CARPENTERS BUILDS HOUSES, LOVE BUILDS HOMES
At our house there are constant reminders of children and childhood-statuettes, books, pictures and an unnumbered amount of keep-sakes from our children's childhood days. I'll have to confess that my wife is mostly responsible for hanging onto the many odds and ends that come out of little boys pockets and little girl's purses, or whatever they happen to keep in them. I usually took the pictures if a commercial photographer didn't do it; but, since I'm not a very avid or able photographer, most of the pictures were taken at the urging or prompting of my wife. However, keepsakes, pictures, etc. of and about children isn't all there is to the atmosphere of a home at our house. The children and grand-children come home as often as possible, when we can, we visit them. Although a few miles separate us (Shawn is still at home) the love for parents for children and children to parents plus a mutual love for God, still binds us together.
What I said about our home could probably be said about many and, perhaps, all of the home to which this newsletter will go. May is the month that we feature the family and once again lift up the mothers and children of our land to show our appreciation to them and to thank God for the homes they represent. Let us not neglect this in May and pledge ourselves to equal love and remembrance the other eleven months of the year, for you see: "Houses are made of sticks and stones, But only love make a home."
April 27, 1976
There was a strong wind blowing and every match that I lit in my attempt to set the garbage on fire was blown out by the wind. Realizing that I was fighting a losing battle, I moved around until my body was between the wind and the garbage I was trying to burn. With this protection the first match I tried stayed lit until the paper in the garbage caught fire. That tiny match could not stay lit against the force of the wind but with the protection of my body, it burned until it had fulfilled its task.
As I thought of that tiny match and its struggle against the wind, I thought of tiny lives with vast capacities for good that God sends into our homes. Strong winds of evil influences would seek to extinguish all the good that is in that little life. Without the sheltering influence of Christian parents and homes, that little life stands every chance of being blighted and blasted into a helpless victim of sin.
Let us give thanks to God for Christian homes that give to the world men and women that bring glory to God and good to their generation. Let us also provide every means of the grace of God in the home and thru the Church to shelter that tiny one that God gave us from harmful influence and to nurture its potential of becoming a child of God thru the grace of our wonderful Lord and Saviour, Jesus the Christ of God.
May 2, 1973
Did you ever have the urge to disassociate yourself from someone you felt was a poor influence in your life, but hated to make the final break? That's how we felt about Stella, our blond baby-sitter who worked for us several years. We were quite happy with her for a while, but over a period to time we began to resent her, yet we felt that we couldn't just throw her out either. Stella was a live-in sitter who came highly recommended. Our kids loved her on sight and soon became her faithful and obedient friends. When she called, they came running. They certainly did not respond so willingly to me! It disturbed me, but I reasoned. "She certainly is a better storyteller than I am. I shouldn't be surpassed or hurt." What really began to get under my skin was her attitude! She'd sit and smoke in front of the children, then tell them in the next breath that they shouldn't do it; it would harm their health. She had no qualms about drinking in front of them, either. Some of her stories were innocent enough, but I keep constant watch to make sure she didn't start anything really "raunchy". I'd try to cut her off quick, but the kids would raise their voices in her defense. "We like Stella, Mom! Don't be so mean." And she would just sit there with a smirk, as if to say, "They love me more than you, old girl!" Sometimes in the evening she would tell me stories. When she launched into her long, fascinating tales, I found that I could forget my troubles for awhile, even let the dirty dishes pile up in the sink. She never offered to help with them, naturally. Then one day she developed a terrible tic in her eye. She managed to continue her baby-sitting, but her personality suffered. I'm one to strike while the iron is hot, so Stella was quickly and firmly removed. The kids missed her for awhile, but gradually they began to play games again, and dusted off their dolls and balls for lots of play in the yard. I can't regret that she is gone! We're a family again. Stella?- her name was Stella Vision.
Sunday, May 1 is the beginning of National Family Week. Wouldn't it be nice if we dismissed Stella from her baby-sitting job and renewed our acquaintance with our families by resuming some of the healthful character building activities in our homes?
April 29, 1980
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