The Challenges of Gift Giving

Another Christmas has come and gone, and with it the pressures of Christmas shopping and gift giving. It's not that I'm a stingy person--I love to be generous and give gifts to the people I love. But I don't like feeling like Christmas gift giving has evolved into a duty, the challenge of buying things for people who have everything that they need--as well as a lot of stuff that they don't need. It's the tension of avoiding Christmas becoming all about the physical things we can buy for each other while focusing on the reality that the Word became flesh--our God took on a physical body to attain for us the spiritual blessings that none of us could ever buy.


I wouldn't want to do away with gift giving, I suppose. Gift giving motivated by love can be meaningful and joyful. But I yearn, like blogger Amy Julia Becker, for a time when gifts meant more because they were something beyond the everyday. Amy Julia explains:


My idealized version of Christmas comes from “Little House on the Prairie,” where Christmas involved treats and presents that weren’t a part of every day life. Laura and Mary couldn’t imagine anything better than a stocking with a tin cup, a peppermint stick and a shiny new penny. I would love for our Christmas celebration to approximate their sense of delight. But I can only imagine one way for Christmas morning to become a time of celebrating the material world and humbly receiving from one another. We would have to live more simply for the other 364 days of the year.

In the world of the Little House family, when an orange and peppermint stick were once-in-a-year events, it was relatively easy to find gifts that would delight the receivers.  Those peppermint sticks and oranges didn't have to compete with smart phones, flat-screen TVs, game systems, and e-readers. And the relationships among family members satisfied then what many of us try to satisfy today with things that drive us away from meaningful human relationships. What could possibly provide this level of delight in our fast-food, Facebook, texting, smart-phone world, where our problem is finding space for all of the stuff we already have, never mind room for all the new stuff we don't need--or even want? 


This year, I think my daughter Katie had the right idea. A college student, she is operating on a limited budget. We encourage her to use whatever money she earns from babysitting jobs, photography clients, and her on-campus job in the library for the things she needs: tuition, books, day to day expenses. She wanted to give gifts to her family, but she didn't have much to work with. She adopted a chapter from the Little House books and bought each of us small treats that she knew we would enjoy. For Henry and me, a small box of Belgium chocolates. For her brother, some kind of Japanese soda with a marble in it that is released when you open the bottle. She gave similar treats to her grandparents. I loved watching her hand out her well-thought-out treats and the delight she obviously felt as we received them with gratitude. Things that aren't part of the every day, things carefully thought out and lovingly given. Things that didn't cost much in dollars.


And then there was Jonathan, whose face lit up when he opened up the package with the Answers in Genesis book that he asked for. The truth is, he would have been thrilled to have found a laptop or expensive game system under the tree. But if he had, I'm not sure he would have found the book so exciting, and I'd rather he learn, for now, the value of the gift of learning.


So while I still haven't entirely figured this gift-giving thing out, some good things happened this year at Christmas. Next Christmas, I'm sure, will be the one where I figure it all out.

Keeping Romance Alive

The calendar and Hallmark tell us Valentine's Day is just around the corner (this weekend, in fact), and I find that now that I'm married, Valentine's Day just isn't nearly as exciting as I thought that it might be when I didn't have a valentine to celebrate with. But I must explain: Henry and I celebrate Valentine's Day in a sense every week, so it's hard to imagine what we'd do differently from what we do every week on date night.

The people who know us well know that most Friday nights for Henry and me are date night, a feature of our courtship that I insisted must be carried over into our marriage. There isn't anything especially novel or radical about date night, but I think that it was key to our pre-marriage romance, and it certainly is an important element for us now.

When Henry and I were dating, we reserved Friday nights for each other. He would choose a restaurant, come pick me up and bring me flowers, and then we would have a lovely dinner with conversation. After we'd been dating for awhile, we'd go back to my house and have coffee and a special dessert that I picked up at a bakery. That was date night. And date night now looks very similar. He doesn't buy me roses every week (people ask if he still does), but often the roses he buys last more than one week, and he knows how they're looking now when Friday night rolls around. And when we were dating, the bouquets were a nice reminder throughout the week of Henry. Now I have him throughout the week, which is much better than roses.

Anyway, we still go out most weeks (unless something else comes up), and he still suggests the restaurant. (These days I feel a little freer to suggest an alternative, but many times when I arrive at home and he makes his suggestion, it's often a restaurant I was thinking of.) I usually stop at a bakery on the way home from work and get some dessert. After dinner, we come home and have coffee and dessert and watch a movie that we've gotten from Netflix. And that's date night.

It's not date night, per se, that is such a unique idea. What is important is that we've set this evening aside for each other, and it's something we look forward to all week. And it truly keeps romance alive. And so on this Valentine's Day, I'd advise every married couple to adopt some form of date night and make it a regular part of your lives. Date night will look differently from couple to couple based on interests and circumstances. Couples with young children who don't have a lot of extra cash for babysitters and nice restaurants might have to adapt date night to their situation at this season in their lives. Maybe it just means having a glass of wine or a dessert and watching a movie at home after the kids have gone to bed. It may require some creativity and planning, but it will be worth the effort.

Here are some suggestions for date nights from an article in Christianity Today:

1. Take in a local concert or theater production. We've really enjoyed some productions at local community theaters, and they don't charge as much. One of our favorite local theaters where we've seen some great performances is Master Arts.

2. Read a book of short stories aloud to each other. Or anything that interests you as a couple. Read a novel together. The point is that you're sharing time doing something you both enjoy.

3. If you have children, ask them to plan your date! But don't be surprised if you find yourself at Chuck E Cheese.

4. Make it a three-course progressive dinner. Have an appetizer at one restaurant, main course at another, and dessert at another. Would require lots of time and money.

5. Give an encore performance. Do something that you did on a date before you were married that you really enjoyed, or take up an activity that you enjoyed before you were married that you aren't doing now.

6. People watch. It costs nothing. And Henry and I have had some of our best times making up stories about the people we see when we're out.

7. Just go for a drive together. With no destination in mind.

So this year, commit yourself to celebrating Valentine's Day every week rather than once a year on February 14. Valentine's Day won't be nearly as special when it rolls around, but that's because every week will be special.

The Cost of Texting

An article in the Washington Post tells the story of a 15-year-old Maryland teenager who racked up over six thousand text messages in one month. She texts at home, at school, in the car, while walking her dog, while doing her homework--and she even takes her cell phone to bed with her at night, where she sometimes is awakened by the sound of a new text message. The young girl told the Post writer that she would die without her text life. She admits that she doesn't focus well on homework, and she texts with others while her parents are in the same room. They have no idea with whom she's communicating or what they are saying to each other. The article reports that some teens actually text their parents while they are together in the same house.


While the writer of the article pointed out certain advantages for teens with cell phones (being socially affirmed, being accessible to parents), experts have a growing concern that there are downsides, such as declines in spelling, word choice, and writing complexity. Some teens have difficulty staying on task, and some of the more horrific uses of texting are bullying and sexting, where teens text nude pictures of themselves and others.

I watch all of these growing communication technologies with great interest and concern--as a professional in the communications industry, as a mother, and as someone who loves God's gift of language and wants to be a good steward of it. While not inherently evil, the new tools of communication often seem to be leading us to a less intimate, less thought-ful discourse. They divide us from the very people we ought to be closest to. We can't seem to get enough communication-as-entertainment. Blogs have become the horses and buggies of online communication as Web users seek more instantaneous, more constant means of following others and being followed. So now we Twitter, and our tweets are reduced to no more than 140 characters at a time. Blogging and Facebooking take too long to read and write. We can't be bothered with the time consumption of correct spelling, and so we create our own texting language that allows us to shorten words to letters and avoid punctuation and capitalization.

The state of things leaves me with more questions than answers, like these:

1. Why is texting necessary? If you are unable to reach someone, there is usually the option of leaving a voice mail. And clearly if you are texting and get an immediate response, you could be talking verbally (GASP!) together.

2. Why do parents buy plans that include texting? We have simply opted for a plan that charges for texting, and we let our teen cell phone user know that if she sends/receives texts, she will pay for them out of her own pocket. It hasn't been a problem because she doesn't like to communicate by texting, and she knows we mean it when we tell her she will pay. Katie's school has had to establish a cell phone policy this year. Students were texting during class, cheating on tests, and being disruptive. I recently read of one blogger who spoke at a teen retreat. The youth leader challenged the teens to leave their cell phones behind, but few did. The phones were an obvious distraction to the teens who were supposed to be focusing on their relationship with God. Why, oh why, don't parents take control of their children's use of cell phones? Allowing our children to use a tool that we own does not mean they now get to call the shots about how that tool will be used.

3. I must confess that I have a concern about this need for constant, instant communication. It has become a god that we are willing to sacrifice privacy, intimacy, and quality relationship to all too quickly. What could teenagers possibly have to say to one another in the middle of the night that is so urgent that it can't wait till morning? I see this in my own children, as they enter the house and are instantly drawn to the computer in the basement, much like the airline passengers in the TV show Lost were inescapably pulled to the magnetic fields of the mysterious island. Why is Katie unable to do her homework unless she has her Facebook page pulled up to answer--instantaneously--any message that appears? What does it say about us, this craving for constant communication? How could it ever, always, be meaningful, purposeful, effective? And all of this constant superficial conversation leaves little time for the kind of conversation that should be happening in a family, between friends, and even husbands and wives.

It will be interesting--and a little scary--to see what all of this brings in years to come, as a generation that has always had cell phones and social networking comes of age. I wonder how people will do their jobs while they feed their need for entertainment--because work is often not very entertaining. I wonder how parents who have grown up not talking with their own parents will communicate faith, values, and life lessons to their own children. Will they even be able to pull themselves away from their computers and cell phones to procreate? Will children remember fondly the storybooks of their childhoods, as I do? As I hope my own children do? Time--and Twitter--will tell.

Postscript: This article discusses some of the harmful effects of social networking on children. The findings are interesting, but not surprising.

New Scenes from the Next Act

Scene 1: A mom, dad, and son are taking a walk through the neighborhood on a beautiful evening in late summer. The three clearly enjoy each others' company--talk, teasing, and laughter ring out in the crisp evening air. The question of speed arises; both the dad and the son want to increase the pace, while the mom lags behind at her leisure. The combination of teasing, laughter, and testosterone results in a foot race, with the dad and the son speeding down the street toward the corner at the end of the block, laughing all the way as they urge each other on. The two reach the corner and put their arms around each other in an embrace--father and son in a fellowship of maleness that the mom can only watch appreciatively from the wings, where she's actually happy to be.

Scene 2: Mom and Dad are working together in the home office, he at his desk and she at hers. It's dark now, well into the evening, and the mom realizes that the daughter, who just got her driver's license, should be home soon from Madrigals practice. Almost as soon as Mom has this realization--as she checks her watch--she hears Daughter come in from the garage; she runs up the stairs and bursts into the office. "You should see this piece of music! It's amazing! Have you ever sung this in choir?" Even though the mom has some past choir experience herself, she knows this question is not addressed to her; it is addressed to Dad, across the room. Mom looks over her shoulder as Daughter and Dad together look at the music. Dad recognizes the composer and pulls out a CD with a performance of that very piece. Mom joins the two--Dad and Daughter--yet remains in the wings as they listen together to the amazing piece of music.

Scene 3: Mom comes in from work. It's been a long day. Dad greets her at the door with a hug and kiss and then tells her the son's principal has called. It's only the second week of school, and already there has been an issue. Dad describes the conversation he had with the principal and then the subsequent conversation he has had with the son. He believes the son has heard and understood and will work on doing better. While the mom is concerned for her son--that he get off to a good start, that he behave in an appropriate way, that he make new friends in his new school--she is reassured that Dad has managed the problem well, that things will improve. And she realizes that all of this happened while she was offstage, unaware of the developing plot line, uninvolved in this particular scene at all.

Scene 4: For several days now, the mom has stood in the background--preparing dinner, doing dishes, taking care of the laundry--while Daughter and Dad have made plans for her driver's license test. Since Dad is available, he will take her to the appointment. Some time passes, and it is the day before the test; Mom hears Dad and Daughter making final arrangements: what time he will meet her at school, at which door he should pick her up, whether the non-functioning wiper on the rear window will disqualify her from her test. The next day arrives, and Mom realizes that at this moment, a short while before lunch, Daughter is taking her test with Dad seated in the backseat. Mom returns from lunch and opens an email from Dad, telling her that Daughter has, in fact, passed. Later Daughter tells her that when she learned that she passed, Dad gave her a hug, told her that she'd done a good job--"you know--the dad thing," she explains.

And while for most audiences, this doesn't sound like very exciting drama, this stuff of everyday life, these are the scenes that thrill a mom's heart. This mom, who has always been right at center stage, playing both Mom and Dad, now at times actually gets to observe, from the wings, the development of characters as they interact with one another, playing off one another's strengths, seeking to improve points of weakness. She happily relinquishes her role as Dad to one who isn't just playing one but one who is one, as though he had been all along, one who carries off his role seamlessly, with great skill. It's hard to remember a time when Dad wasn't part of the cast, even though he's only been introduced recently in this next act. And Mom enjoys having the scenes that have been played out in her absence reenacted, retold, relived. It's nice to know the plot can continue to unfold, even without her direct involvement. It is hard to always be "on," at center stage, in the heat of the spotlight. And while she would never give up her integral part in this sometimes drama, sometimes tragedy, often comedy, it is with great relief and with thankfulness to the Master Director of this story that Mom welcomes this new cast member, with all her heart, to this new act.

Changes

Because of our big move this coming weekend and--there's something the following weekend--oh, right, getting married, and then a week of honeymooning after that, this will be my last post as a single mom, the way I described myself in my profile when I started this little blog. Back on that cold winter morning in January 2007, I had no idea that I would ever need to change the profile on my blog because (1) I didn't know how long blogging would last for me; and (2) I had pretty much decided marriage was something that, if it happened at all, would probably happen when I was much older, when Katie and Jonathan had grown up and moved on with lives of their own.

I have to say that this is a change I definitely welcome, because I've never wanted to be a single mom, I've always desired to be married, and having Katie and Jonathan was the result of my being married in the first place. And even though single parenting has been the most difficult task I can imagine, I've learned many things along the way on this twelve-year unwelcome journey that I hope will make me a better wife and married mom. These are some of the most significant lessons God has taught me.

1. God does provide--but not always in the way we would expect Him to. When I was between jobs and had no health insurance for my family and worried what would happen if one of us were sick or injured, God provided by keeping us all healthy and injury free. When I worried about a godly male influence for my growing children, God put it in my parents' hearts to move from Ohio to Michigan so that my dad was here to fill in the gaps. And then He gave me the idea of asking our church's deaconry if there was a young man who would like to minister to Jonathan as a "big brother," and God gave us Tom, who took Jonathan under his wing. When I resisted working full time because I didn't want to take time away from Katie and Jonathan but finances made it necessary, God gave me a full-time job at Discovery House Publishers, the most family friendly employer I can imagine. And my boss, Carol (who is more like a friend), who has great experience as a working mom and grandma, couldn't be more understanding when family issues arise. God does provide, we just need to ask for eyes to see His provision.

2. Waiting for God to deliver what we need is always the best strategy. I mentioned that I never wanted to be single, and raising two children is a lonely and trying job. Out of loneliness I entered the dating arena (always a wrong motivation), lowered my standards considerably, and was hugely disappointed on a couple of occasions as I tried to take matters into my own hands and find a husband. I'm not going to argue that actively seeking a spouse is a bad thing, but a desire for marriage has to be rightly motivated, and if it isn't, it probably won't go well (as it didn't for me). When I finally sat back, relaxed, and learned to be content with God's plan for my life, He brought me Henry--but only when He had made me ready for him. God always gives us what is best for us.

3. God does give us what is best for us, even when it hurts. It's the stuff of cliche: We tell our children, "This hurts me more than it hurts you" when we punish them or give them medicine or take them for a vaccination. And when we become adults, we look back and are grateful that our parents steeled themselves and punished us, made us take medicine, and took us for our vaccinations. During a long stretch of unemployment, several jobs became available that I just knew would be perfect for me. When I didn't get those jobs, I was angry and disappointed. One of those jobs was at a bookstore that ended up going out of business a few months after I interviewed for the job. Do you think God knew that bookstore was going to go out of business? I can't imagine a job that I could love more than the one I have now. I'm encouraged to learn and grow, my abilities are appreciated, I work with wonderful Christian people, I get to write often, and I've acquired the greatest group of author friends who are so enjoyable to interact with. And even though during my job search I often behaved as a selfish child, God still gave this amazing job to me. Thankfully He reserved His best for me and didn't just give me what I wanted.

4. I learned to approach life more calmly with a better sense of perspective. When I was 28, my 20-year-old sister was killed in a car accident. When I was 33, I stood by my 35-year-old husband's bedside as he drew his last breath. Looking death in the eye like that makes you see things a little bit differently. Gaining perspective still didn't happen for me overnight because I had to learn the lessons of numbers 1-3 before I really got a handle on this one, but I think I'm on my way.

5. I learned that I actually could do all things through Christ who gives me strength. I could take care of a family. I could buy a house. I could find a faithful church when the one we were members of collapsed. I could work full-time and find creative ways of meeting my kids' needs--and I could be good at my job. I could teach my children the truths of the Word with the help of instruction from a faithful pastor, godly school teachers, and godly grandparents. I could take us on a vacation to Williamsburg, Virginia. And now I can be a good wife to Henry--because God will provide what I need to be a good wife.

So as you, dear readers, think of us in the coming weeks, pray for us--for a safe and efficient move into a new home, a happy wedding with lots of great and meaningful moments, peace for Henry as he assumes the role of husband and father and actually lives with other people for the first time in many years, obedience and understanding for Katie and Jonathan as they now answer to a father for the first time in their memory, and encouragement as the three of us leave behind a church and pastor that we have loved and join Henry at his congregation. Pray that I'll never forget the lessons I've learned in my single years, and that those lessons will make me an effective wife, mom, and editor. Pray--because another lesson that I've learned is that God hears our prayers and answers when we pray according to His will.

And in a couple of weeks, when I come back to my little blog, it will be as a married mom.

May Happenings

This was just one of those weekends that was just jam packed with activity and excitement at the Selden house! The action began Friday night when Katie and friends attended South Christian's Junior-Senior Event [the nice word Christian schools use for prom]. Here she is all glammed up for the big night in her yellow Belle-like dress. She and several of her friends enjoyed sophisticated dining at TGIFriday's downtown and then attended the event at Grand Rapids Public Museum.


And while Katie was enjoying the South event, Henry and I were just around the corner at DeVos Hall in awe of the Grand Rapids Symphony and guest artist, pianist Andre Watts. It was quite an evening, with pieces by Ravel, a piano concerto by Grieg (featuring Watts), and a Tchaikovsky selection. What an evening of music, and Watts was excellent. From our seats in the mezzanine, we could actually watch him playing, and as someone who had piano lessons from third grade to college, I marveled at his technique and skill.

And it all peaked on Sunday with Mother's Day. Our little dining area was filled with mothers and the people who love them. Our celebration included the three of us, my parents, Henry, and his mom. It seemed appropriate that I, a mom, actually prepared a pretty good meal, something I know I'm capable of but rarely happens. We feasted on that great traditional Mother's Day favorite, lasagna, and for dessert we savored my best-ever homemade cheesecake.

And in the few down moments, I continued reading the sleeper surprise that is currently topping the Christian bestseller lists: The Shack. There will be a review when I've finished reading it--I promise! But this is probably enough excitement for now.

A Valentine Story

It's Valentine's Day, and--I can't believe this is true--but the most romantic story I know of at the moment is the one I'm living. So in tribute to love, romance, and Hallmark holidays, this is our story.

Our story actually began about two years ago (I'm not sure exactly when) when my pastor asked if I would be interested in meeting someone. I was still recovering from the previous disappointing relationship, but I said sure. I had heard of Henry before--a couple of different times his name had come up as someone that I should meet--but to this point no one that we both knew had seemed really driven to bring us together. The prophetic words of one friend still ring in my mind: "The girl who gets Henry is really getting a good one!" Truer words were never spoken.

When Henry didn't call, I really didn't give it much thought, and if I did ever think about it, I was usually more relieved than anything that he hadn't called. I had decided that I had experienced enough disappointing relationships and had had enough of dating. I was putting the whole dating thing on hold until Katie and Jonathan had grown up and moved on. Then, when I would be the only one to experience the trauma, I might explore the whole thing again.

So honestly, when I picked up the phone on a July evening in 2006 and heard, "This is coming out of the blue. I'm a friend of your pastor's," I was almost a little disappointed. Since I didn't know why so much time had lapsed between my pastor's asking and Henry's calling, the thought that went through my head was that I had given my word some time ago, and I should probably just have dinner. What harm would it do? We'd go out a couple of times, and then Henry would decide that being a bachelor really was what he wanted to be, and the whole thing would become a memory that would fade quickly. (Later I was to find out that even though my pastor had talked to me months previously, he had only talked to Henry about a month before he actually called.)

So Henry picked me up that Saturday evening, and I was impressed. He brought me flowers, and we had dinner at Carabba's. He opened all doors for me and behaved in the most consistently gentlemanly way I've ever seen. I was impressed--not smitten--but impressed. I remember thinking that I enjoyed our conversation. And when he brought me home, he asked if I would be available to go out for dinner the next week. I was a little surprised. Usually the next step would be a meaningless offer to "call sometime." Here was someone who was willing, on the spot, to commit to next week. I actually wrote him a thank-you note for being such a gentleman. Such demeanor was rare in my experience.

And so we continued. Every week Henry would bring me home, and every week he would ask me if I was free the next week. And I (even though I wasn't always sure why) would agree to see him. The truth was that I was surprised that he wanted to continue to see me; I was even keeping track of the number of dates that we had gone on in my planner at work.

Probably a turning point for each of us came on Labor Day. It was a beautiful, end-of-the-summer day, and both Katie and Jonathan were busy doing their own things. I steeled my nerves, called Henry, and asked him if he'd like to have a picnic. He seemed glad to do so, so I picked up some sandwiches at Panera, drove to his house, and then we went to Palmer Park. When we were finished eating, he asked me if I'd like to go on a hike. I was a little hesitant since I wasn't really dressed for it with my shorts and cute sandals. We decided to take one of the less challenging trails, but somewhere along the way the signs with the arrows disappeared, and I found myself, cute sandals and all, up to my knees in mud. Always the gentleman, Henry cleaned off my sandals at the first opportunity. Both of us were bleeding--branches had cut our legs. But it was hilarious. I realized after that day that Henry was someone who knew how to have fun, and he said that he realized that I would be willing to follow him anywhere.

And so we continued. We both played it very low key. We didn't talk about our dating relationship to others much, and we didn't go to church functions together. We weren't trying to be secretive. I think we both had the sense that this was between the two of us, and whatever happened needed to happen between us first without the input of others. And I was careful to keep Katie and Jonathan uninvolved until I believed there was reason to involve them.

On Memorial Day 2007, I invited Henry over for a cookout. Things went well, and it was sometime around then that I started inviting him over on Sunday evenings. It was during the summer that our love began to grow and we began to realize that this was something that we both wanted to last. And the kids began to get to know him as we'd all sit out on the patio on warm Sunday evenings, talking and laughing and catching fireflies.

By the end of the summer, I think we both knew that things were pretty serious, and now it was a matter of biding our time. We did start attending church functions together, and people began to realize that we were a couple. In fact, when Henry and I attended a dinner together at his church, an older lady came up and hugged him when she saw that we were together because she was so happy for him. Henry is very popular with the older ladies in his church.

And so on December 21, 2007, after almost a year and a half of dating, on an evening when we were celebrating Henry's birthday, he presented me with an engagement ring as we sat on the couch in his living room. He asked me to marry him, and of course I said yes. To this day--unless something unusual comes up--he brings me roses every week. We go to dinner on Friday nights, and we always will. I continue to marvel at what an excellent man he is, and I continue to ask God to make me into a wife that always brings Henry joy and provides true help as a blessing to him.

It isn't a dramatic love story, and no movie executives are offering us a contract for it. In the eyes of the world, easing into love as we did is not nearly as exciting as falling in. But since God wrote our story, it's a pretty good one, and I'm anxious to see how the plot will continue to develop.

The End of the Story

When last I left you, dear readers, Jonathan and I were huddled under afghans, surrounded by tissues, thermometers, and half-filled glasses of liquids. Poor Katie was finding any excuse possible to leave the house in order to avoid catching the plague.

The story has a happy ending. Jonathan and I are well on the way to recovery. I returned to work on Monday, and he would have gone back to school yesterday if there hadn't been a snow day.

And the best news: Katie remained healthy and sang fabulously at district solo and ensemble contest (one Italian piece and one American folk song) Saturday morning, received a 1 rating, and qualifies for state competition if she chooses to go. And as you can see from the picture, "Cinderella" did make it to the ball Saturday night.

Henry has also remained healthy, but the one sad aspect of this story is that due to disease and inclement weather, we haven't seen each other since Friday night. The way things stand now, I won't be seeing him again till this Friday night. Let's hope he stays healthy and the weather cooperates.

Sick

There's actually a reason I haven't been blogging this week, and it isn't just because I didn't have anything to say. I'm on day three of not going to work because I've been sick, and it really hasn't been much fun, even though, unfortunately, it has become a mother-son bonding experience.

I felt it coming on Tuesday. Somebody at work said, "What's up with your voice?" And I'd had that just-not-quite-right feeling and took some Ibuprofen a couple of times. By Tuesday night, a cough had set in, the aches were pretty apparent, and my voice definitely had that gravelly sound. Henry was over that evening, and I warned him to sit at the opposite end of the couch. (He didn't--and now I've been panicked ever since that he's going to get "it.")

By Wednesday it was full blown, and when I called the office to say that I wouldn't be in, I'm sure the pathetic sound of my raspy voice convinced the listeners at the other end that Annette, in fact, was one sick person. And poor Jonathan suffered through an entirely wasted snow day for him on Thursday because he woke up with symptoms just like mom's. Headache? Yes. Sore throat? Yes. Just generally achy? Yes.

And poor Katie, with a solo and ensemble vocal competition Saturday morning and a homecoming dance Saturday night for which she has had a dress for a very long time, lives in fear and pops Echinacea like candy.

It's been a less-than-amazing week at the Selden house. And yet, this too shall pass.


As Henry and I discussed friends who face much more serious illnesses, we both agreed that a nasty little virus was not that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things. And as a result of a trip to the med center Wednesday night to rule out bacterial infections requiring antibiotics, I realized that I now have, for the first time in a long time, an emergency contact person other than my mom and dad--Henry. And in a weird sort of way, that's a nice thing. The other nice thing has been having him call --not to ask what's for dinner or if I can still do something for him--but to ask me how I am (and not just so he can gauge how likely it will be that I can do something for him). For kids, parents never really get THAT sick.

So the weather outside is frightful, and the atmosphere in our house is currently filled with germs and the sounds of coughing and sneezing. But, like every other year, the snow will melt eventually, the air will warm, and spring will come. But for now, I think I'll just take a nap.

For Julia, or How Dutch of Me

As busy working mothers, Julia and I find it difficult to line up our calendars so that we can get together. But when it finally works out, it's always a good--and long--time. We met for breakfast at Panera, but the lunch crowd was lining up when we finally dragged ourselves away. What could be so exciting, you wonder? Conversations like this one:

Annette: I'm really going to have to get going. I still have a lot to do today. I'm having company over tomorrow night, and I need to get groceries.
Julia: (remembering that Annette has a fairly strict view of the Sabbath) Oh, you can't just go out and get pizza, can you? What are you going to have?
Annette: I'm just going to make some soup and throw some bread, lunch meat, and cheese on the table. Just keeping it easy.
Julia: How Dutch of you, Annette! What kind of soup? Take pictures of it and blog about it. Post the recipe!

You can easily see how time can get away from two friends conversing about such riveting topics. In fact, it was probably another hour or so after this slice of conversation that I actually did go to the grocery store and get the ingredients for Italian sausage soup. And as Julia requested, here is the recipe.

INGREDIENTS:

1 lb. Italian sausage
1 clove garlic, minced
1 chopped onion
2 (14 oz.) cans of beef broth (I added 1 to 2 cups of chicken broth as well)
1 (14.5 oz.) can Italian-style stewed tomatoes
1 cup sliced carrots
1 (14.5 oz.)can great Northern beans, undrained
1 zucchini, cubed
1 pkg. frozen spinach
1/2 cup raw orzo noodles
1/4 tsp. ground black pepper
1/4 tsp. salt
(I also added some Italian seasoning.)
DIRECTIONS:
1. In a stockpot or Dutch oven, brown sausage with garlic and onion. Stir in broth, tomatoes, carrots, and season with salt and pepper. Reduce heat, cover, and simmer 15 minutes.

2. Stir in beans with liquid, zucchini, spinach, and orzo noodles. Cover and simmer another 15 minutes or until zucchini is tender and noodles are cooked.

Or make it really easy like I do. Brown meat, onions, and garlic. Throw it into a crockpot with everything else. Cook on low heat for several hours until it is hot, of course (5 will do).

And I must truly be Dutch, since this observation came from one whose last name is immediately recognizably Dutch, she graduated from Calvin, married a Calvin grad who now works for Calvin, was president of her children's Christian school mothers' club, lives in the heart of Cutlerville, and has a regular feature on her blog entitled "Netherlands Nuesday."

And now I'm looking for a good recipe for split pea soup. . .

Kristi

Today marks the eighteenth anniversary of the death of my younger sister, Kristi. Kristi, just turned twenty years old in December 1989, was in a car accident when she was on her way home from Cedarville College for Christmas break. Complications set in, and she died in a hospital in Dayton, Ohio, a month and a day after her accident. Jon and I had moved to Grand Rapids by then, but I spent most of that month and a day following the accident with the rest of my family in Dayton. I had just returned to Grand Rapids on January 15, the day before she died. My poor dad had the unenviable task of calling to tell me that my sister was gone.

Kristi was a beautiful girl, the baby of our family. In true youngest child form, she was the family clown, and nothing has been quite as funny since the day of her accident. My family still laughs and enjoys life, and we're all grateful for what we have in each other and for the brief life of Kristi, but the valley of the shadow is close by--just a thought away.

Many things have happened in those eighteen years since Kristi died, and many people have come and gone. Katie, Jonathan, my niece Elizabeth, and nephew Garrett are the most notable additions--and how interesting that one that Kristi loved as a brother--Jon--has gone, and now Henry has come.

Reminders of Kristi are never far. Whenever I step into Katie's messy room (Kristi was definitely a messy), see her admiring herself in the mirror, hear her musical giggle, and watch her go out the door in the middle of January with shoes and no socks--Kristi comes quickly to mind.

A piano book sits on the piano in our living room, the very piano she and I both practiced on as girls; a Beethoven piece with the measures numbered in pencil inside and her name and high school on a label on the cover take me back to a day when Kristi called me, in tears, because a mean judge had been overly critical at music competition.

In a photo session during the holidays, Katie photographed her cousin Elizabeth--Kristi's niece--wearing the crown Kristi had won as our town's homecoming queen the summer before her accident. Kristi would have thoroughly enjoyed watching her nieces trying on her crown, formal dresses, and clothes.

A picture in my bedroom of two young girls--sisters--one a bride, the other the maid of honor, both with smiling eyes, one with dark hair and the other blonde, tells the story of a happy summer day when things were much simpler and life was much lighter.

During the Christmas season, I listened to a lovely soprano singing "I Know That My Redeemer Liveth" during the Messiah concerts, and remembered accompanying Kristi on that piece and then hearing another soprano sing it at her funeral.

After Kristi died, I read book after book, trying to reconcile this tragedy with my faith, with the God who gives and takes away. One of the books that stands out in my memory concluded that life is a gift--not something owed to us and certainly something to be treasured. My sister's life was a gift to her and to her family; she continues to enjoy that gift in the presence of the God who gave it to her, and one day again we will join her in celebrating the gift of life and the God who has given it. And I'm certain there will be singing and laughing.

Happy Birthday, Henry!

Unbelievable--the new man in my life not only has one of those dreaded, close-to-Christmas birthdays, it is the day after my dad's. And I will spend the rest of my life making sure that it isn't forgotten in the Christmas rush. Henry's birthday is definitely a day of celebration. And so here it is--my first birthday tribute to my fiance. (I really love typing that!)

1. His passion for God. One of the first things I knew was true of Henry was his love for God and his faithfulness to Him. We've had great theology conversations, and we've also had very down-to-earth talks about what it has meant for us to live out our faith in our lives. I'm still lobbying to come to his men's- only Bible study on Romans, but I don't think he's going to cave on that one.

2. He's a gentleman. Move over, Mr. Darcy! I have Henry, who, in all of our time together so far, has never failed to open a door for me, who brings me flowers (usually roses) every week, and helps me with my coat. He has always treated me like a lady, which makes me want to always behave like one (a good thing).

3. His musical ability. Early on when Henry and I were dating, a mutual friend told me that Henry had a great tenor voice, and while I knew from our conversations that he loved singing, I never really had an opportunity to hear him sing until last spring when we attended a conference together. I heard this amazing tenor voice during the congregational singing, and I kept turning my head to see if I could figure out where it was coming from. And then I realized--it was coming from Henry, right next to me. And I look forward to a future of singing with him at home, in church, and in choirs. I love it that we share this.

4. His love for simple pleasures. Going for a walk, looking at the moon, sitting by the lake watching ducks, and insects--Henry finds all of God's creation genuinely exciting and fascinating, which makes it exciting and fascinating to be with him.

5. His sense of romance. You'll just have to take my word on this one.

6. His love for Katie and Jonathan. He talks art with Katie, and I think he's using The Dangerous Book for Boys as an outline to bring Jonathan up to speed in "guy activities." He really understands and enjoys kids, and my two have learned this and know that he's a special person.

7. His kindness. Earlier in our relationship, I invited Henry over one Sunday evening. He couldn't come because he was having tea with an older lady in his church. And a couple of weeks ago when church was cancelled on a Sunday morning, he had quite a time helping an elderly lady get a prescription she needed. He can frequently be found visiting his sick friends from church, and he calls to check on them. He changes my light bulbs, shovels my walks, and is probably the nicest person I have ever known.

8. His great sense of humor and his appreciation of sarcasm. It's an essential at our house--sarcasm is just part of the fabric of our home. And here Henry fits right in. And it makes me feel good to know I've said something he finds funny and he laughs. It's a great laugh.

9. His integrity. Every word and action is carefully thought through, so that every word and action is meaningful and can be trusted.

10. He loves me and has asked me to marry him and has given me the most gorgeous engagement ring in the world (see December 24 post).

I am so blessed to have this wonderful man in my life! Happy birthday!

Happy Birthday, Dad!

My dad's birthday comes at what, unfortunately, is a time when it can easily slide through the cracks: December 22. We did actually celebrate his birthday on his birthday this year with dinner at LongHorn Restaurant, but with a poinsettia decorating his birthday cake, it was impossible not to think of that other big day that would soon be coming up. And so, here it is, December 26, and I just now have the opportunity to write his birthday blog posting. So here it is--the things I love most about my dad.

1. His love for and faithfulness to God. In word and deed, my dad has taught his children and grandchildren the importance of obedience to God. He taught us that it is important to understand what the Bible teaches and what we believe. It was from my dad that I first learned the doctrines of TULIP, setting me on the path of a Calvinistic faith from an early age.

2. His love for music. My dad loves to sing, so when his children showed an interest in music as well, he did all he could to support us. He taught me to be a good accompanist on the piano, and he made sure that I had excellent piano instruction all through high school. He would come home from working all day, pick me up, and then drive me to Bowling Green, Ohio, about a 45-minute drive one way, so that I could take lessons from instructors in Bowling Green State University's School of Music. And I still love playing the piano and singing today.

3. His thoughtfulness and kind treatment of others. My dad lives out his faith. He is always available to help someone in need, whether it's a struggling family member, a friend from church, or my kids and me. He may be replacing my furnace filter, driving an ill friend to an appointment, or making a color-coded schedule of Jonathan's classes for him to tape into his notebook. If there is something he can do, he will.

4. His good sense of humor and the way he makes us laugh (and takes it well). He teases Katie, spills food on his shirt at dinner, or plays his Taco Bell Taco Maker game, always making us laugh.

5. His strength. In a time of difficulty, there is something reassuring about having my dad around. In the brief time of my little sister's consciousness after her car accident, she was confused, in pain, and agitated at times. That was when we would call my dad in to calm her down, and it always worked.
He can also calm Jonathan like no one else. It's comforting to have someone with his strength around.

6. His sense of honesty and integrity. He has always set a great example of being truthful and fair with others.

7. His dedication and commitment to his family. After God, family comes next with my dad. He and my mom moved from the town where he had always lived in Ohio to Grand Rapids to be a support system for me, Katie, and Jonathan. And he's stepped up to be dad and grandpa at times for my kids. I love the special bond he and Jonathan, especially, share. And I love it that when Katie wants someone to teach her to drive, she turns to grandpa. He's definitely NOT the same man who taught me to drive.

8. He makes the best homemade ice cream in the world. Ice cream parties used to be a more common occurrence when I was a child, but I have many fond memories of family get-togethers where my dad supplied the big treat: homemade vanilla ice cream.

9. His emphasis on excellence. I'll never forget a conversation I had with my dad back in high school, on one of those long trips back from piano lessons. We were talking about my future, and at the time I was thinking of majoring in music. He told me that Christians truly had something to make music about, and that they should be the best that they could be in their service to God. It's stuck with me all these years.

10. He can fix anything. Or if he can't, he at least knows what is wrong and what to do about it.

Happy birthday to my excellent dad!

Come, Ye Thankful People

I love Thanksgiving. As our chapel speaker, Bill Crowder, pointed out today, Thanksgiving, unlike Christmas and Easter, is one of those holidays that secularists just can't mess up for us. Tomorrow, our family will go to church in the morning, and then come home and make some final food preparations before going to my parents' house for dinner. This year should be a special celebration, with my brother Tim and his family, my cousin Joy and her husband and two-year-old twin boys (adorable!), and my parents all gathering together. We'll eat the traditional favorites, like broccoli and cheese casserole, pecan pie, and the Selden stuffing.

And somewhere along the line, probably during dinner, we'll go around the table and name the things for which we are thankful. In a school newsletter this week, Jonathan's principal, Mr. Netz, suggested that everyone name five things for which they are thankful. So to honor family tradition and Mr. Netz, here are five things for which I am full of gratitude (not in any real order here).

1. The catechism writers said it best, and I am thankful for the heritage of words full of truth and beauty that they have left us: That I am not my own, but belong--body and soul, in life and in death--to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ. He has fully paid for all of my sins with his precious blood, and has set me free from the tyranny of the devil. He also watches over me in such a way that not a hair can fall from my head without the will of my Father in heaven: in fact, all things must work together for my salvation. Because I belong to him, Christ, by his Holy Spirit, assures me of eternal life and makes me whole-heartedly willing and ready from now on to live for him.

2. My family: Katie and Jonathan are my blessings from the Lord. It is a joy to see Him working in their hearts and lives, to hear them laughing, to see them studying, to watch them with their friends, to talk with them, pray with them, correct them at times, and to enjoy their love. My parents are a priceless treasure, a godly example of love in action. What a blessing they are to Katie, Jonathan, and me.

3. A new person in my life to love: Yet another demonstration of God's generosity to me, and an example of how He surprises us sometimes when we aren't expecting it with His greatest gifts. This is another example of how God is able to give "more abundantly than all that we ask or think." What an amazing thing for God to place a person in my life who is so special that I wouldn't have even known to ask for someone with his excellent qualities.

4. My church and pastor: Again, what a great blessing to be a living member of a community chosen for eternal life and united in true faith. It is a happy thing each week to go to church with the expectation that I will hear preaching about Christ and Him crucified, and to have that expectation met. Our pastor faithfully opens the Word of God to the congregation, and we know that Word has been delivered in wisdom and boldness. And this evening I was reminded of our pastor's care for the flock when I walked into the church to pick Katie up from catechism and saw her and another young man having a great conversation with their pastor about some important issues. He gave his time happily to discuss important matters with these two teens.

5. My job and my co-worker friends: What a rare thing to have a job where I have the opportunity to do the things I love and use the talents I have been blessed with. And I couldn't ask for a better group of people to work with; they are far more than co-workers. We are truly a team, and we all are friends, brothers and sisters in Christ, who work together. The special people I work with everyday have become such an important part of my life, and now I find it hard to imagine what life would be like without them.

6. (I know, I said five!) My friends, some of whom read this blog. You are all treasures, and I so value your encouragement, the time you give to me to talk and laugh and share, and the prayers you offer up on my behalf. You are among His "countless gifts of love."

Labor Day 2007

Internet issues, children now using the computer to complete homework assignments, and just plain busyness are detracting from blog time. But there are no shortages of adventures to share on Head and Heart.

Labor Day 2007 found the Seldens and Henry seeking for a meaningful and entertaining way to close out this "last day" of the summer. And it was a beautiful day, so our requirements were twofold: something outside, and something involving water. I proposed canoeing, one of those things I had never done but always thought would be fun to try, and Henry quickly agreed that this would be a fun activity.

Henry reserved two canoes for us at the Indian Valley Campground on the Thornapple River in Middleville. Immediately Jonathan suggested that "the boys should go together and the girls should go together." Little did he know, however, that that was not the plan. Henry--the only one of us with canoe experience--asserted another strategy: he and I in one, and Katie and Jonathan in the other.

While I really liked this scheme (it's so nice having another grown-up and not being outnumbered by the children), I was a little nervous about it. Katie and Jonathan are not known for their outdoor skills or their ability to work together, so I packed a couple of beach towels thinking that the best case scenario would be that only the two of them might need them.

We arrived at the campground and were transported by van to the launch on the Thornapple River in Middleville. Among our company was a man who seemed to know everything there is to know about canoeing, fishing, and just life in general. And he happily shared his wisdom during the entire van ride. We learned that he was looking forward to fishing for salmon later this fall when water levels hopefully would rise (more on him later).

We took our place at the end of the line and waited our turn for our canoes to be launched. I think that Jonathan must have said at least thirty-seven times, "I think an adult should be in each canoe," even though this adult would not have been much help. Eventually I threatened him with punishment if he said it one more time . . .

What a lovely time! With my experienced, gentleman canoe chaffeur, Henry, taking over the steering at the back of the canoe, I have nothing but enthusiasm for my first canoe experience. The whole trip back to the campground took about two and a half hours, and I can't think of a more pleasant way to spend a beautiful Labor Day afternoon,floating down the river and enjoying wildlife and scenery.

While Katie and Jonathan got off to a bit of a rough start, spending a great deal of time on either one bank or the other, they quickly learned how to maneuver the canoe off of sandbars, tree branches, and whatever other stuff was in the river to catch them up. Even though Henry and I quickly floated ahead of them, we knew they were okay because we could hear them screaming at each other for most of the first part of the trip. At one point we came upon Mr. Outdoors Salmon Expert wading with his companion in the shallows. Henry (jokingly) asked, "Find any salmon?" Not only does Mr. Outdoors Salmon know everything, he has absolutely no sense of humor, responding, in all seriousness, "There aren't any salmon in this river!" We were thankful to be enlightened.

Toward the end of our journey, we came upon some beautiful homes along the river. We noted the decks, the screened-in porches, and the outdoor swings and commented that it would be so lovely to be able to live along the peaceful river and enjoy the quietness and serenity of it all. This was followed by further screaming from Katie and Jonathan, Katie because there was a "gigantic" spider in the canoe, Jonathan insisting that it was not at all harmful and refusing to kill one of God's creatures and telling Katie that she needed to paddle and steer the canoe, and Katie insisting she would not paddle unless Jonathan killed the spider. It was a good time.

And it was a good time, creating some fun memories. Katie feels that she channeled her inner Pocahontas, and Jonathan had something interesting to share at school on Tuesday about what he did on Labor Day. And I got to enjoy the ride in the company of one of my favorite people, who also had a good time. We may have found a new Labor Day tradition.

Sixteen Candles

So many major life events, so little time to blog. But last Thursday, July 26, Katie turned sixteen. Yes, the Disney princess cake pictured here was her choice, and upon arrival, each of her friends was presented with a crown to wear for the evening. And the presents included things like a magic wand/light-up crown set and Disney princess balloons. So in tribute to my sixteen-year-old, here are ten things I love about Katie.

1. Her red hair: Wherever I would take Katie when she was little, inevitably someone would ask, "Where did you get your red hair?" And then there would be the silly jokes about the mailman. So when the checkout lady at Meijer asked the two-year-old Katie where she got her red hair, she was pretty surprised by the toddler's quick answer: "from God." Of course--why didn't I think of that sooner? Accurate and to the point.

2. Her freckles

3. Her willingness to accompany me to various movies, concerts, and events through the years since I didn't have a grown-up to go with. I don't think she minded most of the time.

4. Her quirky, but often hilarious, sense of humor

5. This one should be up higher, probably, but her genuine faith in God and her desire to live a life of obedience to Him

6. Her awesome French accent: She has taken French at school for the last two years, and while the written aspect of the language has been a challenge for her, she does have a killer accent

7. Her writing ability

8. Her giggle

9. Her strange, but interesting, sense of style

10. Her love for drama, music, and the arts: Where did that come from?

Happy Birthday, Katie! I can see the fingerprints of God when I look at you!

Of Boys and Men and Dads

One thing that has been particularly difficult for me as a single mom has been trying to reconcile God's loving providence for my family with the fact that both of my children are growing up fatherless. I have never had any doubt that God's ideal for the family is both a father and mother, with the father filling the headship role. I've never felt comfortable being the head of our home, and yet I've had to be just that. And I've always been aware that I could give my children most things that they need, but I've never been, nor ever will be, capable of being a father to them. And while my own father has stepped in and been an amazing grandfather to both of my children (I couldn't have asked for anything more) and has an especially close relationship with Jonathan, he still isn't a dad to them.

And I've seen both children suffer for that in different ways. And while I know that a girl needs a father for some important reasons, I've always felt my Jonathan suffered more. The only male in the home, he couldn't have gotten a more girly girl, completely uninterested in all things athletic, don't know how to use tools and don't care, I love purses and shoes, mom. He's had no one to play catch with, to take him golfing, or even when he was younger yet old enough to understand that he was a boy--no one to take him to that most mysterious of all places closed to females: the men's room.

So Al Mohler's blog was particularly interesting this week, as he addressed the issues of "The Disappearing Father" and then "The Dangerous Book for Boys." Mohler reports that researchers in Great Britain are on the verge of creating sperm cells from bone marrow that would allow women to conceive without men. In some ways, artificial insemination is allowing women to have their own families without men. It's frightening to think of a society of children raised without fathers--especially since some of those children will be men who could potentially become fathers. As a woman who has been raising two children for over ten years without a husband/father, I've seen the challenges and have tried to compensate by exposing my children to strong, godly men where I've had the opportunity. Probably lesbian couples or women who just want to do this thing on their own won't be that conscientious. It's scary. If there's a shortage of strong men now, what will a generation of children who have been intentionally raised without the participation of a father be like?

Mohler followed up his frightening look at the future of families with an article about a new book for boys entitled The Dangerous Book for Boys. The book was originally sold in Great Britain last year, and it will be offered in the United States this year just in time for summer. The publisher hopes to sell four million copies in the States. This book comes at an interesting time--I was just having a conversation recently with my favorite male friend, who was telling me he missed the days when it was legal to burn the trash. Apparently it was one chore he and his brother were happy to take on, and then I remembered that my own brother had been very quick to accept the task of burning the trash. My friend explained that the slight element of danger involved made this activity much more than just a chore--it was an adventure. I explained that the danger of it all was exactly why I was glad that it was now illegal and that probably the number one reason I never took up smoking was my fear of matches and all things fire related.

My own assessment of trash burning reveals that yet again I do not understand the needs of boys-becoming-men (what a shock!). One Wall Street Journal writer reporting on this book explains: "The unapologetic message is that boys need a certain amount of danger and risk in their lives, and that there are certain lessons that need to be passed down from father to son, man to man." In fact, the authors believe that the book has been successful because our culture is overprotective, and so boys aren't learning about taking risks. Mild injuries are good for them; apparently if we don't let our boys take these mild risks, they'll be out taking other kinds of risks like walking on train tracks.

So what do boys learn about in this book? Apparently necessary boy things like reading cloud formations, making batteries, constructing the best paper airplane in the world, how to tie certain kinds of knots, and even how to talk to and treat girls. The authors give boys this sage advice: Girls "do not get quite as excited by the use of urine as a secret ink as boys do." And while I, as a girl, feel a little disgusted by this, I'm also kind of intrigued. But good advice...

Anyway, I'm looking forward to seeing this book in stores. I think both Jonathan and I have a lot to learn.

Mother-Daughter Bonding

This was a night that Katie and I will always remember. I know this will probably come as a shock to you, dear readers, but I was (emphasis on the was) a Spiderman fan--until tonight. I'm not usually excited about action/adventure/superhero movies, but I've really enjoyed the nerdy, but always sweet Peter Parker. And as far as superhero movies go, Spiderman 2 was intelligent, insightful--almost literary. And Katie felt the same way. So we had eagerly awaited the opening of Spiderman 3, and tonight was the night. And even though the movie was less than intelligent, insightful--almost literary, we certainly got our eight dollars' worth.

We settled into our seats, and eagerly awaited the start of the movie. The theater was not overly crowded, so we had plenty of room. The previews began, and Katie and I both murmured, "I love the previews." And we do. When the previews for Pirates of the Carribean came on, we noticed a little boy several rows up raising his arms in the air. Katie and I smiled and noted how cute it was that he was so excited for Pirates, and yet the arm waving continued for the next two hours. I guess he was excited about life in general.

The previews ended, and we settled in for the movie, but then we were treated to a live version of the manager giving the speech about turning off the cell phones, no text messaging, etc. We both thought this was a little strange, but the waving-arms kid continued to be excited.

I had read a couple of reviews of the movie, and so I was aware that this third installment had not achieved the greatness of the second movie. And yet to see it all unfolding on the big screen was a necessary experience in order to appreciate just how bad this movie was. From the first few notes of MJ's singing debut on Broadway (was Kirsten Dunst trying to sing badly because the critics would pan MJ's performance--if so, she deserves an Oscar); to Peter's strange transformation into what Katie says is an "emo" style with hair hanging strangely in his face and moves that would seem to belong in Saturday Night Fever; to the bizarre villain Sandman (which resulted in the ever memorable line, "Look out!" It's the Sandman!" to which I mentally replied, What's he going to do? Put them all to sleep?". When he caught on fire, my intelligent daughter acurately predicted that one strategy would be to turn him into glass and break him. I see film writing in her future.

And yet with all of this, the audience provided yet more entertainment. About halfway through the movie, a man in the row behind us started snoring loudly. And he just kept on. The teenage couple sitting directly in front of him was annoyed. In an attempt to arouse the sleeper, the young guy slammed his coat down on the chair. The sleeper moved a bit, but continued on. Finally, the guy (more a hero to me now than Spidey) yelled loudly, "Dude, wake up!" And he did--briefly. But the Sandman must have attacked, because soon the theater was resounding with his snores. Young guy finally got the manager, who spoke to snoring man, who didn't snore the rest of the movie.

At one point, we had excited boy up front, snoring man behind us to the right, and then a little kid started crying behind us to the left. Katie then uttered the funniest line of the night (which, sadly I can't repeat here--but rest assured, it wasn't profane or obscene), which sent us both into that laughter that you often experience in church when you're a little kid and you absolutely MAY NOT laugh. Tears were running down our faces as we painfully restrained ourselves.

Peter Parker poignantly reminded us at the end of the movie that we can always choose to do right (I'm not sure how theologically accurate that one is), and Katie and I heaved a sigh of relief as we headed for--where else?--the ladies' room. And to top everything off, in the one cubicle that I chose of how many? twenty? the toilet had overflowed and, of course, I was wearing sandals.

I can't think of a better way to spend Mother's Day Eve. I can hear us in Mother's Days to come: "Remember when we went to see Spiderman 3?"

In Memory

Today is the eleventh anniversary of the death of Jonathan Selden, my late husband and Katie and Jonathan's dad. He died after a year-and-a-half battle with leukemia at the age of thirty-five. The following is an excerpt from a journal that he kept during his illness, and he wrote these words on December 17, 1994, just four days after learning of his diagnosis:

After [the doctor who had informed me of my illness] left my thoughts returned to Annette and our children. I think of the covenant promises, I think of the promise to Israel of living long in the land. I think of the Psalmist, in Psalm 127 for example, describing many children as a blessing from the Lord. I think of the many references to "your children's children." I also remember the verse from the book of Hebrews, one that captured my attention since my college days, "without the shedding of blood there is no remission of sin." The doctor said that my singular goal was remission. Thankfully, through the shedding of Christ's blood I have already, before the foundations of the world were laid, received remission for my sin. "I will praise the Lord with my mouth, with all that is within me I will praise His wonderful name."

Before ever this problem of leukemia began, God had already prepared for me a solution. Nevertheless, I must get through this problem, this leukemia, this cancer. I must cling to the promises of my solution, my Redeemer, of the remission of all my sins.

Not having been brought up in the study of the Reformed catechism my memory cannot easily serve me with large portions of its comforting content. Yet there is one section of this catechism which is both part and parcel, theme and content, form and function for the entire Heidelberg Catechism, question and answer of Lord's Day One, that I freely recall at this moment. And it is truly a comfort to me in my time of need.

Q. What is your only comfort in life and death?

A. That I am not my own, but belong with body and soul, both in life and in death, to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ.

He has fully paid for all my sins with His precious blood, and has set me free from all the power of the devil.

He also preserves me in such a way that without the will of my heavenly Father not a hair can fall from my head; indeed all things must work together for my salvation.

Therefore, by His Holy Spirit He also assures me of eternal life and makes me heartily willing and ready from now on to live for Him.

What Does a Biblical Relationship Look Like?

It's an interesting place to be--this singleness as an adult. Especially as an adult with children. And so whenever the subject of dating comes up in a newsletter, a new book, in an article, or just in daily conversation, I'm interested. I'm also interested because I have a fifteen-year-old girl who thinks it sounds like a fun thing to do, but I haven't really had to deal with dating as a parent--only as a single woman trying to find her way.

It's not an easy thing to master--this dating thing. Conducted unwisely or carelessly, it results in far more pain than pleasure. And I've often thought that there must be a better way. So an article that I found today at www.Boundless.org shares some of the conclusions that I have drawn based on good and bad experiences, a lot of thinking, and a lot of reflection on just how God does want us to conduct ourselves with members of the opposite sex when we aren't married. The article, "What Does a Biblical Relationship Look Like?" by Scott Croft, an elder at the Capitol Hill Baptist Church, contrasts the differences between courtship and dating.

Croft defines courtship and dating, and then he discusses three broad differences beween what he calls biblical courtship and modern dating. Courtship, he says, begins when a single man approaches a single woman by going through the woman's father (or appropriate authority) and then conducts the relationship with the woman under that authority. Courtship has marriage as its goal. Dating, on the other hand, begins when either a man or woman initiates a relationship, with more-than-friends as the goal. The relationship is conducted outside of any authority. It may or may not have marriage as a goal.

First, Croft sees a difference in motive. The motive behind courtship is to find a spouse. A man initiates a relationship with a woman because he believes it is possible he will marry her; the courtship is to determine whether that belief is correct. Dating, on the other hand, may not (and often doesn't) have marriage as a goal at all. Recreation and fun are often the motivation. So in modern dating, the more experience a person gathers is good, because by trial and error we discover the spouse who is right for us. In this approach, people often become physically and emotionally intimate with many people before settling down with one. Croft, who teaches on this subject in his church, advises singles that if they cannot see themselves happily married in less than one year, then they are not ready to date. (And while I agree that a prolonged process is certainly not ideal, I'd be reluctant to be so assertive with a time line such as "less than a year." But I think his point may be the one I've made with my daughter, that dating is for those who are prepared to be married within a reasonable amount of time.)

The second contrast Croft draws is in mindset. Modern dating is selfish in nature--the whole process is about me. People approach members of the opposite sex asking, "Will this person make me happy? Have I done as well as I can do--or might someone better come along? What is the chemistry between us like?" Of course the biblical motivation for marriage calls for sacrifice (cf. Philippians 2:3, Ephesians 5:25). A man should be looking for a godly woman as defined by Scripture, one that he loves and is attracted to, but instead of asking, "How can I find the one for me?" he should be asking, "How can I be the one for her?"

Croft's third contrast is concerned with method, and he sums it up this way: In dating, intimacy precedes commitment; in courtship, commitment precedes intimacy. He addresses both emotional and physical intimacy here. In modern dating, he sees couples acting like they are married to see if, in fact, they want to commit to marriage. They share their deepest thoughts and feelings with each other, spend lots of time alone together, and become physically intimate. If it all works well, the couple gets married. But if it doesn't work out, the couple breaks up. And there can be several broken relationships before a person arrives at a lasting one. The goal with dating is to gather as much information and experience with a person as possible to ensure the right decision is being made. But this implies a marriage-level commitment where one does not exist. And much damage is done and many are deeply hurt by this type of relationship.

With a courtship, commitment precedes intimacy. In 1 Timothy 5:1-2, Paul tells Timothy to treat younger women as sisters, with all purity. In this model, the goal of spending time together is to get to know one another so that the couple can make a wise decision regarding marriage, and conversation topics and activities should all have this in view. In relating to one another before marriage, men should not treat women as though they are their wives, physically or emotionally. The end result of this type of relationship is that women are treated with respect and are honored, even as they are being pursued.

Most of us date as young people who have much to learn. We often make mistakes as we grow into our adult lives and take more and more responsibility for decision making from our parents. There is a greater cost to some mistakes than others, and probably the costliest mistakes of all occur in our relationships with members of the opposite sex.

I've been in the unique position of being an adult navigating the dating world, and at one time, I believed that the modern approach to dating was the only way--a "necessary evil" for those who hoped to be married. I was aware that a few lonely voices were crying out that the courtship model was the way to go, but it sounded old-fashioned and silly to me--way beyond what was required. And having experienced both the modern dating approach and the courtship approach, I have to say that I've found courtship to be wiser and more meaningful than any dating relationship I have ever experienced. It's the way I'll be encouraging both my children to take, and hopefully there will be other parents out there who will be encouraging their children in that same way.