Excuse me if I become unclear while typing this.  I have a lot of questions bouncing around in my head right now, and they all seem to be wound loosely together – which is just making everything more tangled.

Parenting is such a curious topic for me.  How we view our children comes out in what we expect from them, how we educate them, and how we treat them.  The typical Christian parent wants to raise their children to be Christian adults, that’s not the question.  The question is, what are we actually raising our children as right now?

Are we raising them as Christians?  To be Christians? To hopefully someday be Christians?
Is our child’s Christianity an assumption, an expectation, or just a hope?

Are we raising our children as if Christianity is an option, just praying they’ll stay on the right side of the fence?

After an eye opening conversation with some good friends of our ours a few weeks ago I really got to thinking.  How are my husband and I raising our children here in this house?

The answer was easy after a little thought.  We’re raising our children as though Christian is who they are.  Not what they will be, or what we hope they will be.

I’ve never even thought of saying, “Mommy and Daddy are Christians and someday you will be too!” 
What we might say would sound more like, “Yes, we’re a Christian family.  And that means we….”

But this new line of thinking has brought to the forefront the question of Baptism.

What is Baptism?  Why Baptise?  When to Baptise?

When God came to Abraham he told him to not only circumcise himself, but all boys 8 days or older, and everybody in his household.  It was a covenant between God and His people. Genesis 17:10-14

Unless the 8 day old babies in Abraham’s house were much further advanced than our 8 days old babies are now, which is a ridiculous thought, this meant that babies, through no choice of their own, were to be circumcised in this bloody ritual as a sign of membership in the covenant community.

Now that Baptism is the sign of membership in the covenant community (also a bloody ritual of sorts, I might add), I’m curious to what changed the ‘when’ of it all.

And if we’re raising our children as today Christians, as though they have been elected already, not maybe-someday Christians, as though they might someday be elected, how does that fit in with our current credo-baptism practices?

And if I’m wrong does that mean a person isn’t elected until they choose to be elected?  And if that’s case, how can they really be elected?  Isn’t the idea of choosing to be elected a contradiction?

Sometimes somebody says something to you.  It could be just a couple of sentences, but it totally changes the way you’ve been thinking. 
This whole Baptism thing has created new questions for me, but has actually cleared up a number of other questions I’ve had about election and God’s sovereignty.

It’s given me something new to ponder.  And that’s always good.

After some praise from her aunt, my daughter recently described herself as “just a normal 15 year old kid who likes to help out”.
And I was reminded that she’s not just a kid.  She’s a young adult. And people are surprised to see her kind of grown-up behavior in a 15 year old – male or female.

Some things, ideas, are occurring to me lately.

When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways.  1 Corinthians 13:11

A couple of years ago we started treating Kait more and more like an adult.  I’m not sure what prompted us to do this, a leading from The Spirit or something.  Over time we gave her more adult-like responsibility, started expecting more adult-like actions, and gave her more adult-like privileges.  At 13 she was no longer a child.  And though silliness and childlike antics are a fun part of our family, it was time for her to pack up any childish ways and toss ‘em.

It’s becoming quite clear to me that this is what is wrong with the majority of our youth these days.  They hit a certain age, have all the physical and mental abilities of an adult, but none of the responsibility or expectations.  They are no longer a child, but not yet an adult.  They are just there. 

Think about this.
In the typical public high school you can’t use the restroom without permission from a teacher, and sometimes an explanation of what you might need to do in there.  Oh, and a pass so everybody in the hall knows you’re allowed to go potty by yourself.
These kids are old enough to be an adult, and we often rant and rave because they continue to act so childish; but if they dare expect to be treated with the dignity of an adult they’re likely to be faced with some form of punishment.  In public schools that means detention, suspension, or in severe cases, expulsion.

A male of 17 should not only be expected to act like a man, he should also be given appropriate manly privileges.  Like getting up to go to the restroom without begging permission. 

I understand why changes like this could be difficult to implement in the public school system.  It’s just not gonna happen.  So, the system will continue to work to produce perpetual children; whiny, needy grown girls with no sense of true womanhood, who go through relationship after relationship after relationship in search of something they’ll never find in a grown boy; and lazy, dependant, demanding grown boys who expect nothing of themselves, have a warped view of pride and manhood, and desire no responsibility at all.

Even the most attentive parents have trouble combating these things in the few hours a day they have with their public schooled kids.

But we’re not completely without help.  There are other options, though they aren’t always the easiest choices.  But the narrow gate, the one that leads to life, isn’t supposed to be easy.

Enter by the narrow gate.  For the gate is wide and the way is easy that leads to destruction, and those who enter by it are many. For the gate is narrow and the way is hard that leads to life, and those who find it are few.  Matthew 7:13-14

Whatever it is that you chose, remember this.
There is no middle child-age where our kids quite growing and learning.  What is it you want your children being taught?

A quote from a gal named Cindy who I don’t have a link for.  I found it on an old post of Amy’s and just had to pass it along.

Say that you rail and your rail with your children about all kinds of things: drugs and rock music and Christian music and weak Christianity and sugar and white bread and recycling and ‘those’ people and bad literature and mud on their boots and dirty houses and vaccinations and feeding babies and chocolate and vitamins and natural childbirth, how will your children know which of these things is really important? Maybe one day they find out that some Christians eat sugar and they are nice lovely people who truly love the Lord but from hearing you day in and day out he thought that anyone who ate sugar had a free ticket to hell. Now every single thing you have tried to teach your child ever has been undermined by your passionate intensity.

Written so well, Cindy. Gives me something to think about.

I’m not gone.  Everything is okay.  I just haven’t felt like being on the computer much lately so I’ve stayed off.

I’m still doing my push ups, and that’s going well.  I pulled a stomach muscle some how, which have made my push ups a little more agonizing, but my arms aren’t hurting anymore, so that’s good.

Ryan should wing in the middle of July.  Then we’ll be transferred shortly after.  So, we’re down to about 6 or 7 more weeks here. 

Very sad.

Sam turned 3.  Matthew turned 7.  I know I should write up their birthday posts but I just don’t want to be on the computer right now.  It’s warm outside.  I mowed the lawn the other day.  It was nice.  It started up really easily.  The pull cord pulled like butter.  Thanks push ups!

I don’t like it when a bunch of teenagers get together without direct adult supervision.  I’ll be writing more on that one later.

Nothing much else to tell.  I have some posts rolling around in my head. Nothing funny or witty.  Just things I’ve been thinking about.

I’ll be back.

This post is not about my own personal dislike of Facebook.  It is about how spineless we have become – a slave to our own selfish whims.

There is an unethical security issue at Facebook right now.  Not only that, but Facebook has heard the protests and continues to ignore the issue.  From what I have read this security thing is downright illegal.

There have been numerous Facebook users who are fussing about this.  They are threatening the Facebook powers that be that if they don’t fix the problem they’ll…

Start a Facebook protest group.

On Facebook.

Which is what they have done. 

If we were to protest Walmart for selling personal information about it’s customers, would we actually go into Walmart, purchase something, then hand the cashier our grievances along with a crisp $50 bill?

Of course not.  That’s what we call stupid.

But Facebook users, the protesters anyway, are doing just that.  They aren’t only keeping their Facebook profiles, but they are using Facebook to protest Facebook.

Weird.

Really.  Are they thinking this is actually going to solve the problem? 

Meanwhile, Facebook powers are getting fat on the money rolling in from ads, promotional items, your personal information that you think you’ve made private(yep!), and Grande White Chocolate Mochas, all from a cushy leather couch at Starbucks.

Doesn’t that make you angry enough to just throw a sheep at somebody?

Short boy hair, dual diamond studded earrings, sloppy t-shirt, baggy jeans,very loosely tied bulky white tennis shoes.

I sat waiting for Kait and Matthew to finish up their appointments at the orthodontist.  The preteen kid was there with his or her mom.  I wondered for a moment, then promptly turned my attention to my 1 year old, who was trying to crawl under my chair.  Later I heard the child I described above referred to as “he”.

Then another boy arrived with a bunch of colorful bracelets on his wrists.
And then another boy with perfectly manicured longer hair with a ‘too cool’ look that said, “I’m the most popular cheerleader on the squad”.

And I wonder.

I wonder if anybody has told them they appear quite feminine. Or would they even care.

I wonder how their fathers are okay with these tendencies towards being like the opposite gender.  Or do they even have a dad?

I wonder why boys no longer desire to be men.

I wonder why women are more and more attracted to feminized males.

I wonder why, in a nation where nature is more and more idolized as a god, we are stretching further and further away from our own natural forms and roles.

I watch my 6 boys in their natural state.  They aren’t brushing each other’s hair.  They’re battling with sticks.  They aren’t doing cartwheels.  They’re wrestling in the yard.  They aren’t skipping in the driveway.  They’re getting scratched and bruised in a game of war. 

They show me their battle wounds with pride and I cringe.

And they’re more than okay with freaking me out. 

I didn’t teach this to them. I’m not sure I could have if I wanted to. It is a boy’s natural tendency to act like a boy.   To dominate, to conquer, to brave, to lead.

A boy wearing girl jeans, eye liner, and perfectly styled hair – it looks askew. Like a picture warped by water.  You can still see what it is, but it just doesn’t look right anymore.

It’s just not natural.  So, where are these boys getting this from?

And it makes me wonder.

You know how that one blog has been making you really mad lately?  But you just can’t stay away?  So you read the latest post and feel yourself start to fume?  And you know you should close the page and not bother with that author’s posts anymore?  But you not only re-read the post, you also dive into the comments?

It’s the stupidest cycle of stupidity ever. 

I’m happy to have learned a long time ago to not leave comments on posts that irritate me.  However, I’m not so happy that I haven’t learned yet not to even bother with reading the stuff on those blogs to begin with.

What a complete waste of my time.  There are so many other worth while things for me to be irritated with.  Like the laundry room.

Yeah.  I got the bathrooms done today.  2 grocery bags full of trash, and a big pile of stuff to top off the garage sale box.  Tomorrow is the laundry room.

I can’t bare to think about it right now.  If I close my eyes real tight maybe it will just go away.

Read the Bible to your typical church congregation and it’s likely to be unacceptable to at least some, if not most of the listeners.  
The hard truth is that the Word shreds at us like a cheese grater and many people don’t want to handle that kind of hard truth.  Or maybe the Word isn’t written like a Grisham or romance novel and people are just too bored with it to continue in those mind numbing, dead services where scripture is the primary order of the day.

Either way, God’s word is no longer being tolerated in many Christian circles.  Seeker friendly churches are severely limiting the number of scripture passages quoted, even going so far as to put The Book away entirely in order to preach a more acceptable message, something easier for the sensitive Sunday Christian types to swallow.

Something Biblical enough to pass as Christian, but not Gospel enough to cause church goers any discomfort.  Gotta keep the masses happy, you know.

I can’t pretend to know God.  But I just get this feeling that He wouldn’t be okay with that. 

I just don’t understand why other people can’t see this.  Sacrificing the Word in order to keep church goers appeased…

I’d say that’s a very dangerous game to play.

I’ve been toying with this idea lately.  This idea that I should stop writing for my readers.  I think I wanna be more real.

Sometimes I want to write something here on my blog.  So, I do.  But I never publish it.

Because I think my readers will think I’m weird. 
Or will be appalled when I write ’crap’ (literally).  Crap.  Just like that. 
Or friends and family will be worried about me cause I just know they’ll take that post wrong. 
Or that if I’m honest people will think I’m completely insane.

You know, whatever.

My husband often announces “That’s a blog post for ya.” 
I often reply, “I’d never…”
But he’s taken lately to reminding me that this is my blog.  If I want to write about how I found a 4 month old dirty cloth diaper wadded up behind the changing table I should be able to do so without worrying what other people think. (yeah, it happened)

If I want to really keep it real I’ve got to stop being concerned that writing about my life style is going to offend yours.

And If I want to write only in the third person, in all caps, and call myself Delilah, I should be able to.  It’s my blog.

My journal.

Mine.

DELILAH SAYS, “PEACE OUT”.

[too weird?]

I spoke to a lady not long ago who was extremely judgemental of not just my family, but a number of families I know to be exceptional, upstanding people.  I felt my claws begin to come out, but quickly reigned them in.  It took a lot of self  God control.  I won’t go into the details of the conversation, but I will say that it sure did remind me of the harshness of the judgemental woman. A woman I used to be. A woman who I still wrestle with on occasion. With God’s help, I’m winning more and more.

My family has chosen to live our life a certain way.  We homeschool, take issue with birth control (I’d think that would be obvious), have a fundamental biblical view of the family, free range our kids (to an extent), eat white sugar and an occasional hot dog, don’t vaccinate, and clip coupons.

For years I believed that my way was the only correct way.  And while it might be the correct way for my family, I’ve come to learn that the harsh judgementalism (is that a word?) I have felt towards others during those “years of me” was not born of wanting better for them. It was me wanting to feel like I was better than them - an ego building exercise of sorts.

Eww. Doesn’t that drip of ugliness. 

I’d tell you about the moment my eyes were opened to that ugliness…
Yeah. I’m not going to.  You’ll just have to trust me that it was really. uncomfortable.

So, yeah, some people homeschool.  Some people don’t watch TV.  Some people don’t breastfeed their babies.  Some people don’t like olives.

So
what

We can do things differently and still be sisters in Christ.

Just so long as we agree that my way is better.
[just kidding]