taught to reverence our father and protect their mother and sisters. I now have four brothers with beautiful and demure wives. I see the hand of God working in their lives and in the lives of my nephews and nieces.
My father was even more exacting with my sisters and me. As God protects the frailest flowers from the sharpest winds, my father put his time and energy, his thoughts and prayers into protecting my sisters and I from the world. We were taught modesty and how to create true femininity through grace and service. We served his goals, reverenced him in all our thoughts and deeds. We met him at the door to carry his coat, fetched his coffee and learned through our actions how to glorify God in the highest.
Because we were his precious jewels, we were protected against the onslaught of untoward attention from men. Our dress protected our bodies from unChristian eyes and his actions protected our hearts and souls. No matter the pressure from the outside world to be a part of the world, we knew we were too precious to both our father on earth and our Father in Heaven to be a part of it.
Through the years we knew, from the very begining that we were not going to go to college or out into the workplace. We were homeschooled, our father and mother spending countless hours teaching us the Bible, history, geography, Biblical Science, medicine, law, mathematics. We were not mindless flowers but beautiful roses of intellect for my father was wise and knew that one day we would be stewards of homes with children to educate, with dear husbands to support and encourage. How could we fulfill our responsibilities if we were not educated? Not only did we learn with our minds, we learned with our hearts. Our mother took the time each day to model true feminine beauty to us, showing us early how to cook from scratch, how to run a home and excel in the arts that can only be mastered fully by women as ordained by our Lord.
It was never an option to leave home before we were married. We stayed safe and secure under the authority of our father, unquestioningly obeying him, knowing that his love assured us the correct path in our walk with our Lord, Jesus Christ. As we grew our father vetted any man interested in us. Many I'm sure we never knew about for they didn't meet our loving father's strict expectations. As does our Father in Heaven, our earthly father would give us only to the purest of man. We knew we would be happy and safe with our father until he handed us at the altar to the one God had intended for us.
As the years went by I saw my sisters joined in matrimony to Godly men chosen by my father, secure in their future and I admit I struggled with jealousy, wondering where my white knight was. My sisters would laugh and tease me, telling me that no one would ever be good enough for my father's baby. I admit I started to worry that my father would jealously guard me so well that I would end up an old maid. I would twirl the purity ring my father put on my finger when I turned 12 and wondered if ever there would be a man my father would deem good enough to replace it with a loving wedding band. When those worries pulled at my heart I would fall to my knees, praying to my Lord and Master to quell the jealousy in my heart, to turn me into the pure daughter of virtue who would trust fully in my father here on this earth.
I remember waking one day with a deep sense of peace. God had worked on my heart and filled me with peace. I dressed in a beautiful dress of pink and ran downstairs, happy and content to help my mother with my father's breakfast, eager to show that I could serve my family with complete and total joy. And it was at that breakfast, as I poured his coffee and my mother scrambled my eggs that my father decided to announce that he had been praying upon a young man for a while. I nearly overfilled his coffee for my heart beat so fast. He explained that he had been having Bible study every evening on his way back home with a man he felt just might be good enough for me. I started to ply him with questions until he held up his hand and said he wasn't sure yet and until he was there was no need to fill my head with tales of this young man. My mother smiled and patted his hand and I tried not to let my heart leap from my chest. God had sent someone to my father, he had heard my prayer and that's how I found peace!
Everyday for two months I held my tongue, trusting in the Lord and in my father to reveal their plan in their own perfect timing. I studied my piano, I baked with my mother, I served my brothers and sisters by helping with their growing families. Every time I held a warm baby I wondered if soon I'd be holding my own. Would I have all girls or all boys or would they be evenly split like my own family? I ached and every time I did I threw myself upon the Lord for strength and guidance.
It was after two months that my father announced that this young man would be attending dinner with us but I was to let him talk. I spent countless hours looking for the perfect thing to wear. I fussed over the table settings. I checked on dinner and made rolls and pies and cakes and fussed so much that my mother sent me to the study with my father to relax. I asked my father if I could do my needlepoint with him as I needed to keep my hands busy. He consented and I tried countless times to ask him about this young man who had made such an impression on him. Each time he smiled and told me to go back to work.
On the dot the doorbell rang and it was with my father's permission that it was I who opened the door. I found the most handsome young man with a bouquet of daisies and a shy smile. My father, who had been standing behind me, put his hand on my shoulder and quelled my heart's flutters. He introduced me as Lilly and introduced the young man as Issac. He invited Issac in who then handed the flowers to my mother. I was crushed to know the flowers weren't for me until I saw him blush when he caught my eye. I may not have flowers but somehow I knew I had his heart. I closed the door as my father escorted him in to the dining room and my mother bustled to the kitchen. The Lord placed his gentle hand on my heart and I knew this was the One God had intended for me.
Introduction
In this wicked world there are too many women turning away from their God-given place in this world. No longer do women fulfill their calling as the guides and guardians of their home, serving their family, and more importantly, their authorities, their dear husbands, with honor and grace. I hope to shine a light in this blog to help turn troubled hearts away from the world and back to their homes, to bring light into the world, to glorify God in all they do and say and learn how to serve In Loving Submission.
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