I get all my good stories from my husband. So, Greg told me about a discussion he participated in this week with other local realtors about matters of the economy. An elderly gentleman offered his observations on the state of our local housing market. The discussion goes on well until a young, upstart realtor corrects something—which could be considered a matter of opinion—the elderly gentleman said. Armed with a little bit of (book) knowledge, the young man took aim and fired.

Greg tells me that it was quite uncomfortable and embarrassing having to listen to the critique. Finally, someone with nerve spoke up and asked, “Do you know who you just criticized?” The elderly man whom the young man was blasting happened to be the wealthiest, most successful multi-million dollar property owner in the county.

Greg tells me this phenomenon happened all the time while he was a student in seminary. Some young kid would read a book, arm himself with a little theological know-how, and then proceed to argue a point with the professor while everyone sat there and waited. Situations like these are always uncomfortable, not because the teacher is never wrong, but because some students don’t understand the value of humility, building relationships, and community in the context of learning.

And these are my comments in regards to the profitable discussion on the post below. I think that is what the verse, “Let your speech be always with grace, seasoned with salt, that ye may know how ye ought to answer every man,” means as one commenter pointed out. (Colossians 4:6) The person who gets knowledge should also arm himself with wisdom and understanding. Knowledge is like having a tool, but wisdom is knowing how and when to use it.

Reading Wendell Berry this week reminded me of all this. I don’t understand half of what he says, but I’m smart enough to know that I should make an effort to try. I disagreed with him on some certain matter, but I kept reading anyway as I figured it was worth my time.

As a Christian, I answer a certain question every morning when I wake up. I don’t always think about it, per se, but it’s always there. That question I answer aloud, through my actions, decisions, and what entertainment I retire with in the evening if any, is, Since I believe, how should I live? Or in other words, I believe, now what?

Marva Dawn discusses the idea of Christians living as an alternative, parallel community in her book, Is It a Lost Cause?: “To be parallel keeps us from being so alternative that we don’t relate to our neighbors…” and by this, she means, that we live, work, and play in the same society alongside others for the good of the Gospel, and “…to be alternative prevents our parallel line form moving closer and closer to modes of life alien to the kingdom of God,” and by this, she means, that our music, poetry, songs, entertainments, prayers, and culture are not just a bad rip-off of the secular form, but a radically God-centered alternative. It is other-than.

In other words, we ought not to take our cues from the broader culture and Christianize it, but that we ought to create, live, and enjoy another one. After Marva Dawn states the obvious, I was thinking, “Wow, what a great insight,” yet the Bible doesn’t come near to teaching otherwise. Our evangelical culture is far removed from a Biblical one; we are hardly distinguishable from the world (browse my sidebar links).

In his preaching this past Sunday, my husband asked, “If someone were to come into your home, would they be able to tell you loved Christ by the books on your shelves, the show on your TV, the way you spend your time?” Does the way that I spend my money reflect that I am living for another world? As recipients of His grace, we are made for His glory and our obedience flows out of love for Him: “In the future, when your son asks you, ‘What is the meaning of the stipulations, decrees and laws the LORD our God has commanded you?’ tell him: ‘We were slaves of Pharaoh in Egypt, but the LORD brought us out of Egypt with a mighty hand.’” (Deut. 6:20-21) Put another way, we were blind, but now we see.

This week a friend told me the story of some karaoke fun at a church function in which the teenage girls took the occasion to sing all their favorite Britney Spears songs. Some parishioners protested, as such things weren’t fitting for a church function. The question, though, is not why this was allowed at a church function, but why do our girls know and rehearse all those lyrics in the first place? Is this OK so long as it’s at home in our bedrooms?

We are a “chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a peculiar people.” (I Peter 2:9) When did good orthodoxy (correct doctrine) become enough, replacing orthopraxy (right living) in its stead? If ideas have consequences, then it is fair to say that I really believe if there is no evidence? And this is the heresy of our modern churches– that Jesus can be your Savior but not your Lord.

There was a time that I would’ve said that all this sounds like a bunch of legalism justification. But now, I am learning to understand more of what Paul means in Romans 6: “What shall we say, then? Shall we go on sinning so that grace may increase? By no means! We died to sin; how can we live in it any longer?”

It’s against the law to raise chickens, goats, or a cow in our backyard, but thankfully, the government hasn’t outlawed fruit trees yet. You’re still allowed to pick out your own plants for now. Well, actually, I take that back. A few years ago, there was some citrus disease going around in Florida and so the government checked everyone’s trees, chopping down anything that looked suspicious.

We don’t have an elaborate set up over here, but our yard does show some respectable effort. It’s actually a lot of effort once you factor in the 100% humidity, hurricanes, heat, swarming mosquitoes, unidentifiable bugs, and sand. But still, I figured it was worth the time and effort to locate and import fruit varieties that adapt to this low-chill, bug infested climate. Our miniature orchard consists of orange, grapefruit, peach, pear, yellow apple, plum, and fig trees. We also have muscadine grapes.

I paid a lot of money for these trees, and Greg dug a lot of compost-filled holes. (Around here, you have to buy or make your own dirt.) He staked, tied, and propped, while I read, sprayed, and created charts. Citrus trees are the only edible trees people grow around here, for good reason.

The rains came in with a vengeance early this summer. Being only 3 feet above sea level, we can only handle so much. It poured every day. We lost our orange and grapefruit trees—citrus, the only ones with respectable hope—to drowning this week. It’s quite the let down. For all the time, money, and effort, though, we did get five grapefruit this past winter.

I would’ve chewed slower if I knew each fruit was going to net cost about six bucks.

Fundamentally, you must look around and ask: “What am I doing NOW? What can I do NOW?” You see, most folks I’ve dealt with, who really want to farm, have the notion that if they just had some land, or if they just had more land, they could farm. It’s as if an elusive something—land, equipment, buildings, markets—is always just beyond their grasp, and they are just stuck until they can acquire that magic “thing.” [snip]

Chances are if you have no desire to grow anything now, you probably never will. You can grow something, even if it is a plant in a window box. But most folks can get access to a few square feet of ground, even if it is a spare flowerbed around an apartment complex. Quit mowing the lawn and turn it into a backyard market garden. If your more concerned about what the neighbors will say when you convert your lawn into garden beds than you are about getting started in farming, you’re too peer-dependent and would not do things differently enough to succeed even if you did have a larger acreage. Better to find that out now rather than later.

~Joel Salatin, You Can Farm

It’s been awhile since I’ve written one of those “this is what’s going on” entries. Part of the reason is that I don’t think there’s much interest, and the other part is that I haven’t the inclination to update my site as much as I used to. I’m too nauseous.

As much as I yammer on about simple living, my goal has never been to lay around doing nothing. The path we’re walking on is one that declutters the unnecessary so that time is spent doing worthwhile things like daily worship, building memories with my family, and getting to know my neighbors. Lying on the couch with a bucket doesn’t seem the best way to accomplish all this, but surely the Lord already knows. I’ve resigned to endure the full nine months with nausea and vomiting, and so, at least I can salvage any more time wasted on wondering when it will end. It is certainly better than the first trimester; I’m now entering the third.

Our 17-month-old climbed over his crib twice and hit the floor with a THUD last night. We’ve never had one of these personalities before, and I’m considering putting him in a helmet or something! He is all boy—which doesn’t mean that my first one isn’t—just that you can imagine the havoc a toddler can do when he feels no pain.

Our #3 is the opposite, which is how these things work. She is so afraid of pain that she will inflict pain on herself just to avoid what she perceives as future pain. She lost a tooth yesterday and refuses to eat or drink. She awoke three times last night crying and vomiting because she was so hungry, but she refused to eat because she thought it might hurt. After 24 hours, she took some pudding, but she is still very tentative and drinking only under threat of an IV.

And it wouldn’t be fitting to talk about life if I didn’t mention the heat. It is hot, hot, hot. If you think it is hot where you are, try Florida where the heat will fry your brain on any ordinary autumn day.

I began with the most ordinary news, but now I will move on to more exciting things. Greg had a business trip in Mobile, Alabama last month. Since Alabama touches Tennessee, I wondered if he might want to “swing by” a property that looked interesting in Ethridge, Tennessee. Then, I found three properties in Kentucky that looked promising too, and since Kentucky touches Tennessee, maybe he might want to swing by those pieces as well.

I scheduled a showing for all these properties, but he’d have to make quick tracks and eat on the road. From the airport, he sent me an email, “Hey hon, Let me know if this is all or if you find something in Idaho…”

His stop in Tennessee proved fruitless, as it seems yet another land owner heard the $5500/acre rumor. It’s not in our budget, and so we had to resign ourselves to moving on, or at least waiting until the market bears out a lower price. From there, he drove all night to the Kentucky hills and got an early morning start the next day.

I didn’t hear from him until the end of the day, when he called from the last and final property:

Greg: I found it.

Me: Found what.

Greg: I found it. This is the one we’re going to buy.

Me: You’ve never said that before. Are you sure?

Greg: Yep.

Me: Have you been in the house yet?

Greg: No. I’m working on it.

Me: Then how do you know…?

Greg: Trust me. This is the one.

I’m sure there was a little more dialogue, as I don’t believe I’ve ever had a phone conversation with him while he was away wherein I didn’t mention how bad his dog is behaving without him here. Knox(er) the Boxer assumes Top Dog position without Greg here, and can I just say that I’m not in the mood?

He wrote me an email later that evening with details and pictures, using an inordinate amount of exclamation points and boldfaced sentences. This might be insignificant to you, but I know Greg, and he isn’t the sort to use smileys*, run-on sentences, and capital letters in his correspondence.

When he flew home the next day, we all sat down to watch the video he took of the unfinished house, land, and three outbuildings. I agreed that we’d never seen a better fit so far. After going back and forth for several days, we came to an agreement with the seller.

We’re dragging our feet sharing the news that we have a contract to close on the property this month, because it’s much easier to just mention it after the fact in case it falls through. I’ll save all the details for when they become our details—after we close. But really, the road before us is too exciting to not spill the news just a little. After nine years of talking about this idea in various forms, it’s hard to believe it is close. I know many will rejoice with us, which I hope we can do in the next couple weeks.

* = OK, well, he didn’t use any smileys. I think that was going too far.

The last sentence written by my email buddy, Stacey, went like this, “So, are you going to have another baby naming contest on your blog and then just go off and name the baby whatever you want again?”

OK. I realize that was pretty lousy of me, but my #5 is in real good with his grandfather. (He is named after him, which were none of the suggestions.) If it’s any consolation, I will name our next one the top contending name in the old comment boxes…if it’s a boy.

I’d like to point out that you guys named our dog. I’m just saying.

My first grader has assumed the role of “teacher” for her three-year-old sister this year. If anyone would ever ask her, “Who died and made you in charge,” she is the kind who would answer innocently, “Me.” She is a firstborn even though she is second. My real firstborn must have not gotten the memo.

I bought new schoolbooks for the three school-aged children, but I neglected to buy anything new for our preschooler. So my new teaching assistant created some activities for our three-year-old: match the shapes, complete the patterns, math problems, trace the letters, and Bible memory work.

She wrote down Genesis 1:1 for her to memorize and then on the following page wrote this “Bible story book” synopsis of Genesis 1 – 2. Note the last two sentences:

I remember the moment that I knew we were “in for it.” Our fifth child, only about 12- or 13-months-old at the time, just toddled out of the pantry with a several boxes of pasta. I could see the wheels spinning inside his head. He stacked them neatly on top of one another—perfectly, methodically. Then he climbed upon them, crushing them with his weight, and reached for something on the stove.

The boxes collapsed and he stood there looking, thinking, designing another way to get up there. This was a pretty clever maneuver at that developmental stage, and he’s only gone for broke since then. He has ideas, but no judgment. His deviousness, combined with a high threshold of pain, has brought me to my wits’ end more than once.

So, it’s with sympathy that I’m replying to an email I received this week, “Do you have any children that just test everything in you?”

There are two things that come to mind, and I’ll begin with the second. Ask someone close to you to point out any blind spots that might be hindering your dealing with this child. Then be humble enough to receive the correction instead of making excuses.

The first thing, though, is to pray for our children. Ask the Lord for His help. (I’m learning!) Tonight we were reading in II Chronicles 16 about how king Asa sought the counsel of others before he sought the Lord. God sent Asa war and disease to turn his heart back to Himself, but instead, he tried to solve his problems through other means. (Why not seek the help of a physician if you are sick, eh?) The trials were blessings– the means that God was using to get his attention and devotion. The lesson is that we ought to ask the Lord for our help. Who knows our children better?

Prayer can be as simple as, “Oh Lord, help me…” We can also pray specifically for our children, asking God to help us guide them into the people He’s set apart for Himself.

• that we and our children would grow in the fear of the Lord (Prov. 16:6).
• that we’d be constantly mindful of the fact that we are aliens and strangers here and all of our circumstances are only temporary (1 Pet. 1:17; 2:11; Jam. 4:13-15).
• that You would enable us to speak Your Word with great boldness (Acts 4:29,30).
• that we would contend for the faith against a license for immorality (Jude 3,4).
• that Christians would be encouraged in heart and united in love (Col. 2:1,2).
• that Christians would never sacrifice truth for the sake of unity (Gal. 2:5-21).
• that our love would increase more and more in knowledge and depth of insight (Phil. 1:9).
• that we would endure hatred and persecution to the end of our lives and so be saved (Mt. 10:22).
• that we would not love our physical lives so much as to shrink from death for the cause of Christ (Rev. 12:11).
• for all those with governmental authority, that we may live peaceful and quiet lives in all godliness and holiness (1 Tim. 2:1,2).
• that we would not drift away, become lukewarm or neglect such a great salvation (Heb. 2:1-4; Rev. 3:15,16).
• that we would set our hearts and minds on things in Heaven, not on things here on Earth (Col. 3:1-4).
• that the words of our mouths and the meditations of our hearts would be pleasing to You (Psa. 19:14).
• that we would be both godly and content with our unchangable circumstances (1 Tim. 6:6).
• that we would not be eager for money or deceived by it in any way (1 Tim. 6:10; Mk. 4:19).
• that You would give us neither poverty nor riches, but only our daily bread (Prov. 30:8).
• that You would keep falsehood and lies far from us (Prov. 30:8).
• that our faith would not fail (Lk. 22:32).
• that we would serve the LORD with fear and rejoice with trembling (Psa. 2:11).
• that we would be humble, contrite in spirit and tremble at God’s Word (Isa. 66:2).
• that we would grow in fruitfulness and make the most of every opportunity (Jn. 15:1-8; Eph. 5:15).
• that we’d be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry (Jam. 1:19).
• that we’d keep a tight rein on our tongues, so that we won’t deceive ourselves and make our religion worthless (Jam. 1:26).
• that we’d not fall into temptation (Lk. 22:40).
• that we’d guard our hearts from the anxieties of this life (Prov. 4:23; Lk. 21:34).
• that we would crave God’s Word constantly and have our minds opened to understand it (1 Pet. 2:2; Lk. 24:45).
• that we would consider Jesus, who endured great opposition from the sinful, so we won’t grow weary and lose heart (Heb. 12:3).
• that we would love our enemies, do good to those who hate us, bless those who curse us and pray forgiveness and blessings for those who mistreat us (Lk. 6:27,28).
• that You would deliver us from the evil one and incline our hearts toward Your statutes (Psa. 119:36; Mt. 6:13).
• that You would open up doors for the gospel message and that it would be proclaimed clearly (Col. 4:3,4).
• that You would grant us wisdom, health and deliverance from trouble (2 Chron. 1:10; 3 Jn. 2; Jam. 5:13).
• that we may glorify always the name of the Lord Jesus (2 Thes. 1:12).
• that they eyes of our hearts may be enlightened in order that we may know the hope to which he has called us, the riches of Your glorious inheritance in the saints and Your incomparably great power for us who believe (Eph. 1:18,19).
• that we would be filled with the knowledge of Your will through all spiritual wisdom and understanding (Col. 1:9).
• that we would not fear those who kill our bodies, but instead You who can throw our souls and bodies into Hell (Mt. 10:28).
• that we would never forsake our first love (Rev. 2:4).
• that we’d be faithful until death so that Jesus will give us the crown of life (Rev. 2:10).
• that You would give us the Spirit of wisdom and revelation, so that we would know Him better (Eph. 1:17).
• that we’d be rooted and established in love (Eph. 3:17).
• that You would strengthen our inner being (Eph. 3:16).
• that You would teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom (Psa. 90:12).
• that You will give us an undivided heart, that we may fear Your name (Ps. 86:11).
• that we’d never be lacking in zeal, but that we’d keep our spiritual fervor serving the Lord (Rom. 12:11).
• that we’d run the race to win first prize (1 Cor. 9:24).
• that we’d throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles and run our race with perseverance (Heb. 12:1).
• that we’d never look back now that we’ve put our hands to the plow (Lk. 9:62).

Our Father which art in heaven, Hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done in earth, as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread. And forgive us our debts, as we forgive our debtors. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil: For thine is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, for ever. Amen.

~Matthew 6:9-13

We brought home our first official farm implement this week. I hope this means we’re getting this farm because we don’t have room to store it in our garage among the 14 bicycles. It’s an open bed trailer.

Now, we could’ve used a trailer, like say, ten years ago when my husband began plunking down huge amounts of cash at our local Home Depot. Don’t think I’m sounding sarcastic or anything, because really, I love it that my husband’s hobby totally benefits our family—unlike baseball card collecting or other stuff I just don’t understand. He builds furniture, fixes stuff, and remodels 80’s looking faux wood paneling. He can build anything—even rockets. I’m so in love.

We’re riding in style now. You’d think so too if it was you who had to ride on bags of compost flanked by PVC piping all these years. Now it all goes in the trailer.

We’ve used it three times already in the first week we’ve had it. The real purpose in buying it, though, is to bring a large load with us when we drive up to close on our farm. Renting a trailer wasn’t economical; this way, two trips up and it pays for itself.

In the future, we can haul animals, mulch, wood, dirt, and all kinds of stuff. It’s also a huge playpen for the toddlers when you’re outside. I imagine a trailer is a handy farm tool, and so it made a lot of sense to buy one. Just think what I was missing all these years…

I’m adding a category titled, “The Move”, to my archiving system. It’s not that I think the subject is entirely exciting to most, just that the purpose of my writing here doesn’t have to do much with changing the world or being reader-driven. These are still notes to our family and friends (no matter how far I stray from the stated purpose sometimes)—a way to stay in touch, talk about what we’re thinking, and share links and ideas.

As an aside…I remember when I started blogging, I thought it was really weird that strangers began reading this site. Whatever for? And why would I read some other miscellaneous person’s site either? I wasn’t so bored that I needed to fill my time. I have too many children to be bored. But now, I see how naïve I was, as many of these former strangers are now friends: the kind you eat dinner with; share stories, books, and conversations with; and learn with.

We’ve met dozens of people we’d never known before, and a handful have become the kind with whom you stay in touch. It’s neat.

So, I hope to catalog a journey that has a happy ending. There are so many steps that led up to this big leap, but I don’t have the time or inclination to recategorize those posts. I think they’re mostly under “Living Simple.”

Packing…oh boy. We’re packing up our house after six enjoyable years on the Florida coast. We anticipate our move occurring little by little over the next few months, with a final, big move in the early spring.

Anyone who has packed up a “lived-in” house is familiar with the concept of sunk costs. Sunk costs* are expenses that have already been incurred and cannot be recovered in any manner that makes it worthwhile. A gadget here, a doodad there, a thingamajig everywhere. What use is it now? But it’s painful to throw it away “because I spent good money on that thing!” The important thing to discern is how much use is it to me now?

Back before I had a half dozen children misplaced my brain, I was very organized. My closet was color-coded, and my CD’s were alphabetized. Now, I’m just glad that the door shuts. Since we all marry our opposite, though, I was doomed to marry a packrat. (There is a better term for that, I’m sure, but my thesaurus isn’t working well.) But he got me good last night. Actually, it happens quite often whenever I pitch something that hasn’t been used in seven years (even though the official rule is one year).

Magically, the very next day he finds a project where he can say, “Yep. I wouldn’t have to run to Home Depot and spend money if you hadn’t pitched [insert said piece of junk].” He’ll then emphasize the phrase “spend money” with flair, because he knows that’s my weak point.

But back to last night. He uncrumpled a print I bought years ago, which I’ve intended all these years to get matted and framed. It got lost in the depths of our pantry–somewhere behind the doggy biscuits and econo-size jar of pickles. He shook it out, but the dust and creases hung a little too tightly.

“I guess I can pitch this, right?” he began.

“But I LOVE that picture. It’s so pretty. It reminds me of the simplicity and order and beauty that I can’t seem to hear because of the Honey-Nut Cheerios crunching under my toes! If I can’t have that life, can’t I at least LOOK at it?! Besides (ahem), even though it was on sale, it still wasn’t cheap.”

“And?”

“We can’t just throw it away! I LOVE that picture. Do you hear me?!”

And so he tossed it amid my protesting and wailing.

Yes, I find it very easy to toss all the junk around the house (very late at night under secret disguise). But when it’s my junk? That’s another story entirely.

Bye-bye, my lovely quilt and wagon print. You’ll be missed.

*From Wikipedia: Economics proposes that a rational actor does not let sunk costs influence one’s decisions, because doing so would not be assessing a decision exclusively on its own merits. For example, when one pre-orders a non-refundable movie ticket, the price of the ticket becomes a sunk cost. Even if the ticket-buyer decides that he would rather not go to the movie, there is no way to get back the money he originally paid.