There is nothing Satan wants more than to destroy your marriage. In so doing, he effectively destroys your family, the very foundation of a home of faith. There is strength and security in the family. As the Bible tells us, “Two are better than one. For if the one falls, his friend will be there to help him up.” God knew that we, man and woman, needed one another and created us to be together. The Christian marriage will always be under attack from Satan for this reason. A home undivided is strong, but if Satan can bring division, he has weakened it.

Read this article in it’s entirety at  http://www.helium.com/items/1336385-how-to-save-a-christian-marriage

When Queen Elizabeth was a little girl an artist came to the Royal Palace to paint a formal portrait.  Posing took an incredible amount of time and it was not easy for  Elizabeth to be still.  As she grew weary of the endeavor she started making  faces, slouching,  pulling her dress up over her head–behaving anything but like a little lady.  Her mother was mortified and finally, in a moment of exasperation pulled her daughter over to a corner in the room and very calmly said to her, “Elizabeth, my dear, remember Who You Are.“

This week our children’s service will focus on the story of Noah and the Ark.  Noah was the only one in his generation favored by God.  He was the Man With The Plan.  His job was to save the world.  But it wasn’t his plan, it was God’s.  The Bible tells us that God has a plan for EACH ONE of us.  And as Christians, they are plans for good and not for disaster.  This is so that God can instill in us a longing for a brighter future and the assurance of hope that God’s plan for us is nothing short of perfect.  (paraphrasing Jeremiah 29:11)  The perfect plan requires obedience.  It’s when we try to “improve on the plan” or take short cuts, dismissing God’s will, that can bring about severe consequences.

Guiding our children to have Christ-like character and to exhibit Christian behavior is challenging.  Sometimes as parents, our children can try us with questions of “Why do I have to ___________?”  Or “What’s the point of _________, it doesn’t matter anyway,”  or my favorite:  “__________ gets to do ________, why can’t I?”  At times like these it is appropriate to remind children that God has a plan for them and that obedience is part of that reward.  In short, you can simply say, “Remember Who You Are.”

~Sharon

I decided to up the accountability anty I have decided to give you all *gasp* quick weekly updates of my weight.  In addition I will “bless” you all by giving you a monthly wrap up with pictoral evidence. Yikes!

Vital Statistics April 23, 2009:

5 foot 6 inches tall, 238.8 pounds ( which is 17.1 stone or 37.6 kilos for my european readers)

I know, ghastly! I am just blessed to have a husband who notices that i am a bit softer but not enough to think I am fat… God Bless the man!!  I really should have his eyes examined but I kind of like him thinking the way he does!

Last night as I was craving extra portions of dinner:) I started thinking about self control and what does it really mean and how does it benefit me.  It is easy to start thinking along the lines of why deny myself.  It seems to be much more gratifying to eat whatever I want when I want it.  In today’s world culture, more so in the USA I am afraid, we have become such an instant gratification society.  If it takes effort we are disinclined to take part.

So, how does self control help me?  While the short term may be hard the long term benefits are tremendous.  This not only is in relation to weight loss, smaller dress size, or a healthier me.  This is also true in relationships, education,  my relationship with God and family.  For example, as a mum sometimes it would be easier to not be involved in my children’s activities, school, interests, daily devotions etc.  I know  scandalous that I would say that, but it’s true.  By going outside of myself and investing in my children’s lives, I have the benefit of really getting to know them and growing closer to them as they grow.   While it may be easier to lay on the couch reading a good books sometimes, I can see the benefit of  sowing good seeds in their lives as they grow to be genuinnely good godly children.  Ok, so they may be 12, 6, and 2 1/2 respectively but the truth remains.

Here comes the fabulous part, when I screw up with self control, whether it be with my kids or my new diet, God, family, and even weight watchers(!) give me grace to dust myself off and get myself back on track.

The keys are:

Be honest with yourself about what happened and why.

Confess your sin/transgression/ or overindulgence.  Apologise (hey you can even apologise to yourself if you ate too much cake )

Make restitution as needed.

Stay accountable Whether this be a prayer partner or friends at weight watchers, when it comes to matters of self control it is near impossible to succeed if we are not in an accountability partnership of some sort.  I included the following Bible passage as an example of the ultimate accountabilty and cheerleading section a girl, or boy, could pray for!

Hebrews 12: 1-3

¹Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us runwith endurance the race that is set before us, ²looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith,who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God.

Pray for Grace in whatever situation you are struggling.  We are NOT PERFECT.  We will stumble and need a hand up.

Strive always to attain THE STANDARD but realize that we can not do it alone.  It is through this struggle that His grace through my battles with self control are so sweet.

Romans 5:19-21

¹⁹For as by the one man’s disobedience the many were made sinners, so by the one man’s obedience the many will be made righteous. ²⁰Now the law came in to increase the trespass, but where sin increased,grace abounded all the more, ²¹so that, as sin reigned in death, grace also might reign through righteousness leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

I read recenty in a book by Dr. Gottman that a common factor in successful marriages is the making of repair attempts quickly and meaningfully by one or both spouses when there is a disagreement or hurt feelings.

Basically, this is an outworking of the “don’t let the sun go down on your wrath”, or “don’t go to bed angry” principles.

I have tried it both ways.  I have been stubornly silent for hours or days in my first marriage.  Life finally spoke loudly and cleary enough to me that I make deliberate effort to not withdraw this way in my new marriage.  I came to understand how hurtful this is to the other person and the relationship.

Instead, I now grit my teeth and make a repair attempt at first realistic opportunity.  It is not comfortable to start, but feels so much better once it is done and the incident that made the repair attempt necessary is in the past.

A repair attempt is simply an effort to restore the relationship after a clash.  It can be an apology, an admission, a hug, a joke (that is not belittling or hurtful), or any other gesture that says, “you are more important to me than this issue and I am sorry that we had this problem”.

I find that my new wife and I can go through things my previous wife and I never did.   The change is largley credited to the fact that my new wife and I make repair attempts as soon as possible, while my ex and I found ways to blame and avoid.

I tell ya, it is a tiny thing, but it is a huge thing.

I am so much closer to my wife when we know that there is not a potential dark cloud hanging over us of the potential of an incident arising that we cannot get past quickly.  It allows us to trust the relationship more. 

Ciao.

Chaz

The unfamiliar, heart wrenching scream of a toddler becomes louder as her mum who is holding her approaches the waiting room. It’s an adorable little Asian girl wearing a pink hoodie, coral tights with a smiley face on her bottom and frills around the cuffs. She wears Dora shoes and is squinting her eyes together, squeezing out tears!
‘Oh, what’s wrong, sweetheart,’ I ask and her Mum just smiles at me registering kindness in my voice with a nod! Then it becomes obvious to me. She doesn’t want to be put down, she doesn’t want to walk. She wants to be held close to her mummy. Two lanky teenage boys are beside her, trying to help but it’s clear that she only wants her mother.
“Oh,” Sam says. “She’s so beautiful. She reminds me of Max.” (who Sam used to nanny).

I’ve been thinking of babies all day so it’s surprising to see one in 12a. Amongst other things, today is the day that Sam has her zoladex needle. She has this every month. It’s a huge needle that injects a pellet into Sams tummy. It’s an experiment that will hopefully preserve and protect Sam’s ovaries until she finishes her chemotherapy treatment.

There is a theory about ovary preservation that the doctors have developed. Well, it’s an observation really! The studies of prepubesant girls with Leukaemia found that they got their periods at the end of chemo treatment but girls already in puberty did not get their periods back. So the idea is to put the period on hold throughout treatment and to stop the body from ovulating. The doctors hope that through this procedure Sam will be able to produce a period at the end of treatment.

Today in gynacology we reflected on those first two days here. What a whirlwind of information we were caught up in. I can hardly believe that I didn’t register that my daughter was being tested for Leukemia. I didn’t think it when my GP rang me at work and told me to go and drive Sam to ER that her counts were low, that he’d called already and they were expecting us. I didn’t register when we signed the risk forms for a blood transfusion, or when they asked about headaches or examined her back. I didn’t register when they asked Sam three times that day whether she had siblings or even when they did that very first bond marrow biopsy

.Despite the fact I’ve read “My Sister’s Keeper” by Jodi Piccoult, I didn’t register nor even for a moment consider that my daughter might have Leukemia.

I was planning for 2009 to be a good year. I thought Sam might have a blood transfusion and be sent home (since her iron was low,HB was 26 on arrival) but I never suspected anything as sinister as Cancer.

In hospital today Sam and I reflected back to that first day when she was told by the doctor that

“1. She had ALL Leukemia

2. Without treatment she would be dead in 3 months, with treatment she had a 60% chance of survival,

3. That she would be unlikely to have any children

…Any questions?”

It had been that blunt.

The next day the gynecologist came to visit to talk about the possible options to preserve the hope that Sam would one day be able to have babies. The day after that Sam agreed to do everything in her power to make that possible. That was when she started the ‘zoladex’ needle.

We laughed with Jayne today recalling the events of the last three months. Jayne is kind and tries to find an unscarred piece of flesh to inject the needle. Sam has been receiving needles everyday for the last 7 days to increase her white blood count, so her tummy and her arms have been jabbed all over. Sam squeezes my hand and I am so proud to be the one whose hand she wants to squeeze more than anyone else’s. As horrible as this all is, we are in it together. Our bond is tight. I pray over my grandchildren as I squeeze back reminding her of how incredibly brave she is.

The voice of the little Asian girl is the sound of a promise. I am anticipating the day, in years to come when a similar scream comes down the corridors of my house. Perhaps Sam will be going away for the weekend with her husband and her baby will want Sam above anything else. This is the joy and frustration of motherhood. To be the ONLY one who can make it okay.

As I overhear the nurse, I discover the CNC is about to give this sweet Asian mum ‘Ara C (Cytarabine).’ I say to Sam “She’s having Ara C,” and Sam looks at me with compassionate eyes. “The vomiting chemo” Sam says and we both feel the weight of what this could mean for the family in front of us. The older boy takes the toddler but the screaming gets louder and she begins to kick his shins. “Mumma, Mumma!’ I wonder if the word is the same in every language?

When the mum returns from the treatment room she laughs and takes her daughter to her lap and holds her close. I fossick in my bag for a treat for the little girl. The mum does not speak English and her son says “its okay.” I ask him if they have anyone to help you at home? And he tells me, with his hands mostly that we have each other. I am not sure if I am being understood but I feel such compassion that my throat has tight. I am wondering how they will cope, this young family looking after their mum in a foreign land.

Dr Greenwood is his cranky self. I present the blood results on a sheet of A4 rejoicing that all her counts are up. He is cynical. “Of course they are, she’s been having GCSF. What we need is for Sam’s counts to go up by themselves.”

He glances over Sam’s chest where a rash has developed. He is clearly uninterested and tells us to see Yvonne before we go to see what it might be. He tells us to go and schedule a bone marrow biopsy for next Monday and informs me he won’t be here. “Now, these are the things that you need to know from the blood results before the procedure goes ahead.” I write down every thing he says suddenly feeling like a medical student responsible to get it right because my daughter’s life depends on it. I’m amazed of how much responsibility we carry for Sam’s treatment. I am thankful I speak English and have a fairly good ability to grasp all that is going on.

Unscathed by his negativity Sam and I are rejoicing. We are going to “Presence.” Reid and Grant are on their way so we can drive to hospital together. We are going to worship God, to hear Pastor Phil speak. It’s what we have been waiting for all week. Just to be in God’s presence with a crowd of people knowing her counts are high enough to make it ’safe.’

Paul writes (Message Version) “This resurrection life you received from God is not a timid, grave-tending life. It’s adventurously expectant, greeting God with childlike faith. “What’s next Papa? God’s spirit touches our spirits and confirms who we really are. We know who He is and we know who we are: Father and children. And we know we are going to get what’s coming to us- an unbelievable inheritance! We go through exactly what Christ goes through. If we go through hard times with him, then we’re certainly going to go through good times with him!”

“I feel so fat.  I was so thin when Ronan and I got together, now look at me. sigh.. Where has all of my energy gone?  Everything hurts.  I can’t possibly keep up with my kids.  Since it’s hopeless and I’m desperate pass me that donut, would ya?”

I wish I could say that was a inner dialogue that didn’t happen too often , but that would be a bit of a fib.  It can be so easy for me to wallow in that general (almost comfortable) malaise of dissatisfaction.   Inertia takes over and I will just sit, knit (thanks Kelly! ) , talk to friends, spend time on the computer, or just do general housework and mummy tasks.    Don’t get me wrong.  There is nothing wrong or ungodly about the above tasks.  It’s just that when they are used as an avoidance tool that there is a problem for me.  Too easy to pout and too hard to look above and actually do something about what I am pouting over.

Today I am going to start a change in my life.  I am joining my local weight watchers chapter and starting to get off my ever widening bum and start moving.  I don’t only want to dream about being  that mum that can run and play with her kids, I want to BE that mum.  With some perserverence, prayer, and accountability from my friends it won’t be a dream it will be an actuality.

Lest anyone think that this is not a spiritual quest, I beg to differ.  I am not looking towards vanity with this goal but with treating this body that God gave me with respect.  My primary vocation ordained by Him is motherhood.  To do this for His glory I need to be healthy and have the energy to instill His love in my children’s lives.   They need to know that this life is a precious gift that he has redeemed for us  and that we are to use  this life he has given us to the fullest.

1 Corinthians 6:19-20

¹⁹Or do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit within you, whom you have from God? You are not your own, ²⁰ for you were bought with a price. So glorify God in your body.

The Three Sisters is one of the most frank portrayals of “marriage as prostitution” (as Mary Wollstonecraft described marrying for material reasons) within all of Austen’s writings.

Miss Stanhope takes no pains to conceal her motives while negotiating her price:

“You must build me an elegant Greenhouse and stock it with plants. You must let me spend every Winter in Bath, every Spring in Town, Every Summer in taking some Tour, and every Autumn at a Watering Place, and if we are at home the rest of the year (Sophy and I laughed) You must do nothing but give Balls and Masquerades. You must build a room on purpose and a Theatre to act Plays in. The first Play we have shall be Which is the Man, and I will do Lady Bell Bloomer.”

Which is the Man is a play by Hannah Cowley about a fascinating widow who cannot make up her mind among several admirers.

In 1787 Austen’s family considered performing it at Steventon. Although other plays ended up being performed then, Austen was well familiar with Cowley’s plays, and quoted lines from them in her letters.

You can read it in Austenette’s Repository. Follow the link Which is the Man