These boots are made for walkin’ .

Our son Hans, living in England with his British wife Katy, has a big family — eight in all. This gives me cause for great joy, because six of them are my grandchildren.

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Having all these youngsters, ages nine and under, demands tremendous organization. I’ve been repeatedly thankful that Katy has a knack for keeping their lives in order. That goes for shoes and boots, too.

BootsSince this family lives in north England, rain is plentiful, along with a steady need for boots. They call them “wellies” after Britain’s Wellington boots, popular in the UK since the early 1800’s — for farming, hunting, and, in this case, puddle-jumping. Of course as the children grow, there’s a need for wellies in virtually every size.

Little Jonathan, 15 months old, had just come into his first pair of wellies when I was there recently. Though the boots were still a bit big on him, he wanted to be like his older siblings and wear them out to play.

Every so often, though, his foot would slip half way out of a boot, causing his next step to be a big stumble. An ankle-fold-over was the inevitable result, along with a plunge to the pavement, accompanied by some level of damage – skinned forehead, chin, cheek, or nose, and sometimes all of them. This was especially true when he was trying to walk his wellies on bumpy pavement.

His wobbly walking reminded me of the Bible verse that says if we fully trust in God’s wisdom rather than our own, he’ll make our paths straight. (Proverbs 3:5-6) But it also reminded me of another verse that says the Lord can keep us from stumbling.

JonathanBeing new on his feet and new in his wellies, Jonathan sometimes did more stumbling than walking, suffering injuries and the tears that went with them.

How nice for us to know that if we do things God’s way, we won’t have to stumble through life but can walk on the straight path he promises to make for us. That’s not to say we won’t experience hardship, but we won’t have to suffer self-inflicted injuries or the tears that accompany them when we stumble spiritually, falling away from God’s straight path.

It won’t take long for Jonathan to grow into his wellies, and if we’re smart, we’ll waste no time letting God have his way in our lives. After that, our stumbling and the tears that come with it will be kept to a minimum.

“To him who is able to keep you from stumbling and to present you before his glorious presence without fault and with great joy… be glory, majesty, power and authority, through Jesus Christ our Lord…” (Jude 1:24-25)

One Quick Question

A few days ago, I returned from two lively weeks with son Hans, his wife Katy, and their six children, in England. They home educate these children and are doing their best to raise them to know and love the Lord.

British Nymans

Every evening, after baths/showers and just before bedtime, Katy finds her way to the piano bench and begins playing their “hymn of the week,” the signal to gather for family worship. The children are each given a paper copy of the hymn, even those too young to read, and by the end of each week, they’ve all got it memorized.

Jonathan and LizzieAfterwards, Katy removes the two youngest, ages 15 months (Jonathan) and 3 (Lizzie), taking them upstairs for a children’s Bible story. The others stay with Hans for a more advanced study time, taking turns reading verses out loud. Then Hans gives a 15 minute commentary on the Scripture, leads in prayer, and it’s off to bed.

The evening before I returned home, I was happily anticipating our worship time with Hans and the older set, eagerly looking forward to hearing his thoughts and sharing in the discussion.

Though the children (ages 9, 8, 8, and 4) were supposed to wait till after Hans had explained the passage before asking their many questions, on this night Evelyn shot up her hand.

“Please, Daddy, just one little, tiny, quick question before I read the verses.”

“OK,” he said. “One quick one.”

“What’s prostitution?”

I caught Hans’ eye and we read each other’s thoughts. “Little… tiny… quick?” But Evelyn had asked with sincerity and was quietly waiting for an answer. Thankfully she’d already been told about the birds and the bees, so Hans started there.

“Well… you know what we talked about between a man and a woman… when they’re married. And prostitution is when someone pays money for sex.”

Before he could fully explain, though, Evelyn put up her hand.

“Who pays the money?”

Hans forged ahead. “The man,” he said.

At that moment he decided to try a diversion, going back to the Garden of Eden to detail God’s plan for marriage.

 

EvelynBut Evelyn (at right) pressed her point. “So, is it not right to have sex if you have to pay?”

“That’s right,” he said, searching for a way to end this “quick” discussion.

“But,” Evelyn said, “why would a man pay a woman to have sex?”

Drawing a deep breath he said, “Because it’s fun.”

As Evelyn took in this new information, she repeated it, half to herself. “It’s fun?”

“You know what?” Hans said. “Your little, tiny, quick question has used up most of our Bible time, and we’re going to finish this discussion later. Right now, it’s time for prayer.”

“OK, Daddy,” she said, “but I’ve been reading in Song of Solomon that…”

At this point Hans interrupted her with a simple statement. “Let’s pray.” And that was that.

“Listen to your father, who gave you life.” (Proverbs 23:22)

Newlywed Love (#120)

November 19-23, 1970

The weekend before Thanksgiving, Nate and I hosted a party for our Sunday school class. We cleaned, grocery-shopped, put a party menu together, and readied for our first “big” company.

J.O.Y. party

I pulled out a couple of my wedding-gift cook books and told Nate I would make an attempt at some interesting recipes. Thankfully it wasn’t a dinner but just dessert.

After baking two cakes, one a “wine cake” and the other plain, I made a raspberry sauce to drizzle over the plain one. If it seemed strange, we could always smother it with whipping cream from the squirt-can.

Of course we bought chips, dips, soft drinks, and even a little wine, though we weren’t sure what Pastor Ralph would think of that.

As we prepared, John and Cathy seemed interested, so we invited them to join us, hoping they might one day attend our lively Sunday school class, too.

All 20 guests threw themselves into a game of charades, and laughs were plentiful. We continued till 1:00 AM – despite the next day being a Monday. John and Cathy were the last to leave, close to 2:00 AM.

Teaching was a challenge the next day after such a short night, because the children and I were preparing for an open house before the Thanksgiving break.

Tee pee exampleTo accompany our unit on American Indians, we were building a six-seater canoe… and a full-sized tee pee! I wondered what ever possessed me to agree to such extreme projects — probably the enthusiasm of some adorable 5-year-olds.

Arriving home to Nate’s loving welcome made everything better, though, and he suggested we nap together before dinner. Two hours later, the world looked brighter, and we were energized to make it through a long evening.

Nate went back to his books, and I wrote the November newsletter for my classroom parents. Many had said they appreciated the monthly communiqué about what their children were doing in school (below) and felt like they were part of the team. My real goal was to let them know how much I loved each of their kids.Parent letter

Open house went well, and the next day was our party send-off to the Thanksgiving weekend. Usually it made me sad not to see them for four days straight, but not this time. My mind was racing with Thanksgiving preparations.

That evening, our family would arrive for 24 hours, and there was much to do. A year earlier we’d eaten Thanksgiving dinner as unmarried singles two days from our wedding. This year we would be hosting as a couple – and it felt great.

 

The RidlensMom and Dad would be bringing brother Tom and three aunties. Mary, Bervin, and baby Luke would come the next morning. And we invited our Danville friends Rick and Barbara (left), who had no local family and no Thanksgiving plans.

Finding beds for our four older relatives would be a logical challenge, but we were glad they wanted to come at all. It would be a holiday to remember!

“How wonderful, how beautiful, when brothers and sisters [and families] get along!” (Psalm 133:1 The Message)