It’s been a long time since I posted anything on my blog – but let’s not go into the reasons for that. Since hearing Jani Ortlund speak on this topic at New Horizon this summer, I’ve been meaning to blog about it – and here I am at last.

I thought that Jani achieved a good balance between presenting biblical teaching and creating an ambiance which was intimate enough for participants to want to share together their experiences, privileges and challenges of being married to the minister!

She chose three headings on which to hang her talk:

1. Risking your Reputation (Exodus 20:16; Leviticus 19; Colossians 3:9)

Here Jani talked about the use of the tongue – both our own tongues and other people’s tongues.

(a) As far as our own are concerned, we were challenged to guard our tongues and to strive to be truthful all of the time. Truth stabilises relationships but we live in a culture of lies. (James 3:2,8; Psalm 141:3; Proverbs 16:24.)

(b) As for other people’s tongues, what minister’s wife has not borne the brunt of criticism, gossip or lies, either about herself or about her husband? Jani encouraged us, instead of wasting emotional energy on defending ourselves or our husbands, to turn to God. (Proverbs 18:21; 17:9; I Peter 3:9.)

2. Refining your Romance

Here, Jani talked to us about two main areas:

(a) Respect your husband’s work (Ephesians 4:29; 5:33)

In her own inimitable style, Jani encouraged us to affirm and appreciate our husbands, be first in line to encourage them after a sermon and to defend them, figuring out ways to enter their castles when they withdraw.

She warned against giving them advice – they get enough of that already, often unsolicited! – and our advice can often be misinterpreted as criticism. (This led to a discussion on what is a helpful way to offer advice and here Ray, Jani’s husband, helpfully shared an example from their own marriage when he was a young minister, they had young kids at home, and he was also taking classes at seminary – Jani had to gently point out to him that he was in danger of losing his family because they just never saw him – but it was the  gentle, non-intimidating spirit in which she did it which effectively spoke to him).

If we respect our husband’s work, then our children will too – but the opposite is also true. If we moan and complain when he is unavoidably late for dinner, our children will pick that up and come to see the ministry as something negative. Jani talked about using that as an opportunity to pray with her children for their Dad who had been held up due to an urgent hospital visit – and so the children learned to support their Dad and appreciate the ministry.

(b) Teach him how to love you (Proverbs 5:15-19; Song of Solomon 4:9; Malachi 2:13-15)

Jani warned that we need to use words to teach our husbands how to comfort us – if not they will never learn and we will turn to something else and our kids will never see how a man can comfort his wife.

3. Relish your Redemption (Hebrews 6:10; I Corinthians 15:58; Psalm 62:1; Psalm 36:7-9)

My commitment to my marriage means that I’m prepared to be unhappy sometimes – and find my joy in God. When ministry is difficult – as it often is – I must choose to follow Him.

Jani posed the challenging question: ‘What will your husband become because he married you?’

Recommended Reading:

His Loving Law, Our Lasting Legacy: Living the Ten Commandments and Giving Them to Our Children by Jani Ortlund

Faithful Women and Their Extraordinary God by Noel Piper

If you’ve ever asked that question – or one similar – read this article by Elisaeth Eliot, taken from her daily devotionals at Back to the Bible website.

“OK now, which one of you clowns put that bag of M ‘n’ Ms in the grocery cart?” The mother looks harried.

Two boys, maybe five and seven, eye each other and race away toward the gumball machine near the supermarket door. There is an infant strapped to a plastic board on top of the groceries, and a two year old occupying the built-in child seat in the cart. The mother picks up the M ‘n’ M candy bag and starts toward the aisle to return it. The two year old screams and she relents, throws the bag in with the rest of her purchases, patiently waits her turn at the check-out, fishes five ten-dollar bills from her purse, receives her small change, and pushing the cart with the babies in it, herds the two boys through the rain to the station wagon in the parking lot.

I go with her in my mind’s eye. Jump out in the rain. Open the garage door. Drive in. Close door. Babies, boys, bags into the house in how many trips? Phone rings. Answer phone, change baby, wipe muddy tracks from kitchen floor. Feed baby, put groceries away, hide M ‘n’ Ms, start peeling vegetables, take clothes out of dryer, stop fight between two older children, feed two year old, answer phone again, fold clothes, change baby, get boys to:
1) hang up coats,
2) stop teasing two year old,
3) set table.
Light oven, put baby to bed, stop fight, mop up two year old, put chicken in oven, answer phone, put away clothes, finish peeling vegetables, look peaceful and radiant–husband will be home soon.

I see this implacable succession of exigencies in my mind’s eye. They come with being a mother. I also see the dreams she dreams sometimes–write a novel, agents call, reviews come in. TV interviews, autograph parties, promotional traveling, a movie contract–preposterous dreams. Try something a little more realistic. Cool modern office, beautiful clothes, make-up and hairdo that stay done all day. A secretarial job perhaps, nothing spectacular, but it’s work that actually produces something that doesn’t have to be done over at once. It’s work that ends at five o’clock. It means something.

I know how it is. I have a mother. I am a mother. I’ve produced a mother (my daughter, Valerie, has a two year old and expects another child soon). I watched my own mother cope valiantly and efficiently with a brood of six. (“If one child takes all your time,” she used to say, “six can’t take any more.”) We were–we still are–her life. I understand that. Of all the gifts of my life surely those of being somebody’s wife and somebody’s mother are among the greatest.

But I watch my daughter and other mothers of her generation and I see they have some strikes against them that we didn’t have. They have been told insistently and quite persuasively that motherhood is a drag, that tradition is nonsense, that what people have always regarded as “women’s work” is meaningless, that “roles” (a word we never bothered much about until a decade or so ago) are changing, that femininity is a mere matter of social conditioning, that it’s time to innovate. If the first-grade readers show a picture of a woman driving a hook-and-ladder and a man doing a nurse’s job, see what happens to the conditioning. Abolish the stereotypes and we can abolish the myths of masculinity and femininity.

I hear this sort of claptrap, and young mothers often come to me troubled because they can’t answer the arguments logically or theologically. They feel, deep in their bones, that there is something terribly twisted about the whole thing but they can’t put their finger on what it is.

I think I know what it is. Profanity. Not swearing. I’m not talking about breaking the Third Commandment. I’m talking about treating as meaningless that which is freighted with meaning. Treating as common that which is hallowed. Regarding as a mere triviality what is really a divine design. Profanity is failure to see the inner mystery.

When women–sometimes well-meaning, earnest, truth seeking ones say “Get out of the house and do something creative, find something meaningful, something with more direct access to reality,” it is a dead giveaway that they have missed the deepest definition of creation, of meaning, of reality. And when you start seeing the world as opaque, that is, as an end in itself instead of as transparent, when you ignore the Other World where this one ultimately finds its meaning, of course housekeeping (and any other kind of work if you do it long enough) becomes tedious and empty.

But what have buying groceries, changing diapers and peeling vegetables got to do with creativity? Aren’t those the very things that keep us from it? Isn’t it that kind of drudgery that keeps us in bondage? It’s insipid and confining, it’s what one conspicuous feminist called “a life of idiotic ritual, full of forebodings and failure.” To her I would answer ritual, yes. Idiotic, no, not to the Christian–for although we do the same things anybody else does, and we do them over and over in the same way, the ordinary transactions of everyday life are the very means of transfiguration. It is the common stuff of this world which, because of the Word’s having been “made flesh,” is shot through with meaning, with charity, with the glory of God.

But this is what we so easily forget. Men as well as women have listened to those quasi-rational claims, have failed to see the fatal fallacy, and have capitulated. Words like personhood, liberation, fulfillment and equality have had a convincing ring and we have not questioned their popular definitions or turned on them the searchlight of Scripture or even of our common sense. We have meekly agreed that the kitchen sink is an obstacle instead of an altar, and we have obediently carried on our shoulders the chips these reductionists have told us to carry.

This is what I mean by profanity. We have forgotten the mystery, the dimension of glory. It was Mary herself who showed it to us so plainly. By the offering up of her physical body to become the God-bearer, she transfigured for all mothers, for all time, the meaning of motherhood. She cradled, fed and bathed her baby–who was very God of very God–so that when we cradle, feed and bathe ours we may see beyond that simple task to the God who in love and humility “dwelt among us and we beheld his glory.”

Those who focus only on the drabness of the supermarket, or on the onions or the diapers themselves, haven’t an inkling of the mystery that is at stake here, the mystery revealed in the birth of that Baby and consummated on the Cross: my life for yours.

The routines of housework and of mothering may be seen as a kind of death, and it is appropriate that they should be, for they offer the chance, day after day, to lay down one’s life for others. Then they are no longer routines. By being done with love and offered up to God with praise, they are thereby hallowed as the vessels of the tabernacle were hallowed–not because they were different from other vessels in quality or function, but because they were offered to God. A mother’s part in sustaining the life of her children and making it pleasant and comfortable is no triviality. It calls for self-sacrifice and humility, but it is the route, as was the humiliation of Jesus, to glory.

To modern mothers I would say “Let Christ himself be your example as to what your attitude should be. For he, who had always been God by nature, did not cling to his prerogatives as God’s equal, but stripped himself of all privilege by consenting to be a slave by nature and being born as a mortal man. And, having become man, he humbled himself by living a life of utter obedience, even to the extent of dying, and the death he died was the death of a common criminal. That is why God has now lifted him so high. . .” (Phil. 2:5-11 Phillips).

It is a spiritual principle as far removed from what the world tells us as heaven is removed from hell: If you are willing to lose your life, you’ll find it. It is the principle expressed by John Keble in 1822:

If on our daily course our mind
Be set to hallow all we find,
New treasures still, of countless price,
God will provide for sacrifice.

A good friend, a next door neighbour, a member of our church in Switzerland, a member of our small group, a lady who loved life, loved her family and loved the Lord – all this was DedeGayi who suddenly, with almost no warning, went to be with the Lord on Thursday

night. Your infectious laughter, your zest for life and your love for God’s people will be missed by us all, Dede.

It is not for the flock of sheep to know the pasture the Shepherd has in mind. It is for them simply to follow Him. If they knew that his plans included a valley of deep shadow, they would panic. Keeping close to the one they have learned to trust is all that is necessary. He will faithfully provide rest, refreshment, correction, and protection as the needs arise. His accompanying presence is guaranteed, all the way–even through the darkest shadows–to the house of the Lord. Elisabeth Elliot – available as part of a daily email devotional at http://www.backtothebible.org

I am reading ‘The Roots of Endurance’ by John Piper, which is the story of three great men of a bygone era: John Newton, Charles Simeon and William Wilberforce. John Piper studied the lives of these three men because he wanted to know what it was that made them persevere amidst great suffering and tremendous resistance. Piper contends that we live in an era of emotional fragility – and we would do well to learn from the lives of these men who seem to have had a secret of endurance which few of us have.

Here is something which struck me from the words of Charles Simeon: ‘My rule is – never to hear, or see, or know, what if heard, or seen, or known, would call for animadversion from me. Hence it is that I dwell in peace in the midst of lions.’ Piper comments: ‘We would all do well not to be curious about what others are saying about us. There is little good that can come of it: pride, if the comments are good; discouragement, if they are critical; anger, if they are false. These are not the emotions we need to cultivate. Trusted cousnel from reliable people, not rumors, is the stuff of good self-assessment.’

Perhaps one of the reasons for our modern emotional fragility is an over-awareness of what others think and say about us – and an under-awareness of what God thinks and says about us. Charles Simeon ‘devoted the first four hours of the day to private prayer and the devotional study of the Scriptures….Here was the secret of his great grace and spiritual strength.’

The UN Pro-Life Petition has grown to 200,000 names! 
 
Let’s go even higher!! 
 
Let’s get 300,000 names! 
 
Once more please ask everyone you know to go to
http://www.c-fam.org/publications/id.95/default.asp and sign the petition!

And ask them to ask all their friends, too!

I have been reading Alexander McCall Smith’s latest novel, ‘Cordoruy Mansions’ on line and was struck on this freezing cold, wet and windy day in N.Ireland, as I read this: ‘The British certainly lived in conditions of great discomfort, with their cold, draughty homes and their admiration for a culture of cold showers. But did they actually like to be uncomfortable, or did they accept discomfort as a constant factor in British life, like bad weather and run-down trains?’ Can anyone answer this for me?

You may want to read this and consider how best to respond. Pauline

Last September, I blogged about our reverse culture shock and wondered how long it would take us to feel at home here. I talked about some of the ways we knew we weren’t at home (and others must have known too!) – see blog entitled ‘Culture shock – in reverse?’.

Now, a year later, we are feeling more and more at home – but what does that look like?

Well, we know our way round a bit better (I now can find all three supermarkets in our home town).

We are tempted to drive on the ‘wrong’ side of the road less often (that’s a good thing).

Now we turn our heads when we hear French spoken.

We are aware of fewer gaps in the girls’ spoken English (I even heard one of them talking about ‘the dole’ the other day – until a year ago that meant a mountain top near where we lived in Switzerland!).

We enjoy the ease of having a carry-out (or is it a take-away?).

We are becoming more accustomed to the ‘banter’ that is such a way of life here.

Words like ‘diaper’ and ‘vacation’ and ‘pacifier’ have dropped from our vocabularies (having been added for the sake of ease in conversing with our American friends in Switzerland) – though I must admit I still do think twice when someone asks me if I want to ‘nurse’ their baby!

We are getting used to starting the day later than 6.30am and finishing it later than 9.30pm – though how much of that has to do with having teenage girls?

We are certainly getting used to phoning (not ‘calling’) people and having them phone us later than 9.30pm without automatically thinking it’s an emergency.

It’s interesting how many of these adjustments have had to do with language. I can now use the word ‘coup’ (or is that cowp?) freely in a sentence without having to explain what it means!

But just in case we are tempted to forget our ‘American’ or ‘international’ English, we have had several visitors here to help us keep it fresh. And we have even had the chance to use our French, firstly when Alan and I had the pleasure of escorting the President of Burundi and his entourage at the Franklin Graham event, and then when some Swiss friends visited us earlier in the summer.

Aaaah! the summer! Now, that is something we miss! The weather here is not quite what it was in Switzerland. We are certainly realizing why it is a constant topic of conversation – because it changes constantly. There is an old saying that if you are in Ireland and you don’t like the weather, wait a minute. It’s true that it changes all the time and it’s also true that we get lots of rain (see Alan’s blog about our weekend floods).

But then we didn’t come home for the weather…..

This morning I read these words in Psalm 131: ‘I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me’.

It got me to thinking – what is a weaned child like? What images does that phrase evoke for you?

For me, a weaned child evokes first and foremost an image of nurture. The child has got exactly what it wanted – its nurture – from its mother. If you have seen a hungry baby being put to its mother breast, you will recall how desperately the baby looks for the breast and will not be distracted by anything else. He/she is totally focussed on getting what he/she wants – and nothing else will do. How does that compare to my relationship with God? He ha promised to provide all the nurture I need (‘Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God’) and yet how often I am distracted by other things. It’s not necessarily that I want them instead of God – but I want them as well as God. I am not totally focussed in my pursuit of God. I am distracted by the cares and preoccupations of daily life, I am absorbed in my work, I focus a lot of energy and attention on the people in my life – all good things, but they should not distract me from the greatest goal of my life – ‘to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever’.

The second image I see when I think of a weaned child of one of satisfaction. Note that we are not talking about a nursing child – but a weaned child – one who has got what he/she wanted and is satisfied. The picture of a baby who has fallen asleep at its mother’s breast is one of satisfaction. What about me? Am I satisfied in God – or do I still run after other things which can never satisfy? When I ‘must have’ something, that something has taken the place of God in my life.

Coming out of the image of satisfaction is one of rest. Unlike us adults, a baby will often fall asleep after it has fed! He/she is satisfied, all his/her needs have been met – so he/she falls asleep. How often do I worry and strive after all the things which preoccupy me, when all I need do is rest – rest in the arms of the Lord who loves me and who ‘has promised to supply all my needs, according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus’.  He is the same one who says ‘Come to me, all you who labour and are heavy-laden and I will give you rest’. What many of us are yearning for – though we do not realize it in the midst of our busyness and restlessness – is that rest.

Associated closely with the concept of rest is one of trust. The baby can fall asleep in its mother’s arms because it trusts her implicitly. Who could imagine a baby lying in its mother’s arms, worrying about what will happen when it grows up – will its parents continue to provide for it? which school will it go to? which career will it choose? what about a spouse? No, the baby has all it needs for this moment, this day, and it falls asleep contentedly in its mother’s arms. God has promised me ‘all I need for life and godliness’ – all I need to live the Christian life – and yet how prone I am to worry and fret about the ‘what ifs’.

God, give me the grace to quieten myself like a weaned child with its mother – knowing Your nurture and the satisfaction, trust and rest which comes from being Your child.