Maybe I should have read Elisabeth Elliot

This moring, I ended up at the blog of Amy Scott.  I'm sure most Christian women in the blog circles where I travel are familiar with her. 

There was a post there about women who influenced us as mothers; particularly women authors.  The name Elisabeth Elliot was mentioned by many of the commenters.  I must admit to having hung my head in shame - virtually speaking, of course - because I have never read a thing by Elisabeth Elliot.  I don't know what that is, either.  I certainly didn't read books like that as a young mother.  From the time I had children until many moons later, I was working part-time toward my degree.  I spent more time reading about Penal Laws, Elizabethan England, and how women got the vote than I was about parenting.  Maybe I should have been reading Elisabeth Ellios, too; it sounds like I was missing something good.  It was actually a conscious decision I had not to read parenting books when the kids were babies.  I found too much information was just too overwhelming, and I was fortunate enough to be close to my mother and mother-in-law, who both taught me more about caring for babies than I could ever read from a book.

I did, however, before I had children, read the book The Family, (this was published by Moody Press, and I think it is out of print) by John MacArthur, and I can say with all certainty, that it was very instrumental in helping me to decide that I wanted to be able to stay at home full time with my children.  I have recommended that book to other mothers as well.  There you go; as usual, I get my advice from the place where most women don't.

When I began homeschooling, my husband and I were encouraged to sit under the teaching of the Ezzo parenting program.  We did.  We tried to employ the principles.  Time went on.  We woke up one morning and began to ask questions.  We regretted our decision.  There are some personality types of people who, when asked to comply with that particlular parenting program, end up spontaneously cumbusting at some point.  It is one of the things I wish we had not done, but it made me think about what bibical principles applied to parenting really looks like, and I can say our kids have recovered from that.  But I still regret it.

I think reading books about parenting can really help a young woman out, but she needs to find the right ones; they need to speak with a biblical voice.  What is even better, I believe, is if that new mother can find an older mother -- ideally, a group of older mothers of varying age -- to guide her.  It is so much easier to learn about motherhood in a group of other mothers.  One thing that I was blessed with when my children were small was a group of other female friends.  Our kids were all the same age, and we had visits together, babysat for one another, supported one another, and listened to stories about vomit and boogers and times of frustration when our husbands were working late, again.  I had my parents close by, too which helped.

Some day, if I am ever blessed to be a grandmother, I will likely give the expectant mother a book.  I tend to give books as gifts.  I don't know which one I will give yet.  I know what I won't give.  Perhaps I'll read Elisabeth Elliot after all these years and pass her along.  Maybe my daugher and future daughters-in-law will be inspired.

Voices of the Past - January 23, 2011

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for.
Hebrews 11:1

We should have such a faith to substantiate our hopes and to check sensuality, for we find the corrupt heart of man is all for present satisfaction  Though the pleasures of sin are short and inconsiderable, yet, because they are near at hand, they have more influence than the joys of heaven, which are future and absent.  We wonder at the folly of Esau to sell his birthirhgt for a morsel of meat (Heb 12:16).  When lust is up and eager for fulfilment, all considerations of eternal glory and blessedness are laid aside to give it satisfaction.  Many part with the joys of Christianity for the vilest price.  A little pleasure, a little gain, a little happiness in the world, will make men part with all that is honest and sacred.  A man would wonder at their folly, but the great reason is, they live by sense: 'For Demas, in love with this present world, has deserted me' (2 Tim. 4:10).  Here lies the bait, these things are present; we can taste the delights of the world, and feel the pleasures of the flesh, but the happiness of the world to come is unseen and unknown.  'Let us eat and drink, for tomorrow die' (I Cor. 15:32).  This is the language of every carnal heart.  Present advantages and vanities, though they are small and but trifles, have more power to pervert us than good things at a distance, and the promises of God, even, to allure and draw our hearts to God.  Here lies the root and strength of all temptions; the inconveniences of strictness in religion are present, and they may have been present distaste and present trouble to the flesh, and our rwards are yet future.  So, how can we check this living by sense?  Why, faith, substantiating our hopes, provides a remedy.  Faith makes things to beome as real as if they were already enjoyed.  Where faith is alive and strng, and is 'the convictions of things not seen', it baffles and defeats all temptations.

Thomas Manton, By Faith, Sermons on Hebrews 11, pp. 10-11.

The Difference Between Men and Women

... is in the driving.

And, no, it is not necessarily that women are bad drivers; although I'm sure many men think that.  I've heard husbands make comments about how badly their wives drive. 

No, I've discovered that the difference between men and women can be seen in the attitude toward driving in inclement weather.

It's cold out there.  It's cold out there in a number of places.  A fellow blogger (who lives a good deal south of Canada) said today that in her home state, it was -2 degrees Fahrenheit.  For those of us here in Canada, that's -19 degrees Celsius.  Crazy stuff.  Here, we had a comparatively balmy -9 Celsius (15F), but with the windchill, it was -19C out there.  It was very frigid.  I went out to brush off the vehicle to prepare for my trip to pick up the daughter from school for the weekend.  I went back inside and put on some long underwear.  Little kitty wanted out, but I decided that it was better for him to be inside.

I had not realized that the wind was a factor out there until I went out there and felt it.  I checked the weather for where I was headed and saw that there was flurries forecast, and I knew that somewhere along this country road-laden route to my daughter's school, there was going to be snow.   Blowing snow.  Those north-south routes, with those normally beautiful farmer's fields on either side, were bound to be snowy.  I braced myself.

They were indeed snowy.  There were also a lot of whiteouts in spots; the plows had been through and the snowbanks were heavy with wickdedly blowing snow, straight across my path.  Some spots had quite a bit of snow.  There was a car behind me, obviously trying to get a closer look at my bumper.  The speed limit was 80km/h (50 mph) and I was indeed going the limit, but with the drifts and the blowing snow, I just didn't dare go any faster.  I was relieved when I got to a section where the speed limit was 60km/h (37 mph), but the guy behind me must have been impatient, because he was still following closely.

"Please turn off at the next stop sign," I side aloud to the rearview mirror several times. 

The worst moment was when I got to a hairpin turn in the road and I did slip around a bit, but I got control of my vehicle well enough.  I was secretly pleased when I saw  in the rear view mirror that Mr. Big Truck was doing exactly what I had done.

And of course I made it without incident.  It took me 90 minutes, when normally it takes about 60 minutes.  I heard my cell phone chirruping as I got closer.  I assumed it was my daughter wondering where I was, but I don't answer the phone while driving.  It's illegal here in Ontario, as well it should be.

As I was driving through the snow, my mind went back to a time when my daughter was a baby, and my husband was working for a pharmeceuticals company which was about 40 minutes from home.  There was a storm one day, and it took him three hours to get home.  He arrived home, not stressed out, almost crying for relief.  He arrived home with adrenaline pumping.  He was excited.  It had been a challenge.  Man against nature, and all that fun stuff.  He has always been like that, and indeed, most of the men I know are.  Most, mind you, not all; I do know some who are not.   I was not energized when I got to my destination; I was thoroughly stressed out, and hoping that the return trip home would be less stressful.  Thankfully, it was, and when I got home, all I wanted was a nice cup of coffee.

For me, getting through the snow and the wind was a necessity; something to survive.  For men, it's a challenge.  Now, I wonder how that reality contributes to the very real reality that young men ages 18-25 typically have more car accident than anyone.

January does indeed stink at times.

Geometry I understand

I've been preparing my lesson for Sunday.  Last week, I did a brief introduction to the Psalms.  Each of the ladies in the class will have one of Kathleen Nielson's workbooks, Psalms Along the Way, and will do homework during the week, so the first class was to hand out books and give a brief introduction.  I touched on some of the information last week that they would enounter this week in their homework.  One of the ladies was quite alarmed at the look of all of that homework, but I'm hopeful that the fact that I touched on some of it would make it seem less onerous.  Many of the women in the class have full-time or part-time work outside the home, and trying to fit in extra quiet time may be hard, and I understand that.

This week, I hope to focus on the some of the aspects of Hebrew poetry, which is much of what Nielson covers in that first chapter.  When we think of poetry, we automatically of think of rhyme and rhythm.  Take for example this little offering, courtesy of Edward Lear:

There was an Old Man in a tree,
Who was horribly bored by a Bee;
When they said, 'Does it buzz?'
He replied, 'Yes, it does!'
'It's a regular brute of a Bee!'

The structure and rhythm of the limerick is one with which most of us are familiar.  One of my favourite poems," Sea Fever," by John Masefield has, if you read it out loud (which poems ought to be), the rhythm of  waves lapping.  Just try it sometime.

But there is of course, a poem that a lot English students really find bothersome (including my English major daughter), William Carlos Williams' "The Red Wheel Barrow:"

so much depends
upon

a red wheel
barrow

glazed with rain
water

beside the white
chickens

That doesn't really seem poetic to me, and I won't question the wisdom of its exaltation from the world of literature.  I don't know much about how it is interpreted, having not studied it, and never really liking it much.  It certainly does evoke images in our head, and that is part of poetry.

Hebrew poetry, rather, is based on the principle of parallelism.  I didn't do well in geometry, but that is a term that is easily understood from a literature point of view.  This principle means that Hebrew poetry relies on a structure of lines which are put side by side in different ways, and thus, build on one another.  For example from Psalm 2:

Why do the nations rage
and the peoples plot in vain?

The two units are a reflection of each other; the first action is "rage" and the second action is "plot."  This is an example of parallelism.  You can see a progression in this: raging escalates to plotting. This parallelism contributes to the meaning of the text.

According to Tremper Longman's book How to Read the Psalms, there are six different types of parallelism, but Nielson focuses on three:

1. synonomous parallelism - parallelism in which two lines say a similar thought
2. antithetical parallelism - parallelism in which the pair produce a contrast
3. synthetic parallelism - parallelism in which the second line adds more meaning to the first

One of the exercises that we did was to read the early chapters of the Psalms and look for various kinds of parallelism.  There are no hard and fast rules, though, and I am aware that the synonomous and synthetic varities could look like one another.  The point is for the students to see how Hebrew language works and how it provides meaning for the text.  The parallelism is a way for the meaning to build naturally.  If one reads Psalm 2, for example, which is full of parallelism, one gets a sense of the theme of the Psalm building throughout.  There is always a sense of completing at the end as well.  The Psalms don't tend to end abruptly, but conclude with a feeling that it has ended properly.

I love being able to point out the literary aspects of Scripture, because it really does help our understanding of them.  Neilson has a PhD in literature, so her studies reflect that.  I know that a couple of the students were a little daunted by the discussion of parallelism, but I encouraged them not to be put off by technical terms.  They're usually on scary until you figure out what they mean and see them in practical use.  At least,  the ladies were not burdened with the other three than Longman points out in his book; those ones were a little more difficult.

I'm looking forward to laying this foundation about Hebrew poetry with them before we start looking at a selection of particular Psalms.

Thankful Thursday

I am thankful this morning that I am feeling better than I was last week.  I am thankful that I had my Sunday school lesson done, and that there were some positive responses.  I was fairly nervous, because the Ladies Sunday school class at my church has, over the years, been a very social, fun time.  The lady who normally teaches is a very fun-loving individual.  I'm afraid that would not describe me, and I shared my concern with a friend who is coming, the concern that it wouldn't be "fun" for the ladies.  She reminded me that sticking to the Word of God is what is most important, and not to concern myself with "fun."  She's one of my best friends, and her opinion means a lot to me, so I felt better.

I'm thankful that both my kids are coming home this weekend.  It means extra cooking, but that's okay.  With just my 16 year old and my husband here, some nights, we sit in front of the television and eat, and it's always good to have sit down family meals.

I'm thankful for like-minded blog sisters, and exciting opportunities.

I'm thankful for the Psalms, and for how they give us such a rich picture of who God is and what our response to Him should be.

I'm thankful for having a early morning Blackberry Messenger exchange with my big brother, whose birthday it is.  I'm thankful for his sense of humour, and for the fact that we can laugh together.

I'm thankful for the blessing of the ordinary, of the regular, because God is in the midst of it all.