quotable

A Warning to My Readers

by Wendell Berry

Do not think me gentle

because I speak in praise
of gentleness, or elegant
because I honor the grace
that keeps this world. I am
a man crude as any,
gross of speech, intolerant,
stubborn, angry, full
of fits and furies. That I
may have spoken well
at times, is not natural.
A wonder is what it is.

brown-eyed girl

Ten days ago our Leah turned 8.  Here's a brief, belated recap of her special day.

Leah drew a picture on the marker board of what she wanted her cake to look like.  I did my best!

Opening her birthday gift while we Skype with Grandpa and Uncle Jer...

...and Jer and Nath being silly.

Birthday supper...

 ready for bed...

a rose from Caleb - thank you, Caleb! -

and a darling bag that Grammy sewed just for her new piano lesson books - thank you, Grammy!

(Leah asks, "How did you know that my favorite color is purple?!")

It's fun to give gifts to Leah because she's so very appreciative.  She comes walking out of her bedroom the day she opened her birthday present, tears in her eyes.  "Mom, I just started crying in my bedroom...I'm just so happy!  I love my cake!  I have everything I've ever wanted!  And I never thought you would let me take piano lessons!"  And then she gives hugs and kisses and more hugs.  She was still feeling grateful five days later - here's the message she left on the marker board for B.J. and I:

Love you, brown-eyed girl!

anniversary

Feeling a lot worn out and a little homesick today.

B.J. left for Teachers' Convention in MI on Wednesday; he flies home tomorrow.

It is a beautiful Sunday here - a clear, crisp autumn day, not unlike the lovely day I'm remembering, one year ago: Happy One Year, Kurt and Val!

choosing this romance

During the second semester of my freshman year at Dordt, I had no break on Tuesdays and Thursdays from 8AM American Lit 'til Chorale dismissed at 2:00 in the afternoon.  After Chorale, I'd make my way to the Commons, scan my ID card, chat with Donna, and head to the back for a sack lunch (they closed the serving line at 1:00.)  I'd unpack my grub on the old loveseat in the dorm room that Rochelle and I shared, East Hall, Room 312.  Same fare every time: a sub sandwich, potato chips, an apple, and a chocolate chip cookie.  And every time I'd put my feet up and flip through the channels as I munched.  

I don't remember any more what I was watching.  A documentary?  A Wedding Story?  What I do remember is the big black man, his fuzzy hair graying at the temples, and the question posed him: could he share the secret to staying happily married for decades, as he and his wife had?  How did they do it?

"How did we do it?" he echoes.  "How did we do it?  Oh, I'll tell 'ya how we did it."

He leans forward, his elbows on the armrest of his chair, his eyes bulging over the top of wide-rimmed glasses.

"In da mornin', we'd a wake up, and we'd a roll ovah, and we'd a look at da person on da othah side of da bed, and we'd a say, 'Dis...dis...dis is gonna be mah romance.'"  

And he leans back in his chair and pushes the specs up his shiny nose with a broad index finger for emphasis.

"Das how we did it."

Three weeks ago today B.J. and I celebrated our 9th wedding anniversary.  His Mom was here that week, so when B.J. got home from school we took 1-month old Eli with us up to Estes in the S10, me riding in the middle.  We ate supper at a cozy little lodge with a Spanish guitarist and a view of the sun setting over the mountains newly dusted with snow.  

We asked Mom to snap a picture of the two of us before we left.

Hold the phone - student on the line (big science project due tomorrow.  :-)

The yellow aspens and snowy peaks reminded us of our honeymoon in Alaska.  The kids were just in bed when we got home, so we sat up and watched our honeymoon video with Mom.  I laughed at the silly, flirtatious selves we were back then until I had tears running down my face.

These nine years have flown.  I definitely feel older than I did then.  There are dark circles under my eyes and bags and lines in places where they didn't used to be.  The responsibility of five children has both of us acting less flighty as well.

But, by the grace of God, we both are more aware of how abundantly blessed we are.

More aware that having a healthy marriage requires saying "no" to your own selfish interests and "yes" to investing in your relationship with your spouse.

More aware that marriages - even those marriages closest to us - are under attack in the pornographic, self-absorbed, godless society in which we live.

More aware than ever that love is a choice, and that romance doesn't just happen.

Happy 9 years and 3 weeks, B.J.

Here's to waking up tomorrow morning, and the next morning, and the morning after that...and choosing this romance.

I love you.

S-M-I-L-E

"A merry heart makes a cheerful countenance..."

Proverbs 15:13a

Oct 31 - Not the Holiday You Might Think

My column for this week's Enterprise.

                From where I’m curled up with a cup of tea, I can see the neighbor’s ash tree, gleaming golden.  Leaves dance in the wake of the cars that drive through the yellow carpet it’s strewn on the street.  I can hear our kids raking the backyard and chattering about last night’s bonfire, debating the best part: was it the hayrides, the hot chocolate, or the parade of pumpkins that lined the driveway?  The bright blue sky overhead caps off the day like a jaunty bowler. 

                Autumn has long been my favorite season of the year.  I relish crisp “sweater weather,” steamy apple cider, and the barrage of spicy-sweet scents from the candles that line the entrance of the nearby hobby store.  There is one aspect to this season that I’ve not considered much before this year, however: Halloween.  When one lives four miles from the nearest town, which numbers around 500 people, trick-or-treaters don’t make the trek.  So before we moved within city limits several months ago, the only exposure our children had to the holiday was a glimpse of the costume aisle at Wal-Mart as we careened past on our way to the toothpaste.  But when our next-door neighbors started stringing orange lights last month and the couple across the street peppered their front door with bat and ghost window-clings, I knew we probably wouldn’t be able to skirt the subject this year.

                What’s a Christian to do with Halloween?  Google that or poll a few people from your church, and you’ll discover a debate that’s as sticky as those cobwebs that come in a can.  Some do their best to ignore that the holiday exists.  Others think its fine to dress their children in some of the tamer costumes and take them trick-or-treating.  Still others host “Hallelujah” parties or “Trunk or Treat” in their churches’ parking lots.  In the next couple of weeks, many a Christian teen will watch a horror movie or visit a haunted house – or haunted corn maze, whatever the case may be).  When I was younger, Halloween didn’t seem to be as big of deal, but it’s now been commercialized into a multi-billion dollar industry – this summer the witches and wigs appeared in our grocery store along with the school supplies. 

Perhaps it is wise to consider Halloween’s origins.  Already before Christ’s birth, the day we know as Halloween was part of a Celtic fire festival that marked the beginning of the winter season.   At this festival Druid priests offered sacrifices to pagan gods and goddesses and attempted to communicate with the spirits of deceased ancestors.  Many people wore masks – some to enhance their likelihood that they would connect with the spirit world and others to ward off evil spirits.  Masked participants went door-to-door seeking contributions of food that they believed would protect the donors from evil spirits and ensure their future prosperity.  This fire festival persisted in spite of the growth of Roman Empire and the subsequent spread of Christianity to the British Isles.  In an attempt to assert the authority of the Church and infuse the pagan festival with Christianity, Gergory IV, who was pope during the 8^th century, moved the Roman Catholic celebrations of All Hallowed Evening and All Saints’ Day from May to October 31 and November 1.  Eventually, “All Hallowed Evening” was condensed to “Halloween.”  Halloween was imported to the United States along with immigrants from the Isles during the 1800s. 

 While the origins of Halloween are pagan, one might argue that Halloween as we know it is much more lighthearted and therefore not blatantly anti-Christian.  In light of that argument, it’s worth noting that there is a small but growing population in our nation who take Halloween very seriously.  In my last column I mentioned a conversation with the director of the crisis pregnancy center in the town where I live.  While we were visiting that day, I asked her what percentage of the women who came to the center were Christians.  She estimated about 50 percent.  And the other 50?  Atheists, most of them, and a small but growing number of Wiccans.  That trend is consistent nation-wide.  Wiccans - that is, modern-day pagans or practicing witches who celebrate Halloween as the first day of their new year –account for the fastest growing religious group in the United States.  Why their sudden surge?  Two probable reasons:  Wicca does not acknowledge absolute good or absolute evil, and it promotes glorification of the inner self.  Both characteristics fit perfectly in our post-modern age.

Anyway, back to my original question: what’s a Christian supposed to do with Halloween?  Well, already in the Old Testament God forbade any association with witches and wizards.  That seems pretty clear.  And not long ago we considered 1 Corinthians 10, in which Paul states that the food that the pagans offered to their idol gods and goddesses they really offered to devils, “and I do not want you to have fellowship with demons.”  What about Paul’s words to the saints in Ephesus in Ephesians 5?  “For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Walk as children of light (for the fruit of the Spirit is in all goodness, righteousness, and truth), finding out what is acceptable to the Lord. And have no fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness, but rather expose them. For it is shameful even to speak of those things which are done by them in secret.”  These Ephesians were those who had once practiced pagan magic, or, as the KJV puts it in Acts 19, “curious arts.”  Do you remember what they did with their books, which were worth 50,000 pieces of silver?  They heaped them together and burned them in public.  The next verse of that chapter tells us that the Word of God grew mightily and prevailed among these saints.  Likely they didn’t allow their children to even pretend to participate in the traditions that were part of their former religion.  While we might associate Halloween with harmless fun, it’s interesting to me that until the last two decades, Halloween was generally not celebrated outside of the British Isles and the United States – in fact, I read that many from other cultures are horrified by America’s flippant handling of spiritual things – an attitude that manifests itself especially at this time of the year.

When I stop to consider October 31, I realize that the day presents us with opportunities.  Just as the apostle Paul took advantage of the altar on Mars Hill to preach Jesus Christ to the men of Athens (Acts 17), so we can take advantage of Halloween’s fascination with the morbid to witness to our neighbor: death and the grave are real, but those who know Christ need not fear, for He has conquered both.  We have the opportunity to teach our children that Satan is not a character dressed in red and sporting horns, but a very real and powerful adversary who prowls like a lion – and yet, we need not fear his power, for our King has crushed his head.  We also have the opportunity to teach our children about the Reformation, which, in God’s providence, was instigated by Martin Luther on October 31.  Tell them that thanks to God’s work through the Reformers, we are free to read our Bibles whenever we wish.  Thanks to His work through the Reformers, we are freed from the heresy that demands we work or even pay money in an attempt to justify ourselves before the holy God.  Perhaps we could spend the evening reading to them from Little Pilgrim’s Progress, Simonetta Carr’s Christian biographies for young readers, or William Boekenstein’s story of Guido de Bres.  October 31 presents us with the opportunity to celebrate.  It’s a day we can dedicate to remembering our God’s faithfulness to His saints throughout history and His preservation of the glorious Word that saves us from this dark night of sin.  Now there’s something worth celebrating! 

tramp

No one sports static quite like Little Man...

Sometimes I still refer to Nath as my baby.  "Come 'ere, baby," I'll say.

"No!" he replies.  "Nate-Nate big!  E-why baby!"

And he's right.

Eli is the baby.

And he is getting big.

Big enough that when I ask for a smile, I get all sorts of bizarre expressions...

Love you, Little Man!

sweetie pie

The fetching little face that makes all those diaper changes and middle-of-the-night feedings more than worth it.  :-)

monster

If ever I feel melancholy or homesick, it is no fault of our church family here.  They have been abundantly good to us.  Between meals brought in and leftovers from those meals, I didn't make supper until Eli was 1 month old.  Another family graciously transports Leah and Willem to and from school three days a week.  A number of you know them quite well - in fact, you're related to them (and I thought you especially would enjoy the photos below.  :-)

Karl, a junior, drives Leah on Tuesdays and Thursdays.  He's usually in his neat 1970 mustard-colored Chevy pick-up, which Leah refers to as "the monster truck."

You should've seen her face yesterday morning when he pulled up in this!

photo shoot

When B.J.’s Mom was here she and I took our four youngest to the garden down the street to take their once-a-year posed photos.  (I feel a little rusty when I look at your shots, Val!)  Leah and I took her pictures there the following Saturday.  Here are a few photographs of the children who fill our home with life, laughter, and love – and who are growing so very quickly!

Princess Marie...

Wild-man Will...

Eli patiently waiting his turn...

 

Smiley Nath...

Aw, shucks...Eli's turn, and he's now fast asleep.  Well, anyway, here's our 1-month old sweetheart in his baptism outfit (which my sister Erin sewed nearly seven years ago for cousin Evan.  Eli's the sixth boy to wear it - after Evan, Willem, Luke, Nathan, and Ryan.)

S-T-R-E-T-C-H!  (But he still won't open his eyes.)

Here comes big brother to help wake him up...

No dice.

Let's turn him on his tummy...ah-ha!  We have eyes.  Beautiful eyes, at that.

Those first few of Nathan were a little silly...maybe we can get a better shot?

Well...he's two.  What'd you expect - that'd he'd rather sit on a crocodile statue and pack it's mouth full of sand?  Precisely.  ;-)

Now for my Leah.  (I look at these pictures and I feel...old.  :-)

The end.

Hope you enjoyed our photo shoot!