Saturday, September 18, 2010


The last few weeks: I flew to Virginia with Emily and then I flew home without her. I was home less than 24 hours and went to Bible Memory Camp at the coast for 3 days with Paul and another couple and 12 children. Then I taught my new huge Sunday school class of juniors and the next day I worked on my column for September and got stuff ready for school starting and as soon as that was done I sewed the last few dresses for Amy and took her to Portland on Friday to catch her plane and Saturday we made applesauce all day and Sunday I had even more kids in my class and Monday I spent too much time getting a talk ready and giving it that evening and Tuesday morning I helped in Mr. D's classroom.

And then I went home and realized for the first time in weeks I was free to just breathe and sleep. So I did both.

And then I attacked my neglected house with a vengeance.

Paul's niece came and helped me twice this week and I have this wonderful sense of dust departing and order returning.

And this evening I made a big batch of cinnamon rolls for the first time in months.

I enjoy going and doing, but I love love love to be home. Some time I'd like to be home for a whole week, not sick or snowed in or anything, just home and healthy and staying caught up with things, with nothing that I have to have done by a certain time.

But "going" has its appeal as well, to be honest, and meanwhile God calls me to both homemaking and duties/ministry outside of my home. I feel this constant pull between the two and a constant battle for balance. Yesterday a guy called and asked if I'd speak to a seniors' group at Zion Mennonite, an hour and a half away. I imagined the familiar fun of dressing up and speaking to appreciative people who have read my stuff in the Mennonite Weekly Review and who have plenty of money to buy books. And I also imagined the familiar frustration of signing up for way too much and rushing home to make supper and feeling hopelessly behind for two days.

So I think I'll say no.

And if I feel a twinge of regret on that day I'll remind myself how nice it is to be home.

A rabbit trail--the only person I ask for advice about this balancing act is Paul, because he has great insight and perspective. The advice of friends tends to be all or nothing--"Your place is at home!" or "You need to get out there and impact the world for Jesus!" Paul believes in my giftings and wants me to use them but he also senses when I'm unraveling at the edges. And he really likes cinnamon rolls.

Quote of the Day:
"I just love shopping with you when you're in a good mood!"
--Jenny, at Grocery Depot


  1. I finally came to a degree of peace when I realized that I am "a homebody with gypsy blood." Carol

  2. Dorcas, once again you said it for me! I can identify with you on the feeling of being pulled two ways and the wonderful feeling of being at home, making cookies and other yummy foods which we love, and don't need.

    I have been enjoying your blog for several years and have been too bashful to comment. You are the writer I dream of being! And you brighten my days!

  3. I picture your ministry as a kite and that "home" is what holds your kite string and doesn't let you go too far away or get damaged in turbulent times...just lets you go far enough, then reels you back in at the right times, to mend and repair and rest, then up and away again.