Breaking the Rules

We are raised believing certain myths. Part of my awakening this year, was recognizing that these myths are merely mainstream nonsense. Children grow up and they are to attend public school. We have them checked yearly, in the early years, and immunized from diseases. A privileged life is one of financial success. If we show our children how working pays off by buying "stuff" we are good parents because we can provide. But what seems to be happening is that children only know to expect more. When is enough enough?

Public school, at one time, was a quality education. But laws and politics involved in basically anything that has to do with our children's future, is scary. I want my children to grow up with a mind to question and analyze. I don't want them to accept what they are told. They need to learn to reason in a safe environment. Our Christian values are in the forefront of everything in our life. This means it comes FIRST. First thing before learning, prayer.

With all the misinformation floating around on the Internet, newspapers, etc., how can I be sure that putting anything into our bodies is safe? Because they say so? Who is they? Drug companies? I have been reading a lot about immunizations and what are in the ingredients and it should be enough for a pause of concern. It is okay to question and say no if we are not comfortable. We do not have to follow the "norm" because we are told that is best for us. God gave us free will and no one can take that away from us.

When I started buying raw milk for my family, many people cringed and told me all sort of myths about how unsafe it is. This is actually not at all the case. We buy from an inspected source and were careful in making this choice. Going a different direction does not mean an uninformed decision. That is one of the greatest myths I have found. It is just a matter of sorting through the garbage and finding what is honest and truthful information in a world concerned with money and power.

Mike and I talked to a man at church last week and he said something we found very interesting. We were talking about possibly fostering a child but maybe not having the room in our house. The man looked at my husband and said . . . well we used to fill our houses with people and now we fill it with stuff. How sad.

Focus on the Family

"Supper is only the occasion, the excuse. The subject is actually family -- establishing, enjoying, and maintaining ties. The goal is creating and reinforcing a secure place for your loved ones in a society that can seem awfully uninterested in human needs."
 -Miriam Weinstein. The Surprising Power of Family Meals: How Eating Together Makes Us Smarter, Stronger, Healthier and Happier. 2005. pg. 242.

   It is amazing how something as simple as food can be the great equalizer, bringing a family together. We have our challenges with homeschooling, finances, and overall attitudes but sitting down as a family for a meal wipes the slate clean.

   First we pray. Mike and I are softened by the sound of our children's voices praying for others. They look like little angels with their eyes closed tight and hands clasped. Then we talk about the meal. This encourages the kids to try new things and since there is no hurry, they take the time to experiment. Now we can work on manners. How many of our children these days know to put a napkin in their lap or how to correctly use a fork? 

   We eat slower, laugh in between bites and tell stories about our day. This emphasizes the importance of family and teaches children to be thankful for every bite. Nobody gets up until all are done so there is no rush. If everyone finishes their food, there is rumor of dessert. Tyson eats every last pea in anticipation of a sweet surprise. He prides himself on this great accomplishment.

   The hustle in our society is inevitable and sometimes in the excitement, the "little things" get put aside. Mike and I did this for years. We fed our kids mac and cheese and hotdogs and then BBQed steaks for us. The kids would sit at the table, where they wouldn't be able to spill, and we sat in recliners. We never realized what opportunities we were missing. We gave up the only thing that was important.

When One Door Closes . . .

“When one door closes, another opens; but we often look so long and so regretfully upon the closed door that we do not see the one which has opened for us.” -Alexander Graham Bell

   Nothing could have prepared be for the text from my husband early Friday morning . . . "FireD."

 

   Many thoughts ran through my head: he's joking . . . It's Christmastime . . . wait, why?

 

The night before my husband was involved in a . . . mishap. 

 

   The roads to Idaho City were icy and Mike was asked to haul this bulldozer for his company. The trailer got stuck and in an effort to try to clear traffic, the dozer fell to its side. No body was hurt and there was little, if any, damage. We were just thankful that Mike was safe.

 

   The next morning, Mike went into work and was fired. He worked for the company for 5 years without one infraction. No warnings. No accidents. Anyone who drives a truck or operates equipment is in the difficult position of possibly making mistakes. Apparently, we were not allowed one. Many other employees in the past who have had accidents have been allowed to continue but for whatever reason, Mike was not. I panicked at first. We have NO income. It is the first time in a long time that I don't even have any sort of part-time job.

 

   So, my husband gathered his tools and paperwork and left the job we depended on for our sole income. As scary as it was, we both had a sense of peace. The way he was fired and treated was so bizarre, we felt it had to be some sort of hidden blessing. We believe God knew that we have turned down other opportunities to stay with the safety of this company. He knew that he had to take "staying with current company" out of the equation for us to move forward. 

 

   There is a strange sense of freedom that comes from being unemployed. I pray we do not become very familiar with that type of freedom, but it is exciting to watch our future unfold. Obviously there is something else. 

   After I received the text, I cried a little, explained to the children what happened and then went into my "mode." Instant fix-it. I jumped on Craigslist and the IdahoWorks website. I found a crane operator job conveniently just posted in Boise. Apparently, they need a certain type of crane operator, one with a truck driver's license (CDL). Mike!

   He drove from his previous place of employment to the office where this job was offered. Fresh off of the jobsite and in his coveralls, they spoke about the opportunity to run the truck crane full-time. He was asked to return on Monday afternoon. 

   If not for the accident, Mike wouldn't have been fired. If he wasn't fired, I wouldn't have even been looking at opportunities. Even if we had, we wouldn't have left what we considered a "safe" job to enter the unknown. But the reality is that what we perceive is "safe" is often an illusion. It suffocates our freedom as we are willing to give up possibilities for what gets us by. What does that say about our society. What does that show our children. 

   And it really is just an illusion because nothing is a "sure-thing."

 

The Classics

There is something about the classics. When we are done with our home studies, I often allow the kids to watch TV. Not modern television.

What can we learn from old movies? The classics represent a different time in America. This time was family centered. The humor is wholesome.  Nostalgic music accompanies the story. Children show respect to their elders and if caught bullying, they have consequences.

Modern Christmas movies are disturbing. I find myself fast forwarding through sex scenes and bad language . . . ON THE FAMILY CHANNEL! Yesterday, I turned on White Christmas. The kids are more open to black and white TV because they have been introduced to it since they were young but they did protest the seemingly boring Christmas classic. There really is something about the classics though. What the movies lack in visual color, it makes up in song. They were fixated on the old Christmas carols and dancing.

It's a joke around here than when I am feeling down, we turn on I Love Lucy but it is truly therapeutic for me. Today, with so much focus on reality television, it's is comforting to stop, take a step back and visit a simpler era.

Where are you Christmas?

On our way home from a memorial service yesterday, I heard the song entitled "Where are you Christmas?" Emotional overload. Up until this year, Christmas represented a cheerful and magical time. Childlike excitement mixed with our faith in Jesus Christ. This year is different somehow. Maybe it is through grief. Maybe it is my new outlook on this evil world. But for the first time I can honestly say, I don't want anything material for Christmas. Instead, I want the commercialism that is mocking this holiday and masking itself as "the giving season" to disappear. Imagine if Christmas was really just a time we got together as family and friends. The sad thing is I had to add "just" as if it were a tiny increment of the holiday.

At first I thought this was a bad thing. I thought that I lost my Christmas spirit but yesterday my cousin mentioned, that just maybe I have finally found it. Perhaps the sadness I feel is not a loss of spirit but instead compassion. Where has that feeling been all those years? Masked in pretty paper and tiny lights.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VQ7W6bsvBCo

"7 Experiment" Mutiny on Excess--Clothing

 "But Mom, I don't have anything to wear . . . " 

Originally, we were going to start this "lesson" with food but given the fact that every morning we have this argument, we rearranged the theme for the week. 

 

This is why they feel they have no clothes. All of these clothes were clean, stuffed into desk drawers, under the bed and basically every crevice of their room. I tore through their area, piling up all of the clothing they claimed didn't exist.

Then, I boxed and bagged up every single piece of clothing other than 7 pieces for each of them. I chose which items they had in their drawer and everything else disappeared.

*I did allow unlimited underwear and socks. But I explained that we are fortunate for this as many do not have these means of personal hygiene.

In the beginning of this experiment, my oldest daughter thought it sounded fun (more likely she knew she had less clothes to put away). Our younger daughter Maddie looked at me like I had just stripped her of her most prize possessions. No more fancy cowgirl shirts and hats. The fit began as a common scowl and turned into an all out meltdown. Because I took away her clothes, I was going to take away everything. "You are probably getting rid of the horses too!" 

By the end of the week, the girls barely even noticed the missing clothes. They just opened their drawer and grabbed whatever was in there. Clothing was for comfort and warmth only. It simplified their week!

Yesterday, we made a big deal about going through all of the clothes I had put away. One by one we rated whether they were necessary or if we could donate them. The girls were engaged in the process and honest about whether they could do without. I was impressed with their attitudes. Maddie even said "WOW! We have a lot of clothes!" 

Exactly.

It Takes a Village

It has been said, "It takes a village to raise a child." That means that it takes a village to help a the family of that child. It takes a community who may or may not even personally know the family or the child.

Part of our duty and privilege as Christians is to spread God's love and His promise openly. We are called to minister to our friends, neighbors and strangers. Who needs to witness the power of love and grace more than a grieving family? Many of us are hesitant to intrude, don't know how to help or what to say. When we lost my brother years ago, I remember those who came to the door and said just that. It meant the world to us during that devastating time.

Loss is, at its core, humanizing. When we lose someone we love, we survive day by day for a time. In the beginning shock is our friend. It allows us to get the job done. When shock, like pain medication wears off, it is excruciating. The worst part of it is that by then, most people have already moved on.

So, I am asking this great community of both Christians and Non-Christians alike to help us support the Cook family of Kuna/Nampa this Christmas. So far, close to $1000 has been generously donated to help with funeral and/or living expenses during this difficult time. If we all dropped off a small donation to the Cook Family Fund at our local Idaho Central Credit Union, we could not only take the financial burden off of this grieving family, but we can help them have a Christmas. 

Grief

It was a typical morning here . . . Ty cuddled with me while we all watched one of those sappy Christmas movies . . . when I heard the sirens. So many sirens. I immediately thought of my friends who live in Kuna. But then, the sirens stopped. I looked at the window and saw a fleet of police vehicles, ambulances and fire trucks. I thought I would just walk out to the street and see if it was a familiar vehicle. As I got closer to the scene of the accident I saw orange. School bus orange. I walked faster, trying to see the bus number. The whole right side of the bus was so mangled that I could not read it. The scene unfolded . . . children on stretchers. I could not see their faces. I recognized a neighbor and she told me it was bus 11. Maddie's bus. Only, months ago, I chose to homeschool her and pulled her from the bus route. Maddie would have been the last pick up before the crash. One little boy was killed in this horrific accident. Unfortunately, I was there when his parents were told.

I came back into the house and hugged my children, so thankful we made the decision we did. But then it felt wrong because there were so many others affected. I felt guilty for being so relieved. When we put our children on the bus, they are supposed to be safe. I cannot imagine these parents grief. How utterly shocked and helpless the parents must have felt who didn't know their children were safe at home.

I realized that had Maddie still been riding the bus, I would have watched the accident. I would have seen the bus whip around and I would have been first on scene. I would have heard the terrified cries and screaming. The would-haves haunt me but the loss of this little boy breaks my heart; the ultimate "would have." Helplessness consumes me so I pray for the family.

7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess

On the subject of Black Friday . . . Yesterday, while in the church nursery, Mike introduced me to a lady he had been talking to about this very subject. She brought to our attention 7: An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess by Jen Hatmaker. The idea: An exercise in simplicity. Take 7 areas of excess in western life and reduce to simple choices: Food, clothes, Possessions, Media, Waste, Spending and Stress. Below is an excerpt from the publication:

   "So what used to be comfortable (being a big fat consumer Christian) became uncomfortable; then what was uncomfortable (engaging the poor) became comfortable. Follow? Perhaps I gave up emotional comfort for awhile, but then God affirmed Himself as our provider, established the vision He gave us, and taught me how to love. The uncomfortable turned into our life's mission, and we would never go back.
   That said, a new tension began lurking. The catalyst was the week we housed twelve evacuees from Hurricane Ike. Our little church, four months old at the time, took in eighty strangers from the coast that had nowhere to go. We moved our three kids into our bedroom, washed sheets, bler up mattresses, rolled out sleeping bags, and readied the house for an onslaught. As carloads arrived and we welcomed them in, one ten-year-old boy walked into our home, looked around with huge eyes, and hollered:
   "Dad! This white dude is RICH!"
   We are.
   For years I didn't realize this because so many others had more. We were surrounded by extreme affluence, which tricks you into thinking you're in the middle of the pack. I mean, sure, we have 2400 square feet for only 5 humans to live in, but our kids have never been on an airplane, so how rich could we be? We haven't traveled to Italy, my kids are in public schools, and we don't even own a time-share. (Roll eyes here.)
   But it gets fuzzy once you spend time with people below your rung. I started seeing my stuff with fresh eyes, realizing we had everything. I mean everything. We've never missed a meal or even skimped one one. We have a beautiful home in a great neighborhood. Our kids are in a Texas exemplary school. We drive two cars under warranty. We've never gone a day without health insurance. Our closets are overflowing. We throw away food we didn't eat, clothes we barely wore, trash that will never disintegrate, stuff that fell out of fashion. 
    And I was so blinded I didn't even know we were rich.
   How can I be socially responsible if unaware that I reside in the top percentage of wealth in the world? (You probably do too: Make $35,000 a year? Top 4%. $50,000? Top 1 percent. Excess has impaired perspective in America; we are the richest people on earth, praying to get richer. We're tangled in unmanageable debt while feeding the machine, because we feel entitled to more. What does it communicate when half the global population lives on less than $2 a day, and we can't manage a fulfilling life on twenty-five thousand times that amount? Fifty-thousand times that amount?
   It says we have too much and it is ruining us. " -Jen Hatmaker 7 An Experimental Mutiny Against Excess

   The idea is intriguing. Take one area of excess at a time and simplify. Choose 7 foods, no more and live on this for a time . . . 7 days or a month? Need to pray about it . . . Not only will this rock our spoiled American lives but it will allow for perspective.