The Age-Long Minute

“Hold us quiet through the age-long minute

While Thou art silent, and the wind is shrill;

Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, are in it?

Can the heart faint, that waiteth on Thy will?"

Amy Carmichael

          My prayers are peopled with friends in that age-long minute right now. There are those recovering from life-threatening health issues, facing fear and even despair at a changed future – and some helplessly watching their child in that spot; some waiting for test results and hearing frightening words and predictions for themselves or their child; and there is the mother watching her child trade safety and goodness for a life on the streets and a quick fix.

          I know the age-long minute well; I know the lying awake, staring into blackness, heart pounding, spirit crying out in terror. I know jumping at every phone call or siren, waiting for results or for that thing which I fear to come to pass.

          And that – fear – is at the core of the age long minute; the terror that the thing we most fear may come, and we dwell on it, chew on it, and though we hate it, we savor it and taste every bitter swallow. A friend reaches out with wise words when I find myself in that place, and reminds me to think only on that which I know to be TRUE.

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things.

Philippians 4:8

          And so, each time, I weeded through thoughts. Many times, situations seemed bleak, but paring down, there was what I knew to be true. Symptoms? Yes. Someone making bad choices? Yes. A lifetime of suffering? That was predicting the worst. A future destroyed? Again, fear running away, taking hope and joy captive. I learned as I went – and am still learning – to take the truth, accept it, and do what I can when there is something to be done. And then the rest – those things most feared – they must be left at the nail-scarred feet of the only One wise and strong enough to handle them, turned over and given with hands now open to clutch the hem of His robe.

          And even in the darkest times, there were things that were right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent or praiseworthy, and thinking on them and giving thanks brought peace, pushed away fears, made a subtle shift and allowed God’s light to shine in. I know this is the medicine most needed, even when the first swallow is hard to take.

          Do not fear, for I have called you by name; you are mine. When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they will not overflow you.

Isaiah 43:2

          In that age-long minute, clutching tight to Jesus in the boat with us, He gives good gifts. My mother, a cancer survivor, reflects that she would not trade the cancer if it meant trading the peace she felt during that time; it was that precious. I have grown and changed through those minutes and would not go back to being the unscarred, self-confident 30-year-old I once was. I pray for ease, but I know that I hear His voice most when I am hard-pressed and I press in.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.

Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

2 Corinthians 4:7-9; 16-18

          “Can the boat sink while Thou, dear Lord, are in it?” In the boat, in that minute, we are not alone. I pray to remember, and am thankful for those who remind me.

Trusting in Him,

Aimee

The Clean-up Game, and Many Thanks

      Recently, we enjoyed visiting with good friends - an evening of nine kids running around, fellowship and fun. At the end of the visit, the room was strewn with matchbox cars and trains (not an unusual state, actually). Tom, the dad, taught us the "game" he'd been using with his kids to make cleaning up quick and fun. We've since tried it twice after busy mornings, when the house was strewn with not just toys, but books, curriculum, and clothes (where do they come from - especially the socks???). It gets the job done so beautifully that I had to share!

       Here's how it went. I set the timer for two minutes, and each child had to scurry about as quickly as possible, picking things up, putting them where they belonged, and keeping count of the number of items they'd cleaned. I had to be very clear that the items were to be put in their proper places - not on the hearth or coffee tables or counters - in order to count. At the end of two minutes, each child gave me their total, and the child who'd put away the most items was now excused from the game. The timer was set for another two minutes, and at the end of that time, the next child with the winning total was excused. Another two minutes of cleaning followed, and the last guy left had the timer set for just one more minute, to finish the job. I kept myself busy during this time too, and it was amazing to see, at the end of 7 minutes, just how much we'd gotten done!

      It was so much nicer to do our afternoon reading in a clean living room - could it have attracted the hummingbird spotted outside the bay window as we read, or the sparrows scolding there a bit later? Perhaps not, but still, the game is a keeper.

      I'm off to bake for a picnic. How blessed we are to have the kinds of freedoms we do, to enjoy this Memorial Day weekend and worship as we see fit. My thoughts and prayers are with those mourning loved ones who've made the ultimate sacrifice for our freedom, and with those who are serving now.

"Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends."

John 15:13

Thank you doesn't seem like enough.

Trusting in Him,
Aimee

On Amy Carmichael and Thorns

          For the past few weeks, the kids have been immersed in the story of Amy Carmichael, Rescuer of Precious Gems, and they were sad to read the last chapter yesterday. Their daily narrations piqued my interest in her story yet again, and I pulled out my copy of Amy Carmichael, God’s Missionary, a slim but meaty little volume she wrote in 1939 while ministering in India, to set a standard for missionaries. It was as challenging then as it is now.

          “For our calling, by its very nature, calls us apart from everything else; it has for its object nothing less than this: the knowing of Christ, the living of Christ, among those who do not know Him. The love of our God must shine through us unhindered if we would live to Him here. Surely, whatever makes for holiness of life, for the clearing of the glass through which the light shines, this is for us and nothing else.”

                                     Amy Carmichael, God’s Missionary

          And I know I am not a missionary like Katie or Summer, some of today's versions of Carmichael, and yet I think, here in my home, educating young ones and guiding young adults, this is my own little mission field. In any case, I know what is needed for this job and this life, and it is more of Him, and less of me.

          “The love of our God must shine through us unhindered if we would live to Him here. Surely, whatever makes for holiness of life, for the clearing of the glass through which the light shines, this is for us and nothing else.”

          What hinders, keeps that love of God from shining through – what clouds the glass?  Surely, distractions and worries cloud my thoughts and fill my mind, and out come snappish answers and curt responses. Seeking escape from concerns, I become mindlessly busy. Can any light shine through the spiritual dullness that ensues?

          “Now he who received seed among the thorns is he who hears the word, and the cares of this world and the deceitfulness of riches choke out the word, and he becomes unfruitful.”   Matthew 13:22

          The cares of this world choke out the word…. and then these choking cares – worries or things I care about more than God or those around me -  keep His love from shining through. We have this precious gift, this word, and I wonder how often I fill up with it, only to have it choked, midday, with thorns of fear, confusion, or mind-numbing distraction.

          I’d never consider going to the filling station to fill my car’s tank with that costly, precious gas, and then go home to fill the tank with sugar. I’d surely not travel far after that. And yet I fill up with this word, and so quickly let it become choked out.

        Amy finishes the first chapter of her little book with St. Paul’s life as an example of giving ones-self wholly to their calling.

          “He stood forth in the midst of his shipmates and said, ‘God, whose I am, and whom I serve,…’  Can we imagine him frittering away his time in aimless trifles, matters which had not as their end the salvation of the people on board or how own preparation for the battle before him? Could our attitude of life on board ship be always described as that single sentence: ‘God, whose I am, and who I serve.”

          Convicting. Challenging. Praying today for thorns to be weeded out and cast aside, and for His wonderful light to shine through.  

Trusting in Him,
Aimee

Another Birthday and Fudge Frosting

        On the heels of Mothers' Day, we had another celebration here - Littlest's 9th birthday! He's been counting down the days for months, and the day finally came. My father has a tradition of taking each child out for breakfast on their birthday, and somehow this slipped my mind (and his!). On Monday morning, at 5 of 8, I asked Littlest what he'd like for breakfast, and he replied that he figured Pa would be there soon to get him. I called my father quickly, and he and Littlest made arrangements, in which Littlest assured him he didn't have to rush, but could come over at 8:55.

Later that evening, at Littlest's request, we had chocolate cake with strawberry jam in the middle, and a rich, boiled fudge frosting on top.

(Fudge Frosting - Stir together and melt 2 C sugar, 1/2 c cocoa, 1/2 c Spectrum shortening, 1/2 c Silk coconut milk - boil 2 minutes, cool, stir in 2 t vanilla. If you cool it quickly in an icewater bath the way I did - not recommended - it'll be a thick paste you will have to press onto the cake. Try cooling slowly and pouring over cake for a glossy finish...)

       There were lots of rowdy family members,   

and singing and gifts,

and a boy who went to bed happy, counting down the 365 days until he can do it all again. And yes, I did realize at the end of the night that he'd had a sticker on his forehead throughout the evening.

It has been such fun to watch this little one blossom and grow these 6 years he has been with us - a privilege and a wonderful gift. He has a sweet, gentle nature, a way with animals, a sense of direction I've never seen on a child this age, and a fun sense of humor. He's a great baking companion, budding chef and thoughtful boy who loves to share. Littlest, you are wonderful, and we love you. This may be the last year we can call you Littlest...

A wonderful surprise in my inbox - a photo from a special friend in Korea, of Littlest at 2

Thanking God for another year with our guy, and
Trusting in Him,

Aimee

Narration ideas and the Rower's Debut

            In our homeschool, we use narrations rather than comprehension questions and quizzes. Narration is deceptively simple; it requires the child to tell back, after a single reading, what they recall of a story or lesson. A younger child begins with short passages, like Aesop’s Fables, and gives narrations orally. I write down some of these narrations, and sometimes, I’ll ask the child to copy it into his composition book, perhaps illustrating what he’s written. At about the age of ten, the child begins to write more of his narrations – a few per week – while still giving an oral narration for each thing he’s read, whether for history, science, or literature. This means I listen to a plethora of narrations each day, but it’s been fascinating to see what they’ve learned.



            As of late, the Rower, 14, has grown tired of giving straight narrations of Moby Dick (what a long book!); he wanted a challenge. I found a fantastic list of narration ideas at Simply Charlotte Mason, and he jumped at the chance to try something different. He shocked me by choosing to write a ballad, and his enthusiasm is inspiring me to mix up the narrations a little bit and try more of the ideas with the other kids – perhaps some might work in your school. Here, in the Rower’s blogging debut, is his ballad.

The First Lowering

Hark hear the watchman crying out,

As the morning rooster crows.

Hark hear the watchman crying out,

Shouting out from his high post

Hear the clock of action toll,
Singing out its rising notes

“Hasten, hasten!” it extols,

“Each man quickly to the boats!”

“Hasten, hasten!” it extols,

And a war cry wells up in each throat.

In the fray of action,

The time for thought has come and gone.

Instinct, the minds now ruling faction,

Urges now the hunters on.

They rush forth with steely lance,

Like great plunging razor talons

”I’ll not rest,” say they in fierce trance,

“Till I or foe have fallen.”

And so the hunters chase, and chase,

Until they have found their prey.

As the leopard prowls the jungle,

So they sail in ocean spray.

”Heave ho, my hearties,”

Starbuck now doth urge,

“Break your back, my rowing party,

And I’ll not let our paths diverge.”

So the intrepid hunters these,

Have come to the beast they would have die.

The harpooner knight sets his lance free,

He lets his harpoon fly,
And when it hits the beast,

And pierces his great side,

There is a mighty wave unleashed,

Stronger than a full moon’s tide.

Crew and captain are cast from boat,

Into the churning waters,

Into the water they’re all thrown,

Into the churning waters.

Our heroes float by capsized boat,

Wishing to heaven for

Something that seems beyond all hope;

To be rejoined

With the vessel they were on before.

Alas, they had been left for dead,

For a gale had struck the sea.

But there is no great need for fret,

As you soon shall see;

The main ship had kept its first course,

And by some course of luck,

It made its way to the very place,

Where whale and boat had struck.

And so the warriors

Returned,

Empty-handed,

But unhurt,

To hunt another day.

Wishing you a beautiful day, and

Trusting in Him,

Aimee

****note**** I've had a few comments sent to my inbox that are unavailable when I try to read them online. If you've written and I haven't seen your comment, so sorry! I do love the chance to "meet" visitors here and value your comments!

Thank you, Rainbow Kids

     Ever feel you owe a debt of gratitude to someone? That's how I feel about Rainbow Kids. Years ago, when we first began to discuss adoption, I had a strong sense that our next child would not be the healthy, white newborn so coveted by couples hoping to adopt (and this implies no judgement - we just knew those babies would find families, and we felt called in another direction). We had three children who happened to have been born healthy, but we knew they could have been born with any variety of issues or disabilities, and they'd still have been our beloved children. Somehow, I knew our child would be waiting due to a medical issue, and once we learned how much harder it is for a little boy, particularly with any health issues, to find a family, we knew our next child would be a boy. But where on earth would he be, and how would we find him?

      Our local agency only placed healthy infants, but our social worker referred us to Children's Home Society and Family Services of Minnesota, where the Korean waiting child coordinator directed us to the Rainbow Kids photolisting. There, we were stunned to see hundreds of children listed, from countries throughout the world, with issues as mild as missing fingers and as severe as serious heart issues. All beautiful, all precious in His sight, all deserving of families.

     There, we found our beautiful Musician, and fell in love with his sweet face even before we understood his special need or had a homestudy completed. How excited we were when we could finally be matched, and while we waited for his homecoming, we fell in love with the Wrestler, also on Rainbow Kids. Later, our Littlest would be listed there as well.

     Martha Osborne, the founder of Rainbow Kids, has an incredible heart for orphan care and adoption, and she's put together a beautiful video highlighting some of the amazing Rainbow Kids who are home with their forever families now. Take a moment to watch and be blessed. Then check out the adoption stories,  and ask yourself: "Is there a Rainbow Kid waiting for me?"

Giving thanks, and
Trusting in Him,
Aimee

Pure Yumminess - a GFDF Chocolate Cake

            We had a lovely birthday celebration with Nanny (my mom) and are back into the swing of school – but what fun it was to have a day of birthday school with my helper! So much baking and writing and drawing!

We thought you might enjoy trying the cake that got rave reviews that night. The original recipe is from Elizabeth Barbone’s Easy Gluten Free Baking (a GREAT book – everything in it turns out so well!), but I’ve adapted it to make it gluten, dairy and corn free by changing the liquids, and substituting for the corn starch and baking powder (did you know baking powder contains corn? I've adjusted the ingredients here, but if you'd like to make your own corn-free baking powder, simply mix 1 t cream of tartar with 1/2 t baking soda).

 Before baking, I take out a bit of this batter to make myself a few cupcakes before I pour the rest into the pan. I frost the family's cake, while I enjoy my babycakes with strawberries. If you can find a corn-free powdered sugar, the frosting could be made corn-free as well.

 Classic Chocolate Cake (gluten, dairy and corn free)

1 ¾ cups gluten free flour mixture
1 cup unsweetened GF cocoa powder
1 t. cream of tartar
2 t baking soda
1 t salt
1 ½ t xanthan gum
2 c granulated sugar

2 large eggs

1 cup non-dairy milk (I like Silk coconut milk)
½ c canola oil
2 t GF, CF vanilla
1 c very hot water

Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Grease a 9x13 pan, or line 24 muffin cups with paper liners. In a large bowl, mix together the dry ingredients. Add eggs, milk, oil and vanilla and beat for 2 minutes at medium speed. Scrape down bowl, and add hot water and mix until blended. Pour batter into prepared pan(s) and bake. For a 9x13 pan, the cake should bake about 45 minutes; for cupcakes, 18-20. I very, very, slightly underbaked mine – a toothpick was almost clean after being inserted into the center – and the cake seemed a little moist on top after it cooled. However, it resulted in the most lovely, moist cake, and people asked repeatedly whether it was really gluten free.

Chocolate Frosting (dairy and gluten free, but not corn free)

3 T Spectrum Shortening (pure pressed palm oil)
1 lb confectioners sugar
3 T cocoa powder
3T non-dairy milk, plus more as needed
1 T GF vanilla

Blend the shortening, sugar and cocoa powder until it’s well mixed. Add the liquid and vanilla, and blend well. Add more liquid, a T at a time, continuing to blend well, until the frosting reaches spreading consistency.

 Happy Eating!

Trusting in Him,

Aimee