Still LOVE Theater

I'm going to be in another play. This one's called THE RIPPER. It's this weekend. You should come!

THE RIPPER is a new play by Scott Crain based on the "Jack the Ripper" murders of 1888 in Whitechapel. Only three more chances to see it! This Friday, Saturday, and Sunday night: November 11-13. For mature audiences only. Not for the squeamish.

"Gothic steampunk meets Victorian-era London with Scott Crain's macabre adaptation of the Jack the Ripper story. Opening right on the heels of Halloween, the show is decidedly dark but offers plenty of comic relief. Fans of Oracle Productions are likely to detect the thread of redemption Crain weaves throughout his work. Well-written and perfectly priced, The Ripper chills the spine, feeds the soul, and excites the senses."

Obedience and Freedom

While I was mowing the lawn tonight, I began thinking about what "obedience" means. When I read "obedience to Christ" in the Bible, I think my mind equates it with "freedom from sin," but what I really think it means is doing what we feel prompted to do by the Spirit and obeying God even when it seems unusual. I thought of Naaman, for example. He had leprosy, Elisha told him to wash in the Jordan river seven times (pretty unusual), and Naaman refused because "I thought, ‘He will surely come out to me and stand and call on the name of the LORD his God, and wave his hand over the place and cure the leper’" (2 Kings 5:11). Then he wanted to know why he couldn't wash in a different river. When his servants implored him to go back and obey the simple task of washing--rather than some great, nearly impossible task--"he went down and dipped himself seven times in the Jordan, according to the word of the man of God; and his flesh was restored like the flesh of a little child and he was clean" (2 Kings 5:14).

Brian Ban, the pastor of The Anchor Fellowship, was talking today about how we, as a fellowship, have taken for granted the "grace" of God, and have, in essence, ceased to be aware of our sin. "Everything is permissible," he said. (For the context of that verse, click HERE.) During the prayer time at the end of the service, I asked Brian if I could share a short testimony. This is the first time I've ever spoken during a service at The Anchor, and we've been there for two years. But as I stood there, I felt like I was going to throw up if I didn't ask. I was sweating. I was shaking. I wanted to run to the bathroom, but I knew that I needed to obey the prompting of the Holy Spirit. So I asked.

I ended up sharing some pretty intimate information, and I felt incredibly vulnerable. I cried and shook for a while afterward and it took some time to get my bearings. I'm having a hard time wanting to go back. As I told a friend via FB message, it's a little like showing up to church without your clothes on and then expecting everyone not to remember what you look like naked when you come back the following week all dressed again.

In my story, I mentioned an "obedience" experience I had before I got married. I was at a little Baptist church in Clarksville and a lady was singing a beautiful spontaneous song toward the end of the service. All of a sudden, I felt like I needed to throw my hands in the air. Now, if I were to do that, I would instantly be the center of attention since no one else had their hands raised. But I felt like if I didn't do it, I would explode. So I did it. I obeyed.

And something happened.

I don't have a good explanation for it--all I know is prior to that moment, I was a slave to sin. It wasn't a fair fight. After that moment, I was a slave to righteousness (see Romans 6). I had the power to make the right choice in a compromising situation. I no longer felt like I was compelled to sin. All of the energy behind those "choices" had been diffused in an instant, and I felt like I was in control of myself again.

I don't think it's coincidence that the "fruit of the Spirit" (see Galatians 5) includes self-control.

I also think that if we perceive sin as a sickness of the heart, and go after healing instead of trying to work our way out of it, we'll find more success. For me, I think a couple things really helped:

1) I was desperate. I knew that I hated the way I felt about myself and what I was doing, but I didn't know how to stop. When my husband (boyfriend at the time) demonstrated a broken heart instead of anger--when he reminded me that he couldn't control me and that I was in control of myself--I was undone. No manipulation. No punishment. No attempts to control my behavior. Simply unconditional love and acceptance--and sadness for my sin against him. Wow. A couple years later, I read in scripture, "His loving-kindness leads us to repentance" (Romans 2:4). And now I have a better understanding of what that means. I went to God with my desperation and He extended mercy. His loving kindness literally changed my way of thinking--which changed my behavior. He went for the heart. I like that about Him.

2) I had James to stand with me and basically hold me in the refiner's fire (see Malachi 3). I didn't want to be there. I cried nearly every time we went to church. I had absolutely no explanation whatsoever for why I hated it so much. I wanted more than anything to leave. But he wouldn't waver. He said that once I figured out what I hated about it, he would consider going somewhere else. But I was never able to put it into words. And then I started feeling whole again. Healed. As if I had be going through surgery for months and months and then experiencing the pain of being sewn up and recovering and then . . . healing. Freedom. Peace. Wow.

I'm still not 100% healed. My heart still has some sick places--places of wounding and deep pain. And I may never see a fully healed heart as long as I'm living in this body in this fallen world. But that's not going to stop me from more surgery. And more recovery. And more healing. Freedom is kind of addictive. So I keep pursuing it.

"It was for freedom that Christ set us free; therefore keep standing firm and do not be subject again to a yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:1).

My Goals

I'm wide awake from the tea that I drank tonight and my legs are aching from mowing the lawn today, so I thought I'd take a minute to jot down my thoughts.

I've established a few goals recently.

The first one is to read a portion of scripture every day--to myself. Ultimately, this means that I will read the Bible from cover to cover for the first time in my life, but right now, it's a portion of scripture--every day. That's it.

I also plan to read the Bible aloud to Judah this year. When he was three, we read The Beginner's Bible by Karyn Henley, illustrated by Dennas Davis (a good friend!), again and again and again and again. Now I'm reading the Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones, illustrated by Jago, to four-year-old Mira. Judah usually listens in, but his appetite for words has increased dramatically in the past four years, so I'm actually reading the Amplified Bible to him. It has completely captured his attention. At the end of a chapter, he says, "Go on." I love it.

After missing two consecutive days of scripture-reading this week, I realized that I probably need to slow down if I'm ever going to accomplish this goal. Which leads me to goals #2 and #3:

Goal #2 is to teach my children to read this year using Sing, Spell, Read, and Write. Both Judah and Miriam are on the same page developmentally when it comes to letter recognition and letter sounds. They're both beginning to sound out words--Judah a bit more than Miriam, but not much. I'm waiting for a workbook to come in the mail to really get them started, but we've had fun listening to the songs and looking at the chart with the letters and pictures. I love listening to them try to sound out words in the car. Miriam sounded out "jewel" yesterday: JL. :0)

Goal #3 is to work through the Math-U-See Primer with both Judah and Miriam. I'd really like to establish a basic foundation in math and get them both reading simple words before the end of the 2011-2012 school year.

We'll be reading a ton of books, as usual--biographies for history and nature books for science and continuing to look things up on maps and, of course, spending time outside playing in the woods and in the creek, which, by the way, is where Judah found his new pet: a toad by the name of Crossbones. I heard him referred to as Mr. Toad today, though. Judah feeds him cicadas and worms and keeps him in a big tub covered by a cotton sheet. He also takes him out daily for "morning exercises."

We're having fun "doing school," which, I've begun to realize, is as much about personal responsibility and freedom to be creative as it is learning to read and write and do arithmetic. For example, Judah and Miriam both wanted to play with play-dough this week. I kept telling them that we could open the play-dough when the playroom was picked up. I helped them pick up last night and they finished it this morning--including using the vacuum.

They played with play-dough the entire time I mowed the lawn. (Thankfully Nadia slept the entire afternoon!) When they were ready for an afternoon snack, they put the play-dough away and joined me in the living room. Then, it was back to the play-dough.

Before we left tonight to pick up our free Renaissance Fair tickets (yay, Daddy, for winning them!), they put away the play-dough, the puzzles they had been working on, and the blocks that were on the floor. On our way home, they asked if Daddy was going to fill in for them tomorrow as the "dishwasher emptying duo" since we're all heading to RenFest. I LOVE that they are anticipating their work and wondering how it's going to get done if they're not there to do it.

They love to tease me after putting things away. They'll say things like, "There are all sorts of worms and salamanders and port-o-potties and sewers and nasty stuff in the dishwasher. Come look!" Then, when I get there, the run away giggling. I chase after them and tickle them for tricking me. Tonight they said that elves had come and not only threw the puzzle pieces all over the living room, but they also destroyed the puzzles and there were splinters everywhere.

I just re-read "The Moore Formula" (summary below) as a reminder and an encouragement that I'm on the right track by not moving too fast or pushing too hard and allowing my children to think and wonder and create . . . they're still so little. I sometimes wish I could just put them on "pause" for a little while. They're growing up so fast.

THE FORMULA
1) Study from a few minutes to several hours a day, depending on the child's maturity.
2) Manual work at least as much as study.
3) Home and/or community service an hour or so a day. Focus on kids' interests and needs; be an example in consistency, curiosity, and patience. Live with them! Worry less about tests; we'll help you there. With the Moore Formula, if you are loving and can read, write, count, and speak clearly, you are a master teacher.

First, don't subject your children to formal, scheduled study before age 8 to 10 or 12, whether they can read or not. To any who differ, as their evidence let them read Better Late Than Early (BLTE) or School Can Wait (SCW). In addition to our basic research at Stanford and the University of Colorado Medical School, we analyzed over 8000 studies of children's senses, brain, cognition, socialization, etc., and are certain that no replicable evidence exists for rushing children into formal study at home or school before 8 or 10.

Read and sing and play with your children from birth. Read to them several times a day, and they will learn to read in their own time-as early as 3 or 4, but usually later, some as late as 14. Late readers are no more likely to be retarded or disabled than early ones. They often become the best readers of all-with undamaged vision and acute hearing, more adult-like reasoning (cognition) levels, mature brain structure and less blocking of creative interests. Yet late readers are often falsely thought to be in need of remedial help. If you have any doubts about your youngster, have specialists check vision and hearing; possibly see a neurologist. If there are no problems, relax. http://www.moorefoundation.com/article.php?id=5

Sweet Nadia Ruth--a year later

My baby is ONE. If I try to write more, I'll probably cry and never finish this post. Mostly I wanted to get a few pictures up of the little "sugar puddin'" or "sweetie baby" as she is often affectionately called. I LOVE LOVE LOVE that little girl--her sparkly eyes, her pink chubby cheeks, her little baby belly, and those perfectly delicious chubby thighs. I could squeeze that little bit o' squish all day. Right now she's dancing, which began with a musical toy Nana and Papa gave to her at Christmas. Before long, she'll be walking. She's already a professional stair-climber. She can even climb down a few.

For her first birthday, we took her to Dragon Park and then to her mama's favorite dessert spot: Hot&Cold. She shared a honeydew "Las Paletas" popsicle with Daddy. The pictures are of her first and last bites. As you can see from the picture below, she was ready to get on with the rest of her birthday adventure. Oh, sweet Nadia Ruth Todd, I'm so glad you're here.

Judah, this almost 7 year old boy of mine

It's late, but I feel like I need to write. That boy of mine keeps saying stuff that needs to be written down. Those little girls of mine made me laugh tonight with their cute dancing. Miriam put on a CD and Nadia bounced to it while Miriam showed me her new dances. Precious.
THE EGG AWARD
Judah accidentally broke a little award he received last year for his egg decorating skills. When he remembered what the award was for, he admitted that the egg wasn't really award-worthy. Each year the Mulvihills host an egg-decorating contest and I suggested that this year he bring some of his wax with which he makes wax weapons and costumes for his bears and use that to decorate his egg. That would most definitely be award-worthy. "Are you sure, Mom? Do you really think I'll win an award? Do you swear on your honor as a mother?"
BIG AND POWERFUL, MEET SMALL AND FEARFUL
Earlier today some friends came over and when I told Judah who was coming, he said, "Aw, Mom, I don't want him to come over."

"Why not?" I asked.

"He's bossy . . . and he always says, 'I'm older than you,' . . . and he threatens . . . "

"What do you mean, 'He threatens'?" I asked.

"He says things like, 'If you don't do this, then I'll do this. He threatens to take or break my best toys or to hurt me . . . " Judah continued.

"What if you said something like, 'Do you want me to get our moms involved?" I suggested.

"I've tried that. He says, 'Go ahead and tell. I'll just lie,'" said Judah.

"Hmmmm. Well, what do you think the consequences would be if he really did those things?" I wondered aloud.

"Not much! He's a kid! What could they do to him that would possibly be worse than what he could do to me?" Judah had me there.

I asked if he wanted to talk to his friend's mom or if he wanted me to talk to her, and he said yes, he wanted me to do the talking. He didn't want me to send her a text message before they arrived. He wanted me to talk to her in person. So I did. She handled it gracefully, had him apologize to Judah and to me, and afterward Judah seemed like the weight of the world was lifted from his shoulders. I happened to mention wrestling, which gave Judah the idea to tackle his friend (who happens to be only a year older but more than twice his size), so he did. And life went on.

The main reason I'm journaling this is because of his last comment ("what could they do to him?"), which gave me a window into his thoughts and made me laugh a little. I remember that feeling. I'm also thankful for the way my friend handled the situation. In a matter of minutes, the boys were back to wrestling and playing and running around the yard together. It very easily could have been my kid who did the "bossing and threatening." In fact, these are very often Miriam's complaints. Sigh. There's nothing like having someone who's older and bigger and more powerful to remind you how small and how weak you are. I'm really proud of Judah for articulating his feelings and letting us help. The relationship was restored, and that is a beautiful thing.