Just like Carmon, I’m an agrarian sympathizer. But unlike Carmon, my capitalistic thinking needs a little twitching (that would be, uh, tweaking) before I can join the club. Many of you probably don’t know that I have agrarian aspirations, but I see it more as a means to accomplish other things that I consider valuable rather than just a goal in itself. I know that my thinking will change and mature as I (hopefully) grow in my understanding of it. Be easy on the novice.

When I began this site, the purpose was to keep in touch with family and friends while we were disconnected briefly from our conservative brotherhood. Yep, we were in California. While I’ve enjoyed meeting lots of people and even beginning new real-life friendships because of being online, it still presents a difficulty in saying all that I want to say. I did not know that other people would be interested in stopping by this little corner on the web, as I had not ever read another blog before my own. (This is a true story.)

This means that now I must write with discretion and with reservation. People who know me in real life know that the way I talk online is magnified to the tenth power in real life. That is to say, perhaps my use of discretion online would be better put to use in real life. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to practice my apologies in like manner as Anne Shirley.

I do not mind switching courses, and as I’ve pondered my time online here, I consider it still an appropriate use of my energy, even though the initial purpose has changed. When my responsibilities are such that it requires that I spend less time thinking to and amusing myself, I will close the site and not look back. Or if I humorously fall on my face in an attempt to save the day and my husband doesn’t continue to say, “Blog that,” then I will likewise shut down the site. Or if there is a better way to glorify God in the time that it takes to type this (at about 40 wpm), then I will do that.

Now, before this turns into naval-gazing, I’d like to connect the first paragraph with what I set out to say. Both my husband and I have agrarian aspirations for a couple reasons. I’d like to explain our thinking process, as there are still real life family and friends who read this site. (Though they will not admit this publicly by making a comment, I hear that I haven’t yet mortified anyone.) Another reason I’d like to think aloud through this is because it is easier to see flaws in our own process and motivations by breaking it down into parts. I think this might be valuable to our children in the future, and the analysis is good for our own future forward movements in the direction.

I received good advice from Rick Saenz when I lamented, “But how?!” in response to his series on Simple Living. He replied something like, “Take little steps. Just keep taking them in that direction.” This is akin to Elisabeth Elliot’s famous advice to, “Just do the next thing.” In the coming weeks, I’d like to think through some of these steps aloud, but I won’t necessarily do it in order. I’ll file all the posts under Living Simple.

It seems like I have a lot of explaining to do. My email box is telling me that I should’ve included the whole wanna-be-agrarian speech in one post. But since naptime is only about an hour and a half (sometimes two hours, if you run them hard in the sun during the morning hours), I’m going to have to write in snippets. Either that or I’m open to an invite for a nice long dinner wherein I’ll tell you all about it.

It all started in my teenage years with my Amish fascination. I read every book I could about their culture, sewed authentic dresses using Amish patterns (no, I didn’t wear them), and arranged dried flowers on straw hats to give myself some ambiance while I planted and tended my puny suburban garden. Small steps, I kept telling myself.

At 17, I’d composed a letter to mail to “Any Amish Family” in Lancaster, Pennsylvania, but I never did mail my appeal to apprentice. The crème’ la (don’t know the word) was when my husband took me to Lancaster to visit his grandfather. It was the first time I’d seen farms, rolling pasture, and handmade quilts drying on the line. Incidently, the first Amish person I saw in Lancaster was in Burger King, but that’s just a side note.

Now, I mention this not because I still harbor romantic notions about a more simple life, but just to say where I came from (suburbia) and to confess that my initial pinings were misguided and ill-informed. But I was a teenager, and that explains everything.

Just as another side note (because this weblog is a journal for my kids), my husband took a picture of an Amish teenager on another trip to Lancaster. He was working in a corn field, and the sky was bright blue behind the boy. Greg stopped and asked him (knowing that it is against their religion to take pictures of themselves), and not only did he concede, but he asked Greg to mail him a copy. (Teenagers!) Greg did, and they corresponded regularly after that.

About a year later, we returned to Lancaster to visit his grandfather again, and we stopped by the family’s house (of the boy we took the picture of). After us awkwardly waiting while they privately conferred among themselves, they invited us for a tour of their farm and for a ride down the lane in their buggy. This was the first farm I’d seen up close anywhere other than the movies, and I remember that it stunk to my uncultured nose.

More later when I get a chance. And just for contrast, this is the rocket my husband will help launch tomorrow.

There are many good books I’ve read over the years, but the way I define a truly great book is one that causes you to change something in your behavior. In other words, a great book, in my opinion, influences a person into action, and knowledge isn’t gained for the sake of triumph in Trivial Pursuit. I’m sure that there are other criteria that make a book great, but I’m partial to action. My personality demands it.

One of my favorite books is The Complete Tightwad Gazette by Amy Dacyczyn. This book has had a profound influence on my thinking over the years. I read the book early on in our marriage when my husband was a youth pastor, and we were living (well, I might add) on a small church youth pastor’s salary. During this time, we married and added two children to our family. I won’t post our salary here, but I will say that, according to the government, we were below poverty level and should’ve turned to them for aid.

I can’t write further without acknowledging the providence of God. Our shoes did not wear out, our appliances did not break, and our cars were in good repair. Like so many other things, we labor but God is the one who gives the increase. Now, the shoes in our house get outgrown before they wear out, the dishwasher still doesn’t work, and people make fun our cars. But we have the funds to repair and replace our things, and so, we see this as the providence of God too. And if we didn’t, we’d see this as Providence as well.

In the articles contained within The Tightwad, I found in them a voice that put into words what I’d thought in the back of my mind for a long time. In one article, Dacyczyn mentions briefly that she’d rather spend the weekend painting her barn than sunning on the beach, and I found myself identifying with her sentiment. There is something satisfying about working toward a tangible goal that produces something profitable. The reward of relaxation is not such a climax after wasting the day in frivolity. In contrast, lying down after a productive day of labor is sweet.

Agrarian or not, simple or not, we can all use our “talents” to make more “talents.” If you need ideas on how to do that, Dacyczyn’s book is a good start. You will be encouraged to think outside the box– if you can focus on her articles and refrain from getting caught up in all the small reader tips. They are just ideas to get you thinking.

Before this book, it had never occurred to me that you can make your own Rice-a-Roni and Windex for a quarter of the price. I thought everyone just buys that stuff at Wal-Mart. Or Target if you have a little extra dough.

I mention this book to say that the wheels have always been moving in this direction, to recommend it to young mothers trying to live on a budget, and to give background on where we’ve been before I tell about where we want to go.

In the next post, I’ll answer Holly’s question, “How and why does someone strive to increase their land holdings and wealth, while at the same time seek the simple, agrarian life?”

I want to take a minute to add a “P.S.” to the last post about thriftiness. While I extol thrift as a virtue and while industry is a prominent characteristic of Mrs. P 31, there must be a P.S. after the mention of it. Industriousness is not the ultimate virtue; loving God is the supreme thing.

Oftentimes, I find myself extolling or analyzing some idea, virtue, or method. It’s a pasttime I need to curtail. Sometimes I’m correct in my assessment, but more often than not, I need to rethink my thinking. While I admire thrift and those who practice it, it must be said that I also adore, admire, and seek the friendship of those who don’t think it’s worthwhile. There are seasons in life wherein we will do better with this particular virtue—thrift—than others.

I’d also like to mention that I’m not The Thrift Police and will not retrieve clean containers from your garbage if I’m at your house.

I remember having three babies aged three and under. (In the latest issue of Above Rubies, a mother of 11 mentions that it was much harder with three under four years old than it is with her current 11 children.) After our third child was born, I sold my cloth diapers on Ebay and hit the store for disposables. And I picked up my first frozen dinner while I was at it.

The moral of the story, I think, is that we should do all we can with what we have in each season in life, and then give thanks for it. Loving God with your whole heart will bring you freedom in your mothering; it is the main thing. Don’t get bogged down if you haven’t learned to make your own biscuits yet. You should try, but you should also embrace the season you’re in.

A couple entries ago, the question came up, “How and why does someone strive to increase their land holdings and wealth, while at the same time seek the simple, agrarian life?” Holly further elaborates,

I had just read Richard Foster’s Celebration of Discipline, the chapter on simplicity. Don’t know if you have ever read that, or not…but he pretty much presents it as “wrong” for a Christian to garner any wealth. Having given it thought, I don’t agree with him. I think a gluttony of wealth used on selfish pursuits is improper, but I am also well aware that a Christian who has been blessed (and used good stewardship principles) with wealth can do much good. So, that is the background upon which I read your blog entry, and I was just curious as to how this all practically plays out in the real world, not the theoretical world. Plus…most people don’t go agrarian and buy rentals at the same time. You’re a paradox.

I don’t know if I’ll answer this rightly. I think a real agrarian (such as yourself) might be able to answer the question better. It is possible that there are flaws in our thinking, but thinking through these things is part of the process. If you told me last year that we’d be saving for a farm, I’d have probably believed you. What has changed in the course of a year is why we are thinking in that direction. But that is another post.

If you haven’t seen the movie, City Slickers, then I don’t know how else to explain it. When I began my first major gardening project two years ago, I had grand expectations. It was only about 800 square feet, but that’s also the size of our apartment we lived in for six months in California last year. (But we won’t go over that again.) Also, 800 square feet is pretty impressive out here in the suburbs. I checked out every gardening book in the library, digested every article on organic methods, and set out my seed order extra early.

This was before I figured out that I lived in Florida.

Florida gardening is an entirely different section in the library, and the general gardening category is 100% useless to those trying to make anything grow in zone 9. Furthermore, organic methods only work when you’re trying to grow things in organic dirt. We only have sand in Florida. But I was pretty smart about getting my seed order in early.

The plants (which I grew in a makeshift greenhouse) were ready for the ground February 1st. I know pretty much all of you still have snow on the ground at that time, but there’s got to be something positive about living in Florida. After two months, I got a respectable crop of yellow squash and tomatoes, but everything else cost me more in materials than it yielded.

Then we did the thing that we could never undo: We put fresh lawn clipping down on the plants as mulch. No matter how many bales of hay, gallons of weed killer, and rolls of black plastic we put down in the past two years, the weeds are not budging. To feel our pain more acutely, you have to know the hundreds of hours spent preparing this garden: a dump truck load of dirt delivered that took my husband many late nights of shoveling and moving, a top notch irrigation system installed while my husband worked by floodlight, and an aesthetic border of several hundred feet of wood trim.

You know that scene where Billy Crystal is being dragged by a cow and he yells, “I’M ON VACATION!!!!!!”? That’s me, every day. My husband doesn’t even care that much about gardens. He’ll eat Publix produce. But…he loves me and my schemes.

That was kind of a long story to say that we have a lot to learn. Even people who know what they’re doing have a hard time making a living at farming endeavors due to government intrusion and regulations, et al. We don’t have visions of living off the land completely, selling to the community on a large scale. I will be happy when I can grow just enough to feed my own family, with a little extra for neighbors and for any nice contractors who actually show up.

So, why the rentals? Because it’s a Biblical concept to turn five talents into five more talents for the glory of God. I could spend my five talents on depreciating assets or I could invest it to make more disposable income. It is the love of money—not money—that is the root of evil. Additionally, it is good to note that wealth was a means of God’s blessing to many great heros in the Old Testament and is sometimes true today. Children are also a means of His blessing, but that’s a post for another day as well. (I will say that we’re wealthy in that respect.)

In your email, you said that “a gluttony of wealth used on selfish pursuits” is wrong, but I’d like to take it a step further and say that a dime used on selfish pursuits is improper as well. “Whatsoever ye eat or drink, do all to the glory of God.” It all belongs to Him, not just the increase and not just 10%. It is all entirely His: my money, my children, myself.

Living among the richest nations in the history of the world for all time, I’d be negligent if I didn’t mention that Americans (and Canadians) are materially and richly blessed.

In short, my sympathy for all things agrarian is not a rejection of the modern devices that money affords, but using and investing money wisely is the only practical way a first generation family will ever afford some descent land. For the glory of God and if He wills.

Baby Energizer got shoes yesterday. They are big red clunkers. My husband said that they were the only ones in the store that would fit. Well, at least he found a store that had one pair, as I’ve struck out at all the other stores. Her feet are just too wide for even the wide-widths.

So, it was 9:30 at night, and we were all hootin’ and hollerin’ at Baby Energizer as she tried to walk in her new shoes. They were strange on her feet, and she had trouble getting the pattern just right for walking. When she managed a few steps, we all cheered like a Super Bowl crowd. I think the neighbors wonder about us. But what I wonder is, what is there on TV that is possibly more entertaining than a house full of kids?

A couple weeks ago, I mentioned a new category of “Living Simple” that I wanted to write a few posts about. Since then, I’ve written a few things in that category, but the main reason I started it was for this post. I’ve put off writing this one. While I already know that we’re on the fringe of conservatism, I don’t always enjoy hearing everyone tell me so. This post will serve to certify and seal any extreme beliefs you might hold about my notions.

While we have a comfortable house here in suburbia, USA and thank God for our circumstances, nevertheless, we are pursuing a larger land purchase unless the Lord decides otherwise. It may work out; it may not. Many people have done this sort of thing—left city life for the country—but perhaps not everyone has the same core reason that we have for pursuing this course.

Many small factors make a move to the country appealing to us. Our kids eat fruit by the pound. Oranges are the only fruit that doesn’t require “chilling hours” –unless your kids will eat lemons and limes– so we’d like to have a mini orchard of fruit and berries, which is impossible in Florida. If you were paying our grocery bill, this thought might appeal to you too. If you were paying the milk bill too, a goat or cow might even cross your mind as well.

Because we are comfortable suburbanites, we have a concrete backyard pool and a manufactured swing set. While this is not a bad thing, I’d like to replace the chlorine water and plastic slides with a good old-fashioned creek, tire swing, and tree house. Why? The thought of not paying five grand to remarsite my creek and two Saturdays fixing the wood rot on the play set appeals to me. When a tree branch rots, you throw the tire swing rope onto another branch.

I do not have notions of life being easier. In fact, I know that it will be more work, but it is work that is more rewarding to me than carpools, traffic jams, play date schedules, and cleaning the leaves out of the pool filter.

I’m privileged to have the only house on my street with a front porch, and while not a requirement, it’d be nice not to be the only one sitting on the front porch within miles.

For as long as I can remember, I’ve had to take an antihistamine before bed every night if I want to function the following day. When we lived in California for six months, I did not take one pill. It was wonderful. But you do not have to worry about me moving to California. My pocketbook can’t handle it. Neither can my politics. But the fact remains, my nose needs different air.

These are all little reasons that when added up might result in a big reason. But this is not the big reason for us. The reason we desire country life is for the future of our children. We want land because we can afford it at today’s prices after selling our house (in some places, it is $2,000/acre), and we might not be able to afford it later. We want land because we want to give our children a good start in their adult lives and, well, there might be a little in it for us too.

Financial reasons
If the Lord chooses to lead in this way, our children will have the opportunity to begin their marriages with land and shelter debt-free. It is our goal to have our son begin building a home with his dad when he is a teenager. The house would be simple and well designed so that he can add on should a wife and children arrive and as more funds allow. A very open kitchen, dining, living room combination would be appropriate bachelor quarters until the time came to add on.

If you are willing to think outside the box, there are many options for affordable housing that does not resemble paying $75-200/square foot.

I have no doubt that my first daughter would be able to build a house single handedly, but as the Lord leads, perhaps the house building venture would be a good way to test out potential suitors as her father and brother work alongside love-struck boys. No boy who has yet to become a man will be able to handle my first daughter, and house building might be a good way to separate the men from the boys.

When a family is sharing resources, only one tractor is needed instead of five. There is no need to purchase more than one paint sprayer. Only one fence is needed for the property, and there would be many hands to fix a few broken lines. There are also many eyes watching out for you—not like the neighbor who won’t get the newspaper out of your driveway to deter robbers. And so on.

Many Amish, Jewish, and other ethnic groups have practiced this kind of community for centuries and have prospered. I am not thinking up something new and weird, but we are just considering a return to the old ways. It just makes more sense. It is a modern notion to scatter.

Vocational reasons
Without the burden of debt and mortgages, my children would be able to choose a vocation more freely. This applies mostly to my sons, but my daughters’ husbands will also benefit greatly from this. Pastoring small churches, farming, and writing are all vocations that might be otherwise unattainable with the burden of providing for a mortgage. Short- and long-term mission trips are also now easier with the ability to self-fund and not have “stuff” to worry about. The possibilities are endless: from temporarily renting out houses to help pay my son’s medical school bill to having the freedom to tell a corrupt boss that you can just find another job to having a larger cushion to start your own business.

It’s about being even more available to follow God in the way that He leads without the burden of debt. Why continue the American lifestyle just because Sprite wants me to obey my thirst?

Practical reasons
Now, here is where my heart is. I want my daughters and daughter-in-laws close to me so that they will have someone to help them with their first babies, to give them relief when a child has the flu and has been up all night, to tell them which kind of cough doesn’t require a trip to the doctor, to fix the crooked quilt they spent all year on, to give piano lessons to the grandkids, to tell them to get home and make dinner and stop complaining, to tell them to not be short with their boys’ ruckuses, and to love their husbands by never speaking ill of them.

Yes, it’s possible to do some of this from afar, but it is the daily things that make up daily life. Life is a bunch of daily moments, and the ordinary is what life is. It isn’t Thanksgiving and Christmas. And if I have the opportunity to be a part of the small moments, it will be a big moment for me.

I hope to prepare my daughters well before their marriages, but there are some things that are just learned in the dailyness of life. This is going to sound like a criticism, and it is: I can’t rely the modern church to take my daughters under their wing and disciple them in the manner of Titus 2. So with forethought, I am preparing to undertake the task myself for my daughters and for any others the Lord sends my way.

The original Cheaper By the Dozen is not a black and white movie or a PG-13 comedy starring Steve Martin, but it is a decades old book written by a man with a dozen children. I read the book a couple years ago (though the questionable content and bad language precludes me from recommending it to you or reading it aloud to my own children). The father was an efficiency expert by trade, studying movements and motions of company workers and making recommendations on how to increase the output by reducing the number of motions required to perform a task. I never heard of such a thing before. Nevertheless, the father employed the same method in his home and gave each child a reward whenever the child came up with a better method to perform a chore.

Efficiency is a subject that sometimes keeps me awake at night and occupies my thoughts, but never more especially than while I am caught waiting somewhere. With a houseful of little children and at least one more on the way, wasting time is not a pastime I should engage myself in too often. And so, while I am chopping garlic for dinner, folding clothes, or sitting at the piano, I will often ask myself, “Is there a better way to be doing this?”

Now, “better” is a relative term sometimes, and so I want to back up and say that I am looking for ways to increase my efficiency without compromising those things in which efficiency really has no place. For example, it would be more economically efficient to place my children in daycare (the younger ones in a local preschool and the older ones in a free public school) so that I could spend my days bringing home a respectable paycheck. But it would not be spiritually efficient. Likewise, it would be more economically efficient to just stop having children since we’ve finally figured out what causes it, but we believe that the monetary, physical, and emotional demands related to raising children do not compare to the reward of seeing faithful children serve Christ and His kingdom.

What I mean by efficiency is described with a basic definition of “the ratio of the effective or useful output to the total input in any system.” In other words, is there a better way? Living in a modern culture, we are programmed to believe that something is superior if it is faster, cheaper, and can be contained in a smaller package. But forty years of desert wondering tells us moderns that God has a bigger purpose than just getting us to Glory before our social security runs out. Indeed, God is efficient—because He never wastes—and we must keep in mind that His ways are better, especially if He should ask us to build an ark when it is not even raining.

And so, while I put the hammer to the nail, I co-labor with my five-year-old daughter, not because it is immediately efficient, but because in the end, it is the most efficient. I lose time and money on the onset; my daughter slows me down and she overuses materials. But it is the most efficient because she gains character, a good work ethic, time tying strings with her mother, and skills that she will need when she becomes a godly mother as well.

That was a long introduction just to say that I’ve been thinking about turning on my deep freezer again. A baby is on the way, and beginning in December, I will spend a lot of time on the couch complaining about how my back hurts. Being 5’2 and carrying 8 and ½ pound babies just makes me tired thinking about it. It is so much easier to ask my husband to stop by the Chinese take-out on his way home four times a week, than it is to use a little forethought and planning. And in this case, I think it is wise to be more economically efficient.

I remember when “Once a Month Cooking” was the latest craze, but I never really took to that model. Instead, I use a different method that seems to work well in our house. Whenever I make a casserole, a tray of stuffed shells, or other entrée, I make at least a double portion at the minimum. One portion is for the evening’s meal; the other portion is for the following night. We usually have the same main dish two nights in a row, but my husband doesn’t mind this as he thinks I cook pretty well. Whenever I have the foresight to triple it, I’ll freeze one of the portions. Now, however, it is time for me to step it up a notch and begin quadrupling recipes.

The reason why this is more efficient is because you can brown four pounds of meat in the same pan that you brown one pound. You are only washing one pan one time instead of one pan four times. And so on. This is just more physically efficient. When I get the pepper out of the cabinet to spice up a recipe, I can pour four teaspoons in the same amount of time that I can pour one. And I only have to retrieve the pepper out of the cabinet once.

This method will not only save you time, but it will also save you trips to the doctor. It is better for your health, because inevitably, your casserole is nutritionally superior than take-out food or boxed foods. You can not order brown rice from a menu. And when “one of those days” comes around, it is easier to pull dinner out of the freezer than put in a call to your husband on his way home.

This is the same method that I use to do the laundry. I only put away clothes once a week, because it is the same effort to put away two dishtowels as it is to put away a stack of ten dishtowels. However, less steps are required to put away ten dishtowels once every seven days than to put away two dishtowels every other day.

And so long as there are no moral restrictions (e.g. your kids are not left without clothes because you only wash once a week), than taking a minute to ponder the efficiency of your methods is time well spent.

I wasn’t supposed to find it, but I stumbled upon my generous Christmas present last week. Both the UPS and Fed Ex men come regularly to our house, delivering packages of work-related materials for my husband. So imagine my surprise when a three-foot-tall box was delivered to our doorstep instead of the usual business-sized envelopes overstuffed with documents.

I figured my husband must have purchased a new tool, which he did– except that the tool was for me and not for the garage. When the kids and I opened the box and heaved out a new embroidery machine, I wasn’t sure whether to be excited or ashamed that I’d been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. We’d been talking our whole marriage long about purchasing one, ways I could make it pay for itself, and the pros and cons of the cost versus the usefulness of the machine. We’d just never settled on it. Until last week, that is.

And so, I find myself engaging in one of the tasks that I shirk a lot: learning a new thing. In theory, I enjoy learning a new area of interest. However, I find that the method used in learning the new thing has much to do with the amount of enjoyment I get out of the process. In other words, I prefer a hands-on approach to a textbook learning approach. If I could just have someone show me what all the buttons do, it would save a lot of headache as I stumble and fumble my way through books and trial and error. I suspect many people feel this way about learning new things as well.

Having to attend the school of trial-and-error (or “hard knocks”, if you will) is not the way I prefer to learn new things. However, unless I can establish an apprentice type relationship—which is always preferable but not always feasible—this method of reading, trying, rereading, and trying again is often the way my husband and I have learned many things.

For example, when my husband decided to build a four-poster, king-size, solid cherry bed as my wedding present, I thought he was insane to undertake the task with only an eighth-grade woodshop class under his belt. But he found someone more knowledgeable to guide him during the first year and had learned a great deal when it was done three years later. (The joints are all hand-chistled, as he didn’t own power tools back then–hence, the three years.) For the most part, however, he learned by reading, watching The New Yankee Workshop, and measuring once, cutting twice. (!) Several years and power tools later, he is a decent carpenter. Not one room in the house is without a piece of his handcrafted furniture or remodeling work.

A few years ago, I went to a furniture store and stumbled upon a bunk bed set that I admired. My husband baulked at the price tag, went back with his graph paper and measuring tape, and turned out an exact replica two Saturdays later. The same thing happened with an armoire set last year.

While I am excited about learning to use my new machine, I know that I have many hours of learning to put in before I can use it properly. But I also know that perseverance and a little common sense will get me up and running decently, if not respectably. In the meantime, I will keep my ear to the ground for a woman with more experience than I have. I know this type of learning can be done, because I’ve seen a good example of it right in my own home.

It is getting late on Saturday evening, and I have so much to tell about these past several days. Next week, I hope to share pictures and stories, but for right now, rest is calling to me after a fruitful and productive day. (Among the hopefully fruitful, I found strawberry plants!) No, there weren’t any trips to the fair, excursions to the mall, or exciting vacation stories to relate, but rather, just some good days getting needed work done while enjoying the things the children said along the way, the goodness of God in the details, and the satisfaction of producing something worthwhile.

Living simply in an industrialized society takes deliberate thought. As an adult, I know that food isn’t produced in a grocery store or in a local drive-thru. However, my children are another matter. While they know in theory that food comes from farmers, the manner in which we attain our food (with a plastic card in an air-conditioned chain store) can leave a disconnect in their young minds. While one might argue that they will make the connection as they get a little older, I would counter that sitting down to a pot roast after playing video games all day would undo any sophisticated economic lesson.

In our society, we exchange our labor (most often, this is mental labor, not physical) for money and our money for food. When you further add in barriers such as taxes, banks, credit lines, and commuting, the disconnect between work and food is even greater. Furthermore, the case has been made elsewhere that the greater the space between the consumer and his food, the lesser the concern for quality—hence, the acceptable use of pesticides, excessive processing, and mishandling.

While my suburban landscape is humble, the garden accomplishes an important task: it reminds our family of what we need for life– God, food, and shelter. When your life is spent keeping up with the Jones’, trying on designer clothes, and taking personal-peace-and-affluence classes at the local night college, it is painful to return to the basics. Broken homes and marriages often result. Financial pressure is more often a lack of contentness and/or mismanagement of current funds than a lack of funds in itself.

Why is it important that children make the connection between food and work? Because I want my children to accomplish all that God has called them to do in this life, and they can’t do that chasing peripherals. If they invest in depreciating activities and assets, they will spend their lives in the hamster wheel of life: striving to get ahead, not knowing how to get off, and not even realizing that they should.

I’m not advocating poverty; on the contrary, wealth and abundance are eventual signs of simple living. (I will defend that statement in another post.) Should you enjoy your wealth? Yes… after your work is done. If my son ever found himself down to his last dollar, I hope he’d buy a package of cabbage seeds and not a bus ticket to the welfare line. Eating is the reward of work, and the backyard garden reminds us well of this truth.

Planting bed for the strawberries.

Change is usually difficult, but planning and executing small steps improves the likelihood of a good outcome. I mentioned some of our family goals before, and after revisiting them in numerous conversations since, I realize well that the task is large. Large, but not insurmountable. Planning small– yet forward moving– steps and then taking them is a large element of whether or not we will realize our goals.

So often it is easier to do nothing and get nothing, than it is to do something small and wait for the return. It is a practice in delayed gratification that our culture shuns and does nothing to encourage: “Obey your thirst,” “Just do it,” and “Have it your way.” But since we are followers of Christ, the concept is a familiar one, as the Christian life is all about our future hope. We believe now, hope now, work now, because one day we will be with Him. (Matthew 6:19-21; John 14:3)

One current example of a way we’ve implemented change by taking small steps is at the dining room table. I haven’t mentioned anything here, because I didn’t want to own it if I failed in implementing the change. The change I’m referring to is a little healthier cuisine being served at the table. Sure, I tried to sneak it in (never mentioning my secret campaign) and prayed their taste buds would take a permanent vacation. The first time I served brown rice my husband accused me of attempted murder. But now I mix brown rice with long grain (slowly increasing healthier proportions each time), and the family hasn’t noticed much. They hold their tongues in mature gratefulness. Or they’re choking—I’m not sure.

The point is that the change—while slow and still in progress—has been successful over several months because of deliberate planning, its small scale, and my taking action without waiting for everything to be “certified organic.” It’s a journey we’ll continue in the kitchen, and if the Lord wills, with our whole house.

And speaking of small steppers, my 17-month-old is getting
around quite well now. She’s a joy.

I am flying around the house making preparations for a large group of people to arrive tonight for dinner. If I were trying to be accurate, I’d call it a “party,” but I don’t want to put too much pressure on myself, so I prefer to say that “people are dropping by.” Apparently my ER story didn’t garner too much sympathy. (I’m fine, by the way.)

My husband is out securing firewood for tonight. You can’t have a party gathering without ambiance. It’s in the low 70’s today, and I’ve been hoping all day that the temperature will drop further so we can turn the lights down low and enjoy a fire. With the lights lowered, the scuff marks on the walls don’t show as well.

There are three reasons that people live in Florida: November, December, and February. Sure, we pay for it in the summer, but it’s pretty nice right now. So, I caught myself grumbling, “Why can’t we have a little fire…come on, Mr. Cold Front….,” and then I thought of all my northern friends who were wishing for a break in the snow fall.

There is a certain breed of person that we all have in our lives that won’t be happy no matter the circumstance. Can you think of a person like that? You know what I mean—they’re never happy. So, I caught myself today and prayed that I could say with Paul in Philippians, I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. (4:12)

A fire is such a small thing, a trivial matter. But it is the practice of godliness in daily life that prepares us for the sure trial to come.

As I scramble around the house, I offer up my moments to Him and ask God to renew my mind, to help my attitude be content whatever the lot. After all, I don’t want it to be my name that comes to your mind.

I spent the morning reorganizing the kids’ work folders as they finished school. In the process of organizing, purging, and musing over old journal entries, I was able to throw away a whole garbage bag of old schoolwork, used workbooks, and magazines/catalogs that I’ll never read. It felt so good, so freeing. (Yes, it looks like I’m having a baby, alright.) One bag down, ninety-seven to go.

A part of me desires order, serenity, and all my ducks-in-a-row. I also want my flowers to ever-bloom, without the hassle and interruption of winter. Living in Florida, I have that luxury, but I know that this is not the natural order of things. There is a time for spring and a time for winter. There is a time for order and a time to let go.

Often older women will tell young mothers: Let the housework go as your children will only be babies for a short time. I admire the sentiment and hindsight in which this statement is often made, yet I struggle with one thing.

The one thing, of course, is that if the preschooler’s Play-doh crumbs are left unattended, soon the baby crawls over to play in it. The baby keeps a few in her fist, and then moves on to the living room carpet, wherein she proceeds to smash it in. Then, the five-year-old races through on some contraption and runs up the stairs and so on. Then, you crawl in bed after a long day and wonder, How come my clean sheets are sticky and have blue smudges all over them?

Then if you try to track down the line of origin, the perpetrator is always The Kid Who Can’t Talk Yet. Or if the baby was sleeping at the time of the incident, the executor is always named, “Not Me.” I know about this stuff.

Claire Cloninger wonders in her book, A Place Called Simplicity, what we really mean when we say that we want more time:

Do we really want more clock time—more boring hours that never seem to pass, more frantic minutes to spend rushing around and racing against our deadlines? Or are we really hungering for more meaning-filled God time—more of the deep, sweet contentment that fills us when we are able to rest for a moment in the “timeless present”?

One of the ways I’ve resolved to live more simply is to purge my life of clutter– symbolic and literal. This morning’s trip to the trash is just a small picture, a tiny echo of what we do everyday when we pass over the world’s definition of what it will take for our family to be fulfilled: amusement parks, perpetual age-segregated activities, X-boxes, and a Disney video for the trip to the grocery store because—after all—they can’t expect to just sit there in the car for the fifteen minute drive.

I desire more meaning-filled time, not mindless rushing. Children—even lots of children—are not obstacles to living a meaningful, simple life. What is required with a full and bustling household, however, is that we are purposeful with the things we allow in and the things we purge.

Children are just cheap pieces in a society that wants them only as cogs in its dark culture[;] [F]uture consumers [--] the more distraught the family life, the better consumers they are. ~Northern Farmer

After reflecting on that tidbit from Northern Farmer, I finally placed a hold on a copy of Crunchy Cons. Per the internet buzz, Crunchy Cons is the book written by Rod Dreher, a Birkenstock wearing, countercultural conservative. The interview with the author is well worth a read. You’ll agree and you’ll disagree, but you’ll be glad you took the time to read it. (Click over, but don’t forget to come back.)

In the interview, he relates a conversation with a family who critiques the typical Ameri-Christian lifestyle, one in which faith and practice are compartmentalized. I’ve thought as much for years, but if you mention it aloud, the “Jesus-Is-Your-Buddy folks” will pull out the trump card. The ace of spades, of course, is, “Judge not…” Since I live in a glass (chicken) house, however, I’ll duck and allow Rod Dreher to toss a stone:

I interviewed a woman for the book who lived with her family in Midland, Texas. She and her husband were Presbyterians, and they were church planters there, and they had eight kids, and they were home schooling, and they ate a lot of natural food, and no TV, the whole magilla, and you know she told me, “It’s the weirdest thing, we’re living in the most Christian, most Republican place we’ve ever lived, and we look around and we can’t see how people’s faith affects the way they live their lives at all. They’re all captives to the consumer culture. They’re all buying their kids the most expensive new things. She said that’s not how Christians are supposed to live; that’s not how conservatives are supposed to live. They’ve sold out to the values of the world, and think that as long as they profess to hold the beliefs of the Christian faith, that that’s enough. (emphasis mine)

What does rejecting modern consumerism have to do with living Biblically? Just this: it is impossible to live a Biblical life while being “captives to the consumer culture.” It’s that easy– once you consider that Christians are called to be slaves to only one Master. It’s about being thoughtful, aware, and deliberate about our decisions. It’s about thinking through the consequences of our everyday choices. It’s about choosing how to live life, instead of just allowing “them” to tell you how to do it or just doing it because that is what we do. It is about fulfilling your purpose to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever.

If you decide to turn on the TV, at least let it be because it is a thoughtful choice–not just an automatic ritual, the habitual flick of the wrist every evening. If you’re really feeling adventurous, ask and answer the question, Hey, wait a second… why do I have a TV, anyway? (Yes, we have one.)

Of course, the problem isn’t that we disagree that consumerism has run amuck, but that we’re so entrapped that we don’t even realize we’re slaves. In spite of this trend, however, there is a growing movement of Christians who are merging their Sunday faith with the rest of the week. They’re unplugging, literally and figuratively. The blinking lights of many modern gadgets might arguably be neutral in nature, but to the degree in which we are captive to their rule, our own lights will only continue to be overshadowed.

Some people have mistakenly thought that, well, this Crunchy Con stuff, you’re telling people they’re not as good if they don’t eat organic, or if they don’t live in the right kind of house, or wear the right kind of clothes, and I tell them, boy, you have the wrong idea. Like I said, my wife and I shop at Wal-Mart when we need to; this is not an ideology. This is about living out the call to holiness in every possible way. We do the best we can to put God and our family first, and in the book I’ve identified some ways I think of doing that, from a conservative point of view, but these are means, not ends in themselves. ~Rod Dreher