Light in Darkness

I stopped in the lobby to get a coffee at Starbucks. Around me, nurses in scrubs grabbed their to-go orders. Bright Christmas music played over the speakers, and a tree glittered in the corner. As I walked the long tan hall, with that antiseptic scent that hovers in hospitals, I heard beeps of monitors from open doors, and I wondered about the stories of those I passed. 

In the elevator I met the eyes of an older gentleman. "How is your day?" he asked with a smile. 

"Better than yesterday," I replied. 

He nodded. "Yeah, me too. Any improvement is the right direction." He exited onto the third floor, and the doors closed. I assumed he was visiting his wife. I wondered if they would be home by Christmas.

Between Thanksgiving and the middle of January, I walked that same hall, going up that same elevator, many times to visit my dad. It wasn't the way I had expected to spend December, but it was an honor to share that time with my parents. 

Photo from Pixabay

Many mornings I left my house in the dark, driving east on the interstate, watching the Crayola rays of the sunrise. Hours later, I traveled the same road, this time heading west into the coral and copper glow. 

Since I was a child, I always thought of heaven when I saw a sunrise or sunset. It seemed that glory was just behind the clouds, straining to peep through. 

I didn't have the excitement that I usually experienced at the beginning of the new year. I love looking back over the past year and gazing forward at the new one. Ed and I always enjoyed making some goals for the new year - a habit I've continued. I try to be realistic when goal setting and revisit the list throughout the year. 

But this year, I was just tired. A friend suggested that maybe memories of past hospital visits, with the sights, sounds, and smells, had worn me down more than I realized. 

In December of 2018, I spent a lot of time at the hospital for Ed's doctor appointments - though at a different hospital in a different state than the one I visited this December. The cancer in Ed's brain was slowly overtaking him. I remember the contrast of walking into the medical center lobby with Christmas music playing and sparkling decorations swinging from the banisters while my spirits hung low. We tried to enjoy our time together, and Ed often stopped to buy a coffee in the lobby for the ride home. One afternoon we took some time to examine the gingerhouse displays showcasting the creative talents of the various nursing deparments - a contrast to dire brain MRIs.

That year I filled our December with as much family time as possible, knowing that it was likely our last as a complete family. I was struck by how many of our Christmas carols look with longing to a world when Christ will come back and make all things right. 

"For lo, the days are hast’ning on,/ By prophet bards foretold,/ When with the ever circling years/ Shall come the time foretold,/ When the new heav’n and earth shall own/ The Prince of Peace their king,/ And the whole world send back the song/ Which now the angels sing." - Edmund H. Sears

Jesus didn't come to a world that was bright and happy, with cheery music, sparkly lights, and peppermint lattes. He came for the sick awaiting blood draws and CT scans. He came to an occupied country, with an evil ruler who would stoop to infant massacre to keep his power. Jesus came to world of slavery, predjudice, hopelessness, where even many of the spiritual leaders had lost their way. He came to world that was suffering disease and heartache from thousands of years of the curse of sin.

A world much like the one in which I live today. 

Many mornings I began my day by checking my phone for updates from my sister who lived halfway around the world and was watching war creep closer to her home. I saw her photos of thousands of refugees in camps and grieved.

I was sitting in my dad's quiet hospital room when I received the startling call that a friend had been killed in a vehicle accident. I was crushed with the knowledge that his children were now fatherless, his wife a widow, and our church again faced the senseless loss of a good man.

Photo from Pixabay

That night I walked through the Christmas-decked lobby and shivered through the bitter cold to find my car in the parking garage. I drove out onto the interstate for the ride home and again the setting sun painted the sky with the indescrible beauty of fuchsia, magenta, and maroon until darkness descended again.

Life can be dark. Death and sickness, betrayal and pain are real. I know many of you have faced hard things these past months.

I don't want to share a pat cliche, but I believe it is true. Jesus came to earth to enter our broken human existence with all of its pain and tears. It is in Him that we can find life abundant despite the darkness.

I've spent January holding onto the slow and the quiet. Reading the book of John quietly in the early morning. Putting together a puzzle by the fire with my daughter. Deciding not to make any goals for 2026 until February 1 this year. (Because I do like goal setting, but there is no magic in January 1.) My dad is home by now and recovering well.

I keep watching for brilliant sunrises and sunsets and the reminder that heaven is just beyond view. But God is even closer, right here, in hospitals and homes, along highways and by headstones, in refugee camps and homeless shelters. 

Emmanuel, God with us. The Light of the world.

Would I Be a Hero?

When I was a child, I loved historical fiction. I soaked in adventures of slaves fleeing evil masters, helped by kind people on the Underground Railroad and stories of smuggling food to Jews who were fleeing Nazi soldiers. I imagined myself as a bold, daring rescuer, willing to risk my life to help others. 

In the last several years I've read several books by adults struggling to find out details of their past and their parents and grandparent's roles in history. In Belonging: A German Reckons with History and Home, Nora Krug searches for evidence of what her grandfather was doing during the years leading up to World War 2 in Germany. Where was he when the local synagogue was burned and their Jewish neighbors hauled away in train cars? Did he try to help? Or was he part of the Nazi mob?

Today, with social media, where opinions and beliefs are freely shared and recorded for all to see, it can be hard to imagine the silence of that time, especially with destroyed records and tight-lipped grandparents.  Nora struggled with a deep sense of shame for her German heritage, though she had been born years after the Holocaust.

I recently read Soul Survivor by Philip Yancy, which records his struggle to recover from his upbringing in a white Atlanta church where he heard blatantly racist sermons and the deacons patrolled the church doors to make sure no blacks entered. Yancy faced the truth that the blacks in his hometown, with his same last name, had once been owned by his great-grandfather before the Civil War.

I remember looking at the photos of the first black students to integrate into all-white schools in the south and shuddering at the hate in the white faces. I wondered what it would be like to see that photo and recognize the face of my mother or grandmother.

I'll admit to feeling rather smug. My ancestors have been peace-loving, hard-working Anabaptists in Pennsylvania for over ten generations. They weren't slave owners or Nazi supporters, nor did they throw tomatoes at little black girls walking to school. 

Somehow I assumed that if I had been living in the mid-1800s, I'd been part of the Underground Railroad, giving a ride and food to weary slaves. Or if I'd been in Germany in the 1930s, I'd have sheltered Jews despite the risk, just like heroes such as Corrie ten Boom.

But what makes me think I'd have been in that small minority who fought against the norms of their culture? I tried to do a bit of research, but the numbers were rather elusive. In Poland, the European country that had the largest population of Jews before World War 2, it is estimated that three million of Jews died, about 90% of the Jewish population. Many Polish people did help the Jews, and about 1,000 Poles were killed for their role in rescuing Jews. But the number of people who helped the Jews is very small, maybe one or two percent of the Polish population. If I had lived in Poland during that time, chances are great that I'd have been among the average, the 98%, who either didn't help or worse, actively hurt the Jews.

We all want to be considered above average, and the historical fiction books didn't help my view of the times. But most of us will be average; that is reality. We can't possibily all be in the one percent.

My ancestors lived just north of the Mason-Dixon line during the Civil War. The stone house that I grew up in was old enough that it would have seen General Jeb Stuart's cavalry travel up the Mercersburg Road to round up horses for the Confederate army. Family stories tell of hiding horses and blankets by the creek from General Stuart's raiders. 

But there are no family stories about hiding slaves. With their location so near to the Potomac River, surely there were slaves traveling through the area. There is at least one house, a few miles away, that is said to be a stop on the Underground Railroad, but what role did my great-great-great grandparents play? Did they never happen to be at the right place to lend assistance? Were they unaware of the needs of those across the border, and instead focused on the daily work on their farms? Were they unwilling to help slaves, not wanting to get on the wrong side of the law? Or were they so humble that their roles in helping others were never spoken of or recorded for future generations? I'll never know.

As I muddled through these thoughts, I realized that no matter where and when I lived I would most likely been average, and not the heroic rescuer of my childhood dreams. And I need to repent of my pride that my ancestors were not evil slave masters or Nazi camp guards.

So what does it mean for me today? Though I claim to want to serve others, I usually choose modes of service that are convenient, comfortable, and personally fulfilling. I pat myself on the back when I help with the prison Bible study, but then go back to my comfortable home with no risk until my next scheduled evening. I enjoy helping with a children's Bible club, because the children are cute and sweet, even when they are a bit dirty, but I wish to ignore the adults in those same households, with their addictions, poor choices, and chronic health conditions. I'm am not the material of which heroes are made, not when I lack the patience for even long rambling conversations with mentally-unstable people.

I look in awe at friends who jump fully into serving others - loving a foster baby and her parents, walking with a neighbor bound by addictions, choosing to be family to a new immigrant. I admire those who form long-term relationships with broken people and selflessly give beyond convenience.

At one time I read stories and gloated about who I would be if I had just been born in another era. Now I see my own heart and know that without the power of God, I am a miserably selfish person. But I'm certain that Corrie ten Boom didn't view herself as heroic nor did she seek adventure, but she simply loved her neighbors because God gave her His love.

I have a choice to love, a choice to surrender, and choice to put others before myself. And those choices make us a true hero, even if our story is never told in a book.

This post containes affiliate links.

New Book! Every Girl's Journey

It is always fun to share a big project with a friend who has a similiar goal. Whether it is planning a wedding, anticipating a new baby, or working on a home improvement project, we bond with friends who are facing similiar joys and challenges. 

My friend Regina Rosenberry began her book writing journey about ten years ago, just like me.
Both our book journeys had numerous setbacks over the years. Sometimes we set aside our projects for months, or even longer. Sometimes we thought that the book project had completely died, but somehow it always resurrected. We sent each other chapters as we finished them, celebrated small milestones, and groaned together over delays. We never dreamed that we would both be holding the first copies of our books within weeks of each other. I'm delighted to share this journey with her and introduce Regina's book, Every Girl's Journey to you.

Regina caught the vision for her book when she searched for resources to share the facts of growing up with her pre-teen daughter and didn't like the options she found at her local library. She wanted a book that would celebrate the beauty of God's creation of the female body with practical tips and godly wisdom. So she combined her love of nutrition and care for our bodies with her passion for encouraging young women in the Lord into a lovely book to share with her daughters. 

This book is beautiful! Regina and Hannah Lehigh combined their talents to design water-color paintings which give this book a feminine charm. 

But it more than just pretty pages. Regina delves into all sorts of topics from acne to friendships. She even tackles some hard topics like eating disorders and abuse with tact and kindness. I love her motherly tone that is both matter-fact and warm. I think girls will love her stories where she bravely shares some of her embarrassing moments, showing that she is real and faced these changes in life as well. She even includes a few recipes.

As a mom of four daughters, I'm grateful for resources like these. I suggest that you read the book first and decide what age your daughter is ready for this material. Every girl is different and only you know when it a good age. You may want to share the first chapters with your daughter, but wait until she is a bit older for some of the later chapters.

You can get your own copy of Every Girl's Journey at Christian Light. If you are a local, you can buy one directly from Regina. 

Also, if you hurry, you can enter a giveaway by our friend Nola and maybe win a copy of my book, Regina's book, or our friend Geneva's book. But it ends tomorrow (Wednesday). If you sign up for the giveaway, sign up to get Nola's emails as well because she is an excellent writer that I hope will someday have her own book.

And if you are the Lancaster area, Regina and I are doing a book signing on Friday. We'd love to see you. 

And on another note...my sister Charity makes beautiful, hand-sewn, genuine leather journal and has a supply available in various sizes for Christmas gifts. Message me if you want more info.

Sisters' Summer/Fall Bookshelf

I've always loved to read, but this year I've enjoyed reading even more and completed more books than usual. And I'm not sure why.

Since life was extra busy this year, my sister Charity and I decided not to do any Sisters' Reading Challenges as we have for the last four years. I worried that I might read less, but somehow I have read more. And I've read more books that I loved.

I'm not sure what to credit for the extra reading. The last months have been crazy busy, but being busy obviously doesn't curtail reading at my house. Maybe it is because I was given several giftcards to bookstores, and I bought books I was excited about reading. Maybe I'm doing better at picking books that I will enjoy. Maybe I've just been in the right mental state to love reading. Whatever the cause, it has been so much fun. 

I asked Charity to share a few of the books she enjoyed reading the last few months, and I chose a couple books from my stack. It is fun to see the variety of styles in these few books. Biography, food memoir, nonfiction, classic novel, and even a graphic novel!

And please remember, this isn't a comparison game. Charity and I prioritize reading and consume more than the average number of books. We love helping others find good books, and we love talking about books. But if you read only a few books compared to our stacks, that is fine! There can be good reasons to read slowly and deeply. 

But I do encourage you to consider putting down your phone (after you read this!), and pick up a book. I know that the phone is my biggest deterrent in reading books. I rarely regret reading a book; I often regret the wasted time spent on my phone. 

Here are some of our favorite books read the last few months.

This post contains affiliate links.

Charity - 

Faithful Spy: Dietrich Bonhoeffer and the Plot to Kill Hitler by John Hendrix

I stepped out of my usual genre by reading a graphic novel. It deserves the highest rating on my book list! Hendrix combines his incredible artistic ability with a truly fascinating story. The book is a combination of a typical graphic novel style with parts that are normal prose. Throughout the book Hendrix contrasts the life of Hitler with Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the pastor spy. The author captures this difficult time in history in a way that is easy to understand but shows the internal struggle of a man who wanted to rescue his beloved Germany and also follow God. The life of this controversial man will have you wanting to read the next page.  I also loved the book by the same author/illustrator, about C.S.Lewis and J.R.R.Tolkien, entitled The Mythmakers. 

The Everlasting Meal: Cooking with Economy and Grace by Tamar Adler

It's rare that I read a cookbook from cover to cover. I love a cookbook as much as most women but one without pictures isn't usually a page turner. But this food memoir is more of a philosophy of cooking, a way of life. I couldn't put it down. Who knew reading about how to properly cook a pot of beans could make my mouth water and seriously consider if I should give up buying canned beans for the rest of my life. I enjoyed her stories of food mixed in with recipes, tips, and a way of cooking that is wholesome and so much more than the mindless filling of mouths. I think I'll read it again the next time preparing food starts to feel like just another chore. 

The Age of Innocence by Edith Wharton

Set during the Gilded Age in New York City, in this classic novel,Wharton transports her readers back in time to a place and time she knew as a child. The author belonged to the wealthy society of New York City residents which means the world she is writing about is one she knew intimately. Newland Archer's world is turned upside down when his fiance's cousin arrives from Europe. Ellen is fascinating, straightforward, European, and fleeing an abusive husband. A lot of questions about society, marriage, and manners are suddenly called into question in Archer's life. The Literary Life Podcast was invaluable in helping me understand the story's time period, interpret the various references throughout, and know how to correctly read the story.  If you don't get a chance to listen to the podcast just remember to read it as a parable of American culture and less of a love triangle. 

Gina -

Being Elisabeth Elliot by Ellen Vaughn

This is the second in a two volume biography on Elisabeth Elliot. Being Elisabeth Elliot covers the years from when she returned to the United States from Equador until her death. The author used 
Elisabeth's diaries and letters to write a well-rounded account of her life. I related to her experiences as a widow and was impressed by how much joy and delight she found in life as she raised her daughter. But then after her second husband's death, it was painful to read that her intense loneliness led her to terrible choices in her marriage to her third husband. Elliot's ministry was very influential on my life, especially when I was a youth and I was able to meet her in person several times. It was both inspiring and sad to read of the behind-the-scenes trials in her life. I now understand better why Elisabeth could write with such power about suffering and loneliness. This book is both a reminder to not put people on a pedestal but also that God can use imperfect people and redeem hard situations.

From Hollow to Hope by Sarah Weaver and Hannah Martin

I had seen this book, but didn't think it applied to me since it recounts the author's battle with a severe eating disorder. But this summer I met the authors and realized that their book was about so much more than eating disorders. Sarah (a pen name) shares her story about how God brought freedom from bondage in her life. In every chapter, her mentor, "Hannah," addresses topics relating to freedom and gives tools for things such as overcoming perfectionism and finding our identity in Christ. I have shared this book with women of all ages and each one has told me how meaningful this book was to them personally. I highly recommend it for all women.

Rembrandt Is in the Wind: Learning to Love Art Through the Eyes of Faith by Russ Ramsey 

I'm not sure how to categorize this book. Is it a art history? Bible study? Devotional book? Ramsey is a pastor, a storyteller, and a lover of art, and he skillfully combines stories of great painters with Scripture and personal application. Whether he is writing about grief, race, loneliness, or the importance of belonging, Ramsey contrasts the brokeness of this world with the hope of redemption. Often I'm disappointed by sequels, but Ramsey's second book, Van Gogh Has a Broken Heart may have been even better as he delves into the toipc of suffering. I loved these books, but assume there are only a few people who would pick up a book on art history and risk being attacked by a strong desire to visit an art museum. 

I'd love hear what books you loved recently. Maybe I can start a list of books to read this winter.

On another note...my friend Regina Rosenberry just published a book! It has been so much fun to be in this book journey with her.  I'll be sharing a full book review later, but for now I wanted to let you know that we are doing a book signing together. If you are in the Lancaster County area, come to Ken's Educational Joys on Friday, November 21 from 11-2! and say "Hi."

You can alsi find Regina's book and my book online.

Q&A - She Shall Be Praised

A few days ago, I went to Holmes County, Ohio with my younger girls. We had a fun girls trip with lots of thrift stores and fabric shops. 

But one of the main purposes of the trip was to pick up my book order at the publisher. It has been such fun to share She Shall Be Praised with friends and family. 

I've loved hearing from some of you who have ordered the book or bought it at your local store. Thanks for sharing your photos! 

Several of you have asked questions, and so I thought I'd do a Q&A.

Who is the target audience for this book?

I wrote this book for myself and my own wrestling with questions such as, "Who is the Proverbs 31 woman? Is this a checklist that I should complete? What about the days (weeks, months, years) that I fail and can't measure up to this ideal woman? 

So I suppose the target audience for this book is the person who has asked similiar questions. Maybe a woman who has felt intimidated by Proverbs 31, even a bit ashamed at her inadequacy. If you love Proverbs 31, hate Proverbs 31, or know nothing about Proverbs 31, you will probably learn something.

Is this a book for moms or would a single woman enjoy it?

I'm a mom, so I write from my viewpoint as a mom. When I began writing this book, I was a also wife, but became a widow halfway through writing it. I began to look at Proverbs 31 a bit differently as a widow, not only because I no longer had a husband, but because I felt far more needy than when I began the book. I have had to be on the receiving end instead of the one serving, which made me doubt my whole identity.

As a widow, I've sat through sermons on marriage or family and wondered why I was there. It was important to me that those who are unmarried or childless would not feel alienated when reading this book, so I had a single friend read through the manuscript to point out places I should change. Hopefully women of any age and season of life can gain something from it.

Is this a devotional book?

That is probably a good description. I purposely kept the chapters very short, only a couple pages, for busy women. Each chapter concludes with an additional Bible passage reference for further study and a few reflection questions. There are thirty chapters, so you could use it as a thirty-day study, though I didn't list it as days since I know how frustrating it is to miss a day and get behind and have to "catch up."

Would this book be appropriate for a women or girls' Bible study?

That probably depends on how your Bible study is organized. The chapters are very short, so if you planned to read one chapter and then discuss it, you may not have enough to fill a whole Bible study. But if you study the additional Bible passage, and use the reflection questions, it would likely work. Or you could do more than one chapter at a time. Some of the chapters include additional historical or cultural information.

Can I get a copy of the book in Canada? 

Living Waters bookstore in Ontario carries the book and should be able to ship to all parts of Canada (as long as the postal strike doesn't hinder delivery.) Living Waters also has an online store in New York, so US customers can also order from them online.

Can I order a signed copy from you?

Yes, I have several cases of books and would be glad to sign your copy. I would love if you'd stop in at my house and buy a copy or two. I give a discount for bulk orders. 

But I am not shipping books. I'd prefer if you supported your local bookstore. Call and ask if they carry the She Shall Be Praised. If they don't have one in stock, they will likely be glad to order one for you from the publisher, Carlisle Press. 

Or, if you don't have a local bookstore, you can order a copy directly from the publisher, Carlisle Press - Phone: 330-852-1900, Email: service.cpress@upwardmail.com Or online at Carlisle Press. They offer bulk discounts.

Do you have any other questions? You can read more of the history of how the book came about.

She Shall Be Praised - A new book announcement

 

In the fall of 2009, I was asked to give a short talk on Proverbs 31 at a lunch to honor the older ladies at our church. 

At the time I was a busy mother with four children ages five years to six months. We had just begun our first year of homeschooling and the week before the event, my father-in-law had unexpectedly died. 

Life was full. Most days I enjoyed the challenge of mothering and had big dreams for the future, but I often I failed to live up to my goals. 

I always enjoyed Proverbs 31 and the description of the Virtuous Woman. When I was a teen, I memorized the passage and looked at it as a checklist, a goal to reach toward. But by now, I saw my many failures as a wife and mom. 

As I studied Proverbs 31, I looked up the word "virtue" and found that this English word was only mentioned a few times in the KJV Bible, and it carried the meaning of "power." In Mark 5, a woman touches Jesus in the crowd and the KJV states that Jesus knew that "virtue" (power) had gone out of Him.

I recently found my notes from that talk back in 2009, where I had written, "As God's daughters, we can be virtuous, not through our own efforts, I've failed often enough to know that doesn't work, but because of Christ's power in us." I've thought of those words often through the years. I need God's power, because I can't conjure up the character of the Proverbs 31 woman on my own strength. 

In 2015, I decided to try writing an article for each verse in the Proverbs 31 passage about the virtuous woman. I didn't know how far I'd get, since I'm often better at starting projects than completing them. My goal was to choose a Biblical woman that connected to the Proverbs 31 verse and apply it to the New Testament and my life today. 

I wrote the first two articles and sent them to the Keepers at Home magazine, printed by Carlisle Press, a small Amish publisher in Ohio. The publisher called to say he'd like to print the articles in their magazine, and suggested they could print the completed series in a devotional book for women. 

The phone call came days after my sixth child was born, and I didn't know if I could write and keep up with normal life. I had no idea how crazy life would become. The next year, Ed was diagnosed with brain cancer, and he was gone two years later. But I kept reading and studying the verses from Proverbs 31 and Biblical characters, and the lives of women who faced danger, trials, and widowhood became even more meaningful. I'm grateful that I had a purposeful reason in those years to dig into these Biblical accounts. 

In 2021, I finally completed the series and the publisher repeated his suggestion that we compile the articles into a book. I spent the next several years editing the articles and writing additional chapters.

Ten years after I wrote the first words, I'm excited to announce that the book is being printed. The designer did an amazing job, turning it into a beautiful, full-color book. 

If you'd like a copy, and you live close to me, stop buy and pick one up.

You can order a copy directly from the publisher, Carlisle Press - Phone: 330-852-1900, Email: service.cpress@upwardmail.com or Online.

Or ask for the book at your local bookstore.

Here is a bit more info:

Title: She Shall Be Praised: Rediscovering the Proverbs 31 Woman

Full color photos and art on every page

Size: 8x8

168 pages

Retail Price: $18.99

How to Build a Habit of Rest - Part One

1. Choose a busy time of year. 

(Maybe August?)

2. Ignore your work and take some time to rest and worship. 

(Ideally for more than a day, because most of us will take at least 24 hours to relax our tight shoulders. In severe cases, it will take a week. And, yes, you will probably have to leave your house.) 

3. Repeat the next year. 

4. And repeat the year after, until it becomes a habit or routine. 

5. To reinforce the routine, include your little people. 

Many parents have found that if you do something two years in a row, the children will say, "Every summer, we always..." If the children love it, you won't be able to quit even if you want to. (Case in point, I've attended a womens' retreat in August several years, and loved it, but have struggled to make it a routine, because I don't have my childrens' reinforcement for that event.)

Okay...so these steps were written half in jest. But I'm partly serious. 

From the time I was an infant, my parents took me to the Brethren Camp Meetings held at a camp near our home every year. This event was nine days at the end of August to Labor Day each year and consisted of church services every evening and services all day on both Sundays. Family attendance was never debated, we were always there. 

As dairy farmers, I remember many days of rushing crazily in from the barn to get ready in time for camp meeting. With school often starting over that time, and garden produce to can, it was a frantically busy time of year, but I never remember missing camp meetings. Even in the year my sister was born during camp meeting week, a few of the family managed to attend.

When I married and left the Brethren church to join my husband's Mennonite church, Ed made it a priority to attend the Brethren Camp Meeting each year. We both enjoyed connecting with friends each summer. 

The year I was hugely pregnant with my second child, we considered not going, but I woke up Sunday morning and felt great, so we attended both the morning and evening service and enjoyed a campfire supper with friends. But I counted contractions during the last service and gave birth a few hours later, and had the fun of calling friends with the baby news and hearing "But we saw you just last night!"

I don't remember what year we started camping overnight on the second weekend of camp meeting, but I know that our oldest child was little. We rented one of the rustic cabins which was only a couple steps up from tenting, but at least had electricity and mattresses. Our children loved playing with their cousins, riding bikes, and playing on the water slide. Ed and I soaked in the messages and fellowshiped around the campfires. The children ran until exhausted, which allowed us to tuck them into bed and enjoy quiet conversation on the cabin porch. Camp meeting became a highlight for all of us.

But one year, as I packed food, bedding, towels, diapers, bikes, and clothes (so many, many clothes), I said, "I can't do this next year." I don't know how many children we had by that time, but I was exhausted. Camping anywhere takes a lot of packing, but combining camping with church services meant many more clothes and towels, and I couldn't keep doing it. But I also couldn't end the camp meeting tradition, so we compromised. 

We only lived twenty minutes away, so several days on camp meeting week, I'd pack up the children, bikes, bandaids, and lunch, and we'd spend the day at camp meeting. The children would ride bikes with their cousins and friends while I sat under a tree with the babies, doling out water, band aids, and lunch as needed. Then in the late afternoon, we'd go home, where the babies caught a short nap while everyone showered. Then Ed would come home from work, and we'd all head back to the evening service. It worked wonderfully and became our new camp meeting tradition. 

After Ed's death, I thought that now that the children were older, and I'd have help and didn't have to work around Ed's work schedule, maybe I'd try staying overnight at camp meeting again. Apparently someone heard our idea, because I was told that an anonymous person had offered to pay for a cabin for as much of the week as we wished to stay at camp meeting. And so began a new tradition. 

Each year since then, on Tuesday of camp meeting, we move into the cabin with a mountain of belongings. It feels a bit ridiculous to be this close to home and stay in such a rustic dwelling. When I'm packing, I feel like I've lost my mind, but now I have children old enough to help. 

Yes, we bring about every stitch of clothes we own. Yes, I move half my kitchen to camp including the toaster, coffee pot, Instapot, and slow cooker. Yes, as soon as I arrive I remember something I forgot (this year it was trash bags) even after writing meticulous lists. But when the children help unpack the van, throw their sleeping bag on their bunk, then jump on their bikes, and I split some kindling, light the first campfire, settle into my lawn chair underneath the immense oak trees, and exhale - then I know the work is worthwhile. 

This year was our fifth year spending almost a week at camp meeting. Life looks different than five years ago. Now my older children aren't riding bikes with their cousins. They are getting up early and going to work, then dashing to the shower house before joining us for supper. 

But I still have a few children in the bike gang, and we've learned routines over the years that make life at camp simpler. We often invite family and friends to join us for meals and walk to the church service smelling of campfire smoke. Most days I go home to feed our pets, do a load of laundry, and pick up whatever we may have forgotten. Each day I enjoy walks with other moms, daily Bible studies, and long talks on cabin front porches. I soak in sunrise views from the porch while contemplating last night's convicting message. For a few days, I forget about the tomatoes in my garden or the pears that I could be canning. 

We stay up far too late fellowshipping so come home with a sleep deficiency. As usual when camping, unpacking is worse than packing. The laundry heap is atrocious, with smoky church clothes and grass-stained jeans, but it is all worth it. And by year five, the tradition is so firmly grounded that I'd have a family mutiny if we didn't go to camp meeting. 

I've been thinking of this yearly tradition of rest and how life giving it has been to me - even though it contains some hard things. When thinking of the list from the beginning of this post, here are things I've learned.

1. Choose a busy time of year. 

(Rest doesn't wait for us to not be busy. It needs to be planned and fought for. Even on crazy August days.)

2. Ignore your work and take some time to rest and worship.

(For a mom with children, work will always be there, but the opportunity to spend time with your family may not.)

3. Repeat the next year. 

(There are seasons that you need to adapt or change your routines. So don't be stuck on doing it only one way. But also, don't give up striving for rest.)

4. And repeat the year after, until it becomes a habit or routine. 

(Building a habit isn't complicated. It just requires consistency. But consistency is hard when you are tired.)

5. To reinforce the routine, include your little people.

(Most of us need accountability, even to do the things we want or need to do.)

I know that some of you may not be able to spend several days at a camp meeting, and I hope this doesn't make you feel discontented. We all have different seasons and circumstances.

When thinking of building a habit of rest, I realized that camp meeting wasn't the only tradition of rest that my parents gave me. This post has become long enough, but I want to write about two more restful traditions - maybe ones more important than camp meeting, traditions I often under value. 

So I'll be back. In the meantime, I'd love to hear if you have fought to make a restful tradition during busy seasons. Do you eat a leisurely family breakfast the Saturday before school starts? Or set a "family game night" once a week in December? Are there ways that you prioritize worship and fellowship during busy seasons?

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