Grateful for the new babies in my life...

I run to the daycare center to frolic with cherubs daily. And I remember that there was a time when I wondered what was the purpose of this life. Many, warranted and unwarranted beatings can wear upon a soul. As the bible says it discourages the child. Great Expectations movie had that plate in the corner that caught my eye that there are angels who lurk on the side of the room when a whomping is underway. I found a frame with that theme to remind me that there is a day after the whompings. I put Addie-Grace to remind me that that face was with me 50 years ago in my joys and griefs and now she gets to enjoy the beauty that got me through my roughest and happiest days. Same for Charlotte and the other nieces and nephews, but Addie is the representative of them and the future grands, Lord willing.

At Tennis camp, as a child, I said I cannot do it- Serving into the sun is impossible!

I was so frustrated and Brother was so patient with me. He came from his usual "perch", (Running drills and such)and came to my side of the net to instruct me and give a personal demonstration of how to serve at 1 o'clock. I was shivering at such personal attention to me in my frustration. Brother was usually untouched by the "feelings of our feminine frustrations". He actually came to the service line and showed me how to do it. I will make him proud, I determined, because of this personal care that he showed to me. This morning I remember how many aces I hit because of the care of this man who showed me the correct toss. I am spastic throwing, as a rule. The toss was the worst part of my game. When the sun was at twelve oclock, I would just want to quit the game rather than try to serve on the sunglared side of the court. "Brother" made this, no longer a frustration. The sun is at twelve oclock serve at 1 oclock- he meant toss the ball a little lower than the sunglare and hit the sun, or perceive that you are hitting the sun. Blinding, at first, it is a lesson in dealing with perceived obstacles. I remember this, because I have children reared in the full sunglare of the presence of God in the home and this can be just as frustrating as serving on the sunny side of the court. Their father is such a wholesome individual and they are always judging this side and that side. I cannot get them to think outside of themselves. I take the ball from "Brother" I serve at 1 oclock and sometimes this gets their attention that they cannot be the end all and be all of the matter. Only God is God. Look at it from someone else's perspective is the lesson. For me it is try to climb over the obstacles and try to serve into the sun, as frustrating as this may be.

I Love being 50

If I have the memory to recall, it seems that 50 is about the replays of the point. It is as though the great umpire calls a let and in your mind the points get replayed, only this time you have only your mind to play it. I would have run to the net and I would have hit a super topspin cross-court backhand, instead of that stupid drop shot. I see myself, as clear as day running to the net and being able to get under that ball and executing the shot perfectly. Then, I wake up. It is an argument and a 20 something year old has just hit me a dropshot that only a cross court backhand would be appropriate. I wouldn't hit her in the teeth. Insolence? No, just the age. You were that age before. What did Ruth say? "Youth is waisted on the young!" Are we in a match? Is the ball in play? Is there a match to win? Are we on holiday? Anyway, my bones hurt, as though I had a drill of lob backhands and loads and loads of overhands that I had hit, but I didn't. Just the pain in the neck from the children that God has blessed me with. I love that they bring me to the net. It delights my soul to put the ball away and not to knock the living daylights out of them. Some points they may win, but tennis {bless that game}gives me a certain perspective about the ball in play, with them. I tell them, You do not want to be on the other side of the net from me. You don't want me to put the ball away on you. That is surely what I always taught them when I took them out on the court. There is nothing more delicious to a tennis player, than a well placed lob to put away. It is instinct. I wanted them to see the natural way that I will put it away. You are my child and if you don't duck you could lose something. I want you to see that part of me. Don't give me that lob. I will put it away. They seemed to understand. Yet, and still they come home late and give me some stupid discussion about this and that. Elyse knows to duck. She sticks her head in the sand while the discussion takes place and Emily, {bless her heart} continues the rally without her partner. She hit a lob to mommy and she will get her head handed to her, if she doesn't duck. Yep. Well, thank goodness I was nearly asleep. My bones feel the pain of the match, this morning and there was no real match, just my imagination of points that I would have played. Grandpa's blessed "Hustle" yelling in my ear. Get to the ball, Jayne. There he is, in the building above me, yelling "Hustle!" Will I?

...Miles to go before I sleep.

Now, At 50, I labor to learn to...

Confess and forsake my sins.

Young people think that their elders have given off learning. I used to wish to be 50 years old and only teach and not learn. I find that I am learning more everyday. I am seeing more of myself and others and God that teach me. Young people are eager to direct the paths of their elders. They say, if you had only known about the green economy and the health initiatives that we have discovered you would not have gotten us in the mess that we are in. Perhaps, we elders say. The lessons of the years past is that covering our sins can only exacerbate the problem. When people were distant from their foibles and the seas could cover a boatload of sunken souls and no one would confess for fear, we were in sin and we didn't even uncover our shame. God knows that confession and forsaking the sin is always in order. We cannot build buildings big enough to house the blankets we try to cover them over with. Psalm 51 is the aid to the public soul and the private.
Lord, when we had covered our sins our bones grew broken and groaned. Take not Thy Holy Spirit from us. You said that if Your people would humble themselves...and pray...and turn from their wicked ways, You would heal our land. We need Your healing in our souls and in our government and certainly in our insurances. We would give You the secrets of our souls and ask for wisdom and righteousness to be learned of our younguns so that they can inherit a blessing out of decay.

Parenting, the toss! again!

The wind was contrary, as I practiced my serve this morning. My twist was, at least 2-3 inches out, on account of the wind. I was working on the calculations and the precise combination to get it in and I was thinking how much my children are just like that tennis ball. The winds are always contrary and the spins are missing the line on every point, more often than not. They have their own specific spin. I know that I didn't put the spin on them. God, or their father did that. I just have to adjust and move the ball in the direction of the court. My contribution seems to be the contact and the direction to the children. Volleys, serves, occasionally, one of them comes along that is a floater and you get to hit it right to get a winner. Most of the time they are just ralleys. The fun is in the interaction and how many times you get to hit them over the net. When they change courts and you are no longer in their sphere of influence, though you may love them. The match is over. It may be a short match or a long match. You have just a few minutes on earth to make an influence on them.
Sometimes the lighter you hit them the more they float, as I have seen in my inlaws case. The eldest child they always seem to hit so hard they pop the ball into smitherenes. If I could do it again. I would treat the eldest like the youngest and the youngest like the eldest. No attention is better than too much.

...lest they become discouraged

I believe a daughter's place is doting on her Daddy!

You only have one daddy!
You girls are blessed with a merciful and kind daddy. Please don't miss this time, when God hasn't snatched you away to another man, to be kind to your daddy. The gleam in my fathers eyes when he opened a card that had a dollar in it, was priceless. He could put on that glance in a moment. It was addictive to hear him say, this is a good cup of coffee, or this is a great meal. "Indian burns!" was my absolute favorite. You are learning skills of love that are best groomed, nowhere else. Natural affections of real tolerance, overlooking faults and love are brewed in the kettle of the family. Learning to make his favorite, biscuits and grits or mac and cheese, is real love. Don't miss this.

He shall lead His flock like...

A Shepherd?
That is the question. How are you leading me, Lord, in this dark veil of tears? So many times, in these sadnesses, I have collapsed and fallen on the ground and hid my eyes. I know, only, that He has had to carry me most of the way from that point on. He sent Evvy to show me how I am. Evvy had a blackboard fall on her leg when she was 18 months old and she didn't walk for a month or so. The doctor said nothing is broken, she is just afraid. I do that, with God.
I can't walk, Lord. I will fall again. I am fallen. I am blind. I say. He takes my hands from my eyes and lifts me from my pallet and shows me how to walk. I am grateful for His mercies.
Bearing one another's burdens means that we love one another through these dark times of incapability. Carrying the paralytic ones to Jesus, in prayer and in our love. I need love, Lord. You are love. I need strength, Lord, You are strong. God has given family and church and community and learning to enjoy Him in and with these good gifts in purity, is the goal. When I sin, I have an advocate with the Father. I don't expect my brethren to be the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit, but tools in His hands to give me the grace to be able to stand against the evil day. Having done all, to stand. Having embraced all of the good gifts that God has given richly to enjoy, I stand in obedience to Him and in repentance for my sins. Help me, Lord. Thank you for my brothers and sisters in Christ The richest gift of all, on earth.

I'll not go into the promises I made to God, if He would let me keep my baby.

I stand ever in gratitude for every one of those 21 days of blessed remembrance which are etched indelibly on my mind, through grief. They hurt worse than tongue can say. I am often angry, but also grateful, if someone can understand that. God has let me grieve and talk lucidly to Him in my grief. He is the only one who can understand the pain that the memory brings and the pain that the heart and mind try to reach for in comfort for the loss. There is a comfort that comes, from His mighty hand and the going through the grief process is the only way to enter into that comforting relationship with God. I didn't know that then. God and the precious sense of His love in the beauty and loving hugs of family and friends are sometimes the only comfort the soul can find. There is no stable ground inside of your soul. Everything seems to be shaken, only God's comfort is constant. The hymnwriter said, when all around my soul gives way. That is what he was talking about. I would wish that no one would feel all around their soul give way. Mind and heart and flesh to fail, but if they do, God is still constant. Where shall I go from your spirit? said the Psalmist. There is nowhere on this earth that is truly God forsaken, only hell is God forsaken. When mind and heart are lost, even in distress and pain there is still the light of the sun and the colors of the rainbow that are constant, even if you cannot see them for the craze. God is everywhere.

I had a supernatural energy, with that news.

I was in the best shape of my life. 28 years old and had everything that I ever wanted. A wonderful happy christian family. A husband, who loved Jesus, a daughter, who reminded me of myself and now, a son. We were determined to run, with energy to please God on every point. We read through the scriptures as a family. We put away the tv. We did whatever we felt would draw us closer to this God who had given us all that we ever, ever wanted.
Job and struggles with the job were a constant. But they seemed nothing, with the beauty of this family that we had asked God for.

We had natural childbirth, with Baby Ben.

We had the baby at the "Childbirth Center". One healthy natural birth down, there was little to worry about, except that I was 2 weeks late.
I remember that the pain was so much that only a shower could help it. I was in the shower at the center and trying to do my breathing exercises. Ben said do you need me, to help. I said I am in a contraction, don't talk. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I said how did you reach that far over the shower door to touch my shoulder. He said I can't reach over the shower door. I said you didn't touch my shoulder, who did then?
When we found out in a few minutes that it was a boy, it was the most precious gift there had ever been. A boy. I was first again. "Jack" had the first grandchild, but I had the first grandson. Wow, like Christmas. I was pleased as punch and he was beautiful, too. Even the umbilical cord was white as snow, I remember. I said I didn't know the cord could be light or dark. The midwife said it is the color of the skin of the baby. I was in awe of this. I had my wits about me somewhat, because it wasn't my first birth, I could look around at stuff and note the differences. This would never happen again and I would never have my wits about me at birth again. I didn't know that.

21 Days etched in my permanent memory!

I can remember everyday of that poor baby's life. Daily, it seems that my mind will try to retrace the steps and look for how I could have changed the outcome of that circumstance. It is awefully sad to look back so often, but it is impossible to do anything else when you are a mother. I see why God marked history with the griefs of mothers. His heart is clearly with us in these griefs. Can't get away from it.
I can't yet write the daily steps I trod, it breaks me down. I know that God is there with me, even when I am struggling with His providences.
That is all that I can say about that. The Ark came back after Ichabod, but the hearts of those women were the clock for the people of the griefs that they had seen.

What a beautiful time it was, to have an only daughter.

We walked and talked together, just the two of us. We traversed back and forth down the streets of this new city for us both. For her, it was home, all she knew. For me it was a barren distant world, away and apart from my common surroundings. My own, little town was left for, the burbs. Would I survive?
My Elyse and now this little one jumping around inside me would keep me focused. I cast my cares upon God, everyday. Lord, I prayed, make me like the Shunnamite, I meant Shulamite woman, to give to the men of God. I wanted to pray with my heart opened before the Lord. I told you, Lord, I would go anywhere, but these surroundings are entirely too different for me. People are too into themselves and their stuff.
I could get into that too, if that is what Christianity is about. God had called me from nothing and I was trying to figure out what real Christianity was about. Ambition and wanting and other things also. I couldn't get into that. That kind of coveting is not my remaining sin. I started to imbibe some of the covetous mindset. We discussed the possibility of this being our last child. No more. 2 is enough. I said that at one of the family functions and was rebuked sharply. You young people think that you can tell God what to do. I was rebuked and I did see the changes that were happening to us, living in the burbs and worshiping with people who drove nice cars and had big houses. We wanted to serve the Lord.
I said, Lord, if you would give me a son, should I pray like Hannah. You know that I will give him to you? I wouldn't dare even utter such a greedy request. Here I was with everything that I couldn't even imagine to have wanted and asking for more. What a greedy girl. God had delivered me from terror, into a loving and accepting family and I was looking for, a son?
Well, I was late to deliver. Everybody else's son was born or seemed to be born before mine. I went to visit Francine in the hospital and there was the verse outside her door. To everything there is a season. Okay Lord, I will try to be patient. The baby was due in late February, but on March 4, 1989. There he was.
I was laying on the bed and I said, honey, I think you need to take authority over this baby. I think you ought to tell the baby to come out. He cleaned up the house and said, everything is ready now and put his hand on my stomach and said Baby come out! and one hour later I was in labor. I said honey, this is one obedient baby.
He was.

First Game of the second Set

Birth of a son.
A second pregnancy, was a joyful time. In those days we didn't want to know what it was. Sonograms were still somewhat new procedures and you could choose to have one or not. We were naturalists and chose to be surprised. Everybody who was pregnant with me with the first one was with me on the second go round. We were consecutively reading through the scriptures with our one and only child. We were listening to series' everywhere and by everybody on molding the character of the child. No disobediences were tolerated or accepted. Every infraction of the child was met with immediate and severe instruction and challenge to better behavior. Catechism was stressed and practiced answers to the questions were repeated and explained. It was wonderful how many good questions came out of the interaction with a toddler.
I was so lonely in NJ. I felt like a fish out of water. I was so out of my element. I had absolutely none of the homemaking skills of these ladies. I had worked full time until the baby was born and was now a full time at home mom among moms who had majored in Keeping Home at college. The pregnancy was aweful. I was so sick and so sad and so struggling with my sense of inadequacy in everything I was supposed to be doing.

The First Game of Parenting.

Deuce, Advantage Mommy, First game of the first set goes to me. I held serve, as it were. When I look back, I see that I really could have lost it there. My emotions were so on end. Grandma Delaphena looked at both of our babies, Ju and mine. She held Nettie on her lap first and looked at Ju and said, not another. Don't have another child. Oh, no I thought. She took Elyse, they were a week apart. She looked at me and said, you can have as many as you wish. But not another for Julia. She could see the emotional strain that mothering is and giving wise greatgrandmotherly counsel. I should have said Grandma, do you really think so? She said, your husband is one of those helpful men, who is as much a part of the parenting as you. Like Milton, she referred to Uncle. This was a good man to them. I do have an understanding husband. They had seen many men in their 90+ years. I took this to heart, I had the blessing of Grandmother and Great Grandmother, but I was still committed to have only 2 children. Money was a very large part of my thinking. I really was just about one inch away from a post partum break,from the first(maybe everybody is), but there was nobody to tell. Hindsight is, as it were 20/20. There was nobody to scream to about the fear and the pain and the emotional upheaval. Just pray and "God will keep him in perfect peace..." People quote scriptures to women and men on the brink of emotional disaster. Be warmed and filled.
Is that what I needed? Instructions and blessing from the elder generation? Scriptures quoted over my head like incantations to keep the "devil" away. Mom! You will be alright, I made it, you will too. Everything was intense in the emotions. If you say that you are struggling, you are not trusting God. If you tell people that you need help they quote scripture at you. Who is there to bear the burdens. Truly, No one ever cared for me like Jesus. I had felt a bear like angry passion well up in myself when others touched my child. I was never the youngest child and had to let others hold my baby. I don't know these people and I don't agree with their child rearing. I wanted to get out! God, you have to help me deal with these people. God you have to help me deal with my heart of anger and jealousy. My husband is brother to all of these people and I have to share him with them. My baby is the niece of all of these people and I have to share her with them. I am angry and I don't know what to do about this. I consider it a win of the game because I didn't hit anybody. I didn't cuss out anybody or bless out anybody as Christians say. I had been taught to respect my elders and all of these people were my elders. What is my responsibility to them, Lord. I wanted to be with my family, but the responsibility of church and family stole me away from the people who meant the most to me. If I tell them how I feel, I would be renouncing my faith, it felt like. If I share my burdens with church people, I would be bad mouthing my inlaws. They weren't doing anything bad, just different. Between a rock and a hard place and there would be many more games that I wouldn't win, but the first game of the first set. I won. I kept my sanity, as it were. Always feeling on the brink, but never really able to tell anybody but Ben and God. Prayer and reading guided me into intense communion with my Lord, out of necessity. There is nobody else who cares for me like that. I still need instruction and the bearing of burdens, but God has a way of showering His care and lovingkindness and tender mercies inspite of my emotional upheaval. These are the struggles that makes a man of God learn the art and the gift of counsel. Constantly dealing with an on the brink wife and not giving up.
I wish that I could say that there was "Peace perfect peace, in this dark world of sin" I know the Blood of Jesus whispers peace within. I had emotional struggles so the diagnoses would be, that I must not be keeping my mind stayed upon Him. What else can a person do to keep your mind upon Jesus and find peace?

To the Caucasoid Mountains!

I have a bad habit of traveling to the ends of the earth in my mind when we have other responsibilities. There are so many allusions to the intentions of God in the names of the places that are in the Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. It looks as though God brews His intentions in good literature. How much we miss when we are afraid to carry our Bibles with us into the mines of good literature for fear.

Confessions of a MOMMABOSSY!^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^Thoughts on the development of Femininity in our family, eg. Tom Brown's School Days movie!

For the Love of femininity.

Ms. Brown you have a lovely daughter.

Tom Arnold’s wife is the feminine ideal from bygone days. The symbol must be studied and devoured and spit out in contemporary garb. Not stupid! Trusting. What God does to build up a man that is cared fo and relied upon. He directs. The devil sends all of his ammunition against him. Here is a man of principles. He also takes the time to teach others to do this also.
He doesn’t need a devouring contentious wife. “Nyaaaa, I need, I want, gimme, gimme.” He needs support. Do you take this man? Do you support his principles? She said I do as clearly as the first day they were wed. Do you, Jayne take Ben to be thy lawful wedded wife?
If I disagree with a particular issue on the table; it is not my part to discuss it in front of Mr. Brown, so to speak. (from the movie) It is my part to be supportive and comforting in distresses and do my correcting where others cannot catch my sicknesses. God holds the heart of the king. Do I still believe that? I do. Do I still believe that God holds our hearts and can convince my leaders of right? I do.
God has a schematic that He is creating. God has a plan and a blueprint, so to speak that He has coordinated and designed. I am not the designer, just a spectator. If God allows me to be the wife of Obed Edom and Tom Arnold and serve God in the humble prayers and study, I will be most grateful. I must, add to my faith the process of faithfulness and mercy. Those are character traits much dimmed in my judgmental attitude. God has an illustrious balance and the qualities of mercy and faithfulness are feminine though not exclusively. Family does much to breed the human quality of loyalty, if there are loving attitudes and sometimes, even if not. God is faithful and masculine but in the family, Judgment belongs to the husband and mercy usually belongs to the wife. It was beautifully danced out in fictional array in that movie Tom Brown. Just one glimpse of the merciful picture of the spouse of the headmaster and that could comfort the deepest blows of body and soul.
The body can be trained to write in perfect penmanship when the heart is broken in a million pieces but the soul cannot be trained to hang on. It is the beauty of the comfort of women, exemplified toward Jesus before the crucifixion and other places where the comfort of women has brought someone from the edge of disaster.
I know that it can push someone over the edge also. I must try to add much more mercy for the heavy handedness that I often have a crushing influence on my children, may henpeck my sons.









Now look at the love picture in Sweethearts, with Jeanette MacDonald and Nelson Eddy and that is the part we play in front of the angels. They have no part in that kind of love!

Deuce, first game of the first set. The First Thanksgiving.

My first baby happened to be one of those adorable holiday babies. November 9th was just enough time for her to be ready for her first showing at holiday time. Dresses were donned, mother was ready. Where do we go? Living in NY, it had never been a problem to visit both families for the holidays. First we go to the Walkers for the food spread and then to my family to shake off the excess pounds:). That used to be as easy as pie. 1+2=3 and it shouldn't be any more difficult to carry 3 across the city, from stem to stern than it was to carry 2. She is little and she is a "good" baby. How hard could it be?
Ugh! I certainly lost that point. I am not ashamed to say so. Perhaps, I was starting the post-partum, even then, unwittingly. Nobody could have told me not to do it. When I look at the replays in my mind I am screaming, Don't do it! Take a sick day! You are going to lose your mind.
Not only did I lose my mind! I lost my health and ended up with a very severe infection from trying to nurse in unorthodox positions while sitting in Aunt Meg's small bathroom. I had not negotiated the feedings into my thought processes. Of course I am a naturalist and there will be no problem nursing with family. My mom did it all the time and everywhere.
I hadn't remembered that his was a family of mostly men. I felt awkward and sick and the baby cried and cried to nurse, more because she was overwhelmed by all of the new faces.
Where's my baby? Where am I? What are we doing? Why are we here? I felt aweful and we had only been at baby's first Thanksgiving for 10 minutes.
Sharing my baby would be a lifelong journey. I would learn lesson after lesson about God's mercy and grace which was just beginning at that session of spin the mommy. I came out of there busy and Truly Thankful! Sickness does that to people and don't try to take a new mommy's baby out of her hands in the first weeks.

30-40 Sharing the baby?

Hey now? Wait a minute. I am sharing her, but how long? Until she cries to eat or burp or get changed. If the rules are not set down early in the match, you will be the gofer and nothing more. Rules must gently be set in place and love must be the motivation for the care of baby being equal. This should have been instructed in the hospital. We didn't have a hospital birth, so it was my job to teach the swaddling and the burping and such.
I do wish that I had another alternative to nursing. That was out of the question for the stallwart naturalists that we had become. No plastic nipples in my childs mouth, unless absolutely necessary. This was a good thought but, at 30-40 in the first game of the set, I had a severe infection that was paining me and I was crying at every feeding. The doctor said the infection wasn't affecting the milk and wasn't dangerous for the baby. I took 2 tylenol 15 minutes before the feedings and that seemed to do the trick. This is supposed to be my serve. I mustn't lose this game. Hold serve and see what happens? That means, first serves in, maybe an ace. What is next?

30 All! Sharing the baby.

Others said to me, don't let him sing to the baby. She will get his voice. It would be wonderful for me to have my daughter have her father's voice. It is not the most melodic voice, but I have had the privilege of having my father's voice and I wanted my babies to share that with their father also. Well, now 23 years later...most of the children have their father's voice. I sang to them and with them, but the beauty and kinship of the father passing on his voice to the children is awesome to me. They sing like him and the think like him. That is something I do not regret, except at Christmas time when I am trying to get a choir together.

15-30 Sharing the baby!

Right after the birth

This man that you used to love above all is now holding the new baby. There is love for this little stranger that you could never imagine there could be. At least that is how it was for me. Why is he holding my baby? She is his too. Don't be harsh, don't be selfish. Share the baby with him. Share your husband with this little one. I am no longer the center of attention. He is now in love with another woman (a baby, but she does become a woman and you have to share him) and the rest of the world no longer asks how I am. I have become a milking machine and the child and her father are enraptured with eachother. I don't know if I bargained for this much self sacrifice when I signed up for motherhood. She's crying, it is always something I've done. She smiles and it is always something her father did to tickle her. When am I going to make a point. I don't want a service break. Go ahead take her around and sing to her like the proud papa. I will have my day too. Motherhood is a lonely and selfless job and here I am remembering the first game of the first set. 15-30