Pocket-Posting

Posted on July 29, 2021 by Terri

I have heard of pocket-dialing, but never before knew I could “pocket-post” a Letter to you! That’s what happened yesterday.

Maybe you got an email in your in-box yesterday (if you are an “Email me!” subscriber) and it said, “Letters to Lindsey {New Post 4149}.” Then you hurried to opened it, excitedly awaiting what brilliant words could be in that Letter. Would it be just for you? Would it make you laugh? Cry? How will this Letter, “vent, challenge, or simply entertain, but always leave the reader and the writer changed”?

You slid the knife in the envelope (clicked to open the email) and the body of the email mysteriously said, “Terri posted: ‘maps.apple.com’.”

“What’s the secret?” you thought.

“What keen insight is she leading me into?”

“What is this strange code ‘maps.apple.com’?”

“Is she inviting me to her house for coffee?”

“Is this really her location?”

“Has she been kidnapped and is sharing her location with thousands of subscribers, just hoping that we will search and find her?”

“Is it a clue – somehow ways to parent or how to love a husband?”

“Wait! Is my link different than everyone else’s? Am I the ONLY one who got this glitch and everyone else got some fun blog post, but all I got was an ad for Apple Maps?”

“WHAT IS THIS POST?!!!”

But the truth of the matter is:

**I was just as surprised as you when I received an email to myself saying that “I” had posted a blog!**

WHAT?!!!!!!

So, here’s the story….

Chris and I were kayaking in the rain on the intracoastal of North Carolina. We enjoyed the slight drizzle and clouds that blocked the heat. Wind was gone, making for an (almost) effortless, peaceful ride. We had checked out the inlet between the islands and were making our way back to our summer home in Sunset Beach, using the incoming tide for a welcomed boost to our paddling. More than an hour into our trip, we decided to use my phone to navigate and thereby avoid a dead-end in the grass-bordered trails of water beyond which we could not see.

I set my phone down on my kayak and hoped its water-sealing was true to its hype. I glanced down ever-so-often to be sure our blue dot was heading in the direction of open water of the intracoastal. Once we recognized where we were, I put my phone back into my pocket.

That’s all I did. Cross my heart!

Upon arrival at our dock I received an email that “Terri” had posted a blog. I had evidently taken multi-tasking to a whole new level! Somehow, I had accomplished a bewildering amount of steps with only the movements of kayaking for inputs:

I changed my location-sharing in settings,
opened WordPress,
clicked “write,”
clicked copy location on the already-open Apple Maps,
clicked paste?
Clicked “publish,” which automatically emailed you and posted the link on Twitter, LinkedIn and LettersToLindsey Facebook page

and voila! I had sent my location in North Carolina to people all over the world who were, most likely, not wondering at that moment where I happened to be or what I was doing.

So what is the purpose of this Letter to Lindsey today?

Maybe to remind us of the power of the internet beyond our intentions? (I highly recommend the documentary, Social Dilemma.)
Maybe to remind us to live a Godly life so that if it accidentally gets published to the world, it wouldn’t raise eyebrows?
Maybe to remind us to be a playmate to our spouse? (Chris and I started marriage as playmates – and do our best to keep that alive. Yesterday, it was in kayaks.)
Or maybe this Letter is just for fun, because sometimes it’s fun just to laugh at ME!

I laughed when I realized I had “pocket-posted”!

I laughed that within an hour I received a teasing email from my husband stating, “Great stuff over at Letters to Lindsey,” attaching his forwarded email from my blog, as if he were promoting it.

I laughed that WordPress sent me a notification shortly after, “Your stats are booming!” as if even WP was making fun of my day!

So, dear friend, I am sorry if I wasted your time clicking over here yesterday to see my “new post,” that was not a post. I guess I have officially stepped into grandparenthood, doing something like this – like when my mother accidentally posted on Facebook that she had picked a tattoo for every one of her friends. When I questioned her, she said, “I did what?!”

One comedian quipped, “My pocket has called so many people, I am thinking of getting it a phone of its own!” Maybe my pocket needs its own WordPress account.

But, I am glad my pocket posted, because it made me think of YOU.

And now I know it’s possible to tell the world where I am, in case I am ever kidnapped.

May your day be blessed, and worthy of broadcast,

Terri

PS. Here are some kayak-trip PHOTOS that my pocket must have forgotten to post:

Pelicans lined up to watch the exciting kayaks.

A mama egret and her babies

Me and my bae:)

The ocean view between the islands.

Waiting for the Other Shoe

Posted on February 9, 2017 by Terri

Dear Lindsey

He got in the car and said, “Has anybody seen my other shoe?” We were on our way to church for our bi-weekly geography class with other homeschoolers.

“You got in the car wearing only one shoe?!” I said, changing my mood from fun Miss Frizzle to Miss Frazzled as we rushed down the road, trying to gain the minutes we had lost by leaving late.

“NO. I was carrying TWO shoes when I go into the car, but now ONE is gone! Christine!” he blamed his sister for not looking hard enough.

Seeing her reading in the front seat, I got her attention: “Christine, if you lost your own shoe, you would appreciate others helping to look. Please look.”

She looked under and around her seat; no black tennis shoe with neon orange laces was found, so she returned to reading.

We got to church. Still no shoe.

We got out of the car and my son slithered over the tops and under the seats, contorting his body to every nook and cranny of the vehicle, but still no shoe.

“Well you will just have to wear your socks to class today. It’s OK – homeschoolers are used to it,” I joked.

As we walked from the parking lot, many of their friends were in the church yard kicking a soccer ball. Next to the door, there were two Crocs (shoes) waiting for their owner to claim them before re-entering the building.

“Look! One of those soccer kids took off his shoes! You can wear them and see how long it takes him to notice!” I jested – hoping to improve my son’s mood before we got into the building.

That’s when he surprised me the most….

“THERE’S MY CROCS! I WAS WONDERING WHERE I HAD LEFT THEM!” He ran and put on the shoes that were sitting outside of the church’s backdoor…. presumably for the past two weeks since our last geography class when we had used that entrance.

I can’t say I have ever gone to a church with shoes on and gone home without them. I started to ask questions as to how exactly that happened and decided it was best just to laugh, because I was going to anyway!

I asked J.R. if I could share this story on my blog. (I don’t like to publish things that my kids would not want to be shared.) He said, “I guess, if you think it would help someone.” (Ha! So sweet!)

I asked him how he thought it could help someone… or if it was just a story that would make us laugh – which is what the three of us were doing when we saw the Crocs.

He said, “Well you could tell people that sometimes when you think you lost something, God is just saving it for the right time.”

Perfect.

When you lose that house you wanted because of someone else’s offer: wait – God might have the perfect one waiting in the perfect timing.
When you lose the opportunity to be on that team because you are not big enough: wait – God might have the perfect team on hold for the perfect time.
When you lose that job you thought you would have forever: just wait – God might have the perfect job (or one you lost before) to offer at the time when you need it most.

Or when you lose your shoe – just know that God might have another complete pair waiting for you to find at just the right place and just the right time.

Feel free to start a comment below with “when you lose” if you have a time when God gave you your other “shoe” at just the perfect time.

Blessings,

Terri (and J.R.)

Isaiah 55:8 “For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,” declares the Lord.

P.S. In case you were wondering: When we arrived home after class, his other shoe was found lying in the foyer where he must have dropped it en route to the car.

Without Rain (Things in my Head…now)

Posted on January 18, 2017 by Terri

Lindsey,

Hi! I just wanted to give you my year’s story:)

I think you know that eight years ago I had a life-threatening brain tumor. My kids were only toddlers, and the surgery was extremely rough, but truly went better than anyone had predicted. I recovered completely without paralysis, but they were unable to get “clear boundaries” because of the tumor’s proximity to a main vein in the brain.

At the 5-year mark, a doctor told me my chances were much less of recurrence, and I could come every 2-3 years. (-which was nice because MRI’s are expensive!) My husband said, “no.” He didn’t see why we wouldn’t check it every year. I think his exact words were, “I have more money and only one wife: you need to go every year.”

So last January I went for my annual scan, and for the first time in 7 years, they called me back that they had found something and I needed to have it rescanned.

The rescan eight weeks later showed more definition, and what looked like growth so they sent me to Duke Neuro-Oncology within a few weeks. The specialist called it a meningioma (same name as last time) and said that growth was questionable but that it was so small (“blueberry” size) he wanted me to wait until this January and then we would decide radiation or surgery.

I’ll skip recording here all of my emotions of screaming Nooooo!! We can just say I didn’t peacefully and joyfully say, “well, to God be the glory!” …at least not at first. I prayed – and asked a few sweet friends to pray – that I would “let go of this basket,” the same as Moses’ mother did, but sometimes I would reel it back in as though attached with fishing line. Every little headache seemed to say I was headed down an old familiar brain tumor path, and I tried to talk myself into thinking it was “all in my head” (pun intended). Every travel I planned, or commitment I made for this spring was weighed down, wondering if I would be able to follow through with it. Yet I knew I was as good as dead if I decided to stop living while I waited for the next test. I had to accept it one day at a time.

“My daily bread…” was something Jesus taught us to ask. (Matt 6:11) As I awaited the long, drawn-out period, I often thought how He didn’t say monthly bread or even weekly bread; He said DAILY bread – so I tried to be satisfied with His daily promises and stop asking for the month or year of provisions to be satisfying.

I made some health changes in hopes I was doing my best to either avoid surgery, or ready my body to endure it.

Last week, my husband and I had the appointment with the Duke Neuro-oncologist. He gave us the great news that the scan showed it was STILL a blueberry; he is not worried about it and thought it might even only be scar tissue. He told me he didn’t need to see me for THREE years!!

I praise God for this fantastic news!! Though I didn’t feel like telling everyone along the way, (some roller coasters are better ridden alone) now I feel like shouting it from the mountaintop!!

While I bask in the joy of answered prayers, and realize the floating feeling of lifted weight I hadn’t realized I was carrying in the “back of my mind,” (pun intended) I found it interesting that I want to shout about THIS one. Yet, I didn’t write blogs about the skin biopsies that came back normal, annual exams that didn’t cause concern or the colds I didn’t get. I am so extra-ecstatic this time, because the “last time” had been a bad diagnosis. “Last time” had been a fast-growing, life-threatening tumor that would likely cause seizures at any moment. “Last time” the tumor was resting on the main vein, in the area of the nerves for my mouth and eating through a bone used for hearing! “Last time” had led to urgent surgery within two weeks followed by months out of my mom-of-the-home position. Argh! “Last time’s” stormy season had taken everything I had to dance in the rain. And because of that rain, I GREATLY appreciate the sun I have been given in this great news.

In other words, I guess the rainy days in life remind us of the value in the sun.

Ask anyone who has had cancer in the past how much they celebrate the clear scans of remission.
- Ask anyone who has almost lost a loved one how much more they are drawn to that same person now that the storm is done.
  - Ask anyone who has ever lived without a meal how much they appreciate every morsel today.

Ask anyone who fully depended on daily bread, how grateful they are when the sun comes up!

The rain makes us notice the sun…and appreciate it even more. I hope it makes us tell God thank you even more as well!

If you are in the storm right now,

…like the person in front of me at the doctor, who was scheduling his next chemotherapy, while his wife and dad watched on…

…like the person behind me in the check-out line of the doctor, who was already paralyzed with an obvious head-surgery scar and sat patiently waiting in her wheelchair…

I am praying for you.

I pray you feel the God who calms the winds and waves right there with you, as He carries you to bright skies ahead.

Thanks for dancing in the sun with me.

Terri

Morning by morning, new mercies I see.

Lamentations 3:22-23 King James Version (KJV): ²²It is of the Lord‘s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not. ²³They are new every morning: great is thy faithfulness.

Homeschooling Missing Ingredients (Mistakes I’ve Made)

Posted on May 17, 2013 by Terri

Dear Lindsey

The coupons began as a spontaneous purchase at Walgreens, although I haven’t seen them there lately, so we have made our own. One coupon says, “Your choice of restaurant the next time we eat out.” Another says, “Multiply your snacks by two today,” and a very memorable one said, “You make the snack, whatever you want, and Mom has to eat a bite.”

Hmm. Why do I do these things? I was nervous when they decided to redeem that coupon!

Fortunately, my children were nice (nicer than I probably would have been to my own mother when I was their age! LOL!) and decided that they would try to make peanut butter icing, knowing my love for peanut butter. The problem was that this 6 and 7-yr-old could not find a recipe, so they just guessed. They were so excited working together. I walked through the kitchen and saw my Kitchen Aid mixer on the counter as if this were a professional production. I tried to stay out of sight, but I enjoyed their whispers from a distance.

“No, no, no! I don’t think there’s baking powder in frosting!” I heard J.R. say, “I’m pretty sure there’s vanilla, though.”

“It looks like peanut butter mush!” they cackled and then hushed each other so I wouldn’t hear their surprise.

“Mmm, it’s good mush,” Christine said, and I pictured her eyes sparkling as she took her taste-test finger out of her mouth.

“What’s that white stuff in frosting?” she asked. “I think that’s what’s missing.”

“Oh yeah!! Shortening!” he yelled, and I heard his motions climbing the counter to get to the cupboard behind the prep sink.

I cringed from my office, wondering what kind of sick mind I had the day I thought that coupon was a good one to offer. Why didn’t I say DAD had to taste it?!

“Oh Mom–my!” they sang in a doorbell-toned duet. “It’s ready for you to taste!” and the giggles filled the room.

I rounded the corner to see the powdered sugar box empty, with clear handprints in its dust all over the island. Measuring spoons were out, though I wondered what they had measured, since they didn’t have a recipe. I did not see reptiles or worms present, so I thought it must be safe for eating. With all the courage I could muster, I took the spatula from JR’s hand, where it had been preloaded with peanut butter icing, and took a lick.

“Not bad!” I said, and they squealed with pride.

So cute!

I happened to have some ooey gooey chocolate cookies left over from Christmas in the freezer, so we thawed them and sandwiched the icing between two cookies. Delicious! Really!

When I began homeschooling, I think I wanted a recipe to follow, but yet I LOVED being able to cater the learning to each individual child! I went with what I knew, and then added some things and subtracted some things. And I still do today! But just like in Christine and JR’s recipe, there are certain things I want to keep out. (By the way, that’s the real recipe they invented to the right. Use with caution! 🙂 )

Some Homeschooling Mistakes Along the Way

Although I love lists, this one is not my favorite: my list of mistakes. (And it is longer than could be captured on any blog and still growing!) However, I am grateful I learned from some of these…at least once so far, anyway.

Bringing school home: When I admitted to a dear friend, Sham Palomaki, that I never felt like I was completing a school day right, she said sweetly, “It sounds like maybe you are bringing school home instead of homeschooling.” I immediately knew what she meant, and I was guilty as charged! I had a chalkboard on the wall, and even had a 1950’s school desk I found at a garage sale! I was “teacher” during school hours, and “Mom” some time later. School wasn’t done until that little book said it was done. Missing ingredient: Home.
Routine Rut: Routine is great! We start at the same time (approximately) each day. We do subjects in the same order (although for the first year, I wrote the subjects down on popsicle sticks and allowed him to rearrange the sticks daily). But routine can lead to ruts of “unfun” hours end on end. Too often, I have become a slave master, cracking a whip, worried about the time and when summer break (for me!) would begin. I had an agenda and it needed to be met. Similar to “putting the home in school,” I realized I needed to flex. We made family sandwiches (with mom on the bottom, of course – thanks, Marcia Robinson, for that idea), learned multiplication of 7’s using football guys, added recess, put in a field trip or special lecture series by Dad (since he is at home during the day), and my older two keep telling my younger two that we used to have “math substitute” once a week. (Shhh. Those two are doing fine with math every day!) Missing Ingredient: Laughter
Keeping up with Joneses: We know that comparison is the root of unhappiness, and I really didn’t think I could be that way. I mean, my kids are the best kids on earth, so how could comparing with any others ever lead to unhappiness? Well, when someone says, “We accidentally hit an opossum in our car last night, so we decided to scoop it up and take it home for science dissection,” I realized “I am completely unworthy to ever be called a homeschool mom.” (LOL, Thanks, Wendy Lukonen, my hero!) “Keeping up with the Joneses” does two things: 1. It makes me feel like I should be doing something different in homeschooling. 2. Any moment I take thinking about “what I should have done” takes away a time where I could be encouraging another precious homeschool mom for doing her great job. I decided that Mrs. Jones was chosen to homeschool her kids. I am called to homeschool mine; no comparison allowed. Missing ingredient: contentment
Low Expectations for my kids: I watched Casey’s math test “grades” dwindle. I was never much for keeping grades. Grades seemed to be for communicating between teacher and parents how well a student was performing. I never bothered. Instead, I looked for mastery. If he missed problems, he had to re-do them until he could do them well. Red pen? Optional. One day, I realized Casey was not getting 100% of his problems correct…ever. Knowing my kid, I realized he was capable, and completely unmotivated. Why would he care? I had no expectation for him to meet. The above “coupon” program was instituted to encourage 100% on the first try of a math assessment (test). It was amazing how as soon as there was incentive, he checked and doublechecked his work before turning it in. He had never known that I expected 100%, because I had communicated otherwise. I soon recognized other areas of my low expectations: excellence of chores, cleanliness of rooms, good attitude, edification of siblings, etc. Ugh! Writing this reminds me of how much I still need to do! Missing ingredient: great expectations.
Too Many Activities: Just because opportunity knocks, doesn’t mean we have to answer it. We could go to a co-op all day Thursdays, play homeschool soccer on Friday mornings, go to homeschool art class on Monday afternoons; don’t forget library story hour next door – it’s so convenient it’s the same day and free! And shouldn’t Christine get homeschool gymnastics on Wednesday afternoons, since her brothers’ soccer dominates our evenings? Oh, and that worldview class at church seems too good to be true! But let’s not forget the “normal” evening activities of church choirs, music lessons and Awanas (Scripture memory). Not to mention that I went to Bible Study Fellowship one morning/week for 8 years. Wow. Some years, my kids did so much school in the car that I called them “Road Scholars” :). Missing ingredient: school.
Hungering for Encouragement: It can be a lonely world for homeschool moms. There is no one to say, “Your kids are awesome; here’s an ‘A’.” Or “I think your child should be invited to this honors class.” I must admit that there were many times when I would hear of awards given or school rankings of similarly aged public school neighbors and I would think, “I wish my kid got noticed.” I am embarrassed to say that I even sent the standardized test scores to the grandparents the first year of homeschool – just wishing someone would say, “You are doing a good job. Maybe you are not messing them up after all.” I know Col 3:23 says to do all for the glory of God, not man, so why does this desire creep back into me so often? Can’t I get just a little glory for me? Just a little glory for my kids? Ha! Do I really forget WHO is in charge of my homeschool? I have had to go back to that original list of “why homeschool” so many times. One of the reasons I homeschool was not, “So I can be recognized that I did a good job.” It was not, “So my child can get accolades from his peers.” But the biggest reason was so my child will hear, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.” Missing Ingredient: Eternal focus
Being Puffed Up: Too often on this journey, pride has reared its ugly head. It is difficult when taking a stand and walking against the crowd in any direction not to feel a bit of excitement when your way works! But the only way that happens is because God is at work. There were times I think I was homeschooling to “prove a point” instead of “do what was right.” When the “I’ll show them,” negative attitude wins over the “I’ll serve the Lord” attitude, the fall awaits. 1 Samuel 2:3 says, “Do not keep talking so proudly or let your mouth speak such arrogance, for the LORD is a God who knows,  and by him deeds are weighed.” This showed most clearly when we debated on sending our oldest son to high school. We had various reasons that looked like this particular Christian school could be a good opportunity for Casey: more Godly men leading as examples; competitive sports; Christian friends, etc. Casey asked us not to send him. My heart ached to have him (and frankly his good example) at home all day. Through prayer, we realized that we really felt it was the right thing to do for him and his wellbeing. Dark voices began echoing in my head, “But your identity is a homeschool mom of four! Everyone is going to know you “failed”! You’re quitting! You must not have really believed what you set out to prove!” and on and on. Chris actively wanted Casey to go to high school, but left the decision to me after his input. I analyzed five different ways of homeschooling through high school. I resisted the change in all of my normal ways – coming up with my plan B, C and D. But one morning, in silent prayer (amazing how many realizations happen on that porch while the birds sing in my ear), I realized that it was meant to be. As a friend, Ann Winters, says, “God is always on Plan A. Always.” I called the school and arranged a tour. The following fall, I sat in the bleachers watching him play high school soccer as the only starting freshman, and a man came over to me and said, “Casey is the answer to my prayers for a friend for my son.” I could hardly choke words out in reply. My prayers had been answered as well. Missing Ingredient: humility to accept when God’s plan wasn’t my plan A.

So when we add laughter to great expectations, humility with contentment, and some home along with school, I suppose we end up with homeschool. It sometimes looks like peanut butter mush, but sandwiched between two cookies of love, it is really delicious. Really!

I recently came across a blog where a man thanked his wife for homeschooling their children. He was celebrating her “retirement from teaching,” since their youngest was graduating from homeschool. What an encouragement for those of us on the journey! A copy and link are pasted below.

God bless,

Terri Brady

——–

Praising a ‘Retired’ Home School Mom

By Marty Duren , CP Op-Ed Contributor

May 13, 2013|10:42 am

The homeschool teacher who taught my children is retiring after a stellar twenty-three year career.

In the next few days we will withdraw our youngest child from her homeschool, high-school program. She then will prepare for taking the GED test in the next few weeks. For Sonya, my wife, it ends a twenty-three year homeschool teaching career.

When we made the decision to start homeschooling our oldest daughter it was not because we heard a word from God. It was not because we thought Deuteronomy 6 applied to readin’, ritin’, and ‘rithmetic. Nor was it because we were on an anti-public school tirade.

It was pretty simple. When our oldest daughter was 5 years old we lived in the country where I pastored a church. It was 10 miles each way to kindergarten. If we drove her to school we faced forty miles a day round-trips. If we put her on the bus she would board around 7:30 in the morning and return around 5:00 in the afternoon every day. That was not appealing. Each school bus, like the one she would ride, had kids from K-12. That was not appealing, either.

So, we decided to homeschool.

As is the case with most homeschool families, Mom carried most of the responsibility. After twenty-three years and three kids my wife has done at least 98% of the teaching, grading, record keeping, encouraging, reproving, threatening, laughing and crying. I probably threatened worse judgments but she did more of it.

She sought the best deals on curriculum every summer as well as determining what of our old curriculum we could sell. And, she determined what we had to keep for another child or two coming through.

She told me what math I had to do with which kid on what night. She oversaw so many science experiments we could not even count.

Some of them actually worked.

All three of our kids could read, because of her emphasis on phonics, before they started school. One, however, sandbagged all the way through first grade acting as if he did now how. It was only when she informed him he would need to repeat first grade Reading that he picked up a book and, to her amazement, started reading it to her. I feel certain a loud lecture soon followed.

She read aloud more books than anyone could count. Classics, modern stories, the Redwall series, The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, dozens of Agatha Christie mysteries. Thousands of pages, perhaps tens of thousands. Our youngest preferred to read than be read to. Finally Sonya would get two copies of the same book so they could alternately read aloud and follow along. To this day all our kids read, read widely and read much.

One thing instilled in our kids was a love of learning. I have heard more than one person say over the years they never picked up another book after college. Sonya never went to college but has picked up books ever since high school. She modeled learning, both biblical and the “schoolish” type, to our three. Education really should not be about reports and finishing courses, anyway. Education should be about creating the desire to learn and freeing the ability to do it.

We are not that home school family where each kid got a full-ride scholarship to Harvard while finding a cure for a major disease over the kitchen sink after successfully suing the government over the freedom of education. No, we had to evaluate every spring whether we would do it again in the fall. We also were not that family who went into the yard, picked a couple of dandelions and marked science off for the day. Sonya made sure there was structure. Field trips were planned judiciously. Going shopping did not count as economics. Well, not often…

Our middle child, and only boy, hated school (except for the reading part) and fought it every step of the way. He did not care for college either. But he is gainfully employed, promoted three times in a single year on his job. Our oldest got a scholarship and finished a philosophy degree at a state university. She helps run a coffee shop and thinks about the meaning of drinking coffee. Our youngest is in the choosing college phase. All three graduated at least a year early.

A local school principal once told me that, of all the homeschoolers she had ever seen, Sonya was the only one who did it right. It might have been hyperbole, but it was encouraging.

Sonya Duren passed up the choice to have a “career” so she could pour the best of herself into the three to whom God entrusted us. We forewent a lot of things to buy school supplies, books; VHS lecture tapes, DVDs and entire curriculum sets. Anything you see in the Bible about the rewards of sacrifice is embodied in her.

So, she “retires” this year with no pension, no admiring colleagues, no principal’s speech, no plaque, and no pension. She just retires having changed three lives. Not to mention my unending appreciation and admiration.

The column was first published on Marty Duren’s blog, Kingdom in the Midst.

Marty Duren is a former pastor, Christ follower, husband, father, writer, social media strategist and general provocateur who lives in Hermitage, TN. His blog, Kingdom in the Midst can be found at www.martyduren.com.

Related Letters to Lindsey:

It Began as a Walk in the Park (my homeschool beginnings)
Throwing Myself Under the (School) Bus (Reasons I homeschool)
Straight Line Crooked Line (Comparison, how to handle it)

The Bad Queens

Posted on April 3, 2013 by Terri

It is better to live on the corner of the housetop than to live in a wide house with a [bad queen]. Prov 25:24 AND Prov 21:9

Dear Lindsey,

In a previous letter, “If I am to be Queen, I Shall Be a Good One,” I talked about being a good queen (or wife), determining to be so after the story of young Queen Victoria. But of course, history is filled with bad queens – as are marriages! I could not speak with such details about such queens if I had not walked in their shoes at different times in my own marriage. Now, I see these queens walking around, torturing their miserable kings, and the country song, “Could’ve Been Me!” plays in my head: I know I have had moments of bad “queendom” in my life. I could’ve been those wives.

FOUR BAD QUEENS IN MARRIAGE:

1. Script-Writing Queen:

A script-writing queen has her script written in her head of how the day, her life, and even the lives of others are supposed to go. This queen is not always the star of the script; she can disguise herself as humble – like she wants to be in the background, yet she knows everyone’s lines by heart.

The worst part of the script-writing queen is that she doesn’t tell anyone what the script is! She surrounds herself with eggshells, as everyone walks cautiously, guessing what his or her line was supposed to be to make the play turn out as the bad queen intended.

The Remedy for the Script-Writing Queen:

Pray.
Stop writing scripts in your head. Discuss your expectations with those who are involved in meeting them, and then determine if it is an agreeable plan.
Give your king (husband) grace if expectations are not met. The more you have needed forgiveness, the more you are willing to forgive. If you have never needed forgiveness, then forgive anyway. (smile)
Recognize God is the only script-writer, and live with His plan for your day. Proverbs 16:9 says, “The mind of man plans his way, But the LORD directs his steps.” In other words, no matter how much planning I do, God’s plan for my day will always prevail!

2. Motive Assigning Queen:

Motive assigning queens think they know the thoughts, desires and intents of their kings.

When my kids were toddlers and they would fight in the car, one would often yell from the back seat, “Mom, he hit me ON PURPOSE, AS HARD AS HE COULD!”

I giggle inside at the silliness of the thought, “on purpose, as hard as he could.” It is as if the child has a measurement method for determination of the purpose and intent of his sibling as well as a gage which deciphers the magnitude of the hit in comparison to the overall ability: “on purpose as hard as he could!” Ha! But, haven’t I been like that with my husband?

“He left that dirty dish right in the middle of my clean sink just to see if I will clean it up.”
“He is driving like Speed Racer and putting my life in danger, because he thinks it’s funny that it freaks me out.”
“He has selective hearing and only hears what he wants to hear, but suddenly can’t hear when I tell him things I need him to do.”

Motive Assigning Queen translation: “He didn’t listen ON PURPOSE AS HARD AS HE COULD!” It is simply assigning a motive to his heart. Maybe my heart is the one that needs a checkup.

The Remedy for the Motive-Assigning Queen:

Pray.
Recognize the ailment: Anytime we catch ourselves saying, “He thinks ___,” “He wants___,” or “He did it because___,” we are assigning motives.
Confirm your intent analysis and strength measurement with him. In other words, ask him!

“Why are you …?” in my calm voice has often yielded answers like, “Sorry! I didn’t even notice I was doing that!” and I can thank God, because he didn’t even notice what I thought he was doing “on purpose, as hard as he could.” Haha!

3. Needy Queens:

The needy queen is one who depends on her husband for everything.

She needs him to be in the kitchen, go grocery shopping with her, notice if she changed something.
She needs him to serve her.
She needs him to be her source of happiness, and when he messes up, her life is messed up.

If my value comes from how my husband views me, I will be subject to his imperfect views.

“I made his breakfast and he didn’t like it.”
“I worked so hard to get the house straightened, and all he asked was why I wasn’t ready for the meeting.”

The Remedy for the Needy Queen:

Pray.
Do all things for the glory of God, not your own glory or even your husband’s glory.
Recognize, you are not married to a perfect person; and neither is he.
There is only one King who is perfect, and we must be dependent on Him.

When we live a life with God as sufficient for all our needs, it is truly amazing how much better marriage can be. The weight is off of our kings’ shoulders as we put all our weight in The King.

If I am doing all things for the glory of God (1Cor 10:31), then I am not waiting with bated breath for my husband’s opinion.

If I go to the car and get my own things instead of asking my husband to be my errand boy, it’s amazing how many times he says, “Here, let me get that for you!”

Need God. Love your husband.

Need God. Love your husband.

4. Checkmating Queens:

Ugh.

This is the worst set of queens, and I am embarrassed to have once been a founding member. The marriage vows of the checkmating queen say, “…to have and to hold, to compete with to the death of the king and/or the marriage.”

In Lysa Turkeurst’s book, Unglued, she talks about harboring “retaliation rocks.” My checkmating queen would pick up one rock for each mistake her husband has ever made, and harbor it for future needs of throwing it at him to win a battle. Or at least she would write down his sins and mistakes to show to some counselor one day so the checkmate can be declared as the queen wins! And the marriage loses.

In chess, there is a white queen and a white king. The white queen is on the same team as the white king…always. And together, they face the other side. It is NEVER the white queen against the white king, as a checkmating queen’s marriage is.

I don’t know if it was due to the sibling rivalry of having all brothers, or the world-against-men attitude in the male dominated workplace of engineering, but somewhere along the way, I began competing against my husband, instead of being on the same team. It was never a declaration, or public announcement; it was more of a subtlety in the background of our marriage.

I wanted the last word.
I wanted the funniest joke (and horribly sometimes at his expense).
I wanted to look smarter in front of friends, make more money at work, receive more awards, etc.

The Remedy for the Checkmating Queen

Pray.
Remember, it is you and your king against the evil forces in the world – NOT you against your king.
Edify one another, lifting each other up as better than yourself. (Romans 12:10 and Phil 2:3)
The picture you paint of your marriage in front of others (especially your children!) is influencing all of those around you. If you want your son to be a king in his house one day, show him how a king is treated. If you want your daughter to have a wonderful marriage one day, then model what a wonderful marriage would be -when the king and queen are on the same team – always.

The Story of the Brady Marriage…and my “Queendom”

As a newlywed, I was in a community band. I’ll admit: it was an awful band; but I just wanted to keep up my saxophone playing, so I attended regularly, despite my full-time job as an automotive engineer. The night of the concert, I got dressed in black-tie attire, and I headed out the sliding glass back door of our basement apartment.

That’s when I noticed that Chris was sitting on the couch, in his casual after-work hangout clothes.

“The concert starts at 7,” I said, assuming my reminder would be enough to eject him from the couch to his closet to get dressed for the concert.

“OK, Good luck!” he said, not moving from his position.

“Well, you’re coming aren’t you?” I asked, recognizing he was not.

“No, I have some things to get done,” was his nonchalant reply.

My simmering mind went to a full boil. The script-writer within me had not allowed for him to have things on his agenda. My script for the night was for him to drive a second car (since I had already conceded that he would not want to be there an hour early for my warm-ups).

I stormed around getting my things. Subliminally, I hoped my stomping would communicate my disappointment and manipulate him into coming. Words did not come out of my mouth, but smoke was leaving my ears. I was hurt. Surely he didn’t love me if he thought anything was more important than seeing my concert. He came to my concerts in college. Now he won’t even come to this? Was he misleading me in college just to marry me. Yeah, that’s it… he didn’t love me.

“Well, I love YOU!” I said, and I drew out the word, “you” to be long and sarcastic, as if I were portraying how much more my love for him was than his love for me. Checkmate.

I then proceeded to “slam” the sliding glass door.

Have you ever tried to “slam” a sliding glass door?

Have you ever tried slamming a sliding glass door that desperately needs a WD-40 massage or all my might to close it one inch at a time?!

Temper makes us look so silly!

But I was needy. Chris’s lack of attendance was messing with my happy that night.

I had a script (that I had not printed out for him) and he wasn’t following it.

I assigned motives – he must not love me.

I was checkmating – I definitely loved him more. I was going to show the world I was better than my couch-sitting husband who must have tricked me into marrying him.

Ha. It makes me laugh still. That door – stuck in its tracks, took away from my dramatic departure. It screeched to a halt, and I couldn’t get it to shut. I bent in my formal gown, trying to get the door to shut, so I could leave in a huff – my new script.

………………………………….

This letter could go on to many more bad queens:

the Manipulating Queen : Close cousin to the script-writing queen, she tells half truths, or twists words to mean what she wants them to mean.
the Victim Queen: She determines that she is a victim and nothing is her responsibility to fix.
the Beauty Queen: Her day revolves around her “self” and so do her priorities – spending hour upon hour at the salon, tanning booths and plastic surgeon, to the point where her “self” becomes an idol of her heart, and anyone who tries to mess up her “good hair day” is going to have a bad day being around her.

Christian Marriage

Oh but wait…the Good Queen exists, and with God’s help, can beat out any Bad Queen

within us. (Go back and read, “20 Ways to Encourage Your Husband” to start the process!) In Chess, the queen doesn’t beat the king on her own side, but she does defeat the opposing queen.

Do not grow weary, my friend. Focus on the good and become it…for God’s glory…on purpose as hard as you can!

Many women do noble things, but you surpass them all. –Prov 31:29

In Christ,

Terri Brady

Donating Through Dinner, Kickstarting the Heart

Posted on March 14, 2013 by Terri

Dear Lindsey,

I love the idea of “required acts of service,” for my son’s school, but the pressure to do it feels wrong when he’s fighting the clock. Couldn’t the intent backfire by hardening his heart if a teen resented being “forced” to serve someone? I have had this thought many times in parenting: when I have “forced” an apology, “forced” sharing, “forced” reading, “forced” good action when the child’s heart was not in it with me. “If the right action is taught, the heart can follow,” I concluded once again, knowing I can teach the action, but only God can change the heart.

This incident began as a school requirement.

Or maybe it began when I went to Guatemala to visit orphans in October.

…Or when we started splitting allowance into Giving-Saving-Spending jars when he was 6.

God knows when the idea began, but a new chapter was written last week when Casey, my 15-yr-old, was completing his requirement of 3 hours of “Christian service” due last Friday. In the past, he has done lawn work for less fortunate, or volunteered on a soup kitchen team with classmates, but now he was down to the last week and needed to think fast. He asked me if I had any ideas.

My thoughts pelted: “He could ‘make dinner for a neighbor’ and checkmark his requirement for the grade. He could babysit a friend’s kids for free; but that wouldn’t help his heart in reaching others in the name of Christ, which is probably the teacher’s goal.”

That’s when I heard noise outside. Christine, my 9-yr-old philanthropist-wannabe, who loves the thought of owning a business, had begun another one in the driveway: selling “arts and crafts” that were made from the trash in our garage. She and her neighborhood friend, Karsen, had decided to raise money for the orphans in Guatemala. She was yelling up and down the street like a town crier: “FINALLY! SOMETHING TO MAKE YOU FEEL GOOD ABOUT SPENDING MONEY!” She yelled to an empty street, waving a poster in her hands.

There are less than ten houses between ours and the street’s end, so less than ten cars would be passing – probably after 5pm, and it was only 2:30. JR (7) sat patiently by the cash box in the wagon, waiting for customers. Another Norman Rockwell scene at the Brady house.

Kind dog-walkers (who must have brought their wallets!) bought $4 worth of painted soup cans and cardboard houses.

Christine was elated! She had a goal to raise money to sponsor an orphan for a month ($35min).

“That’s a lot of decorated trash to sell,” I thought.

That’s when the idea developed. Casey and I ran with it.

“We could sell dinners to the neighborhood, and raise money for the orphans!”

And so it began.

Chris, the marketing expert, taught them how to word a flyer that would go out to the neighborhood. “’What’s in it for THEM?’ is what you want to put first,” he said.

The three (Casey, Christine and JR) decided “what’s in it for their customers” was

1. Donating to a good cause and

2. Yummy homemade dinner

They worded and reworded the flyer until it looked like this, with the subject line: “Donating Through Dinner.”

To all of JP [our neighborhood]: the Brady kids (Casey 15, Christine 9, and J.R. 7) are hosting a fundraiser to earn money for orphans in Guatemala, and would like to offer to make your lives easier by bringing you dinner!

We have made delicious potpies, brownies and cookies, and all you need do is reply with how many potpies you would like. The price is $10 per 9″ pie, and for an extra $1, you will also receive 6 cookies/brownies/a mix, of your choice.

Please reply, first come first served!

100% of the profits will go to Forever Changed International, to support Dorie’s Promise Orphanage.

Simply answer back with your address and we will bring dinner to you! (all that is required is oven heating).

Thank you for helping us make a difference in the lives of the less fortunate.

The Brady kids!

(P.S. If you have concerns about food allergies, we do too! Just ask!)

(P.P.S Please hurry and answer before dad eats all the brownies!)

His dad doesn’t know what a pastry blender is (an old joke in our marriage), but Casey Casey potpies made the crusts from scratch (with a little help from me in the rolling) and loaded the meat and veggies into pans, while Christine made brownies, JR made cookies and I stood in awe as foreman. The kitchen was full of joy – the kind that only comes through serving others. Even the cleanup didn’t seem like work. They had lost themselves.

They sent the flyer through email distribution to our neighborhood that night, and headed for bed.

Brady Bakers Within 15 minutes, my email was active: all of the pies were sold. Orders continued into the night, and I thought about announcing they were sold out, but I tried to sit back and let the business owners decide.

The next morning on the way to school, I told Casey all of the potpies he had made had been requested and asked what he wanted me to do with the remaining orders.

He was shocked, but thrilled.

“So let me get this straight: I worked for four hours and we can sponsor an orphan for five months?!” he said as he did the math of their proceeds.

“If this rain cancels soccer tonight, I hope we can do more!”
His heart was in it!

Whether it’s time or money, the joy of giving can be duplicated in no other way than …giving. Sometimes you act, and the heart follows.

19 pot pies: $190

17 desserts: $17

To an orphan: 5 months

A heart changed: priceless.

God bless,

Terri

Proverbs 11:25 Whoever refreshes others will be refreshed.

Potpie recipe: click here

Orrin Woodward ‏‪@Orrin_Woodward

A person doesn’t feel, then act; rather, he acts, then feels. Change actions to change feelings.

Chris Brady ‏‪@RascalTweets

At the heart of our problems is the problem with our heart.

Letters to Lindsey

Tag Archives: Christian Wife

Pocket-Posting

**I was just as surprised as you when I received an email to myself saying that “I” had posted a blog!**

That’s all I did. Cross my heart!

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The Bad Queens

FOUR BAD QUEENS IN MARRIAGE: