I still have a lot of penny pinching things floating around. Sometimes I write whole posts in my head when I am in bed, but I am too lazy to get up and write them down, then in the morning I find that all the clever phrases have been lost in the night.

There are times, I have been thinking, when the habit of living frugally can actually make one selfish and miserly. “I can’t invest too much of myself into this person… It might require more resources than I have, and then what would I do?” Not being too lavish with the butter can translate into not being too lavish with the love and care for others. “This is ours. We need to preserve it for a time of famine. Why don’t you go stand in line for your own butter?”

Pouring myself out to the point of poverty for the sake of another, that isn’t exactly thrift, now, is it? Finding someone more needy than me and giving them what I really want to keep for myself, my time and energy, that isn’t all that frugal either.

The One who restores our souls is not an ungracious skinflint. In our best, or worst, penny pinching moments, we need to remember that this cannot become a habit that pinches our very existence into grubbing meanness. Let us live as though we really believe that the One who asks us to share and give is the One who has the most extravagant storehouse of all! I am not talking about money, if you take my meaning, although that is certainly included.

Gabe’s uncle tells us a story from their newly wed days, when they were flat broke. Down to the last dollar, they decided to walk to the convenience store to spend it. Recklessly flinging caution aside, they bought malted milk balls and Mountain Dew. The story always delights me, as I imagine a very young, very green Amish couple marching to the store, breezily spending their last dime on totally unnecessary stuff.

These days we are in celebration mode. Gabe is done with school!!! The nursing class has their pinning ceremony tonight and commencement tomorrow night! We have lots of family and friends who are celebrating with us. Away with the oatmeal and bring out the sparkly!

Last week I had a refreshing chat with my friend, Carol, who also has 5 little children, as well as a sweet daughter waiting for her family in Haiti. As you can imagine, we had lots of common ground, the details of which would bore some of you. We talked about dressing our children for church and how, no matter how prepared you think you are, there is always that curve ball at the last minute… the lost shoe, the inside-out shirt discovered on a tot as he heads out the door, or the baby blow out that necessitates a complete change of clothing with tiny buttons and minuscule tights. As you walk in the door at church, people smile and hug you and think you are so pulled together, and they just have no idea the drama you went through just to get there: the tears during the very recent hair combing, and how the little girl went and rolled around on the couch right after you neatly french braided her wisps into some sort of submission. All that is just before the service.

Yesterday we went to church early, because my husband is responsible to print the bulletin. Then I remembered that we had forgotten some important papers that we needed to hand out, so I drove back home and picked them up. I got back just as the singing commenced and settled in for an interesting 3 hours of keeping 5 wiggly children peacefully quiet. About halfway through, a little girl wet her pants and the baby was mad because she didn’t have her favorite blanket. So I loaded them up and went home again to remedy the underwear problem and pick up the blanket. My husband is also superintendent, which means he spends about a half hour up front after Sunday School, during our sharing and prayer time. I just hoped the other three were behaving themselves while I was gone.

After that I spent most of the message time in the nursery with the baby who was no longer mad about the blanket, but now thought she needed sustenance that I no longer offer her. So… all that to say, some days it would be just a lot easier to stay home. In honor of all my friends, including you, Carol, I am reposting something I wrote almost four years ago.

 

Worship services just aren’t what they used to be…B.C. (before children) that is. In the old days, I sat up front where the singing was united and I didn’t have to miss any of the sermon because every third person around me had to go potty or needed a drink.

Last Sunday morning I had a serious brain lapse. In order to lure them into eating breakfast quickly, I got out the special treat I had been saving for them… Fruity Pebbles, that amazing mixture of food colorings and sugar. It took me about ten minutes in church to regret ever buying those things, even for 95 cents a box at the bent and dent store. The boy on my left was helpless to control his wiggles. Knowing he has to stay on the bench, his bottom stayed put, but the rest of him did serial squirming and twitching the whole morning. He made valiant efforts, after maternal prompting, to be a quiet mouse for 5 minutes, but it was just too much. I was seriously considering letting him do laps in the parking lot about then.

Meanwhile the other boy got tired of his book and was bored and wanted to write and needed a drink and was bored and hungry and tired. I understood that the message concerned our living hope, and I was blessed by the children’s lesson, but when the worship service was over, I didn’t feel like I had worshiped very much.

All of this is to explain why I was so inspired by A.W. Tozer’s thoughts on worship in “The Pursuit of God”. I quote, “We tend to divide our total life into two departments, unconsciously recognizing two sets of actions. The first are performed with a feeling of satisfaction and assurance that they are pleasing to God…prayer, Bible reading, hymn singing, church attendance and other acts of faith. The secular acts include all the ordinary activities, such as eating, sleeping,working, looking after the needs of the body, and performing our dull and prosaic duties here on earth. These we often do reluctantly, apologizing to God for what we consider a waste of time and strength.”

He goes on to describe the frustration and lack of peace that comes from this false dilemma in the mind of the Christian. Jesus, while in a human body, did not have a divided life. He said, “I do always the things that please the Father.”

Most encouraging to me is the realization that for the born again believer, every act of our ordinary lives can bring glory to God. All of life becomes a sacrament, an external expression of inward grace. Our daily labor can be performed as acts of worship to God in Jesus Christ. This is presenting our bodies, a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable unto God…

I know all this in my head, and it brings an incredibly restful unity in my heart. Let there be no sacred/secular divide! Even in a service that is designed specifically for worship, and I find myself in the middle of child training!

As you may have noticed, I helped my titles a little. These posts are in no special order. If this bothers you, I apologize, although I am not really all that sorry. I just meander through my day -actually, make that trot briskly- and think of stuff that I do that might save money. My ideas are all very home spun, as in not-sophisticated… humble, like the pennies they represent. But I am prone to think my ideas have helped us through 3 years of income so far below the poverty level that it seems almost miraculous that we survived. Maybe these posts will encourage someone out there who feels like saving in bits and pieces here and there doesn’t make enough difference to matter.

My lovely sister-in-law, Hilda, taught me how to make this eco-friendly, all purpose cleaner. I know, I just said if you use the Magic Cloth, you don’t need cleaning solutions. I find that there are occasions where I want something pleasantly scented, as well as antiseptic. I use this cleaner on spills that stain the carpet. (Disclaimer: Do not do this if you haven’t tested it in an obscure place first. Our carpet is old and I really don’t care if the cleaner fades it a bit. But I would feel really sad if you blamed me for ruining yours.) It is oddly therapeutic to spray, spray, spray, and rub a spot away. 🙂 I also use it to wipe down walls and to clean surfaces in the bathroom.

So, here is what I do. I buy a large bottle of peroxide for 88 cents at —mart, pour it into an empty spray bottle, and add about 15 drops of lavender oil which is a natural disinfectant. Then I just shake it up and use it whenever I need it. Which is pretty often. Sometimes I also add a few drops of grape fruit seed extract, which supposedly fights off parasites, fungus, bacteria and viruses.

I am not sure of the start up cost in buying the oils. We got a bottle of lavender oil in each of our birth kits for the last three babies, so I have a nice stash. The links I provided are not necessarily the best prices. You will have to do your own homework on that. If you think it is too expensive, remember that one little bottle has hundreds of drops of oil in it. You can use the oils for lots of other things besides this cleaner. It will make you feel really Granola Woman and frugal, I promise!

” It is so easy for us as mothers to look at the work we do on behalf of our families and resent that it is free to them. Look at those kids, thinking that the clean clothes just appear magically. Look at these people, not valuing the cost of my work. Look at this ungrateful family who just takes the food and eats it. Like it was free! But it is very important that we see the damage that this kind of thinking brings with it.

When we want the cost to be shared by all, we are not imitating Christ. When we imitate Christ, we want to give what costs us much, and we want to give it freely. Of course we have short-term vision, and often we feel like when we freely give, we need to see right away that it is being used responsibly. We worry that our free sacrifice will make our children greedy takers.”

That is an excerpt from an article on Desiring God. Please go there and read the whole thing. It is so startlingly clear and true!

If you can find a source for raw milk, it is an excellent way, indeed, to save a bit of money. That is, if you don’t live in NY City and have to pay the farmer to smuggle the milk over state lines. I think the debate over raw milk is ridiculous. But, anyhow…

Last night I got so hungry for real yogurt and homemade butter and actual sour cream that I decided to make the trek to my source, which wild horses cannot drag out of me, because I appreciate my source too much!

I brought home four gallons of fresh milky milk. Notice I did not say “creamy” milk because there was a fatal flaw, as I discovered this morning when I went to skim off a bit of coffee cream. There was
not even a drop of skimmable cream, only a dull little puddle of different colored milk on the top of the jar.

Friends, I brought home four gallons of skim milk. Apparently the agitator in the tank had not been run for quite a while, and that is that. So much for butter and sour cream, but the low fat yogurt option is still open.

Here is my yogurt recipe, which we think is fabulous. I got it from my friend, Naomi, who got it from some inspired aunt of hers. Just so you know who really should get the credit.

Homemade Vanilla Yogurt

8 cups raw milk
1 T plain gelatin
1/3 cup plain yogurt
1/2 cup sugar
1 T vanilla
1/2 cup powdered milk

Heat the milk to 180 degrees. Let it cool to 130 degrees. Sprinkle the gelatin on top and stir in gently. Let cool to 115 degrees, then add the rest of the ingredients. I was told that you do not have to add the powdered milk, but it results in a smoother, creamier end product. I think I will just go ahead and put it in, seeing as I am starting with skim. Of course, if you are not a vanilla sort of person, you can leave out that and the sugar, too, and you will have Plain Jane yogurt.

Pour the mixture into jars, and cover tightly with lids. To incubate my yogurt, I turn on the oven light, which keeps my oven perfectly at 100 degrees. I let it set in the oven overnight, for 8 to 12 hours, then refrigerate it for up to a month.

It never takes us that long to eat it, but it keeps for a long time. Hello smoothies… Healthy low fat smoothies! I have never had a flop with this recipe when I started with raw milk, and I sincerely hope it works as well for you!

My sister gave me not one, but two Magic Cloths. At first glance I thought they looked like a sort of glorified paper towel. I was skeptical, but she said I would love them. And I do! I cannot tell you how amazing they are for cleaning windows and mirrors… any surfaces, really. You should just try it for yourself. If you come to my house, I will let you wash my windows just for the fun of it. 🙂

You simply wet the cloth and wipe down the dirt. I use a dry cloth to wipe the water off the windows, but that is not strictly necessary. The surface is left sparkling, streak-less and lint-free. No more money spent on chemical cleaners (unless you really want to). The cloth is supposed to work for up to 5 years. Yesterday when my friend was here to help me with my very crummy basement windows, I handed her paper towels and window cleaner just because I thought it would be a little gross to have bugs and spiders swirling in a bucket full of water. There still are situations where disposable stuff may float your boat.

When I was looking for helpful links, I saw that this actually requires a bit of an investment. More than I knew, since mine were gifts. I think my sis bought hers at some obscure little Amish store without a website, but you could try here or here.

Depending on how industrious you are many windows you have in your house, the average price of 6 dollars per cloth defrayed over 5 years is not too bad, wouldn’t you say?

I have a few little ideas about saving money, most of which are probably not startling or profound to my readers. All of them, however, will save you a few dollars, which in the long run is… a few dollars. 🙂 I can just see my brothers rolling their eyes.

Today I was mulling over towels. This came about as I was cleaning my basement with the help of my lovely young friend, Michelle. I had observed to her that nearly all our towels were wedding gifts. They are looking a little shabby, but eleven years is, after all, a long time for a towel to last. (We do shower every day, I promise!) Back when we were given these splendid, thick, oversized towels, we decided it was not necessary to wash them after every single use. So we put up hooks, and we use our towels twice before we throw them into the hamper.

Right there is your penny pincher tip! Twice the wear on the towels, half the laundry detergent and water. I also have a hunch that line drying saves a lot of wear and tear on stuff. All that lint? It comes out of something. What do you think?

I offer this tip tentatively, knowing that this totally grosses some people. Let me qualify: We do try to get clean before we dry off, and we do stick to our own towel. 😉

Gabe is checking his phone messages and tells me, “Oh, no, Sam says his girlfriend’s water broke and she isn’t due for quite a while yet. He wants to switch shifts with me.”

Olivia, in the next room, says, “Who? What? What is going on?”

I tell her that Sam’s baby is coming early and he wants Papa to cover for him at work. “OH.” Long pause. Then came the inevitable conclusion, “And his faucet isn’t working.”

 

 

Our cat has obligingly produced yet another litter of fine kittens. This time she gave birth under the porch, not in the van. I thought that was a much more appropriate place. We weren’t even aware of the kittens until they tottered out, blinking their milky blue eyes at the sunshine. To say my girls were thrilled would be an understatement.

 Since the colder weather has come, I have relaxed my rule of “NO kittens in the house” to “IF they poo, you will clean it up.” Parental compromise, there you have it. Since we cleaned out the toy box, this is how they use it. I think it is a win all around. 🙂

The thought caught me off guard when I was reading through Job’s story, agonizing with him in his questions, despising the dastardly wiles of Satan as he taunted God about Job’s seeming cupboard love. “He only worships You because You have blessed him and You protect him. Take that away and he will curse You to Your face.” This was not Job’s reputation on the line. This was about God, about whether He is trustworthy or not. So God gave Satan permission to take it all away, all but his breath. Can you imagine how much God must have trusted that Job would continue to worship Him in the middle of all his afflictions?

I read Job’s protests of blamelessness to his uncomforting friends who thought surely he had sinned to deserve all this calamity. I feel his bewildered questions, the lack of divine rescue causing him such turmoil. And yet, Job worshiped! Not once did he blaspheme God with accusations of unfaithfulness. Job worshiped in the face of the most inscrutably unfair events that could have possibly come into his life.

I shake my head in amazement. Can I understand inscrutable? Am I okay with a God so sovereign? One Who may give the Devil permission to make my life uncomfortable as hell? I mean that literally.

People say, “Oh, God won’t give you more than you can handle.” I no longer agree with that statement. I think He gives us more than we can handle pretty often. I believe that He wants us to find Him there, in our problems. I am simple enough to believe that He still says to Satan, “Have you seen my faithful servant down there, who will worship Me in every circumstance?”

If there is anything I have learned in the last few years of plodding toward Gabe’s nursing degree, it is this: I have settled it, deep down in my soul, that I CANNOT. Having always liked to be organized, capable, and managed, it was a difficult place for me. I had more than I could handle. A lot more. All I had to do was admit it, and I found a “strength in trouble”. I discovered new depths of ugliness in my flesh, and realized profoundly that anything sweet and lovely in my life comes purely from the redeeming work of Jesus.

For this faithfulness, I worship. While I would not ever suggest that my life parallels that of Job, I do know that I worship God in a different way than I did before severe testings came my way, those things I hated that I could not handle or fix. I am guessing Job did, too, when he was on the other side of his abyss of trials.

Maybe you feel “thrown under the bus” because of circumstances that are crushing you. Maybe God is showing Satan that you will worship Him anyway.