Call Her Naomi

There is a sweet sequel to my "Crazy Eight" blog post from last fall. She is three weeks old today. We called her Naomi (nay-OH-mee). 

Naomi Grace

7 lbs. 9 oz.

20 inches

March 9, 2018 at 12:45 PM

"Thy hands have made me and fashioned me: give me understanding, that I may learn thy commandments" (Psalm 119:73).

Last July, during the very earliest weeks of my pregnancy with Naomi, I began a couple of blog posts. The first one, which I titled "My Highest Good," was to be a response to one convicting word in a sermon preached in our church by Seminarian M.K. last June. That's right: one word. That word was "highest." In expounding Proverbs 16:9, which was the text of the sermon (if I recall correctly), Sem. K. pointed out that in his counsel God's works the highest good possible in the lives of each of his children. I realized in the course of that sermon that although I confess, "All things work together for good to them that love God," I don't often conceive of the good that He works as my highest good. Wouldn't my highest good include being able to sit through an entire sermon? Or sleeping through through the night? In the earliest weeks of my pregnancy, I was sure God couldn't possibly be working the highest good of my children, either. Wouldn't their highest good include a mother with enough energy to better care for them? Wouldn't the highest good of the little one in my womb include a mother who was exuberant about his or her life, not overcome with anxiety about carrying and caring for another child? 

"Do you know what text comes to my mind when I think about the past 14 years of my life?" I asked my husband. "The one about the earth being shaken, so that only the things that can't be shaken remain." I explained, "With every additional child God gives us, I feel like I'm being shaken harder and harder. I only have time left now for the absolutely necessities." As it turned out, this blog was one of those things that fell away, and I never published the second post I'd begun, either: "Things That Cannot Be Shaken."

Two days ago, I was musing on a phrase from Ephesians 3:20, the one which describes our God as "him that is able to exceedingly abundantly above all we ask or think." The day following, yesterday, I came across that text in one of the books I'm reading, Parenting by Paul David Tripp. (Thanks to my sister Sherry for recommending it. :-) While reading that book, I considered for the first time the phrase that immediately follows the one above: "According to the power that worketh in us." What a wonder that measure by which the apostle Paul measures God's almighty power is His work in us! How we sell short the work of His Spirit! Yet through His work in us he accomplishes our highest good: He conforms us to the image of His Son.

I'm thankful that He's continued to work in me, even though most of life is consumed by feeding, clothing, and discipling the eight children that He's given to B.J. and me. In fact, it's through those mundane, repetitive tasks that He strengthens with might by His Spirit my inner man (Eph. 3:16). It's my prayer that you see the power of His work in yourself as well.

And in the process of stripping me of my bitterness, our Father entrusted to B.J. and I a big-eyed, round-faced, sweet little girl. To echo the prayer that our doctor prayed in the hospital, we desire that  this child will be a pleasant, joyful person because she knows Jehovah as her sovereign Father and Jesus Christ as her Savior. That's why we called her Naomi. "Grace" is after Grandma. And I pray that it serves as a reminder to us of the grace we experienced throughout the past nine months, during labor and delivery, and throughout these three postpartum weeks. Grace given through the gifts, time, and meals of others. Grace that not only saves and glorifies, but also sanctifies. Grace that is sufficient for a mom and dad who lack adequate time, wisdom, kindness, and sleep. Grace sufficient for whatever trials you face today, too.

We love you, Naomi. You have already made our lives more pleasant and more joyful.

(Thanks to my mom and sister Bethany for traveling here last week to spend their spring break washing dishes, reading books, playing board games, and flying kites! How we cherish your help and your fellowship!)

Crazy Eight

The Problem with The Population Bomb

Early this summer Dr. Albert Mohler referred to the 1968 bestseller The Population Bomb on his daily news podcast The Briefing.  In that book, the author, Paul Ehrlich, warned that our planet would soon be overpopulated.  Among other things, he predicted that mass starvation would result in the deaths of half of all Americans by 1990.  Consequently, he argued for limited family size and compulsory abortions.  But none of Ehrlich’s doomsday predictions came true.  Though the world’s population has grown from 3.5 to 7.5 billion since 1968, Mohler noted on that podcast that a smaller percentage of people face starvation now than they did then.  What was the big mistake in Erlich’s reasoning?  He viewed the forthcoming members of Generations X, Y, and Z as consumers, not producers.  He calculated all the food they would consume and all the resources they would deplete but failed to consider all that they would produce.  These yet-to-be-born generations wouldn’t only eat, they would also work!  Their thinking, inventing, farming, and manufacturing would contribute to the worldwide GDP.

It occurred to me the other day that Erlich’s view of people as consumers, not producers, was precisely my problem.  The kids and I had just finished breakfast, and they had helped with the obligatory table clearing, but haphazardly.  Milk puddled on the floor in the vicinity of James’s high chair.  Sticky but rapidly dehydrating Cheerios clung to Sean’s seat.   Somehow the Table Washer had circumnavigated a rather large pool of jam and a cinnamon-and-sugar spill.  The majority of these breakfast-consuming little people had boisterously migrated to the living room, where a myriad K’nex almost instantaneously carpeted the floor.  Add a glimpse of that to the Cheerios now stuck to my shoe, the precarious stacks of dirty dishes on the counter, and a clingy, feverish, teething one-year-old, and I felt as if a population bomb had indeed detonated, and that in my own home.  I started to attack the carnage, loading the dishwasher a little more furiously than necessary, mentally listing all the things on my to-do list that I was sure I would not accomplish that day, while James, strapped in a hiking backpack, fussed in my left ear.

But just as things in my own heart were about to go from bad to worse, it occurred to me that my thinking was a lot like that of Paul Erlich.  I was treating my children as if they were only consumers, and it is when I permit them to carry on as if that is indeed all that they are, that my resources, energy, and Christian perspective are rapidly depleted.

The fact of the matter is, when children are born they are enlisted into their family unit.  This is a mandatory draft: all members are fit for service and will be called up for active duty.  That’s a daily matter not of if, but when.  Not of if, but what.  Shortly after I’d considered this, I was loading the dishwasher, backpack free, while Will strolled James around the block, Marie mopped up the milk, Sean scouted for Cheerios, and Eli and Nathan headed downstairs to sort the laundry.

People sometimes comment to me, “I don’t know how you do it all.”  When I hear that, I’m tempted to lament my life right along with them, “I don’t know, either.”  I am not one of those moms who’s able to say, “Oh, once you have [fill in a number] children, adding another on is no big deal.”  It’s been a big deal to me seven times over.  Yes, the tater-tot casserole that fed eight stretches to feed nine pretty easily.  (Though I have a sneaking suspicion that our food damages are going to grow exponentially in the future.)  But the weight of the responsibility for an eternal human soul is the same whether that soul belongs to your first child or your fifth.  True, along with the heavier weight of responsibility comes a greater weight of joy.  (When I once complained about my workload, a perceptive single friend convicted me by calling my attention to that point.)  But the fact of the matter is, I don’t do it all.  I can’t.  And it’s when I start acting like I can that things fall apart around here.  The little people around me are capable producers.  It’s true, they consume a lot more than they produce at first, but not long and they can entertain the baby, vacuum rugs, flip grilled cheese, and put away the laundry.  And in fact, they thrive when they learn these tasks, do them well, and receive loving praise and the reassurance that they are an important and contributing member of their family unit.

In short, being a mom of many children has put my managerial skills to the test.  Honestly, I would prefer rolling up my sleeves to facing the objections that so often follow conscription or orchestrating a wash-cloth folding boot camp.  But I’m blessed and my children are blessed when I wisely delegate so that all members of this family work together for the benefit of the whole.  And when we live that way, the Lord willing, we'll all be better prepared to face the future assignments that await us in this spiritual battle in which we’re enlisted. 

Hello, Summer

"Hello, Summer"?

Seeing as we are actually approaching the end of month one of summer vacation, that title is a bit off.  But in some ways I feel as I've been doing a month-long bob in the deep end and have just surfaced, here, at the computer, gasping for air.  From that point of view, I guess the title fits.  It's not that I haven't enjoyed summer thus far.  I have.  It's been warm and wonderful, invigorating and...intense.  In fact...yes, indeed...my dictionary's definition of "intense" reads "summer vacation with seven young children." (Never you mind exactly what dictionary that is. ;-)

Below are some photos to bring you up to speed on the late "May-hem" and merrymaking of the Mowerys.

Our sweet James Elliot turned 1 on May 4.  His one-year photos were reminiscent of Nathan's - he only smiled big by Dad.

Our silly Sean Edward turned 3 on May 19.

Nathan and his kindergarten class at graduation.

The entire school.

The highlight for the kindergarteners is the party in the church basement that follows the ceremony.  The morning of graduation Nathan said to me, "This is going to be the best day of my life."  ;-)

My Mother's Day gift from Will (a hot pink lava lamp :-D) was a big hit with the kids.

B.J. had one week off before heading back to school, this time as a student taking grad courses at CSU.  He stayed busy that week!  He built this bookshelf dollhouse for the girls...

...an arcade with the boys...

...and gave me my Mother's Day gift from him, a day all to myself.  I spent my favorite part of that day hiking and photographing at nearby Devil's Backbone.

Classic Eli.  :-)

We drove the hour to Rocky Mountain National Park this morning and hiked with the kids for a little while.

Beautiful Sprague Lake.

And we went to a car show, too.

Several members of our church family had cars in the show.

We pray that you are rejoicing in God's good gifts lately, too...no matter how intense your summer may be!  :-)

Quotable: Jesus, the Last Adam

For Christ’s first followers, His words at the Last Supper, His arrest, His trial, and crucifixion were a bewildering defeat. It was only in retrospect, when Jesus opened the Scripture to them, first on the road to Emmaus and later in the upper room, that they understood, and even then, not fully!

Only after Christ’s ascension could a restored Peter stand before Jerusalem and proclaim the punch line of Holy Week: “Let all of the house of Israel therefore know assuredly,” he said, “that God hath made him both Lord and Christ, this Jesus whom ye crucified.”

The rest of the New Testament shows how the Holy Spirit continued to reveal Christ’s presence throughout all of Scripture. Paul, for example, sees Jesus in the Bible’s very first chapters, calling Him “the Last Adam,” and contrasts the two men as heads of the human race. One failed and brought death on all His descendants. The other was faithful, bringing life through His death and resurrection.

And if we take the time to read Scripture more carefully, we see how deeply the parallels run. The ways in which Jesus is similar to, and yet better than Adam, are astonishing:

The first Adam yielded to temptation in a garden. The Last Adam beat temptation in a garden. The first man, Adam, sought to become like God. The Last Adam was God who became a man. The first Adam was naked and received clothes. The Last Adam had clothes but was stripped. The first Adam tasted death from a tree. The Last Adam tasted death on a tree. The first Adam hid from the face of God, while the Last Adam begged God not to hide His face.

The first Adam blamed his bride, while the Last Adam took the blame for His bride. The first Adam earned thorns. The Last Adam wore thorns. The first Adam gained a wife when God opened man’s side, but the Last Adam gained a wife when man opened God’s side. The first Adam brought a curse. The Last Adam became a curse. While the first Adam fell by listening when the Serpent said “take and eat,” the Last Adam told His followers, “take and eat, this is my body.”

We celebrate this last event today—Jesus’ final meal with His Disciples, and His new command that we “love one another.” In giving Christians this meal, He sealed His role as Adam’s replacement.

Do you remember how, when Mary Magdalene saw the risen Christ, she mistook Him for a gardener? Through His body and blood, the Last Adam restored what the Forbidden Fruit destroyed, inviting us back to a restored Garden-City in the New Heavens and Earth, where the tree of life grows around the throne of God, free for the taking. That’s what His story, our story, the story—and this week—are all about.

~ John Stonestreet and G. Shane Morris on 4.14.17 at www.breakpoint.org 

Good Friday Chapel

Marie and Nathan's classes (Grades K-2) recited and sang beautifully at our school's Good Friday Chapel this past Friday morning.

Below are videos of two of their songs and one of their recitations.

(Videos courtesy of Ray Ezinga.  :-)

James Elliot ~ 9 months

We are so very thankful for the privilege of bringing up this delightful little boy in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

Que Cheraw, Cheraw

B.J., Leah, Willem, Marie, and Nathan had Winter Break from school February 17-20.  (I know, I know...it's a Loveland thing.  ;-)  We spent the long weekend visiting "Grandma Kathy" in Cheraw, Colorado.

In September 2015 Michael, Grandma Kathy's son, was baptized and made confession of faith in our church.  He had been converted while incarcerated and learned of the PRC through his subsequent study of the Reformed faith and doctrine of the covenant.  He joined our church shortly after he had served his sentence.  Grandma Kathy spent a week in our home at that time and has wanted us to come visit ever since.  So Michael and we made the trip to his parents' home last weekend.

Cheraw is located about 4 1/2 hours southwest of Loveland.

I told my niece Kara that southeastern Colorado reminds me of the first line of the children's book Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch.  "As far as the eye could see there was nothing..."  On a clear day, however, you can make out Pike's Peak way in the distance.

208 people currently live in Cheraw.  Here is a picture of Main Street.  Michael's father, Mike, owns the shop on the left.

We ate lunch at Cheraw's Frontier Diner.

There's another line that comes to my mind when I consider this area of the country: "A place that time forgot."  It reminds me of the Rosebud Indian Reservation.  The houses are dirty, dilapidated or deserted.  Grandma Kathy's home was much nicer than many that we saw.  

The kids enjoyed playing in Grandma Kathy and Grandpa Mike's yard.  Notice the short sleeves?  We enjoyed 70-degree temps for most of "winter" break.

Leah and Marie were thrilled with the playhouse they built out of sticks, brush, and "treasures" they found lying around the property.

Cousin Kara's Flat Stanley came along on the trip.

Enjoying lunch together.

Hi, Sean.  

Mike and Kathy had one other son besides Michael.  His name was Mark, and he was killed in a car accident while Michael was prison.  Neither son married, and they have no grandchildren.  Kathy especially loves the girls.  She spent time going through her photo albums with them and even showed us her wedding dress.  Kathy is a tiny person.  She was 20 years old when she and Mike married, and she was 4' 4" and weighed 78 lbs.  Her wedding dress looked like a lacy ballgown for someone Marie's size.

Posing with Michael and Mike just before leaving on Saturday afternoon.

Closer views of Pike's Peak from the road.

I'm thankful for the time we spent in Cheraw.  (And nearby La Junta, where we slept in a clean but dated Econo Lodge.)  I'm thankful for the joy that our visit brought Kathy.  I'm thankful we had the opportunity to meet and witness to Michael's dad, who is not a Christian.  I'm thankful for the hospitality he and Kathy showed to our noisy, busy crew.  Most of all, I'm thankful for the abundant fruit of the Holy Spirit's seen in Michael's life.  Michael has his earthly father's keen mind and shares some of his physical characteristics, but in conversation and godly life he more closely resembles our heavenly Father.  Praise Him!

His Steadfast Love Will Not Depart

Click here to watch a 6-minute video featuring God's handiwork in the state of Colorado.  You'll catch glimpses of a couple of favorite places that we've visited since we moved here 4+ years ago.

Eli Sings (and Plays) "Jesus Loves Me"

A Dark Night and a Lonely Cave

Hello 2017!  Below is a belated Christmas column that I wrote for the Edgerton Enterprise.

Genesis 19:30-38 is one of those scripture passages that you’d like to avoid reading aloud at the supper table if you could.  The story of Lot comes to an appalling conclusion in that passage.  Once wealthy and highly esteemed, Lot has isolated himself and his two remaining daughters in a mountain cave.  The young women, certain that they will never have the opportunity to marry and bear children, get their wretched, unwitting father drunk and seduce him to commit incest with them. 

How did Lot end up in that lonely cave?  Jehovah had constrained him, his wife, and his unmarried daughters to flee Sodom, for He intended to destroy the city for its great and grievous sins.  As soon as Lot and his daughters entered Zoar, the Almighty rained down fire and brimstone.  Lot’s wife, who disobeyed the Lord’s word even as they escaped, was destroyed with the city that she loved.  Terrified Lot finds that he doesn't feel safe even in the small town of Zoar. He resorts to the mountains, the original destination to which the Angel of the Lord had commanded him. 

But how had Lot come to live in Sodom?  When God called Abraham from Ur of the Chaldees to sojourn in a land that He would show him, his fatherless nephew Lot accompanied him.  God had declared that he would make Abraham to be a blessing.  Lot was the first beneficiary of that blessing.  He worshiped at Abraham’s altars and shared in the material prosperity that Jehovah had showered on His covenant friend.  But those riches led to trouble, as riches so often do, and Abraham’s and Lot’s herdsman quarreled (Gen. 13).  Abraham graciously gave Lot first dibs on pasture lands.  Lot chose the fertile plain of the Jordan River and pitched his tent toward Sodom, an exceedingly wicked city.  So they parted.

It’s not long and Lot is living in Sodom.  Soon he and his family are captured along with the rest of its citizens, and Abraham is compelled to come to his rescue.  This should’ve served as a warning to Lot, but it doesn’t.  He remains in Sodom, even sitting in the gate with the rulers of the city, in spite of his troubled conscience.  “For that righteous man dwelling among them, in seeing and hearing, vexed his righteous soul from day to day with their unlawful deeds” 2 Pet. 2:8.

Proverbs 4:18 teaches that “the path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day.”  Lot was an exception to that rule.  His light is all but extinguished in that desolate cave, where two sons are conceived.  From those two boys came the nations of Moab and Ammon, some of the bitterest, vilest enemies of God’s Old Testament people.  God had a specific command regarding the Moabites and Ammonites: to the tenth generation they were forbidden to enter his temple (Deut. 23:3-6).  Lot paid a high price to enjoy the pleasures of sin for a season.  He forfeited the souls of his wife, children, and countless grandchildren in his generations. 

            Does Lot’s sad end cause you to shake your head?  Jesus warns, “Remember Lot’s wife” (Luke 17:32), and, “let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall” (1 Cor. 10:12).  Our problem is not that we dwell in the world.  Our problem is that we too often allow worldliness to dwell within us.  God declared this about Abraham: “For I know him, that he will command his children and his household after him, and they shall keep the way of the Lord, to do justice and judgment” (Gen. 18:19).  Can he say the same about you?
             In the gracious, marvelous providence of God, Lot’s story doesn’t end on a dark night in that lonely cave.  Nor does it end in the orgies or child sacrifices that marked the worship of Baalpeor or Molech, the idols of Moab and Ammon.  It commences on another dark night in another lonely cave, with the miraculous birth of the Seed promised to Abraham, the long-awaited Child who was also a descendant of Lot through Ruth.  And it will end when Lot’s Savior – and yours and mine – returns to fully and finally deliver us and commence a new story, a story of perfection and joy that will last forever. 

Why did God save Lot?  Why did he give him the privilege of being a father of our Lord?  In order that he might clearly demonstrate that salvation “is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy” (Rom. 9:16).  That was true of Lot’s salvation.  That’s true of your salvation and mine, too.  May those good tidings bring you great joy.    

James Elliot ~ 6 months

Can it be?!

We first held this precious Jem half a year ago yesterday.

As a man feels...

There were four in the tent...

In God's providence, my days are full of caring for little children, who are learning their first words, and older children, whom I regularly have to caution to watch their words.  That doesn't prevent me from studying the words I use myself, however, and lately I discovered something that troubles me: I use the word "feel" far too frequently and, far too often, incorrectly. 

As soon as I became aware of this tendency in myself, I started paying more attention to the way others are speaking, and I've noticed that many of them are "feelers," too.  A friend described her decision to purchase one item and not another because she "felt" that it was of superior quality.  In Bible study a sister explained what she "feels" a certain passage says.  An acquaintance commented on which of the two major presidential candidates she “feels” is the better one.

When I consider my own speech, I’ve noticed that when I use the word “feel,” I typically mean “know” or “think,” as in, “I’ve thought about this, and after careful consideration, this is the conclusion I’ve reached.”  But “feel” and “think” are not synonyms – far from it!  And since so many in our society base everything from their vote to their “gender identity” based on how they feel, I think it’s important that you and I say “think” when we mean “think.”  The Christian faith is a logical, rational faith.  It requires “a certain knowledge;” repudiates willing ignorance; engages the renewed mind.

In short, the people of God do not, must not allow their feelings to rule the way they live.  No, as I’m presently trying to teach my four-year-old, we’re called to take every emotion (as well as every thought) and make them captive to Christ.

And I don't just feel that’s the way it should be: I know it to be true.  

Quotable: People do not drift toward holiness.

People do not drift toward holiness.

Apart from grace-driven effort, people do not gravitate toward godliness, prayer, obedience to Scripture, faith, and delight in the Lord.

We drift toward compromise and call it tolerance; we drift toward disobedience and call it freedom; we drift toward superstition and call it faith. We cherish the indiscipline of lost self-control and call it relaxation; we slouch toward prayerlessness and delude ourselves into thinking we have escaped legalism; we slide toward godlessness and convince ourselves we have been liberated.

~ Don Carson

The Annual Photo Shoot

Here is what all Christians need to ask: “Do we agree with the Bible and face children with arms open in gratitude for the blessing of God, or do we turn our face away from children and count as a curse what God calls a blessing?” There is the reality that “a child may be an inconvenient blessing. A child will usually be an expensive blessing. A child may and often will be a blessing that takes us well outside our comfort zones and into the arms of grace. A child is usually a blessing that will be accompanied by sleepless nights and many tears. But he or she is a blessing, and we must not forget this. Parents struggling with a demanding or wayward child need to remember to thank God for that son or daughter, even as they pray urgently for grace to care for them faithfully.”

But why? Why are children such a blessing? One unique blessing is that, “they force us to welcome into our circle strangers we have not chosen. Husband and wife have chosen one another. But, however much they may have wanted a baby, they did not choose this baby with these particular characteristics! This baby comes into the family circle as a stranger, to be welcomed whatever his or her character and future. And therefore in parenting we learn to welcome the stranger, the one chosen by God for us to love. And we learn to love these children out of love for the God who has entrusted them to us.” While we may choose to have a child, ultimately conception, birth, and the unique characteristics of a particular child are exclusively in the hands of God. As parents, we have the challenge and the honor of loving the little stranger God has given us, of extending godly hospitality to him or her. “Someone has commented that the only home it is safe to be born into is a hospitable home that welcomes outsiders into its circle. Children challenge our self-centeredness and do us good.”  ~ www.challies.com.  Quotes are excerpts from Married for God by Christopher Ash.