Then one day I came across 2 Timothy 3:16: “All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness.” Those words reminded me of how stubborn I am with assembly instructions. But I also realized that I was the same way with some spiritual matters.
Since the authors of the Bible were inspired by God Himself, Scripture is the next best thing to having a one-on-one talk with Him. The Bible is our instruction manual for life.
Realizing my challenge with instructions and the “head knowledge” I gain when I read them, I had fresh incentive to read and study the Bible for “heart knowledge.”
From Cindy
I love writing. I love spending long days and nights in my home office with the window open and research books all around me.
I’m an introvert, and I’ve heard that most fiction writers are. Being introverted is not the same as being shy, although shy people are often introverted. An introvert draws strength from quietness and solitude. An extrovert draws strength from get-togethers and other people-oriented events.
The first time I realized how much of an introvert I am, I was seventeen and on a first date. I had taken the time to straighten my long hair and do my nails and makeup and had even bought an especially nice-looking outfit. Our plan was to meet up with a group of friends at someone’s home and have pizza. When my date asked if we could go to a drive-through for dinner instead, I felt tremendous relief wash over me.
Prior to that I’d often avoided going out, usually with the excuse that I wasn’t “pulled together” enough. But at that moment it became clear to me that even at my best, I preferred quiet seclusion. I was a true introvert.
After going to the drive-through, my date and I went for a long, quiet stroll in a nearby park and tossed breadcrumbs to the ducks. The only way I would have enjoyed that night more was if I’d been alone with a pen and a journal.
So writing sounds like a good career choice for me, right?
Yet after my books appeared on several bestseller lists, I found myself thrust in front of cameras and microphones, including some national media. If that wasn’t enough against my natural grain, I felt I should accept some of the invitations to speak at churches.
At this point you should feel sorry for my husband, who loves my quiet temperament, especially during football and baseball season. But if I can’t sleep because of an upcoming interview or speaking engagement, or if I’m walking around mumbling to myself because I’m displeased with how an interview went, he’s the one who has to deal with my angst and try to help me through it.
Whether you’re introverted or extroverted, being challenged is part of life. Following God wherever He leads is the only path to true success. How we look, feel, or sound while following Him has nothing at all to do with success. All He asks is that we follow as He leads and leave the results up to Him.
THE SHAPE OF TOMORROW
THE DAADI HAUS (THE GRANDFATHER HOUSE)
My youngest son and I had visited the Flauds several times before my husband went with us. I knew Miriam’s husband and mine would have a lot to talk about. In spite of their numerous differences, Daniel and Tommy have a good bit in common—both know about construction, farming, and raising sons.
Daniel’s family trade is timber framing, an intricate skill of taking square timbers and building a frame in a way that supports an entire building without nails, bolts, or screws. Instead, wooden pegs are driven into tightly fitted joints. This is part of the Old Ways the Amish fathers have passed on to their apprenticing sons for generations, begun before nails, screws, and bolts were easily accessible and affordable through mass production. Timber framing is used for houses, barns, and even modern office buildings. It’s been said that timber framing is as strong as a steel structure.
For the Amish, getting older means more honor and less work. Daniel’s father now lives in a Daadi Haus (grandfather house) next to Daniel and Miriam. A Daadi Haus may be attached to the main house belonging to one of the adult children, or it may be a small home near the main house. A grandfather house is usually much smaller than the home the couple had when they were raising children, which makes it easier to clean.
Many Daadi Hauses have been passed down for generations. If there’s not one already in the family, then after the children have families of their own, they build separate living quarters for the grandparents. The homes usually have kitchens so the grandparents can prepare their own food. The grandparents are close enough to join the others for a family meal, but they enjoy running their home and preparing their own meals.
The Amish appreciate the need for families to have their own space, but the elderly are highly respected, and they ease into retirement by carrying less responsibility without giving up all work-related duties. Some Amish never retire. They simply have a shorter workday. When an aging parent needs help, the younger generation lives close enough to lend a hand while tending to their own families.
Regardless of how some feel about living such a unique life, the wisdom and grit to change only when necessary—and never for the sake of convenience, entertainment, or ease of living—has equipped the Plain people to hold on to a lifestyle they believe in. Generation after generation, young people have decided to keep the Old Ways. While Englischers sit in classrooms through high school and sometimes college, young Amish men and women are working as full-time apprentices for employers who try to avoid ever having to lay them off or fire them. They remain focused on family, working in or taking over the family business, starting a family of their own, and eventually moving into a Daadi Haus of their own.
From Miriam
My mother-in-law and father-in-law live in the Daadi Haus next to us. I can prepare this simple recipe for them while cooking a meal for my family, or Mammi (pronounced “mommy”) Flaud can easily fix this for the two of them.
SCALLOPED POTATOES FOR TWO
2 potatoes, cooked and sliced
1 tablespoon butter
1 tablespoon flour
1 cup milk
1 teaspoon sour cream
¼ cup chopped onion
¼ cup chopped green pepper
1 teaspoon onion powder
dash each of salt, pepper, garlic powder, and parsley
Velveeta or cheddar cheese
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Put the potatoes in a small, greased casserole dish. Melt the butter in a saucepan over low heat; stir in the flour, add milk, and cook, stirring until thick. Add the sour cream and stir. Add the onion, green pepper, and seasonings. Pour the sauce over the potatoes, and top with cheese. Bake uncovered for 30 minutes.
The recipe on the following page is often used if older parents haven’t been eating much but need some sustenance. I take this same recipe to new moms; it’s delicious and high in protein.
EGG CUSTARD
4 cups milk
8 eggs, beaten
¼ teaspoon salt
1 cup sugar
2 teaspoons vanilla
1 tablespoon cornstarch
¼ cup cold milk cinnamon
Heat 4 cups of milk almost to boiling. Mix together the eggs, salt, sugar, and vanilla; stir this mixture into the almost-boiling milk. In a small bowl, mix together the cornstarch and cold milk to make a runny paste; stir into the milk and egg mixture. Pour into a glass baking dish, and sprinkle with cinnamon.
Place the glass dish in a shallow baking pan, and add water to halfway up the side of the glass dish. Bake at 325 degrees for 1 hour or until custard seems firm.
LOOKING FOR ANSWERS
For whatsoever things were written aforetime were written for our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope.
—ROMANS 15:4
From Miriam
The clock ticked loudly as I sat in our one-room school, observing the class. The students worked quietly as the teacher juggled all eight grades at once.
I had just served them all a hot lun
ch. The mothers had been taking turns bringing in hot meals once a week during January, February, and March to help ward off the winter blues. We did this as much for the teacher as for the children.
As I settled into my chair for an hour of relaxation, the teacher brought me her guest book, a large spiral notebook that all visitors were asked to sign. It was filled with artwork done by the students along with an introduction sheet for each child, describing who their parents, grandparents, and siblings were, their favorite subjects, and their favorite foods. The book also revealed what the students wanted to be when they grew up. One boy planned to be a fireman, another a policeman. Most wanted to be farmers or carpenters like their dads.
Most of the girls wanted to be teachers. A few hoped to tend a market stand. One little girl wrote that all she wanted to do was be a mother. That caught me off guard. Tears blurred my vision as I remembered something I’d read once:
The most important occupation on earth for a woman is to be a real mother to her children. It does not have much glory to it; there is a lot of grit and grime. But there is no greater place of ministry, position, or power than that of a mother.—Phil Whisenhunt7
There is only one emotion greater than the love of a mother for her newborn. That’s the love God has for us, His children. Can anyone, even mothers, begin to comprehend such a great love? A mother’s love protects her children. God’s love gave His only Son to die. If you ever feel as if no one appreciates you or as if you are being taken for granted, think about how deeply you love your children.
Then imagine God loving you more deeply, more powerfully, perfectly—because He does.
From Cindy
One of my books, The Hope of Refuge, shares the story of several moms—their strengths, weaknesses, joys, and sorrows. I dedicated the book to my children because each one woke a different part of me, even before I felt him move inside me. When I held each son in my arms, it seemed my very DNA shifted. Without conscious effort each one stirred me with a challenge to be his mom—to become more than I ever was before.
I found strength where weakness had once been. As they grew, they stumbled on weaknesses of mine I hadn’t known existed. But because of them and the love I had for them, I discovered that life had unexpected joy. And I learned that where I ended—where my strength, wisdom, and determination failed—God did not.
It’s hard to know the best choices to make on a child’s behalf—much less to muster the energy, means, and desire to carry out whatever seems to be best. While struggling under the load of everything I was unable to give my children, I learned an important truth: if parents could give their children all that their hearts desire—if we could fill every need they have—they wouldn’t need God.
Parents are simply grown-up children. Our powers are limited. But through our faith and prayers, God can fill every gap. And in the process, our children will grow in their own relationships with Him. But while all that is taking place, we get the pleasure of watching them grow and learn and become their own person.
THE GIFTS OF CHILDREN
Lo, children are an heritage of the LORD: and the fruit of the womb is his reward.
—PSALM 127:3
From Cindy
From the time my boys were little, I loved doing crafts with them during the holidays. I’d pull out all sorts of items I’d picked up from yard sales or bought on sale throughout the year and let them create. The mess was well worth it when they excitedly held up their masterpieces. As they grew older, their interest in doing crafts began to fade, but I held on to my Christmastime tradition as long as I could.
One Christmas craft they enjoyed for a long time was making dough ornaments. (I’ve shared the recipe below.) After the holidays you can pack them away with the rest of the ornaments, and every year when you pull out that box of decorations, you’ll have a delightful time recalling fond memories.
We had other traditions throughout the year—fireworks and swimming on the Fourth of July, carving pumpkins in the fall, staying up late playing games on New Year’s Eve, making special candies and cards on Valentine’s Day, hosting Super Bowl celebrations and family birthday parties. But as my sons became teens, they no longer looked forward to our family traditions.
Gathering teenagers to make memories takes an extra bit of creativity (and patience!), regardless of the season. My solution to extending their joy of making something Christmassy was to use food as the craft time. I allowed them to decorate their own gingerbread-men ornaments—one year it was a demolition gingerbread man with a jackhammer in his hand. Other years I let them create gingerbread houses and then munch on their little homes as the holidays progressed.
Whatever your kids’ ages, be imaginative and free spirited in your family traditions. They’ll love you for it … eventually.
DOUGH ORNAMENT RECIPE
4 cups all-purpose flour
1 cup salt
1½ cups warm water
Mix flour and salt. Slowly add warm water, and stir to form a stiff dough. Press dough to about ⅛″ thick, and use cookie cutters to cut out ornaments. Add ornament hooks to the top before baking. Bake at 325 degrees until ornaments have hardened, about 50 minutes. Cool. Decorate using acrylic paints. You may wish to coat them with shellac to help preserve them. (If your kids want to eat the decorations, use an edible recipe and frosting instead of paint. And be sure to skip the shellac!)
From Miriam
When my daughter, Amanda, was about seven years old, she seemed to be constantly underfoot. I never made much headway in the housecleaning with her around.
One day, in an attempt to channel her overabundant energy, I asked if she’d like to bake a cake for her brothers. To my relief she responded with interest. I set out all the utensils, measuring cups, bowls, and ingredients she would need, told her to follow the directions on the box, and instructed her to call me before putting the batter into the oven.
From the time Amanda had been old enough to push a chair up to the counter, she’d been at my side while I baked, watching and helping me. So by now I trusted her with the task.
I hurried upstairs in hopes of getting some work done. I had barely started when Amanda called up to me. I walked to the top of the stairs. “What is it?” I asked as patiently as I could.
“How many cups of the cake mix do I use?”
“All of it, dear.”
“Okay,” she said. “This must be a big cake.”
All was quiet for some time, and I accomplished a lot. When my little girl called me to help her put the cake into the oven, I tried not to notice the messy kitchen or the bits of eggshells in the bottom of the bowl. Most of them clung to the sides as we scooped the cake batter into the baking pan. This time it was my treat to lick the bowl.
Later, as her brothers ate the cake, they found more eggshells, along with the plastic Amanda had snipped off the top of the bag and a piece of the box. That’s my enthusiastic girl! But with five brothers, she will never live it down.
Today she works at a bakery two days a week and can make a recipe like the one below without any inedible items jumping into the bowl.
CHOCOLATE COFFEE CAKE
1 box chocolate cake mix
1 box instant vanilla pudding mix
1 cup vegetable oil
4 eggs
1 cup water
Mix all ingredients together. Pour half of the batter into a 9″ × 13″ cake pan. Then mix the topping ingredients, and sprinkle half of it on top of the batter. Then repeat the layers.
Topping:
1 cup brown sugar
2 teaspoons cinnamon
1 cup nuts
1 cup chocolate chips
Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Bake for 40 minutes. The usual methods of testing a cake for doneness are inserting a clean toothpick, touching the top lightly, and seeing if the sides of the cake have pulled free of the pan, but those don’t work well on this cake because of the gooey chocolate chips in the center and on the top.
OPPOR
TUNITY FOR THE TAKING
Do not withhold good from those who deserve it, when it is in your power to act.
—PROVERBS 3:27, NIV
From Miriam
Loretta, an English friend, was diagnosed with colon cancer and immediately had emergency surgery, but the prognosis wasn’t good. She’d always loved my homemade vegetable soup, so after she came home from the hospital, I made a batch and took it to her. We had a lovely visit, and as I left her house, I decided to maintain communication with her while she recuperated.
We stayed in touch mostly by phone, and she kept me posted on her condition. She recovered from the surgery and began chemo treatments.
As time went on, I became busy with gardening, canning, yard work, and tending to my small craft business. When my two school-age children went on summer break, my schedule became more full. As the heat began to fade, the children returned to school, and I felt bad that I never followed through with my intentions to visit Loretta. We rarely even spoke on the phone.
Then one day Loretta’s daughter, Elizabeth, stopped by to say her mother was getting worse.
I prepared Loretta’s favorite soup and fresh dinner rolls and took them to her, along with a few jars of homemade goods. As I sat with my friend, guilt washed over me. Loretta had lost her sense of taste, so none of my fresh-baked or canned food really blessed her. I remembered a saying from my childhood: “One little deed done in time is worth more than a thousand good intentions.”
Plain Wisdom Page 15
