What is the Home for?

I've been reading quite a bit of Wendell Berry lately. Some friends visited the other night, and we began discussing the state of marriage and family today, which reminded me of the following quote, which we read aloud and discussed:

“Marriage, in what is evidently its most popular version, is now on the one hand an intimate ‘relationship’ involving (ideally) two successful careerists in the same bed, and on the other hand a sort of private political system in which rights and interests must be constantly asserted and defended. Marriage, in other words, has now taken the form of divorce: a prolonged and impassioned negotiation as to how things shall be divided. During their understandably temporary association, the ‘married’ couple will typically consume a large quantity of merchandise and a large portion of each other.” - From What Are People For? p180.

After reading the quote I was also reminded of another:

“The modern household is the place where the consumptive couple do their consuming. Nothing productive is done there. Such work as is done there is done at the expense of the resident couple or family, and to the profit of suppliers of energy and household technology. For entertainment, the inmates consume television or purchase other consumable diversion elsewhere.”

These quotes shed much light on the problem of parenting in the modern household for me. Most couples have no inherent concept in their minds of the purpose of their home. It has by default been defined as a place to escape from work or school, rest from work in various forms (TV, yard work, video games, read), or catch up on extra work from the office. But the home in and of itself has very little productive function for the family. It has little unifying effect on a family, in fact, most families are highly divided in their own home – each person slipping off into their separate spheres of escape. (Thus the modern generational divided church is really just a natural result of what has already been occurring in the home for decades.) It should come as no surprise then that many adults and children want to escape the home altogether, chasing children and their activities all over the city. For many it is easier to escape the confusion of the home than to fight for unity among the family in the home.

It should also come as no surprise that it is incredibly difficult to engage children with household chores, as there is no immediate connection to such work and meaning in their lives. There was a day when if one did not engage in household work (gather eggs, milk the cow, can the vegetables, etc.) then you very well may have starved, or at the very least have been very hungry. Now the solution, if one is hungry, is not to work harder at home, it is to go make a purchase.

What is the Home for? This is the problematic question any couple must wrestle with. For us, the home is a place where we certainly do some of the above time-wasters, but predominantly in our minds, our home is a place for fostering relationships with each other and with neighbors with the hopes that some may come to know Christ. It’s almost like the neighborhood pub, but with sweet tea on tap instead.

That night our friends lamented the way one couple they know are so scattered by their kids activities. I concluded, "I don’t think your friends that are smothered and scattered by child sports will be able to change their behavior until they wrestle with the question of the purpose of their home, until they can answer together, 'What is our home for?'"

Baby Race

Friday morning at 5:30 AM Julie’s water broke.  My first thought was “well, here’s the start of another loooong day,” since JI’s birth came 22 hours after his water broke.  But Caroline had a different plan.  I was on the phone with a friend at 8 AM, still thinking we had plenty of time, when Julie said “I think we’re having this baby today.”  Thirty minutes later the contractions were coming in waves, so we shipped John Isaac off to a friend’s house, assembled some belongings and prepared for the trip to the hospital.  In the midst of getting ready my brother in Kentucky calls and informs me they are at the hospital ready to deliver their baby!  The race was on – who would go first?  (Competition never gets old between brothers).

We were waiting for the Birthing Assistant (B.A. hereafter) to arrive before departing, but I wasn’t sure if we would be able to wait at this point – the contractions just kept coming, one after another, and Julie wasn’t getting any relief.  The B.A. arrived around 9:30 and knew right away that it WAS TIME TO GO.  We loaded Julie in the van and took off (though my driving was well controlled, as the B.A. commented afterwards).  I didn't know it at the time, but the B.A. was discretely calling another B.A. that was following behind us in a car, telling her to call the hospital and warn them that we were coming.  She told us later that she was for sure Julie would have the baby in the van!  

Julie was glad to be on the way, but not happy at all about the 47 speed bumps in the hospital parking lot.  When we parked at the entrance, I dashed off and retrieved a wheel chair, only to be informed by my wife that, “I can’t get out!”  Well, we’re not having this baby here – not when we're this close to having her nosocomial - so we all lifted various body parts and helped her into the chair.  We proceeded down the loooong hallway, up the elevator and pulled into the maternity ward at almost 10 AM.  Recognizing her condition, everyone jumped to attention and started helping right away.  A few minutes later she was in the delivery room and ready to go.  The Lord was so gracious to have some of the kindest, gentlest nurses in the room with us – they were so sensitive to her condition.  They immediately checked her and she was already fully dilated!!!!  Julie wasn’t kidding – we would be having a baby THAT DAY.

After many complications from delivering John Isaac with drugs, my amazing wife was dead set on having this baby o-natural.  Now, I’ve heard all the horror stories of women snapping at their husbands in this condition, so I was on my best behavior, not wanting to do anything to frustrate her.  I must have said a thousand times “you’re doing a great job!” and meant it every time.  She amazed me with her resilience and focus – I was truly inspired and became “choked up” many times just watching her endure the pain.  All the material we read beforehand  said there would come a point when she would say “I can’t do this – I can’t go on!”  but she blew right past that point, only hinting at it right at the very end.  She started pushing at 11:30 – and at 12:01, we had our girl!

The only down side of the entire morning was the flurry of messages that came in right before Julie started pushing: my brother’s daughter was just delivered.  They beat us by 37 minutes!  Oh well, you can’t win them all.  I guess it wasn’t a total loss, as Caroline was heavier by 3 ounces.

We spent the night in the hospital and made it home Saturday afternoon with no problems.  Please pray for a speedy recovery for my wife.

Binders and the Decleration of Independence

This is my son and his binders.  He's been filling them up with all sorts of important papers.  The two light colored binders are dedicated to his parents.  He said he keeps important things about us in them so he can remember us if we accidentally die.  Important things like old church history notes and pictures of crocodiles - things that will make him think of us.

The red binder holds his copy of the Declaration of Independence.  He was absolutely giddy to have his own copy printed out today.  He said "The Stephens (friends with 12 kids) won't believe this!"  I don't remember much about my 5th year of life, but I know that there really wasn't anything more exciting than carrying personal copies of constitutional documents.