A Snarky Crucifixion Of The Enneagram

Disclaimer: I apologize to all of you who have not jumped on the Enneagram bandwagon; I'm sorry if none of this makes any sense. Feel free to just click on by to something more interesting.

To those of you who are into the Enneagram, I hope I gave you a little something to smile about.

Carry on.

      ******************************

Dear Enneagram,

I don't know who the know it all was that had so much time on their hands they felt the need to sit down and dissect the human race on paper. Probably someone with so many degrees behind their name that their friends called them Fahrenheit. I don't know who you thought you were but I'd just like to thank you for several things.

First of all, congratulations on your ability to write detailed descriptions of all the worst characteristics of humanity. Seriously, you nailed it over and over -- "That's her!" and "Oh that's totally him!" Personal kudos for pin-pointing every single one of my weaknesses, even though I denied them all the first time around. You've got talent, I have to admit. You must have been an eight is all I can say. I mean obviously, the rest of us have opinions but you? You have facts.

I like how you deliberately take every one of us apart and then, when we're completely shredded and helpless, you try to tell us how good these things can be. I will say this -- you treat every number equally, so maybe there is hope in that. I have yet to hear someone discover their number and promptly declare how much they love it, so again, I have to give you the fact that you've been fair.

I do, however, have a bone to pick with you when it comes to number nine. I just have to say, if you were trying to be helpful you failed miserably on this one. And I quote:

"Nines can have the strength of Eights, the sense of fun and adventure of Sevens, the dutifulness of Sixes, the intellectualism of Fives, the creativity of Fours, the attractiveness of Threes, the generosity of Twos, and the idealism of Ones. However, what they generally do not have is a sense of really inhabiting themselves—a strong sense of their own identity.

Ironically, therefore, the only type the Nine is not like is the Nine itself."

I just have a question -- how is that helpful? 

You've just described what a nine is like and then you turn around and tell them the only person they're not like is a nine itself. Say what? If a nine takes on the characteristics of all the other numbers, would it not follow from simple logic that that persona is, in fact, a nine? What, may I ask, is 'the nine itself' if it is not that? For someone who is so good at slicing up humans into tidy little categories, you sure are confusing me on this one. 

Thank you for upsetting my world and making me think; it's my least favorite thing to do. You have forced me to spend days on end ruminating a question I have never in all my years found an answer for: Who Am I? I understand now why I've never known.

Congratulations.

Sincerely,
A Nine

PS. You have to know that tomorrow I will feel terribly about being so insulting; please forgive me. I really do like you a lot. In fact, I've been recommending your amazing work to numerous people, so there's that to soothe your feelings.

PPS. I forgot that you are, undoubtedly, an eight and therefore my snarkiness only served to amuse you. I take none of it back.

Dear Mom

I was taking a break from my sewing this morning and made an innocent little stop by facebook. Two minutes later I was reaching for a Kleenex and swallowing around a lump in my throat, wanna know why Mom?

It started with a simple little notification: "Genice Motes Cardenas has a birthday today." It ended up with me in tears, thinking about you.

The fact is, I cannot think about Genice without thinking about you, Mom; there's no way.

Mom on the left, Genice on the right, 

Wilma Hochstetler in the back

From as far back as I can remember, you always had the best friendships with your neighbors, Mom. As a little girl, I remember Sunday afternoon visits to Lillie Tuttle. I remember sitting in her tiny living room, playing quietly with a mesh bag full of plastic Easter eggs. I remember once climbing carefully up the steep steps to the teensy upstairs under the sloping roof in her little house and looking at old quilts she had made. I remember clearly, seeing you wipe tears the day that Lillie passed away and, with the innocence of a little girl asking, "Why are you crying, Mom?" Your simple answer was, "Because we will miss her."

I suppose because I was the youngest, I got in on visits with your neighbor friends more than my other siblings. I remember visits to Ina Cannon, Marilyn Myette, Ava Baker and a string of Motes relations. There was always someone that you wanted to visit and you almost never failed to take something along to either give them, or show them. 

I loved going with you to visit Ava, the dear sweet lady with the name that she declared "You can't even spell backwards!" She had the best sense of humor and 'lived in the house that Jack built', as she always liked to tell people. Her little house was a museum of her paintings, with full wall murals that she added to when the notion struck and many, many framed pieces that each had an intriguing story. Even after I was married, you would pick me up and take me along to show off your grandchildren. I remember clearly, the day I went with you to Ava's funeral and held your hand as you said good bye. 

Last summer we stopped by Ava's 

daughter's house and I got to show my children some of Ava's paintings 

There were other special neighbor friends, but I think Genice was almost more like a sister to you than anything, Mom. You told her things that you couldn't talk about with just anyone and after a visit with her, you almost always had a story to tell us at the supper table to make us laugh. You would try to imitate the drawling, southern accent and the dry sense of humor and we could all just hear Genice saying it. To me, one of the most special parts of your funeral will always be the tribute that Genice wrote for her daughter to read. You were a friend to many, Mom. And you deeply shaped my view of people outside of our Mennonite world. 

That one little innocent stop by facebook brought back all these memories, Mom. And suddenly I missed you desperately and decided to talk about it. Some memories are bittersweet but I am still so very thankful that I have them. And, all in all, I reckon I'm glad that Genice had a birthday today and facebook reminded me of the fact.

Love, Bethany

Because Of Lincoln

Nearly eighty thousand people have followed the story of little Lincoln Arrow Schrock. Two years ago, Lincoln was diagnosed with stage four Neuroblastoma at the age of three. This past Thursday, September 19, he slipped into the arms of his Jesus.

I too have followed their journey from afar. I've quietly traced the rollercoaster life they have lived. I have wept with them when they wept and rejoiced when they rejoiced. I didn't know them personally, but across the many miles from Wisconsin to Ohio, their story touched mine.

As parents, it's impossible to hear stories like Lincoln's without being impacted in some way. You can't hear about a three year old being diagnosed with cancer without looking around at your own four year old and imagining "what if". It's only natural to wonder, What would we do? How would we respond? How would something like this impact our lives? It's impossible to imagine the agony of decisions, the physical weariness, the brutal ups and downs, the intense pain of your heart.

I don't pretend to know exactly how we would handle a diagnosis like little Lincoln's. I doubt that we would do everything like Matt and Kaitlyn but I'm not here to talk about any of that. What I'm here to talk about is the most important part of any story: God's Glory.

I am in awe of the impact of Lincoln's story.

You couldn't be on social media this past week without seeing his name pop up somewhere. More than one blog has mentioned his story; many individuals have talked about his influence; a group of over two hundred moms has formed to keep each other accountable to treasure their children because of Lincoln... and more. And everywhere his name is mentioned, you hear people who have seen Jesus.  This is the part of following along with Lincoln's story that gives me goosebumps.

A three year old diagnosed with cancer and battling a monster for two long, grueling years is heartbreaking. Everything within us cries out at the unfairness; the awfulness; the anguish and sadness. I don't know a parent who wouldn't be willing to trade places, rather than watch their child go through so much pain. Nothing about such a story is pretty. It is hard, dark; something we would go to great lengths to avoid. No, nothing about it is pretty. Nothing except the beautiful redemption of Jesus.

Lincoln loved his Jesus.

Lincoln's family loved his Jesus.

The light of Jesus shone forth in every tiny detail of Lincoln's story. Not one of those eighty thousand people following his story could help but see it. That one detail takes a story with so much pain and heartache  and turns it into a beautiful one. Does that take away the pain? No. Does that make us glad for the heartache? No. But oh, the glory Jesus has received from the story of little Lincoln Arrow! I am in awe of what God can do when we hand Him our stories, ashes and all.

"Of one thing I am perfectly sure: God's story never ends with ashes."

 ~Elizabeth Elliot, These Strange Ashes

Book Recommendations

Happy Friday! I'm back with the promised post telling you about books that I recommend. Instead of four, I'm going to tell you about eight; how's that for a bonus?

Some of these books I've listened to, and some of them I have read. I now own one of them because it was that good; the rest have been returned to the library, either physically or online. Which brings me to this -- did you know you can get audio books from an 'online library'? My local library uses a free app called the Libby App; other libraries use different ones.

We have the App on all of our phones now and have listened to lots of books, at home and on trips. You can't always find what you're looking for and often you have to place a hold on a title and wait awhile but we sure have enjoyed it! 

So, without further ado....

It's been quite awhile since I read this book. I know I got it because of seeing it recommended somewhere but I can't remember where? I wasn't planning on sharing this one but this post reminded me of it. This is not my typical read. I don't like books that you have to wade through but this one was so intriguing and so good that it was worth some wading. 

This was a fun read. If you're into behind the scenes history type of stuff, you'll enjoy this book for sure. 

If you like marriage books, these are both good ones. It was summer time when I got these in on Libby, which isn't a good time to listen to books. I didn't quite get them both listened to before I needed to send them back so I have "For Women Only" on hold again.

I got this book on audio from the library a couple of years ago and it is incredible. Each of the main characters has a different reader and I honestly felt like I knew each of them personally after listening to this book. This probably isn't one you want to listen to with your children, at least not young ones. There's some language and explicit scenes that wouldn't be appropriate. I listened to it again on Libby in the past year.

These next two books are by the same author. I'm not sure which I would recommend that you read first? If you're a parent, and you only read one, I would highly recommend "Raising Grateful Kids In An Entitled World". I cannot say enough good things about this book. This is the one I decided I needed to have on my bookshelf so I could re-read it and mark it up and lend it out. I love "Rhinestone Jesus" too. It stirred me deep inside and made me wonder what would happen if we all pursued our 'God sized dreams'?

And then there is this one. Have you gotten on the ennagram bandwagon? If you're interested in the ennagram, this is the book you want to read -- in my opinion, of course. I haven't listened to all of it yet, mostly just to the numbers that describe me and my family members. We listened to some of it together as a family and it was very entertaining. When it began to vividly describe my eleven year old, she got a peculiar look on her face and protested,  "Just shut it off!!" Spoiler alert: You will find it amazing when it begins to describe your insides better than you could yourself but you prooobably won't like [at least some of] what you hear.

That's all for now.  Another time I might share some audio books we've enjoyed as a family. Have a great weekend!

On Book Reviews

I really hate writing book reviews.

The truth is, I really hate writing when it takes a lot of work. Incidentally, that would explain why I've written so little in the past months but that's not what we're talking about. For me, writing a book review is a lot of work. 

I refuse to tell you how long these

blocks have been on my

dining room floor, 

stacked in various creations. 

I just keeping moving them to the wall

and sweeping and mopping around them. 

I love to read. As a young girl, I used to read voraciously. I almost forget how much I used to read until I watch my eleven year old and then I'm reminded. I'm a fast reader and if I start a good book, it's almost impossible to put it down until it's done. Somewhere along the line, when duties and responsibilities became a bigger part of my life, I all but stopped reading books. Occasionally I would have an all day/ late night fling where all of my other duties would suffer and time would stand still but mostly, I just didn't read.

In the last year or so, I've been trying to read more.  There's probably several reasons for that. It's partly just because I have the time and I've gotten into audio books but also because I know it's so good for my mind; so much better than the mindless other things I do instead. Most of the books I've been reading are ones I saw recommended by someone else. So, of course, you know what that made me think I should do.

I love the creativity so much. 

They're all crossing the street 

in the crosswalk....

But oh, dear me. Writing a book review is so much work! And I really hate writing when it takes a lot of work. 

Here's the thing. I am not good at taking a whole conversation with someone or a whole story or a whole book and relating it to someone else. My husband can come home from a meeting and, nearly verbatim, repeat to me what every person there said and did. I love it. But I don't have that ability. Of course, it probably goes back to the fact that I read too fast and can't remember half of it by the time I get done. I'm not sure how that corresponds to conversations but I have the same problem remembering those. 

We had a birthday girl last week...

And she got to have some

 friends over after school.

They had a little "tea party"...

A n y w a y.

There are several books I have read recently that maybe some of the rest of you would enjoy. I am not your typical 'book review' kind of person. I don't know my authors, I hate looking at books at thrift stores, I don't know genre and literary so forths and what have yous. We own very few books, especially when compared to a lot of readers that I know. Somehow I just never felt the need. I can get practically any book through our library system and if I buy it, there it will sit on a shelf after I've read it, and for what purpose? You book buyers feel free to argue with me and keep building bookshelves, I really don't mind; that's just not me. 

We've got our second

teen-age driver in the house. 

Those firsts don't really get less terrifying. 

I have at least four books I'd like to tell you about -- four books that I'm going to 'recommend'. I like that word better than 'review'. I don't think I'll even try to write reviews, as such. The very thought gives me a headache. And now that I have wasted all your time meandering around the subject, I think I'll leave my book recommendations for another day. 

Back soon!

PS. I don't know why I like sticking in random pictures that have nothing to do with the post. I hope you don't mind. 

Why, Hello There

Last week I wrote this really eloquent post about 'opening the door to a room that's been closed for nearly two months' in which I described the 'cobwebs and dust' and the room 'trying to get me to come back' and my arguments about 'tears and heartache and stories that can't be told'. Last night I re-read the draft and thought to myself, "How silly. Why don't you just  cut out the dramatics? Why don't you just say: A lot has happened. I can't talk about it. I want to get back to blogging. Here we go."

I like that a lot better than a creepy room with dust and cobwebs and a closed door.

Here we go.

    ----------------------------------------
Hi. My name is Bethany Eicher. I still live in Ohio with my husband, Chris, and our five children.

Chris and I,

at Calvary Bible School

this summer, 

where it all began 

Here we all are,

 in front of the cabin at CBS

where Chris and I

 spent our first night together. 

I wanted to try for a better

picture but it was all

I could do to persuade

some people

to even take one...

School has begun once again and this year finds me at home alone five days of the week.

First day of school

2019

I know. Unbelievable. Honestly? I am loving it. The quiet hours are just amazing and I feel slightly guilty every day for the amount of time I have on my hands to work on projects that have been pushed to the side for months. But I'm choosing to throw the guilt out the window and accepting each quiet day that I have as a special gift. These days could end at any time because several weeks ago we finally, finally became licensed for Foster Care.

Some day maybe I will tell you that whole story. Maybe. I'm not making any promises about anything right now. I've learned in the last six months that there are some things you just cannot write about. Sadly, I let that fact shut down my voice altogether. It's hard to be authentic and discreet; I finally convinced myself it was impossible. I'm still not sure how to make the two hold hands peacefully but I cannot stop writing. My soul has shriveled in these past months of silence and that is not what souls were meant to do.

A Fisher Price 'tag sale'...

The young entrepreneurs woke

up the next morning

to find $5 and a note saying

that daddy had bought

out the whole sale!

One of the projects I've been able to work on, in these golden, gifted days, is a dream that my mom had for years -- writing the birth story of the little mission church I was raised in in the hills of Arkansas. Ever since mom's death, we've been tossing this idea around that someone needs to write her book for her. My sister and I have finally... kinda-sorta-pretty-much... committed ourselves and it's been in that process of reading through stories and rewriting other's words that I've felt that spark again inside and I feel my soul breathing a sigh of relief.

So, here I yam. I know I don't owe any of you an apology, that all of you understand how life happens. But I have missed writing and interacting with you in this 'little room', if you will. Hopefully some of you are still hanging around to listen to my yammering and give me friendly encouragement after all this silence.

And now, it's a beautiful, glorious day outside and high time that I stepped out there and enjoyed some of it!

A Little Bit Of Vague And Haphazard

Summer vacation is here, with it's slow mornings and long evenings. We've had a lot of rain in Ohio and not so many summer-ish days. We haven't even made it to the lake yet this year, which is unusual for us.

Last week we put 40 quarts of strawberries away... in jam, small lunch containers in the freezer, and our stomachs. It's amazing how quickly a job like that goes these days!

We celebrated Chris's birthday...

And our 18th Anniversary...

Then and now!

Chris took the day off  Saturday and we had a most lovely day wandering around together. He's such a good sport when it comes to shopping, even if thrift stores are a hazard for too many cassette tapes and random books. 

He patiently waits 

while I browse though fabric

And good naturedly buys the Amish dresses at thrift stores that I suddenly realized would make cheap fabric for making dresses for my 9 and 11 year old girls. You can't beat $3.50 for a whole dress compared to $6 and $7 a yard fabric!

We did nothing fancy or extravagant; hit up Dairy Queen for lunch and played a round of miniature golf and talked and laughed and enjoyed each other's company. 

Came home to a messy house and a table full playing Monopoly and food that needed to be made for fellowship dinner the next day. Real life is always there waiting but out of the ordinary days sure help to give us fresh courage for the journey. 

In other news? In other news life is very ordinary. I do mounds of laundry that re-appear every time I turn around and cook piles of food that disappear just as quickly. I try to make myself put people to work and often end up letting them play too much. I putter around in my wet, little garden and work on my challenge to keep up with memorizing my girl's quiz passage. I'll tell you this, mom doing memory work does wonders for motivating a 9 year old! 

Underneath and in between it all, God keeps working away at our hearts; stretching us to places we never dreamed of and re-arranging our hearts in ways we never expected. I alternate between kicking and screaming at the process and marveling over the amazing ways He chooses to bring about His plan. One thing is for sure, God is creative beyond belief and as I read through Proverbs (our church is currently reading through the chronological Bible), I realize anew how wise it is live by His principles and direction.

I feel like I should apologize for the vague and haphazard post. But vague and haphazard seems to be the story of my life right now, so what can I say?

Off to take care of laundry and scrounge some lunch around.... and then I should make someone restock the fresh cookies and think ahead toward supper.......

Happy weekend!