Relimom

Spanking your child in the name of the father, the son and the holy ghost

2009-12-03T05:35:00.001-06:00

A Dutch priest got a lot of flak for preaching that it's okay to spank your child. He said it was a sign of love. To prove his point he quoted Proverbs 13:24 (New International Version): 'He who spares the rod hates his son, but he who loves him is careful to discipline him.'

Now that got everyone's atttention!

In a Dutch survey a small majority of 56% agreed with this Dutch minister: giving your kids a little slap to teach them something is alright. But all the Dutch experts disagree, and say hitting your child is a sign of powerlessness, and springs from impulsive anger. Besides: you're setting a really bad example.

Not much of a fan of all those experts telling parents what to do, and how to do it, I have to agree with them on this. Hurting your child to teach him something seems odd to me. What if your spouse hit you to make his point? Shouldn't adults be able to fight their battles using words?!

I think the bible can be read in many ways, and if you search long and hard enough, you may very possibly find someting to prove you right. Because doesn't the bible also say: 'Seek and you will find?'

What do you think ot spanking your child?

Light under a bushel?

2009-11-18T03:28:00.000-06:00

Since I have a phd in psychology and I'm a stay at home mom, people tend to tell me I'm hiding my light under a bushel.

'What a waste!' and 'So you don't do anything anymore?' are common responses, based on the assumption that taking care of your children doesn't require talent nor effort.

To all those people I would like to say: I did not hide my light under a bushel! I'm using it every day to make the world a better place by taking care of the future: my children.

Follow Me

2009-09-13T07:07:00.002-05:00

I found this sweet little picture in our local thrift shop and I took it home with me.

Now it's hanging on our wall and I love to look at it. I know it's a childlike perspective on Jesus; indeed, it's how I used to picture Jesus myself. As this gentle man in long white robes, long flowing hair a beard and Birkenstocks.

Maybe that's what attracts me too it: the feeling of kindness and love it exudes.

Also, it makes me smile a little, because obviously the message is that all children are welcome, and Jesus loves them all. But at the same time the way they are depicted is very stereotypical. One might almost say a bit racist. But the intention was all good, I'm sure!

As a Dutch mom I just love the little Dutch girl in wooden shoes!

I did a little research on Tom Curr, and this is what I found:

Tom Curr was born in 1887, and died in 1958 at the age of 71. He was a member of Edinburgh Photographic Society and one of the three judges for the EPS Open Exhibition held in 1936. He also played a prominent role in the Boys' Brigade in Edinburgh.

In October 1938, he spoke to the EPS Portfolio Group. Tom gave his comments on and criticisms of the annual EPS Members' Exhibition in January 1947.

I couldn't find any more information, but good news: dr. Nancy Brewer is doing research on Tom Curr, so hopefully in future we'll know more about him.

Are your lights on?!

2009-07-03T05:35:00.000-05:00

Ten virgins were waiting for the bridegroom to come. It was nighttime and they all had lamps with oil in them, and the lamps were burning brightly.
They waited and waited. As it got later, they began to get drowsy, and one by one they fell asleep.
Then they heard someone calling, "Here's the bridegroom! Come out to meet him."
They began to get up, but some of the lamps began going out.
Five of the girls were prepared for just such an event. They had planned ahead and anticipated the delay. They had extra oil to add to their lamps. They were wise to make this preparation.
The five foolish girls had no extra oil.

I have always liked this story. I could easily imagine the five foolish girls and the five wise girls and always though the foolish girls, well, foolish! And smugly I thought: that wouldn't happen to me! Or would it...

Eckhart Tolle offers a very interesting interpretation of this story:

The five foolish girls are 'unaware' they do not live in the moment. Their lack of oil represents there lack of awareness.
The five wise girls on the other hand have enough oil = awareness to keep their lamp burning = in the present.

According to Eckhart Tolle the story of the five girls is about the possibility to live in a completely new state of awareness. A state of mind in which all your attention is focused on the here and now.

'There's no room for daydreams, thoughts, memories and expectations. There is nog room for tension or fear. All there is, is you with every fibre of your body.'

It gives a whole new meaning to the phrase: punching someone's lights out!

I get by with a little help from my friends

2009-06-17T12:20:00.000-05:00

Because sometimes you need all the help you can get.

Wordless Wednesday

Guest post: There's something about Mary

2009-05-08T07:43:00.018-05:00

Beatrijs Hofland is a Dutch theologian and stay-at-home mom.

She was kind enough to write this beautiful guest post.

The most beautiful sound I ever heard: Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria. All the beautiful sounds of the world in a single word: Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria, Maria  (From: Westside Story) 

Why do I write about Maria?

Why would a protestant write about Maria? Sure, in protestan religion Maria is important as Jesus' mom, but she doesn’t occupy the same important place as in catholism.

Maria came to my life at special moments:

at a wedding
as the image that an important friend gave to me. S
during my study of women and religion, through which I got to know a different, more revolutionary side of Mary.

I even named my daughter Elisabeth, after my mother-in-law and Mary’s cousin Elisabeth, who knew that Mary was to give birth to Jesus:

41 When Elizabeth heard Mary's greeting, the baby leaped in her womb, and Elizabeth was filled with the Holy Spirit. 42 In a loud voice she exclaimed: "Blessed are you among women, and blessed is the child you will bear! 43 But why am I so favored, that the mother of my Lord should come to me? 44 As soon as the sound of your greeting reached my ears, the baby in my womb leaped for joy.

(Lukas 1: 41-44, New International version) 

When your life starts in such a joyful manner, it must be wonderful! 

Mary who?

In biblical history Mary is the chosen one who gets to give birth to Jesus Christ. At the time she is still a virgin, and engaged to Joseph, but in a mysterious way she gets pregnant! Many men would call the whole thing off, but Joseph doesn’t because an angel tells him that Mary will bear the Son of God.

Jesus is born and has more brothers and sisters, according to the tradition. He spends his childhood in Nazareth, and at a young age goes to temple to learn and proclaim Gods’ Word.

During his lifetime he meets more Mary’s: Mary of Magdala, who becomes a very good friend and Mary, mother of John, who stands by him at the last moments of his life.   When we speak of Mary, mother of all mothers, we mean Mary, mother of Jesus.  

Searching for Mary

There are only a few Bible texts that speak about Mary (see the Gospels according to Mark, Matthew, Luke and John). In fact, very little was written about Jesus' birth. If wasn't until the First Christians realized the importance of Jesus' message, that they started to appreciate the importance of his biography. 

This is what's come to be known as tradition: at a later stage information about Jesus is combined with older material.  Early Christianity had a lot to explain to the already existing, much older religions. The more wonder and prophecy-stories about Jesus and Mary were told, the more authentic and profound the religion became.

Miracle stories about Mary

In time, many miraculous stories were told about Mary. These originated from folktales, legends and experiences from ordinary people and the official church. These stories were told because the bible left so many questions unanswered: if Mary is Jesus’ mother, what does that say about her own holiness? If Mary is that holy, how did she die?

To provide answers to these and other questions, the church declared the new stories about Mary true. These are the so-called church dogmas. They can't be found in the bible, but are derived from folk traditions. 

Not much women in the bible 

There aren't all that many stories about women in the bible, maybe that’s why Mary always appealed to so many women. Mary is kinda easy to talk to. Maybe just because she is a woman and a mom, and thereby seems closer than God the Father. You can ask her to pray for you and you can ask for her blessing, as this bride did during her wedding day.

A bride asks Mary for her blessing

The bride in her radiant white wedding gown kneels at an icon of Mary. Eyes closed, hands folded. Her blond her catches a ray of sunshine. Silently she speaks words that remain unheard. Behind her everyone waits in silence and awe, while Bach’s’ Ave Maria is softly being played. Then she gets up, tears on her face as she smiles at her groom.

This is not a scene from a play, nor is it a century old, but it is a scene from a modern wedding. The groom, already a dad to two teenage girls, is getting married again to this young, childless bride.

She was there by herself, with her own thoughts, her tradition and the thousands of women who have walked the same path. She prayed Mary for support in her marriage and asked a blessing: the gift of children. In the catholic tradition it is common practice for newlyweds to pray at a Mary statue, while the Ave Maria is being played.

Usually the bride lights a candle in the centerpiece the bride and groom bring themselves. Praying to Mary is taking a moment to stop and think of Jesus’ mother. It’s also a moment to ask her to bless the promises just made. Because Mary, like no one else, knew what it means to truly say yes to the Other, to God.   

I think it means a lot that the young woman is asking help of the mother of all mothers. Unusual? Maybe. Because divorce doesn’t sit well with church tradition, nor does getting remarried. It is like Mary gave this bride courage to enter this marital adventure. 

Asking a blessing means asking for approval. And asking a blessing from Mary or from God, means that asking for approval from the Eternal One. That is quite a thing, since you stand up against the official church that condemns divorce/ remarriage. 

Yet I believe there is room within Faith to ask for this blessing. I even think it is the core of religion: the good wins in the end, the judgments of people are less important than Gods’ Judgment.  Ave Maria (which means: Hail Mary), is the right song to the prayer.

The Ave Maria is Elisabeth’s and Gabriel’s prayer to Mary when she was told to be carrying the Savior: 

Mary full of grace, the Lord is with thee.
Blessed art thou among women,
and blessed is the fruit of thy womb,
for thou hast borne Christ the Savior,
the Deliverer of our souls.
 Amen.   

Ave Maria, Hail Mary  

Many composers, like Verdi, Schubert and Gounod, put music to the prayer. And every day, everywhere in the world, this Hail Mary is being prayed. At home, schools, churches, hospitals, everywhere people ask Mary to take care of them and for her blessing.

It's such a beautiful thing to start the day with a prayer to Mary! To the mother who went through the unimaginable: departing from your son, giving him up for the greater good, watching him suffer. And yet it's also the most joyful feeling a mother can imagine: seeing your child go his own way, fulfilling his destiny.

Isn’t that what makes us a mother? Isn’t that every mother’s goal: watching your children becoming loving people, reaching their goals in life?

 Praying to Mary touches your soul, it is like talking to hundreds of generations of mothers who preceded you and want to show you your direction: this is your destiny, so it must be.

Literally: so be it (=amen).     

Want to read more from Beatrijs?

  Visit her blog! blog

Let it be, there will be an answer, let it be

2009-04-26T12:17:00.004-05:00

I'm still kinda reeling from the shock of my son Jan, not being admitted to the school we chose for him. Last year he was diagnosed with PDD-NOS and the school told us they think he has needs they can't provide for.

When I told him this he listened quietly and then said: 'But they don't even know me!' which is a really good point if you ask me!
Anyway, the search for the right school continues, but I'm very worried and feel as if there's no room for my son at the inn!

As I was fretting and worrying about his future, suddenly this song popped into my head:

'When I find myself in times of trouble,
Mother Mary comes to me,
speaking words of wisdom: Let it be, let it be.
There will be an answer, let it be.'

I felt as if God was speaking to me by giving me this song, and I'm going to try to live its song.

Come join Music Monday and share your songs with us. One simple rule, leave ONLY the actual post link here. You can grab this code at LJL Please note these links are STRICTLY for Music Monday participants only. All others will be deleted without prejudice.

Riches

2009-04-22T01:00:00.003-05:00

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

And God saw that it was good!

2009-04-19T02:25:00.006-05:00

The programme Britain's got talent showed a little bit of God last Saturday, when onto the stage walked a very homely woman. As the public snickered and looked down their noses at her, she awkwardly answered the questions of the jury, who looked very unimpressed.

But then she opened her mouth and out came the most beautiful sound! And the public stood up and applauded her, immediately casting their judgements aside! And the jury sat slackjawed and then smiled.

Her voice was like a gift of God, but the reactions of the public too. It was great to see how people react to something pure and beautiful and let go of their prejudices. There' hope for humanity yet!

And God saw that it was good!

Listen and be moved!

The second day of Easter

2009-04-14T13:13:00.005-05:00

I felt a bit strange, not going to church at all on Easter, so I surfed the internet and found a service the second day of Easter. It was even a youth service, which is always a good thing I think, since they usually cut down on the amount of swollen language and old fashioned words like 'hence' and 'hear ye, hear ye!'

I loaded up the car with my kids and off to church we went. As the choir sang I felt decidly weepy, it was so beautiful. But soon I felt weepy again, but this time because of the kids. Even though it was a youth service it was quite long and there was lots of complicated language. So after about an hour the kids started fidgeting, and pushing each other, and I was hissing for them to be quiet. I couldn't enjoy the beautiful songs and music any more and I too, started longing for the service to end.

Then my son Ot leaned towards me and whispered in a sweet voice: 'You know what mummy? Going to church is even less fun than cleaning up my room.'

So there you have it. Something good came out of it after all.

Thank you God, for giving my son a whole new motivation to clean his room.

Good Friday

2009-04-12T12:00:00.008-05:00

On Good Friday my eldest daughter came home from school looking a bit green around the gills and told me they'd watched a movie of Jesus Christ and his crucifixion. My mind immediately leaped to the conclusion she'd been exposed to Mel Gibson's gruesome The Passion of the Christ.
'The teacher said everyone has to see this movie once!' she explained.
I gave her a nice cup of tea with lots of extra sugar.

I'm happy to say I've reached the honorable age of thirtynine without having seen this gruesome movie. I was scared off by the promise of nails being slammed through legs and lots of splattering blood.

As a mom I would not expose my thirteen year old daughter to such horror. I think she's too young, so I was quite angry that some teacher had taken it upon herself to expose my little girl to this movie. And I decided to speak to the teacher about it and give her a piece of my mind!

Uh-oh.. A couple of days later however, it turned out it was my imagination that was out of line, not the teacher. When I talked to my daughter some more, it turned out the movie wasn't so much The Passion of the Christ, as it was Jesus Christ Superstar! A much more innocent movie altogether!

The mom's mite

2009-04-03T02:11:00.001-05:00

Many a night, when the kids are all tucked in, and are finally, and mercifully silent, I start worrying that I wasn't a good enough mom that day. That I didn't give them all the attention they deserve, that I wasn't there for them enough.

It's an awful feeling of not quite measuring up. And the thing is: I really, réally want to do a good job as a mom and I feel as if I'm giving it all I've got, but it's never quite enough.

Then today, I thought of the story of the widow's mite: she gave all she had, and it was enough.

So now I'm trying to give myself a break: I give all I have to give, therefore I give enough.

Casting no more stones!

2009-03-30T09:33:00.002-05:00

"If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to cast a stone at her."

If there's one lesson motherhood has taught me it's not to cast stones! Whenever I find myself judging other parents it comes back to haunt me.

When I was pregnant with my first child I judged parents who used pacifiers.
'I'm néver going to use those!' I said with all the snobbish certainty of someone who clearly isn't a mom yet. But then our daughter was born and just wouldn't stop crying, so my husband when to the nearest store to buy one, and mercifully the crying stopped.

And as the kids grew older I once visited a neighbour's house, and was taken aback by the many, many children's dvd's. '
I'm never gonna let my kids watch that many dvd's!' I decided then and there. But it's thirteen years later and our bookcase looks like a dvd store.

Like I said: I've learned not to throw stones any more.
'Cause my own house is of glass too.

A good girl

2009-03-27T06:11:00.003-05:00

I do not speak out of turn and I play by the rules of life. I try to do the right thing and I work hard. I suppose I'm what you would call 'a good girl'.

So when I read the story of the lost son I always feel for the eldest. He does everything right, but who gets the big party? Right, the youngest who has squandered his whole inheritance!

And that's not even the worst of it. The worst part is that it's the eldest son who gets the bad press, for resenting his brother and therefore being petty and smallminded.

As a mom I totally understand the love of the father and his joy for having his lost son back, but sometimes it seems as if being bad gets you more love and appreciation.

I suppose this makes me smallminded and petty too, but I really wonder about this.

As a mom I make it my business to appreciate all my kids and not, strange as this may sound, favor the ones that are bad!

The wisdom of Solomon

2009-03-15T07:21:00.000-05:00

As a mom I often sigh: I wish I had the wisdom of Solomon. Sometimes I feel as if all I do is make, carefully thought out, decisions about éverything.

About whether it's warm enough to go out without a jacket, whether it's okay for the youngest to go to the playground all alone, and whether my son really does have a bad case of PDD-NOs, which I highly doubt. But hey, what do I know! I'm not as wise a Solomon. I'm just a mom struggling badly to do a good job.

Yes if only I had the wisdom of Solomon my life would so much easier.

But then I would probably be in prison for suggesting to slice a baby in half.

Look who I found!

2009-03-11T02:31:00.002-05:00

Look who I found in a thrift shop for only 12 dollars?!
Mother Mary, mom of all mothers.

Meeting with God

2009-03-09T07:27:00.001-05:00

It's been quite some time since I went to church. I suppose the last time was on Christmas Eve. That's quite some time, and I wonder: is that a bad thing? Can you be a good Christian but seldomly go to church? And what about the church: doesn't it mean they're doing something wrong that it's so hard to get people to come?

With me, it's just that life gets in the way. During the week I'm so busy getting up early and getting the kids to school. When the weekend comes all I want to do is, well, nothing.

Lately, Sunday morning has become the morning when I go out for a long run. Because my husband is home I finally have the opportunity, and I often feel that during my runs I catch glimpses of God in the beautiful nature that surrounds me. In the songs of the birds and the friendly people that greet me.

So maybe you don't have to go to church to think about God or meet him. Perhaps you can meet him everywhere.

Something to tide me over, while waiting for the second coming

2009-03-04T04:31:00.002-06:00

The Easter Bunnies have come!

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

I tell you, get up, take your fears and worries and go home

2009-02-27T08:55:00.006-06:00

Fear can paralyse you. So can insecurity. Unfortunately I'm well acquainted with both. They come for a visit every day, and even though I tell them they're not welcome, they always get their foot in the door. Once they're in, they quickly make themselves comfortable and eat all my favorite chips.

I fear something happening with my kids, I have fears about the future, insecurities about my performance as a mom, fears about what others might think of me, the list of things to fear is endless.

But I don't want to be paralysed by fear and insecurity: I want to live my life to the fullest. How do I do that?

Jesus simply tells the paralysed man to take his bed and get up! According to Anselm Grün, a Benedictine monk, the bed symbolises the fears and worries that have kept the man paralysed. He doesn't heal him from his worries and fear: he simply tells him to take them with him.

So that's what I'm going to try and do: I won't let my fears paralyse me anymore! I'll just grab them and take them home with me. They are a part of me after all, so maybe I'd better welcome them in and try and live with them.

Then maybe we can share the chips.

Open your eyes!

2009-02-17T09:25:00.004-06:00

I love the sounds of children playing. The soft ticking of duplo blocks being put together, the light rumble of dice falling and the sound of paper being colored to shreds. As a mom I know no greater bliss than children who can play endlessly.

But my kids don't like duplo blocks, they think games are 'dull' and as for coloring: they've been there, done that and got the t-shirt.

As I was mourning my children's lack of playing skills I suddenly heard the sound of child's play: 'Boing boing, 'Tsk, tsk, tsk' and 'bleep bleep bleep.' They were the sounds of my children playing on their Nintendo endlessly and playing games on the computer.

As I was wishing for my kids to play for hours on end I missed the fact that they already do. Only not as I thought they should.

So not only do you have to be careful what you wish for, you should look around you to make sure your wish hasn't already be granted and you've missed it.

This reminds me of the story by Annie Lamott in her book Traveling Mercies:

A man is sitting at a bar getting drunk in Alaska. Hes telling the bartender about how he recently lost his faith in God after his twin engine plane crashed in the tundra.
'Yeah,' he says bitterly, I lay there in the wreckage praying with all of my might and crying out to God to save me, and he didnt raise a finger to help me. I'm through believing in a God who doesnt care about what happens to me.'
'But youre here talking to me,' says the bartender, 'You were saved.'
'Yeah, that's right,' says the man, 'because finally some Eskimo came along. . .'

So now I remind myself every day to open my eyes so I can see and hear God's messages.

Cock-a-doodle-doo!

2009-02-13T05:30:00.005-06:00

Of all Jesus' disciples I have always disliked Peter. He was such a bigmouth, and when it came down to it he was always the first to be scared or chicken out.

Take for example the 'storm incident', when he started to walk on water and then got scared. Or when he kept falling alseep on Jesus in his hour of need in the garden of Gethsemane. But his biggest foul must have been his betrayal of Jesus, flat out denying he was one of his disciples. (Matthew 26:71-75)

Every time I heard this story I hoped Peter would keep his promise and nót betray Jesus, but every time he did. And when the rooster crowed three times I shook my head at such an unpleasant person.

So it is with great reluctance that I admit: I may be more like Peter than I'ld like. Sometimes when I get together with my girlfriends and we bash our husbands, I can almost hear the rooster's lonely cry. Or last Monday, when we had a parent teacher meeting and my husband said something all the other parents thought was stupid. Didn't I lean away from him just a little bit? Cock-a-doodle-doo.

So when I think of Peter now, I think of him as someone who had a lot to learn. And so do I.

And really, there's nothing wrong with that!

I believe

2009-02-08T06:30:00.002-06:00

As a child I firmly believed in heaven. I pictured Jesus sitting up there in his white robe on a beautiful throne surrounded by angels and children. And I believed that in heaven you would meet everyone who had died on you.

This belief was a great band aid when my grandmother died. Sure I was sad, but some day, somewhere I was sure we would meet up again, and maybe go grab a cup of coffee together. Obviously I also had a great belief in Starbucks. I was worried though about what would happen when someone married again after the loss of a spouse. Because in heaven you would have two spouses.

I don't think of heaven that way anymore. I'm not sure what I think anymore. I'm searching, feeling my way forwards.

Here's what I have found out so far:

I do not believe that God is up there somewhere watching us, judging us.
I do not believe that we, as the human race, are inheritantly sinnfull. I think we are capable of tremendous good and tremendous bad.
I do not believe you should take the bible literally. It's written by humans after all, quite some years after Jesus died. But that doesn't mean it's not a wonderful source of wisdom, guidance and good.

So what do I believe?

I believe God is good.
I believe God is like a parent wanting the best for us, but like a parent he can't take away the obstacles we face in life. He can only be there for us.
I believe Jesus was a great man who, even though he only lived to be 33, has provided us with a beautiful example of how to live life.
I believe God is in all of us.
I believe it's wonderful to believe in God.
I believe God provides safety and comfort.

So as I continue my journey I believe God is my travelling companion.
I believe I'm not alone.

Forever

2009-02-04T03:27:00.006-06:00

Isaiah 40:8 The grass withereth, the flower fadeth: but the word of our God shall stand for ever.

Wordless Wednesday

The second coming

2009-02-02T07:40:00.006-06:00

I grew up in the country and visited a small local school. We read books about little boys called Lucifer who got away with stealing a cooky in chapter one, and were riddled with guilt for the rest of the book.

We started every day with a story from the bible and I listened mesmerized when that mean Delila betrayed Samson and made him get a really bad hair cut giving a whole new meaning to 'a bad hair day'. And how poor Eli broke his neck when he keeled over in his chair. From then on I made sure I didn't lean too far back!

On a gloomy day in January our teacher showed us a newspaper clipping picturing the the Shroud of Turin telling us about the promise of Jesus' return. I was all excited expecting Jesus back any day. Every day I looked at the sky to see if he was coming, and on beautiful sunny days, when the sky was a beautiful Teletubby blue I was sure: this is the day Jesus is coming back! In my mind I saw him descending on the same cloud he left on.

Now I'm almost forty years old, and sometimes I still scan the sky looking for Jesus, but I also feel a strong connection to spiritual christianity, the way it's described by Anneke Pokerman in her book 'Letting go of the church'.

Spiritual Christianity emphasises Jesus as a guide, helping us find our inner spirit, the Christ within us. And maybe the long awaited return of Jesus isn't far and away and everywhere all at once, but personal. He may be coming back to every person individually, when that person is able to recognize and meet him.

Footprints in the sand

2009-01-29T12:46:00.005-06:00

During thirteen years of motherhood I have lost the ability to eat like a lady. Because I have to be the cook, the waiter and the guest all at the same time I shovel my food inside my mouth like there's no tomorrow. That leaves me a lot of time waiting for the kids to finish their meal, so I use this time to be good mom and read them stories from the bible.

But after several years of reading the same stories over and over again the kids started yelling: 'Simson, Delila is setting you up!' and when the sheep was lost they yelled: 'He'll find him again. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt!'

So I decided it was time for something different. And with great care I chose the beautiful poem 'Footprints in the sand'.

With my voice quivering with emotion I read the poem to them, and I felt my eyes welling up as I read the part about God carrying you through the hard parts of life. Then I looked expectantly at my kids waiting for their cries of wonder and joy.

'Mummy, how could he walk next to you if he was lying down?' Jan asked.
'No Jan, I didn't say he was lying down, I said he was walking!'
'No you didn't! You said he was lying down, so that doesn't make sense.'
'No it doesn't!' Teuntje agreed.
'And it's freezing outside, so there wouldn't be any footprints!' Ot added.
'I thought God is in heaven. What was he doing on the beach?' Piet asked.

I took a deep breath and thought: 'This must be one of those moments when God is carrying me...'

Footprints in the Sand

Last night I had a dream. I dreamed I was walking along the beach with the Lord. Across the sky flashed scenes from my life. For each scene, I noticed two sets of footprints in the sand: one belonged to me, the other to the Lord.

After the last scene of my life flashed before me, I looked back at the footprints in the sand. I noticed that at many times along the path of my life, especially at the very lowest and saddest times, there was only one set of footprints.

This really troubled me, so I asked the Lord about it. “Lord, you said once I decided to follow you, You’d walk with me all the way. But I noticed that during the saddest and most troublesome times of my life, there was only one set of footprints. I don’t understand why, when I needed You the most, You would leave me.”

The Lord replied, “My son, my precious child, I love you and I would never leave you. During your times of suffering, when you could see only one set of footprints, it was then that I carried you.

Ask and thou will be given?

2009-01-21T07:46:00.008-06:00

And Jabes called upon the God of Israel, saying: If blessing thou wilt bless me, and wilt enlarge my borders, and thy hand be with me, and thou save me from being oppressed by evil. And God granted him the things he prayed for.
1 chronicles, 4:1

With growing enthusiasm I read Elizabeth Gilberts book Eat, Pray, Love: One Woman's Search for Everything Across Italy, India and Indonesia. In fact I regularly had to put it down to think and wonder about everything I was reading.

One of the things that touched me was the part about praying and the requests and questions you can ask God.

'I explained to Ida my personal opinions about prayer. Namely, that I don't feel comfortable petitioning for specific things from God, because that feels to me like a kind of weakness of faith. I don't like asking, 'Will you change this or that thing in my life that's difficult for me?' Because - who knows? - God might want me to be facing that particular challenge for a reason. Instead, I feel more comfortable praying for the courage to face whatever occurs in my life with equanimity, no matter how things turn out.'
Iva listened politely, then asked, 'Where'd you get that stupid idea?'
'What do you mean?'
'Where did you get the idea that you aren't allowed to petition the universe with prayer? You are part of this universe, Liz. You're a consituent - you have every entitlement to participate in the actions of the universe, and let your feelings be known. So put your opinion out there. Make your case. Believe me - it will at least be taken in to consideration.'

After this conversation Elizabeth goes on to write God a request asking him to help her husband agree to the divorce. Soon after her phone rings: it's her lawyer telling her the divorce is finalized. Coincidink? Or God?

The idea of being free to ask God anything feels liberating. Like Elizabeth I thought the only thing you can ask is the wisdom to accept life as it presents itself to you. Not that you could actually request certain things! I feel like a kid in the candy store: 'What do I want to ask God?'

What to ask?

The first thing that pops into my mind is to ask for my children's happiness, and asking for good health for all of us.
Then I'm silent. It's not as easy as I thought to know what to ask for.

Asking for problems?

In Buddhism problems are thought to be essential for a fullfilling life of personal growth, so they actually have a prayer asking for problems. But though I do appreciate the growth that comes from facing problems, to pray for them? I think not. I'm sure they'll present themselves without God's help.

Maybe I should pray to God for the knowledge what to pray for?

What would you pray for?

Gift from God

2009-01-14T01:49:00.001-06:00

God even framed her for me.

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

How to recognize the hand of God?

2009-01-07T09:09:00.002-06:00

In Luke 4: 1-13 the devil subjects Jesus to a series of tests. In one of them he challenges Jesus to jump off a tall temple, taunting him, that if he is truly the son of God, surely God will save him.

12 Jesus answered, "It says: 'Do not put the Lord your God to the test.'

This story made a great impression on me as a child, and it's something I still ponder about. How does this story translate to day to day life, and how do I live by it? For example: I can certainly understand I should be careful crossing the street, and not just trust God to rescue me from a nasty demise by a big lorry!

On the other hand, I read and hear a lot about letting things go, and putting one's trust in God's hands. To trust things will work out just the way they were supposed to.

But how do you know when to trustingly let go and when to take action? When is it time to do something and when is it time to simply say: 'Thy will, not mine be done'?

And how do you recognize the hand of God? I certainly wouldn't want to be this guy!

A man is caught in a flood. As the waters rise, a boat comes along and offers the man a ride to safety.
“No thanks,” the man says, proud of his level of faith in God, “I believe God will save me.”
“Suit yourself,” the man in the boat shrugs, as he drives off to help other people, and the waters continue to rise, forcing the man to the second floor of his home. However, as we waits for the hand of God to personally save him, another boat comes along and tells him to get in while he can, because the flood waters are showing no signs of receding.
“No thanks,” the man again says proudly, emboldened by the unique opportunity to prove his faith in God. “I believe God will save me.”
“Suit yourself,” the man in the second boat says, shaking his head, as he veers off to help other stranded homeowners. In the meantime, the rising flood waters force the man to his roof, where he is finally spotted by a rescue helicopter.
“Grab the rope and climb aboard,” the man in the helicopter yells to him above the din of the rotating blades.
“No thanks!” the man on the roof yells back, still certain that a miracle will happen to save him from drowning. Therefore, unable to convince the man to climb into the helicopter, the rescue team goes off in search of others willing to be rescued.
Sure enough, the water rises to the roof, and then above the man’s head, and he drowns. Shortly after, he finds himself in Heaven, waiting to be brought before the Heavenly Court. After some time, and a lot of angry pacing back-and-forth by the drowned man, an angel comes out to call him in to the inner chamber. However, before the Chief Magistrate can say a word, the man bursts out and cries,
“Where were you?! I invested all of my faith in you, that you would save my life as you always promised you would if I had faith, and you go ahead and let me drown! What kind of reward for faith was that?”
For a long moment, there is silence in the Court Room, as if the man has made a valid point. Until, that is, the Chief Magistrate leans forward and says calmly, but firmly,
“What do you mean? Who do you think sent you the two boats and the helicopter?!”

I have so many questions.
Should I take action to find the answers, or should I wait for them?

Meeting with God

2009-01-02T09:30:00.002-06:00

After the birth of my fourth child, my son Ot, we had someone come in to help while I recuperated. During the eight days she took care of me and Ot, and kept the household running she told me about her love for running. She explained how it gave her a feeling of calm and serenity.

For me running was about the stupidest sport there ever was. Running around with nowhere to go? Getting all sweaty? Yuck! I looked at runners with a mixture of pity and reluctance. But the promise of peace and calm touched a deep longing inside of me.

I have always experienced the birth of a child as a kind of life crisis. A breaking point in my life, where old patterns are broken down and there's room for new insights. Maybe that's why, for the first time in my life, my mind opened up to the idea of running.

After I'd recuperated I found a training programme for beginners and started to take twenty minute walks, during which I wore Ot wrapped around me with a sling. I came home exhausted but exhilerated at the same time. Slowly but surely I progressed from walking to running and after about four months I could run for thirty minutes.

That's almost eight years ago, and I'm still running.

For me this caretaker was a meeting with God. She came into my life at a time I was open and responsive to new insights and gave me the gift of finding peace of mind through running. To regain my balance and to find myself.

I feel it's the most beautiful gift.

Raising kids without a helmet since 1995...

2008-12-31T07:59:00.005-06:00

... but I believe God will catch me.

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

I believe

2008-12-29T04:54:00.006-06:00

I don't find life all that easy, but I suppose that's just life being life!

But amidst life being life I'ld like to believe there's something bigger, something good. That's why I just love this song:

I believe for every drop of rain that falls,
A flower grows,
I believe that somewhere in the darkest night,
A candle glows.
I believe for everyone who goes astray,
Someone will come to show the way.
I believe,
I believe.

I believe above the storm the smallest prayer,
Will still be heard.
I believe that someone in the great somewhere,
Hears every word.
Every time I hear a new born baby cry,
Or touch a leaf or see the sky.
Then I know why,
I believe.

Every time I hear a new born baby cry,
Or touch a leaf or see the sky.
Then I know why,
I believe.

Revelation

2008-12-27T03:57:00.001-06:00

My son Ot (7) has had a revelation this Christmas: little baby Jesus is a boy! Apparently all this time he thought little baby Jesus was a girl.

He found out this amazing news during the christmas service for children on Christmas eve. To celebrate the birth of little baby Jesus all kinds of blue cookies were served, which led Ot to conclude that he must be a boy.

'Mommy did you know that little baby Jesus was a boy?!' he asked me excitedly.
'Yes I did.'
'I thought he was a girl, but then I saw the blue cookies!'

Isn't it amazing the way children's minds work? I hadn't even considered the possibility that little baby Jesus was a girl.

But now Ot has got me thinking. I know that Jesus was in fact a boy, but I suppose he could just as easily been a girl. Just like God may be female.

And does it even matter?

Do we as adults close the minds of young children?

So many questions, so few answers.
I can't wait to have a few revelations of my own.

I've found Jesus!

2008-12-23T06:06:00.004-06:00

Look who I found! Little baby Jesus. And I didn't even have to follow a star to find him. All it took was cleaning out my cupboards.

I have fond memories about little baby Jesus. When I was a child, me and my sisters used to bash each others heads in while fighting over who could hold him. All the while my poor mom desperately tried to make us see the error of our ways by playing music like 'Peace on earth...'

Anyway it looks like I'm the winner, because now at the age of 39 guess who's got little baby Jesus?!

Am I a Mary or a Martha

2008-12-21T08:31:00.007-06:00

'Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to what he was saying.

But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me."

But the Lord answered her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her" (Luke 10:38-42).

As a mom I often wonder which role I play: Martha or Mary. Am I busy, busy, busy, keeping the house, preparing the meals? Or am I Mary, who takes the time to stop and listen?

As a child I felt sorry for Martha. She was running around, doing all the work alone, while her lazy sister played nice to Jesus. And when she asked Jesus to back her up, he instead told her that Mary chose 'the better part'.

Aw shucks! I always thought hard work paid off, not sitting around.

But I guess the lesson is about getting your priorities right. That taking time to listen to people is more important than taking care that your house is clean. Certainly, when I visit my in-laws, who are always rushing around getting me coffee or something, I wish they would just sit down and talk to me!

As a mom I ususally try to be Martha and Mary all at once. While I cook and clean I'm available for the kids to tell their stories, to kiss their scrapes and generally I'm just 'there'.

Which one are you?
Are you a Martha or a Mary?

Mother Mary

2008-12-18T05:17:00.003-06:00

Becoming a mom, that first moment when you hold that small, wet little baby in your arms is indescribable.

Nothing is the same after that. Suddenly you share the leading part on the stage of your life, and your storyline becomes entwined with the storyline of your child. You always were someone's child, but now you're someone's parent too. From now on your happiness is connected to the happiness of your child.

When I held my children for the first time a feeling of utter protectiveness overwhelmed me. I never wanted anything bad or unpleasant to happen to them and I wanted to protect them from all pain. I wished them nothing but goodness in their life.

Perhaps this is why, around Christmas time, my mothering heart goes out to Mary, who gave birth to her little boy in a stable. A child that did the most remarkable things in his life. A child she lost to death.

That's why I simply love the lyrics to the song 'Mary, did you know?'.
It's a song to a mom, and it reads like a letter from one mom to another.

Mary, did you know?

[Originally written by Mark Lowry and Buddy Greene]

Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy would one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy would save our sons and daughters?
Did you know
that your Baby Boy has come to make you new?
This Child that you delivered will soon deliver you.

Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy will give sight to a blind man?
Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy will calm the storm with His hand?
Did you know
that your Baby Boy has walked where angels trod?
When you kiss your little Baby you kissed the face of God?

Mary did you know.. Ooo Ooo Ooo

The blind will see.
The deaf will hear.
The dead will live again.
The lame will leap.
The dumb will speak
The praises of The Lamb.

Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy is Lord of all creation?
Mary, did you know
that your Baby Boy would one day rule the nations?
Did you know
that your Baby Boy is heaven's perfect Lamb?
The sleeping Child you're holding is the Great, I Am.

On which road are you?

2008-12-17T01:02:00.002-06:00

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

Jesus versus Santa

2008-12-15T04:35:00.002-06:00

To my dismay I have discovered that, to my youngest son Piet (5), Christmas seems to be more about Santa Clause than the birth of little Jesus! Admittedly, Santa ís all around: being jolly at the mall, in the shops and on tv. If I were Jesus I'ld be sure to fire my publicity people, because obviously they're not doing a very good job.

So I've started a campaign to instill in Piet the knowledge that Christmas is the celebration of the birth of Jesus and Santa has got nothing to do with it. My campaign is based on a careful mix of slandering Santa (he can't be healthy, he's way too fat) and telling the story of Jesus' birth.

I'm feeling quite positive because yesterday Piet asked me: 'Jesus will be born soon?'
I nodded excitedly.
'Will little Jesus join my class?' Piet asked hopefully.

So I think my campagains has been succesfull. But just in case, I have a plan B: If you can't beat them, join them:

Let your love shine a light!

2008-12-10T01:30:00.002-06:00

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

Am I my brother's keeper?

2008-12-09T04:20:00.001-06:00

I have five children who keep tabs on each other all the time. This regularly leads to screams like: 'Mind your own business!' and 'You're always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong!'

But like a coin has two sides, so has their meddlesomeness. The positive side is that they really care about each other. For example, when my youngest Piet (5) was sick, the others graciously let him choose the tv channel, a privelege they normally fight over like cats and dogs.

So in answer to the question 'Am I my brother's keeper?' the answer of my children is a resounding: 'Yes!'

As a mom this makes me very happy.
I hope that when they're all grown-up they'll still be each other's keeper.

'You will reap what you sow'

2008-12-06T04:01:00.002-06:00

Every day I walk my kids to school, and often lots of neighbourhood children join us. Sometimes I feel like the Pied Piper!

But last Friday I was by car because I had run some errands. As I was gathering my children, a little neighbourhood boy skidded to a stop with his scooter just before he hit me and shouted happily: Hello Otsmom*!'

'Hi Armand! Today I'm by car!'
'Ooh...' he replied looking all woebegone, so I said: 'You know what? Just throw your scooter in the back of the car, and you can drive home with us.'

A few days later I went to pick up the kids up again, and I was wearing this stupid hat, because I'ld just washed my hair and was afraid of catching a cold. Along came Armand, who took one look at me and said: 'You look great with that hat, Otsmom!' then he slipped his hand in mine and whispered: 'I drove in you car Otsmom'.

It made me think of the saying: 'You will reap what you sow.'
I had sown some friendliness and helpfullness and I harvested friendliness and a little hand in mine!

*My fourth child's name is Ot, and the neighbourhood children call me 'Otsmom'

The ultimate child t-shirt

2008-12-03T11:40:00.005-06:00

I'm sure Adam could have used one of these in Paradise!

When Monday collides with Wednesday you get: 'Not me! Monday!'

Also: for more Wordless Wednesday go here

Dinner at the table

2008-12-02T07:32:00.010-06:00

Henry Nouwen, a catholic priest and professor, says in his book: 'Bread for the journey', that the table you sit down at to eat, is the barometer of your family life.

So he calls on us to make mealtimes a moment to connect with each other. This really touched me, and made me think about the mealtimes I have with my five children.

I have dinner with them every day at five o'clock. My husband doesn't get home until seven o'clock, and we've always found this to be too late for the children, so there's six of us.

At four o'clock I start preparing the food and set the table. I put down six plates, forks and knives and a glass of water for the children to prevent them from whining for one later!

We have a very long table, which comes from the house my father grew up in as a child. He was the seventh of thirteen children, so that explains the long table! On the wall behind the table I've put up a picture of The Last Supper by Leonardo da Vinci. I found it at a thrift shop and loved it immediately. It makes me feel part of something bigger when we have our dinner.

At five o'clock the kids flock around the table, because they quite like mealtime! We all sit down, and The Child of The Day* gets to say grace.

As we share the food, we share our thoughts and our selves. Even though mealtimes with five children aren't always very harmonious I still think of it as a time to be cherished.

But at the same time I often find myself so busy, serving the dinner, cleaning it up, admonishing the kids to eat, that I wolf down my own food as if there's no tomorrow. I'm too busy to enjoy and appreciate sitting down and having a meal with my five children! Isn't that sad and kinda stupid?!

So my tip for Tuesday's tip jar is to have dinner at the table and to take a step back from all the fuss and muss of cooking, serving and eating a dinner at the same time, and really 'break bread' with your children.

*From Monday to Friday every child gets to be Child of the Day which means he or she gets to say grace.

I'm all shook up

2008-11-28T11:06:00.003-06:00

I've been having some troubles at school. Mostly with the teachers finding fault with my children, and then implying I'm being 'difficult' when I don't see the problem. To be clear: I always see problems everywhere! Show me a molehill and I'll make a mountain of it. But sometimes I honestly do not see the problem, so I can't do anything about it. As dr.Phil always says: 'You have to own the problem!' Well I don't, and I don't wanna borrow it either!

Today I made the mistake of asking one of the teachers an innocent question and she released some pent up frustrations, telling me I was being 'difficult' and wasn't acknowledging the problem with my son Jan. We parted on seemingly good terms, but when I left the building I could feel tears burning.

I feel as if these last weeks life has been shaking me around, and I feel unbalanced and unsure of where I'm going and who I'm supposed to be.There are times when I think I've found my footing, but then something happens and there I go again.

I don't like feeling down in the dumps and I find myself trying to think my way out of it. But then I think: 'Just let it be. Maybe you're supposed to learn something and this is God's way of helping you do that.'

And I think that maybe this melancholy feeling is like a walk through the desert. If so, I'll just have to continue on this journey through the desert until I reach the promised land.

Suddenly, this Beatles song popped into my head:

'When I find yourself in times of trouble,
Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom.
Let it be, let it be. Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be,
There will be an answer, let it be, let it be.'

So I suppose that's what I'll do: I'll let my melancholy feelings be.

Just call me Sinterklaas

2008-11-25T05:15:00.005-06:00

I'm not a craftsmom. It would even be fair to say that I réálly dislike doing crafts. And I'm very bad at it. So when my son's teacher told me there had been complaints about Jans presents at school I felt bad, but not all that surprised.

Every year there's a sort of lottery at school, at which every child draws the name of another child, for whom he then has to buy a present.

All this is to celebrate the anniversary of Sinterklaas, named after St.Nicholas*. This wouldn't be so bad, but you have to do something creative and funny with the present. You can't just wrap it up and say: 'There you go! Have fun!'

Over the years Jan has usually resorted to decorating an old shoe box and putting his present in there. Obviously this wasn't cute enough.

So today I made paper mache with the children and plastered two balloons with the stuff.

So I'll toot my own horn because I did a craft project, even though I suck at doing crafts, and it wasn't even my own craft project.

Toot!

* In the Netherlands, Saint Nicholas' Eve (December 5) is the primary occasion for gift-giving, when his reputed birthday is celebrated. In this case, roles are reversed, though, in that Sinterklaas is the one who gives the presents.

Sunday Shopping versus The Lord's Day

2008-11-24T13:24:00.002-06:00

More and more shops open up on Sundays.

And yet Sunday used to be a day of rest, a time to stop and think. It was the Lord's day. God took a rest after six days of hard work and so did we.

As a child Sundays meant no playdates. It also meant putting on Sunday clothes, eating vegetable soup and sometimes going to church. I found Sundays quite boring, but they were certainly different from the rest of the week.

At the same time I can understand the attraction of a 24-hour economy. With people working all week it really comes in handy to be able to do your shopping on Sundays too.

And you don't háve to go out. If you want, you can still maintain your Sunday rest, can't you?

The Dutch Protestant Church is protesting against the 24-hour economy. And I think it is doing this in a very humorous and attractive way, by presenting itself the same way shops do, but actually offering a better deal!

Tooting my own horn

2008-11-18T07:02:00.004-06:00

This morning I brought my kids to school, and then hurried home to get changed into my running clothes. I was all decked out like a modern day runner when the phone rang.

It was my sister who'd had a parent-teacher conference and had been told her daughter had some serious behavioral problems. So we talked for a while until she felt better and then said our goodbyes.

I looked at the clock: I had about two hours left, before I had to pick up the kids from school again at 11.45. So I ran out the door for my twelve kilometers run, hoping to catch a glimpse of God while I was at it.

Running helps me put things in perspective, to find me again, and yes sometimes I do meet little pieces of God. In the beautiful colours of the Fall leaves, or sometimes right inside of me. Running provides the quiet needed for God to let me hear his voice.

By eleven o'clock I got home again: three quarters of an hour left to prepare a hot meal and take a shower! So I threw some pots and pans on the stove, started baking the sausages, and while they were baking peeled the potatoes. I threw some red cabbage in another pot and then, when everything was cooking nicely, I ran upstairs for that quick shower.

At 11.40 I was dressed and ready to go get the kids again. They had their meal and then I took them back to school again at 12.45.

And while I did all this I couldn't help but think: this is mothering on a high level! So I'm tooting my own horn, because I managed to get in a twelve kilometers run and provided a nutrious meal for my children.

And did I mention it was raining?!

Images of God

2008-11-14T02:03:00.010-06:00

When I was a child, like many, I had an image of God as an old wise man, with a beard. I imagined him peeking through the clouds now and then to see how we were all doing, and I often tried to catch him at it.

I imagined him living in heaven, sitting on a beautiful throne surrounded by angels.

My picture of Jesus was just as pretty. I pictured him as a beautiful, friendly man with long brown hair a neatly trimmed beard, and dressed in a white gown with a piece of rope around his middle.

Now I sometimes wonder: are these images childish? Are they a sign of being young and religiously immature?

At thirtynine I don't really know anymore what God and Jesus look like. They've become more abstract to me. But I remember my childhood images vividly and I still think they are beautiful.

So now I'm wondering: what does God look like, and does it even matter? What if there was a book of mugshots of God, which one would I identify as God?

And should one even try to capture God in a picture?
Or is God too big to be represented as an image?

Ten Things Tuesday

2008-11-11T04:10:00.000-06:00

I'm thankful for my five children and my husband
I'm thankful the plummer didn't show up, so I could go for a run
I'm thankful for the beautiful colors of fall
I'm thankful for being able to be a stay at home mom
I'm thankful for all the wonderful opportunities life brings
I'm thankful for my spiritual awakening
I'm thankful that the roof of our car leaks, but it drives just fine
I'm thankful for learning I don't need material stuff to be happy
I'm thankful for finding Marie Bellet's music when I was at a low point in my life
I'm thankful for my youngest son's hugs and kisses.

I'm thankful for feeling thankful.

Then Things Tuesday

Tag I'm it!

2008-11-11T01:37:00.000-06:00

I was Book tagged by Jean Chia aka Ms.Yummi-licious.

These are the rules

1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 56.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next two to five sentences.
5. Don’t dig for your favorite book, the cool book or the intellectual one. Pick the Closest.
6. Tag five people to do the same

The book closest to me was Home Another Way from Christa Parish. It's about a self-centered, spoilt city girl who moves to the country, where she finds peace through the flawed, faithful people of the village.

Here come the sentences!

'Gray branches stuck up from the snow, dead leaves clinging to the tips. I was those leaves, shivery and desperate, waiting helplessly to be swept away by the slightest breeze.'

Now, who to tag? Hmm...

I know!
Corrie, Rene, Shera, Courtney, Deidre, you're it!

Marriage should carry love, not the other way around

2008-11-10T02:35:00.000-06:00

A Dutch minister said that nowadays too many people think marriage is there just for them. They think of marriage as a personal opportunity to grow. But marriage is there to take care of each other, not just yourself.

Love shouldn't carry a marriage, because then, when the love dwindles or gets lost for a while, there's no marriage! So it should be the other way around.

Marriage should carry love. Marriage is the foundation of the relationship, and when at times the love is dwindling, the house of marriage stays strong. And by staying faithful to each other love will once again blossom.

I gather great strength from this, because at times, when my husband is farting away it's sometimes hard to remember the love. But our bond of marriage is strong, and therefore our love too.

God of love, not God of wrath

2008-11-08T09:57:00.000-06:00

Today my daughter Teuntje (9) came home crying.

'Hey Teuntje, why are you crying?'
'Because Lisa said daddy is going to go to hell, because he doesn't believe in God!' and she sobbed her little heart out.

I felt so sorry for her! That is such a cruel thing to say, and I feel it's decidedly unchristian to say things like that.

But I must admit, I wasn't all that surprised, because I know this girl's mom, and she too has told me I'm going to hell. Even though I dó believe in God. But according to her, not in the right way. She was quite nice about it, really. But I must say: she didn't seem very sorry for me! It would have been nice if she'd uttered some regrets about my hellish trip.

Now, I can take it, but obviously a little child can't. So I tried my best to comfort Teuntje by telling her that of course, her daddy wouldn't go to hell.

Because I teach my children about a God of love, not a god of wrath.

Inspirational song and video!

2008-11-07T08:19:00.001-06:00

During a particularly long and hot summer vacation, when I was heavily pregnant with my fifth child I stumbled upon Marie Bellet's song Ordinary Time.

This song really moved me and gave me courage to go on, when all I wanted to do was cry and then cry some more.

It's about being a mom, and your work as a mom really being God's work.

So the last shall be first, and the first last.

2008-11-06T07:41:00.000-06:00

As a child my teacher told us that: 'The last shall be first, and the first last.'

I went home that day, a very worried child. Because my father drove a mercedes and my parents took us out for dinner regularly, it seemed obvious to me that, at that moment, we were the first. Surely this did nót bode well for the future!

In my mind I saw us dressed in raggs, all hungry and filthy. I was most concerned and didn't want to sit in the mercedes anymore, nor did I want to go out for dinner. If I couldn't save my family, at least I could save myself!

Thankfully my mom saw me struggling and told me not to worry.

Nevertheless, I never felt good about the mercedes, and I'm glad my husband and I drive an old battered minivan!

Little Lord and Our Lord

2008-11-05T07:49:00.000-06:00

Confused by the names 'Little lord' and 'Our Lord,' as I child I thought God looked like the Little Lord persona in the popular child series Tita Tovenaar (Tita the wizard). Tita was a young girl who live with her father in a castle way up in the sky where they tried to magically change strawberries into camels.

So I used to picture God in an ochre-coloured suit, with a friendly round face.

To this day I can remember the sound of his indignant voice when he was magically moved again by Tita Tovenaar!

About Relimom

2008-06-03T05:35:00.000-05:00

I think there's a God.
But where is he, or she?
What does he mean to me?
Where does the church come in?
Wat does faith really mean?
Is there a deeper truth?
What do I want to teach my children about God?

So many questions.

The bible says: 'Seek and you will find.'

So I will seek.