Beyond Bringing Up Boys

Teaching the boys is a responsibility that I take seriously. And as we approach the halfway point of this school year, I have felt tense. Am I doing enough? How will I know for sure? This morning, the boys and I were discussing the Christmas story as Seth sat listening beside us. Zachary and Samuel were demonstrating how the angels might have exclaimed, "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men." Not to be outdone, Seth said it perfectly . So tonight at dinner, with the principal (i.e. hubby) present, I reminded Seth to "tell daddy what the angels told the shepherds." His eyes twinkled mischievously as he responded, "HO.HO.HO" and jumped from his seat to parrot a perfect dancing Santa . Oh, yeah, I was proud!

A delicate caress along the bridge of a newborn nose, a gentle wipe across a face streaming with tears, a tender touch along a forehead raging with fever…the beauty of the human hand…the power of a touch. 2 months ago, Josiah Seth broke his femur. Many hands reached out to give comfort and aid to Seth (and to a distraught mommy). Visible hands. But the visible hands alone were limited. For physical healing to begin, Seth needed to be put into the care of unseen hands. He was taken to the operating room where a surgeon aligned the femur and, with the assistance of other doctors and staff, applied a cast to hold the properly aligned bone in place. With pain, I recall the uncertainty I felt as I stood, relinquishing to unseen hands my feeble attempts at comfort. In the weeks that have followed, I’ve thought a lot about unseen hands, specifically as they relate to the Christian journey. "Fear thou not for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God; I will strengthen thee; yea, ...

Glenda with 2 of her 3 siblings taken at the Balty's 50th wedding Anniversary celebration in April 2007 The second daughter of a Kansas farming family, Glenda was born on November 30, 1933. Her mother was concerned that Glenda would be born before her daddy would get home from hunting. Glenda Rae Garton arrived safely and had her first bath (as did all her siblings) on the table at which I school my boys each day. Grandma Garton used to say that if that table could talk, it would say, “waah, waah, waah!” I thoroughly enjoyed perusing through her childhood pictures while I was in Illinois this summer. She had fair skin and big, blue eyes and a smile framed by dimples. She appeared to be always smiling in the pictures, seemingly unaware of how poor her family was. A wonderful tribute to her parents, I think, and maybe in part because living on a farm provided an ample supply of healthy foods. I watched her come alive with excitement and exuberantly tell about her school days at Milto...