Giving thanks for the Not-So-Amazing Events

After all, it is Thanksgiving Season here in the United States.  Many people take this time to declare gratitude for the goodness in their own lives.

Wealth. Comfort. Health. Family. Friends. Freedom.

As one who is rarely content to follow the crowd, I haven’t been posting daily gratitude posts on social media.  Not everyone is given the blessing of wealth, or comfort, or health, or family, or friends.

And yet, I do enjoy reflecting and digging deeper.

Hmmm… there are so many amazing events in my life for which to be thankful, how could I possibly name just one?

As a momma of six ever-so-amazing children through the blessing of foster care and adoption, this is probably what most of my friends might expect me to choose as my answer. Truly each adoption was (and is) an incredible special event.

Or even better, as a follower of Jesus, some might expect me to select as a special event the day on which I “came to Christ” – using a common phrase in evangelical circles. But there isn’t one specific date for me to cite as I reflect on the journey that ultimately brought me to surrender all. Was it when I was 6 or 7 or 8 or 13 (or every other day in between when I dutifully prayed the prayer from fear)? Was it when I was 21 and felt a surge of regret and shame?  Was it when, bit-by-bit, I realized my depravity and my separation from God?  Yep, that’s probably it, but I don’t have a date on the calendar circled.

And then just like that, I realized that The Most Special Event of my life was preceded by a series of special events more commonly regarded as Not-So-Amazing Events that spared me from Horrible Events!

Today, it is for the Not-So-Amazing Events that I give thanks. 

I’m thankful for the reputation-destroying and near-death experiences when I was hanging out with a risky crowd of people because now I am able to more compassionately come alongside of others making similar choices and because I actually survived (!!!) and lived to love on 25 babies and adopted 6 precious and ever-so-amazing children.

I’m thankful for the fear-filled naysayers who attempted to negatively influence my decision to foster, adopt, and homeschool my children as a single momma. Painful as it was to endure their criticisms, the grains of truth were (and still are) that I am weak, it is a hard road, and I’m not able to do it all. BUT when God calls us to follow Him, He equips us to do it. (Romans 8:30) So, in my weakness and inability to do any of it alone, God’s grace and mercy are put on display every day as I and my ever-changing family enjoy every step of the journey… even the hard times are sweeter when we face them together.

I’m thankful that my youthful, ignorant attraction for bad boys did not result in a marriage that would certainly have been doomed; and that, in my still-singleness, my children and I daily experience the loving care of our Great God who promises He will never leave us or forsake us and demonstrates over and over that He really is a Father to the fatherless. (Psalm 68:5)

(See more of my thoughts on being thankful for being still single in one of my earlier blog posts at: https://peapodfam.wordpress.com/2010/11/20/an-uncommon-reason-to-be-thankful/)

I’m thankful for the seemingly good guys I dated who hurt my heart by leading me on and then rejecting me for my past.  Yes, in my eagerness (read: desperation) to be married, I put much stock in their opinions of me and drew my significance from them instead of drawing from the wellspring of God’s grace.  Yet, through those pain-filled experiences God has formed within me a strength of character seasoned with His wisdom and has been used to hone His gift of discernment that is useful in guarding my family, as well as in the way He uses me to minister to others.

I’m thankful for a broken leg when I was tobogganing at 17 years old that yielded an eventual escape from a traumatic path.  The life-long limp I have is a constant reminder that God rescued me from the hands of an abuser.

Although there is nothing wrong with being thankful for wealth, comfort, health, family, and friends, the truth is that not everyone has all, or even one, of those blessings right now. 

Many during this season are filled with despair as they compare their own lives with those proclaiming their blessings.  So today, I am proclaiming my gratitude for the Not-So-Amazing Events that spared me from Horrible Events. 

It is my prayer that those who are feeling desperate right now will remember that even the most desperate times, in the hands of our Loving Savior, are ultimately transformed into Amazing Events… God is able to bring beauty from ashes. (Isaiah 61:3)

And so most of all, I am thankful that while I was still an enemy of God (living through some awful stuff), He chose me, called me, brought me to repentance, and paid for my sins with the sacrificial blood of His only Son, Jesus, and is keeping His promises to transform me (sanctify me) day by day.

Seeds of Faith
“For while we were still helpless, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly. For one will hardly die for a righteous man; though perhaps for the good man someone would dare even to die. But God demonstrates His own love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us. Much more then, having now been justified by His blood, we shall be saved from the wrath of God through Him.” Romans 5:6-9

“A father of the fatherless and a judge for the widows, Is God in His holy habitation.” Psalm 68:5

“To grant those who mourn in Zion, Giving them a garland instead of ashes, The oil of gladness instead of mourning, The mantle of praise instead of a spirit of fainting. So they will be called oaks of righteousness, The planting of the LORD, that He may be glorified.” Isaiah 61:3

“And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose. For those whom He foreknew, He also predestined to become conformed to the image of His Son, so that He would be the firstborn among many brethren; and these whom He predestined, He also called; and these whom He called, He also justified; and these whom He justified, He also glorified. What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who is against us?” Romans 8:29-31

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress

Bad is bad, except for when it is good.

Good is good.

Bad is bad.

Right?

When life is good and goes as I hope, dream, or plan, I deeply breathe in the goodness and I smile. I effortlessly see the beauty of God’s divine sovereignty.

When life is bad and I struggle, when I face trials that seem to drag on longer than they should (Whoever said trials have a prescribed duration anyway?), when I am mocked for my beliefs, when I’m rejected or ignored, or when life goes continuously contrary to the way I hope, dream, or plan… then what is my response?

I don’t know about you, but my first response to continuous calamity and rejection isn’t peaceful surrender and endurance. My first response is always to build a wall of defense, perhaps to even go on the offense.

Who hasn’t heard of the old adage, “the best defense is a good offense?”

Something else I do to respond to hardship: I quickly begin to seek the purpose so I can alter what is uncomfortable and transform it into comfortable.

My loving and faithful friends, because of their devotion to me and my children, join me in seeking the purpose. They want to see the struggle end, too. We collectively shake our heads ponder why the simple has morphed into the difficult, why the predictable has become unpredictable, or why the comfortable is peeled away to unveil the uncomfortable.

Often, the comfort in the struggle is that there are loving people surrounding us and cheering us on. But the longer the struggle endures, many cheerleaders get distracted. They are cheering for the struggle to end, but when circumstances go from bad to worse and even comical, if not for it being so uncomfortable, their own sense of timing has them refiguring their answers to “Why?”

Things should be turning around about now, right?

As the trial endures, some cheerleaders even fade away.

Recently, the good-is-good life has morphed into the bad-is-bad life and it has endured long past when I thought it would end.

When my current landlord said he wanted to sell the house we are living in and graciously gave me 60 days to find a new home (instead of the customary 30-day notice), my knees did not buckle.

True, this move meant I would be searching for a new home, packing, and resettling as a single momma with six (6!) children, but I wasn’t worried. After all, I had been hoping for and praying about a move for over a year. I just hadn’t been actively looking. I’d been waiting on God and living life in the present while dreaming of the future.

This notice to move was the nudge I needed to find a new home for us… a home that was more fitting for my Big Dream of working the Land of Potential with my children, having chickens and eventually some goats, and inviting other single foster and adoptive mommies to spend weekend retreats with us while their fatherless children learned skills not easily learned in the suburbs.

There was no doubt in my mind that this was God’s time for the dream to become a reality.

By faith, I purchased seven laying hens and their coop from a friend whose life no longer accommodated keeping them. I just knew God would open the door to a piece of land (a.k.a ‘horse property’) where our newly acquired hens, as well as my children and I, would call home.

I figured that we would move into our new home and onto this Land of Potential somewhere around Week 6 of the 8 weeks given to me to move, leaving 2 weeks to clean the newly vacated house and turn it over to my former landlord.

Then, my children and I would direct our focus into settling into our new home and… yah, live happily ever after. (I never even watched Disney movies when I was a kid, but that phrase is pretty hard to ignore in our society.)

Cue mounting praise music of exultation!

homesteads by LostCreekAcres from pinterest

I liked the plan. My faithful friends liked the plan. The plan was conceived with pure motives. (Read: not selfish gain.) Surely God was already on board with the timing of this Big Dream becoming a reality. It was obvious to me that HE had planted the dream because, um, I’m not a chicken person OR goat person; at least I wasn’t until this Big Dream descended upon me.

Maybe because my sons are football fans and it’s football season right, now… I viewed myself as something of a quarterback and this move would be a well-executed play for the SCORE! Read: Move onto some acreage, raise farm animals, plant gardens, fill those gardens with children working together and whistling while they work.

Cue confetti! (Hmm, football analogies and Disney-isms in one paragraph, somebody throw a penalty flag, please!)

After much searching online, fielding listings from three realtors, viewing many (MANY!) vacant and not-so-vacant rentals, and driving through potential neighborhoods looking for the ever-elusive “for rent by owner” signs with ALL seven us in the van (I homeschool so we always travel en mass), and sipping on Sonic’s Happy Hour Slurpees, I wasn’t discouraged in the least. We were actually having fun and the anticipation of what big thing God was going to do was the carrot I needed to keep me energized.

Like clockwork, Week 6 yielded a listing for a house on an acre lot. INSTANTLY I knew it was to be ours. Excitedly, we toured the house and property. Easily I pictured us living life there and having friends join us in the journey. For a few days, I breathed in the anticipation and said a happy farewell to online rental property searches.

Ellington Farm’s Pea Garden, photo by Josiah Rice.

Then, the call came that the homeowner rejected us in favor of a smaller family. The celebration balloon burst.

With more tears than I expected to shed, I turned my attention back to the search, but this time, my heart lacked excitement. The sorrow I felt was deep and my weary mind needed a break. My cheerleaders encouraged me that whatever God had would surely be more amazing and more perfect than we could even imagine and that the perfect home was just around the corner waiting for us. But…

Somebody throw a penalty flag, PLEEZE!

We are in Week 9 (N-I-N-E!!) and according to my plan of implementing God’s plan, we should be well on our way to settling into our amazing new home, gazing out the kitchen windows out at the pastoral Land of Potential just in time to invite several single foster mommas and their children to our home for Thanksgiving.

But we’re not. Another Penalty Flag flies to the field!

Instead, we are still in our soon-to-be (or not-soon-to-be) former rental. We are surrounded by packed boxes, navigating around mounds of packing material waiting for last-minute packing, consuming high-sodium, high-fat, fast food and pre-cooked food from Costco, receiving generous meal offerings from friends, eating off paper plates, and wondering if that box over there should be unpacked so we can make use of what’s inside.

Somewhere along the line, the cheers have grown quieter for this momma quarterback to SCORE.

The struggle is longer than any of us expected. I am forced to sell my already beloved chickens because it is obvious that this is not God’s time. Every time a homeowner of a possible rental agrees that the chickens can come with us, the deal falls apart for reasons that boggle my mind every time. How can it be that I cannot find just the right place for me, six children, and seven chickens. Is that such a tall order? (Apparently.)

So, as the cheers quiet and I turn inward and as all hope for the Big Dream to come to fruition any time soon is gone, I can hear Jesus nudging me to respond according to His instruction . . .

“Therefore, having been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom also we have obtained our introduction by faith into this grace in which we stand; and we exult in hope of the glory of God. And not only this, but we also exult in our tribulations, knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.” (Romans 5: 1-5, emphasis mine.)

Exult: take delight in, joyful, triumphant.

Tribulation: hardship, great difficulty, affliction, or distress.

Perseverance: determined continuation with something: steady and continued action or belief, usually over a long period and especially despite difficulties or setbacks.

If you have time, re-read the above passage and replace the words in bold with their accompanying definitions. I did it and the truth packed into those five verses finally hit home for me.

Here’s a paraphrase for those of you still hanging in there with me.

“…Take triumphant joy in distress knowing this hardship will bring about determined continuation yielding a proven character that will not disappoint….”

For all my friends cheering me on that something amazing is just around the corner, you were right! Not in the form of an amazing home situated on the Land of Potential, but a far greater gift from God: the hardship in this season will yield a proven character that will not disappoint.

Look around. Read the news. Listen to the drums beating. Our society is morphing into something most of us won’t like. It will buckle our knees. I know I don’t like it. And yet, I have been created by God for “such a time as this.” (Esther 4:14)

I want to be boldly ready with enduring perseverance. I want my kids to be ready if they find themselves apart from me through no choice of my own.

So today, I see that bad is bad, except for when it is good. Although I still don’t know where we are going to live or when we will actually move, although my knee is still swollen from taking a terrible fall last week and both of the twins are sick and running a fever, although I have no energy left to go look for a home and I want to run away, I stand firm knowing God is with me.

I choose today to take triumphant joy in this distress as I press forward in determined continuation for the fruit of proven character that God has promised to me through peace with Him through Jesus Christ. I know, it’s a mouth full, but it’s truth!

Seeds of Faith

After you have suffered for a little while, the God of all grace, who called you to His eternal glory in Christ, will Himself perfect, confirm, strengthen and establish you.” 1 Peter 5:10

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress

God NEVER ‘shows up’ . . .

Growing up, I had five strong desires: to be a wife and a mom, to have twins (after all, they run in my family), to homeschool my children, and to have an orphanage.

My plan:  College. Married by age 27. Babies shortly thereafter (total of 12 children, including twins). Homeschooling. Orphanage.

Back in the 1960s, young girls’ aspirations to be a wife and mom were common.  Unfortunately for my generation, it was a decade when our society started to contend with an emerging movement that sought to stamp out traditional girlhood plans.

My dream to have an orphanage was planted within me in that same decade at the age of 7. I awoke from a Sunday-afternoon nap remembering a literal dream so vivid and detailed that it is forever etched in my memory.  There was a forest clearing with multiple teepees scattered about and children of various colors running around playing hide-and-seek among the teepees.  From that day forward, it was settled in my mind. I shared the dream with my mom.  I had no idea the significance of each detail.

One day, as a pre-teen girl, I told my big sister (older by 8 years) that I wanted to be a wife and a mom and have supper on the table when my husband came home.  We were standing in the hallway of our home and she shook me by the shoulders as she declared, “You don’t have to be a wife and mom. You can be more than that.” Shortly thereafter, she moved out to follow her own long-held dream to become a nurse.

Bam. The first seeds of doubt were sown.

In my early teen years, I  bought a record entitled I Am Woman by Helen Reddy and played that dumb thing over and over. My dreams took more hits.

In my late teens, I spent 4 months in Costa Rica on a study-service trimester through my college.  I secured a volunteer role at an orphanage and the dream of caring for the orphan was revived, in spite of all the doubts that assailed it.

Just before leaving Costa Rica, I wrote in my journal, “I now know what God wants me to do with the rest of my life.” I closed the book, packed it in my suitcase, and headed back to the States.

More time passed. I doubted who I was, what I wanted, and my value to anyone. I allowed myself to walk further away from God, my faith, my family, and my dreams.

The decade of my 20s is a blur of rebellion against God and His plan of salvation through Jesus’ sinless life, death, and resurrection. I doubted His sovereignty and rejected any choice that resembled stability and a good-girl image. I was on a detailed mission to torpedo my life and to prove to God that I knew I was destined for hell.

By the grace and mercy of the same God at whom I’d shaken my fist repeatedly for 10 years, I lived through my 20s. Even so, surviving came with a high price… leaving significant emotional scars and well-guarded secrets.

During the decade of my 30s, I completed my undergraduate and graduate degrees and constructed a professional career that yielded a lucrative, corporate fast-track lifestyle that was 100% dissatisfying.

I timidly entered a time of soul searching. I reached out to the God of my youth. In some ways, this decade was filled with a new kind of fast-track masquerading as a slow boat to China. Fast because I felt as if I could barely keep up with God as He led me down paths of confession, repentance, and surrender, and slow because I didn’t know where we were going!

While packing for a move from one part of the state to another, I discovered the box containing my Costa Rica journal. Thumbing through it brought a wave of fond memories, but I was unprepared to read my closing remark about my time volunteering at the orphanage.

Really?  “I now know what God wants me to do with the rest of my life.”

My feelings were a jumble of contradictions. I couldn’t believe I had written those words and I couldn’t believe I’d forgotten them.

I sat on the garage floor and cried as I reflected on how far I’d run away from that dream and away from the One who had sown it within me.

Whether or not the decade was a fast track or a slow boat, I am certain God was ushering me on a path designed for purposes that seemed to be a mixed bag of clarity for me.

I grew steadily in confidence that my Almighty God and Savior Jesus was and is my Shelter and Strength from before the day I was born.

One afternoon while in my early 30s, I purchased a greeting card that read, “On the day you were adopted, all the stars of the universe danced.”  I knew one day I would adopt. Purchasing the card and writing the date on the back of the card would be proof to my future children that adoption was always Plan A rather than a fall-back plan for any other reason. (Almost 10 years later to the month, I adopted my first son!)

As my 30s drew to a close, I finished up my MBA and was in training to become a foster parent.  This decision seemed to be a natural progression toward my long-held dream to have an orphanage.

When I told my mom about my plan to become a foster parent, she easily recalled the dream that I’d shared with her many years ago.  Mom was always concerned for my well being, so knowing this was a long-held dream and not just a passing fancy comforted her.  What an amazing thought that not only was my dream a gift from God to me, but also to my mom.

During my foster parent journey, I fostered 25 babies and toddlers. 

Some wee ones came and left.

Some came, left, came back, and left again.

Some babies came and stayed as God began to assemble my family.

The life of a foster parent is a treacherously amazing journey.  Doing so as a single woman means unique struggles that I mercifully couldn’t have imagined when I began the journey.  Doing so without family nearby to offer emotional and physical support means having to ask and receive help and frequently meant being turned away upon asking.  (Who knew that being a single foster parent was often akin to being a leper?)

In my 40s, I adopted two babies.  I loved being their mom and hated dropping them off at daycare.  I loved nurturing them and hated being torn between a career and the children of my heart.  I agonized over the juxtaposed roles. Year after year, I begged God to allow me to be home with my children.

Miraculously, by the time my oldest son was ready for kindergarten, I saw God open wide the door for me – a single momma – to be a stay-at-home, homeschooling momma.

God leads. I follow. Simple. –ish.

In my 50s, I adopted four more babies.  If you do the math, that means 6  babies stayed and 19 came and left. I was stunned, amazed, and filled with joy that God would grant to me one child, let alone six children!

Life as a single momma keeps teaching me that God has a plan. People often say to me that I chose to be a single mom.  Hmm… insofar as I choose to follow wherever God leads, I suppose so, but not because I choose to be single.  There’s a difference.

My last two foster placements came to us on Christmas night of 2012.  They were teeny, tiny 2 day-olds with thick black hair.

Christmas!!  What an amazing day on which to receive newborns!  The calm that descended upon our home that evening and into the coming months was nothing short of God’s divine grace being poured out over our home.  We enjoyed those sweeties with every fiber of our family, but we also held them loosely, knowing that the case plan was reunification and they would leave us someday soon.

When people asked whether I would adopt them if given the opportunity, I quickly answered with a firm ‘no’ because… well… I am single and I have adopted four children already.

As time when by and the babies’ case plan was still family reunification, the Lord reminded me that He is more than capable of saying ‘no’ – after all, He had already said ‘no’ to 19 other babies and toddlers placed with me.  What He required of me was to walk with Him step-by-step without knowing, or trying to control, the future and certainly I must stop answering people with the answer I thought they expected of me.

Heeding this correction from the Lord, whenever asked if I hoped to adopt these new babies, I answered, “We love them and I want what God wants. If He opens the door to adopt them, I will walk through that door.”  Shortly thereafter, the babies’ case plan began to unravel and it was clear that reunification with either biological parent was impossible.

Bit-by-bit, some very difficult doors opened easily and miraculously for me to adopt the babies.  I never doubted God’s ability to sustain me even though many around me audibly expressed their own doubts.

Adoption finalization
June, 2014

The babies’ adoption finalization hearing was held just before they turned 18 months old.  Over 65 friends crowded into the courtroom that day, followed by a blow-out party to celebrate what God had done.

Adoption Finalization
June, 2104

After the adoption one evening, when all my precious children were in bed and I had time to prop up my feet and reflect on the past 18 months, I was caught off guard by a flash of memory.

How could it be that in the past 18 months, I never once thought about a very specific prayer request from my youth?

That long-ago plea of my heart never entered my mind – not even once.  But on this quiet night, with my home and heart full, the Lord reminded me of a request that I had stopped praying for following my hysterectomy at 40 years old.

What?!  What had He done here?? How had I missed it until that moment?  From as far back as I could remember until my hysterectomy, I had asked God for twins – after all, they run in my family, remember?  The thing is, following my hysterectomy it was painfully obvious to me that this long-held dream would not come to pass.

(Are you laughing yet?  Maybe crying?  I know I did both that night.)

God had a plan.  A plan different than mine.  A plan better than mine. A plan to demonstrate that He is able to do more than we can ask or imagine. 

God granted to me my life-long request exactly 15 years after I stopped asking.

The babies I adopted in June, 2014 are twin girls who began their life with us when they were 2 days old on a quiet Christmas night.

God said yes to my childhood plea for twins!

Amazing story, right?  Well, all of my children’s stories and the specific way in which God affirmed each adoption, are amazingly miraculous.

Indeed, over the decades of my life, God has graciously demonstrated that His plan was always to forgive and redeem my sin and lead me on an amazing, treacherous, joy-filled, purposeful,  miraculous journey.

And on this journey, I’ve learned that it is impossible to live a dull, uneventful life if one walks by faith in Jesus. 

I have also learned that God never (EVER) needs a Plan B.

What others might see as impossible, God declares possible. This is one of the many ways that His majesty is put on display and amazingly it is for our ultimate good.

God’s Plan A for my life carries the mark of His grace, mercy, and sovereignty over all things.

By God’s grace, mercy, sovereign rule, and loving hand the ethnic heritages represented in my family include Irish, Latino, African, and three different Native American tribes.  My colorful family is one more piece of evidence that the dream I had when I was 7 years old was a gift from God.

I often hear people say, “God showed up.”  I shake my head in disagreement.

God never shows up. He is always here. Omnipresent. Always.

Every detail is in His hands and there is no place safer or sweeter for me and my children to be.

Seeds of Faith

“…for truly I say to you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you.”  Matthew 17:20

“Be strong and courageous, do not be afraid or tremble at them, for the LORD your God is the one who goes with you. He will not fail you or forsake you.” Deuteronomy 31:6

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress

Chores and Keeping the Main Thing the main thing

Confession:  I am a recovering Perfectionist Mommy.  I started out as just a plain ol’ Perfectionist.  Then, God blessed me with children.

Being a Perfectionist Mommy meant that when my first son was a baby, then a toddler, then a preschooler, and then a kindergartener with a 2-year-old brother, I did all (A-L-L) the household work while they slept.  I cleaned up the playroom, did the dishes, folded the laundry and put it away, mopped the floors, and… oh yes, since I’m single, I also earned the family income ALL while the wee little darlings slept (and occasionally while they watched cartoons).

Why?  Because, I told myself, I’m a loving mom.  I want a neat and orderly home for my children.  Yah, right: “For my children.”  **cough, cough**

In reality, I did all this (and more) because I knew I could power through the work and have it all done properly while the little angels weren’t underfoot. (This is a classic control freak move by this Perfectionist Mommy.)

Aside from the fact that I was in complete denial that I was a Perfectionist Mommy, I was also… (wait for it)… EXHAUSTINGLY WRONG.

In due time, I came to realize an even more exhausting truth: if I do all the chores while my kids are sleeping (or doing school work or playing with friends), the message I am reinforcing in my own mind and the message I am sending to my children is that no one else can do the job. This kept me from delegating duties and ensured that I was overworked and underappreciated.

The sad, unspoken truth is more important – no one else will ever do as good of a job, or better, as I can do unless I train them.

That truth led me to commence shedding the perfectionist persona in favor of training my children. Training is a deliberate act to ensure ultimate proficiency in a particular skill.  In our home, training includes four phases: tutor, test, tweak, and transfer.

CONSIDER THE NOW I KNOW MY ABCs SONG

The Lord used a simple toddler tune as I was singing with my toddler one day to prompt me to start training my children young. After all, we sing this song to and with our children long before they know the meaning of the song. (TUTOR) Then we listen to them sing the song by themselves. (TEST) Periodically, we sing with them again as they stumble over certain segments. (TWEAK) Ultimately, the child sings the song from beginning to end successfully and we feel good, moving on to other songs and other areas of early education.  (TRANSFER)

Why do we teach our little ones this song before they can read and write? Because we know it lays a foundation on which to build when they are cognitively ready for higher levels of learning.

This example displays beautifully the pattern of Tutor, Test, Tweak, and Train.

FREQUENT MISTAKES

Over time, I came to realize that delegating selected chores should begin as soon as my child is able to walk. As he acquires new abilities such as following multi-step instructions, chore assignments can be increased to reflect his growing abilities.

One common mistake I, as a recovering Perfectionist Momma, made early on is that I expected to train my child once (maybe twice) and that he would do it exactly as trained.  (Shaking my head at myself as I type this.) Unfortunately, I was passing on to my son the perfectionist tendencies and expectations.

Girls helping with the yard work.

Boys dethatching the back yard.

I learned that perfection during the training phase is NOT the goal.

(I think I just heard some of you gasp!  That’s right, fellow perfectionist friends — perfection is NOT the goal!)

You see, I learned that the true goal when our children are young is to instill in them an appreciation for being needed and useful in the family, as well as to help them develop an appetite for a job well done, as they work diligently to serve their family and to serve others as unto the Lord.

Distributing treats at a local nursing home.

Setting these foundational goals is best accomplished by keeping the Main Thing of Training the main thing, which is grace and love, not perfection.

Another mistake I made was to skip the testing and tweaking phases. Skipping these two phases is a set-up for failure and discouragement.

Peter taking care of the chickens for our friends.

JT and babies (3 months old)

LET THE TRAINING BEGIN!

Let’s look at just one chore out of many** that includes all four phases of training.

A baby takes his first step. Oh what joy!  We applaud his accomplishment and take pictures of his newly emerging ability.  Once the excitement has settled down and the new toddler is capable of walking unassisted, let the training begin!

As soon as my baby becomes a toddler, I have her carry her own soiled diaper to the garbage.  At this stage, I am laying the foundation that her help is needed in our family and she has a job to do.

I give her the wrapped-up diaper and hold her hand as we walk together to the garbage.  I open the garbage and tell her to throw away the diaper. (TUTOR) After several occasions of this routine, I walk behind her to see if she knows where to go.  Then, after I’m sure she knows what to do with it, I stop opening the garbage and let her do that part herself.  There comes a time to further test her by giving her the diaper in her room and watching to see if she will execute the whole chore without my help. (TEST)

REFUSING TO WORK

Recently, one of my toddlers refused to carry her diaper to the garbage. (Yes, at 1 year old, this can appear cute, but we all know it won’t be cute at 7 years old if that attitude is allowed to flourish.)

Addressing a refusal to work is much easier now than when the child is older.  Upon refusal, the Training Truck has to be backed-up a bit in order to reinforce the entire process.  When my toddler refuses, I put the diaper between her hands and gently hold her hands in place. I affirm the process verbally (“Good job! We are going to throw the diaper away!”) and then walk with her, still holding her hands in place if I sense she wants to drop it.  I open the garbage and help her throw it away.  I verbally affirm her actions and give her a hug. (TWEAK)

Once she is doing this consistently and effectively with every diaper change, she becomes proficient at her chore and the duty is fully hers. (TRANSFER)

I still check up on my child’s proficiency to ensure there is follow-through from time to time, but the more this happens at early ages and stages, a sound foundation is being laid for each child’s role in the family.

I regret that, as a new mommy with firmly planted perfectionist tendencies, I bought into the notion that my young children couldn’t do the work “as good as I can” at such young ages.

When I finally did begin to require work from them it was a difficult hurdle because they weren’t proficient (obviously) and they felt defeated by their inaccuracy… so did I.  Not only that, but the learning curve was much longer due to their discouragement which resulted in more frustration for all of us. I had to back up the Training Truck on myself and learn to give them room for approximations of accuracy during the tutor, test, and tweak stages.

The good news is that I have since learned from my mistakes. My older children are gaining new skills with greater ease these days.  It is beautiful to see their proficiencies grow!

ANOTHER HARD LESSON LEARNED

Once my oldest child was successfully trained, I transferred that jurisdiction to him. (A thankful nod to the Duggars of 19 and Counting for this useful term.)

What a blessing when the cleanliness of my kitchen was fully transferred to my oldest child.  Whenever we host a dinner for friends, I can count on him to get the kitchen prepped for our guests.  I don’t even have to be involved.  Truth be told, he really does it better than I do it! With 5 younger children to focus on, this is a great blessing!

Of course, after all that work to train my oldest child, I found myself lapsing into complacency. I relied heavily on my oldest for doing what he does so well and forgot that I had to get busy training the next-oldest child in that same jurisdiction.

TRAIN THE YOUNGEST-CAPABLE CHILD

In the wake of glorious success, I had forgotten that the younger I start my children with chores, the shorter the training period.  That’s when I realized that I wasn’t going to be able to enjoy a beautiful kitchen for much longer if I wanted to be sure that each of my children gained the same skills.

I realized that I had to begin the process of training my next youngest-capable child, as well as transition my oldest-capable child to other, more complicated tasks.  This would prevent me from  simply piling every new duty upon my oldest.

Today, as soon as the younger ones are capable, the older ones move up to more complex duties and the younger children take over where they are able.  Since working out the kinks in our routines, I find this to be a great system!

ROTATE and CELEBRATE!

It works best for my family to assign jurisdictions for a year at a time. This gives not only my children the time to be fully trained, it also allows them to appreciate their autonomy in this area. This also gives me time to tutor, test, and tweak the training of my little ones.

When the year is complete (assuming proficiency has been achieved and the duty successfully transferred), it is time to rotate that jurisdiction to the youngest-capable child.

In our family, we make a celebration of changing jurisdictions and mark the occasion by having a special Jurisdiction Rotation Breakfast! We make a holiday-quality breakfast, use special dishes, and drink sparkling cider from special glasses.

Special Jurisdiction Rotation Breakfast

Eggs, Pancakes, and Sausage face — designed by my creative son

We have experienced many benefits by using this method.  One of the best blessings is that everyone in our family is more respectful of the demands of their former jurisdictions. Also, there tends to be more encouragement from older sibs for the younger ones who are starting out with a new duty.

GRACE AND LOVE

So if you ever come to my home and see something out of order, you can be sure that the youngest capable child is in training.  You can also be sure that this recovering Perfectionist Momma is practicing the fine of art of keeping the Main Thing the main thing… which is grace and love.

Seeds of Faith

” . . . rendering service with a good will as to the Lord and not to man, knowing that whatever good anyone does, this he will receive back from the Lord, whether he is a bondservant or is free . . .”
Ephesians 6:7-8

“Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.”
Colossians 3:23-24

** For more kids’ chores ideas, go to http://kidsactivitiesblog.com/46550/chores-for-kids.

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress

Twice-gifted boots and more to the story.

When God calls us to serve Him by serving others, we sometimes, erroneously, imagine a beautiful outcome of our sacrificial acts. Maybe we imagine these outcomes because we are too heavily influenced by Disney’s storybook endings or Marvel’s comic book heroism. Whatever the reason, by designing our own notion of what the outcome should be from our service we set ourselves up for disappointment and even disillusionment.

Let’s be clear, serving others doesn’t come with a neat-and-tidy storybook ending.

Serving others in need isn’t pretty or glamorous. Serving others can leave you scarred. (See what a friend wrote about this over at My Sister’s Jar.)

Answering God’s call to serve others can be downright dangerous and can send heart-wrenching ripple effects through an entire family or community. (Read Pastor Saeed’s letter to his daughter.)

Serving God by investing our time, energy, and money (which all belong to our God anyway) requires that we relinquish the right to know the rest of the story. This fact can be a good thing because even if we do know the outcome, we might not approve.

My post last week entitled Compassionate Wisdom: Training my children to serve others details the account of how my 14-year-old son served someone by giving away his socks and waterproof hiking boots right off his feet to a young, homeless man who was in dire need.

Ones just like these with the heel notch for better grip

My son listened to God’s call to serve another and responded promptly.

Later that same day, Josiah and I processed what God had done. I cautioned him against assuming his gift to this stranger would result in good as the world defines it. For example, I explained, it was entirely possible that this young man might sell the boots for cash to buy drugs. I wanted my son to grasp the truth that our role is to obey God’s call and relinquish any rights to the outcome of our service.

Ah, but sometimes… sometimes… we get to see a glimpse of the good that comes and how sweet it is.

God did something special this week and graciously allowed His servant Josiah to know what happened after he sacrificed his own socks and boots.

This week, as we made our way to care for our chickens, we stopped to deliver six homemade meals to the homeless we had gotten to know on our route. We found Hector and (providentially) 5 other homeless folks with him under a shade tree.

Josiah and I got out of the van to walk over to the group, but I could barely keep up with him. His strides were unusually bigger and I knew he was eager to see if Nicholas still had on the hiking boots that once were his.

When we arrived at the group, the look on Josiah’s face displayed disappointment. Nicholas was not one of the 6 homeless under that tree, but his disappointment didn’t last long.

Earl, one of the men who was present last week when Josiah gave away his socks and boots, enthusiastically greeted Josiah and told my son that Nicholas wasn’t with them because he got a job at the car wash. Earl shared that Nicholas commented that he knew it was because he had good, solid, waterproof boots!

Exhale joy!

On this particular day, by God’s providence, a young teen who is new in his journey of walking by faith not by sight, was granted a glimpse into the way God used his obedience. The twice-gifted boots have a new piece to their story and my precious first-born has a stone of remembrance as to God’s hand of grace and mercy toward him and toward those he is called to serve.

Yes, serving others can be messy, frightening, time consuming, and even scarring.

Thankfully, answering God’s call and sacrificially serving others can also be faith bolstering.

All good in the hands of our Sovereign God.

Seeds of Faith
“…for we walk by faith, not by sight.” 2 Corinthians 5:7

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress

Compassionate wisdom: Training my children to serve others

Note: The following post may evoke controversy, although that is not my intention. This is written to boast in the work of the Lord.

Recently we have added a long-distance trip to our weekly routine. I purchased some laying hens and until we move into our new home, their former owners have graciously allowed our newly adopted chickens to stay right where they are. We go once or twice a week to clean the coop and gather the eggs.

Because we’ve been doing this for a while now, we’ve become acquainted with several homeless people along the Chicken Day route. Our first encounter was with Hector, a wheelchair-bound man in his 40s.

Right away my kids expressed a serious interest in Hector’s welfare.

The contents of the first care package prepared by Peter: Stew in Styrofoam cups with a spoon taped to the foil, bananas, fruit snacks, cooks, fig bars, and turkey sandwiches

Peter’s heart was touched by Hector’s condition. One our 3rd or 4th trip, my typically self-centered son (age 11) asked if he could pack some food for Hector. This has now become his habit. He makes sure before we head out to care for the chickens that we have food for Hector and some extra for anyone else with him. Our bag of food gets larger and more varied each time we go. Sometimes Hector isn’t in his typical spot, but with a little bit of extra driving, we find him under a shade tree or in a nearby parking lot.

Hector usually has at least one friend with him who helps push his wheelchair. We’ve met Pete, Nicholas, and Earl, and about seven others whose names are less familiar to me.

Our routine on Chicken Day means that when we find Hector and his friends, I get out of the van along with one big brother. The other big brother stays in the van with the four little girls. We distribute the food bags and talk briefly with them. We also listen to their stories. Each one has freely admitted their battles with addictions and mental health issues.

Our Chicken Days have become some of my most cherished times with my children as I see the Lord shaping their hearts to minister to the poor and downcast.

This week, we found Hector, Nicholas, and Earl in an abandoned parking lot. We distributed the food and watched as Earl (age 54) opened Hector’s sandwich bag for him because his hands are so stiff he cannot grasp the edges of the ziplock bag. All three men dug into the shepherd’s pie that I made for them and we chatted.

With zero transition and sounding uncharacteristically bold, Josiah (age 14) blurted out a question to Nicholas (age 24) who looked to be in pain and admitted that he was suffering from a bout with meth the previous night.

“Hey Nicholas, what size shoes do you wear?”

That seemed random to me. But I looked down and saw what Josiah had already noticed: Nicholas’ shoes were so torn that his toes were sticking out and the laces could no longer be threaded due to the lack of material.
Providentially, Josiah and Nicholas are both size 12. Without asking my permission, he asked Nicholas if he would take his boots. Nicholas resisted at first, but Josiah was persuasive . . . (again!) uncharacteristically outgoing and persuasive!

Right then and there Josiah gave Nicholas his socks and waterproof hiking boots. I was in awe of what God was doing in and through my son in that holy moment. After putting on the boots, Nicholas stood up and shook our hands and asked if we could pray so I asked Nicholas if he would do the honors. There we stood in that abandoned parking lot – the three homeless men, my barefoot Josiah, and I – while the heart of a young man poured out before us in his gratitude to God.

I will never be able to fully capture that moment in words.

We said our good-byes and got back into the van. Hadassah and Bethany were worried about Josiah’s bare feet. They pointed out that he still had to care for the chickens and he had to do so without his boots! His little brother Peter came to the rescue and let him use his flip flops, and although they were too small for Josiah’s feet they did provide some protection from the chicken poo.

On the way home, Josiah (again!!) uncharacteristically shared his insights:

1. If he hadn’t had need of in-shoe braces, he would be in a size 11, but he needs a full size larger to accommodate those bulky braces. He saw this as a reason to be thankful for his disability since that was Nicholas’ exact size!

2. He said he was glad we haven’t found a new home yet. If we had, we wouldn’t have to travel down there to take care of our chickens and he wouldn’t have seen Nicholas’ need.

3. He noted that the boots have now been a gift twice. Those hiking boots were gifted to him by a friend from church and he has loved wearing them, but now he was able to gift them to Nicholas!

The next day, Josiah was struck with another observation.

My son noted that the day after gifting the boots to Nicholas it rained in Phoenix and it even turned a bit cool, especially at night. Josiah commented what great timing that Nicholas could have warm, waterproof boots on such a damp and rainy day.

Josiah and Peter might be awkward and uncomfortable in many situations, but I think God is doing something amazing in the hearts of my sons. I am so blown away by God’s grace and mercy toward me and my children and, through our hands, toward a small band of homeless men whom He loves just as much as He loves us.

On the drive home, we discussed what God allowed us to do and Josiah commented how comfortable he feels talking with the homeless. He said he finds the poor friendlier than the wealthy.

Make no mistake. On our own we are not especially bold or kind.

My kids and I are often quick to selfishly sin under less noble circumstances. But if I wait until I am perfect to be used by God, then I will have lived my whole life behind closed doors and we all will miss the joy of serving Him. Because of God’s forgiveness of our sins, because of His grace and mercy, we can see that it is God who works in and through us – using us as His vessels of love. Similarly, He uses others in our lives, too.

Ever since my sons were 2 and 5 years old, God has allowed us to help specific homeless people over extended periods of time. Those encounters begin and end unexpectedly and yet they leave lasting memories in all of our hearts. I’m so humbled to be the momma of my uniquely assembled family and thankful that our flexible homeschool days can include ministering to the poor with God’s love shining through my children.

Seeds of Faith
“For the poor will never cease to be in the land; therefore I command you, saying, ‘You shall freely open your hand to your brother, to your needy and poor in your land.’” Deuteronomy 15:11

“….but let him who boasts boast of this, that he understands and knows Me, that I am the LORD who exercises lovingkindness, justice and righteousness on earth; for I delight in these things,” declares the LORD.” Jeremiah 9:24

A final note for those who find helping the homeless controversial . . .

When I shared this with a friend, he accused me of being too naïve and even of collecting homeless people like pets. His reaction was not surprising to me. Nothing could be further from the truth.

The homeless are the poor whose lives occasionally intersect with ours. From our own abundance, we are able to give in the name of the Lord. I have no expectations as to the outcome of the generosity God allows us to share with them because, as with us and anyone else on earth, the outcome is in God’s hands.

I do not have authority over the homeless we serve and cannot dictate what decisions they make with what we share with them. Indeed, Nicholas might turn around and sell the boots my son gave to him and then use that money for more meth. Once my son gave Nicholas those boots, that young meth addict became accountable for the gift given to him.

On the other hand, God has granted me authority over my children. Through the circumstances allowed in our daily lives, I get the honor of:

• Shepherding them to let go of the Keeping-Up-With-The-Joneses Mentality (sorry to my friends with the last name of Jones)

• Training them to see their lives through the lens of God’s love flowing out from them to those whom He also loves

• Reminding them as each day unfolds that acts of kindness won’t buy them a place in heaven, but that faith without works is dead

• Encouraging them to look beyond their own limitations and to practice what God helps them to understand as compassionate wisdom.

I do not foster a notion that the homeless are our pets. Far from it. Praise God, His wisdom prevails in our lives.

Seeds of Faith
“What good is it, my brothers, if someone says he has faith but does not have works? Can that faith save him? If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking in daily food, and one of you says to them, “Go in peace, be warmed and filled,” without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that? So also faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” James 2:14-17

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress

Can a single-parent stay at home with the kids?

This summer during our state homeschool convention, I was honored to moderate a panel discussion on the topic of single-parent homeschoolers. The panel consisted of two moms who are still-single, one mom who is single by way of divorce, and one mom who is a widow.

Each of us found a variety of ways to support our families while remaining stay-at-home moms. The hard part for any single parent desiring to stay at home is our obvious concern for adequate income.

When I embarked on this single-mom, stay-at-home journey, I had two sons. I prayed and asked God for help. Then, I put the word out to all my friends that I was willing to do anything to earn an income as long as it was legal, moral, ethical, and allowed me to stay home with my children. I prayed often.

My income in the early years was pieced together through short-term jobs like delivering flowers on Mother’s Day (oh yes, the irony), stuffing convention folders for a marketing firm, counting words in essay papers as a qualifying filter for entries in an annual scholarship contest, in-home babysitting, freelance editing, and selling items online. My income was never consistent, but the odds-and-ends jobs provided me with what I needed with little time to spare.

This sort of income plan doesn’t inspire a feeling of stability and confidence, but that is exactly how I learned to lean on God for my every need.

He truly is a Father to the fatherless. (Psalm 68:5)

Eventually, the Lord allowed me to gain a more regular, at-home income by teaching online.

While we all come to the table of singleness in different ways and with different skill sets, we can all call upon the same God for His help.

I met a young, divorced mom many years ago. She told me that she felt called by God to homeschool and was grieved because in her mind this divorce meant she couldn’t be a stay-at-home mom. Her parents insisted that she wasn’t strong enough to stay home, homeschool, and earn a living. She admitted that she lacked the faith to step out and answer the homeschool call. I cannot determine if she lacked the faith or whether or not her desire to homeschool was born from God’s prompting, but I certainly was sad that her parents were so discouraging of her desire. She feared stepping out in faith and concluded that it was impossible for her.

God makes it clear to us that nothing is impossible with Him! (Luke 1:37)

The need to find a way to support our family can be viewed as a burden and we can stiffen our neck from bitterness that we have come to this point OR we can view the need as an opportunity to expand our homeschooling adventure by inviting our older children (and even the younger ones, depending on the job opportunity) to join us in earning an income to meet the family budget.

With that said, here is a short list of income ideas we discussed during the single-parent homeschooler workshop:

Online ventures – online teaching at the community college or university level, online ESL, writing, or math tutoring, e-zine creation and publishing, create and deliver homeschool enrichment courses such as music or art, or buy and sell via eBay.

At-home business ventures – pet sitting, daycare, overnight child care for 3rd shift parents, 4-H animal boarding (depending on your acreage), personal assistant, editing, writing, housecleaning, multi-level marketing sales, and lawn care.

I want to encourage every single parent (mom OR dad) to trust that if the Lord has called you to homeschool, then He will lead you. I have no idea HOW you will manage your income, but I am absolutely certain that if God is in, He will make a way where there seems to be no way.

He is your Provider and the Author and Perfecter of your faith. (Hebrews 12:1-3)

If putting your children in a public school needs to happen, remember that God is there with your children, too.

We need not fear. (Isaiah 41:10)

Without fear, but being sober-minded in our call to teach our children well while we have them under our wing, let us daily prepare them to be launched into a sin-sick world.

We are called to be in the world, but not of it! (Romans 12:2)

Luke 1:37
For with God nothing shall be impossible.

Psalm 68:5
A Father of the fatherless and a Judge for the widows, Is God in His holy habitation.

Hebrews 12:1-3
Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us also lay aside every encumbrance and the sin which so easily entangles us, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, fixing our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of faith, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross, despising the shame, and has sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. For consider Him who has endured such hostility by sinners against Himself, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Isaiah 41:10
‘Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’

Romans 12:2
“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.”

Photo courtesy of lettersfrombarnabas.com

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress

No excuses, just keep it together, momma.

REALITY: Two errands this morning before lunch (with wee tribe in tow) . . . it shoulda been simple. I’ve gotten them pretty well trained, right? Well, ‘in-training’ necessarily means NOT COMPLETE . . . especially when Weak Mommy makes an appearance.

The BAD NEWS: As I got ready to pay, I could NOT find my wallet. Standing at the cashier, emptying my overly cluttered purse into another bag, a few of my kiddos noticed their somewhat frantic and distracted Weak Mommy (still a dysregulating experience for two of my sweet lambs) and they went for my ‘mental jugular’ by whining, asking for every impulse item on display, picking on each other, demanding food, and basically performing the one-act play: HOW TO FAST-TRACK MOMMY TO THE LOONEY BIN.

The stranger behind me had a look. What was it? I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it was something close to disgust, or judgment, or maybe impatience.

I am sure I’ve worn that face before, too.

Even so, I chose not to make excuses. I just stayed on task. It’s no one else’s business anyway. I won’t dishonor my children that way or inadvertently teach them to make excuses for poor behavior.

Besides, I knew GOD knew my kiddos were still in training. I knew GOD knew where my wallet was. I knew GOD wasn’t going to abandon me right there as I teetered on the edge of sobbing. I knew right then that our plans for the day had to change. I wrote a check (totally forgot about that option because it’s been so long since I’ve written one). Then, we got outta there!

THE GOOD NEWS: Although I was, as I said, “teetering” on the edge of sobbing and um, eh-hem, maybe even screaming, I didn’t because God’s truth from my quiet time earlier that morning was still strobing through my brain like a Lighthouse Beacon. I finally found my wallet (after looking in seven wrong places and turning those places upside down), the kids got to have Chick-fil-A for lunch instead of my less-expensive, original home-cooked plan, the errands were completed a mere 3 hours later than I’d hoped that they would be done, and the babies actually napped.

THE BEST NEWS: God’s grace and strength were abundant and on display for me and my wee tribe. He really is sufficient.

“And He has said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.’ Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me.”
2 Corinthians 12:9

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress

Training my children to hear from God

The other day my 11-year-old son purchased two protein drinks from Sprouts with his own money. He drank one and planned to save the other drink for himself for another day.

Later that same day we went to pick up his 14-year-old big brother who was a Recreation Crew team member at Vacation Bible School. He was, to put it mildly, suffering from End of the Week VBS Exhaustion.

Big Brother asked Little Brother if he could have the protein drink instead. Little Brother said yes. He didn’t ask for any reimbursement or any glory. Honestly, I was shocked.

My youngest son’s strong tendency to be territorial over every little thing he owns made this seemingly small blip on the screen of life a truly monumental moment!

I talked with my youngest son later that day about his selfless act of sharing. He told me that he felt the Lord had already prepared him to give it away and he was glad to be able to bless his brother. He did this out of a sacrificial love for his big brother.

I seized that teachable moment to discuss with him the notion of inner promptings. I explained that following false impressions can be disastrous. However, following the promptings that are in keeping with God’s character and His Word lead to blessings. I told him that this is what I believe he did when he shared his extra protein drink with his big brother.

1 John 3:17 says, “But if anyone has the world’s goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God’s love abide in him?”

When our children want to share from their own bounty, as parents we want to verbally encourage them to do the right thing. But if we hold our tongue and wait for the Spirit of God to work on their hearts, they will learn so much more than simply doing what we prompt them to do. They will learn to follow the prompting of the Holy Spirit.

Deuteronomy 11:19 tells us, “You shall teach these things to your sons, talking of them when you sit in your house and when you walk along the road and when you lie down and when you rise up.”

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress

Making an elderly couple cry

Recently, at Cracker Barrel, I made an elderly couple cry. I would do it all over again tomorrow, too, if I could.

One of my sons and two of my daughters were with me. I hope they learn to make others cry, too.

I noticed the old man, shaking from Parkinson’s Disease, out of the corner of my eye, wearing a USS Perkins cap on his gray head.

(The Navy destroyer, USS Perkins, served in WWII. My 11 year-old son knew this. I did not.)

I asked him if he had served in WWII and he said he was on that ship for 17 months. In fact, he proudly declared, he was in Japan when the peace treaty was signed.

Just about then his wife arrived at their table, using a walker. In spite of his rapid tremors and difficulty walking, he stood up in order to let her slip past so she could sit on the inside chair. There they were, sitting on the same side of the table like two love birds! Precious!

This couple captured my heart.

He said they’ve been married for 76 years.

She said he’s the most wonderful man in the whole world.

He said he pays her well to say those things.

She said she’s a woman who speaks her own mind and that he truly is the best man ever.

I asked if they eat at Cracker Barrel often.

Apparently they eat lunch there every day. Even the waitress knew their order before they spoke a word of it.

I asked if they enjoy a senior discount. He smiled a sheepish grin and told me that they are allowed to order off the children’s menu. Adorable!

That’s when I knew making them cry was my appointed duty that day.

I asked if they would allow me to buy their meal.

For a bit, I thought they couldn’t hear me because she looked confused and shook her head in what seemed like disagreement. So, I asked him if he would mind if I bought their meal. He nodded his approval.

She said “Oh dear,” when I got their check from the waitress.

After returning from the cashier, I told them their meal was paid for, and as I handed them a gift card, I told them that their next 4 meals were also covered by the Lord God Almighty. I explained that I am just the blessed servant who gets to do this for them today.

She asked me to repeat for her who I said was paying for their meals.

I told them about the people in front of us at the In-N-Out Burger drive-thru who bought my large family our meal only a few days before that. Then, I told her that in the same as I had been blessed, our Great God wanted to bless them, too. It was His money paying for their meals.

Tears flowed freely from both of them, but even through the tears, I saw a sparkle in his eyes. His voice trembled as rapidly as his hands shook from Parkinson’s Disease and he said he wanted to tell me a blessing story.

Many years ago in North Carolina, a grandmother and her two granddaughters traveled 100 miles to a general store for supplies. The store owner’s 5 year-old son did something naughty and the older granddaughter said that the boy “ort” [ought] to be spanked, but the younger granddaughter said he “ort not” be spanked.

Fifteen years later, the store owner’s son and that young granddaughter met again. Her grandmother recognized the teen as the naughty 5 year-old boy and she told the pair of teens the story from 10 years prior. The WWII Veteran continued his story with this revealing detail that from that day on, the store owner’s son and the young granddaughter were inseparable. That was 78 years ago.

He ended his story with, “She’s my gift from God.”

I looked at his beautiful bride, eyes drooping from age with tears pouring down her wrinkled, sagging face. They are still in love. They testified of God’s blessing of enduring love through many hardships as a Southern Baptist pastor for 50 years and that’s when they made me cry.

As a single mom on a tight budget, I feel like the money I spent that day brought abundant returns to me and to my children. I don’t need a reward in heaven for this act of kindness. I already received my reward by way of the precious intimacy I experienced with strangers and the joy of making them cry!

Unless God plans for me to live to be 130 years old, I won’t ever get to enjoy 76 years of marriage. But I’ll tell ya what, I won’t settle for any less of a man.

Psalm 65:11, “You crown the year with a bountiful harvest; even the hard pathways overflow with abundance.”

Copyright © 2014 Deborah Rice, PeaPodFamilyPress