The Rise of “Convenience” and the Modern Woman

There is a BBC series that we all enjoy watching, centered around a farmhouse in England. There are several different editions of the series — Victorian Farmhouse, Edwardian Farmhouse, War Farmhouse…..basically a “Farmhouse” episode for every major historical time era. We watch them to learn how to better manage our homestead, learn a bit of history, and to glean from times past how the generations before us produced their sustenance from their own land with their own hands.

By now you are wondering what under the sun does “convenience” have to do with watching BBC productions???

A great deal, actually. We can probably all agree — at least those who are crazy enough to read this blog — that along with the rise of convenience came a whole host of sin problems that past generations didn’t have to deal with. Things that may have sounded nice in theory, but in actuality was quite, well….inconvenient.

We have watched all the Farmhouse episodes, and enjoyed them. But there was a stark difference between the Victorian period and the Edwardian period. The Victorian Farmhouse was the best, I think. The woman of the house was busy around the farm. She was busy overseeing the dairy products, the quality of dairy products, the garden produce. She was busy canning and preserving the food she produced, watching over her flock of sheep and pigs. She had cleaning to do, ironing to finish, meals to cook from scratch — food she and her family had grown and raised. She had the liberty of being free. Being free to do what God had made her to do — being a help-meet to her husband, fulfilling her divine calling by serving her family. She had the liberty and freedom to order her days however she wanted; however she needed to. It was a beautiful picture of love and contentment.

In the Edwardian Farmhouse, everything was different. The men were still out in the fields; they were still producing food from the land, but they no longer kept it for themselves, selling only the surplus. Now, they were trying to raise as much as thy could with as little labour as possible, selling it all to the market. The lady of the this particular house was too busy to mess with the trouble of canning it, she was too busy to trouble with her dairy delights, she was far too busy to be bothered with all the duties that she had delighted in just a few decades ago.

And she was too busy because of only one invention — the bicycle. It “freed” up the modern woman, allowing her greater “liberty” and “freedom” to go her own ways. Because of this, she was no longer around her home, working to preserve what the family had raised and farmed, working to preserve what had cost them essentially nothing. The cost of living went up. The men-folk were working double time, selling their produce since no one was around to care for it, and using the money to buy other things — things for the women who had “no time” for the little home duties, but plenty of time for gadding about on a bicycle. But the family still had to eat, and the women decided to do something about it. Now, instead of coming home and putting the bicycle aside, the women decided to put the bicycle to greater use — the contraption now gave them freedom to earn a living, provide food for the family, additional income for the household. Ironically, the bicycle invention gave this particular woman the liberty to clean another families chamber pots. To scour the waste and filth of a strangers home, leaving her own home to suffer neglect.

Think of it. This woman in her own home had the freedom a few years ago to go on a ramble in the woods, to pick berries, put up food, and be wise about the families needs. Now, she was stuck in another house, all day long, cleaning chamber pots. In her own home, she wouldn’t have had to clean those articles of necessity all day, every day. She would have had the freedom and liberty to order her days to make her little “mundane” tasks more enjoyable. In her own home the only person she had to “take orders from” would have been her husband. Now, she was taking orders from the master and mistress of the house. The bicycle became nothing more than a way to “liberate” the women to the position of a servant. In her own home she was still considered a mistress, a home manager, a wife and mother.

Can you see the irony of this? A simple invention. A bicycle.  A wonderful contraption that we still have around today, that we still ride and enjoy and bring places. When used properly, a blessing. But it quickly became a curse to the women of another era.

Do we have hindrances in our lives,  things that promised to bring freedom and liberty to us as a people? Under the guise of “convenience” we have let a lot of things slide under our radar, as it were, that we never would have agreed to or allowed before. It might be convenient to keep up with our family using social media (i.e. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, or the like), but is it worth the convenience if young people sneak out and leave homes for someone they have met online?

Cell phones are a wonderful convenience — a cell phone is an immense blessing, where having one to contact emergency personnel, say, in the case of your mother suddenly collapsing from a brain bleed, would be nice.  But they interrupt so much of our day. They ring at inconvenient times, they allow us to answer texts and emails immediately, they provide a distraction for long car rides. They have the ability to interrupt our quiet time before God. Now there is no accountability for young people’s interactions with each other. No central phone in a central part of the house where everyone (aka parents =}) could keep an ear on the phone conversation. Susie can talk to John all she wants, saying flirtatious things that both know they really shouldn’t be saying, because no one is there to keep them accountable, to correct them, to put a stop to it, because no one really knows.

And now our cell phones are “smart” — you can message people, check social media, and take pictures. All of which could get someone in trouble — indeed, all of which have gotten people in huge-mungo trouble. Trouble, and a myriad of sinful actions that just one generation ago people never had to struggle with — because it was non-existent. We have all sorts and types of devices that can access the internet, anytime, anywhere, and almost any place.

Are the lives and well-being of our families, children, siblings worth the convenience of having instant communication with everyone in the world? Can we be “inconvenienced” for the sake of others’ souls?

No, we may not be riding a bicycle to go scrub chamber pots, but do the distractions around us — the “modern conveniences” — take away time from our families? Can we have a conversation without being distracted, pulling out a phone, looking at a television, typing an email? Can we talk to someone without a bunch of “umm…” “uhhh….” “what was I saying?” Ohhhh, yeah…..wait…..ugghhh….”???

No, this post isn’t about reaming modern conveniences — not necessarily. I do see where a phone is a blessing. I do enjoy having the internet, being able to communicate with others, and keeping up with politics, new laws ect. But I also see a rising flood of families — well meaning families — who have not monitored online usage in the families. I see it, I see young people backsliding, running away, compromising on key values that were once important issues they would have fought for. I see young people seducing each other, flirting with each other over social media, internet sites, texts and phone calls. Teenage suicide rates are on the rise – due to social media and inappropriate interactions.

And I think of the bicycle. Have we allowed our pursuit of convenience — our desire to be known as “modern” instead of “old-fashioned” — our desire for pleasure and fulfillment — to become a stumbling block to our families?

A Fresh Start…..

Yes, this blog has been quiet of late….too quiet, I think. Especially for one who processes thoughts through writing and typing and seeing words written down on a page…but there is a reason, a very good reason….

My year ended with a bang — a really loud bang, a crash, and glass shattering. Yes, quite literally — a crock-pot broke in my hands while I washing it out. And then, I was in the emergency room for stitches to reattach my poor little finger to my hand. I was extremely thankful I did not fully cut it off, which I had at first thought. The blood, the pain, and seeing my finger hanging from my hand…..needless to say, I was very glad Dad was helping in the kitchen, was very quick with a towel, and provided a chair as I was having a mild panic attack and feeling slightly light-headed ;-) He was also the one who reassured me that my finger was still attached — although it was bad. This was on Christmas Eve, as we were all supposed to be gathering at my grandparents home.

It was my right little finger — as I type this, I still have the stitches in my hand, waiting to get them out, waiting to have a doctor assess possible nerve damage, waiting to be able to fully us this finger again. Waiting on muscles and nerves to strengthen and reattach and start working right, so I can type productively again. Play the piano and violin again. Wash dishes and fold laundry and sweep floors and make beds and a host of other things.

I think I would say that one thing the Lord will be teaching me this year is patience. And trust. And contentment.

In other news, I have written about the termite damage that my father and brothers and several sweet friends from our church fixed this year. In December, we fully finished all the kitchen repair! A kitchen counter was exciting — second only to a kitchen sink being installed! After washing dishes for a family of thirteen in the bathroom sink….well, you learn what a blessing a kitchen sink is. No more waiting on people to hurry up, no more running through the house with hands covered with eggs…meat….grease….or various sundry other things. And to prepare food for a family on a counter — oh, what a blessing we realize a working kitchen is! Everything back in cabinets, out of the other rooms of the house. No more running to the living room for flour, the sewing room for sugar, navigating the various kitchen appliances or holes in the floor.  I’ve written about it here: Little Drops of Water but I am pretty sure I haven’t posted any pictures for you to see. So….here are a lot of pictures. A lot of pictures. Keep in mind that some of these pictures I received while puppy sitting for my grandparents puppy, or while up at the hospital while my grandfather was recovering from quadruple bypass surgery. And imagine my surprise….

This is what our kitchen looked like before we totally destroyed it….kinda =) In this picture we — meaning Dad and the boys and a friend — had already taken out the tile to get a better idea of what the damage was. But this gives you a vague idea of cabinet placement…..


Step one: Tear up floor. We knew there was damage in this general area, but we had no idea…..

The floor beams have already been repaired….the cabinets removed….


Then Dad moved to one of the outside walls of the house. I don’t have pictures of the other one….a friend does =)

From the outside looking in….literally :D

From the inside looking out =P

What our living room looked like until the cabinets were re-installed in August. I think this picture was taken in May….and this was the second time to unload the cabinets….These are some of the pictures I was receiving at my grandparents, leaving me wondering what was going on…12


And here are other pictures, when I was surprised by seeing the stove on the wrong side of the kitchen…..10

And another hole in the floor. Apparently termites were running between the layers of the floor….They even made it all the way into the hallway.9


One of “those days” where there was a hole in the middle of the kitchen floor. Ever tried to get lunch around a hole in the floor? Well, it looks something like frantically running back and forth outside around the house, from the front door to the back door, getting supplies. Until the guys inside started handing things over the hole….since they were already there X)


Lunch break!!!

As the floor was torn up, it was discovered that the floor beams under the house had been eaten,  were rotten, and generally shaky and unsteady. So out they came!5


We had sweet friends and our pastor who came over to help with the last half of the floor. We were so incredibly thankful for the help! The laughter, hard work, and general fun that went along with the task of destroying the floor made it memorable…..


We girls spent the day staining the new wood floor, in preparation for everyone getting it down later.7



Even the littlest of the little ones were able to help with reconstruction work, learning a good work ethic as they went.


I don’t have pictures of the finished project yet….the hard drive for the computer went *kaput* a few weeks ago….ah, the challenges of life!

I have written about our bus woes in the past — suddenly the big yellow bus decided to start working again. Dad did something or other….I have NO idea what….but it is mostly reliable now. Mostly :D It still needs the occasional jump to work, but that is a step up (actually, several steps up) from not working at all. Or blowing smoke through vents. Or stopping and starting itself. Trust me when I say, it was getting embarrassing to be stuck at church so many times….or on the side of the road…..or at a gas station….=P

And now we are onto a new year. A new beginning, a new path, a new chapter in the book of life. What will happen? Only the Lord knows right now, and I am good with that. If I had known in the beginning of 2016 that within three weeks of each other my baby brother would be born, we would have no kitchen, and my grandfather would be in the hospital, I would have been lost, with the weight of the world falling on me. Coming on slowly, suddenly, it doesn’t seem like so much. Each time I questioned or wondered, I knew God had a plan. A perfect, wise, all-knowing plan, that He would reveal little by little as He saw fit.

I have been asked about plans for this new year of life the Lord has blessed me with. I really don’t have *plans* for the year. I know from experience that though man makes plans, God directs our footsteps. And He does it for His own glory. I do have goals, long term and short term ones.

I want to get my finger working to play instruments again.
I am continuing my work for Foundations of Reconstruction.
I want to become a full-fledged doula…sooner rather than later.
I need to learn how to drive, which means we need a smaller vehicle than a bus =)
I want to read more theology type books this year, specifically studying more into God’s character and attributes.
I’d like to finish my Names of God study with the children, and move on to another study.

I know I won’t finish all these. I know there are some things I have left out, there are some things I am praying about, and there are some things I don’t even know about yet. I am quite aware that some of these will not be accomplished this year, ’cause there are times when life just takes over. And I am okay with that.

So, now that I have “caught you up”, I am going to be working on catching up this blog that I have left neglected so long….as fast as this healing appendage of mine allows =) I was told typing and playing piano were good “therapy” type things to do. As long as I actually remember to use the finger….which is kinda painful =D One day, it will be back to normal… day….

Until then, I will exercise patience and trust and wait patiently on the Lord…..

And There Were Shepherds….

“That first Christmas night, shepherds saw a wondrous light.
An angel then appeared, telling them to have no fear —
For unto you this day, in a manger on the hay,
Is born the King of Kings, peace on earth He brings….”

It was a warm night that night, in the land of Bethlehem, in Judea. The men sat around, under the night sky, basking in the soft glow of the moon. Perhaps they looked at the stars, remembering the promise given to their father, Abraham, so many years ago — the promise that his descendants, themselves, would be as numerous as those stars. Those beautiful stars, shining forth so brightly in the dark sky. Remembering the faith of their father, praising Elohim for His creation.

Perhaps they talked to each other. Or maybe they just sat silently, rejoicing in the darkness of the night time to hide themselves from the world. Mulling over in their minds the importance of the task assigned to them by Elohim — ever vigilant, keeping an eye out for predators, they sat there, with all their senses alert, ready for whatever the night was hiding from their vision.

Suddenly, a light shone forth, disturbing the darkness of the night, disrupting the inky blackness. Perhaps they all looked around, to see how the others would react — each inwardly quaking with fear that went unacknowledged….until they saw the same stamp of terror written on each face represented, reflected in everyone’s eyes they looked into. As they looked around and saw that fear on every brow, they began to shake in fright, wondering what this mystical light represented, what it was. They had never seen anything like it before; never experienced such a feeling before as they felt as that light engulfed them in itself — that unnatural, unearthly light.

Suddenly that light began to talk to them — “Fear not.” The shepherds looked up at this injuncture, realizing for the first time in all their terror that this light had a form, a shape. It was, indeed, an angel. An angel with such a countenance that it could only come from Elohim. But no one had heard anything from the Great God in such a long time! There were rumors, about a supernatural conception of a child, an angel’s visit — but that was just a rumor. A story. A tale that a poor, sinful girl had concocted in her imagination trying to make others accept the sin she had wrought in Israel. Why the elders had not put the girl to death, they didn’t know.

They realized the heavenly being that reflected so much of the glory of Heaven was still speaking. Still speaking to them — lowly shepherds though they were. Perhaps they stood there in disbelief, that an angel of the very God would condescend to speak to them. To them! “Behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”

The Lord — the promised Christ-child that had been longed for, anxiously awaited….laying in a manger? A feeding trough? A hard, stony old feeding trough, that animals had stuck their dirty noses in, vying over food? Surely not! Not this special child that they had heard of….but then, they knew very little of teaching of their father, Moses, the great revered leader of the nation of Israel. Being shepherds — though an honourable and useful occupation — kept them perpetually unclean in the sight of the Pharisees. They didn’t have time to observe all the laws of cleanliness and purity. Being in the field kept them dirty. In protecting the sheep, they were constantly exposed to death — decaying carcasses, blood, animal dung. And yet they were being told — commanded — to go to the City of David. Bethlehem. Go into the city, among people, unclean though they were. Maybe the wondered if any one else knew of the birth of this long awaited Child, little knowing that the mighty God had chosen the “foolish things of this world to confound the wise.”

Suddenly the whole night sky lit up even more, if that was possible. The heavens glowed with angels, so resplendent with the wonder of Elohim’s majesty that the light of His glory was illuminating in the air around them. They were surrounded by Light — that glorious Light. Angel’s. Angel’s everywhere, too many to number, all around, each one clothed in the garments of Elohim’s righteousness that fairly shone with an ethereal glow. Looking up in wonder, the shepherds were amazed. Awestruck that the Mighty Creator would choose — of His own free will — to come to them, to tell them of the birth of His Son. How else would they have heard, if they were not allowed to enter into the temple? They looked around at each other, wonder slowly taking the place of fear in their faces.

As all the angels gathered around, they opened their mouths in a beautiful chorus — an Heavenly chorus — singing a song full of adoration to the great King. A song that must have originated in the throne room of Heaven, for nowhere on this sinful earth could such a song have been composed. They sang out loud and clear, with a beautiful tune….their hearts were so full of praises to the God they served, and that had to come out in some form or another, to be shared with others. Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” So full of love and respect for the Ruler of the universe, so full of love and pity for those on earth, those notes resounded over the flat, empty plain where the shepherds were staying.

The angels  vanished, as suddenly as they appeared, and the shepherds left their sheep — actually left them there — and went to find the Child. The Child they had been directed to, the Child the whole world had longed for, waited for, prayed for. They traversed the same path they had taken many times, as they headed to the temple, bringing sheep they had cared for to be slaughtered — sacrificed for the people’s sins. How many sheep they had raised for others, to pardon them before a righteously angry God, yet how little the people respected them! I wonder if they thought of the irony of this as they hurried on their way to meet the sweet little One sleeping innocently in a feeding trough.

They appeared at the doorway to the stable, an hollowed out crevice in the rock. It was damp there. Chilly. Maybe Joseph himself urged them in, gave them a welcome. Perhaps Mary proudly showed them her Baby, her eyes glowing with the wonder and joy of motherhood while a tired smile tugged at her lips, exhausted from the many weeks of travel, the hours of long, body racking labour she had to go through to birth this Child into the world. And they saw the Child, laying as the Heavenly messenger had promised — in a feeding trough that had been lined with hay in an attempt to soften the crude, roughly hewn manger.

And there were in the same country shepherds abiding in the field,
keeping watch over their flock by night.
And, lo, the angel of the Lord came upon them,
and the glory of the Lord shone round about them:
and they were sore afraid.
And the angel said unto them, Fear not:
for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people.
For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.
And this shall be a sign unto you;
Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.
And suddenly there was with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host
praising God, and saying,
Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace, good will toward men.”
~Luke 2:8-14~

Merry Christmas to each and everyone of you! I pray that this season of reflection on our Saviour’s birth will draw you closer to Him, however you choose to celebrate. That you will take the time to search out the Spiritual things this year, that you will realize what Christ went through — the depths He had to humble Himself to — when He came to earth that wondrous night so very long ago.

Other characterizations of Biblical figures:

~ Joseph — The Carpenter
~ Mary — A Mother’s Heart Part l
~ Mary — A Mother’s Heart Part ll

The Bible and Race

In today’s society and culture we are inundated at every turn by the evil of an idea that a single man propagated in the 1800’s. It was an hypothesis that had been around for several years in the American Colonies and grew during the subsequent epochs in our history in which wars were fought, territories won, and states annexed into our union. This idea was made popular by a book and read by countless people who accepted this idea.

This was the idea of different races among humans. It was the idea of hierarchies – of castes of people whose value and worth is determined by the color of their skin and their physical features. This simple, sinful idea that has far reaching consequences as all sin does. The effects of this we are still seeing in this day and age all around us: on television, on the radio, in the newspapers and magazines, on the internet, etc, etc, etc.

In the nineteenth century a revolutionary book was written entitled On the Origin of Species by Means of Natural Selection, or the Preservation of Favored Races in the Struggle for Life.” Simply known as “Origin of Species”, Charles Darwin’s work’s fame spread far and wide as people perused its pages, read and ingested the message, and applied it to life. At the time of the publishing of Darwin’s work, there was already a system of slavery in the United States. Within 25 years however, this system was abolished  and America was faced with the task of…..

~~~~~~~Read More at Foundations of Reconstruction~~~~~~~


Words, both written and spoken, are important to us. They are a means of communication. They are the most effective way to share with others what is going on in our lives and hearts. There are other ways of communicating, but we all have a foundation of words that mean something intelligible.

Humans are not solitary creatures. We were created to have fellowship with others, to seek out friendships, to communicate. We see the importance of words in the preservation of the greatest book of all time, the Holy Bible. We only have the Holy Scriptures – the revealed will of God – because of the words that were put down. These were the words that were considered by God important enough to preserve and pass on to future generations. Jesus spoke to His disciples through parables and explained the parables with the use of words.

We have the proverbs King Solomon spoke to his son. From these proverbs so many of us have learned and grown. And this was because someone knew what a legacy they would be to the future world through all the ages yet to come.

Written words are important to us. It is through written words that we know our nation’s heritage and history. Through written words we know where we have come from. Letters written have connected families and friends for centuries.. Historically this included the soldier on the front lines of battle, the missionary laboring to bring souls to a knowledge of Christ, and the children who left to seek their fortunes out on the prairie, forsaking all to follow their husbands dream of taming an untamed world. Through the use of printing presses books have been…..

~~~~~~~Read More at Foundations of Reconstruction~~~~~~~

The Other Side of Infamy

The Other Side of Infamy: My Journey Through Pearl Harbor and the World of War - By: Jim Downing, James Lund “War is uncomfortable for Christians, and worldwide war is unfamiliar for today’s generations. Jim Downing reflects on his illustrious military career, including his experience during the bombing of Pearl Harbor, to show how we can be people of faith during troubled times.

The natural human impulse is to run from attack. Jim Downing—along with countless other soldiers and sailors at Pearl Harbor on December 7, 1941—ran toward it, fighting to rescue his fellow navy men, to protect loved ones and civilians on the island, and to find the redemptive path forward from a devastating war. We are protected from war these days, but there was a time when war was very present in our lives, and in The Other Side of Infamy we learn from a veteran of Pearl Harbor and World War II what it means to follow Jesus into and through every danger, toil, and snare.”

The Other Side of Infamy by Capt. James Downing was a wonderful book! It was written by a man who lived through the attack on Pearl Harbor, and gives a wonderful, firsthand account of the attack, as well as a vivid telling of what the “good ol’ days” were like.

Capt. Downing is 103 years old, and has a wealth of wisdom to share with our generation — some of which he has passed on in this remarkable book. The style of writing was enjoyable — it seemed as though he were sitting beside me as I was reading, telling me a wonderful story of how God had preserved his life during the war and used him to impact the Kingdom of God in remarkable ways.

I prefer to learn about history through accounts of people — real people — who lived through it. I enjoy this time in history (1940’s) because there are so many first hand accounts of witnesses who actually lived through what I can only imagine. I have read many books and biographies and memoirs, and I can easily say that this ties for my “first favourite” book of this time era, Out of the Depths. Out of the Depths was a memorable book that told the story of the remarkable faith of a young man during a tragedy at sea. This book by Capt. Downing was a beautiful story of how one man was so devoted to God’s work in his life that he was willing to sacrifice it for others, of his willingness to help in times of trouble, and of his love for the Saviour. It was a story of a life that was truly consecrated to the Lord, and an example worthy of emulation.

I would definitely recommend this book, and am already planning on loaning it out =}

*I received this book in return for an honest review.
All opinions are my own — I was not required to give a favourable opinion.*

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Restoring America — Freedom in Education

Freedom in educational choices – how many parents have dreamed of this? How many dreamed of an America where school choices aren’t censored for their children; a time where a parent can place a child into any school or organization to educate their child as they see fit?

What would education look like in a truly free society? It would encompass educational choices for our children. It would encourage research into different schools and schooling methods, and it would be up to the parents discretion where to place their children. There would be no governmental permission needed to un-enroll your child from one school and place him in another. No one would be forced to fund the education of anyone else through the form of taxes.

In a truly free America, we the people would be allowed to decide what we wanted our children to know. If we weren’t comfortable with a topic being taught, we would have the freedom to opt out………

~~~~~~~Read More at Foundations of Reconstruction~~~~~~~

This post is the first in a series that the Foundations of Reconstruction writers are putting together. The goal of the series was stated well by one of the founders of the site:

“Over the next couple months, we will examine ten areas of life and discuss the three-fold freedom paradigm as outlined in Dr. McDurmon’s book. We will seek to compile an average of 25 pages per chapter into a single article. Simply stated, you need to get the book!

We hope these articles will encourage, equip, strength, invigorate, and empower God’s people to bring every area of life into captivity to Him and His Law-Word. No one said it would be easy, or that there wouldn’t be sacrifices that have to be made, but if we stick to our principles, our success if sure. We need must never judge our world by sight, but rather by faith in His promises of success and ultimate victory.”

Previous Posts:
Restoring America One County at a Time

Trials and Temptations

Trials and temptations: we all walk through them at some point in life’s road. Some may seem big and some may minute, but they are there nonetheless.

Webster’s 1828 dictionary defines “trial” as: “Experience; suffering that puts strength, patience of faith to the test; afflictions or temptations that exercise and prove the graces or virtues of men.

“Others had trial of cruel mockings and scourgings.” Hebrews 11:36.

The same dictionary defines “temptation” as: “The state of being tempted or enticed to evil. When by human weakness you are led into temptation resort to prayer for relief. Trial – lead us not into temptation. That which is presented to the mind as an inducement to evil.” And so we see that a temptation and a trial are similar in many ways. Each of them produce fruit in our lives, as James points out. The Lord uses them to make us – our character – perfect and complete. He uses them to conform us more to His image and mold us to His likeness……..

~~~~~~~Read More At Foundations of Reconstruction~~~~~~~

A Poem

A nameless something stirs in my breast
An unsatisfied feeling starts my quest.
What? I know not ~ only that I
May not rest ’til I satisfy
This monstrous something in my soul
That’s yearning and waiting to be made whole.
I look high and low, searching ~ for what?
Possessions? Mere money? Recognition? But ~
None of it satisfies ~ all of it’s vain!
All passes away causing nothing but pain!
Discouraged, downhearted, still do I long
For what? I know not ~ but the feeling is strong.
All around do I look ~ nothing is found.
Trial and tribulation abound.
Broken and lonely and weak, do I stray
Away from Him who would show me the way.
Tired of pain and hurt and tears;
Away I shrink from unknown fears.
Lonely and tired; no rest to be found ~
In my heart confusion abounds.
Will I ever find peace or joy or rest?
Do I truly believe my Lord knows best?
I shrink away from Him in pain
Knowing full well my efforts are vain.
It’s “this” and then “that” ~ a division is made,
My entire soul is so much depraved!
No one can know my heart full of sin.
No one ever thinks of the tumult within.
Why can I not submit to Him now?
His working in my life allow?
In the midst of this pain there’s a lesson to learn;
This I forget ~ for the world do I yearn.
Can I  submit to my Saviour’s will?
My human nature have I strength to kill?
My Saviour knows me; knows my heart,
Knows things that to no one on earth I’d impart.
Is it enough ~ can I be satisfied,
For the sovereign Lord to be my guide?
Even though I may feel sad and alone
Through the Lord my way will be shown.
The glory of God my comfort will be,
Until  I rest in eternity.

Book Review — Shadow of the Storm

In the darkness of the storm’s shadow, only truth can light her way.

Cover Art

Having escaped Egypt with the other Hebrews during the Exodus, Shira is now living in freedom at the foot of Mount Sinai. When the people rebel by worshiping a golden idol, the ensuing chaos gives Shira an unexpected opportunity to assist a midwife. When the experience awakens a new desire in her, she pursues her heart’s calling as an apprentice midwife.

But when a delivery goes horribly wrong, Shira finds herself in an impossible situation. As contention between the Hebrew tribes and the foreigners fans the flames of another dangerous rebellion, Shira comes face to face with the long-hidden pain of her past. Can she let go of all that has defined her to embrace who she truly is and believe in a hopeful future?

Shadow of the Storm is the second book in new trilogy Out From Egypt. This book was just as good as the first, if not better. While it could easily be read on its own, many of the characters in this volume are from the first book, and it was a joy to read more about each of them.

I love the style of writing Mrs. Connilyn Cossette uses — and the way she uses language is beautiful. Through both the first and second books my mind has been immersed in the culture of the Egyptians and the Hebrews. You can tell that the author has really studied the exodus from Egypt, and she is able to write about her studies in a way that pulls you into the day-to-day life of the Hebrews. I have learned so much about the historical aspect of this time era through these books!

I appreciated the midwifery aspect, as being a childbirth attendant is something I have been studying for. Once again, the author has studied this subject thoroughly, and it shows.

I would give this book 5 stars, and gladly recommend it to friends. I would say because of the subject material — birth, death, and the wrath of God upon the Hebrews in creating the golden calf, which was dealt with in an honest fashion — that it was definitely a book for older readers.

I am looking forward with anticipation to the third and final book in this trilogy!

~Read the review on the review on the first book here~

*I recieved this book from the publisher in return for an honest review.
I was not required to enjoy this book. All thoughts are my own*

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