Fear

As a child I was plagued by fear. There was a period of time where I wouldn't even answer "yes" or "no" because I was afraid I might be lying. I saw people walking up the stairs in our house and had dreams about horrible things. I was afraid the Nazis would come and persecute us for being Christians and I slept in my brother's room so as not to be alone. In Sunday school I wouldn't sing "I Love the Bible" because I wasn't sure I really loved it and was afraid I'd be lying if I did sing. (I'd mouth the words though, so I wouldn't have to explain to the teacher why I wasn't singing.) I don't know why, but I was unusually fearful. At some point God delivered me from living in fear and I grew into a confident adult, one who did "dangerous" things like climbed mountains and traveled alone and snowboarded and galavanted around the world. I truly felt like God had lifted the spirit of fear and given me instead "power and love and a sound mind." (2 Timothy 1:7)
And then I became a mama. And the fear began to creep in again. Not all at once, but a little at a time. From the moment I learned I was pregnant with Peregrine the worrisome thoughts began, the what-ifs. The slightest crampy feeling and I wondered if I was going to miscarry. An hour or two without any movement and the fear would rise up. The numerous times I would lay my hand on his little sleeping chest and stand, silently, to feel that reassuring rise and fall that meant life. And as he's grown and Alethea has joined our family I've continued in this; everywhere I look I see potential accidents, I envision injuries and car crashes and disease and rabid dogs around the corner. I've thought about it occasionally, how I've allowed myself to give in to fear, and I try to turn my imaginations into prayer for my children. But too often, I just worry, allowing the small thoughts to turn into full-blown scenarios of things that could happen to Peregrine or Alethea or Erik.
The last few weeks, since losing our unborn baby, I've been struggling with fear more than I have since I was a child. I feel like I want to keep my kids, and Erik for that matter, in my sight at all times, as if my presence will somehow protect them. Of course, since I was physically unable to do much more than lay on the couch for the first two weeks, I had to let my kids be cared for by others. Not just any others, but our parents and sisters who are capable and trustworthy. But still, the fear rises up. My Dad took the kids for a walk on the river path one morning. Their destination was the duck pond, our usual walk. I began to worry; what if one of the kids falls off the bridge, or drowns in the pond, or gets run over by a cyclist? This is my Dad, who raised five kids in the wilds of British Columbia and Alberta, who always guarded and protected us and does the same for his grandchildren. I know he will watch my kids like his own, and yet, I begin to worry.
This increasing fear has gotten me thinking. As a child, I was nearly paralyzed by my fear. And now, fear comes in again, threatening to overshadow the joy that comes with having a family. I have a choice though; I don't have to let that happen. I don't have to allow the fearful thoughts to settle in; I don't have to serve them tea and cookies. They're not welcome guests, and I need to tell them to go. And they're not just harmless thoughts; they're sin, and as God's child I am not to wallow in worry. Fear is not what God has given me; He offers peace. He doesn't promise that nothing bad will ever happen to my children, but I can trust Him, because they are His children, and because He will never leave us. My Mom read me the words of Isaiah 43:1-4 over and over again as a frightened little girl. She read them again to me as I lay in the ER a few weeks ago, weak and pale, unable to stand, and full of sorrow that our baby had died. These words have comforted me through my life; they are written on my heart. They are true, and the fear is not.
"But now, this is what the LORD says—he who created you, O Jacob, he who formed you, O Israel: "Fear not, for I have redeemed you; I have summoned you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD, your God, the Holy One of Israel, your Savior; I give Egypt for your ransom, Cush and Seba in your stead. Since you are precious and honored in my sight, and because I love you, I will give men in exchange for you, and people in exchange for your life." Isaiah 43:1-4

Eight Hours in Taiwan

Six years ago on this day I was on an overnight bus from Bangkok to Chiang Mai, Thailand. I slept on and off on that bus and woke long enough to watch terrific flashes of lightning illuminate the sky. As part of the Prodigal Project, I'd embarked on an adventure that would take us from San Francisco to the opposite side of the world where we would spend the next nine months traveling around Thailand, Nepal and India. SouthEast Asia is a destination for travelers from the North America, Europe, Israel, and Australia. Many go seeking spiritual experience and enlightenment in the religions of the East, chiefly Buddhism and Hinduism. And while many seek, few find the Truth. Our desire was to form relationships with these travelers as we lived and traveled alongside them in the hopes of introducing them to the One who didn't merely tell us the truth but who is the Truth. And so we set out, eight in number, not knowing where the Wind would blow us from one day to the next.
Over the next several months I want to share some of the experiences we had during our time there. Once a week (more or less) I'll post an excerpt from my journal that coincides with where I was six years ago. This was a life-changing trip for me, and it was also the time when I discovered how much I enjoy writing. I love traveling and reading stories of adventures in far-off lands. I have a crazy dream of someday writing a travel memoir type book. I like to read those books, but it seems they're usually written by single people; mine will be the adventures of a family who travels and homeschools in the far-flung corners of the world. Someday! But for today, here I am in Oregon, with a house and a mini-van and a handsome husband and two kids . And memories.....
20 September 2000 Sleepy reflections from the airport in Taipei, Taiwan. We left San Francisco at 1AM and after 12 hours in the air we're 6 hours into our layover in Taipei. I'm tired, and still have 2 hours before we board our flight for Bangkok. I just laid down in a patch of sunlight and rested for a while....
Classical music plays over the loudspeaker, interrupted by boarding calls and gate change announcements. The "moving sidewalk" rattles and people speak in languages strange to my ears. It's cool in here, but my bit of sunshine is warm; heat waves outside show themselves moving across my paper. I feel drowsy, hungry. The parking lot looks like any in America except for the Chinese characters on the signs and busses. A new section of the airport is being built and a woman shovels mortar out of a wheelbarrow. The men come in and out of view; I imagine they are laying brick.
Inside people walk by; mostly Asian, a few Indians, very few Caucasians. Business men in suits, young people casually dressed, older women, stylish flight attendants. Many look at us with curiosity and a few smile. The rattling stopped; the "moving sidewalk" is still. The Chinese characters on the bright signs are strange to my eyes, strange, but beautiful. The English translations are often humorous. Advertisements sponsored by the government speak out against drugs and pornography. Other advertisements nearby use naked women to sell their products. Another sign proclaims that possession of drugs in the Republic of China is punishable by death.
We wait, anticipating two more hours here, then three more on the flight to Bangkok. Then customs, taking a train into the city, catching a bus, walking, finding a place to stay, finding food, hopefully finding rest.....

Q is for Question

We've taken a bit of a break from doing our letter-of-the-week, but I'm wanting to ease back into it this week. We're on Q, and I'm sure there are lots of things we could do but I can't seem to think of many. So, here's my Question: what ideas do you have to teach the letter Q to an almost four-year-old?
Thanks for your help!

Happy Fall!

It's the first day of Fall, my favorite season. Outside the sky is blue, the vibrant blue that is a sure sign of autumn. The days have been cooler and the air feels clean and has a crispness to it, but the sun still shines warm. The leaves are just beginning to turn here in Oregon's Willamette valley, and the days are noticeably shorter. Fall is delicious. And cozy. I want to burn candles and sip cider and go for walks and pick pumpkins. I'm glad for Fall, and can't wait to be able to get ouside and enjoy it!
Here are a few updates on how things are going:

• I'm feeling a little more strength, but still need to spend most of my time on the couch or sitting in a chair. It's hard not to feel discouraged, but I know that this time will pass. It's good to be able to rest and heal, physically and otherwise. The grief is not as intense now, but it's still there under the surface, waiting to spill over at any moment. We're being wonderfully taken care of by our families and friends. The hardest part for me is how it's affecting the kids, especially Peregrine. Please continue to pray for healing for me and grace and peace for all of us. We are so thankful for your prayers.
  
• My friend Paula is now 21 weeks pregnant and went in for an ultrasound yesterday. The baby is doing well, but in spite of the surgery her cervix is still trying to open. In three more weeks she will go in again and they will discuss admitting her to the hospital and beginning steroid treatment that would develop the baby's lungs in the likely case that it will be born prematurely. She would have to spend the rest of her pregnancy in the hospital. Please pray that God would allow that baby to stay in as long as it needs to, and that she will be able to remain at home where her family can care for her. Also, that their home would sell soon, as that would alleviate some of the financial stress.
• We're going to get started on Building Thinking Skills with Peregrine. We just got our package yesterday and are quite excited! We also got some new books, including the Adventures from Around the World Devotional Series, which are "chapter books" written by missionaries who have worked in differnent countries. Each chapter is a story that ends with an object lesson and Scripture verse. We are going to use these books, alongside some of the Christian Heroes Then and Now and Heroes of History books. Using them as a springboard we will learn about geography and different cultures in the context of world missions. We will also resume our Letter-of-the-Week fun and "play" with basic math concepts using manipulatives. We're not starting anything too officially yet, but these are some of the things I plan to do with him during this school year. He also just started swimming lessons this week and is loving it!
• Finally, a shameless plug for The Timberdoodle Company. It's a company run by a homeschooling family. They choose their products carefully and only sell things they believe are good quality in both content and construction. I've ordered from them a few times and have been amazed at how quickly they've packed and shipped my orders. For example, I placed my recent order on a Wednesday morning and it showed up on my doorstep Thursday evening! Granted, they're only one state away, but that's still fast! They're also very friendly and helpful, happy to answer questions to help you find products that will be a good fit for your family. I always feel like I learn and get ideas just from looking through their catalog!
  

I thank you again for your prayers and the many encouraging words you've left for me. I hope you all have a great weekend with your families.

Flexible

When I was in India with the Prodigal Project our team had it's very own beatitude. It was "Blessed are the flexible, for they shall not be broken." We often said it jokingly, but it was a good motto, for one of the few things you can count on there is that nothing will go as planned. Seriously, a train ride that should take 8 hours might take 19, the electricity might go out just as you're finishing up a long email, getting your visa renewed might take the better part of 6 days, and trying to find a bank that can help you in a city of two million people could prove futile. But, if you plan to live in such a place for any amount of time you learn to flow with it; either that, or you spend your days in a state of extreme frustration.
When I was single it was a lot easier for me to "flow with it", but now that I have a home and family to care for I find myself clinging more tightly to "my" plans and being less flexible than I used to. A lot of this is for practical reasons; my kids do better when they have their meals and naps and bedtime at roughly the same time each day and I save time and energy by planning and shopping for meals in advance. While we're not strictly scheduled in our days, we do have somewhat of a rhythm and all do better when we don't get too "off-beat". There was a time, many years ago, when God was teaching me to submit my plans to Him and I was more aware- and more welcoming- of the interruptions that inevitably happened. Instead of getting annoyed when unexpected things popped up I was learning to see God's hand in them and more joyfully cooperated with His schedule for my days.
The events of the last few months have shown me that I've forgotten that important lesson God taught me then and when I was in India- I need to be more flexible or else I'm going to break. Back in July I was so excited as I was finally tackling some big organizing projects and working on menu planning, etc. I felt like I was getting on top of things in an attempt to run my household more efficiently and peaceably. Then I had a month of morning sickness. There went any extra energy- it was all I could do to barely stay on top of things, let alone get anything extra done! Just as I was feeling better and thought I could get back to my plans we learned that our baby had died. I was floored and understood that old saying "I felt like the carpet was ripped out from under me." After a week-and-a-half of waiting the miscarriage happened and I hemorrhaged, leaving me weak and couch-bound for at least a week. Well, on Saturday my week was up and I was feeling a lot better- not normal by any means, but like I could be up and around a bit. By yesterday my heart was pounding anytime I got up and my chest was tight. I talked with my friend Paula, a nurse, who's on strict bed-rest right now for complications with her first pregnancy. I told her how I was feeling and she gave me a long lecture, as only a best friend/nurse can do! She said, like the doctor had told me, that if my heart is pounding when I stand up I'm overdoing it and need to stop. She also said that if I don't then it will take me twice as long to recover and I'm not doing anyone a favor by trying do more than I should right now. And so on and so forth, et-cetera, et-cetera, et-cetera!
So it's back to the couch for me. (And the computer chair!) But, for now, no more getting up to get things, getting the kids dressed, loading the dishwasher, etc. I need to rest! Which means that on top of just the normal everyday things I can't do, I have to lay my other plans aside for now, and probably for a good while. I've been thinking a lot about Proverbs 16:9 which says "A man's heart plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps." It's okay for me to make plans and schedules for myself and my household, but they need to be submitted to the Lord, and I need to acknowledge His right to direct us differently. Then I need to keep my eyes and heart open to see what He has for me when things just don't go the way I thought they should.
His ways are so much higher than ours. I thought it would be good for me to try to get my home in better order and my kids into more of a routine; He thought it would be better for me to lay on the couch and be cared for by others. I thought it would be great when I was really on top of things; He wanted to bring me to a place of being unable to do anything. Could He be trying to show me how much I need Him and His strength by causing me for a time to be completely dependent on others? Wouldn't it be better for my kids if their Mama was the one to clothe and bathe and feed and play with them? I would think so, but maybe through this their Mama will learn something more valuable, something that will make me more like Jesus, and therefore a better, more loving Mama to them. There's something going on that's so much bigger than my plans and ideas, and I need to have my heart open to what that is. It's a hard lesson to learn, but I hope that God's purposes for us right now will be accomplished. And I hope that in the future I will remember this and remain a lot more flexible.