The most interesting thing in my week:

Rodney found this great political test. I think it's a hoot. I wonder if anyone other than Stephanie will score the same as me:

www.okcupid.com/politics

according to the test I am a:


Social Moderate
(55% permissive)

and an...

Economic Conservative
(86% permissive)

You are best described as a:

Capitalist


You exhibit a very well-developed sense of Right and Wrong and believe in economic fairness.

AMEN

Daycare perks?

I just had to vent about this.

According to Laura Sullivan (whoever that is) in Parenting magazine: 3 reasons daycare is good for your kid.

1. It'll make him healthier -- all the "bugs" he's exposed to may strengthen his immune system.

2. It'll prep him for school -- a recent NIH study found that 4-year-olds in daycare did better on literacy and number-skills tests.

3. It'll jump-start his social life -- "Because they have to get along with lots of other children, they learn they don't always come first and how to make friends."


Are those really the best arguments they can come up with? Yikes. Sign me up! I could vent more, but I have to go make sure my kids are learning that they don't always come first. Ha!

Friends:

"I really think the best friends are loyal and have the ability to think of someone other than themselves."

from: www.humblemusings.com/archives/2008/09/24/what-i-want-in-a-friend/

(I can't get the hyperlink to work on my blog. I must be doing something wrong)

By that standard I'm truly blessed with a long list of friends. Hopefully I'm growing at being one as well.

a budding writer

Phillip composed this short story for a school assignment. We thought it was very good! It is unedited:

I have two beautiful little fly children, Bacon and Grease. But I almost lost them once. This is what … oh I better just tell you the story from the beginning. It started like this: I was out teaching my little kids to fly. But Bacon of them wasn’t strong enough and fell in to a spider web. I ran frantically for my little kid but I was not speedy enough to get there before the spider occupying that web got to Bacon.

I closed my eyes and covered my ears so that I might not hear the agonizing screams of Bacon. I knew I would still hear him so I braced myself for Bacons shrieks. And I waited. And waited. But I did not here any screams so I looked to see what had happened. As I floated there in awe saw the spider helping bacon untangle himself.

I told Grease to wait and cautiously moved towards the web, afraid it might be a trick to capture both me and Bacon. As I crept towards the web, hoping that the ugly spider wouldn’t detect me, I jumped as I heard a very deep voice say, “ I Can see you.” I looked around, wondering where the voice came from. That’s when I realized that it had come from the spider. “ If your wondering if you can get your tasty… I mean adorable little son back, I’ll give him to you.” “Ok,” I replied. I flew to the good spider and retrieved my son.

“Thank you,” I fervently said over and over again. “No problem. I am working on becoming a vegetarian. Resisting your son was the perfect test to see if I am a full vegetarian,” said the spider. “My name is omelette. What is your name?” asked the spider. I answered to his question,” My name is Hash Brown. I’m very pleased to meet you. Once again I thank you for not eating my son Bacon. My other son’s name is Grease. I’ll call him so you can meet him.”
“ No thank you, “ replied Omelette to this offer.” If ever you are in trouble again, just call on me, and ol’ Omelette will come running along.” “Ok,” I said, grateful for his offer. “ See you around.”

Omelette came visiting almost every day, bringing presents for the kids frequently. The kids started to look forward to the visits of Omelette and so did I, for the house( if you call a hollow log a house) was awfully boring with no other adults. So this went on for two or three months (or was it days?) until a fly family reunion called me to town for a week. I could not take Bacon or Grease because, even though they were almost adults, they still could not fly great distances like a hundred feet. So I asked Omelette to watch Bacon and Grease while I was gone.

Here is spiders account on what happened while I was gone: Omelette said the first through third days were easy to watch the kids. It was the fourth day that he began to feel the temptation to eat them. Omelette was able to resist banqueting them on the fifth and sixth day, but it was not easy Omelette told me. On the seventh day was when the real trial came. He had Bacon in his hands, his fangs/mouth wide open when he dropped Bacon, turned and ran, and got himself stuck in a crack on purpose. From then on I, Hash Brown le Pancake never trusted Omelette to watch my children for more than three days again.

The End

ok, so they are heretics...

About that other post: they sell all kinds of resources to combat "the ridiculous teachings of an ancient heresy sometimes called “Calvinism.” HA! No wonder I was skeptical! Give me a sec to pat myself on the back for my arminianism detector. But the post is still good. Just don't go to their web site or order their magazine!

They also teach earthly complete sanctification -- I've never understood that one -- and KJV only. Eek.

Raising future adults

Unless a web site has RC Sproul, John MacArthur, or John Piper's seal of approval, I always approach sceptically. Not really, but kinda. Let's call it reading with discernment. So today I followed a link from a link and ended up at this site. I've never heard of it before, and I couldn't even find a solid statement of faith (RED FLAG!). However, I decided to post this article anyway because I thought it was great. It seems like these folks have a genuine passion for the right things. The article is rather lengthy. I had to return to it several times this morning between laundry, Sarah's school and lunch, but by the time I got to the end I was teary-eyed. I know at least Christina will be too :-)


Here's how it starts:

The Foger family came to stay with us one spring about 12 years ago while they were on furlough from Mozambique.

Their eighth child was soon to be delivered. Although I had just met the family, I was highly impressed by them. The oldest daughter, 19 years old, was a joyful, hardworking, energetic, blue-eyed beauty. The next, a 17 year old son, was cut in the mold of his father, dedicated, reserved, and very mission-minded. The five other children were 13 years old and younger. The family sang together with strong, forceful voices, no bashfulness among them. The two oldest children provided the instrumental accompaniment. It was an experience just listening to such a group.

They all understood and spoke two languages. The oldest two children spoke three languages. The father had left South America after ten years of mission service to move to another country, which meant learning another language. The parents still stumbled around slowly learning the Portuguese language. The two oldest children were invaluable in the new ministry, which was already showing promise.

While we sat around one evening, the mother casually asked us to pray that their daughter find a husband before they left for Mozambique in the Fall. I asked in a shocked manner, “Why on earth would you want her to marry now? She is such a blessing to you and knows the language. Surely you need her to help you with the other children.” The mother lifted her arched brows as she pondered how she would answer me. Her look conveyed her surprise at my lack of understanding. “We will be in a foreign country for the next 4 years. All that time she will be at the prime of her marriageable age. We feel it is best for her to marry an American. God called my husband to Mozambique as a missionary…not our adult children. We have obeyed God and raised them up to serve HIM…not US. We don’t add; we multiply. It is time for her to live her life.”

That next year we received a mission card with their picture. There were only six children in the picture. The mission letter briefly stated that the oldest son was in Bible school and the daughter was married.

Over the years I received their missions update. I noted that the parents were growing fatter and grayer. The children disappeared from the picture, one or two every year or so. It was sad to see the diminishing of such a magnificent family. The mission letters were filled with gospel film presentations to prisoners and villagers, church camps, protracted meetings, people getting saved, and only a brief mention of their now grown children. They would write something like, “Joshua and his wife are in Romania serving as missionaries; Peter and his wife are in Russia working with the something ministry; Sara married this year. Her husband is the pastor of a church.” And so it went.

Today we receive mission letters from their now grown and ministering children. I see their families expanding. Their joyful, energetic, blue-eyed beauty of a daughter is now the mother of six children. Her family is growing up in Cajun country. I know if I meet them I will be very impressed. I heard that they sing like soldiers…with power and command.

O.K. -- see -- teary eyes, no? Here's the main point. I whole-heartedly agree:

...Encourage your children to become responsible, autonomous, well educated, and experienced adults as soon as possible. You should have trained your sons to be men by the time they are fifteen, independent by the time they are eighteen. Your daughters should be capable of living apart from the family by the time they are eighteen and should be allowed to make their own life’s decisions somewhere between the ages of eighteen and twenty. Unmarried, grown (18 years old) children may remain at home; it is good if they do; but the parent-child relationship should evolve into an adult-adult relationship by the time they are sixteen to eighteen years old. Parents should have earned the right to give advice, and kids should have grown in wisdom enough to ask for it. But a parent should never invoke his parental authority on a grown kid. It is demeaning to both and akin to not being potty trained.

Reading this I was reminded of my own teen years. I praise God for parents who trusted me (with a car, gas money, and college room and board) and for God's work in my life up to that point to make me trustworthy.