A Man for Such a Time as This

Exactly how did I get caught up in this election?  Exactly how did we come to an agreement as a couple and a family to support Curtis Bostic for Congress?  Why have we poured time, energy and resources into this campaign?  Why are we making phone calls, sending emails, posting information, passing out flyers, holding banners, feeding volunteers, working behind the scenes, and more?  Well, it was a little less scientific and a little more God-driven.  This is God's man for this moment in time for this job.  Simple.  But how do *I* know that, and why should *you* vote for him, if you live in the First Congressional District in South Carolina?
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Wouldn't it be great if God would give us little slips of paper with all the answers on them?  I mean, it would make decisions in this life so much easier.  If someone would just tell us what to do, where to go, what the will of the Lord was, and if we could just trust that advice, then it would save so much of our time and energy.  We wouldn't have to work and struggle quite so hard.  While there have been many decisions we (our family) has made during the last (almost) 20 years which we have struggled over, prayed over, sought guidance over, and while we have made some mistakes and wrong decisions (which incidentally I knew at the time but felt like I was on a water slide going down too fast to stop), most decisions and choices have been rather, well, benign.  Surrounding ourselves with good guidance, praying often, and keeping our eyes and ears open leads to rather, more of an ease to decisions.  The wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth isn't what I believe the Lord is asking of us.

In December, I had the awesome opportunity to help a friend of mine achieve something.  This man is a dear brother in the Lord (soon you will read the blog post I've already written about him and his family).  As we both knew, the task we were vying for was far-fetched at the least and if it had come to fruition, no one would have been more surprised than us, even though we know we serve a BIG GOD who can do His will however He wants.  What we did know was that this would lead to something else, neither of us knew exactly what, but something... something that would build on the foundation that we had begun with acknowledging the gifts my friend has for the public at large to soon know.  And it all led to where we are today, right now, at this moment, 48 hours from election day.

Just after Christmas, my friend and his family came over for an old-fashioned supper and fellowship.  Over cube steak and potatoes, green beans, fruit, and homemade rolls, it was all politics. Who was going to run for the 1st district congressional seat held by then Congressman Timothy Scott who was resigning in a few days to go to the US Senate?  Would my friend run?  We worked on that awhile... or would *his* friend run?  I knew of this friend of his but only slightly.  We met once, a long time ago at some homeschool function which even I cannot remember, which is very strange for me.  I had met with and talked with his wife other times, met some of their children, knew they were an incredible homeschooling family, basically knew they were an amazing family.  Almost a "too good to be true" kind of a family.  My best friend knew them well, and yes, they were exactly as they seemed, the "real deal", nothing fake here, but true Christian character lived out daily in their lives and in every situation.  The more that he began to share, the more I realized the Lord was speaking directly to me in my dining room; it couldn't have been more clear.  The clincher was this: (as if I wasn't listening...and I really was!).  My friend finished with, "If I want to run for this seat, Curtis won't run, he'll take his name out, and drop back and be the first person to write a check and support me for this endeavor. That's the kind of friendship and accountability we have."  Now, it might seem a little shallow to know who you're going to support in December before the Congressman has resigned, before you even know who for sure is running, before you even know if your friend is even running, but God speaks through people, He uses the here and now and we have to be ready because He may just give us the answer when we are least expecting it or least want it.  Yes, He speaks through pastors or teachers of the Word, or through prayer, but every single believer is used by God to influence others and sometimes He uses unbelievers!
Of course I did pray about it.  I did put forth Gideon's fleece and boy did God deliver.  So here's what you should know and why you should support Curtis Bostic for Congress:

Everywhere I go, every door I knock on, every phone call we make, we hear the same plea, the same question asking for help.  "But so many of them are the same!  How do I know which one of those 4 (some say 5) to vote for?"  If you want to vote for a Christian, conservative, Constitutional candidate, then yes, you're in trouble because there are about 5 of them out of the 16 Republicans running for this seat, not to mention that they're pro-life, pro-gun, pro-homeschooling, and pro-limited government.  That's when people check out, they go back to their pressing life and decide to wait it out and see which two will be in the run-off, a much easier decision.  But Curtis isn't just your typical candidate in that bracket and we have a responsibility to work hard and find the answer and we have a God-given responsibility to be involved and figure it out.

This man has everything to lose by running,...by winning.  He will have to give up his law practice helping people, his life's work, his joy of a job; he cannot even have his name on the building should he win.  He will have to give up his ministry, "Remember", giving aid and helping children in 3rd world countries, another love of his. This mission-minded soul had to choose between his current mission and an equally great mission, helping people in this country.  No other politician has so much to lose while having something to gain.  Others are seeking to move up the political ladder, further their careers, ignore term limits they had previously set, and seek only political gain.
Curtis is the one candidate who has a command understanding of the Rule of Law, the US Constitution, and I'm not talking about a ship.  Others know parts, carry the booklet around, kick the can down the road in forums fairly well, but Curtis can take any situation you give him and using his Constitutional lens, give you the good, the bad, and the ugly.  It may not be exactly what you want to hear, it may not be the most politically savvy answer, it may cost you something you have to give up, but it will be the right, sound doctrine because it will be based on a system of law set in place by a group of men God poured out wisdom on 224 years ago.  I've watched it in action.  I've heard the stories about Curtis, who so desires that we put our trust in this system, that he's willing to forgo the good answer for the best answer.  No other candidate has done this.
Curtis is the most ethical man I know.  He has committed to run an campaign of high standards, he won't allow or use any false, misleading or negative advertising.  He wouldn't even put his signs in Charleston County right of ways as all the others had done because it was against an ordinance which the county made sure every candidate was aware of.  Recently, the county rescinded this but his exact words to me before this were, "I want to be a law-maker, not a law-breaker."  If you did see his signs, it's because we asked businesses' permission.  And yes, we're putting up signs like crazy now.
When approached with a problematic situation, instead of resorting to a negative campaign, or even a press release, Curtis's words are, "I will run on my record, let the chips fall where they may."  Everything he does, he prays over.  He knows that God will direct this election and he's letting God and the Word of the Lord direct his part in it.
Recently having been made a target by one of those others who seem so like him, so like a lot of the others, but yet, unlike Curtis, he chose to handle it in the biblical manner, Matthew 18.  Very few know which other candidate is allowing negativity, attacks, and other unbiblical nonsense to be spread to hurt Curtis because the Lord has blessed this campaign and Curtis is a serious threat to this other man's viability because of their seemingly "sameness" on the surface.
Viability. What makes a man viable?  God does. But money talks in politics and if Curtis does well, it will be because he managed extremely well the resources he has been given by the Almighty and others, it will not be because he spent the most, in fact, he may be one of the smaller spenders.

Curtis' silence and willingness to listen to voters speaks volumes (pun intended).  He is not loud or self-serving when he talks and he is more willing to hear than jump in with immediate solutions and answers. He has a lot of the answers, he's willing to work hard to figure out the rest, and he understands our government and our problems facing SC and the nation but he also understands the value of conversation and that if elected, he represents the people, not the establishment or his own personal interests.
He served on Charleston County Council for 8 years with Tim Scott; many achievements were made during that time, including keeping my taxes down.  Tim has been a friend of his for a long time and has been encouraging during this process.  If you are still trying to decide, still trying to find that one distinctive man, I humbly pray that the Lord will work through my words and you will choose today to support the man, God's man, for the next Congressman from SC.
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While I do not know the future, and only God knows what Tuesday night will bring, I do know He has something further in store for Curtis Bostic, whether it be a seat in Congress or another job entirely.  Curtis has dedicated his life to serving the Lord; he's the different but better candidate for the 1st district and that's good enough for me, Will you please join me?  We need a "few good men" and women, as the former Marine, Curtis Bostic, might say, to come alongside of us and vote on Tuesday and encourage others to exercise their right and responsibility to choose the best man for the job.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year

If you missed this at Christmas, here's our update from last year, 2012.  Of course, if you did receive this "snail mail" with our card and it seems a little different, it's because I always remember a few details that somehow get left out, so I've added a few of those in as well as fixed the erroneous numbers (the amount of laundry was off, way off).  Enjoy!

Merry Christmas to you and your family from ours!  The Lord has blessed us and great is our joy!  We hope your heart is close to Him and you are peacefully resting in His spirit this wonderful Christmas season!

Our blessings we hold so dear have brought us more joy than imaginable.  Our baby, whom we all just adore, is a major delight for us all.  We just can’t get enough of her sweetness and cuteness and her, as we call it “100 hairs” which she finally grew last month.  Katharine Ellis, who mainly goes by “baby” loves all of us too.  She learned to walk on New Year’s Day and hasn’t slowed down yet.  She doesn’t talk much but there’s not much opportunity.  She does say a few Spanish words! While still making us laugh with his wit, Jackson is a young first grader, who loves action and movement which pretty much means school isn’t his favorite thing. For he and Harris and Drew, it’s all about cowboys, guns, swords, soldiers, wrestling, trucks, trains, climbing trees and anything slightly dangerous, like walking on the deck railing.  You really haven’t lived until an 8 year old boy uses your mixer beaters like a machine gun (with mashed potatoes) while another comes around the corner bandana covering the face with his cap gun, shouting, “Stick ‘em up!”  Or when you go outside to check on the fort they are building and wonder why one of the boys is very still on the ground for a long time.  Bending down to ask revealed that I had intruded upon a fallen soldier.  “Mommy, I got shot by the ‘Federates’.  This is Bloody Lane” (Ever been to Antietam?  They have!)  Harris and Drew have gotten into chess and like 500 piece puzzles so occasionally it is quieter, but never quiet.  They bring us laughter and just as often try me.  God is perfecting my character through times when football is being played in the front yard and Scott at age 14 and 140 pounds executes a great drive but the other team’s face lands in a brick wall!  Speaking of football that sums up Scott; he eats, breathes, and lives it.  Well along with “his baby” as he calls her.  I have a mental picture I will never forget, a sweaty fully-suited up football player carrying “his baby” on his shoulders after a high school game.  Sarah Kelly and Elizabeth can be be just as wild as the boys when playing with them but they like their calmer time too, to knit, sew, do crafts, and play with dolls.  Sarah Kelly is my right hand and sometimes my left!  She is quite the cook and seamstress.  Elizabeth is really enjoying gymnastics something no one else gets to do but her and loves to play with the baby.  JB and I haven’t changed much, we work hard and play hard and love it all.  We are so incredibly blessed. 

So here is a synopsis of our year, a very general one at that.  While you read the following, keep in mind the stats I took time this year to average:  By the week:  15-18 laundry loads, 3 bread loaves, 4 gallons of milk, 26 gallons of gas, 12 dirty bathrooms (each of our 3 bathrooms are very dirty every 2 days), 20 dishwasher runs; 2 grocery trips; 16 hours of read aloud time;  2 overflowing refrigerators and 2 freezers; 25 diapers; 9 shirts to iron; 10 hours of vacuuming; countless hours of school and work to do for school; 21 times of saying “cierra la puerta!” (shut the door); never enough sleep but always someone to cuddle with.

                                                                                        

2012

We could have said this year was calmer than last which brought our new baby, a new vehicle, a new place to live for the summer, but when we talked about the year in recap?  It’s been just as much of a wild ride as 2011, so I’ll give it a whirl!

January didn’t bring a cold winter, but brought chicken pox.  Each child besides Sarah Kelly had it, from baby to teenager.  For the littles, a sense of pride ensued as to who the “winner” was; whoever had the most spots.  February ushered in birthday season.  The baby had her first birthday, a Sophie the giraffe party in pink and brown and Scott turned 14 the next day.  We redid our kitchen countertops, changed the knobs out, put in a new stove and dishwasher and cleaned the cabinets (novel idea) and viola!  It seemed like a new kitchen.  This was all completed just before Leap Day. The little ones still talk about being in 5 newspapers and the TV news following them around that day.  Their big party we hold once every four years for our rare spontaneous triplet leapsters involved lots of friends and family playing games, eating bbq and of course, homemade ice cream and cake.  March brought the end of the bathroom renovation we started just before the baby was born.  We finally got our shower tiled and the bathroom completed after a year of off and on work just in time to rent our house for a long weekend during a homeschool conference. Scott had won the local Geography Bee, qualified for the state bee and participated against 100 other students to come in 5^th place in the state.  April found JB teaching a bridge refresher inspection class (which he does quite often) in San Francisco so the baby and I went along; spent a few days in one of my favorite cities, then took the train out to Clayton where we had lived last summer spending the rest of the time with “Grandma Patty” at her home.  It did something good for my soul to see the beautiful peaceful gardens again at the house and put my hands in the dirt.  Drew played baseball for the first time during the spring and really enjoyed it; I liked that we found a local team and we didn’t have to drive so far.  And of course, we were raising four ducks!

May brought strawberries, 22 gallons of them but many hands to pick, pack away, and eat.  It also brought the end to activities such as Cub Scouts, Boy Scouts, literature group, and piano and a fun trip to Great Wolf Lodge for the family. June was Boy Scout Camp and National Youth Leadership training for Scott and continuing schoolwork as well as Jackson's Kindergarten Graduation we did here at home.

Early July took us to Canada (another class for Jeff to teach), a trip on the way up to the west where we watched 4^th of July fireworks over Niagara Falls, and a trip on the way back through the Northeast.  We really enjoyed our time on the dock at the house we rented in Nova Scotia.  When we arrived home the end of July summer and vacation were over.  The following 6 weeks are almost hard for me to believe or remember everything that happened and if someone had told me what it would have entailed, I’d have stayed on the dock in Canada. 
Upon our return, we had 2 stray dogs in our yard, one of which was expecting, unbeknownst to us and whom we ended up fostering along with her 8 puppies for the humane society until early Nov.  We spent lots of time praying, discussing, and visiting our local high school to determine if JV football was right for Scott, an option after a new law passed in late June to allow homeschoolers to play sports.  After 3 weeks of phone calls, visits, letters, work, grades, etc…, we made the decision to let him play.  While all this was going on, we investigated opportunities (which took a lot of research) for Scott to take a lab science class and eventually settled on a homeschool co-op  which we attend every Mon.  All the school-age ones get to participate (geography, p.e., nutrition, zoology), the baby stays in the nursery with me and I also teach a one hour writing class to SK’s age group.  While making all these decisions, I tried very hard to wrap up the paperwork and materials from the last year, completely cleaned up and reorganized our school room, and tried to plan for the new year.  But there were always other things going on, like plumbing problems, the kitchen sink falling in, the dishwasher falling out, the dryer handle falling off (we currently use a screwdriver to open it) and JB being gone 2 different weeks for work.  We finally (after almost 3 years of plywood) floored our bedroom, which meant taking everything out of it.  In this homeschooled family there are 2 huge bookcases overfilling with books, my desk, and computer in there as well as the baby’s crib, changing table, and regular furniture so this was no small feat and it all had to go back in order.  I took the opportunity to rearrange my room somewhat, or at least the work area part of it.  We painted the deck, started painting the house (not finished yet), and planted more flowers and bushes outside which we added a dump truck load of mulch around.  The dishwasher repairman(for a new one!) was here enough to be on my cell phone list, the high school knew me by face and name I had to go in so much to get the football paperwork worked out, and somewhere in there Jackson had a birthday.  Keepers at Home classes started for the Sarah Kelly and Elizabeth.  It’s fun for us to go together once a month for a time of devotions and an activity/craft/project.  Near the end of August JB and I got to stay in downtown Charleston for a marketing conference we go to every year.  We had a nice 3 days away (but we worked at marketing) and even managed to run into our house down there for a few hours to move some furniture in and around, hang some pictures and bring some back.  We had not been there since June and had no idea, with what was looking like a crazy fall schedule when we’d be back, so we worked in the house for about 50 minutes, shrugged our shoulders and raced back up to Greenville for Boy Scouts.  Three sets of company came in August and culminated with Grandpa Russ and Grandma Helen from Kansas.  They made my year when they brought me her Ironrite she had received as a wedding gift 55 years ago.  I have really enjoyed ironing from a chair and pressing all my tablecloths, napkins, and sheets with ease.  It’s really the simple things that bless me! 

As September dawned we slept a little more and eased into a routine with just the normal stuff: school, co-op, football, church, Scouts, gymnastics (Elizabeth), and piano lessons.  JB went to Alaska for 3 weeks to inspect bridges and we took care of those 8 puppies born just before he left.  We picked tons of apples and the late crop of tomatoes ensuring that the stove and dehydrator would not be idle for several weeks.  I don’t think my stove/oven is ever off!  October found our family in Chattanooga (JB again teaching) for my birthday and we toured some Civil War sites.  Football was over at the end of the month which came way too fast for all of us.  Some or all of us went to every game and we looked back with gratitude that we had made the right decision.  The parents we met, the boys on the team, the coaches, the games, the principals’ daughter (our new babysitter) that Scott got to play wide-receiver as a freshman, that he never got hurt, all of it was a blessing and a positive experience.  Most every day he says, “I wish we still had football practice”.  Every afternoon he goes to strength/agility/weight training at the hs for off-season sports.  This Jan. he is hoping to play soccer.  It’s  a whole new world but we’re enjoying the ride.

In November with football over, Scott’s time was more flexible and he went with JB to Kauai, Hawaii for a week while the firm did inspections.  He enjoyed helping Dad work, meet the clients, having fun snorkeling and going to Pearl Harbor.  The week before he had finished the workday part of his Eagle Scout project for Boy Scouts.  They came home and the next day we left for Kansas.  We got to go back to our church there for a Thanksgiving service and onto Omaha, NE for JB to do a presentation for the DOT.  The children and I amazed ourselves at the zoo and we did some Lewis and Clark wanderings and museums as well.  We had a wonderful time that Thanksgiving week visiting with friends and our “Kansas Family”.  Now it’s December and on the 6^th Scott had his final board of review for Eagle.  The Eagle has landed!  A celebration is coming.  We’ve had fun winding down school somewhat to decorate, visit, have others into our home, celebrate SK’s 12^th birthday and participate in all the fun the season brings.  We are going to spend some of our time relaxing (and working a little) at the Charleston House which we have used this past year for those needing vacation and short-term rentals.  Each night as we light our advent candles, sing, and read, we bring focus back on the reason for all the hustle and bustle, the tiniest reason of all, the baby Jesus, born to die so that we might be born to live.  May God bless you in the coming year and may you listen to that still small voice when it calls out to you so that you too, may have life, and have it more abundantly.

Love from the Rowe Tribe,

Jeff, Kelly, BSA (Scott), Sarah Kelly, Harris, Elizabeth, Andrew

Jackson, Peter, Jonathan (our blessings in heaven) and Katharine Ellis

www.therowetribe.blogspot.com

rowetribe10@gmail.com

The Boy is a Man and Lessons in a Hat

Note:  This post was orignally written in July, 2012 but it just now being published with one minor addition:  the sign in sheet for the Eagle Scout project.  Otherwise it is in its complete form as it was written that evening in July, on the dock on the Western Shore in Nova Scotia.

He carries the world on his shoulders, the boy who is a man but not yet. 

 He carries the load, it's burdensome and he puts it down but he cannot resist and it is picked back up again. To become a man is a funny thing, you want it but yet you don't.  How I remember listening to a small voice, yet to crack, saying, "I'm not sure if I want to grow up?" 

 How to lighten the load? How to help him carry it gracefully with strength and dignity and integrity? Or can I?

The burden of becoming and being a man will only push on his shoulders to the extent that the woman in his life allows it to.

I wish I had the hat or better yet, just a picture of it.  The hat is long gone, maybe in Newfoundland, maybe in the North Pole?  

It is our first day here, really here, that is.  We have covered the particulars, food that is, and we are unpacked and settled.  Maybe too settled so that familiar causes us to stumble.

A majestic setting, a beautiful place where there is nothing ugly or hurtful, or just plain inconsiderate until I find the hat. 

 An old hat, very worn, sitting on the workbench, very ugly.  Awful ugly,awfully dusty and probably mildewed.  It boasts a "Corona" beer label on the front without the bottle so I deem it wearable.  I have no hat.  I always have a hat, especially in summer, but the one thing that was forgotten was my hat. 

 My husband is buying me a hat today in town when he goes into the city to teach his class but right now, today, this time, bright sun, I slip it on, grime and all.  No one wants this hat, it has been left behind for years.  I slip on sin; it coats me, but I don't recognize it yet. I seem to have a tough skin and the Lord, gently as He does, works on me patiently and then when I see, so clearly, I cry, but right now I don't see anything but a grand adventure awaiting us.

For now, there's just the hat and this beautiful day and we can't wait to go out to the dock.

We are not out long and there's a stiff breeze, the kind that feels so refreshing on a hot day, the kind that whips your hair to your face, that lifts your hat from your head and sails it into the water.  The hat, the one my oldest son made fun of, in a loving way.  So like his Daddy, the boy is a man, teasingly good-natured, loving me the way he knows how, with words of fun and tease.  "There goes your gorgeous hat, Mom."

"Oooh, that's not my hat.  We have to get it! Scott will you jump in and get it please?  "Aw Mom!"  "I don't have my bathing suit on yet and the water's pretty cold today. "Please Scott, it won't hurt you; you didn't seem to mind yesterday?"  "Yesterday I had my suit on."  "But it's not a big deal; just go in with your shorts on."  Meanwhile the hat is floating further and further from the dock.  I am tense, getting a little ruffled.  Why won't he just dive in after the hat?  He doesn't mind cold, he loves water.  What's the big deal?  "Scott I need you to go after the hat.  It may belong to someone and I don't want to lose it since it's not mine especially."  "Oh, Mommy, I really don't want to go in.  It's an old beaten up hat, let it go."  "If it's your clothes, then run up and change real quickly".  "There's no time for that Mommy."  "Ok, I'm going in after the hat." I get an incredulous look from the boy is a man.  The hat is way out there; the wind has sailed it and skimmed it along the water tops.  I'm not sure if I can get it but I must, I have to get the hat.  It has become all or nothing to me.  "You cannot get it now; it's too far out.  I don't think I could get it now", he says.  "But I must!" "By this time there is an element of heightened frustration and perhaps a little fear.  Will there be trouble if I lose the dusty, old, long-forgotten hat?  Is it worth it?  Do I demand my boy is a man go after it?  "Scott, just jump in and get it."  No response.  He looks at me as if he has no idea who I am.  Now the littles are taking up the tirade, pushing on him, pleading.  He pushes back and disgusted; he turns to leave.  "Okay, that's it, I'm going in, " I declare.  His response,  "You can't do that.  It's way too far now.  Look at this wind, this wind has made the current way to strong for you or me. Plus, it's very cold and remember you're cold-blooded."  This last comment hits me hard.  It is the quip of a good-natured joke without the tease this time.  This time, it is a hard look.  

Time stands still; the hat is nearly beyond our sight.  I have two options.  Force it

or let go.  Am I giving up too easily, allowing something that shouldn't be allowed, or is there something different entirely going on here.  I am mad.  Yes, I said it, inside I am upset. Because of why a voice says?  Because you lost the hat?  Because you didn't hang onto it in a strong wind?  Because you know better?  Because he wouldn't go get it?  Because you know it's not worth it?  Because it's worth jeopardizing relationship over all else?

Now, you don't know my boy is a man.  You have no idea the extent of our relationship, the time invested, the laughter, the hours we spent building train tracks, listening to him compose music, watching him ace Chemistry when I almost couldn't pass it, the fun, how amazing he is and wonderful to be with; there is no way in any amount of words I could ever describe any of this adequately.  You will have to believe me.  We are tight; thick, majorly connected.  When I signed in on his Eagle Scout Project sheet, I signed in this way: February 10, 1998, 10:09 pm CST.  I did not sign out that day nor will I ever sign out.  When I pass away, there will still be no signing out. 

 My influence will be forever and reach other generations.  I am now risking it over a hat.

 

I can try to kill myself literally by going after the hat and I'm not as strong of a swimmer as he is.  He would have to come after me; he would in a heartbeat, no hesitation, and rescue me, the boy is a man.  Now he turns to leave; he's leaving the dock; the one place we all wanted to be.  It is now past tense.  The littles are playing and having a grand time.  Everything is over or is it?  Time stands still.  I stand still and watch him slip away to the house.  

I stand for what seems like hours though it is only minutes for me to come to grips with it all.  The hat is gone but who cares, this has nothing whatsoever to do with a beer logo hat.  I know what's next and I sigh as the Holy Spirit prompts my heart.  I know.  Don't tell me,  I know.  I am pressing on the burden.  My boy is a man and I am in the process of disqualifying him for that position.  I must reinstate him.

Everyone must get away from the water and closer to land, up in the yard.  Sarah Kelly is in charge and I take the longest walk of my life up to the house.  Silence is golden and I use it, just silence.  We stare at each other on the sofa; he is glaring somewhat but underneath it I can see it, smell it, feel it, there is pain.  This is so simple but yet so hard.  I want it so badly I can barely contain the "I'm sorry. I love you so much; I asked you to do what you didn't feel was worthy.  It's my fault and for that I am sorrier than you will ever know.  It's not your responsibility that I lost the hat."  And on and on until there is nothing left and I know I will cry.  But somehow the tears are held at bay.  At bay, until the boy is a man speaks and with tears in his eyes says what I could never imagine.  "I'm so sorry Mommy, (yes he still calls me that sometimes), I should have jumped in immediately and gotten the hat.  This is all my fault.  I didn't want to get it.  I weighed it and realized it really wasn't that important; that it should just not be worried about.  But I would have gone for you because you asked me to but by the time I realized that I should, I couldn't get it anymore.  I am so sorry."  

Speechless and now not tearless, I am at a loss.  I thought I had this figured out.  It is like a double face-palm.  What?  He really was thinking this way?  

* * *

There comes a point where the boy is a man and has to be in charge; he has to be in control.  He has to start thinking like a man and being treated the way he deserves to be, with respect for his decisions.  This boy was wrestling with doing what his mama said.  This man was making a decision, a firm, affable, intelligent decision which he will be required to make more and more as time goes on.  No one is a boy one day and a man the next.  At this point, a major thing has happened.  I see him in a different light.  Many times I have deferred to him, which route Scott?  Which exit do you think?  These are our choices, which do you think is best?  More times I have thanked him for bringing in the groceries, opening the door for me, taking out the trash, keeping the younger ones, printing something for me, putting pictures on my blog, researching for me, taking care of the baby, helping me at a minute's notice, working hard at school, acting with integirty, and on and on.  And always, always he is saying, "Mommy, what do you need me to do next?"  I have turned over some decision-making and while still in a guidance and consulting position, I have tried today on the dock to take it all away. 

No, it is me who is so wrong and I tell him. But I am also glad that I can see so clearly.  We are both excited now.  Both happy to be going back down to the dock.  He cannot wait to spend the time down there that we had all anticipated from the beginning and I'm sure some littles will be glad to leave the yard and return as well.  As we walk down together, laughing, I tell him exactly how it is.  How his father, in the same situation, would look at me and make the same decision.  He would say with firm and definite words, but with a huge boyish grin, "It's just a hat and I'm not going after it and neither are you.  Let it go."  I tell this boy is a man how that would be balm for my soul; someone stepping up and making that decision, firmly with skill and thoughtfulness, taking care of me and my problems and then of course teasing me for long afterwards about my inability to keep an ugly, old, hat on my head during a fierce wind.  He laughs and says what pierces my soul, "That's what I wanted to say."  A photographer following us now would have a priceless picture of a taller than me boy is a man with his arm loped over my shoulder.

My boy is a man stays on the right path.  He has a good model of a manly father 

and the Holy Spirit hasn't given up on me yet as his mother.  I'm so glad I can depend upon God and I have complete trust in my soul.  

* * *

We have yet to ever speak of the hat again.  It is buried in my heart where mothers keep that which they never mention but what they always ponder.

"But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart."

Luke 2:19

A Home Away from Home

 Now that we've been gone from here for awhile, I'm missing that beautiful sunshine and that fabulous view off the Nova Scotia coast.

The man who built this house came by and knocked on the door.  He hadn't been there in at least 5 years but he knocks on our door while we're there. Me, so interested in the history of the house, who owned it, the mystery of some things in the gardens.  It was such an opportunity.  He couldn't wait to see it and I couldn't wait to show him around and ask all my questions.  It made him sad to see the gardens needing such work and the house needing a little more TLC.  I heard stories of winter, 2 wells running dry, and about their children. It'd be hard to know who enjoyed the visit more, the 80 year old who had planted the grass, tended the gardens, and built the house or the woman half his age who reveled in its time and glory gone by who can still see the beauty in the surroundings; how they reflect upon a place and strengthen it, and the spirit of a place beneath its dust and grime.  How Jesus just might see us.

There Was A Family...On the Marsh

"One day my friend and I were walking near the marsh along the southern shore and we saw this family, at least that's what it appeared to us to be.  We were quite alarmed, there were so many of them, but then, no, we realized, they were not an extended family, but my goodness, it must be one whole family.  My, my, but why in the world are there so many?  My friend whispers, 'They're probably Catholic.' 

Maybe, but I just don't know.  But why?  Even Catholics don't always have large families; so what's wrong with them?  Don't they know how to fix that?  In this day and age, it's just too expensive to have all those children.  My friend, readily agreeing, clicked her tongue adding, 'college is just out of the picture, why we could hardly handle the 3 we had; they're so expensive and my word I just always wanted some peace and quiet.' 

Yes, I responded with a sadness in my voice, those crazy people will just never know what it will be like to retire and have the things they want and the time to do whatever they want.  They'll never get to do things because they'll be paying for all those children forever. 

I just don't understand that weird group of those out there who have loads of children.  Really now, God gave me a boy and a girl and now I can get it over and done with.  You, my dear, have 3, but that's ok; you had 2 girls, so it was okay for you to have another. There's so much more to life and they're going to miss so much.  'Well', said my friend, 'just don't ask them these questions.  They always have such perk and cute answers and usually it's embarrassing to ask so please just don't say anything to them.' 

We continued to walk and gawk without being noticed, in silence, watching this crazy family and yes, the children must all belong to both those parents, they all look alike.  And I just couldn't help but feel sorry for them, here they had this teenager and a baby and all those others in between.  How miserable they must feel knowing they have to start over again and go through all those stages, the terrible twos, the horrible teenage years, oh yes, they'll see the error in their ways and they will regret it.

My friend lifted her hand slightly to nudge my eye toward the wrestling that was now taking place on the soft marsh grass.  'If they keep this up, they'll be very wet at high tide and that mud will never come out of their clothes.  And, can you imagine doing laundry for that crew?' 

She continued, 'Just how old do you think the baby is?  She can walk but she's so tiny.  Maybe they don't have time to feed her.'

'Yes, that's it', my friend said, 'I'm sure in large families, there's just not enough time to help everyone and someone's always left out.  I wonder just how much attention she gets?  Probably never enough.'

Look over there, those younger ones are wild and acting crazy, I said.  Don't they know that out in public they must be civilized and behave extremely well?   Because they're such a large family, people will really look at them more closely; people are always watching and it's important what others think of them.  Those parents shouldn't let them act so...so..happy?

'Oh no!'  What, I exclaimed?  'Just look over there at that, that, rabble rouser of a youngster.  He has stepped into a puddle hidden under the marsh grass and look what happened to his shoe!  If he were my child.....'

Oh, it's just mud, it will wash. 

'But what a chore and shoes are expensive.  See this is exactly my point from before, children are expensive and they cost you so much time and money.'  I just nodded my head.

I do want to know one thing though, How do they get that teenager to hang with them?  There must be some secret bribe going on. My son would never come out here with us.  He thinks we're weird and doesn't want to be seen with us anymore.  He just wants to hang out with his football buddies.   But this guy, he's throwing football passes with his dad...HIS DAD! and running them back.

My friend pauses for a moment and points out a beautiful girl sitting on the marsh with the dad taking lots of pictures.  'She looks so sweet and happy, I wonder what she thinks of all those children? They must have lots of conflict and surely they don't always get along, but why have so many?  Spare yourselves all that work; let them grow up, get jobs, and then they can learn how to get along with people.'
'

And the mother...hasn't anybody ever told her that she needs to wear make-up and look a little more, umm, put together?  Her hair doesn't look like it's been brushed in several days.  See, I told you, having all those people to take care of will just wear you down; you'll never have any time for yourself.  Someone should tell her that she needs to think about herself some and get some 'me' time.

There they go again except now the tide has turned.

'Speaking of tide, it's time for us to move on home.  The real tide is coming in and we're going to lose our beach to walk on, let's go.'

Look, that family is leaving too, taking the same path back to their house that we are. 

I know, I know, I shouldn't be looking in the windows as we walk, but it's so easy to see in now that it's dark.  Can you believe it's this late and those children are still up?  You'd think they were on vacation or something!  And really, who lets their children wear mis-matched pajamas and eat popcorn on a weeknight?  My friend replies, 'I think they are playing some kind of game and maybe drinking hot chocolate?  It's very warm out here, why in the world would they do that?'

Yes, they're nuts, they'll never have any peace or fun because they just plain have too many children.  Work work work all the time, I'm sure those parents never get to do anything they really want to. 

So, when we get back home tonight, what are you going to do?  My friend fidgets with her hands and sighs, 'Oh, I don't know, sit on the couch and watch TV, I guess, it's a little lonely and boring at our house.  I might try to call my son, but he's leading such a fast-paced life, he doesn't have time for me or anyone.  Seems like he could marry and have a family, but alas, no grandchildren for us.  Maybe I'll listen to music and clean the house again, even though it's already clean.'  What about you? 

And I have no answer because I do not know.

***

The next morning I take my coffee out to the deck alone to watch the sun make its first streaks across the sky and I happen to notice 2 solitary figures pulling a dingy from the bay, their laughter echoing softly back towards the shore, the woman spilling her hot tea on her jacket, her hair, crazy and uncombed, a man's deeper voice speaking as he helps her out of the raft and hand in hand they walk up the rocky path from the dock.  Oh, I see, it's the parents of that family who has moved in down the lane, the ones we happened upon last night in the marsh.  But where are all those children, I wonder?  And then I realize, oh, yes, that teenage son, he's old enough to be left at home sleeping with a host of sleeping children. 

They have come out before 5 am to take a misty boat ride, both of them now slightly damp, leaning on each other, drinking in the sight of a new day and I have to turn and go inside.  I cannot watch.  They make me feel so...so...uncomfortable, yes, that's it.  I'm so glad these people and others like them with their crazy ideas of letting God control their family, or whatever it is they say, I'm just so glad they're not my friends and that they don't go to my church.  I mean, they just wouldn't fit in, no one I know is like this, not in my church, not in my life, and if I knew them, I might just begin to feel, well, maybe, just a little....guilty.  No, surely not, and I set my jaw and step inside where no one is there but me.