Some of my earliest memories are of church. Now, they are not always of being in worship, as Messiah became my home away from home, but the memories are of church nonetheless. I have always been a strong believer in children being in church, hearing the liturgy and hymns, but I never realized how strong I felt until I had my own child.
I was extremely lucky that Hans was given a wonderful vicarage at Emmanuel Lutheran Church in Terre Haute, IN. The congregation simply loved children. I tribute this to their pastor, Rev. Phil Meyer, for not only loving children himself, but also for his love of hearing children in the service. John wasn't even one year old when we left Emmanuel, but he sure knew how to make noises! While I still had to take him out every so often, his little squeaks or the loud sucking of his pacifier didn't bother the people around me because they knew having children in church was a blessing.
Both Hans and I grew up attending church every Sunday. Both of our mothers struggled singly, as both of our fathers are pastors, to teach us how to sit, listen and be quiet. Hans was a very laid back kid, and while I haven't talked to Solveig about this, I would bet he was pretty good in church from the beginning. I, on the otherhand, was terrible. It was a constant struggle to keep me quiet and I have heard there were many times I had to be taken out and spanked for my behavior. My mom told me once that just when she was at the end of her rope and asking herself why she did this to herself every Sunday she heard me sing in a grocery store "...and to the Holy Ghost." And, there it is, right there is the reason she struggled. Right there is the reason she herself didn't get to hear a full sermon for months, if not years.
We now live in the age of nurseries and children's church. I have been to some lutheran churches that have tons of kids, yet they are really not seen or heard from during the service. What is that teaching your children? When we moved back to Fort Wayne for Hans' final year of seminary John was not old enough to make it through the entire service, so he always started out in church and then ended up in the nursery. However, it didn't take long before John put two and two together and figured out that if he made noise in church he could go play with the toys. I find it really important to point out that while I feel children should be in church, I also understand that it is a process that won't happen overnight. That being said, I was very excited to find that Mt. Calvary didn't really have a nursery so John would not be enticed by toys and maybe sit a little longer in church. Just like me, John is very active, and it took a couple of months, a few tears (for both of us) and several spankings, but my bright eyed, strong-willed, loud, active kid sits through church. He not only sits through church, he knows when we are suppose to sit and stand, when to say amen and even sings some of the liturgy; although he much prefers singing the pastor's part. I can tell you with out a doubt it was all worth it, and I would do it again, which is good because in a few months I'll be starting the process again with Gus.
So, to all the moms out there struggling with this right now, keep it up, you're doing the best thing for your kid. And, to all the people who don't currently have little ones running around, remember to be patient; these children will grow to be faithful and active members of their congregations.
Here is a video of John singing a hymn he learned at VBS.
WAY back in 2009, when I was the mom of one feisty 2 year old and a 4 month old, I wrote a post about children in church. Now I'm the mom of a know-it-all 6 year old, a painfully stubborn 4 year old and a cute, but manipulative 2 year old. Almost 4 years later the original post is still accurate, but I feel the need to add to it.
I wrote that article to shed light to what parents of small children go through in church and encourage them to keep going. I was also telling myself to keep trucking along. I have to report that it does get easier. Gus didn't throw nearly as many fits, or have to be taken out as often as John. And Anders, well, he's just Anders and he does things his way. He's been somewhere in the middle. I may not fully hear every sermon, but I hardly ever have to leave in the middle of church. My former troublemaker John even follows along with the service and sings the liturgy and hymns with gusto and a very passionate vibrato. This makes for one happy mom.
But as my children grow and I become more aware of other people and families than just the three little guys sitting next to me, I realize that it's not as smooth sailing from here as I thought it would be. I'm finding that children as young as 1st grade are enrolled in sports and leisure activities that take place on Sunday mornings. And while I can't much fault the parents that have never been in church for making such a horrible decision, I can ask the parent who does attend church, 'Do you realize what you're teaching your kids?'
If you ask many regularly attending seniors in your average congregation, they'll tell you that their grown children don't attend church. While some Christians like to blame an increasingly immoral and unchristian society for this decline, I would venture to guess that many of the adults that do not regularly attend church were never taught, through word or action, that church is important. When we as parents allow our kids to miss church for games or competitions, we are teaching our children that those things are more important. And while we may initially tell ourselves that this is a one time occurrence, it more often than not becomes the norm. Even in my small and relatively conservative area, there are at least 3 organizations I know of that regularly hold sporting events every Sunday morning. The saddest part about this is that I really think if all of the church-going families would take a stand and say that their children would not attend events until after church, then most organizations would accommodate. Parents don't mind making a big stink about something when it comes to their kids' best interest. If they think their children are being shorted on playing time or being unfairly treated by coaches, they will not give up trying to right those wrongs. But when the schedule denies their children the ability to hear God's word on Sunday morning, apparently that's not something worth making a big stink about.
I want my kids to be able to pursue their dreams. If John's goal is to become a pro-golfer, then I will support him in every way I can. But I want to support him in the right way. I want to support him by teaching him that certain things are more important than golf, that we would have nothing without God. I want him to know that the first commandment says "You shall have no other gods." And that means that golf, dance, sleep, practice, games, hanging out with friends, vacation, and the world's biggest sale all come after we put God first.
Parents often think that, since kids are young, they can do these other things now and start attending church later. They have plenty of time to get involved in church next season or next year. That is such a farce! If you, as their parent, protector, provider, and teacher don't tell them and show them how important church is now, how can you expect them to suddenly know that church is important when they become adults?
The next time you gather your children together on Sunday morning to attend your son's football game, or daughter's dance recital, remember the elderly couples in congregations that constantly struggle with sadness that their children no longer attend church. There is a better way. And while there are no guarantees that your children will never turn away from the Gospel, teaching them early and often that church is important will help to mold your child and their faith.
And if they do still turn away, as so many have, remember that we have a Good Shepherd who never stops searching for His lost lambs, no matter how long or how far they've strayed.
I am constantly reminded in countless ways how important my husband's job, as a pastor, is and how important our roles are as parents. Today I am reminded in a big way just how important his job, our roles as parents, god-parents, and as Christians really are. While I don't want to go into the specifics of this jaunting reminder I will simply say that we have experienced a death in our extended family. While the death alone is a lot to bear the thought of his eternal rest weighs heavily on our hearts. I pray every day that my children, nieces and god-children grow and remain in the faith. While I have no control over what my children do when they grow up and leave my house I have every bit of control over where they are and what they are doing now. On Sunday mornings we are in church and then in Sunday school. Every night before we go to bed we say our prayers. We are constantly talking about Jesus. Not in a preachy way, but in a loving way. Now that John has started school we have had several conversations about not saying "Oh my god" or why a kid in his class won't tell him he is forgiven when he has apologized. The world is ever changing and always sinful. We don't take our kids to church and sunday school or pray and read them Bible stories to make them better people. We do these things because we love our children and we want them to remain in the faith so that when they die (hopefully after living a long life) they will to go to Heaven.
I think it is very easy to put things off for another day. We've all done this. Being a pastor's daughter and now a pastor's wife I hear all kinds of excuses as to why people aren't in church. "I'm just not good about attending in the summer." "My kids just won't sit through church." "I have a new baby and I don't want have him be in that germy environment." "I worked all week and I'm just tired." I could go on and on. I'm not saying that you are not a Christian if you make these excuses and don't go to church. But I find these excuses tend to be a slippery slope. I've also known a few families that regularly attend while their children are in confirmation and then the whole family seems to drop off after the kid is confirmed. What was the point in going through two or three years of classes? I am saddened that some of my fellow confirmands don't feel the need to attend church, pray or read their Bibles anymore. Most of them have parents that have also stopped going.
Just like with everything else you teach your children, being a Christian is best shown by example. If it is important to you it will be important to them. Most kids will go through some kind of phase when they are in high school or college where they don't attend regularly. Rather than just telling yourself that they will return to church after they aren't so busy or after they've graduated, why don't you talk to your kids about it? I am not claiming to have all of the answers, but when it is time for my children to leave this world, I want to know I'll see them again someday.
So take the time now. Hug your kids and your family. Thank God for them. Talk to them. Read to them. Bring them to church. Show them it is important. It may be hard, you may spend most of the time in the nursery with a crying kid, or have a teenager that is upset with you because you made him get up early. But it is worth it. I am not at all a touchy, feely, lay it on thick kind of Christian. But nurturing your faith is important. Remember this the next time you feel you can start attending church later, or you shy away from an unbeliever asking a question about your faith. People die everyday...and they always think they had more time.
John is learning how to be respectful. For some reason it is a lot harder to be respectful to his parents than it is to be in church. I guess I would rather him be more respectful in church than at home. Both boys just love their dad and run to see him when we get to church on Sunday mornings. It is a good thing we get there early enough for them to see him before he vests or you would see two boys running towards the altar to give their father a hug in the middle of the opening hymn. One Sunday morning John was following Hans around doing pre-service duties and was apparently being pretty loud. Hans had warned him a few times to keep quiet, but John still had to be pulled into the office. Unaware of what was going on all I heard was John saying, "But, I want to be respectful. I will be respectful. Let me be respectful."
For those of you who attend church with small children or remember attending church with your small children you know it isn't an easy task. It also becomes infinitely harder when there is only one parent with two hands. John has been sitting through church for over a year now with no problems. It took a long time to get to this point and he still can be distracted...he is only 4. Gus is now reaching the age that he needs to be taken out every now and then. This is really only because he loves his dad so much that it hurts him to see his father, but not be able to go to him. If Hans gets too close it sets off a fit in Gus and I have to take him out until he calms down. The times when I have to leave John has wanted to stay. So, John stays sitting in the front row. This actually surprised me and made me extremely proud. He loves participating even more than he loves playing in the nursery. It is helpful to only have one kid going through the 'I don't have to sit still or be quiet' phase at one time.
As I said earlier, John can get distracted. Lately, there has been a four year old little girl that has come to sit with us every week. They usually arrive after the service has begun and she manages to wiggle away from her grandmother and sit next to John. I love that there is another kid at church, but this has proven to be very difficult for John. The two can get to playing and get loud. After the first week of her sitting with us, I had a talk with John and told him that he still needed to be good in church. The next week he told the little girl, "We have to behave in church, that means no talking and screaming." When she didn't calm down John came and sat between me and the end of the pew. She was upset by this and started throwing a fit to which John replied, "I'm not getting in trouble for you." I am unbelievably proud that my 4 year old not only listens but wants to behave and be respectful in church. He knows there is plenty of time to play with her after church. While he may not make the same decision every week I am extremely happy in the choices he made this week.
Hans wrote this after a recent experience with a young man dying of brain cancer. It is a wonderful story. This event happened Friday evening, November 13, 2009.
***Update*** Dominick passed away Sunday morning, November 15, 2009. Dominick's family is in our prayers. We rejoice as he is now with our Father in Heaven and suffers no more.
Dominick
Tonight, I baptized Dominick with water from a macaroni and cheese stained cereal bowl as about 25 people gathered around his bed in the 11 x 10 living room of his home.
Dominick is dying of brain cancer. I met him three days ago, after one of my members, who is very close with his family, asked me to pray with Dominick, his wife and their children.
When I first walked into their house, I was immediately shocked by the man's appearance. Dominick is extremely emaciated, to the point of looking like the concentration camp survivors whose pictures I'll never forget seeing in middle school history books. A tumor is bulging out of his forehead. He is unable to speak, but can answer 'yes' and 'no' questions by squeezing your hand.
After talking and praying with his family the other day, I asked his wife if Dominick had been baptized. She said he had been, at least she thought his mom had said that he had been. But upon further investigation with Dominick's mother, apparently this turned out not to be the case.
And so, tonight, I read to the gathering of his friends and family from Romans 6. I talked to them about Christ's death and resurrection, about our Lord's mercy and forgiveness, and about the new life that He gives in His saving waters. I prayed with them. I went through the baptismal rite as Dominick's children, his wife, his parents and his friends wept. I held Dominck's hand and told him to squeeze mine for 'yes' when I asked him if he believed in the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit. And after that, I baptized Dominick with water from a macaroni and cheese stained cereal bowl as about 25 people gathered around his bed in the 11 x 10 living room of his home.
And in that 11 x 10 room, the poor, miserable sinner that I am, so unworthy of Christ’s call to be a pastor, I was blessed to watch as the devil was crushed underneath the weight of our Lord’s forgiveness.
I was blessed to watch as a man, dead in sin, was given new life in the waters of Holy Baptism. I was blessed to watch as that same man’s dying flesh was given the right to rest in hope because it has now been united to the resurrected flesh of Jesus Christ.
I was blessed to watch as Christ’s Word of hope strengthened those children who have been watching their father die before their young eyes. I was blessed to watch as Christ’s promise of the Resurrection refused to let the devil and his despair penetrate those children’s tears.
I was blessed to hear a mother, a woman who has never set foot in a sacramental church in her life, confess the truth of this Sacrament when she comforted her children with the words, “its ok. Daddy’s saved now. Daddy’s saved now.”
Tonight, I baptized Dominick with water from a macaroni and cheese stained cereal bowl as about 25 people gathered around his bed in the 11 x 10 living room of his home. And in the midst of such great humility, in the midst of such great suffering, in the midst of such great heartache and fear and pain, Jesus Christ spoke His Word of forgiveness. He spoke His Word of mercy, of hope, of glory. And I can’t even begin to describe how blessed I am to have witnessed this miracle.
Hans and I have an unusual story, one that our fathers take great pride in because they believe they are the reason Hans and I met, fell in love, and got married. I hate to admit it, but had our fathers not conspired together in October 2004, there probably wouldn't be a Hans and Katie.
John and Glenn (our fathers) were seminary classmates at Concordia Theological Seminary. They were part of the last class to begin in Springfield, IL and after a semester the seminary transferred to the Fort Wayne, IN location where it still remains today.
Never being closer than 940 miles after seminary, our families barely knew each other. One summer when I was about 12 or 13 our family passed through Zionsville on the way to New York and stayed with the Fienes for a night or two. Hans and I have totally different recollections of this encounter. I remember hanging out with his sister, Andrina, and youngest brother, Christian. We walked around downtown Zionsville, went to the pool and various other things. I don't remember Hans being with us at all. I remember Hans though. I'm not sure when I first met him, but I remember thinking he was so cute. I remember going to a church picnic our last day there and watching him in a play the youth put on, he was a king. I remember his floppy hair. I guess that because I don't remember him being around, I've just made myself recall that he spent those two days ignoring me. Hans doesn't remember the play, or why he wasn't with us at the pool, but his story is that we spent a couple of hours talking on his front porch and that he liked me very much. Really? Could I really have forgotten that the boy I remember everything else about actually sat on his front porch and talked to me? Where was I? I'm not sure what we did the rest of the summer, but I remember being teased about Hans the rest of the vacation.
But, life goes on. And on it went. From time to time I would remember that summer, but to be quite honest, I don't even remember half of my boyfriends names, if I remember them at all, so I didn't spend my days or nights focusing on what Hans was doing. I can also assure you he did not spend the next 10 years pining over me either. Hans spent the next 10 years falling in and out of love with several girls, while I spent the next 10 years getting bored with my boyfriends and letting them go after 2 weeks or so.
Now, let's fast forward to October 2004. There was a Free Conference held in Chicago that year and my dad presented a paper. John was also going to the conference and convinced my dad to fly to Indianapolis instead of Chicago and they could drive together using the 3 hour drive to catch up. It was during that drive that our fathers talked about their children. Evidently they felt Hans and I would be a perfect match. I'm not sure what brought them to this conclusion. I had been living on my own for a few years, going to college, teaching dance and managing a bridal store. Hans had finished undergrad, took a year off to decide what to do, and then enrolled at the seminary. I didn't like lovey dovey guys who called all the time and, by all accounts, that is what Hans was. But, our dads just knew it would work, so they hatched a plan to get Hans to do a summer vicarage at Messiah, their thought being that, while Hans was in Texas for a whole summer, we would get to know each other and fall in love.
After my dad returned from Chicago, three days hadn't passed before he told me about Hans. I then continued to hear about Hans everyday, at least that's what it felt like. I was dating someone else at the time, nothing too serious, and I just didn't want my dad hooking me up. Plus, and this is a big plus, Hans was in the seminary. I've been telling myself since I was in middle school that I would NEVER marry a pastor. I didn't really have a good reason for this, but I kept telling my parents it was because I didn't want my kids to have to go through what I went through. Looking back, I didn't really go through that much as a kid. It was adulthood that killed me. My dad was usually always able to go to school function and trips, but he wasn't home much in the evenings. Regardless of this, the last thing I wanted to be was a pastor's wife. Besides, I was convinced the whole dating thing would be too weird. Just a year before this, I had been asked out by another Lutheran pastor in the area. And while I initially said yes, I called and canceled the day before our date. I just started freaking out about what we would talk about and what would happen when we broke up and...
Hans' dad took a different approach. I'm not sure he said anything to Hans about Texas until Hans was home for Christmas vacation. Then, one day, John walked in the TV room while Hans was watching something and casually informed him, "So you're going to do your summer vicarage in Texas."
"Why Texas?" Hans asked.
"That's where Glenn Huebel's congregation is."
"Who the heck is Glenn Huebel?"
"You remember Glenn Huebel," John insisted.
"I'm pretty sure I've never heard that name in my life."
"Yes, you've heard of him, we went to seminary together. He and his family passed through here a number of years ago."
Hans paused. "Does he have a daughter my age?"
A sneaky smile creeps across John's face "Yes. Katie."
Hans says those memories just came flooding back. Again, I'm not sure what memories he was remembering since he ignored me the whole time.
So, Hans emailed my dad sometime in January 2005. My dad came to me a couple of days later and told me that Hans had just emailed him about a summer vicarage and in his email he said to say hi and that he had fond memories of me. What!?! Fond memories? How? "Let me have his email, I'll sort this out."
My dad refused at first. I think my dad thought I would ruin his whole plan in one email. Finally he let me have it. "Be nice, please." My dad always told me to be nice to good Lutheran boys. My dad would have never wanted me to marry someone I didn't love just because he was Lutheran, but I think he felt that Lutheran boys were fragile. I never treated anyone badly, it didn't matter if the boy was Lutheran or Catholic or whatever, if it didn't work it just didn't work. I promised my dad I would be nice and took the email address, not knowing if I'd actually write.
Despite my reservations I emailed Hans on January 28, 2005. For those of you who know me I did not know this date off the top of my head. I had to look it up. We seemed to hit it off and a couple of days later we exchanged phone numbers. We still continued to email and phone over the next month or so. Boy, did I become unproductive. If someone would have asked me to find a couple of hours out of my day to talk on the phone or piddle on the computer I would have laughed and asked how. At this point in time I was waking up at 5:00 am every morning to be in Dallas by 6. From Dallas I tracked it back to Fort Worth for a 9-5 job, then school from 6-10. When I finally got home I had studying and homework to do. There was no time in my day for anything else, and yet I found the time. I found myself staying up until 1 or 2 in the morning talking on the phone, still waking up at 5 to start my day. For those of you who know me, having a guy call on a daily basis was a sure sign he would not make it past a week and a half. I wasn't and am still not the romantic type and I just didn't have time for any fuss. But somehow talking to Hans everyday didn't seem draining. I actually looked forward to his calls. I sure as heck wasn't getting anything productive done, but I sure loved talking to him.
In early March Hans told me he had the whole week before Easter off. He asked if it would be OK to fly down to Texas to see me. I was so excited I could hardly wait. When you spend so much time on the phone and writing emails to someone you get to know a lot about them. This was really our whole dating portion of our relationship, phoning and writing. When it is impossible to go to movies, parties or other social functions together and all you can do is talk and write you are forced to talk about everything. We probably talked on the phone for about 3-4 hours a day, everyday, thank goodness for Verizon's In-calling plan. We knew almost everything about each other by the time he came down to Texas for a visit. I think the visit was to make sure we were compatible in person.
The week before Easter was just wonderful. We spent the whole week together and in one trip Hans met me, my parents and my grandparents. I knew he would pass the test of my parents and grandparents, but I didn't know about my roommate, Kelsey, or the most important 7 year old, Emily. Kelsey is a wonderful friend, always has been and always will be. She is very protective of me and wanted only the best. Besides, if some guy was going to come and marry me and make me move so far away, he'd better be perfect. I'm not sure when it was, but Hans finally got the OK from Kelsey, and that truly meant a lot to me. Emily just loved Hans from the start. Hans is fun and goofy and wonderful with kids. We spent a lot of time with her over that week and they seemed to get along perfectly. I think Emily had some second thoughts later when she realized how far away I'd be living, but that transition was also very hard for me. I'm getting ahead of myself though, because there was no talk of marriage the week he was in Texas.
So, things in Texas went well, and Hans flew back to Indiana the day after Easter. That was a very sad day. With tear-filled eyes I drove home from the airport. The whole way home and for a couple of days after I was thinking I was crazy. How was this going to work? I lived in Texas and he lived in Indiana. He was in school and I was committed to teach 5th and 6th grade for Messiah Lutheran Classical Academy. I was so unproductive during the short time we'd known each other so far what was I going to do for another year, or two!?!
I didn't have to wait long to get my answer, because a month later I flew up to Indianapolis to visit Hans and on our way to his house from the airport Hans played a sweet proposal song he'd written and recorded himself. I was so surprised and overjoyed. The next part is the funniest to me, after he proposed and I said yes, we went to his parents house and I met his parents. Kind of backwards.
Hans and I took all things into account, school, work, Texas, Indiana and decided to get married in August. Messiah had approved Hans as the summer vicar, so at the end of May Hans moved down to Texas and we spend the next few months, working and planning a wedding. Well, I didn't actually do much planning. My mom did almost all of the planning. I'm sure my mom's favorite words that summer were "It doesn't matter" or "I don't care". We ended the summer with a big bang of a wedding. It was a great time had by all and I do mean all as there were over 300 people in attendance. On August 19, 2005 I became Mrs. Hans Fiene and we started the rest of our lives together.
So, when we tell people that we met in late January and were married by August it seems really fast. I'm sure it seemed really fast for our parents and siblings too. But, if you think about it, Hans and I got to know each other so well those first few months and we lived so far from each other that the timing of everything seemed just right. And, if you really want to think about it, none of this would have happened if two old seminary buddies hadn't gotten together to catch up.
After we left Denver, we headed to California by way of Utah. Hans wanted to visit his old church, house, neighborhood, school and everything else. So we drove by his old house and he really wanted to say hi to his neighbor across the street. "It will be fine, Katie. She would want us to say hi and I want her to meet the boys." But I just couldn't get myself and the boys out of the car after 8 hours and bombard this poor woman. Plus I wasn't sure she liked Hans that much as a child. (Editor's note: Everybody loved me as a child.) When we got to the house there were a fair amount of cars in the driveway, which sealed the deal for me. "I'm staying right here. If you want to go say hi then, you can crash her party...alone." So the boys and I sat on the curb and waited as Hans went to the door. He came back a few minutes later and said that Elaine had invited us all in. They had just finished having a baby shower for one of her daughters in-law. So those messy and rambunctious boys of mine went into a house where there were lots of nice things to break. I held my breath the entire time.
After church on Sunday, we were invited over for brunch by the parents of Hans's old friend, DJ. Boy, could you tell they were grandparents. Spilt milk, orange juice and scrambled eggs on the floor only made them smile. And not that I can't wait for them to get out of my house smile. But a loving, genuine smile. The one only sweet grandparents can give.
After our lovely brunch we head for Vegas. I was initially very excited about our stay in Vegas. Not because I wanted to be in Vegas, but because we were able to get a nice room at a nice hotel for dirt cheap. I'm a little thrifty this way and if we are only using the hotel to sleep and will occupy the room for only 12 hours then I don't want to spend much. I had wonderful thoughts of taking the boys down the strip to see the lights and Hans told them all day about swimming in the biggest pool they had ever seen.
And then we got to Vegas.
Oh, Vegas, how I don't belong in your city limits.
We checked into the hotel and, about 45 minutes later, found parking, hauled the kids into the hotel, wound our way around the casino a few times looking for the right elevator and found our room. After we had been looking for the elevator for a bit a staff person came up to me.
"Have you checked in yet?"
"Yes. We are just looking for elevator 3B."
"Oh, how long are you staying?"
"Just tonight."
"Oh, too bad. Will you be coming back again within the next year?"
"No. I am never coming to this city again. Thanks though."
"Oh...okay..."
Poory lady. I didn't feel like going into the whole explanation of how we were only in Vegas as a pitstop to our final destination. Or how I was excited about the cheap room and didn't realize until we drove down the strip that the cheap room came at a great price, mentally speaking. Or that I am more of a homebody, small group kind of girl and lots of barely-clothed, semi-intoxicated, strange people made me a little uneasy. I spared her my rantings and went on my way.
Upon entering our room I declared that I would not leave again until the next morning. Hans decided he would venture out to find food and scope out the pool. After about 15 minutes, Hans declared his hatred of Vegas and said the pool was full of numerous sights our children should not see and that he was headed for the car to find food that cost at least a little less than an arm and a leg. Some overpriced McDonalds and Chinese food later, we were all happyish.
This was the view from our room.
Other than driving in and out of town, this was the closest to the strip we got.
This was the hotel, Luxor. The boys were excited that we were staying in a pyramid. Once they found out what a pyramid was.
I bet you thought just for a minute that I am a doting wife. Ha! I generally don't go running around talking about how proud I am of my husband. Not that I'm not proud, but I'm just not the doting wife type. If that is even a type. And, you know, my husband is my husband. He is Hans. The father of my children. The guy who is incredibly sarcastic, hardly ever serious, and the one for whom my children favor...Because he can be a bit of a push-over...a statement he will probably not agree with.
He's the guy who reads stories in funny voices, is always late, wrestles with the boys, leaves his dirty laundry everywhere, and makes fantastic and extremely messy dinners. Do you like how I put some undesirable facts in between the more desirable ones? That's what this doting wife does. Hans is a wonderful husband, father and Pastor.
So, Hans started these satirical cartoons called Lutheran Satire not long after we moved to Illinois. I'm going to go right on ahead and admit that I don't watch them. I live with the satire king. There is no jonesing for satire in my life. Evidently other people love his stuff. And some people HATE his stuff. There are often heated debates. While I knew that others watched his videos, I didn't realize how many people watched his videos. Or that he had followers. Which for some reason gives me an icky feeling. Not sure why. See? I'm not the doting wife.
I heard when he went to Fort Wayne, IN this year for Symposia people asked him to take pictures with them. Then there were others who took clandestine pictures of him at another conference in Naperville and tweeted about being in the same place with the Lutheran Satire guy. This cracks me up and grosses me out all at the same time. It isn't that I'm not supportive. It's just that to me Hans will always be Hans. I'm wondering if this is the same way my friend, Laurie, felt when I met her brother Nick and totally geeked out.
And maybe I'm a little jealous that Hans is WAY more popular than I am. He has become the favorite at my childhood church, my work, my boy's favorite parent. And I'm also sure that, if he ever had the opportunity to do a Toddler Time session at the library, he would probably become the favorite with all of the toddlers too.
So you guys go ahead and watch a few Lutheran Satire videos. Become followers, take pictures of him or with him and blog or tweet about him. I'll just laugh at all of you while I'm picking up his dirty laundry.
John is going to be my little evangelist. The other night we were eating out...I feel like this is how I have started every story for about a month now. I can't wait to get a house and not have to eat out. Back on point, we were eating out and our waitress was talking to John about all kinds of different things. Some how the conversation steered to Hans being a pastor. Hans was talking about how we just moved into town and I could tell he was beginning to bring the conversation around to church when John interrupted, "Do you go to church?" "Yes" said the waitress. "Where?" asked John. After she told him the name of the church he said, "How come you don't come to our church? You should really come to our church." This left us explaining to John that other churches do exist. He gave us a look like, 'yeah, I know, but that doesn't matter'. We obviously won't teach our children that our church is the only church. But, I'm happy that he loves church enough to want people to go with him. I think he will serve on the evangelism board someday. How can you say no to this kid? Well, how can anyone aside from his parents say no?
On a side note, River of Life started up Sunday school a couple of weeks ago and John LOVES it. He is constantly talking about what he learned in Sunday school and what he will learn (like he knows). He loves his teachers and is truly excited for Sunday mornings. I love that he is so excited.
The House Oversight and Government Reform Committee hearing on the HHS mandate has created quite a stir. If you missed the hearing you can view part 1 here, and part 2 here.
I'm not much of a political person. I also happen to live in the most politically corrupt state, so I don't see me becoming a political person any time soon. However, because I am a Christian, I have read and watched a lot about the HHS mandate. I also proudly watched my church body's president, Rev. Matthew Harrison, deliver an excellent speech. One that had all of the LCMS Lutherans proclaiming "that's MY President!"
In most of what I read, people seem to be wavering from the facts. We, as Christians, are against the HHS mandate because it impedes our religious freedom. The first amendment is supposed to protect religious groups from mandates such as this. I get unnerved and baffled as to how people are making this about something else. So let's just stick with the facts.
The HHS Mandate requires that all employers, religious or otherwise, offer health insurance that provides forms of birth control, even those that cause the death of an unborn child.
Obama did provide an "accommodation" for religious employers stating that employees could get birth control directly from the insurance companies if their employers didn't cover it. But since those religious organizations are still required to provide their employees with health insurance that covers these forms of birth control, this still violates the consciences of those who oppose these drugs/services.
The first amendment guarantees all US citizens the right to the free exercise of their religion. We cannot freely exercise our religion if the government is forcing religious organizations to violate the tenets of their faith.
Those are the facts. Plain and simple. The government should have no control over our consciences, and yet that is precisely what they are trying to do.
What this whole circus has become is a bunch of people who aren't sticking to the facts getting upset over our "misogynistic" men in leadership. This issue is not about women's health. This is about religious freedom. This is not about how President Obama feels about birth control. This is about how we, as religious organizations, feel about birth control and our right not to offer abortion causing drugs as part of our health insurance plans.
It is instances like this, when people show they can no longer be logical, that I worry about the world my kids are a part of. We work as parents to shield them from harm and protect them from danger. We teach them to be kind, loving, gracious and respectful. We raise them in a Christian home with Christian values. We teach them right and wrong. Not this new age right and wrong, but biblical right and wrong. This has shown me that not only do we as parents need to proceed, diligently teaching our children Christian values, but that we must also teach them how to fight logically against those who try to invade our consciences.
I am unbelievably behind in blogging. I have a ton of pictures to go through and not enough hours in the day. It has gotten to the point where I wince every time I take out the camera because I know I'm only adding to the hundreds of pictures I haven't even looked at yet. For now you all get to act like it is only December and not actually the last day of January.
Hans and I grew up with completely different traditions when it comes to opening Christmas presents. My family has always opened on Christmas morning and his family has always opened on Christmas Eve. This is a major source of contention. Seriously. This should be a topic discussed in pre-marital counseling. For now, we open on Christmas Morning one year and Christmas Eve the next. I'm not sure how long this will last. I would just like to go on record and state that I know he is a pastor and thus works hard Christmas Eve and if he wants to open presents when he comes, home he should be able to. BUT, and this is a big one, while he is preaching, I am wrangling 3 children. At an evening service. By myself. And most of the time I come home exhausted and not really in a giving mood. That should count for something.
This year was a Christmas Eve year. After church the kids opened their presents. It was a bit chaotic what with the gigantic tree, 3 eager kids and one very excited dog. I didn't manage to get any pictures of them opening presents. But I was able to grab a few of the boys and Hans...and me too.
The day after we moved into this new rental house, two ladies in our church took John and Gus to the Children's Museum so I could clean, unpack and organize. I'm not sure how much of that I got done, but the boys had a blast. Deb and Pam were so nice to take them and take a ton of pictures. I had a hard time choosing which ones to use. After looking through all of these pictures I really want to go to the museum.
Can't start the day with out having some fun at the water table.
Then it was time to make bubbles.
Deb and Gus are making a bubble that goes all the way around them. Cool, huh?
Deb and Gus have a very special bond. Gus, who never pays attention to new people, walked up to Deb on our first day of church and hit her on the butt. I was mortified. Really. But it seemed to have created a special relationship and for that I'm glad he was uncharacteristic that day.
I'm told this was the highlight of the museum for the boys. You put balls in the pipe and then use the vacuums to manipulate the balls path.
Pam and Gus
Did you know that if you add a little water to those packing peanuts that they stick together? Both boys made sculptures.
Hard at work.
I love how Gus is always looking at John.
As if going to the museum wasn't cool enough, Deb and Pam took the boys to lunch and to get ice cream cones that looked like clowns.
The boys had a wonderful time. They still talk about things they did. I'm also grateful for getting some time to unpack and unwind. I still can't believe Gus went somewhere without me or his Dad.
Thank you, Deb and Pam. You guys are awesome...and not just because you took my kids.
After the Children's Program at Church we came home and tried to relax. It had been a busy day. Hans and I were just discussing what we were going to do for dinner as the boys were chasing each other around the house. Apparently the day hadn't been as exhausting for them as it was for us. All of a sudden we heard Anders scream and he ran over to us holding his head. He said he had hit it. When I took his hand off of his head to examine the wound, blood just started gushing. For a long while Hans and I couldn't even get a good look at the wound. We determined that an ER trip was in order. Both of us had to go because Anders' head was still bleeding and he wouldn't hold a towel on it by himself. So we quickly bundled up the boys and ourselves and headed to the hospital.
John was quite upset the whole way there because he felt like this was all his fault. He had been chasing Anders. It didn't matter how many times we told John that it was okay and it wasn't his fault. John didn't calm down until he saw with his own eyes that his brother was okay.
Anders stopped crying long before we reached the ER. All of the boys were troopers as we waited hours to be seen by a doctor. Anders was a total rock-star and didn't even cry when he got his stitches.
Needless to say the evening was not relaxing. But what should I expect as a mother of three rowdy boys. Now all of the Fiene boys have been inducted to the stitch club.
