I’m moving this comment up here because I don’t want it to get lost in the fray. Another Believer makes a good point—one I agree with but don’t reiterate often enough. His comment is in response to a post I wrote way back, Thinking outside the box. Regular readers will remember the ideas in it because I blather on about it all the time. Here’s the copy verbatim, emphasis mine:

Thanks for the post! You bring up some great tried and true ideas. For most of the world’s population they’d hardly raise an eyebrow. We’ve given up some of the great joys in life in going too far in the direction of individualism. My own family is part Mexican (my mother’s father) and we still hold onto some of the old values, along with our family’s own tradition of military and public service. It is expected that you stay home with the children, at least while they are very young. That you take in and take care of your parents and unwed uncles and aunts when they are old. That you look out for your brothers and sisters and try to live nearby if you can (the old standing joke about you mess with a Mexican, you mess with the whole family has some truth to it!) That faith is central to life and family and time to breathe trumps career any day. I’ve seen the same traditions in Italy, Spain, and the Middle East, and I know it also common in Asia and of course Africa. Combined with a Christian mindset this lifestyle is ideal.

But here’s a point, you needn’t homestead. That is the idyllic version, but really you can live this way in a small town or even in a city if you can find a quiet neighborhood within walking distance of a grocer with small and somewhat run-down houses just waiting for little gardens and front porch socializing!

He’s right that you don’t need 100 acres in the country to live a simple life now. We’ve taken solid steps on our 1/3 acre suburban plot toward building a good life. We live below our means, aren’t rushed, and don’t wish to be the Jones’. We choose our commitments carefully, and that means baseball and church for everyone. While only our oldest sits in the batting order, the rest of us talk with folks in the community, raid the concession stand, or watch the game. I keep the umpire in line and Greg helps in the dugout. We’ve planted plum, fig, orange, grapefruit, pear, and apple trees—all low-chill varieties, and I maintain a vegetable garden when I’m not pregnant and sick. We have a peach tree too, but I think it’s a goner. We can walk to our church.

We sit on our front porch a lot.

Why would we want to move on? We don’t, really, except for one thing. So let me explain the driving factor, as I really believe that a lot of good things can be found right where you are; it’s not found in glossy red barn shot in Hobby Farms magazine. The secret to joy is being content in whatever circumstance you find yourself.

That said, there are a few things that make our community a bad long-range goal for our children. The first is, a ¼ acre lot in a regular neighborhood costs $100,000. That’s without the house. Then when you add in property taxes and hurricane insurance, you are well over the regular price for a house in other parts of the country and you don’t even own a house yet. Building prices are running $125+ a square foot. That’s not living space; that’s your roofline.

Now, this may all change by the time our children grow up, but I don’t suspect the price will go down. Here’s the thing. By staying here, you either force the kids out-of-state, force them into 60+ hour workweeks or dual-incomes, or force them into a lifetime of debt-servicing.

Our situation is a little unique, with Greg recently being able to work from home. The cost of living in our area is 105% of the national average (though that seems low). In contrast, we’ve found several good communities out-of-state at 70%. (Google “cost of living calculator.”) While we can choose to live below our means in order not to go into debt, it makes sense to choose the lower cost if God has not called you elsewhere. When He calls, He always provides, so I would feel fine if we heard Him telling us to stay.

Everyone has their own unique set of factors that cause them to choose where they live: God’s providence, family in the area, jobs, climate due to health reasons, etc. I don’t suspect that everyone will understand or sympathize with my specific reasoning, and that’s OK. It’s unique to us.

Awhile back, someone wrote to me for advice. She said that through a series of circumstances, they owned outright a million dollar house in an affluent town. Her husband, however, was still working like a dog at a blue collar job in town. They couldn’t make ends meet. They were in debt because his salary didn’t cover food and basics for their large family. The answer seemed obvious to me. I told her to cash out of their house, take the proceeds, buy a humble (but large) house in a drastically cheaper area, and retire (or secure another job if that wasn’t feasible). To my knowledge, they didn’t take my advice. It’s radical, but it makes a lot of sense.

Now, every time we’ve planned to go look at property, something has come up. Most recently, my ill health. Perhaps that’s just the way the cookie crumbles or perhaps that’s God’s leading through circumstances; it’s hard to tell just yet. Either way, it’s helpful to talk and think about these things. Perhaps it will give you a creative idea for your own children, even if it doesn’t help you right now. It’s new to me that we don’t all have to grow up, get a job, spouse, and a mortgage, and then work until we’re 65 to service debt instead of our families. My way may not be the way for you, but it’s helpful to continue to think outside of the industrial box, taking small steps right where you are.

“Mother says we ought to study God’s providence more than we do, since He has a meaning and a purpose in everything He does. Sometimes I can do this and find it a source of great happiness. Then worldly cares seem mere worldly cares, and I forget that His wise, kind hand is in every one of them.“
(Katy in Stepping Heavenward, page 216)

We’re often asked, “Well, how many are you going to have?!” Sometimes this is a statement and sometimes it is an honest question. We don’t answer, “As many as the Lord sends,” though we admire those whose faith causes them to answer that way. I tell them –strangers and friends alike—that we’re just taking them one at a time. Cancer, depression, or physical problems beyond pain and nausea could cause us to make decisions differently. Each difficult pregnancy is a step of faith, and we depend on our Creator to renew our faith each time.

He who has the most children doesn’t win. God’s glory is the end, not family in itself. It is all-consuming now, but it won’t always be. They will be ready to take on the world one day. As God blesses us, we depend on him for our children’s salvation, knowing that He requires much from us along the way. What good is it to suffer pain in the beginning, neglect our duty to train them in the way they should go, and then end up with a fool in the end? God desires godly offspring, not a pack of consumer gluttons. We work and He works. We believe and He helps our unbelief.

When God sent our third child, I didn’t understand what He was doing. We’d already had a preschooler and a toddler. Didn’t He know we were already busy over here? Didn’t He know that I wasn’t ready? I found it hard to get back to sleep after being woken up (until #5 came along) and so I asked Him about these things when she’d cry in the middle of the night. I didn’t understand then what I know a little of now: He never makes mistakes and does nothing arbitrarily.

God knew what I needed when I didn’t know it myself. Annalise, my third, is a picture of grace and goodness. She doesn’t speak crossly or complain. She is the one who has waited on me while I’ve been in bed these past several weeks. She gave me her last piece of bubble gum yesterday. She is patient, kind, and eager to please; she is everything that I am not.

It’s not for me to say what other people should be doing. As one who sinks into despair during the worst of it, how could I judge someone else for the same? And what of God’s providence in His refusal as well? Isn’t a “no” from a spouse the same as a “no” from God? “The king’s heart is in the hand of the LORD; he directs it like a watercourse wherever he pleases. All a man’s ways seem right to him, but the LORD weighs the heart.” (Proverbs 21:1-2)

When my childbearing years end, I hope to know more of the words, “They that trust Him wholly, find Him wholly true.” Seems like God can use anything to secure our worship and dependence, but this is way for now.

“And now I am waiting for my Father’s next gift, and the new cares and labors it will bring with it. I am glad it is not left for me to decide my own lot. Welcoming a new bird into the nest, dearly as I love the rustle of their wings and the sound of their voices when they do come. And surely He knows the right moments who knows all my struggles with a certain sort of poverty, poor health and domestic care. If I could feel that all the time, as I do at this moment, how happy I would always be!” (page 215)

“The coming of each new child strengthens and deepens my desire to be what I would have it become; makes my faults more loathsome in my eyes, and elevates my whole character. What a blessed discipline of joy and of pain my married life has been and how thankful I am to reap its fruits even while pricked by its thorns!” (page 180)

(Thank you to Sarah for typing out all these quotes so I could just copy them.)

Life with three under three, #1
Life with three under three, #2
Life with three under three, #3
Life with three under three, #4
Life with three under three, #5
Life with three under three, #6

Bear with me as my lovely blog administrator works on some tech issues with the site. There were some comments and emails lost this past week.

If you used the Contact Form earlier this week and never heard back from me, that’s because I didn’t receive it. Please consider resending or reposting your comments.

Awhile back, I wrote a brief post titled, Guidance: “I figure that a lot of life’s problems could be solved simply by putting ourselves at the mercy of God, giving ourselves wholly to Him. We have to settle once and for all that there is nothing ‘off limits’ to God, and then we have to do it again each day.”

I received an email in response, which I’ve been given permission to share:

I so struggle in the area you wrote about in Guidance … the short version is that I’m so afraid that if I completely let go, something bad will happen ~ especially health-wise ~ to me, my husband or my children. I know I shouldn’t care, so to speak (to live is Christ …), but I’m just not at that point. Any thoughts about how I can get past this fear?

The emailer and I have something in common, as I’ve struggled with these same thoughts. What if God asks something of me that I’m not ready to give? We already know that oftentimes He supplies grace when it is necessary and not before then. That makes things simple, but not necessarily easy. What then, in the meantime?

Some of you might remember this exchange in The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe:

“Is — is he a man?” asked Lucy.

“Aslan a man!” said Mr. Beaver sternly. “Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of the Beasts? Aslan is a lion — the Lion, the great Lion.”

“Ooh,” said Susan, “I thought he was a man. Is he — quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.”

“That you will, dearie, and make no mistake,” said Mrs. Beaver, “if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else silly.”

“Then he isn’t safe?” said Lucy.

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver, “don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

As Christians, we must trust God not only for our salvation but also for the very details of our lives. He is good–and not just in a Sunday School sort of way.

Sometime in November I will face one of my biggest fears—the fear of pain in transition. During my last labor, transition lasted an hour without a break between contractions. I do not dread the pain; it’s so much more than that. Whenever I talk about it, my voice shakes, my stomach knots up, and I tighten my fists and curl my toes. I am afraid.

Jesus tells us in Matthew 10:28, “Do not be afraid of those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul. Rather, be afraid of the One who can destroy both soul and body in hell.”

In the next couple months, I hope to keep an update on my progress of trusting God for the thing that I fear. Reading positive birth stories, educating myself on the fear-tension-pain cycle, and exploring all my options are some of the things that I’m doing to take responsibility.

In the end, it is my goal to be able to say that I fear God and nothing else. It is a journey and I’m not there yet. There is a lot more to say, and so I’ll keep these posts organized under the category of “Fear.”

A long while back, a fad referred to as “The Clown Church” or various forms of it was the object of the internet firing squad—which is a tough place to be no matter who you are. It was good and right that they should have been ridiculed off the playground. Clowns serving communion, painting the faces of worshippers, and officiating the service is so ridiculous that it’s hard to know where to begin.

About fifteen years ago, I was reading about the life of Amy Carmichael, missionary to India. It is difficult to remember the story exactly, but the gist was this. Some of the people she was working with wanted to set up a spot to allow the women and children to do some crafts in order to draw them in. Afterward, they would share the gospel story plainly. She staunchly replied, “The gospel needs no frills.”

One of the working themes of biblical faith is that it is not separate from the rest of life. Faith is not only for the deathbed or Sunday mornings, but for each and every detail of life. Only a fool would say that the Bible does not speak to modern day people and the peculiar challenges that they face; only the ignorant would say that methods and means justify the end. Does the Bible have anything to say about clowns?

There is a church nearby that has/had the clowns. (We’re very progressive down here in Florida.) My husband half-suggested that we visit. (!) What would we do with the children, though, to whom we just read and explained the story of Uzzah—the guy God struck down for balancing the ark when the ox stumbled?

From the local church’s site, the clowns respond to the protests with this, “We have had 15 seconds of fame on ‘Christian’ websites that say we are not honoring God, I have received emails and phone calls… that say I am going to be held accountable (2 Corinthians 5:10) and that I am making a mockery of Jesus…’Bless those who persecute you; bless and do not curse them.’”

It’s not my habit to point out the absurd in the evangelical ghetto. There are other websites that devote themselves to this task, and unfortunately, they never lack for material. But my point is two-fold. First, I need to remember not to succumb to the ole’ judge-not standby when there is no biblical defense for my decision. It’s just tacky and intellectually weak. Many people who claim to suffer for Jesus are really just suffering for their own stupidity. This stings a little more if I apply it to my own laziness in doing what I ought than if I just relegate it to the clowns.

Second, the Bible speaks to all of life. “Clown” isn’t in a topical index. This is why we need to know God. He has made a way to do this by giving us His Word. If you want to know what God thinks about partial-birth abortion procedures, worship, raising children amid a relativistic culture, or clowns serving communion, then it is best to plod your way through the Bible. Study the Bible. Then you will be able to discern between the good and bad concerning today’s hot topic.

I wrote a response to the questions in the comment boxes about epidurals. Unfortunately it is already two-and-a-half pages long, single-spaced. I have three points to make (even though I’m not a Baptist preacher), but I’ve only made one so far in all that muttering. I haven’t forgotten about it, but I need to get it under control first.

In the context of writing about plagiocephaly (huh?), Valerie mentions this, “You do what’s best for your babies, while keeping in mind risks and taking reasonable and responsible precautions. You hold, cuddle, carry and nurse your babies (as you are able) in ways that provide for their emotional/spiritual needs as well as their physical, according to what is most appropriate within your family dynamics. No two families or babies are identical, things will work differently under different circumstances. You also learn and grow with each new baby and methods and priorities sometimes change or transform. Sometimes something that works becomes a habit with future babies.”

I found her words a good explanation of how many larger families adjust and adapt to doing things. Every baby is different, and usually, there is a different circumstance to each new baby’s arrival. Michelle Dugger, mother of practically two baseball teams, says, “Here I am a mama with her 17th child on the way, and so many people think ‘Oh you’ve got it all figured out.’ I am still learning. Just when I think I’ve got something figured out I try it on the next one and it doesn’t work.”

Flexibility seems to be a common theme to getting it all done. (Figuring out what needs to be done and what can be left undone is another.) You have to adjust. Now, it’s my humble opinion that you can be a little too flexible. I accuse Somebody In This House of this all the time. Guys parent differently than the ladies.

Just the other day, the big kids grabbed the camera and told on Dad when I came downstairs. The fact that the baby is still in his jammies at 1 p.m. is something I do too, so I can’t laugh too much at that one. But me? I never miss the kids’ naptime. Are you crazy?!

One of the advantages of being married to a rocket scientist is that we start Rocket Science lessons in the cradle. Our students learn to assemble a rocket from scratch, paint/prepare rockets for launch, and then launch them. After that, we head to the park while someone (me) stands in a fire ant pile while everyone else gets in recovery position. (The Junior Recoverer is only 14 months, so he runs the wrong way.) Greg hooks up everything while hollering at me for safety violations.

We learn official terms for rocket activity, like, “The rocket crashed. It blew up…into fire.” Sometimes Greg will explain the trigonometry so that we can calculate the distance the rocket flew, but all anyone wants to know is how many parts got smashed, broken, or lost.

Well, that’s our exciting life. I wonder what proctologists do with their kids.

Here’s the not-too-exciting 5/16/07 video (RSS readers will probably have to click over to my site) of a scale model Saturn V and a scale model Space Shuttle.

Now that we’re past 15 weeks, things are looking up. (Thanks for asking.) I’m still queasy sometimes, but I’m no longer vomiting all day long. I think it took longer to pull through it due to nutritional deficiencies from excessive vomiting. (Sorry, I’ll try not to use that word again.) I’m taking vitamins, herbs, and other such potions –or “nuts and twigs” as Greg calls them—now that I can stomach it.

People often ask me if nausea is worse with girls or boys. In my own case, I haven’t noticed a difference. I’ve had morning sickness and/or hyperemesis with every pregnancy, but there was a significant difference with one pregnancy–child #5.

I was queasy with him, but it was the only pregnancy where I avoided Phenergan and Zofran. True, I felt really bad, but it was noticeably different. I don’t recall wanting to die or anything like that.

Maybe you remember me telling this story in 2005 (probably not):

…a bad storm rolled in and I heard a few pops, so I went over to my computer to shut it down. Upon putting my finger on the pad (that thing you use instead of a mouse), lightning hit and sent me flying back and yelling. I got a bad shock, but to make the story more interesting, I’ll say that I was hit by lightning….indirectly. Three of the kids were wailing because of the boom and the kitten went into hiding. Hopefully, it’s permanent. The cat part.

I’m not suggesting that everyone should go out and get struck by lightning to cure their morning sickness. I’m just saying that it’s the only thing that was different. I got this shock in my first trimester when we were expecting our fifth, and things went well after that.

There are long-term effects that I should probably disclose, though. Our fifth child is 14-months-old, and we call him “Bam Bam” for very good reason. He’s got a pretty wild hairdo too.

Having finished Ten P’s in a Pod last week—a story of one family’s commitment to reading the Scriptures– I got to thinking about our own family’s commitment through the years. We’ve been through phases where it was more difficult than others to maintain consistency. We’ve made some mistakes, and we’ve seen fruit in some unexpected places.

True to the humbleness of this blog, I’ll stick to our errors. One of our early mistakes was substituting Bible storybooks for the plain reading of the Scriptures. Our reasoning—like many young parents—was that it was important to hold the interest of toddlers. Bible stories with cartoon Israelites were the way to do it. (Of course, children reared on a steady media diet need more commercial toxins to feed their habit. You can’t just go cold turkey, right?) Which is not to say that flannelgraphs are evil, just that “faith comes by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.”

This means that children must hear the Bible—not just stories from it. The Sunday School version of “Jonah and the Whale” doesn’t adequately cover sin, repentance, and the holiness of God—hard counsel that our souls need. The beautiful thing is that, somehow, the plain sort of reading is on everyone’s “level.”

But what if they won’t sit still to hear a plain reading of the Bible? Allow me to answer this not from a lofty standpoint of perfectly obedient children who fold their hands during devotions, but from a standpoint of quitting early because of the ruckus, yet continuing on still the following night. Our children sit well, but it hasn’t always been this way. There are occasional attitudes, including my own, that we deal with.

In order for a two-year-old to sit well and listen intently, she must have learned to do this from the beginning. We didn’t give her Bible candy stories and then snatch it away one day. It’s just the way it has always been; she doesn’t know any different. That’s it. There’s no other secret. We’ve had no problem from the younger children coming up since they were taught this way from the beginning.

When Greg read through all nine chapters of genealogies in I Choronicles two weeks ago, it took two full evenings. The dog fell asleep, and the toddler did too. The rest of us kept awake by adding to our list of possible baby names: Jushab-Hesed, Bukki, and Iddo. There are times we push through, but more often, nobody wants the reading to end. These words are life, and they feed our souls.

Regarding our decision to read the Bible unedited:

“…when all Israel comes to appear before the LORD your God at the place he will choose, you shall read this law before them in their hearing. Assemble the people—men, women and children, and the aliens living in your towns—so they can listen and learn to fear the LORD your God and follow carefully all the words of this law. Their children, who do not know this law, must hear it and learn to fear the LORD your God as long as you live in the land you are crossing the Jordan to possess.” ~Deuteronomy 31:11-13

I grew up in a Brethren-esque family where we did the long Scripture readings from the KJV. Just because a child can sit still through a long Bible-reading doesn’t mean she’s actually absorbing anything. Honestly, what does a child glean from a list of genealogies?

What I learned to do well was sit quietly and LOOK obedient, whilst daydreaming and making up stories in my head.

“All Scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness, that the man of God may be complete, thoroughly equipped for every good work.” II Timothy 3: 16-17

Greg is preaching next month in our home church, and his text is from the genealogies! The point is not reading just to say we read the words. The point is doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness, and all of Scripture is profitable for that. We make sure to teach (not just read) the genealogies and the rest of Scripture, to make sure that the kids get the point of why God put them in there.

One of the things we strive to do with our home is to make it a place where everyone wants to be. This doesn’t just apply to Bible reading but everything. We are strict (meaning: we mean what we say) but we have a lot of fun too, even with genealogies.

I agree that we shouldn’t feed our kids “Bible candy stories” only, but I see no harm in explaining the truth of Scriptures in a way a child can understand…

Right. God sent pastors and teachers for our edification. Our best conversations happen during this time.

Do you do some sort of catechizing as well?

Yes, we use the Children’s Shorter Catechism.

I’m interested in knowing what version you read for devotions . . . and why?

We usually read NIV or NKJV for personal preference. We are trying to decide between the ESV and the NKJV for our family’s memorization and the children’s Bibles. Greg gives a class on textual criticism, but I’m afraid I don’t take detailed notes.

I don’t have kids yet, but I was shocked that they listen so intently and understand. What kind of things do you and Greg find yourselves explaining the most frequently?

We just explain the text as the questions come up: the background, the context, the purpose God might have had in writing it. We talk theology.

What’s happening here is that we are all learning who God is. We aren’t studying “pet issues,” but rather gaining discernment and understanding that we can apply to our culture. If we were to listen to the popular evangelical discussion, we’d only know that Jesus wants to be our buddy. We’d know nothing of the God of Isaiah 6.

What fruit have you seen in your children’s lives, as well as your own, from reading Scripture together as a family?

All our children love God, showing evidence of their faith in deeds in accordance with their ages. Our three oldest have made professions of their faith and pray for the confessions of their youngest siblings. We don’t take a you-just-wait-and-see-until-they’re-teenagers approach; we are trusting God to keep them. I don’t know another way.

As for Greg and I, we are convicted of sin and strengthened in our faith.

Do you have any sort of reading plan or a goal for how much/how long to read? Or do you just read what you can each night?

We read until there’s a good stopping point. Sometimes the discussion takes over and before you know it, an hour has passed. Sometimes we make good tracks. When you have all preschoolers, I imagine that consistency is more important than length. Young children thrive on routine. Now that we have elementary ages along with preschoolers, the enthusiasm and peer pressure from the olders is enough to keep them interested.

I enlisted my son to help write a few notes of gratitude for all the help we’ve received these past months. The months were hard, but our load was lightened by our friends.

On one particular note, my son thanked a woman for sending good food over. He wrote in part, “…Thank you for the porcupine meatballs. We loved them. I hope you can make it again.”

I paused before sending it, knowing that it was inappropriate to “ask” for more but also knowing that she might appreciate and understand the young lad’s enthusiasm.

Well…she brought over another two meals, including the porcupine meatballs, both with generous portions.

I think this one of those things you file away—not so that you can use that technique again but so that you can smile and remember.

Our very good friend, Stacy, died this weekend in a car accident. It seems disingenuous to talk about something else when something so heavy hangs over everything we do for now. Our circle of friends feel the shock of something that wasn’t expected, even though we should all expect death sometime. She was 36 and her children are 15, 7, and 4.

We ate together five days before she died and talked about the usual stuff: how her new business was going, what’s going on with the house they’re building, and normal family life. Her husband, Dave, did his magic tricks. (If you know Dave, pardon my stating the obvious, because Dave always has a magic trick.) Our kids played afterward on the church playground until the mosquitoes got too bad.

While people continue with shopping, playing, and working, the world has stopped for Stacy’s husband and children. It is good to pause and consider your state before God. We (the Scotts) know that Christ’s blood has covered our sin since we have put our faith in Him, yet it behooves us not to waste our lives. Have you put your faith in Christ? He purchased us so that we could live for Him, making the most of our moments.

I’ve come to terms with my over-inflated sense of self-worth this weekend. Just because other people need me doesn’t mean that God won’t call me Home. (I suppose I believed this objectively but not in my heart.) I should’ve noticed that the house still stood (I really thought it wouldn’t) while I laid in bed for a few months recently. God has us each here for a purpose, which might be different than the one we think we are here for. Glorify God with the task He has for you today, knowing that He is the One holding things together.

Stacy was the lady in church who stole your newborn and wouldn’t give him/her back. She loved on your children and hogged them. She was opinionated, feisty, and kind all at the same time. Nobody got in a fight with her, maybe because we’re all sure we’d lose (even me). She bought me the coordinating earrings for a necklace I had even though it wasn’t my birthday, because I thought it was ridiculous to spend that kind of money on that kind of thing. She could whip your tail into shape even though she was barely five feet tall.

Besides quarreling less and loving more, we asked the children what they’d want to do if it was their last day here. My oldest said that he’d want to go to Steak-n-Shake with our whole family.

For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us.

Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.

And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose.

He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?

But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope.

For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Remember when I told you that having three children, aged three and under, was tough? Whenever I have a really tiring day, I try to remember that it’s only one day. It won’t last a whole year again. From the “it gets easier” files, Jennifer Hunt writes:

My oldest is 13 and youngest is 9 days old. We have 8. [Amy: as in children, not pets]

It does get easier! When the kids were all littles, I felt like a maid, not a [mother]… I can remember crying out to the Lord for help (I had heard of other people who did this and actually received help) and still nothing…It was unbelievably difficult.

As the kids have gotten older, I have also gotten more organized (and a lot less sentimental about STUFF.) This combination, as well as having a couple of kids now that can almost pull their own share, has really made it all so much easier. Probably the lack of expectation has helped some, too.

Also, it is hard to imagine when you are in your 20’s and struggling financially that your finances also change as you get older. If you aren’t making more money, you may have at least gotten a grip on the money you do have and how to make it go farther. When we were in our 20’s and had two toddlers, we made about 20K a year and had 25K in consumer debt AND a house that we couldn’t sell for what we owed on it. Talk about stress.

Once we had our consumer debt paid off (and the house sold, too) we felt so much less stressed out. Not to say that all 20-somethings struggle financially (and that 30- and 40-year-olds don’t) but usually the first years of marriage are spent digging yourself into debt.

The biggest change for us was when the oldest child was old enough to babysit…We didn’t have any family nearby to help us [for emergencies] so it was so helpful when I could run down the street to the store for 20 minutes without taking anyone with me. It made my life so much easier. Now that the oldest is 13, we leave her in charge when we go grocery shopping and then all the kids help us unload. Even the littles help with this chore.

Every situation is different, but usually we assume that the situation we are in will be like that forever. It is hard to see that light at the end of the tunnel. When you have all littles, it is hard to think of having anymore since they are all so needy. But God grows the littles into really helpful older kids so by the time you have your hands completely full, you have older ones to help with some things. Not to say I don’t get overwhelmed at times, but so many things have gotten easier for the most part.

To summarize what Jennifer is saying, she got rid of junk (so she didn’t have to keep moving it around, picking it up, and shuffling it), got rid of debt, and enlisted the kids to help.

I remember thinking that I’d “arrived” when they could buckle their own seatbelts. Now, all I have to do is yell, “LOOOAD UP!” [make the first word last real long for effect], and they all scamper into the van with shoes on (usually) and buckled in—even the baby.

I also rarely do dishes. This doesn’t make things incredibly easier, as the work just spreads to other areas, but it’s not like the children sit around waiting for me to do tricks all day.

One time, I sent my oldest into the local coffee shop and he came out with my order. That was a good day. Yep, we’re moving along here.

But babysitting—that is the day I’m looking forward to. [Crank up the Stayin’ Alive tunes.] I can’t yet justify laying down for a couple hours while the nine-year-old watches one-year-old “Bam Bam.” It just wouldn’t be prudent. My oldest has his hands full already with that dumb dog. But I can’t say ya’ll didn’t warn us about that one.