Contemplations of a Mommy "Monk"

What is true love? I think my beginning understandings of love didn’t really happen until I had been married 3 years. For about the first three years, I still had stars in my eyes and I was really just living in “infatuation” instead of living in the hard reality of true love. Around the third year of our marriage, the perfect image I had for our marriage had begun to fade and I started to see things through a different light. At the end of each day, which was filled with teaching teenagers, grading papers, planning lessons and juggling a little baby girl’s needs with my own, I found it easier to criticize my husband for anything I felt he was lacking. It was around this time that I began to learn the importance of acceptance and affirmation in a marriage. I used to sometimes judge my husband because he wasn’t like the typical “seminary” student. He was uncomfortable in a suit and tie and it didn’t bother him to drink the milk straight from the jug or put his shoes up on the coffee tab...

“The Christian life is a pilgrimage. At times the road is difficult and we get lonely. Sometimes we may get discouraged and consider abandoning the journey. It is at such times that God will place a friend alongside us. One of God’s most precious gifts to us is friends who encourage us and lovingly challenge us to ‘keep going.’ “ By Henry T. Blackaby & Richard Blackaby from their devotional book, Experiencing God When my husband and I were camping in the Black Hills of South Dakota, we took leisurely hikes each day through the canyons and gulches, enjoying the wildflowers and wildlife along the creek beds. One day we decided to follow a trail which lead upward to a beautiful vista. We had no idea what kind of hike we had chosen until we were a little ways up the trail. The sign said that we would travel up 1,000 feet in less than 3/4 mile. Feeling a little blond , I paid no attention. 3/4 mile seemed like a short easy hike. No problem, right? Until we started to walk vertically ....

I've just returned from a week away from all that is familiar. No kids, no home, no friends, no computer, no telephone, no electricity. I was lucky to have well water and a tent to cover my head. And it was wonderful! My lifetime lover and I celebrated our 10 th anniversary in the Black Hills of South Dakota. We camped in the shadow of towering cliffs with the sounds of a rushing creek just feet away. The birds woke us each morning and the golden eagles soared overhead majestically. We went hiking and fishing, breathing in the fresh air and enjoying God's handiwork all around us. It seemed there was something new and delightful around each corner. Wildflowers were abundant and little creatures were friendly. A short hike down into a little canyon led us to this discovery. Spearfish falls was only one discovery in a week filled with similar experiences. Of course, we also experienced thunderstorms all night long, while we sat in a soggy tent. This trip could be labeled, "...

He was a rugged man - his black hair gelled up like a city slicker didn't mask his northwoods roots. His scratchy face betrayed his lack of shaving over the weekend and his love of the outdoors was evident in the black Carhart coveralls, red plaid fleece and camouflage boots. Plowing his way through the snow, he walked with a swagger and a confident air. He was probably looking for a good chunk of snow to ball up and bring into the house to terrorize me. Rugged, confident, and a bit mischievous too! He walked into my life over ten years ago and swept me off my feet. His serious expression and blatant honesty gave a crystal clear view into his heart. He stood out from the others - the posers trying to put on a holy face or the almost feminine submissive type. No, he was sometimes abrasive - not afraid of offending others in pursuit of the truth. He was one hundred percent masculinity: following God didn't mean wearing a tie or acting like a weakling. Being a Christ-follower mean...

Each season is ushered in by unique scents letting our noses be the first perceive the changes coming. Fresh cut pine, cranberries, and ginger create images of Christmas time in our heads - the joy of advent, the chill of winter, and the shorter days ahead. Fragrant hyacinths, tulips and lilies are first to communicate spring to our noses. Summer is filled with the scents of fresh cut grass, ripe tomatoes, sweaty children and watermelons. In the fall, the crisp air smells of dead leaves, pumpkins, cinnamon and ripe apples. But it is neither summer, winter, spring or fall around here. It is HUNTING season. And the fragrances of the season are poignant and memorable. I hung the laundry on the line today....but not before I washed my hands in scent free soap. Not just any old soap, mind you, but the kind that costs extra because it is literally scentless. The blaze orange clothing has been washed in SPECIAL detergent that once again is free of scent. And to make sure all scent has been ki...

"Gentleness is part of being feminine - part of being a woman, and God made us distinctly different from men on purpose!" ~ Melanie Chitwood ~ A mother’s soft touch on a fevered brow, a wife’s sweet kisses and caresses given in love, a friend’s kind hand upon a shoulder….gentleness. A listening ear when we are down, acceptance instead of condemnation, patience and forgiveness for clumsy mistakes….gentleness. Words of comfort for the troubled, words of hope for the beaten down, silence for the weary…gentleness. The 21st century woman knows little of gentleness because it is not valued as a character trait. If you want to get ahead in this world, you will show your strength as a woman, and never portray anything that appears weak. Our very definition of womanhood has changed with the times and it has become quite confusing for women to know how to be feminine. Femininity is wrapped up in this simple word: gentleness. Gentleness is not the opposite of strength. Being a g...

It’s that time of the year again. No, I’m not talking about the glorious brilliant colors gracing the maples or the fresh red apples or even the Sunday afternoons spent cheering a favorite team. It is bow hunting season – the time of year my lifetime lover anticipates all year long. He goes out in the dead of winter to look for tracks and other sign of the big bucks in the woods. In summer he goes stir crazy because the ticks prohibit his exploration of his beloved woods. By the beginning of August he’s about ready to wear a hole through the contoured map of the area, but somehow he manages to wait those excruciatingly long days until the season opens in September. So now the anticipation is over and the journey has begun. He will spend his Saturday and Sunday evenings sitting in the tree stand searching for his prey. It brings him great pleasure and even though I don’t completely understand the allure of hunting, I don’t begrudge him this hobby. To make this journey a bit smo...