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

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?

Read the rest of the Post >

Light under a bushel?

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.

Read the rest of the Post >

I get by with a little help from my friends

Because sometimes you need all the help you can get.

Wordless Wednesday

Read the rest of the Post >

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

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.

Read the rest of the Post >

The second day of Easter

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.

Read the rest of the Post >

Good Friday

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!

Read the rest of the Post >

The mom's mite

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.

Read the rest of the Post >

Casting no more stones!

"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.

Read the rest of the Post >

The wisdom of Solomon

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.

Read the rest of the Post >

Open your eyes!

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.

Read the rest of the Post >

Footprints in the sand

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.

Read the rest of the Post >

Gift from God

God even framed her for me.

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

Read the rest of the Post >

Raising kids without a helmet since 1995...

... but I believe God will catch me.


For more Wordless Wednesday go here

Read the rest of the Post >

Revelation

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.

Read the rest of the Post >

I've found Jesus!

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?!

Read the rest of the Post >

Am I a Mary or a Martha

'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?

Read the rest of the Post >

Mother Mary

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.

Read the rest of the Post >

Jesus versus Santa

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:

Read the rest of the Post >

Let your love shine a light!

For more Wordless Wednesday go here

Read the rest of the Post >

Am I my brother's keeper?

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.

Read the rest of the Post >