A toothsome tale? I think not!

I'm not a tooth person. They creep me out.

I get the willies even wriggling one of my kids' loose teeth. I got the willies losing my own teeth way back when.

Clara and Sophie both had teeth pulled today. Clara, because the enamel on her back upper molars had a genetic defect that made her teeth nerves very sensitive, and the teeth susceptible to decay. The hope is that her wisdom teeth will now move forward into the empty spots.
Sophie had two baby teeth whose roots did not dissolve.

Joe took them in since I was at work. But they generously offered to describe their experiences for me when we all got home. BIG SHUDDERING UGH.

Sophie's were a little worse than Clara's, which seems strange to me, since Clara's were permanent. Both of Clara's were done before Sophie's first one was out.

First, the redhead pain-med-not-working thing kicked in. They couldn't get Sophie's mouth and face to numb. They had to keep trying more and different and stronger things.

Then one of the roots broke off and they had to dig it out. If it was permanent, they could have used the drill. But since it was a baby tooth, permanent teeth were above it.  So they had to dig it out bit by bit.

Then on the second tooth, they ripped a big piece of nerve out with it. She said they held it up and the bundle of nerve fibers was flopping off the end of the root.

Ok, so by this time in the story, I was totally grossed out. A, "plugging my ears and going lalalala," kind of grossed out. Willies all up and down my back. And a little bit of bilious feeling in my throat.

Later in the day, the girls were comparing how deep the holes in their gums felt and looked.

And then I made the mistake of reading about dry sockets.  There are some things it's just better not to know.

Update #1, to the previous post, "Stages," in which Mary gets a job

Joe and I had talked about me looking for part time work after we moved. I wanted to get settled a little bit more before taking on this new thing. Besides having a little bit of extra money, Joe felt strongly that if I had too much discretionary time might, it might prove to be fertile ground in which my depression could again take root.

I was not actively looking for work yet. But I was starting to get more serious about the idea. I imagined to myself that perhaps in February, after the Christmas rush and recovery, I'd try to find something. I had "poked around," a little bit on the internet to see what kinds of jobs might be available. I did not want to work full time. I did not want to work when my kids were home from school. I did not want to have to buy a whole new wardrobe. I did not want to work in some food service type job in which I'd bring home gluten dust to drop into Joe's life. And I definitely did not want to drive 20 miles into Willmar for an entry level part time job.

So the couple of eating establishments in town were out. The bank was out. I am sorry to say that I don't feel like there is enough compassion left in me to be a CNA at the nursing home. There are a handful of other small businesses in town that I imagined might be suitable, but whether or not they'd be hiring anyone part time when I wanted a job was questionable.

There are two manufacturing places in town that seemed like possibilities. Kay's and Impact Innovations. But when I had periodically looked at their websites to check on employment opportunities, when there were jobs listed, they were always full time jobs.

I said in my previous post,

I have this fall, for the first time in 22 years, no children at home. People have asked what I'll do with myself. "Will you be bored or lonely?" "Are you going to look for a job?"

I further said,

When the time is right, I know God will present me with just the right "outside the home" job.

Just after Thanksgiving I got a call from a woman named Kathy at a local business, Kay's Naturals. Kathy said something like, "I understand you're looking for part time work. I can't say for sure I have a job for you, but if you're interested, I can present the idea at this afternoon's meeting and get back to you." Wow! That just blew me away.

And so I have a job. Just like that.

There is a little big of background to the story. One of the men at our church, Adam, is a supervisor at Kay's. Adam and I were talking in perhaps mid-November about my casual search for a job that maybe would turn more active in a few months.

Adam was at the other end of things with his job. Kay's had lost some full time employees. And there had been some difficulties with finding full time employees with a good work ethic.

Hmmmm, thought, the two of us somewhat in unison, "Too bad the companies that need people would not consider hiring part time. It seems like a part time person who is a good worker would be better than an extended search for the right a full time person."

Adam mentioned that he might ask about that if the opportunity arose.

And I gave the conversation really no more thought at all. I did not imagine that this conversation would lead to a spontaneous offer of a job.

But it did. Out of the clear blue sky.

Within about two weeks or our conversation.

So I talked to Joe. And I said yes.

I work from 8:30-12:30, Monday through Friday. After the kids leave for school I have about 45 minutes before I have to get ready to get out the door. I work in the shipping department, so I am moving all the time, which is good for me, since I've always dreaded the idea of a sedentary job. I work mostly with Adam and Cheryl F. Both are wonderful coworkers and they have been great trainers.

Oh, and did I mention that I can see the plant from my front door. I usually go out  my back door, but from the time I head out the door and get into the building and into the break room where I have to clock in, it's a four minute walk. I walk down the road, over the bridge, through a small green space, across the railroad tracks and around the warehouse to the front door. It's about 1/4 mile.

I've lost six pounds since I started working there.

People ask how I like my new job and I can eagerly say that I like it alot.

I still don't like that I am no longer a full-time, stay-at-home mom. But that is a post for a different day.

Stages

This is a post from October.  Some things have changed. But I'll save the updates for a different post.
Each stage has its own challenges and blessings. Each mommy has different skills and coping devices and stamina.

For me, my most productive and organized time was 4 and 5 kids. I don't know what happened in there, but I finally "got the hang of" the whole homemaking/ mothering organization.

But then I lost that after the two moves in 16 months that happened between babies 5 and 6. I never "got my groove back." I've gotten some parts back at some times, had new challenges thrown at me, totally lost any efficacy at other times, and then eventually sunk into a several years long depressive episode.

But now I'm back. I'm off antidepressants, feeling good, still struggling with concentration and motivation, but I really think that, too will improve with time and quiet.

Sometimes I see everything I've let slide over the last, say, ten or twelve years, and feel, .... overwhelmed. But I try very hard to not "go there," in that it's not productive and for me, I know now, might trigger the horrible depression into which I lapsed.
And now I find myself at a new stage, a new season. I have this fall, for the first time in 22 years, no children at home. People have asked what I'll do with myself. "Will you be bored or lonely?" "Are you going to look for a job?"

These are all valid questions. And things I've wondered myself. Joe has suggested I look for part time work. It would certainly help the budget. But for right now, I think there is plenty to do around the house. Plenty of organizing, plenty of cleaning. And of the making of lists there is no end.

I'm focusing on small steps. I'm trying to exercise. I'm trying to have after school snacks and meals ready at appropriate times. Healthy ones even! I try to not buy much prepared foods, or processed food, convenience foods, or whatever you want to use for a description of that stuff that you buy pre-made and just have to open a can or take something from freezer to oven. But this last six or eight months, after a move to a new house and having big kids home for the summer and people needing meals to go and meals at strange times, etc, .... And me having my kitchen kind of totally non-operational. I confess I've slipped a little bit. I've bought canned beans rather than cooking my own. I've used frozen pizza more times than I like to admit. I've used way more pasta than meat and potatoes. Even a quick pot of rice sometimes has seemed like too much work.

So meals, yes. It takes much out of me. And I need to get more organized, plan ahead, learn to shop at my new home, and finish tweaking the kitchen function.

I need to get the family office space or desk or file cabinet or whatever into a functional order. I need to know where the bills get put when they come in. I need to know where all the mail goes, and where to put the church mail for Joe. I need to have a good workable place for the kids to put the reams of paper they bring home from school. I need to research and be ready to discuss with Joe different option for debt reduction, since yes, over the last 15 years the level of our consumer debt has crept up and up and up. Something we were never, ever going to let happen. But it did. Gradually. Little by little. Month by month.

I want to create a smoothly enough running home so that when the kids are home, I like them. Say what?!?!

Of course I like my kids. I love them, in fact. But when the household is chaos, and all those bodies come tumbling in from the school bus, and they all want to tell me about their day. Some want snack and some like to do homework first and then snack and nobody wants to pick up their coats and jackets or put their shoes away right. Some can't find pencils, others need the computer, and there's always a line for something or other I need to sign, or something for which to write a check.

When all of this comes at me at about 4:30 in the afternoon, if supper is not already in the oven and laundry for the day done and folded, and other other daytime tasks I'm focusing on finished up, ... if I'm not up and running and ready for the afternoon commotion, ... sometimes by 5:00 I do not like my kids very much. And sadly, they do not like each other or me very much either. When the mom's not on top of things, the dynamic of everyone is adversely affected. It's one of those times of day that really can benefit from a mom with all her brain and a goodly part of her energy accessible.

That's what I hope to establish for my family in the next few months. There are signs that things are getting better.

I have been exercising. I have been brave enough to tackle some financial things. I have been about 70% on target with meals. I'm still only at about 50% of the time up-and-running kind of ready for the kids when they come home from school. The kitchen and living area tweaks continue, each one bringing a bit more order and therefore a bit more stability.

And we've started having read aloud again. At first it was only maybe once a week or so. But we're up to maybe two or three times a week that our evenings are smooth enough to manage it. I love being able to do that for and with the kids again. Some of my older kids' happiest memories involve something about the stories we read together when they were young. Either playing pretend with the story line, drawing scenes from it, repeating our favorite phrases at appropriately humorous times. It is something I cherish. So far I have not had much success in managing to work it in with the younger kids.

And so life goes one, the stages run, one into the next. Each with its own blessings and challenges. I praise God that I've been able to kick the prozac. I am so thankful for the gradually returning of my "old self." I thank God for each of my kids and each of the many joys they bring me. I am thankful for my Joe, who has sustained me, and put up with me, and loved me, just as I have him through all his stages and seasons.

And I pray God's blessings on this new and different stage of our lives, that of having no kids home during the day. When the time is right, I know God will present me with just the right "outside the home" job. I know until that time there is plenty to do here. I pray that I am able to continue to improve with focus and energy to get it all done.

Scary thing in the midst of the moving rush

This shot shows clearly the reason for the great joy we feel and the prayers of thanksgiving we send heavenward.

As some of you know, Matt was in a serious car accident a week before we moved.  He broke the left side of his sacrum.  Totaled his car.  But we are very thankful that is all that happened.  He had to be off work for several weeks and he had to reschedule his USMC annual training.  His boss, Quinten at Nelson and Nelson Construction was very patient and accommodating.

Matt had planned to live with a friend up north, Lana, the mom of the same Nelsons brothers Matt works for.  She ended up being ersatz nurse for him, and perhaps babying him through his recovery.  I definitely think Matt had a pretty good deal for his convalescence.

Matt now says he's pretty much back to normal, but during cold  and damp times he can notice the little bit of arthritis that came with the healing.

We thank God for allowing Matt to walk away from his accident with as little pain and inconvenience as he had.

The truck was balanced so precariously that the truck kind of rocked back and forth.

Every once in awhile, ...

Every once in awhile I am hit with one of those moments.  One of those moments when I see the concrete results of what Joe and I are trying to do with our kids. 

And every once in awhile, when those moments hit, my emotions run amok.  Happy my child is resilient.  Sad I can't do more.  Pleased our parenting seems to be paying off.  Frustrated that life is sometimes so hard. 

All of these and more.  But pride.  Yes, pride, good or bad, pride is a big emotion right now.   

Raising our children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord is, of course, our primary responsibility. And this particular moment hasn't to do with that part of our parenting.

Besides that eternal undertaking, in the regular day to day things, we try to raise strong and independent, resourceful kids.  Kids who can stand on their own two feet come what may.  Kids who will know how to survive even if something devastates our American way of life.

Simply having a big family and living on one income goes a long way in helping with that.  We can't live according to mainstream society's standards.  We can't provide our kids everything they want.  We can't have everything we want.  But we can show with our creativity and life choices how to live "outside the box."  How to have a rich life in spite of doing it differently than many of our neighbors and friends.

It also means that as our kids get older, and they begin to fend for themselves, sometimes we have to let them work their way through hard times.  Flounder.  Come up with their own unique best way to solve the problem.  Each of the four oldest has gone through such times.  And each one has handled such things differently.  Feelings of stress, deprivation, jealousy, even bitterness, sometimes accompany such challenges.  This is adult life, right?  It's a hard world.

But as every parent can attest, sometimes I just really wish I could fix everything for my kids.  Many times, because of our life choices and the blessing of a large family, we simply CAN'T step in and help out.  Except by simply, "being there," for them.  In the long run, I hope that makes our children stronger as adults.

It is still hard, though, to watch them going through difficult times.

This little facebook interchange between Elsie and I led to one of those moments I mentioned at the beginning of the post.  The kind of moment that just hits me. 

Earlier in my conversation with Elsie, I'd asked her if she needed help hauling stuff home after her school year was done.  She said she couldn't make any concrete plans until she got a car.  I had not heard anything about car trouble.  And so I asked.

Wow!  It hits me right in the back of the throat.  I am astounded.  Astounded, humbled.  This young lady hadn't even let me know she was having troubles.  She is a 17 year old, living pretty much on her own, working 15-30 hours a week, while taking college classes.  She is also in track. 

And apparently, she's been doing this all without the use of a car.  And without parental support.

(Joe said he thinks she had been talking to her Grandpa about it. Grandpa's smarter than we are in such matters anyway.)

Elsie, I'm pretty sure that not every moment in the last week or so has felt as nonchalant as your reply sounded.  But I have got to say, you're quite a gal!

Love you tons.

Luther's Preface to the Small Catechism

I was looking for an particular article that I remember seeing at one time, and instead came upon this.  I added the emphasis to help summarize the content.  As is typical, Luther does not mince words.  

Martin Luther to All Faithful and Godly Pastors and Preachers:

Grace, Mercy, and Peace in Jesus Christ, our Lord.

The deplorable, miserable condition which I discovered lately when I, too, was a visitor, has forced and urged me to prepare [publish] this Catechism, or Christian doctrine, in this small, plain, simple form. Mercy! Good God! what manifold misery I beheld! The common people, especially in the villages, have no knowledge whatever of Christian doctrine, and, alas! many pastors are altogether incapable and incompetent to teach [so much so, that one is ashamed to speak of it]. Nevertheless, all maintain that they are Christians, have been baptized and receive the [common] holy Sacraments. Yet they [do not understand and] cannot [even] recite either the Lord's Prayer, or the Creed, or the Ten Commandments; they live like dumb brutes and irrational hogs; and yet, now that the Gospel has come, they have nicely learned to abuse all liberty like experts.

O ye bishops! [to whom this charge has been committed by God,] what will ye ever answer to Christ for having so shamefully neglected the people and never for a moment discharged your office? [You are the persons to whom alone this ruin of the Christian religion is due. You have permitted men to err so shamefully; yours is the guilt; for you have ever done anything rather than what your office required you to do.] May all misfortune flee you! [I do not wish at this place to invoke evil on your heads.] You command the Sacrament in one form [but is not this the highest ungodliness coupled with the greatest impudence that you are insisting on the administration of the Sacrament in one form only, and on your traditions] and insist on your human laws, and yet at the same time you do not care in the least [while you are utterly without scruple and concern] whether the people know the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, the Ten Commandments, or any part of the Word of God. Woe, woe, unto you forever!

Therefore I entreat [and adjure] you all for God's sake, my dear sirs and brethren, who are pastors or preachers, to devote yourselves heartily to your office, to have pity on the people who are entrusted to you, and to help us inculcate the Catechism upon the people, and especially upon the young. And let those of you who cannot do better [If any of you are so unskilled that you have absolutely no knowledge of these matters, let them not be ashamed to] take these tables and forms and impress them, word for word, on the people, as follows:--
In the first place, let the preacher above all be careful to avoid many kinds of or various texts and forms of the Ten Commandments, the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, the Sacraments, etc., but choose one form to which he adheres, and which he inculcates all the time, year after year. For [I give this advice, however, because I know that] young and simple people must be taught by uniform, settled texts and forms, otherwise they easily become confused when the teacher to-day teaches them thus, and in a year some other way, as if he wished to make improvements, and thus all effort and labor [which has been expended in teaching] is lost.

Also our blessed fathers understood this well; for they all used the same form of the Lord's Prayer, the Creed, and the Ten Commandments. Therefore we, too, should [imitate their diligence and be at pains to] teach the young and simple people these parts in such a way as not to change a syllable, or set them forth and repeat them one year differently than in another [no matter how often we teach the Catechism].

Hence, choose whatever form you please, and adhere to it forever. But when you preach in the presence of learned and intelligent men, you may exhibit your skill, and may present these parts in as varied and intricate ways and give them as masterly turns as you are able. But with the young people stick to one fixed, permanent form and manner, and teach them, first of all, these parts, namely, the Ten Commandments, the Creed, the Lord's Prayer, etc., according to the text, word for word, so that they, too, can repeat it in the same manner after you and commit it to memory.
But those who are unwilling to learn it should be told that they deny Christ and are no Christians, neither should they be admitted to the Sacrament, accepted as sponsors at baptism, nor exercise any part of Christian liberty, but should simply be turned back to the Pope and his officials, yea, to the devil himself. Moreover, their parents and employers should refuse them food and drink, and [they would also do well if they were to] notify them that the prince will drive such rude people from the country, etc.

For although we cannot and should not force any one to believe, yet we should insist and urge the people that they know what is right and wrong with those among whom they dwell and wish to make their living. For whoever desires to reside in a town must know and observe the town laws, the protection of which he wishes to enjoy, no matter whether he is a believer or at heart and in private a rogue or knave.

In the second place, after they have well learned the text, then teach them the sense also, so that they know what it means, and again choose the form of these tables, or some other brief uniform method, whichever you like, and adhere to it, and do not change a single syllable, as was just said regarding the text; and take your time to it. For it is not necessary that you take up all the parts at once, but one after the other. After they understand the First Commandment well, then take up the Second, and so on, otherwise they will be overwhelmed, so as not to be able to retain any well.

In the third place, after you have thus taught them this Short Catechism, then take up the Large Catechism, and give them also a richer and fuller knowledge. Here explain at large every commandment, [article,] petition, and part with its various works, uses, benefits, dangers, and injuries, as you find these abundantly stated in many books written about these matters. And particularly, urge that commandment or part most which suffers the greatest neglect among your people. For instance, the Seventh Commandment, concerning stealing, must be strenuously urged among mechanics and merchants, and even farmers and servants, for among these people many kinds of dishonesty and thieving prevail. So, too, you must urge well the Fourth Commandment among the children and the common people, that they may be quiet and faithful, obedient and peaceable, and you must always adduce many examples from the Scriptures to show how God has punished or blessed such persons.

Especially should you here urge magistrates and parents to rule well and to send their children to school, showing them why it is their duty to do this, and what a damnable sin they are committing if they do not do it. For by such neglect they overthrow and destroy both the kingdom of God and that of the world, acting as the worst enemies both of God and of men. And make it very plain to them what an awful harm they are doing if they will not help to train children to be pastors, preachers, clerks [also for other offices, with which we cannot dispense in this life], etc., and that God will punish them terribly for it. For such preaching is needed. [Verily, I do not know of any other topic that deserves to be treated as much as this.] Parents and magistrates are now sinning unspeakably in this respect. The devil, too, aims at something cruel because of these things [that he may hurl Germany into the greatest distress].

Lastly, since the tyranny of the Pope has been abolished, people are no longer willing to go to the Sacrament and despise it [as something useless and unnecessary]. Here again urging is necessary, however, with this understanding: We are to force no one to believe, or to receive the Sacrament, nor fix any law, nor time, nor place for it, but are to preach in such a manner that of their own accord, without our law, they will urge themselves and, as it were, compel us pastors to administer the Sacrament. This is done by telling them: Whoever does not seek or desire the Sacrament at least some four times a year, it is to be feared that he despises the Sacrament and is no Christian, just as he is no Christian who does not believe or hear the Gospel; for Christ did not say, This omit, or, This despise, but, This do ye, as oft as ye drink it, etc. Verily, He wants it done, and not entirely neglected and despised. This do ye, He says.

Now, whoever does not highly value the Sacrament thereby shows that he has no sin, no flesh, no devil, no world, no death, no danger, no hell; that is, he does not believe any such things, although he is in them over head and ears and is doubly the devil's own. On the other hand, he needs no grace, life, Paradise, heaven, Christ, God, nor anything good. For if he believed that he had so much that is evil, and needed so much that is good, he would not thus neglect the Sacrament, by which such evil is remedied and so much good is bestowed. Neither will it be necessary to force him to the Sacrament by any law, but he will come running and racing of his own accord, will force himself and urge you that you must give him the Sacrament.

Hence, you must not make any law in this matter, as the Pope does. Only set forth clearly the benefit and harm, the need and use, the danger and the blessing, connected with this Sacrament, and the people will come of themselves without your compulsion. But if they do not come, let them go and tell them that such belong to the devil as do not regard nor feel their great need and the gracious help of God. But if you do not urge this, or make a law or a bane of it, it is your fault if they despise the Sacrament. How could they be otherwise than slothful if you sleep and are silent? Therefore look to it, ye pastors and preachers. Our office is now become a different thing from what it was under the Pope; it is now become serious and salutary. Accordingly, it now involves much more trouble and labor, danger and trials, and, in addition thereto, little reward and gratitude in the world. But Christ Himself will be our reward if we labor faithfully. To this end may the Father of all grace help us, to whom be praise and thanks forever through Christ, our Lord! Amen.

It's a Beautiful Imagination!

"I'll play slapjack with you."
"Ok, but we have to play with Lilian and Alyssa, too."
"Who are Lillian and Alyssa?"
"They're my two friends.  See?"  Donna pointed to a black dog beanie baby and a pile of fur.
Sophie looked up at me rather quizzically.  Then returning her attention to Donna, she replied in a skeptical tone of voice, "Lillian ... is ... a tail."

Donna is without younger siblings today, since Joe took the other three littles along to his parents' house to attend a cousin's funeral. 

I was left here with Clara, Sophie, and Donna.  Matt is at his two week annual training for the Marine Corps.  Louisa and Elsie are working nights; so they sleep all day.  It's kind of like a vacation for me.

I was not sure, though, how Donna would do without any other littles.  My kids have never had to be alone, to find things to do to occupy themselves on their own. 

But I needn't have worried with Donna.  She came out first thing on this gloomy rainy morning, dressed in one of the princess dresses.  She had a little beanie baby friend and a tail.  A black fur piece of tail from some preserved animal pelt.  She held up the tail and showed me the "ears" and the "nose."  And introduced me to Lillian. 

Then she proceded to enact all sorts of stories with these friends.  After many other adventures, "they" decided to play slap jack. 

Alyssa won. 

Donna showed me several times throughout the game how thick Alyssa's pile of cards was growing.  She had me look to see how eagerly Alyssa jumped onto the card pile when a jack came up.

Poor Lillian just couldn't compete.  She lay lazily off to the side and did not seem altogether engaged in the game.

Eventually Sophie finished the drawing she was doing nearby.  Apparently She felt bad for Donna having to play slap jack alone, as Sophie naively thought.  And so Sophie offered to play with Donna.

"I'll play slapjack with you."
"Ok, but we have to play with Lilian and Alyssa, too."
"Who are Lillian and Alyssa?"
"They're my two friends.  See?"  Donna pointed to a black dog beany baby and a pile of fur.
Sophie looked up at me rather quizzically.  Then returning her attention to Donna, she replied in a skeptical tone of voice, "Lillian ... is ... a tail."

Sophie was very patient and kindly played with Donna.  And her two friends.  At some point Sophie and Donna decided it would make the game go a little better if each of them "acted" one of the friends.  Apparently Donna had a few extra rules with which Sophie was unfamiliar, because I heard the following interchange:

"What kind of rules do you have?  I've never played with these rules."
"They're the Poptropica rules."

Hmmm.

I got a phone call, and had to leave the room.  But when I returned, Sophie was gone.  But Donna, Alyssa, and Lillian were still playing cards.  This time Go-fish.  It's so fun to watch her asking her friends if they have one or another card, and then she looks at their cards and answers.  And in turn, she asks on behalf of one of the others for some card the friend needs.

Just now Donna exclaimed, "I'm winning!" 

Oh? really?

My OODA loop is broken

I finally have it figured out!  Just exactly what part of my psyche is flawed.  It's my OODA loop.

So yesterday I was in the room as Matt was working on some of his MCIs, ie, mandatory homework/continuing education for the Marines.  I suddenly heard something that made sense.  The normal process of getting things done, staying on top of things, that everyone does, has name and even a lesson for it when you're in the Marines. 

I wasn't sure if this was classified or if it would be disrespectful to write about it, so I did some checking and apparently it's a term that's used widely in the military and even in the civilian commercial and corporate world.  So I guess it's OK to talk about it. 

What's this big super secret discovery?

The OODA Loop

Observe, Orient, Decide, Act and then, Do it again.

We all do it all day long to accomplish our various tasks and responsibilities.  Except I don't anymore. 

My OODA loop is broken.

I can sometimes observe, orient, and decide.  Every once in awhile I can even act. 

More often, though, things get plugged up in my brain between the orient and decide steps.  Especially since this, call it what you will, depression/burnout/adrenal fatigue thing I struggle with started, I just get all muddled. 

I've always had trouble with easily feeling overwhelmed.  I used to be a perfectionist.  So in kind of a spirit of fear, I'd get everything all planned out and then never act on it, because I just knew I'd never get it right. 

But God cured me of perfectionism long ago.  He gave me my first child and then another and another and another.  Kind of a PN loop.  Pregnant, Nursing, and then Do it again thing.  He blessed us so richly with so many children, that simply the busyness of family life cured me of any residual perfectionist tendencies. 

And I survived and even at times thrived during that time. 

But somewhere along the line, the thriving kind of went by the wayside and eventually even the surviving was questionable. 

Obviously we're still here, so apparently we've survived.  But I'm very sure we've not thrived.  But that's where, as I've written many times before, the reliance upon God and His promises, the most important of which is His eternal Grace for our broken natures, comes into play most vividly.  Simply put, we don't thrive in this world without God's grace.  But His power is shown perfect because of our weaknesses.

But I digress.  OODA loop.  I get stuck.  Muddled.  Clogged. 

I can see everything that needs to be done.  But most of the time I can no longer arrange things in my head to know how to tackle anything. 

The orient and decide part of my OODA loop quit working somewhere along the line. 

I can grab a quick job and get it done.  I can do the immediate things pressing on me.  I can do the things my kids or husband ask me to do.  (At least most of the time.)  I can even put in a good day's work if I'm with a group of people, such as down at church working for something.

But for me to maintain my focus, mental acuity, and physical stamina on my own, for any length of time, ... that's what gets me at this point in my life. 

Some days are worse than others.  Some days I have to coax myself out of bed and to just put in an appearance as a Mom. 

Other days I can set a few easy goals that I may or may not accomplish. 

Sometimes I can make long term plans and goals, but they are never suitable.  There's always something else of the more immediate that pops up and changes things.  And in a properly working OODA loop, that's OK.  Because of the loop feature.  The constantly reevaluating and readjusting all the plans.  And doing it quickly enough to still decide and act.

I used to have the flexibility, the mental agility, to continue the loop.  But not any more. 

I simply react to the things that come at me with no forethought or planning. 

And it leaves my family and sometimes others in the community, in the lurch.

At least now I have a quantifiable way of describing the difficulty.  Somehow it seems comforting to know that it's just my OODA loop.  Drat.

Spring challenges, brave children

Each winter, when the snows fall and the temps drop, we review with the kids various winter weather rules for playing outside.  So too, each spring.  We have to make sure the youngest set of kids remembers the nice weather rules.  Suddenly the walls of snow surrounding our yard are gone and the world opens up again.  And that big wide world is begins to call to the kids in new and exciting ways.

I have Alyssa N.'s twins here today to play with Inge.  So there are two four year olds and Inge is five.  They have spend most of the morning outside.

But when they first went out, little did I think to warn them all about "the rules."  I assumed they'd go out to the sandbox, or the playground down at church.  Or to out detached garage.

But no, when I went to find them a few minutes later, to tell them that I was leaving to exercise but that Clara and Sophie were here with them, they were not to be found.

I looked around back, and at the playground, and down along the back side of the church yard.  Clara came out to check the other garage.

I wasn't too worried, since I knew they were around somewhere.  And that Clara would find them and care for them.  But since I wasn't sure where they were, I backed the car out very slowly.  A little foot or so at a time.  I always get extra nervous backing out if I don't know where the kids are for sure.

So I was backing.  And looking all around.  Stopping and looking some more.

By this time Sophie was out, too. 

And we all three, Clara, Sophie, and I saw the kids at almost the same moment.

This one is zoomed in. 

If you enlarge this enough, you can see the kids by the arrow.  Waaaaaay out there.

I remembered then that as the kids were looking out the window, just before they went outside, they were talking about the cat and how she was going out into the field to look for food.

When I later told the kids the rules and explained that they couldn't go out of the yard, little Ellie asked "How come the cat can go in the field?"

And Eli added, "She even goes on the road."

And so I added the extra precaution, "And remember, don't go on the road, either.  Just the yard.  The playground.  The sandbox." 

Agreement all around.  I hope. 

Next time, Matt, go to the base tailor shop

Finished product

I concede defeat.  I don't do that very often.  But either my skill level, or the quality of my thread, or my machine, ... the whole sewing stripes on according to procedure, well, ... I'm honored to do it for my son.  I'm honored that he chooses to serve in the USMC. 

The following is not meant in any disrespect to Matt's service, the service or others, or the Marine Corps itself.  But just considering a wise or foolish use of time, ... those military tailors can probably do a better job in a much shorter amount of time. 

Start with the uniforms.  Matt's hoping to get promoted to Lance Corporal soon, so he doesn't want to sew the stripes on all his uniforms.  But for Easter church, he wants to dress up and that means stripes.

Matt's Charlie shirt, sans stripes

Matt's Private First Class stripes

Finding the right thread

According to MCO P1020.34F  MARINE CORPS UNIFORM REGULATIONS, "Insignia will be   sewn on garments with thread that matches the background material of the insignia using a straight machine stitch. No other style of stitching will be used."

And according to the following diagram, the insignia is to be 4" beneath the shoulder seam and centered on the sleeve. 

Deep breath, Mary, you can do this. 

"Which way to they go, Matt?"  I know that I should no this.  I mean, how many times have I watched military related movies or seen things about the Marine Corps, right?  I should know this.  But even something so simple, I feel clueless. 

"Which way?"  "MOM!"

 "Mom, don't disrespect the uniform."

Finally I had them pinned and the correct color of thread chosen.  I had tested out the machine to make sure it was operational. 

But do you think I could get it to work right on Matt's stripes?  Nope.  At each of the pointy corners, because of the way the stripes are constructed, there are about four layers of cloth, plus the little shiny plastic backing.  And my thread broke every time I got near the corners. 

I did eventually get them on.  I worked on them for about 45 minutes.  But I advised him to take them elsewhere to be put on properly next time.  Because, sadly, the little pointy parts were probably not on very securely.

I really wanted to do this for my son. 

"I can take them into Oklee quilting, Mom, and they can probably do it."

"No, no, Matt.  I can do that.  No problem."

There must be a super secret military grade thread the use or something.  Or maybe it's their magic Marine Corps touch.  But whatever it is, there are others who can do the job more efficiently than can I.  Sigh.

New Carpet Day in the Parsonage

Before.  Ugh!

This is the view (shameful isn't it?) of our outgoing carpet.  I always hated having to move the furniture because then I could see, really, really see, just how dirty and stained and worn and generally icky our carpet was.  I suppose ten kids who use our rug with might and main, over the course of twelve years does wear carpeting, but still.  It's embarrassing.  I've had others point out that normal wear and tear is considered to be an average sized family, and so we shouldn't feel so bad that nothing seems to last as long for us.  But I still feel like our twelve person wear and care seems so destructive of these many temporal blessings.

This is the view of our wonderful new carpet.  And Inge and Sophie enjoying the big open space.  Inge asked, "Mom, can you take a picture of me dancing on it?" 

New!  Beautiful!

I know, you can't really see the carpeting very well here.  But it's a short shag kind of plush, with glints of taupe, slate gray, and cream.  I wish I could find a thumbnail of it on the internet, but I can't.  But you can still see how nice it looks compared to the old one.

This is what the rest of our house looked like today.

The front hallway.

The dining room.  We kept a clear spot with seating for four on one bench on the far side of the second table. 

The bedroom hallway.

The little girls' room.

This afternoon, Sophie, Inge and I rushed off to the K-3 school program and got to watch all the cute littles doing their thing.   After such afternoon programs, we are able to bring all the kids home with us, so we anticipated a nice long afternoon.  We'd be home by 3:30, as opposed to the bus bringing the kids at 5:00. 

On the way home, I explained/exhorted/plead with the kids, "There's new carpet.  Everything is still all over the house.  You may play and jump and run in the empty living room for a few minutes, but I want you to enjoy your long afternoon by spending part of it outside.  DO NOT make a mess or forts or dig through all the things stacked in all the strange places."

But upon arrival home, I found my exhortations largely unnecessary.  My lovely husband; my wonderful daughter, Clara; and son, Matt, after he got home from his long day of work, had moved everything back into it's spot for us.  Only the odds and ends boxes on the kitchen table remained.  What a treat!

Here is where we found Joe when we got home.  Kicking back in front of the virtual fire.  Resting his tired bones.  He told the kids to go warm up their hands. 

Joe, enjoying the new carpet.

But now my furniture looks so grubby. Human nature. Sadly, it's common to us all.

Spring Cleaning 2014

Sometimes I'm organized with my own chores. 

Sometimes I'm organized with my kids' chores.

Sometimes I'm not organized at all.

Sometimes I can't think past each afternoon.

This winter has been one of those times.

I knew, for instnce, in the back of my mind, that in the last month or so,I had two soup suppers for Lent, a baptism church dinner to which I had to bring a GF dessert, and cole slaw to mix up for the electrical co-op annual dinner.  Of those things I've mostly kept the plates spinning, except for the cole slaw which I forgot to mix up and the ladies down at church had to do it for me at the last minute.  Thanks to whoever had to do the extra work.  And my apologies.

I also know in the back of my mind that I have one more soup supper to do; prom coming up, for which Louisa and Elsie have asked me to host the group of friends for lunch and pictures before they go into Oklee.  Within one week in May, I have Clara's confirmation, winkel at Oak Park, and Louisa's graduation. 

The parish board is getting us new carpeting in the living room sometimes soon, so will have the ensuing busyness with that.  And Lana has offered to help with some more painting this spring, if we can work it in. 

I know these things are coming, but when I am at a point at which I can barely handle meals and laundry for the family, ... the extra things get squeezed to the back of my brain.  I know they are there.  And I try to throw everything together at the last minute to accomplish such things.  But I don't always make it.

Today, I took some time to get my head on straight for the coming busyness.  I wrote down all the extra and bigger cleaning type things I want the kids and I to work on in the next several weeks, along with some of the regular-keeping-up-with type things that sometimes get set aside when I'm in one of my low energy states that leave us all flying by the seats of our pants.

For the sake of accountability, I'm going to post it here.

Looks kind of funny squished out long and thin, but it gets the point across.  The kids will be asked to initial those things they accomplish. 

Mudroom bathroom	Main bathroom	kitchen	Dining room	Living room
pick up	pick up	Pick up, sweep, mop	Pick up, sweep, mop	Pick up, vacuum
sweep	sweep	Wipe outside bottom cupboards	Clean and dust inside glass cupboard	dust
Wash counter	Wash counter	Wipe outside top cupboards	window	Wash walls, and hallway walls, front door
Wash toilet	Wash toilet	Clean inside lazy Susan	Scrub walls	Wash windows
Wash walls	Wash shower	Straighten coffee cup and water bottle cupboard	Wipe map	Fix wall behind wooden couch
Mop	mop	Wash and arrange inside silverware drawer	Scrub table legs	Paint wooden couch
Mirror	mirror	Wash and arrange inside utensil drawers- label	Repaint benches	Put pads on back of wooden couch
Toilet paper supply	Toilet paper supply	Sort utensil baskets	Scrub chairs	Order new cushions for wooden couch
Clean towels	Clean towels	Clean /arrange inside upper cupboards	Glue chair	New cushion covers for new cushions for wooden couch
Towel supply	Towel supply	Wipe outside upper cupboards		Move TV to family room
Wash outside of cupboard	Wash outside of cupboard	Scrub wall above counter		Paint shelf
Wash both sides of door	Wash both sides of door	Scrub counter	hallway
	Wash walls	Wash behind oven	Wash walls
		window	Wash front door
		Clean oven	Paint dresser
		counter
		Sort arrange tupperware cupboard
		Sort arrange baking dish cupboard

Wish us well, friends. 

The long dark tea-time of industrial stereotypes

My mind sometimes goes in strange places.  Yes, if you read my blog often, you probably already know that.  But I thought I'd warn you anyway. 

Joe and I really like the movie Joe vs the Volcano.  I, just because it's fun.  Joe, because he collects pop culture trivia like other people collect vinyl albums s or ceramic chickens.  He loves all the references in Joe vs the Volcano, to the old silent classic, Metropolis.  That's a little bit too academic for my movie viewing habits.  After sitting through many conversations with Joe and consequently also with others about the above movies, I can understand the connections between the two.  But even had I been previously familiar with Metropolis I can't say I would have noticed any of it on my own.

But give me a book and I can often find some strange and unusual connections between one book and another.  Sometimes obviously intentional, other times subtle enough it makes one wonder. 

Several years back, I was totally immersed in the fictional world of Stephanie Plum.  If you've been reading my blog that long, you already know this, too, since I blogged about little ideas, thoughts, excerpts, from those books quite often during that time. 

In the Janet Evanovich book, To the Nines, there is a description of industrial labor that reflects the same themes that the above movies highlight.  That kind of sickly green and gray, sea of industrial despond, lemmings following their company, trapped fatalism kind of mood. 

I have a friend who works for GM.  I don't really know or understand what he does except it has something to do with operating the machines that shape the metal parts for some part of some one or several cars.  But when he talks about his job, he periodically uses words like sheet metal stamping and die casting or trimming, or machine tooling.   Such words always conjure up for me industrial/work-a day wasteland stereotypes such as those in Joe vs. Volcano and Metropolis.

The following sections from To the Nines humorously describe this same mood.  Our heroine, the tenacious bond recovery agent, Stephanie Plum, is investigating the disappearance of Samuel Singh, an employee of TriBro Tech, maker of ... well, ... little things.  In order to get some answers, she fills in as a temporary replacement for Singh at TriBro.

    "I'm not even sure what you make here. "  

    "We make little things. Machine-tooled gears and locks. Singh's job primarily consisted of measuring minutia. Each part we supply must be perfect. The first day onboard you wouldn't be expected to know much." He reached for his phone and his mouth tipped into a small smile. "Let's see how good you are at bluffing. "
      Ten minutes later I was a genuine bogus TriBro employee, following after Andrew, learning about TriBro Tech. The gears and locks that composed the bulk of TriBro's product were made at workstations housed in a large warehouse-type facility adjoining the reception area and offices. The far end of the warehouse was divided off into a long room where the quality control work was done. Windows looked into the interior. In the entire facility there were no windows looking out. The quality control area consisted of a series of cubbies with built-in tables, shelves, and cabinets. The tables held an odd assortment of weights, measures, machine torture devices, and chemicals. A single worker occupied each of the tables. There were seven people in the quality control area. And there was one unoccupied table. Singh's table.
      Andrew introduced me to the area supervisor, Ann Klimmer, and returned to his office. Ann took me table by table and introduced me to the rest of the team. The women were in their thirties and forties. There were two men. One of the men was Asian. Singh would have gravitated to the Asian, I thought. But the women would warm to me faster.

      After the introductions and an overview lecture on the operation, I was partnered with Jane Locarelli. Jane looked like she'd just rolled off an embalming table. She was late forties, rail thin, and drained of color. Even her hair was faded. She spoke in a monotone, never making eye contact, her words slightly slurred as if the effort of speech was too much to manage.
      "I've worked here for thirty-one years, " she said. "I started working for the senior Cones. Right out of high school. "
      No wonder she looked like a walking cadaver. Thirty-one years under fluorescent lights, measuring and torturing little metal doohickeys. Jeez.
      Jane hitched herself up onto a stool and selected a small gear from a huge barrel of small gears. "We do two kinds of testing here. We do random testing of new product. " She sent me an apologetic grimace. "I'm afraid that's a little tedious. " She

displayed the gear she held in her hand. "And we test parts which have failed and been returned. That sort of testing is much more interesting. Unfortunately, today we're testing new product. "
      Jane carefully measured each part of the gear and examined it under a microscope for flaws. When she was done, she reached into the barrel and selected another gear. I had to bite back a groan. Two gears down. Three thousand gears to go.
      "I heard Singh didn't show up for work one day, " I said, going for casual curious. "Was he unhappy with the job?"
      "Not sure, " Jane said, concentrating on the new gear. "He wasn't very talkative. " After extensive measuring, she decided the gear was okay and went on to a third.
      "Would you like to try one?" she asked.
      "Sure. "
      She handed the gear over and showed me how to measure.
      "Looks good to me, " I said after doing the measuring thing.
      "No, " she said, "it's off on one side. See the little burr on the edge of the one cog?" Jane took the gear from me, filed the side, and measured again. "Maybe you should just watch a while longer, " she said.
      I watched Jane do four more gears and my eyes glazed over and some drool oozed from between my lips. I quietly slid from my stool and moved to the next cubicle.
      Dolly Freedman was also testing new gears. Dolly would drink some coffee and measure. Then she'd drink more coffee and perform another test. She was as thin and as pale as Jane, but not as lifeless. She was cranked on coffee. "This is such a b#%!t job, " Dolly said to me. She looked around. "Anyone watching?" she asked. Then she took a handful of gears and dumped them into the perfect gear bucket. "They looked good to me, " she said. Then she drank more coffee. 

After another page or two of questioning the employees, while making her way around the room, we return to Stephanie's Metropolis.

      I drifted over to Edgar's table mid-afternoon. Edgar was dropping acid on a small metal bar with threads at either end. One drop at a time. Drip, wait, and measure. Drip, wait, and measure. Drip, wait, and measure. There had to be a thousand bars waiting to be tortured. Nothing was happening. This job made watching grass grow look exciting.
      "We're testing a new alloy, " Edgar said.
       "This seems more interesting than the gear measuring. "
      "Only for the first two million bars. After that, it's pretty routine. "

I love the imagery.  From my writer's eye, this is great stuff.

start with the basics, ... "Machine-tooled gears and locks."

and this one, ... "Windows looked into the interior. In the entire facility there were no windows looking out."  Do we need to know that.  Nope, but it gets into a reader's brain.  Imagine a Vincent Price type voice, "No windows looking out."

and the description of the tools, ... "The tables held an odd assortment of weights, measures, machine torture devices, and chemicals."  Tools one might find in an interrogation room.  Tools that evoke images of pillory and thumbscrews.

then the description of what such an environment does to someone, "Jane looked like she'd just rolled off an embalming table. She was late forties, rail thin, and drained of color. Even her hair was faded. She spoke in a monotone, never making eye contact, her words slightly slurred as if the effort of speech was too much to manage."  And further, "No wonder she looked like a walking cadaver. Thirty-one years under fluorescent lights, measuring and torturing little metal doohickeys."  Remember the green lights in Joe vs the Volcano?  Forever "suck, suck, suck..." -ing the life out of the employees.


And this one.  This is probably my favorite, "I watched Jane do four more gears and my eyes glazed over and some drool oozed from between my lips. I quietly slid from my stool and moved to the next cubicle."

I know I get excited about strange things, but really, just the word combinations in those sentences.  After the drool oozed from her lips, she slid  from her chair.  When we finish the second sentence, we know she was simply getting up to do her investigating thing.  But at the beginning of the sentence, with the words, "I quietly slid from my chair," we wonder for an instant if Stephanie simply slid into a puddle of gelatinous goo on the floor of the plant, never to be seen or heard from again. 

So anyway, here's to you, Dave (and all who work in repetitious jobs.)  I really, really hope your work is not at all like this. 

I think probably most work is not.  I think any work might be.  But no work ought to be.  The image that life loses all value in the industrial or other repetitious setting is an atheistic fallacy.  A temptation of Satan to lead us to discontent or even despair.

Any God-given task that is repeated daily can feel monotonous, whether it's industrial, academic, agricultural, or maternal.  But all are of intrinsic value.  God places us in our many vocations to serve the people in our lives.  To be of service to them.  Ultimately, to share His Word of Salvation with them.  But more immediately, to help and serve them in whatever way we can. 

... Even when our vocational walls feel green and the fluorescent lights of our daily work seem to be sucking the life out of us.

A Few of Life's Little Ups and Downs

It was a good news and bad news kind of day.

1) We started the day today running down to McIntosh to get the car which wouldn't start for Louisa when she got off work last night at 11:00.  (Thanks to the Oklee area co-worker who kindly helped Louisa out last night after having worked a double shift.)  The car has been problematic since the summer, but it's what we have, so we've been trying to nurse it along.  We made the decision that it was no longer reliable enough to trust for her to go back and forth to work all those miles in the cold.  (Bad)

2)  After contemplating all the various things that might have been the problem last night, today the car started with just a little boost from the van via jumper cables.  We took it over to Fosston to the ever capable Dustin and Adam at Carco.  (Good)

3)  Dustin and Adam don't have time to work on it until next week Wednesday.   Our good van is in the shop getting the deer damage repaired, so that left us with the prospect of two drivers with work obligations (Louisa and Joe) and only one vehicle.  Only a kind of, sort of, sometimes functional vehicle, AKA the creeper van, which has really crummy winter tires that scared me all last winter.  Oh, and the headlights only sometimes work if the car warms up first and the door is slammed just so.  Oh, and the gas gauge is shot, we have to use the trip odometer to keep track.  The speedometer isn't accurate.  The heater van hums with a very annoying high pitched hum, until one drives over rumble strips or a railroad track, after which it will run normally for a few miles.  The radio is down to one speaker that rattles like things are falling off the car.  The back seats have holes rusted through the floor in spots.  And once since we replaced the battery the van didn't start.   (Bad)

4)  We have Jeremy's vehicle here which we've been wanting to get into working order before sending it down to him in Granite Falls.  .  Since the car sat outside for over a year, we want a few things checked out.  Hoses and wires and fluids, etc.  Oh, and we're going to have him blow the engine area, to make sure all the leaves and mouse nesting material is off the engine block.  Jeremy cleaned most of it out before he moved, but the wimpy little shop vac we have still left some debris.  We're happy that Scott's able to get it in so soon.  (Good)

5)  But that still leaves us with four services and two work shifts, just tonight and tomorrow, not to mention the ride up to Tami and Jim's in Grygla for Thanksgiving, which we're hoping to be able get to.  And one van.  (Bad)

4)  But we have very generous friends and neighbors who have often come to our rescue.  When I called our friend Lana to see if we could use Brad's older car, she dissuaded us based on the fact that the heater in it is one of those "only occasionally functioning" varieties.  kind of like so many things on the Creeper van.  But Lana generously offered us her almost new and very nice car for a few days.  (Good)

5)  I took Louisa over to get Lana's car and left my purse there.  Duh, I can't figure out why I even took in into the house for the 30 seconds I was there.  (Bad)

6)  In spite of the other commotion and the missing purse, I was still able to get back into Oklee to pick up Elsie in time to get to the chiropractor in  Thief River on time.  (Good)

7)  We ran out of time to get all the way downtown to mail Aunt Aimee's afghan, so she'll have to wait an extra few days.  :-(  (Bad)

8)  In spite of the 155 miles I put on the car today, I still managed to photo copy some stuff for the Sunday School kids for the Christmas program and serve my kids meals at mostly the proper time.  I didn't wipe out on the slick spots on the roads from this morning's snowfall.  And most importantly, we got home in time for Joe to make his 5:00 Mt. Olive church service, with a few minutes to spare.  In fact, we even beat the school bus after we passed it as it was accelerating after stopping at at Alyssa's house.  (Good)

9)  When I got home, Clara had mixed up crust enough for four Gluten Free pies!  Yeah, Clara!  (Good)

10)  And perhaps most exciting of all to my Mommy heart, Aunt Nyla called just after I got home with news of Matthew.  He's officially finished with all the initial Marine Corps training.  He'll be in the Twin Cities tonight at around 9:00.  Nyla's daughter (Joe's cousin) Christina and her husband, Troy, will pick Matt up at the airport tonight and get him to Nyla's.  Joe's parents Jerry and Bergetta will come to their place for Thanksgiving dinner tomorrow, and take Matt home with them where his truck is waiting.  Thank you all for caring for him so well.

On the pursuit of well-being in a sin-filled word

Believe it or not, sometimes, ... yes, even I, ... spout my opinions.  (For those of you who are not frequent readers, that's supposed to be irony.  I'm very, very well-known for spouting.  Loudly.  And when in person, it's often accompanied by wild gesticulations.)

One of the things that sometimes wears on me as a mother is the whole notion of health.  The health of the kids, the health of the mom.  Physical health, Emotional health, Spiritual health, ... I get tired of thinking about health.  

 

There are so many health concerns in the world and so many answers.  To immunize or not?  Which diet is the healthiest?  Which children have which food sensitivities?  Is it chronic fatigue, lyme's disease, depression, hormone imbalance of any number of varieties, insulin resistance, adrenal fatigue, or just what?
 

And after ten kids, and 20 years of parenting, not to mention 40 some years of life in this world, for me, it's all just got to be in God's hands. 

 

I have too much on my plate, and our budget is too constricted to do anything more than what we're doing. 

 

The way I see it, the way the Bible tells us, this is a sinful and broken world. 

 

If it's not one thing, it would be something else. 

 

Way back when, I started researching all this junk for a variety of childhood illness related reasons, (chronic ear problems, ADD type stuff, autism, Aspbergers, skin issues, ...)   And throughout the years different research for myself, ... things like depression, PMS, chronic fatigue, metabolism, etc. 

There are a whole host of ideas out there.  Many good and well researched.  And many cockamamie. Some people have skills and concentration and time and interest to research it all.  I simply do not.  I mean, it's all interesting to me.  And fascinating, too, all the different ways that are outside the mainstream, where people have found relief from one thing or another.

One friend was convinced Jeremy's ear troubles were from yeast (The Yeast Connection). There was the potato/alcohol connection thing someone recommended for dealing with mood swings  (Potatoes not Prozac). 

Treating various illnesses with homeopathy, the science of which claims that the smaller the particle of remedy, the better the result.  And for some things, when combined with about a hundred lifestyle changes, it seems to help.

There's hyper- and hypo- glycemia, glucose intolerance and other metabolic disorders.  Celiac disease, fibro-myalgia, and other auto-immune disorders.  The list goes on and on.  

And at it's core, it's all simply that we live in a sinful and broken world.  Things are WRONG with our bodies.  They are not and will not work right.

And we, as sinful people living in this sinful world, making our way as best we can.  As my friend and mentor Dort P. put it, we muddle through.

By God's grace, our mainstream and alternative medicines sometimes offer solutions that help alleviate the results of this brokenness.  And other times, we suffer along with St. Paul.  We bear the thorns in our flesh.  We must simply live with the problem.  And with St. Paul, God says to us, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.”

Given the same situations, each of us must make our own decisions.  Is it time to do more research and try more things.  Or is it time to bear the thorn in our flesh?  Each of us is different.  Each situation, personality, financial situation, location, ...  We're all different people and will make different decisions.

Sometimes, due to new or different information, a new or different perspective in life, the same person will make different choices at different times.

It's all part of the challenge of living under God's grace, but in a broken world.

It's easy to look back with a new and different perspective, and carry regrets about choices we made in the past.  If only I had known ...  or my son or daughter's life could be so much better, ... or I wish I had tried ...,  or what have you.

And yet we know that by God's grace, according to His wisdom and timing, living under His providential care under the grace of Christ's forgiveness, we chose the best we could for that part in our life.  We muddled through. 

We simply are where we are today.  Each day.  Serving our Lord according to the talents and abilities God has given us.

Sinning as we all do.  Failing to do those things we ought and instead doing those things we ought not to do. 

But also clothed in Christ's righteous wedding garment put on us at our baptism and through faithful use of the Word and Sacrament, we serve God.   Doing the work God lays before us each day.   According to our abilities and interests and choices.

All of us.  We all have broken parts.  Emotionally, physically.  Things that simply aren't right.  We sometimes find one solution, other times another.  And we carry on.  We continue, as we're able.  We fulfill our daily vocations, as best we can. 

And we know we will sin.  We know we will fail.  But we keep putting one foot in front of the other, resting assured in God's Grace that He will most importantly, lead us to heaven in the end; and secondarily use us, broken as we are, to His Glory.

I think I've probably mentioned this passage before, but it's so profound to me, especially with regard to life choices and mistakes, I'm going to write about it again.  It offers great hope for me in those times when I have to question and re-evaluate decisions, past and present.

It's just a little passage, really.  Eleven words in the book of Hebrews. "By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau concerning things to come."  (Heb. 11:20)  Just eleven words.  So terse.  But so full of comfort in this world of sin.

The passage itself doesn't show all of the Bible's truth.  But it reflects a particular concrete example of how God sees us through faith in the righteousness of Christ.

If you  haven't read it in awhile, refer back to the account of Jacob and Esau in Genesis.  Their birth and younger years are recorded briefly in chapter 25, starting at verse 19.  The account of Isaac blessing his sons, is recorded in chapter 27.  Read on to the resolution, which doesn't come until chapter 33. 

God, in His Holy Word, has recorded for us both the good and the bad in His people.  He shows us time and time again that we simply cannot make it on our own.  Even the Biblical heroes fall, time and time again.

In the account of Isaac, Jacob and Esau, our human wisdom sees stubborn old Isaac not wanting to bless his sons according to God's will and His prophecy before the boys were born.

“Two nations are in your womb,
Two peoples shall be separated from your body;
One people shall be stronger than the other,
And the older shall serve the younger.”

We see the treachery of Rebekkah and Jacob, trying to force God's will (which happens to also be their will) to be done.  But through human deception, rather that trusting God's promise and providence.

Later we see the pain of Isaac, when he realizes what he has done.  He's crushed and heartbroken, and angry.   His wife and son have betrayed him.

Esau is filled with bitterness that turns to hatred,

So Esau hated Jacob because of the blessing with which his father blessed him, and Esau said in his heart, “The days of mourning for my father are at hand; then I will kill my brother Jacob.”

Jacob has to flee for his life.

Rebekkah and Isaac must still live together as husband and wife after this great betrayal.

It all seems so wrong.  And it is, indeed a story filled with the tragedy of sinful decisions.

And yet, in Hebrews 11, in the list of Biblical heroes, Isaac is listed among them. 

On account of faith.  "By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau concerning things to come."

By faith, through Christ's righteousness, God declares Esau righteous. 

A hero. 

So to with us.  We will always sin.  Our poor decisions will continue to cause pain to ourselves and others.  But we, too are declared heros.  We stand righteous before God, through Christ.

And not only that.  But also, for Christ's sake, God worked it out in the end for Isaac.  Likewise for us.  He manipulates all our human flubs, somehow, and uses them to His glory. 
 
I can't tell you how those eleven words have brought me comfort throughout the years.  "By faith Isaac blessed Jacob and Esau concerning things to come."

Raising children can seem like such a great and consuming responsibility.  Especially in today's world.  We parents and families today are indulged.  We have the luxury of mostly not having to wonder where each meal will come from.  We mostly don't wonder how we'll cloth our children or where we'll find shelter each season. 

We have time and luxury to worry about things like diet and health, emotional and physical.  And even spiritual.  And in so worrying, we often take too much on ourselves.  We think we are the only ones who can do this.  It's all on us.

Are we making the right choices.  Are we  providing the best.  Are we giving enough.  Are we giving too much?  Are we setting a good enough example.  Are we strong enough?  How can we read the Bible enough?  How do we give our children good morals without making them self-righteous? 

It's ALL ON US!

But it's not.  Not really.  And in reality, this temporal world is all vanity anyway.  Here today and tomorrow cast into the fire. 

It's not all on us, but God.  His righteousness on us.  That wedding garment that we simply wear.

But how, we wonder, how to do that in daily life?

Focus on the ONE THING NEEDFUL.  Put as much effort and time into the temporal well-being of our families as we can each day.  To the best of our abilities.  With the wisdom and resources at our disposal.

And rest assured, every hour, every minute, in the eternal promises of God.  The knowledge that like Isaac, we will screw up.  But in the end, we'll be a heroes.  Heroes who's only act of heroism is the righteous covering given us by Christ.  That covering which allows God to see us as a heroes.