Category Archives: Events

My favorite sister, Posie

A Pocket Full of Posie

After Christmas, we had the delightful opportunity of celebrating my parents’ 50th anniversary. My brother and sister and their families came out to Washington, and we all spent the week after Christmas getting ready for the big day. Now, six weeks later, I miss having them around.

My favorite sister, Posie

My parents were married twice and never divorced, and so they have two anniversary dates, the 12th of December and the 13th of January (or possibly the other way around). Because of college schedules, etc., we put the 50th anniversary celebration on the 29th of December, which is nearly the midpoint between the two dates.

There was a good crowd; I estimate that between eighty and ninety people were in attendance. But the best part was having my brother and sister and their families around for a good, long visit.

My sister's family and a few extras

Since my sister lives in Georgia, we don’t see her very often. I don’t know her children as well as I would like — it was great to have a chance to be with them and watch them in action.

To host such a big party, there were a lot of details, and lots of work to do. It was very fun to share that work around, between six grown-ups and eleven kids (with Grandma and Grandpa pitching in as necessary). We played games, watched movies, told stories, cooked, ate, and prepared for the party. I can’t think of a better way to spend a Christmas vacation.

In retrospect, we should probably have paced ourselves, using up only one of the 50th anniversaries, instead of recklessly spending them both. I wonder what excuse we can use next year, to get everyone to assemble again?

Tim

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Christmas Peas

They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, but some pictures raise a thousand questions.

This is hardly unusual when my son Joshua, and his crafty cousin Rebecca, are involved.

Co-conspirators

Let’s just say that there was a prank involved, and Grandma was the victim. Or was she?

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Sioux Perdad

One of the fun things that Kathy does in her work with the Mentorship program for the women of our church, is to participate in skits. Trying to make the whole mentor/mentee relationship less scary, these dramatic sketches portray problematic mentors in a humorous light.

One of the characters is a wife and mother on-the-go, who is able to do everything and be everywhere. She schedules her meetings with her mentee to coincide with a child’s soccer game. “Bring your own chair so you can sit with me on the sidelines,” she tells the woman, that she plans to mentor. “I may have to step away for a few moments during the game — the coach really needs my advice.”

I may not have it exactly right (men are traditionally banned from these ‘Mentor Moments’, so I have never actually seen the skit) but that is the essence of the character, I think. Her name is Sue Permom.

Kathy has been away for the past week, helping to care for her Dad at the Mayo Clinic (who has been diagnosed with a rare and aggressive form of lymphoma). Although my boss graciously allowed me to work from home this whole week, we were quickly ‘going under’ in terms of dishes and laundry, not to mention homeschooling. Kathy’s friends have been bombarding us with princely meals, but I still wasn’t able to keep on top of the household, so I took yesterday off from work.

At the end of the day, I was beat. I’d filled the dishwasher twice, and had done at least 438 loads of laundry (or maybe 439 — it is possible I lost count). I established my new draconian policy of throwing all clothes that came out of the dryer on the couch in the living room, with dire threats:

“If your clothes are still here in 12 hours, I’m sending them to the Goodwill!”

About 9 pm, just as I settled in to take a well-deserved rest, playing my computer game, little Sarah piped up:

“What about our Valentine’s Day box?”

I groaned. Each year, Valentine’s Day (or the Friday nearest that holiday) is a big deal at our local homeschool co-op. Each family decorates a box (some of them are pretty elaborate, the show-offs) and they make Valentines for each other, usually with a little piece of candy. I constructed a quick mental checklist:

  • Valentine’s Box — nope
  • Valentines — nope
  • Candy — nope

“Quick,” I told Sarah. “Go get that shoebox on my windowsill, and cover it in paper from that roll of butcher paper in the garage. Then you can decorate it.”

Valentine Box
“Granddad, will you be our Valentine?”

Sarah loves to decorate. After I helped her wrap the box and cut a slot in it (all the kids were concerned that the slot must be large enough to accommodate candy), she stenciled our name on it and decorated it with little pink hearts. Then I found a Valentine template in MS Word and printed out a customized valentine (squandering all of Kathy’s red printer ink). The kids formed a folding party and signed the valentines, some 50+ of them. In the morning, I went to the store and bought some candy, so that each valentine can be properly accompanied by a tasty treat.

As they were leaving for co-op, I ran downstairs.

“Stop, wait!” I shouted. “Did you remember the Valentine Box? The Valentines?”

No, they hadn’t remembered any of it. Typical of our family, I’m afraid. But as for me, at least for today, I am Sioux Perdad.

Tim

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February’s Fantastic

I miss blogging. I miss connecting with other bloggy friends. I miss selecting pictures, tweaking them with Photoshop and then crafting my words for a meaningful/witty/random blog. Facebook is so quick and busy and full of life, it’s easy to forget the joy of blogging. Texting is instantaneous and immediate, there doesn’t seem room for the slower work of blogging.

Washing the car

David and Sarah spent some time last week washing the new van.

Life is so full and rich these days, I’m overwhelmed by the many details, activities, and challenges. Tim and I are continually striving to grow in our marriage and be wise in our parenting. The responsibilities of running a busy household and homeschooling five children keep me humble and on my knees.

Matchy matchy

Sarah and I got matching aprons for Valentine’s Day.

I find myself struggling to balance the various disciplines – spiritual, physical, mental, etc. When I excel in one area, I fail in another. It is interesting, this life here on earth. We long for perfection, rest and joy, but instead are mired in imperfection, unease, and worry.

Praise God for His Word and the promise that His mercies are new every morning.

Two of my 5 readers

Books and board games are favorite gifts (to give and receive) in our house.

We had a fun Valentine’s Day. Tim and I love to celebrate as a family and cherish the big and small moments with the children. This year we ended up with some extra Christmas gifts (still working on the whole Christmas/budget concept) and set them aside for Valentine’s Day. We held a family party on the 7th. The blessing (reward?) of working so hard on parenting (and it is HARD WORK) is actually enjoying your children. We truly love to be with our five kids. They are fun, generous, kind, silly, caring and worth every bit of the diligence, effort and attention.

birthday presents!

Daniel and Joshua gave David Nerf Swords for his birthday.

David’s birthday was this week. How in the world did my sweet, little boy come to be nine years old?? My goodness, he and Sarah are no longer babies. Can I still call them the “Little Ones?” At least for a little while longer?

birthday desserts

Vanilla cake and ice cream sandwich dessert. Yum!

David constantly touches my heart – his reflections on life are unique and precious. We have a tradition of decorating the house in honor of the birthday child. All decorating happens in the wee hours in the night so the birthday boy or girl wakes up to a celebration. This past year the older children have taken on some of the work themselves and surprised me with their creative help.

The night before his birthday (Tim and I had just returned home from a long weekend in Leavenworth and the children from the Duckabush), David came up to me and quietly asked, “Would it be rude to ask for birthday decorations? I was just wondering.” Ha! I shhhhhed him and said, “Absolutely, no talk of decorations! Don’t even mention it.”

As the years have passed, I’ve often wondered if the children still care about those silly streamers, balloons and birthday signs. The older ones, in particular, might be too “grown up” and “mature” for such trivial things. It’s certainly no longer a dramatic surprise – it’s a tradition. Ahhhh, but here was a little boy who was still hoping for the wonder of a birthday celebration. How could I resist?

Throughout the days following his birthday, David repeatedly thanked me for the decorations – not the gifts, cake, family outing to the zoo, the decorations. “I just love those birthday decorations, Mommy, it’s why I keep saying thank you. I love to stand and look at them.”

Happy Birthday - 9 year old!

A creative use of birthday plates.

Interesting how a thankful heart brings such delight and joy in response. I can’t help but think how the Lord wants me to be thankful, to thank Him for His wonders, His gifts, His goodness. Does my thankful heart please Him in the same way that David’s cheerful attitude blesses me?

who's ready for a slice?

Rachel helped with the birthday cake decorating.

It makes me want to sneak into David’s room, on a random Thursday in the middle of a random month, and hang up signs and streamers.

Maybe I will.

Kathy

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Speaking Debut

Many people don’t know that my wife is a famous, internationally-acclaimed women’s speaker. This is mostly because she has not, as yet, actually been asked to speak in any other countries. Nevertheless, I expect the invitations to start rolling in, any day now.

Each year our church hosts a Christmas Luncheon for women — a lavish, decorative affair in which women of the church vie with one another to host and decorate the most beautiful holiday table. Fine china is dusted off, elaborate centerpieces are constructed, and more than 250 women flock to our church for this bright spectacle. After the meal and traditional singing of Christmas carols, there is usually a speaker who attempts to inspire the women of our church and their guests with a scriptural message. This year, the Women’s Ministries director asked my wife to be the speaker.

While we were putting away the last of the tables, after everyone had gone home, Becky came up to me. “I am so glad that God used me to ask Kathy to speak,” the Women’s Ministries leader confided gleefully.

I had to agree — Kathy presented her ‘talk’, as she called it, with confidence and clarity, using Romans 12:12 as the core of her message:

Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction and faithful in prayer.

Flowers for my girl

Kathy’s parents sent her these beautiful flowers.

My thoughts drift back to that weekend in early October when Kathy ‘got the call’ as we were driving to attend a leadership retreat. Immediately, she asked me my opinion:

“Should I do it? It seems very scary. What if I can’t connect with the women?”

At first, Kathy had many doubts about speaking publicly. Even after we prayed about it for several days, and she had agreed to serve as the speaker, questions continued to bubble up:

  • What passage will I speak on?
  • What if my hands shake and my voice quavers too much?
  • Why would any of these ladies want to listen to me?
  • What if this is not a calling from God, but only my own desire to be heard?
  • What will I wear?

Admittedly, the last question was perhaps the most difficult for me, as a man, to address.

I valiantly made an attempt. “What did you wear last year?”

Men and women don’t always think the same way, I’ve noticed.

Kathy is a busy person; homeschooling five children, running our household, trying to keep enough food in the house to feed ravenous boys — all these seem to fill her hours. Add in an aggressive prayer and Bible-reading schedule and a discipling relationship, and there isn’t a lot of extra time in the day. Still, she dove in and began studying and preparing her message. We gathered commitments from some of the prayer warriors in our church, to pray regularly for the event. It wasn’t long before Kathy had a passage of scripture that was coming alive to her in a new way. Eventually, she developed the entire message, complete with funny personal anecdotes and effective visual props. She wrote it out, first as an outline, and later filled in all the details.

“How do pastors come up with a new sermon every week,” she asked me one day, shaking her head.

3 boxes for the holidays

These three boxes were part of the talk – a spiritual makeover.

I was impressed by her passion and energy. I am currently taking a hiatus from teaching my Adult Sunday School class, largely because those two qualities were missing in my teaching. One week she managed to connect with the speaker from the fall Women’s Retreat, whom she felt did an incredible job of challenging and encouraging the ladies of our church. Kathy drove an hour, and spent the better part of an evening with her; praying, sharing and studying. The week before the event, she began rehearsing in our bedroom, using a CD rack as a podium, and a full-length mirror to hone her eye contact skills.

We continued to pray. We remembered these verses in Matthew 10:18-20:

On my account you will be brought before governors and kings as witnesses to them and to the Gentiles. But when they arrest you, do not worry about what to say or how to say it. At that time you will be given what to say, for it will not be you speaking, but the Spirit of your Father speaking through you.

Although she wasn’t arrested, we still thought the verse would apply. If God wanted Kathy to speak, then God would give her something to say, and would, Himself, cause those words to be effective.

Joshua and Daniel and I had the privilege of serving as waiters for the event, and so (after we bolted down our meal in the kitchen) we were able to watch and listen as Kathy spoke. I was praying furiously, yet somehow still able to listen as she unfolded her ideas and connected with the audience.

It was a great message — simple, practical, spiritual, transparent and personal. The ladies laughed at her jokes and seemed attentive — many of them came up to me afterward and complimented me (presumably because I had the clever foresight to marry Kathy). I am very proud, but even more, I’m delighted to see Jesus glorified and for the gospel to be promoted.

Hope box

Some things in Kathy’s Hope Box – before the makeover.

When we arrived home, Kathy and I went upstairs and snuggled in our bed to talk about the day. Eventually she wound down, and we assembled the kids to do our daily ‘chapter’ Bible reading, currently with an Advent twist.

“How ’bout milkshakes and a Christmas movie,” I shouted. “Who’s with me?” There was a rush of feet for the door. Life goes on, even when you’re a family of an internationally-acclaimed women’s speaker.

Tim

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