Chapter 8 "Who Shall Lead Them?"

Chapter Eight
“Who Shall Lead Them?”
“But Jesus said, Suffer little children, and forbid them not, to come unto me: for of such is the Kingdom of heaven.”

Second only in importance to their first birth, or maybe even first, is the second birth of our children. I’m referring to their salvation…their spiritual birth. The Bible says, “Except a man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” Those are the words of Jesus spoken to a man, Nicodemus.

This is not supposed to be a preachy book, and I certainly won’t lecture here. But the most important thing our child will ever do is to make sure when they die, they will go to Heaven.

In the past two months, three of my grandchildren have received Jesus as their Savior. So maybe this is what prompted me to write a chapter on the Salvation of our eight children.

In my way of thinking, God created woman to bear children. He formed her in such a unique way, not only physically, but also emotionally and psychologically, that her very nature enables her to care for her children exactly the way God needs a child to be cared for. And in no way another person can care for that child. There are circumstances, for example, when a mother dies giving birth that someone else must take over this awesome responsibility. I know personally many, many adoptive mothers who love their children as much as if she had brought them into the world.

But there is something in every child given to him that only his mother gave him. I often tell women, “God tailor-made you for your child. You’re exactly what he needs.”

I never attempt to set down patterns or footprints in this book for you to follow, because my children are different from yours. Not two of my eight children are alike. They have different needs, even now as adults, and they certainly had different needs when they were children, and weak areas in their lives that differed from those of their seven siblings.

You ask for wisdom to take care of the unique needs of your children. Read James 1:5, and ask God for wisdom. Read a Proverb every morning before starting your mothering tasks. I do, even though my children are all grown now, and have children of their own. But you never stop being a mother.

While our children are different, with different needs, and differing personalities, there is one need every child has. And that is the need of a personal Savior…a need to prepare himself for eternity.

I’m going to say something that perhaps you will disagree with. It’s not up to you to lead your children to the Lord. It’s your responsibility to train them in such a way, that when they reach the “age of accountability” they will respond to the Holy Spirit’s calling.

I am going to be very open in this chapter, and a bit controversial. We have such idealistic dreams as parents, don’t we? We envision a lot. I remember when our second child, Joel Edward was born, Tommy was almost two. I always had visions of gathering my children around me, donned in jammies, sweet smelling from their baths, and reading to them. I could see them with their little heads against me, hungry to hear more about the book I was reading to them.

To my dismay, it didn’t happen…at least not right away. Joel was about two years old, and I had already put baby Philip to bed. We lived in a little village where absolutely nothing happened after 7:00. That night I purposed in my heart to carry out that vision. I had three little boys, and now was a perfect time to start making my dream a reality.

So I sat down on our couch in our little tiny mobile home, opened a book, and said, “Come here, boys, I’m going to read you a story before you go to bed.” Tommy crawled up on my right, and Joel grabbed a book of his own, and crawled up on my left. Undaunted, I plowed ahead, reading, even though I knew their baby minds still couldn’t grasp all the words on the page. I noticed Joel being a little rough with his book, so I said, “Joel, don’t tear the book. You should be nice to your books. Did you know books are our friends? One of these days, you’re going to learn to read, and you will have many, many books for your friends.” He took his book in his chubby little hands, raised it up, and said, “Well, Howdy!”

And so it is with our children’s salvation. We dream of the day we can show them how when they die, they can go to Heaven. But don’t get ahead of the Holy Spirit. If you do your part…reading the Bible to them every day, even before they can read and write, keeping them in church, being a Godly example, making sure the people who touch their lives are Godly people, praying with them, teaching them to memorize Scripture…you can trust the Holy Spirit to touch their little hearts when they come to that age.

A few days ago, I was out soul winning. I came upon a young man in his twenties. I said, “Do you know when you die that you’re going to Heaven?” He said, “When I was 8 years old, I was baptized in a Baptist Church. But I had no idea what was going on. My mother took me by the hand during the invitation, and pulled me down to the front. There was a big baptistery on the platform, and what could I do in front of 500 people? I was only 8 years old. That’s why I don’t think a child should be baptized until they’re 14 years old.”

While I felt sorry for this confused young man, I don’t think we can really put an age on when a child comes to the age of accountability. But it’s a long, long time before he reaches his teen years, I’ll guarantee you.

You should be very, very careful who teaches your children. Two of our children were presented the plan of salvation before they were ready to be saved. These were good people. But they tried to force a decision before the Holy Spirit had worked in their little hearts. We never pressured our children into being saved. But they were saturated with the Word of God. We gathered around our table every morning before breakfast, and had Bible reading and Scripture memorization. We never missed church. We did our best to put a guard around them, as far as sinful activities were concerned. But we never pressured our children into making a profession of faith.

All of our children are saved. Afterward, my husband baptized each of our children in different rivers in Chiapas. I felt sorry for this young man a few days ago, as I explained to him that baptism is a work. It isn’t part of our salvation. But I’ve heard my husband say too many time to remember how many, that “if you’re saved, and don’t want to get baptized, I don’t believe you’re saved.” I believe a desire to be baptized after salvation, is as natural as wanting to wear a wedding band after you get married.

Bringing a baby into the world physically is an awesome experience. But it’s as natural as breathing. So also, leading a child to a spiritual re-birth should be natural, and a wonderful experience for us as parents.

God Is So Good!

God is so Good!

God is so Good? If God is so Good, why did He allow me to be born into a home, where my father was a drunkard, and didn’t know God? God is so Good?

Yes, God is Good, because He gave me a mother who did love God, who prayed for my father, and read her Bible every night. God is so Good!

God is so Good?
If God is so Good, why did He allow my father to mock my mother and her Bible, and her God? God is so Good?

Yes, God is Good, because one day my father went to church, and accepted Christ as his Savior, and the God of my mother’s Bible. God is so Good!

God is so Good? Then why these doubts…these fears that I feel when my father explains to me that even though I’m only 8 years old, if I were to die in my sins, I’d go to hell? Does that show the goodness of God? Would a Good God condemn a little girl to hell?

Yes. But God is so Good, because Daddy read to me in the Bible that God loved me so much that He sent His Only Begotten Son to earth to die on the cross for my sins…in my place. He suffered death in my place, the death penalty for my sins so that I could have eternal life. God is so Good!

God is so Good? Would a Good God take my parents to Mexico, when in the middle of my teen years, when I was sixteen years old, I had to leave my friends, my school, my church, and my country to go to a strange land, whose language I didn’t understand, and whose customs were as different as the food and the people? God is so Good?

Yes, God is Good, because, although at times in my rebellion, little by little God let me learn Spanish, the customs, and even to love the Mexican people. And He put a desire, a call into my heart to spend the rest of my life serving the people of Mexico. God is so Good!

God is so Good? Why would he want me to serve Him alone? I was 24 years old, and not one man had appeared in my life who wanted to serve God the way I wanted to serve Him, where I wanted to serve Him. God is so Good?

Yes. God is Good, because I decided to serve God with or without a husband. God Who is so Good, gave me peace!

…and also a husband. God is so Good for sending me a husband…the man of my dreams, Tom Sloan!
God is so Good!

God is so Good? Then why did He allow Tom to suffer the last 24 years of his life from Parkinson’s disease? Why was he so limited in his medical profession? God is so Good? Then why did He take him away from me? Why did He take him to Heaven? Why couldn’t we spend our last years on earth together? Couldn’t we have served Him better together? Couldn’t he have served God better with good health?

It’s been six years now since he left, and I ask myself, “Why? Why? Why? Why so many abortions? Why so many divorces? Why so much crime? Why so many broken hearts and broken vows? Why so many abandoned children, and abused women? Why is a little nine year-old girl dying of cancer?

Could it be there are moments…instants when God ceases to be Good?
No, no! A thousand times No!
God allows sickness, and sorrows, and poverty, and abandoned children, and cancer in little ones to draw us closer to Him, so that He can show us His love and His mercy and His grace.
It’s when we suffer most that we need more of His love and His comfort.
The greater the heartache, the more of His grace and His presence I need. The more I have to depend on Him.
I give Him my sorrow, and He gives me His joy.
I give Him my battles, and He gives me His victory.
I give Him my anxieties, and He gives me His peace.
I give Him my sins, and He gives me His forgiveness.
God is so Good?
Yes, God is so Good!

December 2010 Prayer Letter

Dear Friends,

As I write this letter, I am beginning what will be a new adventure for me: a furlough. Because my son, David, and his wife, Jolene and their three children are in America for the birth of their 4th child, and will be returning to Ukraine in March, I have decided to spend some of this time with them. But I would also like to present my work to your church if you think I could be a blessing to you.

Over 36 years ago, my husband and I moved with our three small sons to a little village called Ixtapa. It was there that we actually started our mission work, and the training of Indian pastors. After 32 years, God has laid it on my son in law, Ulises’ heart to return to this town to begin a new work. He and Elizabeth, my daughter, go every Saturday to hand out tracts and evangelize. Not only have they seen many souls saved, they have received an invitation to start a church there. Please pray for the progress of this work.

The theme of our 12th annual Ladies’ Christmas Banquet this year was “God is So Good.” My son, David, did a wonderful job preaching, and when the invitation was given, there were four saved, including a congresswoman, and the sister of a former first lady. We also celebrated the fifty years of God’s goodness and blessings to me after having arrived in México in 1960 with my parents and three brothers. I’m thankful for the honor of getting to live in México for most of my life, and am grateful to the Lord for calling me to be a missionary.

I am including an essay I wrote and read during the program, and I hope it will convey to you the gratitude I feel in my heart, and which I pray will encourage you to be thankful during this wonderful time of the year, as we celebrate the birth of our Savior.

May God’s riches blessings be yours as you begin a New Year.

Your friend,
Billie Sloan
Nahum 1:7

Between You and Me / The Power of Negative Thinking

“Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and there be any praise, think on these things.”
Philippians 4:8

My husband and I bought our first Van after all eight of our children were born. So with our pickups and our Suburban our front seats were not divided. Not until several years after our youngest was born did we buy our first vehicle that had a divided front seat. So for almost half of our married years, I was able to sit next to my husband when he would drive. If you’re under thirty years old, you probably can’t relate to the past few sentences.

We raised our children before the strict safety laws were passed. So we always had a baby in the front with us. Although it would have been very practical to have placed our little one between the two of us, my husband would always put the seat or bed by the door, so I could sit next to him. He was very particular about there being nothing between him and me.

That was also an important principle in our marriage. There should never be anything between a husband and wife, in order for there to be a sweet relationship.

In a few days my children and I will be remembering that Sunday afternoon six years ago, when my husband went to Heaven. Now that I’m a widow, I find myself becoming more aware of things that come between the Lord and me…things that make it harder for me to feel His presence. When I become negative in my thinking, it’s hard for me to sense His nearness.

As I prepare this lesson, I find myself in a lovely hotel room, with an adjoining room where my son, David, and his wife, Jolene, and their three children are staying. I will be traveling with them, as they visit churches in America for the next few months, before their return to Ukraine, where they serve as missionaries. If you really want to spend quality time with someone, go on a road trip with them. One thing that impresses me most about my son is his positive thinking. I’ve observed many obstacles during this trip, which included a cross-country trip through Mexico. But he refuses to give up, or give in to little setbacks. And there’s power in that kind of thinking. Positive thinking achieves goals.

There was a book out several years ago called The Power of Positive Thinking. I never read it, but without even opening it, one can imagine the teaching of the author.

But there’s also power in negative thinking. I’ve experienced it recently, as I’ve had such thoughts as: “I’m not going to have enough money, I’m going to run out of time, and I’m not going to get this lesson ready by my deadline.”

So I’ve come up with a little remedy: as we were traveling along today, I was having such negative thoughts. They began to cloud my mind, and my disposition. So I just imagined myself sitting at a big desk, in a lovely room, leisurely working on this lesson. And immediately I felt my spirit brighten, and the Lord lifted my burden.

And here I am.

When I prepare my lessons, I must keep a positive attitude. Sometimes I have to psyche myself up by thinking, “Someone needs this. This is going to be a blessing to someone today. This may even change someone’s life, or even save their marriage.”

It’s more fun to be positive than to be negative. For example, if you’re a homemaker, just imagine yourself standing in your laundry room surrounded by piles of dirty laundry. You can either lie down on top of the clothes, and cry yourself to sleep in a fit of depression. Or you can close your eyes and imagine those clothes washed and folded in nice organized stacks. That’s a great motivator, also, to get busy and do something about our challenges.

There is an element of faith to thinking positively. You have to learn to trust. Trust the Lord to supply time you don’t have, strength you don’t possess, or money you lack in order to carry out your responsibilities and commitments. That’s what Salvation is all about. If you don’t trust the Lord to supply the faith that you lack in order to believe in His death, burial, and resurrection, you can’t be saved.

Positive thinking isn’t a humanistic approach to living. It’s a biblical principal. In Philippians 4:4-8, Paul tells us that our attitude has a lot to do with our relationship with the Lord. We can either rejoice, or complain. We have the choice to trust, or to worry; we can grumble, or be thankful; we can always be telling others about our problems, or we can tell them to the Lord. When we choose the positive options, we have peace with God, and therefore our relationships with others are what they should be. I’m not making this up. That’s what Paul is telling us.

Did you know negative thinking can affect your health? I’m told that many people who have stomach ailments are worriers. Many, many years ago when my husband and I first moved to San Cristóbal, we became acquainted with a precious couple who were quite a bit older than we were. We would get so amused at them. Hubby was a happy-go-lucky sort of fellow, and enjoyed eating right off the carts of the Indian street vendors in our little mountain valley home. He never was sick. His wife, however, was always sick. She would prepare “bugs” which I believe amounted to yogurt that she would consume in ample amounts in order to “keep the bacteria away.” She would come to my young husband, being the only American doctor in town, and he would kindly prescribe medication for her stomach upsets, and lovingly and patiently give her advice to calm her tummy woes. But later he’d smile as he’d tell me, “If she’d just go out to dinner every once in a while with her husband, and eat what he eats and relax, she wouldn’t have that trouble.”

At the risk of sounding pious, my desire is for everything I do to be part of what produces God’s perfect plan for my life. So when I doubt and fear that I will lack anything in order to carry out that plan, whether it is money, strength, time, wisdom, health or protection, I’m building a wall between the Lord and me. Doubt is the opposite of faith; fear is the opposite of trust; and doubt and fear produce negative attitudes and negative thoughts.

Negative thoughts are exhausting; thinking positively energizes and motivates.

Negative thinking never makes dreams come true; negative thinking destroys.

Negative attitudes are powerful enough to make a child fail in his studies, and negative thinking makes for unreached goals.

Do you think your husband’s plan to start his own business is a lot of nonsense? Imagine him as an important CEO. Negative thinking can destroy a marriage, because it longs for encouraging words from its mates.

Do you have a child who is failing in Math? Encourage him as if he were making straight A’s. A child’s confidence is torn down by the power of a mother’s negative thinking.

I pray this prayer every morning: “Lord, help me to be a blessing to those around me.” But when I have a negative attitude, I affect others in a negative way.

However, the greatest damage my negative thinking does is to shadow the presence of God in my life. And just between you and me…

I don’t want that to happen.

Between You and Me / Anxiety

“And Abram said unto Lot, Let there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and thee, and between my herdmen and thy herdmen; for we be brethren.”
Genesis 13:8

I have four daughters, and four sons. To each of you I say, “I don’t want there to be anything between you and me.” I have four sons in law, and four daughters in law. “I hope there will never be anything between you and me.” I have three brothers. To them and my sisters in law I say the same “Don’t let anything come between you and me.” If you know me, I want there to be nothing between you and me. I want our relationship to be everything it should be, whether as your mother, your sister, or your friend.

There’s a story in the book of Genesis about a man and his nephew. Abraham was a wealthy man. God had blessed him with cattle and land. He lived in the land of Canaan with his wife, Sarah, and his nephew, Lot. They migrated there from Ur, a land of pagan idolatry. It was in this place that God chose to bring Abraham to start a new generation that would love and serve Him. Abraham didn’t use the excuse that he came from a pagan background. He trusted God to fulfill His promise through him and Sarah, although they were both nearing 100 years of age.

Everything belonged to Abraham. Lot was a tag-along. In fact God’s original plan was for Abraham to leave all. In part he obeyed, but not completely, because he brought Lot and his father, Terah with him. The Bible says that Terah was an idolater.

One day Abraham noticed that his servants and those of Lot were fighting over the greenest pasture for their sheep. Abraham valued the relationship with his nephew more than his animals. He knew that if their shepherds were disagreeing, in a short time, so would they. So although everything belonged to Abraham, he came up with a solution: “Lot, you choose the pasture land you would like to have. If you go to the left, I’ll go to the right. If you choose the right, I’ll go to the left.” And Lot chose the richest pasture land. It reminded him of the rich land of Egypt, which by the way he remembered, because Abraham had taken his family there during the time of famine, instead of trusting the Lord to provide his needs.

Abraham was willing to give up the best pasture land in order to keep anything from coming between him and his nephew.

God saw Abraham’s heart, and He called Abraham apart to live in the land of Hebron. Hebron means “the place of communion.” The verb commune means to communicate intimately. Abraham and God were friends, intimate friends.

Abraham was far from perfect. But God chose him to be the father of a nation.

Maybe because I’m a widow, and I don’t have the companionship of a husband, but I long to have an intimate relationship with God. I’m not where I wish I were in our relationship, but I know what I long for.

But just as there are things that come between a husband and a wife to harm their relationship, there are things that can wedge themselves between the Lord and a Christian. I know. I’ve experienced it. Just as I’ve enjoyed close communion with the Lord, I also know what it is to feel something is not right.

The ultimate goal of a Christian should be to please the Lord, and bring honor to Him in all we do. Unless we take stock of our lives, and acknowledge what it is that is hindering our relationship, whether between husband and wife, mother and child, or a Christian and the Lord, we’ll never make that relationship more intimate.

So I’ve tried to analyze my personal relationship with the Lord, and I came up with a list of possible problems that could come between the two of us. At the top of my list is “Anxiety.” I’m going to share with you what I’m feeling this morning.

The dictionary defines anxiety as “uneasiness usually over an expected misfortune.” If I’m going to be a blessing to you, I must expose my feelings, and I’ll have to admit, I very often have feelings of anxiety. I started this lesson exactly one week away from a very exciting trip. The most unsettling thing I do is to leave the comfort and security of my beloved home. But this was going to be a happy trip, because I was meeting my son, David, and his wife, Jolene and their three children, whom I had not seen in almost two years. I was also going to be attending a Christian Womanhood Spectacular, which I’ve attended only in my dreams since I was a young wife and mother. The joy and thrill of that precious reunion, and my dream of a lifetime come true, was being over-shadowed by anxiety: what if my plane from Chiapas takes off late, and I don’t have enough time to change planes in Mexico City? What if the hotel I reserved for that night cancels my reservation, because I have a late check-in, and I have to sleep in the lobby, or in the airport? Is it cold in Chicago in October? Should I take a coat? Will my luggage be over-weight? And on and on went the “uneasiness” of this “expected misfortune.” Not only do those feelings bring a distance between the Lord and me, it robs me of the joy I should be feeling, it makes me unproductive, it robs me of much-needed sleep, it makes me irritable with others, it makes me say things that I wouldn’t say, or even think if I would simply do what the Bible tells me to do in Philippians 4:6, “Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus.” The most valuable treasure anxiety takes from me is peace, the peace of God, according to this Scripture. I need to do what Peter tells me to do, “Casting all your care upon him; for he careth for you.” I Peter 5:7 Peter was a fisherman, and I believe we can imagine our casting our cares on Jesus, just as Peter cast his net into the sea. I don’t envision God sitting up in Heaven, shaking His head in disgust at me for not trusting Him, because of the last part of that verse, “He careth for you.” Our anxieties are important to Him, because they’re part of what keeps us from being close.

So I took practical measures to at least limit my anxieties. I made a list of things I needed to get done before my departure date. I even put little abbreviations of the day I should have each one finished by the side of each item. I at least knew what needed to be done.

There are anxieties I have which are real. I have actually slept in a hotel lobby, but I have precious memories of that short night, and the lessons the Lord taught me. I have also had luggage that exceeded the weight limit several times. But I’ve also seen the Lord deliver me from having to leave anything behind, or even having to pay extra.

Many things that cause our anxiety, whether real or imagined, can be useful: they can motivate us to get organized, take stock of the way we spend our time, or just simply be thankful for someone, perhaps, we’re afraid we’re going to lose. Just as I may know the consequences of my plane taking off late, I must realize there are certain things over which I have absolutely no control. I can’t control the weather in Chicago, any more than I can control flight schedules. I must do as Peter tells me. I must cast my care on Him, Who cares for me, and realize that some things are totally out of my control. I must do the best I can to be on time for all my flights, and I wisely went online, checking the weather forecast for Chicago. But the success of failure of my trip didn’t depend on everything going perfectly. It depended on my trust in the One Who cares for me, and Who is in the “control tower” of my life.

So that morning I went fishing. I did some casting. I did this by just talking to the Lord, and admitting my anxieties to Him. I prayed for my pilots, and I asked Him to put kind people in my path. I asked Him to give me His peace for my anxieties.

And that’s exactly what He did.

Billie Sloan
Nahum 1:7

MY KIDS AND ME - Chapter 7

“The Common and Ordinary.
The Schedules and Routines”

I am writing this book shortly after my 65th birthday. I have eight children, and twenty-eight grandchildren. At the moment of this writing, I have been alone for almost three weeks. I am taking a brief respite from work and travels, and am enjoying being able to make my own schedules and establish my own routine.

Ordinarily, I am with one or more of my children, their spouse and their children. So there are times when I must “go with the flow,” and keep up with their pace. If I am traveling with my son, David, and his wife, Jolene and their three children…which is the only way I can spend time with them every two years during their visit in America, and before their return to their mission field of Ukraine…I must go on their strict routine and schedules.

When I’m at home in Chiapas, living across the drive from my church, necessitates doing certain things before people arrive in my yard for certain activities.

Even during this luxurious break from my normal routine, I am staying in a mission apartment, so I must comply with certain schedules of the church activities, which I thoroughly enjoy: ladies’ Thursday morning visitation, ladies meetings, and other church activities.

Can one ever say, “I am the sole ruler of my life? I can plan my day how I want, doing exactly what I would like to do, and when, and until I get ready, I’ll not quit?” Will I ever be so independent that I can completely eliminate all interruptions and distractions? I think not.

If that is your dream, as it is mine at times, let me confirm that the happiest person on earth is not the person who has all the money she wants to spend, spending it however she likes, with whomever she pleases. She does not get up at her leisure, and sleep whenever she gets tired.

Even in this brief time that I am at liberty to “do as I please, and go as I please,” I have found myself forming little limitations, routines, and schedules. Not only do I feel more rested than if I had nothing to account for having gotten up in the morning, but I actually have a sense of having accomplished things that I could have otherwise not gotten done had I been surrounded by children and grandchildren. I schedule times for reading, relaxing, and napping. I have a routine for shopping, and doing fun things. I have gone to the library, and browsed through expensive purses and suits, although I haven’t purchased them.

There is something inside us…at least inside me…that demands order…reasons for doing what I do, answers to “what am I doing here, and why am I doing this?”

And so it is with raising children.

I remember when my children were small, I would go to bed at night, and look back over my day with disgust. What had I done? I had washed, and cooked and cleaned. I had bathed my children, washed dirty faces and hands before meals. I had put them down for naps, washed out diapers, folded mountains of laundry, and I had made out menus and grocery lists. I had home schooled. All these activities were products of routine and schedule. And I would think, “I just worked and worked all day around my children, and never took time to talk with them, or play games with them, or listen to their stories.” Than I would begin to fantasize about the next day, and how I would change my life: “I’ll get up in the morning, and before I dress, or fix breakfast, or start school, I’ll sit down in the living room floor and play games with them. I’ll leisurely stroll into the kitchen, and have breakfast on the table in twenty minutes. Then before dishes are done, we’ll dress and go out for a walk.”

And on and on my fantasizing would go.

The next morning, just as one would step onto a ramp like the one you put your groceries on at Wal-Mart, or lug your luggage (so that’s where luggage got its name!) onto the ramp at the airport, I would step out of bed, and onto my routine-ramp, and before you knew it, it would be eighteen hours later, and I had nothing more to show for my day than the same things I had performed the day before.

But without my even knowing it, I was creating a nest of security for my children, and for myself. My children knew what to expect. They knew what came next, and what was expected of them, and what they could look forward to. There were certain dishes I prepared on certain days.

The greatest damage the devil can do to your happiness is to convince you that you are doing everything wrong. You’re the reason for all your problems. And many times he convinces us to do things the way everyone else around us is doing it.

From the time our children were born, until they left for college, we had a naptime routine. This didn’t necessarily come at the same time every day, but it did fall into the same slot: immediately after lunch, which at our house was about 2:00. We raised our children in Mexico, where the big meal of the day is served in the afternoon, usually between 2:00 and 3:00. This beautifully allows families to come home from school and work, enjoy a leisurely meal together, and then return to their work or school around 4:00. This is called, Siesta Time, and in my little mountain village, many shops and businesses close down during that time.

This is perhaps why this routine started, but even today, I find myself looking for a quiet corner wherever I am, as soon as lunch is over, and dishes are done, and enjoying a thirty-minute to hour long nap. I won’t go into the benefits of this tradition, because I’m talking about routines and schedules.

But even as I have spent these three weeks alone, I religiously take my delicious naps every afternoon. The great joy of being alone is that I can manage my own naps whenever I like…not while grandbabies are down for their naps.

There is a joy, and sense of fulfillment, a feeling of “doing what I should be doing, when I should be doing it,” in routine and schedules, even at my age. I schedule one hour for writing this book, immediately after my devotions. So my mind is not tangled up in thinking, “I should be preparing my IRS, or making phone calls, or running to Wal-Mart.”

Isn’t this somewhat similar to being in the center of God’s will? While your children are too young to know God’s will, schedule and routine will provide that safety for them, that feeling of being secure in knowing that they’re doing exactly what they should be doing, at exactly the right time. This familiarity with our activities creates this warm soothing comfort zone. There is the looking forward to story time after supper around the table. “This is a tough math problem, but as soon as I’m through, I can work on my spelling words.”

Don’t you remember as a child sitting in a classroom, maybe absorbed in trying to answer a history question, and all of a sudden visions of sitting around the dinner table came to your mind? How comforting, and soothing simple routines provide for us in our times of distress.

Is it possible that my two young friends, Josh and Caleb, even as I write, are somewhere in a prison, with thoughts of their father’s home going only three days ago…and their not being able to be with their families? What could possibly get anyone through such an agonizing experience? Do they have memories of their father doing the familiar, routine things with them? The familiarity of his being behind the pulpit, of always standing for what was right? Could this be their cushion in a cold prison? This warm memory of “Dad always…”

Is it family vacations he always provided for his children, and their families every year? This “looking forward to the familiar?” Tradition, routine, schedules…that’s what brings happy memories, and cozy comfort in cold, dark prison cells.

It was routine that allowed our family to always have devotions around our dining room table. It wasn’t the powerful messages that came out of those routine times. I never had time to prepare anything, and many times my mind wouldn’t have allowed me to organize spiritual thoughts in order to convey them to my children. It was routine that allowed my children to learn Scripture passages from the time they could sit up in a high chair.

Sitting around our table, Bibles in front of us, my little papers with Scriptures to be quoted and the Scripture of the week to be memorized, brought a feeling of “everything’s going to be all right. Everything is where it should be, and everyone is where they should be.” That sense of well-being, and peace comes forth from routine…the same ole same ole.

If I had not cultivated the habit of routine, the “this-comes-after-this” way of life, there are times when I wouldn’t know which way to go when I wake up in the mornings. Perhaps because as people grow older there is this sense of not having enough years, or months or days to get everything done that I would like to accomplish in this lifetime. I feel at times that there is going to be more crammed into the next day, because I didn’t get it all done today. There is a peace, a sense of direction and purpose and accomplishment every morning, as routine guides me through my maze. It’s the turning on the coffee pot and heading for the shower…steps firm and sure that I’m doing at least one thing right this day, and so everything else should fall into place, too. Even though my mind is numb with drowsiness, and I know by looking at the clock, and by the way my body is screaming to “please, one more hour under the covers,” that three hours’ sleep is not enough to perform all the activities that lie ahead. But by the time I’m through with the normal routine, and I sit down with my coffee and Bible, I have a certain feeling of accomplishment, and of being ready for the day.

It’s that turning off the decision maker…knowing exactly what comes next…that frees my mind, once it’s awake, to start praying for my children, and the other people and things and problems I pray for every day.

There is one simple thing I’ve learned in this life: the fewer the decisions, the fewer the mistakes. The fewer the decisions, the more freedom for peaceful thoughts and tranquility. There’s no “shall I start laundry today, or wait one more day?” Well, at my house if it’s Monday or Thursday, it’s laundry day for me. No decision there, so if the electricity goes off on Monday morning, I can put something else in the laundry slot for Monday.

When my children were all at home, I had…please don’t laugh…certain dresses for certain days. I absolutely loved Saturday’s at our house, because that’s the day we didn’t have school, and I got to do only housework that day. I had a yellow dress that I used only on Saturday’s. It was short sleeved, so I had more freedom to roll out the dough for our cinnamon rolls. I never wore that dress on Wednesday’s or Monday’s…just Saturday’s. I don’t particularly like yellow, and I don’t believe it’s my color, but it was given to me, and so I wore it for housework.

So what do yellow dresses have to do with anything? I would have asked the same question before my children left home.

But after they left for college, imagine the comfort in midst of the agonizing homesickness of knowing exactly what I was wearing when my children would think of home on Saturday’s….this yellow cushion to curl up on.

No matter how silly your routine, or how weird yours may be, don’t be afraid of it. It’s tailor-made for you and your children.

The Hearbeat of a Banquet

(Instead of posting Chapter 8 of my book, My Kids and Me, I’ve decided to send you some of the thoughts I’m having, and the emotions I usually feel this time of the year. Thank you for letting me share them with you.)

“The Heartbeat of a Banquet”

On Friday afternoon, November 19, just two weeks from today, Lord willing, I’ll walk into the lovely Banquet room of probably the most prestigious hotel in our little town. As always, I will arrive about an hour before 4:00 in order to arrange my personal things…my folder containing programs customized for everyone who will take part in our annual Ladies’ Christmas Banquet, and my own program, which will basically play the part of my brain for the evening, telling me exactly what I should be doing, when, and where; my Bible, handkerchief, water, pens, music, etc. Don’t worry…all those items are on a list in a pretty pink notebook I’ve chosen for my notes this year.

I also want to be relaxed and organized so I will be able to greet each lady at the door.

But I think the most important reason I arrive an hour early is because I want to take in the beauty, and the atmosphere before anyone else arrives. My daughters and several ladies from the church will arrive about 10:00 that morning to finish the final touches of the decorations.

But by 3:00, my girls will be in their rooms at the hotel, which are reserved several months before the Banquet. I did this last year, and my children said that was one of the most wonderful parts of the Banquet…being able to leisurely dress for the banquet, and step out of their rooms and into the Banquet room. And then after the banquet, not to have to take babies and belongings out to vans and carry sleeping babies into the house late at night. By the end of the banquet, babies will be in their jammies, and tucked into bed by their “nannies for the evening.”

So if I get there an hour before the Banquet, no one is there. I just walk among the tables, taking in the atmosphere of what will soon be filled with the chatter of lady friends, some who have saved all year long in order to buy their $20 dollar ticket. Some will be wearing designer dresses, some dresses will be homemade, and some will be from last year’s Banquet. This represents the different walks of life these women come from.

But what will take place here on that night will also represent hundreds and hundreds of hours of work, planning, preparation, and prayer put into this event so dear to my heart.

Thousands of dollars miraculously raised by friends, children, churches across the USA, our church here, and the hard work of my Sunday school ladies are required to fund this gala evening.

As I walk in my imagination among the tables, which will be so beautifully decorated this year with fresh flowers, my mind goes back fifty years…

…1960. I was only 16 years old that November 15th afternoon, as my parents, my three little brothers and I drove across the border, and along the two-lane highway that led me away from my country, my beloved church, school, and friends into this strange land called México. Everything uncommon looks strange in the eyes of a teenage girl: the people, their customs, their food, and their language.

I was blessed enough to have a teenage brother who was my very best friend and constant companion. We even enrolled in school together, and for the next three years, which would conclude our high school years, we sat in the same classrooms, and shared the same friends. We went on “dates,” and we clowned around. We even enjoyed staying in the same bedroom in twin beds while we soaked in all the attention required for two teenagers with hepatitis.

How do a different people become yours? What makes a strange country become home? Why is it sometimes easier to express yourself in a second language than in your first language?

It happens by just being there, and letting it happen. It isn’t learned, and it isn’t forced on you. It happens to you like a sweet aroma happens to you when you walk through a garden, or a forest.

Never in my wildest teenage dreams would I ever imagine loving a land, a country, a city, a people like I love my home, and the place where God has called me.

I believe when God gives a call, He also gives a love. It’s like a magnet drawing you to it, whether it is to care for your children, to care for the sick, to pastor a church, or to minister to prisoners. The surrender to God’s call brings peace.

We’re talking heartbeats here.

My girls and the ladies in our church make up the core of the production of this event. They’re considerably younger than I am, and the part they play in this annual affair requires lots and lots of hard physical work…work with their hands, as they spend hours designing invitations, creating the lovely corsages for each special lady, making centerpieces.

Their tired feet walk and run from sun up until sundown, chasing toddlers, running errands, shopping, reserving, and ordering.

Their voices make phone calls, and rehearse songs, and invite friends.

Fingers work almost non stop at their computers, typing out programs, songs and menus; or punching in phone numbers as they call to make sure reservations are confirmed.

But the part of my anatomy that will be working most throughout the months and now days before the Banquet will be my mind. My mind works although I lie down for an afternoon nap. In my mind I can picture how I want everything to be that evening. I see the platform; I see the tables reserved for special guests; I hear the songs.

I go over and over in my mind the essay I will be reading that evening…something I’ve done ever since our first Banquet years ago…a speech that goes with the theme for the Banquet.

And you can’t involve the mind without getting the heart in on the act. My heart is stirred at times while I’m alone in the early hours of the morning with the Lord. As I open my Bible and read, my emotions are active as I realize the theme of this year’s banquet: “Celebrating Fifty Years of God’s Goodness.”

For some of the ladies attending that evening, this is probably one of many invitations that they will receive. Because of their position in life, events like this abound. Why do they choose this particular one year after year after year? Because the heartbeat of our Banquet, the purpose of this annual event is reaching hearts, and stirring emotions. And year after year these ladies tell me before they leave, “Thank you for this evening. It’s the highlight of my year, and of this season. My heart feels so full.”

If my heart isn’t prepared for that evening, their hearts won’t be touched.

As I grow older, my mind works a lot more than my hands or my feet do. My mind works now in fact, more than my hands or feet ever worked when I was a young mother. Only when I sleep does it also rest.

But my body gets tired and weary, so I must, especially during this time, make sure I eat the right food, and get enough rest…even more than I normally would. My body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, and I’ve noticed when I’m physically exhausted, my spirit is weary, also, and I’m not as aware of His presence.

I desire an alert sound mind, which is required of me as I write, speak, and teach.

I pray this prayer every night before I go to bed, for my children and for their mother: “Help me/us to wake up in the morning refreshed and encouraged about the challenge of a new day.”

If you read this, and if you are praying for this Banquet, will you also pray for the Lord to give this 66 year-old mind alertness required for the days ahead, and especially for the evening of November 19? Pray for my heart to be soft and not hard as I face the challenges and demands of each day.

And pray for the Holy Spirit to touch and change the hearts of the ladies who attend, so when they walk out that evening, they’ll be forever different than when they walked in.