Mommy a pwincess 1

It is too late at night! Another one of those late nights, lying in bed, waiting for my thoughts to slow down. I do not often get a good night sleep on Saturday nights. All of the sugar from Sabbath fellowship goes through my veins and keeps my mind racing and my heart pumping. I guess I will take advantage of the energy and share a testimony, as I said before, I have many.

10 years ago my husband interviewed for a youth pastor position at a conservative Anabaptist church. I live in Northern Indiana and there is a pretty large community of Anabaptist; Mennonites, Amish, ect. This particular church, the church of the Brethren, came out of Germany around the same time as the Mennonites and settled in Pennsylvania. There are a few distinctives in Anabaptist believers. For the most part, we are pacifist, we try to live simple lives, we are less evangelical and the outward appearance is pretty important, not in a vain way but in a pious way. One of the most obvious forms of our outward expression comes right out of 1 Corinthians 11, a little hat that the ladies and sometimes children, wear on their head.

The Amish have been very good about trying to stay true to there pious garb and for the most part they set themselves apart from the rest of the world. The Mennonites and the Brethren have gone much more main stream and have become more liberal in their thinking. Many  ladies  have thrown out their dark shapeless dresses for fashion and have tossed there little hats, or coverings, for short goofy haircuts. This was done to appeal more to the masses, in hopes that they might grow.  Also, because they were tired of living under the thumbs of the men in  churches. We found the Church of the Brethren through a very liberal church and only saw the head coverings come out a couple times a year at communion. But in the church Larry interviewed, they wore them every meeting.

It was different that this new church wore a covering but I guess it was Biblical. I was trying very hard to follow the Bible, I knew very little but I knew if the Bible said so and theologians agreed, I needed to do whatever it took to be a good Christian. I have always been strong willed and I told my husband that I wasn't sure about those silly things. I also told him there was no way I was wearing one just so he could get a job. I would really have to pray and read and feel lead that it truly was scripture and not just a tradition.

So I prayed and read in my immaturity.  I felt that it was truth and that it needed to be done. It was a good thing I came to that conclusion because Larry was offered the job.  Now it would be expected of me. In the mean time, we still had about 3 months in the current church he was serving. This church did not practice the covering, in fact, there were some that were very much against wearing it. They had seen many woman oppressed and abused in the name of the covering. They must submit, it is all about submission right?......no, but I'll speak to that later.

So what do I do in this three month transition period? It was December when I had the revelation to wear covering. I did what any "mature" Bible believer would do... I decided to make it my News Years Resolution to wear my head covering every Sunday morning. No matter what church I was attending.  I'm pretty sure that is how it was commanded in the Bible.  Don't worry about the rest of the week when you are not around church people, wear your covering every Sunday morning.  1 Hypocrite 1:1  

I was pretty close with the kids in the youth group at the church, I told them my conviction and told them that no matter what, come January first, I would start this practice of covering my head. Well the first Sunday in January came, then the second. One of the young girls, to whom I shared my conviction, asked me in a meeting why I wasn't wearing my covering.  I told her that I chickend out, I was afraid of the reaction I would get from the others at church.

Do you know what this 17 year old girls loving response to me was? .....let me see if I can remember all of what she said.  It went something like this.....BOOOOOOOO!! She booed me, not because she believed in the head covering but because I did not follow through with a conviction, even after making it known to others. She was so right, I love that girl.

This blog could go on forever, and it just may. I have so much to say on this topic....

to be continued...

Everyday is the first day of the rest of my life...

It is 10:30 Friday morning, and I really should start preparing for Sabbath. Everyone in the family gets excited about the Sabbath, even the baby. Sunset was one of his first phrases. Everything will stop in the Rice home about 6:30 this evening. I only have a few hours to get this place clean, cook a turkey, and make some challah. 
But....

I had to stop this A.M. and put some thoughts down.

Last evening my husband had the last of many meetings. Five years ago the meetings started, and Larry has been singled out for one reason or another. He has been put in the position to defend his beliefs and his God to, who else, other "believers."  My mind spins and my heart aches for so many reasons. How could a pastor and mentor hatefully slander someone he once called brother? How could a district of churches, who desperately need young people, and who just as desperately, need educated pastors, turn down a young zealous man with a large young family? A man who, while working a professional job, pastoring a small church, and totally renovating a house, graduated cum laude with 2 masters degrees? I just don't understand....

What does YHWH say about this:

Barbra, who are you to question My motives? who are you to second guess My plan? Do you think you could do a better job with your life than your Creator? Who are you....you are My child. I wove you together in your mother's womb. I know your thoughts before you speak them. Stop wiggling and fighting in My arms and calm down, trust Me. I've got you and as long as you will let me, I will carry you through this.  Rest peacefully in my loving arms.  My sweet child, you don't have to understand, just trust.  Oh..... and my arms are big enough to cradle your faithful husband too.  He knows this, that is why he is at peace. Now, get the house together so that you can enjoy my gift to you, my Sabbath.  I look forward to being with your family this evening' and I will give you the strength to get your work done today. You know that' sweetie? I love you so. Get going....it isn't Sabbath yet.

Well, it is 4:30am, and the house is really quiet. I made sure I shut the door to our bedroom so that the sound of my typing wouldn’t wake anyone.

I was awakened by my little dog,and his long nails lighting tapping on the floor.   It is the faintest sound, but in the middle of the night, it might as well be a gong. I wake up with him almost every night.  If I let the tapping go I‘m sure to find a puddle in the morning. Sometimes I feel like I have a baby again.

It is no good that I am up this early. I used up my last bit of coffee yesterday so I don't know how I am going to function come 10:30am. Maybe I could scrounge up a dollar and take my kids to play a McDonalds. I have a friend I could call.  Maybe she could meet me there, and we could spend the morning sipping coffee and chatting about our woes.

I will likely sit there by myself, staring at the people. I'll watch the workers behind the counter franticly filling orders. I'll watch the older lady that wipes down the tables and straightens the ketchup and sugar. I'll watch the old man with his coffee and biscuit reading the paper. I'll wonder about him. Is he lonely? Does he go to McDonalds for company , to get away, or to get his fill of coffee so that he can have the strength at 11:30am to stop the two year old from shoving toilet paper in the toilet.

I just heard a yelp from the back room. Mom! My typing has woke someone up...maybe I should come back to this later and for now go watch some infomercials...

Well, it is a few days later and I was able to get together $2.00. Enough for coffee and cookies, one for each child. The children happily played with the others in the playground, mostly toddlers, any older ones would have been in school.

I was surprised at how packed the place was at 11:00am. There wasn't just one old man sipping his coffee.  There were 15.  You could tell they met there regularly. Some of them had their wives along. They all seemed happy, and it was a blessing to watch them laugh.

I took my Bible with me. I do that often, take my Bible thinking I will read it while the children play. But the fact is thatI never open it. I am way too interested in what everyone else is doing. It is impossible for me to tune out a crowd of people to read, or do anything. I secretly want to be part of their lives. I want to know how they live.  I want to know if they are married, or what job their husbands have. Surely, they would have to have pretty good jobs for all of the children to get a happy meal.

I feel so blessed that I have four beautiful and smart children. I feel doubly blessed, no matter the price, to be able to stay with them all day.

Sometimes I feel sad that our parents miss out on all of the amazing things they do. Amazing things like Mati trying so hard to eat with chopsticks, or Eli telling one of his incredibly creative stories. I guess I just need to come to the reality that even though I want the world to think my children are amazing and to see them grow, maybe God has given that just for me and Larry to cherish.

If I could save time in a bottle there would never be enough space to hoard all of the memorable moments, and I'm only a third of the way through my life.

I have many sorrows and regrets, but they are totally overshadowed by the snapshots of joy that define my family.

Oh, God.......... thanks.

Poems from my family

. 
A poem from Eli:

I like my belly, belly.
I like it really well.
I like my belly, belly.
It makes me look swell.


A poem from Wynnie:

Yeshua, Yeshua
Yeshua is king.
Yeshua, Yeshua
King of everything!


A poem from Lily to Wynnie, written last year for her birthday.

Tomorrow is Wynnie's birthday. I hate to brag, but it is true.
I can't wait. How about you?

We will probably have cake and ice cream.
I hope I can get her a present.
Maybe some made many,
But I don't know how much I will get her because, I only have a penny.

Her favorite toy is littlest pet shop. There are dogs and cats,
Some even have hats.

Canaan is Wynnies favorite game. Canaan comes from the Bible.
She wins almost every time.
It is her favorite game, but I know it's not mine.

Wynnie is the best sister,
I could never have one like her.
I thank God every night for giving me a sister like her.

Happy Birthday Wynnie, love Lily.


A poem from Larry. This was written before we had children and before we knew the truth about secular holidays. (Although, I'm pretty sure St. Patrick kept the Sabbath.)

Barbra

When the sun is darkened, and the moon turns red,

then shall we see Jesus, coming overhead.

We shall stand together, if it be our Lords will,

listening to the trumpet sound, as we be still.

Then being changed, in the twinkling of an eye,

going hand in hand, to meet Him in the sky.

Finally, shall we stand, before His glorious face,

forever to behold, His true mercy and grace.

For now we pray, that our children, be there too,

waiting to hear them say, "Jesus, I love you."

Oh, how I long to be called from above,

For then I shall give thee, a more perfect love.

Happy St. Patrick’s Day

Love forever, Larry

My husband is a hospice chaplain. I hate to acknowledge this, but he is gifted in giving compassionate and beautiful funeral services. I've been there to hear him speak at many. His words certainly have a way of comforting the family. He is perfectly suited for the job God has given him. Perfectly....except, that the job drains him so. As an introvert he is totally exhausted by comforting others all day long. I feel like the children and I are the only ones who think to comfort him. That is, after we have asked him to meet all of our needs.

Larry's family has been gifted with poetry. My children must have a little bit of that gift. I am useless at writing poems. Poetry is something I think is kind of....magical. People like Larry and others I know that can effortlessly write a poem are a marvel to me.

I know that poetry is not a gift God has given me. I am totally ok with that. I don't have to write poems, just appreciate them

My Symphony by William Henry Channing

Lily came home today with Homework. Her assignment was to pick out a book at home that she liked and take it to school to read to some kindergarten children. I have quite a few children’s books, but because I didn't read much to Lily as a baby, she couldn't pick which one was her favorite.

As we thumbed through the bookshelf I came across a lovely book illustrated by Mary Engelbreit. M. E. is my mothers favorite artist. "Lily, Grandma gave you this book when you were born. I used to read this one to you."  Lily looked at the book, read the inscription, and said  "Mom, this isn't my book."  "What!" I said.  I grabbed the book from her and this is what the inscription read:

To Barbra,
I love you so very much. As you read this book, let it be your symphony to share with your children.
Love, Mom Dec. 1998

This was a timely find. The other day I told my mother that she had never written anything nice to me, I guess I was wrong.

Here is the poem:

To live content with small means;

To seek elegance rather than luxury,

and refinement rather than fashion;

To be worthy, not respectable;

and wealthy, not rich;

To study hard,

Think quietly,

Talk gently,

Act frankly;

To listen to stars and birds,

To babes and sages, with an open heart,

To bear all cheerfully,

Do all bravely,

Await occasions,

Hurry never.

...To let the spiritual, unbidden and unconscious,

Grow up through the common.

This is to be my symphony.

Thanks Mom, I love you.

I expect you to be sensible...what is wrong with that?

I've been told recently by someone close to me that I expect too much from my relationships with others, and that my views are unrealistic.  I am very much someone who wears her heart on her sleeve. There is no question with me.  You get what you see. I'm not a very private person (sometimes to the chagrin of my husband.) I'm very open with my failures. If I'm happy to see someone they know it.  If I've been hurt I suspect they know that too.

I think it is true that God gave us others to help with the hard journey that is our life. Why is it then that the very people God has given us to help end up making things more difficult. God put us all here to be an example to someone. I know that I have to be an example to younger mothers, young believers, and especially to the children God has entrusted to me. I know that they will look to me for most everything.  I will be an example to them until the day I die. I pray my children will look to me as a blessing in their life and not someone that adds to their burdens.

I have searched for people to be an example to me my whole life. I am a teachable person. I want to know how to live life well. I have a person in my mind that I want to be, and I look for people to show me how to be that person.

I have learned many things over the past few years by piecing together tidbits of different people. This last weekend I intently watched a lovely woman eat an orange. She ate pieces of that orange that I never thought to eat. Today, as I peeled my orange, I ate some of the peel. It was yummy.  It was not sweet but full of flavor.

I am a people watcher. I would be very happy sitting in a mall or public area staring at people all day. I like to imagine what things are like for them at home. I like to admire the way they dress.  And, I laugh at silly things some of them may do. Many times my heart will break for them; the exasperated mother.  The lonely child. I always seem to  identify with them in some way. A lot of times I just want to help. I hate seeing other people suffer, even if it is slight.

So back to my expectations of people...hmmm,

I expect a friend to be cautious of your feeling and not ignore your hurt.
I expect a mother or father to put aside themselves and their luxuries to provide for their children....kids first.
I expect a pastor to care more about my spiritual being than his own recognition.
I expect a boss to be fare.
I expect my children to listen and do what I say, as long as it is reasonable.
I expect that when someone gives me something it is because of my need and not because of their need to feel appreciated.
I expect a teacher to teach.
I expect to feel wanted and welcomed when someone invites me to their home.
I expect a person who claims to follow Jesus example, to follow it.
I have other expectations but really,  are these that unrealistic?  I pray not.

Passage on my heart:
Older men are to be temperate, dignified, sensible, sound in faith, in love, in perseverance. Older women likewise are to be reverent in their behavior, not malicious gossips nor enslaved to much wine, teaching what is good, so that they may encourage the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored. Likewise urge the young men to be sensible; in all things show yourself to be an example of good deeds, with purity in doctrine, dignified, sound in speech which is beyond reproach, so that the opponent will be put to shame, having nothing bad to say about us. Urge bondslaves to be subject to their own masters in everything, to be well-pleasing, not argumentative, not pilfering, but showing all good faith so that they will adorn the doctrine of God our Savior in every respect. For the grace of God has appeared, bringing salvation to all men,
Titus 2: 1-11

I'm happy...I pray you are too!

Well, it has been a month since I started this blog. When I first started I thought I would have something to write everyday. Writing everyday isn't a reality, but that is ok.  I'm not sure if all of you out in blog world would care to read something posted from me everyday.

I am settling into 34. Eating much more healthy and exercising more often. I have been reading through Samuel and Kings in the Bible. I'm really interested in understanding the history better. I hope to read through the Bible this year,but I refuse to start in Genesis. Larry and I had the opportunity to have two beautiful Irish sisters in our home a few years back. One of the girls pointed out to me that many Christians have read through Genesis many times.  She noted the reason to be that  anyone wanting to read through the Bible "proper" as she said, will start with Genesis first and often give up before the end.

 I really enjoy the relationships God has given me, and I am getting old enough for exciting reunions with past friends. I forgotten how many I have accumulated over the years.

My children are a constant joy in my life. My Lily is growing into a beautiful young lady. She is officially taller than me.  She measures 5ft 1in. The other day, the principal of her school singled me out and told me what a fantastic child I have and how she is such a joy to have around.

Eli is always surprising me with his wit. He is always saying  funny, thoughtful things. He came into the kitchen the other day to tell me a joke.  "Mommy, what singer celebrates April Fools Day? Peter Fooler. " That is funny if you are a Newsboys fan. He can join any conversation with an anecdote from Spongebob and every once in a while surprises me with a kiss.

My Wynnie is a doll. Her 2 front teeth are nearly grown in. She is reading really well, and she loves to do her school work. Her baby brother looks to her often for help, and her big brother looks to her for a play buddy.  They are two peas in a pod. I look to her for a sweet smile, and she never lets me down.

Mati...well...he is two, and he is a stinker. He does the naughtiest things; However, he is so cute doing them that he rarely gets punished. He left a lovely mural for me on my living room wall. (Just an FYI that a Mister Clean Sponge will not get red dry erase marker off of a yellow wall.) He wakes up at 6:30 to "get to work." I'm awakened by the flick of his light switch and his little feet scampering across the floor. He never fails to find the loudest toy in his toy box to play over and over again, about 100 times before I am able to roll out of my comfy bed.

My dog is peeing all over the place and, as Forest Gump would say, "that is all I have to say about that."

Larry is my life. I find myself daily day dreaming about him.  I dream about the past we have shared and the future to come. I can't express how important he is in my life.  I'm so in love.

So that is where I am right now.  It is not perfect, but it is heading in a good direction. I'm happy!  I pray you are too!