Courage is not the absence of fear, but doing what needs to be done even if we are afraid. This past summer my sister, a friend, and I all faced one of our fears.
Now fears are different for everyone. I laugh at my sister's fear. Not because I am a mean person, although that point could be argued, but because what she is so afraid of is so much fun for me. On the flip side, she also would laugh at my fear -- along with the majority of adults in the world.
My sister is afraid to pull a bike trailer with her bike. I love to do this. I love to go bike riding with my family. Having two children that don't know how to ride, makes the trailer a valuable asset. It doesn't scare me a bit. I do prefer my husband to pull it when he is there because I like to have an easier ride; but that has nothing to do with fear. This summer my sister conquered her fear. We hooked up the trailer. We got the kids' bikes ready. Put the little ones in the trailer and with her pulling we rode away. She did it! Good for her.
A friend of ours decided to drive to Chicago. Driving through and in big cities is a little intimidating for many people. She faced this fear, and drove. I remember when we drove across the country form Oregon to New York when I was a teenager. I had just received my license a few months before the trip. When we got to the Chicago area, my mom decided she had better drive. Years later, she lets us do the driving while she sits. My first experience driving downtown Chicago taught me that traffic lights and lanes really don't mean a whole lot. I can see why this could be intimidating.
But I am afraid of electricity. Now some people may have a reasonable fear of being electrocuted and reasonably not put knives into electrical outlets, or turn off the electricity when wiring. I, on the other hand, have an unreasonable fear of electricity. I do not use electric blankets and I had never hooked up the jumper cables to a dead battery on a vehicle.
My sister-in-law used to have an electric blanket and when I would visit I would stay away. I picture myself being wrapped up in a cocoon of blanket, zapped again and again. My body jerking violently to the shock of the blanket of electricity that I am being surrounded by. I still do not use electric blankets, but my chiropractor said it could mess with the electrons in my body, so now I have a good excuse. Although he also says my son might remember his math facts if he gets his head adjusted, and that people have been cured of the fear of dark spaces with a few taps to the skull -- so can I trust him?
But the battery? I have no excuse. I have been stranded in a parking lot with a dead battery and unable to hook up the cables. After someone who had parked there had volunteer their car, I had to go back inside the building and get help to hook up the cables. Paranoia. I have had my eight year old son jump the vehicle instead of me. He on the other hand is a little too fearless at times, but he does well. So this summer I decided to stop being controlled by electricity.
Thankfully we have had our share of battery problems, so I had opportunity to practice. I opened the hood fine. I got out the jumper cables. Then my boldness began to waver. I attached the cables to the dead battery first -- less electricity there. And then, the moment... would I triumph? Seriously it scared me to just squeeze, bend over and clamp. Simple, but I hesitated, and then... I did it! For the first time in my whole life I jump started a vehicle!
Do I like it? No. Do I want to do it again? Not really. Now did I conqueror it? I really don't think so, but my husband says doing what you are afraid of is conquering your fear. So, I have triumphed over electricity; I have triumphed over my fear.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Tuesday, August 31, 2010
Money Honey - Another Great Title from my Husband
I read an article in the newspaper entitled, "5 Crucial Tips for Raising Money-Smart Kids," by Jean Chatzky. I found the article very interesting because money interests me and teaching my kids about money interests me. I relate to her statement, "we don't want our kids to make the same mistakes we did."
I have been working since I was probably 10 or 11 and I can't help thinking how much money I wasted. My family moved from Canada shortly after I turned twelve and I remember in Canada having a savings account and my own debit card for my checking account. It must have been a joint account with my dad. I remember going into the bank with him and filling out paperwork. Money from my paper route was deposited automatically into my checking account. I had a lot of discretionary income for a young child and not much discretion. I remember wanting to buy a whole series of books, totaling around $300 if I remember correctly -- books I would have ended up throwing out if I still had them today. I did pay for my first year of college but most of that was saved in the year before college. What happened to the money I made my other teenage years?
Chatzky suggests giving children money to manage, perhaps with an allowance, to help them understand the real cost of items in the real world. She then gives them a list of the types of purchases that will be their responsibility. If you are going to give children your money, I definitely like the idea of giving them a list of the types of things you will not be buying for them anymore. Giving a child an allowance on a regular basis to spend on their own pleasures, I cannot see developing any type of responsibility. It seems that would teach children that money is easy to come by -- that it does not require hard work and sacrifice.
I remember when I was growing up my Grandpa was talking about how we need to relate the money we would spend on a new shirt or an evening out to the time we worked to earn it. If the shirt costs me $20, would I work 4 hours for it? Would it still be worth it?
Also, money that you give a child is not money that is earned. The family has not become wealthier, it has just reallocated its resources. Chatzky states that even her children agree that the money she gives them is a lot different than the money they earn. It holds more value. It is theirs. It is their labor and frustration and reward.
We have had many conversations about how our boys could make money. Their creativity is amazing. Recently my seven year old son set up a stand to sell drinks and snacks. He made $10, but me being the realist that I am, (some may call it dream-crushing) I explained to him how he didn't actually make anything because he had to pay Dad back for his supplies. I hope I didn't discourage his desire to try, but it doesn't seem that I did. Businesses are hard to start. Snacks and drinks may not be a bad idea, but what about location? He decided he should set up a stand at the end of his uncle's driveway and sell pop to his uncle, who drinks more pop than anyone else he knows. He may have just learned an important lesson about marketing.
Jean Chatzky advises parents to motivate their children to save. She has found a dollar-for-dollar match to be effective. Sometimes it is not possible to put aside money for our children, even if we would like too, but we can definitely teach them to save their own money responsibly. We tell our boys to separate any money they get into four even portions. Then they give away one pile. I let them decide where they would like to help. We talk about the needs around the world and in our town or our church. My two older boys have read through Randy Alcorn's, Treasure Principle, which is a book I highly recommend. I want them to learn to store up treasure in heaven, to invest in the things that matter to God.
One pile is theirs for spending. I tell them this pile is for any thing they would like to buy for themselves or as they get older, it could be for monthly living expenses.
The last two portions are for saving. I try to keep the future in front of them. For example, even though they are years away from having a license to drive, we talk about their older cousin who is about to drive. I encourage them to ask him if he plans to buy a vehicle and I tell them some day if they keep saving they will be able to buy their own vehicle. We talk about people they know who are in college and how they can go to college too with the savings they are working on now. We talk about buying computers and some day houses.
We do need to be wise with our money, but also realize that it is God who gives the power to get wealth. It's amazing how hard and long we can work on saving only to have something unexpected come up that uses all of what we have saved. Our money can never be our security.
I hope our children can learn without making the same mistakes we did. I also hope they will grow in faith that we serve a God who is bigger than our money.
I have been working since I was probably 10 or 11 and I can't help thinking how much money I wasted. My family moved from Canada shortly after I turned twelve and I remember in Canada having a savings account and my own debit card for my checking account. It must have been a joint account with my dad. I remember going into the bank with him and filling out paperwork. Money from my paper route was deposited automatically into my checking account. I had a lot of discretionary income for a young child and not much discretion. I remember wanting to buy a whole series of books, totaling around $300 if I remember correctly -- books I would have ended up throwing out if I still had them today. I did pay for my first year of college but most of that was saved in the year before college. What happened to the money I made my other teenage years?
Chatzky suggests giving children money to manage, perhaps with an allowance, to help them understand the real cost of items in the real world. She then gives them a list of the types of purchases that will be their responsibility. If you are going to give children your money, I definitely like the idea of giving them a list of the types of things you will not be buying for them anymore. Giving a child an allowance on a regular basis to spend on their own pleasures, I cannot see developing any type of responsibility. It seems that would teach children that money is easy to come by -- that it does not require hard work and sacrifice.
I remember when I was growing up my Grandpa was talking about how we need to relate the money we would spend on a new shirt or an evening out to the time we worked to earn it. If the shirt costs me $20, would I work 4 hours for it? Would it still be worth it?
Also, money that you give a child is not money that is earned. The family has not become wealthier, it has just reallocated its resources. Chatzky states that even her children agree that the money she gives them is a lot different than the money they earn. It holds more value. It is theirs. It is their labor and frustration and reward.
We have had many conversations about how our boys could make money. Their creativity is amazing. Recently my seven year old son set up a stand to sell drinks and snacks. He made $10, but me being the realist that I am, (some may call it dream-crushing) I explained to him how he didn't actually make anything because he had to pay Dad back for his supplies. I hope I didn't discourage his desire to try, but it doesn't seem that I did. Businesses are hard to start. Snacks and drinks may not be a bad idea, but what about location? He decided he should set up a stand at the end of his uncle's driveway and sell pop to his uncle, who drinks more pop than anyone else he knows. He may have just learned an important lesson about marketing.
Jean Chatzky advises parents to motivate their children to save. She has found a dollar-for-dollar match to be effective. Sometimes it is not possible to put aside money for our children, even if we would like too, but we can definitely teach them to save their own money responsibly. We tell our boys to separate any money they get into four even portions. Then they give away one pile. I let them decide where they would like to help. We talk about the needs around the world and in our town or our church. My two older boys have read through Randy Alcorn's, Treasure Principle, which is a book I highly recommend. I want them to learn to store up treasure in heaven, to invest in the things that matter to God.
One pile is theirs for spending. I tell them this pile is for any thing they would like to buy for themselves or as they get older, it could be for monthly living expenses.
The last two portions are for saving. I try to keep the future in front of them. For example, even though they are years away from having a license to drive, we talk about their older cousin who is about to drive. I encourage them to ask him if he plans to buy a vehicle and I tell them some day if they keep saving they will be able to buy their own vehicle. We talk about people they know who are in college and how they can go to college too with the savings they are working on now. We talk about buying computers and some day houses.
We do need to be wise with our money, but also realize that it is God who gives the power to get wealth. It's amazing how hard and long we can work on saving only to have something unexpected come up that uses all of what we have saved. Our money can never be our security.
I hope our children can learn without making the same mistakes we did. I also hope they will grow in faith that we serve a God who is bigger than our money.
Waiting
What does God want from our lives? I know what I am suppose to do today and tomorrow. Isn't that enough?
I know we need to move -- although I can never seem to explain why to anyone else. Sometimes I feel like Abraham. Called to go somewhere, but not knowing where. Wanting to do something that matters for eternity but feeling like we have no direction on what that is. Obviously this includes teaching our children the best we can to love and obey God, honoring God through our marriage, loving our neighbors, etc... The list could go on and on. So why this restlessness?
God says He gifts His people to serve the church. But what are our gifts? Or what if the church doesn't see the same gifts or any gifts?
Moses was 80 when God called him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. Caleb was in his eighties when God used him to wage a war for a mountain. Isaac and Rebekkah waited 20 years for God to give them a son.
Waiting. We are not too old to wait longer. I've heard that God can use someone of any age -- that in a symphony not all the instruments play at the same time. So our instruments are silent and we wait.
I know we need to move -- although I can never seem to explain why to anyone else. Sometimes I feel like Abraham. Called to go somewhere, but not knowing where. Wanting to do something that matters for eternity but feeling like we have no direction on what that is. Obviously this includes teaching our children the best we can to love and obey God, honoring God through our marriage, loving our neighbors, etc... The list could go on and on. So why this restlessness?
God says He gifts His people to serve the church. But what are our gifts? Or what if the church doesn't see the same gifts or any gifts?
Moses was 80 when God called him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt. Caleb was in his eighties when God used him to wage a war for a mountain. Isaac and Rebekkah waited 20 years for God to give them a son.
Waiting. We are not too old to wait longer. I've heard that God can use someone of any age -- that in a symphony not all the instruments play at the same time. So our instruments are silent and we wait.
Pending Birth
Often I have thought of physical pain and how it is a relief that it happens so quickly. One minute you are riding your bike and the next you are laying on the sidewalk with a gash on your forehead. One minute you are buckling your child into the vehicle and shutting the door, the next your thumb is black and blue and you feel faint. Of course initial pain may be fast, but enduring the pain and healing may take longer. I am glad we don't know all the ways we are going to hurt ourselves.
Labor is different. You know it will hurt. You know it will come. What if you had a week to think about slamming your shin with a sledgehammer. You knew you were going to do it, just not yet. Could I lift the sledgehammer?
God will not take me to birth and then abandon me. He will not lead me somewhere that He is not. Still I do not like pain. I am not fearful now. I am ready to be free. It seems the hardest time for me not to be fearful is when I am laying awake in bed at night.
I cannot quite believe that we might have a baby. I pulled some baby clothes out of a box and washed them. I hope we will use them.
For the record, I think it will be a girl born on September 6th (Labor Day) weighing 8lbs 3oz. Of course logically I should guess a boy born September 11 weighing 7lbs 10oz.
My husband guesses it will be a boy born September 15th weighing 7lbs 2oz.
My mom guesses it will be a girl born September 8th weighing 8lbs 1oz, and my sister guesses it will be a boy born September 10th weighing 7lbs 6oz.
Labor is different. You know it will hurt. You know it will come. What if you had a week to think about slamming your shin with a sledgehammer. You knew you were going to do it, just not yet. Could I lift the sledgehammer?
God will not take me to birth and then abandon me. He will not lead me somewhere that He is not. Still I do not like pain. I am not fearful now. I am ready to be free. It seems the hardest time for me not to be fearful is when I am laying awake in bed at night.
I cannot quite believe that we might have a baby. I pulled some baby clothes out of a box and washed them. I hope we will use them.
For the record, I think it will be a girl born on September 6th (Labor Day) weighing 8lbs 3oz. Of course logically I should guess a boy born September 11 weighing 7lbs 10oz.
My husband guesses it will be a boy born September 15th weighing 7lbs 2oz.
My mom guesses it will be a girl born September 8th weighing 8lbs 1oz, and my sister guesses it will be a boy born September 10th weighing 7lbs 6oz.
Sunday, July 25, 2010
Filthy Rich
When my husband first met my mom, she asked him what he wanted to do with his life. He told her he planned to be filthy rich. (The things a guy will say to win a girl!) So with promises of riches we started our journey of married bliss. But one thing I wonder. Where did the riches go? I have a sneaking suspicion we may have missed the mark. We have all heard the "redneck" jokes. I think I could make my own version from personal experience.
You may not be filthy rich if...
... the thrift store rejects the donation you brought, and had been using, because "no one would want that."
... the man behind you in the grocery store check-out line offers to buy your $2.00 sausages.
... an elderly lady at church tells you she heard of a place giving away free clothing and couldn't think of anyone who could use that, except your family.
... a stranger stops you in the parking lot to give you the name and number of his friend, who happens to have a van that she wants to send to the junkyard, even though "it's nicer than yours."
Before we were married, my husband's sister asked me if I chose Eric for his personality or his looks. I thought this was a silly question because to marry someone for his looks is about as futile as marrying someone for his money. Oh, who am I kidding, I married him for his money, but I'll keep him for his looks. :)
You may not be filthy rich if...
... the thrift store rejects the donation you brought, and had been using, because "no one would want that."
... the man behind you in the grocery store check-out line offers to buy your $2.00 sausages.
... an elderly lady at church tells you she heard of a place giving away free clothing and couldn't think of anyone who could use that, except your family.
... a stranger stops you in the parking lot to give you the name and number of his friend, who happens to have a van that she wants to send to the junkyard, even though "it's nicer than yours."
Before we were married, my husband's sister asked me if I chose Eric for his personality or his looks. I thought this was a silly question because to marry someone for his looks is about as futile as marrying someone for his money. Oh, who am I kidding, I married him for his money, but I'll keep him for his looks. :)
Wednesday, July 14, 2010
Eternal Rest
Just thinking about rest again this morning. Israel was delivered by God's mighty hand from the slavery of the Egyptians. Then they began their journeys in the wilderness, all the time seeking that promised land from God. Many did not enter the promised land because of their unbelief, but those that remained were led by Joshua into the promised land. The promised land was God's rest for them.
But God says there is still a rest waiting for God's people. Isn't Canaan, the promised land, a picture of Heaven, our promised land? Perhaps we are wandering in the wilderness now. Maybe it feels a little like we are being bit by fiery serpents, or traveling in circles with no purpose, or maybe just extremely tired and weary. But there is a rest waiting for us. That rest is eternal freedom. That rest is eternal joy. That rest is a rest from trial, from tears, from separation, from sin. We toil now, but one day we will be forever with our Lord in our promised land. Let us not fail to enter this rest because of our unbelief. Let us thank God for our eternal rest.
But God says there is still a rest waiting for God's people. Isn't Canaan, the promised land, a picture of Heaven, our promised land? Perhaps we are wandering in the wilderness now. Maybe it feels a little like we are being bit by fiery serpents, or traveling in circles with no purpose, or maybe just extremely tired and weary. But there is a rest waiting for us. That rest is eternal freedom. That rest is eternal joy. That rest is a rest from trial, from tears, from separation, from sin. We toil now, but one day we will be forever with our Lord in our promised land. Let us not fail to enter this rest because of our unbelief. Let us thank God for our eternal rest.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Day of Rest
This past Saturday my husband took the three older boys for the day while I stayed home with Caden, the youngest. I did some straightening around the house, spent some time with my sister and steam-cleaned the carpets, which desperately needed to be done. Eric jokes that I just don't know how to sit. The next morning at church someone asked how I enjoyed my day of rest, referring to my Saturday with most of the family gone. I was a little confused at first because I had worked hard that Saturday, but also because I realized I really do consider Sunday my day of rest. I wasn't sure how to answer because my day of rest was just starting.
I haven't mastered getting all the kids fed, clean and ready for church in a restful manner, but that is a small portion of the day. I quickly forget the rush as I sit among friends at church. We drop our children off at their classes and then go to our class. I enjoy the class so much -- talking with friends, or just listening, sharpening our minds and lives. Often during the morning service I feel like I spend more time instructing my children than listening, but over all it is still restful. After all I do get to sit, and my husband is usually with me. On Sundays I get Eric all day long. Every other day there are responsibilities that keep us going, often in different directions, but on Sunday we never feel like we should be working. On Sunday we can be together. On Sunday we are both there all day to help with the kids. Although on Sundays, even with the children I get a break because we drop all their scheduled responsibilities they worked on during the week. It can be very tiring pushing new skills and truths into their minds. On Sunday we rest from their Scripture memorization, catechism, math facts, reading, and any other chores except what is necessary.
We are in the process of remodeling our basement, but on Sundays the mess and projects can wait. Sundays are freedom. The tasks before us may try to enslave us, but on Sunday the victory is ours.
After church we go to my mom's house for lunch. I truly enjoy a break from cooking. Helping prepare food and even cleaning up in someone else's kitchen just seems so much better for some reason. My sister and brother-in-law are there too. We talk and eat and relax.
After we've eaten and visited for awhile, we all lay down to nap or read or do something quietly. This is one of my favorite parts of the day. I tend to feel a little guilty if I nap on a week day, and it rarely happens. But on Sunday we nap every week. It is so refreshing. We usually nap in my mom's air-conditioned basement. It is so cool and dark and peaceful.
After the evening service, there is just about the right amount of time to feed the boys some leftovers and put them to bed. Then Eric and I enjoy the last of our day of rest together before another hectic work week starts.
Just writing this makes me eager for Sunday to come again. I love our day of rest.
I haven't mastered getting all the kids fed, clean and ready for church in a restful manner, but that is a small portion of the day. I quickly forget the rush as I sit among friends at church. We drop our children off at their classes and then go to our class. I enjoy the class so much -- talking with friends, or just listening, sharpening our minds and lives. Often during the morning service I feel like I spend more time instructing my children than listening, but over all it is still restful. After all I do get to sit, and my husband is usually with me. On Sundays I get Eric all day long. Every other day there are responsibilities that keep us going, often in different directions, but on Sunday we never feel like we should be working. On Sunday we can be together. On Sunday we are both there all day to help with the kids. Although on Sundays, even with the children I get a break because we drop all their scheduled responsibilities they worked on during the week. It can be very tiring pushing new skills and truths into their minds. On Sunday we rest from their Scripture memorization, catechism, math facts, reading, and any other chores except what is necessary.
We are in the process of remodeling our basement, but on Sundays the mess and projects can wait. Sundays are freedom. The tasks before us may try to enslave us, but on Sunday the victory is ours.
After church we go to my mom's house for lunch. I truly enjoy a break from cooking. Helping prepare food and even cleaning up in someone else's kitchen just seems so much better for some reason. My sister and brother-in-law are there too. We talk and eat and relax.
After we've eaten and visited for awhile, we all lay down to nap or read or do something quietly. This is one of my favorite parts of the day. I tend to feel a little guilty if I nap on a week day, and it rarely happens. But on Sunday we nap every week. It is so refreshing. We usually nap in my mom's air-conditioned basement. It is so cool and dark and peaceful.
After the evening service, there is just about the right amount of time to feed the boys some leftovers and put them to bed. Then Eric and I enjoy the last of our day of rest together before another hectic work week starts.
Just writing this makes me eager for Sunday to come again. I love our day of rest.
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