Archive for the Personal
Tuesday, May 3rd, 2011
Virtues of a weed
I’ve heard tell that old-fashioned mint plants are a nuisance–plant them and they’ll take over your garden and you can’t get rid of them. I guess that makes them a weed–a plant no normal person would want in her border.
They’re one of the first things thriving in my border this cold spring, so I guess Shakespeare might agree they’re weeds: “Sweet flowers are slow and weeds make haste.”
But wait. “What is a weed? A plant whose virtues have not yet been discovered” (Ralph Waldo Emerson). So no way is my mint a weed. I know its virtues.
- It’s hardy, growing where nothing else has survived all these years.
- It’s handy, right by my back steps, so when my hands are free, I tear off a leaf on my way into the house.
- It smells wonderful when I brush against it or hold that torn-off leaf to my nose until I need my hand for something else.
- It brings to mind my sister who planted its great-grandparents there soon after we moved into this house 28 years ago.
- It’s a bit of nostalgia, because she brought those ancestral sprigs from our home in Georgia.
So I’m going to have to disagree with Francis Bacon who said, “A man’s nature runs either to herbs, or to weeds; therefore let him seasonably water the one, and destroy the other.” Wrong on both counts, Francis. My hardy, minty herbs don’t need me to water them, and I’m certainly not destroying these valuable “weeds.”
Oh yes, one more virtue of my mint–it reminds me not to be a hypocrite, but to love justice and mercy and faithfulness.
“Woe to you, scribes and Pharisees, hypocrites! For you tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law: justice and mercy and faithfulness. These you ought to have done, without neglecting the others.”
Saturday, April 30th, 2011
Like mother, like daughter
Our small group women met at Caryn’s house recently. Here’s what I saw on a handy shelf in Caryn’s kitchen.
Guess what was on Carysse’s kitchen shelf?
That little green book is a New Testament.
My mother used to tell me that actions speak louder than words. That may be an overstatement, but actions–examples–do indeed shout.
Saturday, April 16th, 2011
Easter Mountain
Several years ago, our son Abraham gave instructions for making an Easter Mountain to use with his family during Holy Week.
Sunday, April 10th, 2011
What would make church work better for parents with young children?
We’re taking care of our grandtwins this weekend. After church, I tweeted:
Glad I could listen this morning despite walking circles with the twins. [because the speakers were loud enough in the Commons area]
Jonathan Davis, Technical Director for Media Ministries at Bethlehem, tweeted back:
How can media ministries make that experience better for moms?
I’m not the best one to answer that, since it’s rare anymore that I need to try to hear the sermon and hush the baby at the same time.
So please help me answer Jonathan–and appropriate people at other churches. This question is not just for Bethlehem parents, but for everyone who cares about small children and their parents during church service wherever you are.
We parents all know that the “small child” chapter of our lives isn’t the same as the chapters that come before and after. Lots of things are not the same as they used to be. In that regard, the frustrations of our desire and effort to participate in worship is not unique.
But worship matters more than most of the other things that are less than ideal now, like trying to eat out or find a quiet moment to read a book. What can help minimize the frustration at church?
Let’s broaden the question beyond just media and other technology to any sort of thing that helps parents worship.
So, let’s brainstorm:
- What does your church do to help you combine parenting with public worship or what have you seen other churches doing?
- What do you wish your church would do?
Be as specific as you can. What will be most helpful will be positive suggestions rather than descriptions of what doesn’t work.
It would be great if you could include links to examples at ministry or technology websites. But if you have only a quick moment to dash off a thought, do it. Your ideas are most important thing you can do here to bless other parents and the people in your church who care about you.
Saturday, April 2nd, 2011
Japan: The wind blows where it wills
Follow-up email from my cousin Daniel, who lives in Japan. He wrote earlier about heading north to do relief work.
__________
Last night we went to a shelter in Iwaki to help a church serve food to refugees who are staying in a university gym. They received it gratefully.
I spoke to a Korean man who is working for a Christian television network. He is making a documentary to better inform east Asia of the needs of Japan.
Radiation levels have not spiked in this area, but are slightly higher than normal. We are wearing radiation detectors of sorts, that help us see how much radiation we are gathering in a single day.
Thank God that we have been within the safe zone so far, however radiation is as unpredictable as the wind.
Japanese churches are working together during this continuing uncertain crisis. Let us pray that they remain cooperative in the future.
Thank you for your continued prayers. Our team remains in good health.
__________
The Holy Spirit is like the wind and blows where he chooses. May he blow his winds over Japanese churches to give them great unity in practical life-giving relief work and great power and love in being the hands and mouth of our eternal-life-giving Savior.
Thursday, March 31st, 2011
Happy birthday
It’s a rare pleasure that we get today to share Barnabas’s birthday with him and his family.
Happy birthday, Barnabas. Son #4. Son of encouragement.
I’m remembering the annual birthday poems Daddy wrote for you boys. Here’s one from 1989.
For Guess Who at Six
by Daddy
I know a brand new six year old.
When he was made they tossed the mold.
That means he’s just one of a kind.
Look high and low; you’ll never find
In all the world another lad
Who makes a more contented dad.
Who might this rare young fellow be?
I’ll give you clues, so you can see:
He talks a lot. He even talks
When no one’s there to hear. He walks
With courage through the battlefields
Of bedrooms, halls and stairs, and wields
His everpresent plastic sword
To slay the beast and evil lord
That lurks behind the rocking chair
And falls dead like a grizzly bear.
Sometimes a princess in distress,
With crimson cape and azure dress,
Must be delivered from the brute,
And this brave lad takes aim to shoot
The monster with a broken saw
While princess Krista stands in awe.
Sometimes his brothers think he’s cute,
With brown bowtie and little suit.
And then he tries hard not to smile;
He tries, but misses by a mile.
Sometimes you’ll find him with his back
Against a pillow, with a stack
Of Bible books, and on the tape
A story of some great escape
God gave to Joseph or to Paul;
And this young lad has learned them all.
I think, perhaps, that’s all you need
To guess his name, but one more lead:
He has a kind of pleasant roar;
We sometimes call him Number Four.
We’re glad that he is one of us:
His name? You’re right. It’s Barnabas.
Some things change. Some don’t. Talking. Courage. Slaying “beasts” for your princess (playmate Krista having given way to your love Lesley). And now there are two little princesses who pile onto the pillows with you to hear Bible stories of great escapes.
Happy birthday, dear Barnabas.
Wednesday, February 9th, 2011
Black History Month: Christmas colors
On Christmas morning in 1969 we two sat on the floor on either side of the small chess table that was my wedding present to Johnny. On the table was a tiny clay nativity scene I’d bought at the UN Gift Shop in Pasadena. The figures were pretty typical, but since they were made in Mexico, the faces were more brown than the color that was called “flesh” north of the border (whose flesh anyway?)
Beneath the table were our gifts to each other. From that first Christmas together grew a tradition for us–a creche is always the visual focal point of our family’s celebration.
I have no idea how many scenes we have now. I always hope to find one when I’m traveling in another country. Or I get them when they’re less expensive after Christmas to use at home or give as wedding or Christmas presents.
But not just any manger scenes. My daughter has brown skin and dark hair, and it’s not likely that Jesus was a fair-skinned, light-haired boy. His mother and the other people who surrounded him probably looked more like Talitha than like me.
Christmas is the second most important celebration in our year. While it’s not a time that we are intentionally emphasizing race, race is always an integral part of who we are. And I do want Talitha to be able to resonate with what she sees of Jesus.
The nativity sets that interest me don’t have northern European coloring. They are made of unpainted materials like metal, glass, or wood that don’t portray skin tone, or they have Mediterranean or darker coloring.
Some of my favorites come from Cameroon or Guinea and the people look sub-Saharan African. I suppose that raises a question: Isn’t that just as unrealistic as portraying him white and blond? Yes and no. Yes, I know it’s not likely Jesus had very dark skin and tightly textured hair. But no, because his human heritage is in that part of the world.
I’m not asking anyone to throw away their sweet little light-skinned baby Jesus scenes. But won’t it be wonderful if our sweet light-skinned children find it perfectly natural to picture Jesus as brown?
From here on out, white sisters and brothers, let’s keep asking ourselves: Can we love Jesus as much when we picture him with darker skin?
(You are invited to submit a true story to be considered as a guest post during African-American History month. Details.)
Friday, February 4th, 2011
Black History Month: 2 & more by Tim Ladwig
I have admired Tim Ladwig’s work since I first discovered it in Psalm 23. The inner-city morning-to-night day of a brother and sister illustrates the truth of this favorite psalm.
His portrayal of The Lord’s Prayer follows a little girl as she accompanies her handyman father when he helps a neighbor.
Yesterday I recommended a favorite of mine by Nikki Grimes. Today Grimes’ poetry and Ladwig’s illustrations join to present the sweet bond between a father and his son in When Daddy Prays.
(Please submit a true story to be considered as a guest post during African-American History month. Details.)
Thursday, February 3rd, 2011
Black History Month: Books
(Please submit a true story to be considered as a guest post during African-American History month. Details.)
When we adopted Talitha, we became a multiracial family. African-American history became part of the mix of our family’s history.
The books on our shelves started to change. Now I was noticing whether the illustrations in a book included children of various ethnic backgrounds. I hope many of you will be wiser and more into real life than I had been before that: I hope you will be seeking books that are multi-racial and multicultural even if your family is all one color.
A number of people have asked me for book recommendations. My best first advice is to keep your eyes open wherever you usually are finding books. But of course, it helps to get recommendations too. Pamela Toussaint has collected about 250 titles and descriptions in Great Books for African-American Children. It was published several years ago, so newer books won’t be listed, but it’s a good start.
One of my favorites is Come Sunday, by Nikki Grimes. It begins with Mama waking LaTasha on Sunday morning. “Time to shed dawn’s cozy quilt” has become part of our home language.
Then each short poem, paired with an evocative, luscious illustration, leads us with affection and tender humor through LaTasha’s Sunday. Mama braiding her hair, the imaginative hats at Paradise Baptist, the pinches on the cheek, the music that brings the congregation to dancing, the potluck meal of ”collards and ham and honey-glazed yams, fried chicken and black-eyed peas, and pumpkin pie” . . . .
Oh, now I’m thinking of another book and another. Another day.
What are your favorites?
Tuesday, January 25th, 2011
Two little peas in a pod
Have I mentioned that we’ve been blessed with grandtwins? And that they live only about a 10-minute walk from our house?
Now that they’re scooting and rolling, I can’t put them to nap on my bed anymore. But my good old thrift-shop portable crib is looking about half adequate.
What I’m thinking about is a couple of sleep tents called peapods, which will keep each baby in place for sleeping, but will be easy to stash away when they’re not here.
Their 2-year old brother still sleeps in his sometimes. It’s so much more convenient than schlepping a crib around. I really like it.
One of the pleasures of being grandmama: getting to play with the new baby stuff invented after my babies’ day.
Tuesday, January 11th, 2011
Happy birthday, dear Johnny
Yes, the title is lifted from the birthday song, but I want to be clear–dear is not a throwaway word. And to be very clear, dear Johnny is nothing like dear John. Exactly the opposite, in fact. I’ve never written Dear John to him, nor have I ever written him a Dear John.
I am very thankful for this day–the 65th anniversary of the birth of John Stephen Piper to William Solomon Hottle Piper and Ruth Eulalia Mohn Piper.
God formed his inward parts and knitted him together in his mother’s womb. I praise God for Johnny is fearfully and wonderfully made. Wonderful are your works; my soul knows it very well. His frame was not hidden from you, when he was being made in secret, intricately woven in the depths of the earth.
My thanks to God includes his writing the days of Johnny’s life so that Johnny’s pages overlapped with mine in 1966 and merged permanently and inseparably with the chapters of my life in 1968.
Your eyes saw his unformed substance; in your book were written, every one of them, the days that were formed for him, when as yet there was none of them.
I am thankful that all of our days are in his hands.
How precious to us are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If we would count them, they are more than the sand. We awake, and we are still with you.
Happy birthday, dear Johnny.
(Scripture quotes adapted from Psalm 139:13-16)
Monday, May 10th, 2010
Sabbatical
The first day of May was the first day of the leave of absence that my husband has spoken and written about. I told you how much this means to me.
Wise friends suggested that I should take a sabbatical from blogging and tweeting, just as he is. I really didn’t want to do that–strongly didn’t want to. So that was a good clue that I need to follow their good advice.
For the next few months, I won’t be posting or responding to website emails and comments. I have gotten some very good suggestions and questions from your comments and emails that I want to post about sometime, but not now. I’m saving them for later.
I don’t want to lose you internet friends, so I hope you will do a couple of favors for me.
1. Please maintain your email or rss subscription, or subscribe if you aren’t already. There will be a couple of missions-related short seasons during the sabbatical when I will probably blog. If you’re subscribed, you won’t miss those posts. And then you’ll know when I’m back at the end of the leave.
2. Check my Recommendations page once in a while. Lord willing, we two will be doing some reading together and individually during these months, and I’ll be adding suggestions to the Recommendations along the way. Also I’ve sorted recommendations into categories so it is easier to see what’s there.
Thank you so much for your prayers for us and our family. God is good. All the time. And you are part of his goodness to us.
