“She watches over the affairs of her householdand does not eat the bread of idleness.”
– Proverbs 31:27 BSB
In the early days of our marriage, John and I watched The Untouchables, the Prohibition-era thriller about crime boss Al Capone (Robert De Niro) and Prohibition agent Eliot Ness (Kevin Costner). The only thing I remember about the film is that I hated the violence–and one scene where Ness calls home to his wife. After getting off the telephone, he says to the other men in the room, “Some part of the world still cares what color the kitchen is.” I identified with that line, and never forgot it.
I got a lot of pushback from some fellow moms over my encouragement for people (especially mothers) to stop reading the Epstein Files. One commented that I was the kind of person who would simply sit and pray and hope Goliath would stop killing the Philistines. In a way, she was right. And this goes for my role and perspective toward all of the evils of this world. I am mama bear, the Keeper of My Home, and I will learn about the evils that are coming at my family–from dangers online, to the corrupt food industry, to the dangers of trafficking. I will learn just enough about these evils to know how to best keep my family safe–and no more. I will learn just enough, and I will pray.
Not because I don’t want these evils stopped–I do. But I will not be the one on the front lines tackling criminals to the ground, tracking down traffickers in the night, or fighting court battles. Some women do, and I am grateful for the females who are there to help other women and children in these vulnerable situations. Social workers, doctors, nurses, and others who step in to provide much needed care. But that is not my personal calling. I am a wife and homeschooling mother. For me to pour over the perverse, violent details of these crimes would do nothing to advance the cause of justice. What it would do is waste my precious time, numb my mind to evil, and fill my thoughts with grotesque images, where it should filled with beauty–beauty that I want to bestow on the lives of my children.
“I want you to be wise about what is goodand innocent about what is evil.”-Romans 16:19
Having our home and family as our first priority does not mean we stop caring about the anyone outside our family, or stop supporting the cause of justice and the defense of the helpless. God tells us to do this, and we can, through contacting our Representatives, donating to organizations that work to end injustice, signing petitions, participating in peaceful marches, volunteering at women’s shelters or pregnancy centers, fostering, adopting, or being a temporary safe home for children, and by showing hospitality. These are far more useful ways of impacting our communities and world for good than going down endless rabbit holes reading of the evils of this world.
“She opens her arms to the poorand reaches out her hands to the needy.”-Proverbs 31:20 BSB
The other accusation against women who don’t want to read all of the Epstein Files, or be fully informed about every evil going on in the world, is that we’re being like an ostrich with our heads in the sand, pretending none of the evil is happening. I hope you can see that’s not true. I am NOT pretending evil does not exist in this world. It is because of the evils of this world that I take my job as homemaker so very seriously. It is because of the evils of this world that I want to guard my mind and heart. It is because of the evils of this world that I understand the importance of my home being a haven for my family.
It’s okay to care about the of color the kitchen walls. It’s okay to want to make a tasty dinner. It’s okay to spend time finding the best books for your children. The reason Eliot Ness was out there fighting evil was so that his wife and children, and other women and children, could be safe at home–the home that his wife was turning into a delightful place to be. Why do the police, soldiers, doctors and others do what they do, but so that we can be safe at home? Why do many of our husbands go out to face the world every day, but so that we don’t have to, and so that we can be keepers of our homes, able to raise our children with purpose? They protect those at home. And it is our jobs as wives, mothers, and homemakers to make home what it is. After all, if no one is there caring about anything–from the color of the walls, to the books on the shelves, to what is going to be on the dinner table tonight–then what is there worth coming home to? And if you’re not going to do it, who will? I can’t overemphasis the importance of the job. There is no shame in our trying to create a place that is cozy, welcoming, inspiring, nourishing, attractive, and clean. To our families, and society as a whole, the haven of home is almost everything.
“A housewife’s work . . . is surely in reality the most important work in the world. What do ships, railways, miners, cars, government etc. exist for except that people may be fed, warmed, and safe in their own homes?”-C. S. Lewis
“To be happy at home is the end of all human endeavor.”-Dr. Johnson
Yes, we can get so wrapped up in creating the perfect décor and appearance of beauty that we neglect building inward, true beauty in our lives and the lives of our families. For what is home primarily, but the garden where we grow and nurture the children God has put into our care, with the most important lesson being to know Him. Filling our minds and time with fluff is a problem, too. We need to be on guard on every side. If our present calling is to be wives, mothers, or homemakers, then we should do that job with all of our heart–and that might just involve caring about the color of the kitchen walls.
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You never forget such a dream–a dream where Jesus lifts you, puts you in His pocket. So warm. Safe. Loved. Light shining through white softness, close there to His heart. It was that dream that I thought of over the weekend, when after one adoption delay and hurdle after another, our entire dossier went missing in the mail. Though in my grief I had been tempted to run, instead, my fingers clenched to the clean, white softness of His robe. I let my tears fall and soak up there, knowing He would count every one. And there at His feet I lay, knowing there was nowhere else to go—nowhere else I would want to go—determined to stay there, until I got some answer.
And I have to tell you, that no matter what is happening in your life, there is no better place to be. What sweet sorrow, feeling our hurt, our confusion, the longing of our bones . . . Yet knowing He knows it all, and sympathizes with us in our weakness, and that even though we cannot see it, He is working it all for our good. Even if the end result is the opposite of what we have prayed for, it is for His glory and for our eternal good.
Imperfectly, I wrestled, pleaded, waited . . . Thursday, Friday, Saturday, Sunday, Monday . . . I had waited over forty years for a baby daughter. What was another few months to make up the paperwork we had lost? To me, it felt like a very lot. I couldn’t bear to look at the children’s photos. and though the temptation had been to let my heart grow cold toward Him–when all my prayers for speed, and blessing, and favor seemed for naught–I determined to press in, press closer, wait there.
but we haveone who was temptedinevery waythatwe are,
yet was withoutsin.
Let us then approach the throne of grace with confidence,
so that we may receive mercy and find grace
to help us in our time of need.”
~Hebrews 4:14-16 BSB
Things were sent to me to help me. A book—The Practice of the Presence of God, by Brother Lawrence. I listened to it all. A hymn—”I’d rather have Jesus.” I listened to that, too. I listened, and I re-listened, and I sang aloud. And I felt then, His nearness. His love. The awesomeness of His power. The closeness of eternity.
And Monday came, and I went about the busyness of my day, carrying on with organizing our home in preparation for the children’s arrival. Homeschooling my boys, believing there would yet be an adoption to carry us overseas during the coming school year. In the afternoon, I went to the grocery store for a few items for dinner. Sitting there in the steaming heat of my car, I checked my phone and found an email from the agency—the dossier had been located!
I tried to comprehend how. The Post Office claimed the dossier had been left outside the agency, which is situated in an inner-city area, the previous Wednesday. The agency had searched for, and been unable to find it. Five days had passed. Suddenly, the dossier was discovered outside, right where the post office said it should be. A miracle.
I sat in my car and cried, tears pouring down—this time because that which was lost had been found. And because God had shown His goodness and His mercy and His power.
And so now our adoption is up and running again—we might even get to see the kids this autumn! But I can tell you, with all honesty, that I am glad those papers went missing. I am glad for the pain I was allowed to feel. Without that despair, I would not have turned so desperately, so passionately to my Creator. I would not have experience the sweetness of being so wholly in His presence, or resting there at His feet. I pray I may always feel as close to Him as I do today. That I may always trust Him, even when things aren’t going my way. Because He is trustworthy. He is gracious. He is good. He is wise. He is love. And why, oh, why, would I run away from that?
“The difficulties of life do not have to be unbearable.
It is the way we look at them – through faith or unbelief – that makes them seem so. We must be convinced that our Father is full of love for us and that He only permits trials to come our way for our own good.
Let us occupy ourselves entirely in knowing God. The more we know Him, the more we will desire to know Him. As love increases with knowledge, the more we know God, the more we will truly love Him. We will learn to love Him equally
Yet he did not waver through disbelief in the promise of God, but was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God. ~Romans 4:20 BSB
Over forty years I have waited. And maybe it’s not as many years as ninety-year-old Sarai waited for her child, but some days it feels as long, and still I wait. On my knees I have pleaded, wept, and wrestled with God over his decision not to give me a baby daughter. After four difficult deliveries with my wonderful sons, we decided to adopt—a baby girl as young as possible! I was in disbelief, and so excited. But something nagged at my soul, and though I knew what a dream I was giving up, we decided instead to add to our family a teenage daughter who was in danger of aging out. We felt called, we obeyed, yet her brokenness brought brokenness to us all, and for years it was a struggle.
When I felt at last a healing in my heart, and when the memory of the labor pains I’d endured had become fuzzy in my mind, I thought perhaps God might yet bless us with a child, naturally. But after years of stress and not understanding what my body had been shouting at me, I needed physical healing, too. And so there were years of going to extreme lengths to bring down the inflammation and grow strong. So many doctors. So many needles. So many pills. So much changing of the way I did life. Still, month after month, no baby came. And slowly, slowly, I thought of adoption again. Because God still called to me, and I did not yet feel done being a mama to wee ones–and had not stopped yearning for that baby daughter. Two children, I felt in my heart this time, if God wanted it so. But on a list I saw three siblings, with the youngest but 6 months old (a rarity in international adoption). John felt the same about them, and once more we started on the long journey of paperwork required for such a thing. Again, I was so excited, so in disbelief that these children might be mine! Those little faces! I poured over them 1,000 times a day.
And it seems from the beginning that nothing has gone right. Unexplained delays from our agency. Online scammers that took our money and our time as we tried to collect different documents. And then, then—right when our dossier was across the world, ready to be submitted to the foreign government at last—we discovered our agency lost accreditation. This meant finding a new agency and beginning much of the process again. We wrestled with our agency for the return of our dossier, and once it had been flown back across the ocean and returned to us at last, I was able to mail it to our new agency . . . only for it to be lost this past week in the mail. Fifty-two dollars I paid to have it guaranteed overnight, and the Post Office said it was delivered, left outside, yet the agency searched and searched, and it was no where to be found.
I cried. I felt numb. And if I’m honest, I wanted to numb myself to God, as well. Cross my arms, and avert my gaze, and keep silent in my prayers. After all, a year of calling out to Him day after day for speed, and favor, and blessing on our adoption hadn’t done much good. Wasn’t He best kept far away? Far away, like David kept the Ark of the Covenant away. He hadn’t been best pleased with the way God handled Uzzah after he’d reached out to stop the Ark from falling. And I wasn’t best pleased with the way God was handling our adoption. But I saw, and was reminded what happened after that–the homes where David sent the Ark became richly blessed (2 Samuel 6:1-12). Those homes that held the symbol of God’s holy presence. David finally realized that even when we don’t understand what God is doing, even when we hurt, even when it seems He’s made a mistake, even when we’re angry at Him, closeness to God is always best. In his presence, is where we will always be most blessed.
I remembered, too, Sarai, who’s name became Sarah as representative of God’s covenant, and her place as the mother of nations. God had made Abraham a promise—his children would outnumber the stars! And Sarai had laughed, had doubted. Even then, God held to His promise and gave a son. “Against all hope, Abraham in hope believed . . . and was strengthened in his faith and gave glory to God” (Romans 4:18, 20). God has not promised me another child. I don’t know His plans for the next year of my life. But I do know He has promised to never leave me (Hebrews13:5). The Amplified Bible puts it,
“I will never [under any circumstances] desert you [nor give you up nor leave you without support, nor will I in any degree leave you helpless], nor will I forsake or let you down or relax My hold on you [assuredly not]!
I can’t tell you how it has hurt to watch those babies grow a year older, so far from the circle of my arms. Still, like Abraham, I hope against all hope. But no matter the end result, I am choosing to stay right here in the circle of my Father’s arms, knowing He will see me through, knowing there is no better place to be.
Avonlea xo
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