Now Available - In My Living Room!!!

Quivering Daughters : Hope and Healing for the Daughters of Patriarchy

Coming this June . . .

Love Streaming

am snuggly with my husband this Valentine's Day morning, warm coffee in hand and nibbling his special request: freshly baked Carrot muffins. My brain is mush this weekend. As I wrap up my book ~ for real! ~ doing some final tweaking in the next few days before I send it to my editor, I'm hit with an emotion I didn't expect . . . I'm almost sad! Not quite ~ but as I've spent the last year trying to turn pain into prose, wrap words around deep internal darkness, and listen to God's Spirit, Quivering Daughters is as much me as my very bones and skin.

And it is you, too.

I am in labor, and the time of fullness has come.

This is my first book so I don't know if this is normal or not. But despite nostalgia, I am so.so.so.so.so excited!! Look for it on Amazon in May! And sign up if you want advance notice. :-)

I hope all of you are having a lovely Love Day. Any special plans?

Blogging Break

My friends, it's time for me to take an indefinite break from active blogging while I spend the next season working on my book. There are a few key articles I'm writing that pertain to the scope of Quivering Daughters, as well as for The Quiverfull Daughter, so as I complete them, they will appear ~ but I must prioritize my focus to this book.

Please feel free to explore the archives, to comment, and to email ~ I truly appreciate your prayers and support, and it blesses me deeply to hear about your lives, your journeys, your struggles, thoughts, and experiences.

You may also keep up with me on Facebook while I'm between paragraphs. = )

Remember, as you seek recovery from the wounds of your past, that it is essential to acknowledge the truth of your pain for lasting healing to occur. Remaining in denial only postpones wholeness. Jesus is with you; take Him into the darkness and let His lovingkindness bring light, and life. His compassions fail not; they are new every morning.

May God sustain you; may His grace and love give you strength and serenity throughout this New Year. He is our healer!

In the shadow of His wings,

Hillary

So I Married a Fundamentalist Family

Four years ago, a trail of beaded lace swept along the plush burgundy carpet as Margaret walked down the aisle to meet the man of her dreams. She'd always remarked upon the significance of that journey past old familiar pews, bedecked with luscious bows of fluffy tulle, fresh roses, and smiling faces. "It's like the slate was being wiped clean," she says. "The past and future connected when we joined hands, but everything became new." She grows quiet; hazel eyes flicker with shadows. "Life started over."

In the bliss of a newly-wedded life, Margaret and John were unprepared for the dormant roots biding time within her heart. When two years later they sprouted green with life, husband and wife were rocked in ways they'd never anticipated. "Poor John—he didn't realize he was marrying my mom and dad, too," Margaret told me. "And even though there are some good things from my life, somehow it's the hard stuff, the struggles and issues, that carry over." She laughs with rue. "Why is that? Why do we have to be so human? It's taken a long time to get back on track—God's helped a lot, but there are still many things we're going through, that if I'd only known about before I got married, would eliminate some of the struggles we have. You see, I left home, but my mind, my emotions, ideas, everything else about me—they stayed behind."

My parents always said, "You marry a man, you marry his family." In many ways, this is very true. And sometimes, he marries yours. What Margaret shares is experienced by many young wives adjusting to the realities of a new home environment. It doesn't mean marriage loses its luster, but that unexpected dynamics may arise and create unique trials largely unaddressed within traditional counseling and lay resources.

My husband, one of two, still laughs remembering the first time he met mine. "I'd never even heard of someone having that many kids," he admits. I took this psychology major to a family picnic for his inauguration to conservatism. The older ones surged to meet him with grins and hugs and jokes about the Name Test coming later. The younger ones stared. "Hillary's boyfriend," they whispered, mouths gaped and eyes wide. But it didn't take long for reticence to flee and soon they were sneaking up, poking and prodding like he was from outer space, then running off in a cloud of giggles.

It was new for them, too.

"John is so patient with me," says Margaret. "But he couldn't understand how I'd read the Bible and hear my dad's voice in my head. My father was a pastor and all I could hear was the Word thundering down from the pulpit or at the dinner table. Thou shalt not . . . thou shalt not . . . it followed me everywhere, over every little thing I did. And sometimes it was hard to hear what John was saying, because my family was so ingrained in the core of my being. Even though I tried to listen to my husband, sometimes my dad would drown him out in my own head. But I didn't mean for it to be that way."

Margaret illustrates one of the practical problems of codependency, or enmeshment, within an unhealthy or dysfunctional family.

How do you leave home emotionally?

________
Names and identifying details have been changed to preserve anonymity.
Image credit: stock.xchng

Quiverfull Daughters —The Aching of Esau

You never show us what you write.” Mom looked disappointed.
“I will!” I assured her. But what? My young mind riffled through notebooks, scanning titles, stories, songs. I always felt too shy, embarrassed to reveal my scribblings. Despite me “telling,” a sister already derived ecstatic glee over long, flowy descriptions of self-deprecation, crushes, and struggles in the journal I tried to keep private; I wasn't about to draw more attention to myself. What did I have that was safe enough to show?

Quiverfull Daughters: Little Mothers, Little Sisters

I’m having a bad day today. I’m just so tired! I’m so tired of working—there is always something that needs to be done and dad is never satisfied. I’m tired of being overwhelmed with everything. I’m tired of washing dishes every night, I wish that the house would stay clean for 2-3 days—the kids are always cutting up paper, getting out toys, splashing water all over the bathroom sink, getting mud and sand all over the bathroom floor. I’m tired of doing laundry—there are mountains of it daily and I am tired of putting clothes away. I’m tired of people not doing their jobs; I’m tired of my brother’s arguing and endless supply of unnecessary words (though he is sweet a lot and has been a lot today), my sister’s constant fits and defiance and screaming, I’m tired of getting mad at my brothers and sisters, I wish I were perfect. I absolutely abhor the thought that every idle word will be judged . . . lately I have been doing some self-analyzing, or examining—I’m trash . . . I’m sick of disappointing God.

This is a tiny excerpt from the journal I kept growing up. Outsiders look at words like these and quickly assume roots of laziness sprouted in me, but words cannot do justice to the constant extreme tiredness I felt, the heartache, the struggles, my guilt over impatience and failures, copious amounts of stress, even mental fatigue . . . even before I turned 14.

Admittedly, my  perspective is from one who became a little mother—a child compelled to adopt care-taking roles earlier than most, earlier than healthy. But the Quiverfull life doesn't only affect the oldest daughters. Younger siblings experienced the "bossiness" of my perfectionist self, my efforts to "help", to keep things efficient and under control, efforts to be obedient and pleasing to God and parents, and the pressure of trying to live up to expectations both I and others laid upon me.

Just as I received the frustrations of petulant brothers and sisters screaming "You're not the mom!" and "You're not the boss of me!", they felt the pressure of having not only a dad and mom telling them what to do, how to behave, what to think, and how they should perform, but an older sister who attempted awkwardly to carry out mom and dad's wishes within the family.

Quiverfull Parents

As numbers swelled with mommy's tummy, more and more household details rested on my shoulders. I am filled with sadness that instead of mom, many times my dear brothers and sisters suffered a surrogate "mom" who was often more frazzled and worn out than our real one.  And while my siblings never understood the angst inside, the internal war, nor heard my nightly secret sobs to "help me be loving and sweet and kind", they did hear the demands, the rages, the lack of sleep, the short-temper. They saw a red face, harsh mouth. They witnessed the public admonitions to be patient and to pray about my attitude. What influence did it have—on both of us? They did not deserve this injustice. The younger children needed quality parental attention just as much as the older ones. Their needs were just as important as mine.

In a Quiverfull family, everyone is affected, for good, for bad; in healthy ways, and unhealthy. Mothers devote body and womb to pregnancy and the effects of hormones while cultivating new life. Fathers receive new life to provide for, to raise, to hold before God. And the children born into this environment bring unique strengths, needs, desires, challenges, and personalities, all precious in the eyes of God.

Blessings, yes. But serious blessings.

We all sacrifice something. Those who adopt a Quiverfull life have the privilege of choice—cognizant awareness and deliberate, intentional selection of lifestyle based upon conviction.

I beseech Quiverfull parents to humbly remember that your children do not have the freedom to choose, as you have. Your children are unable to seek God's will, count the costs, and go forth with full knowledge of what lies ahead. Please have grace and mercy upon these little ones, who often sacrifice quality time with mom and dad because other needs arise, who often become hands and feet and shoulders while caring for others; who sometimes struggle in silence, trying to reconcile the true nature of God with what they see and hear on a daily basis. Ones who perpetuate the pressure they feel, and react to the demands presented them; ones perhaps never completely understood—children created with individuality, in Imago Dei.

I beg parents to put forth the effort to know your children individually, for just as God has blessed you, He has made them, singularly and unparalleled, with each soul relating to others, themselves, to God, and the world, in special, precious ways. It is destructive to blanket an entire family with the same parenting formula. Each child needs parenting based upon the uniqueness God has gifted them; it takes time, energy, and discipline—a challenge, even in smaller families—to attend offspring with such tenderness, but such is the responsibility of mothers and fathers.

Quiverfull Daughters

If you are firstborn, do you feel as though you've grown up too fast and lost your childhood? Are you burdened by unrelenting expectations? Are your parents too busy with the younger children to spend quality time with you? Do you feel as though they call you a "blessing" because of what you do, not who you are? Do you feel perpetually exhausted?

If you are middleborn, do you feel overlooked and overshadowed? Are you old enough to have a lot of chores, but too young to have certain privileges? Do you feel unnoticed, unimportant, insignificant? Too old to crawl into your mother's lap or enjoy playtime, but too young to do anything fun?

If you are last, do you feel that you have five other mothers telling you what to do? Do you feel you never have a break and that everyone tattles on you? Do you feel that you never do anything right, that you are compared to successful older sisters? Does it seem you pay for your older siblings' mistakes? Did their problems cause your parents to exercise more strictness or control?

These are mere samplings of the emotions and struggles experienced by daughters within a quiverfull household, for if there is imbalance within a family, all daughters will have pain. But I believe that as quiverfull daughters, our place in the family is distinctly chosen by God. He knows our strengths, our weaknesses, our futures, hurts and sorrows.  Whether we are first, middle, or last within our family, our lives bear His handprint, His heartprint.

While we often feel lost in the shuffle, He who sees a sparrow fall knows your deepest dreams, hopes, and fears; He holds gently secret tears that water your pillow at night. Your exhaustion, performance, and service, the demands, pressure, and austerity you feel does not miss His eye. He knows your cries, your loneliness, your longing to matter to those you love, to feel important in their eyes, to feel special. To feel that you are a blessing.

God designed us to seek Him face to face, to discover His will for our lives. As children of the Perfect Father, sisters to a billion souls, we can rest, knowing He loves us individually; but until we truly believe in His love for us, we will experience difficulty understanding how we bear significance to God Himself—and wounds remain unhealed.

Dear Heavenly Father, You know the thoughts and dreams You have of us, to give us a hope and a future. You see the pain lurking with the hearts of quiverfull daughters; you see the pressures they feel and the expectations placed on them by others, in Your name. I beg You to make Yourself known to these precious sisters, to make Your love known in deep, significant ways, so that they see how truly You adore them and grieve for the hurts and sorrows that they feel. You created them, just as they are, and yet so many feel discouraged and selfish for having feelings, dreams, desires, and needs in the first place. Comfort these dear women, and lead them on a journey straight to You. Heal and restore them, I ask You; give them strength and wisdom as they go forth in life. Be glorified in them, dear Lord, and may their families see You in their daughter's life. Thank You that You love us and want to be known by us. In Jesus Name, Amen.

Update (Updated 9 / 15!!)

 Update: Life is an adventure and as I mentioned here, sometimes I make plans and the Lord refines them for me. :-) In the past several days, I have had a schedule change, gone out of town, my husband's grandfather passed away, and numerous big and little events conspired against the deadline I gave myself. Perhaps in my zeal I spoke too hastily. This book has been commissioned from Him since the beginning, and the timing is in His hands. Thank you for understanding.

_____________________________

This is a very impromptu post today :-) . I am working feverishly on my book and hope and pray to be finished with writing within the next 6 to 8 weeks, Lord willing--then on to editing. I say that, knowing He has other plans sometimes. :-) I am also putting together a personal blog which will reflect a bit more personality, feature other topics, and not always address the heavy subjects found here on the Quivering Daughters blog.

My newsletter is in the works and you can always find me on Facebook. :-)

This book is very much a journey for me, complete with all of the joy and pain that comes from digging into wounds and exposing raw, deep places. Just today God re-shaped the ending into something that sent me to my face, weeping. My heartfelt desire is that all of my sisters in blood and spirit will know the absolute joy which comes from the power of God transforming heart and mind through His Spirit and truth! He heals, restores, and ministers in ways I never dreamed possible. No words can do justice to the beauty of His mercy, grace and love.

My posts may become a little more sporadic ;-) while I streamline my attention to this book. To all of my friends and readers--thank you for your patience. Thank all of you who have taken  time to send notes of encouragement and lift prayers to our Heavenly Father on my behalf and for this book. Although He has appointed me to carry, and to labor with these words, He is the breather and giver of life. May He be glorified.

I remain His handmaiden.

Introduction

Welcome!

When I first begin talking about my book Quivering Daughters, many people ask instantly why I haven't written it before now. A valid question, for I have dabbled in writing since I was a wee lassie of six, when my homeschooling mother would present to me lists of words for creative inclusion with poetry, story, or song. The short answer is: much living was required of me before the fullness of time and the Spirit of God spoke in unity.

The long answer, I expect, will be drawn out over the course of the next several months.

I hope that you check back often as I chronicle this journey and share what I have learned. This blog will serve as my sounding board; to test the waters, and post articles and resources I have found helpful. Ultimately I hope that hungry souls will find relief through the work of my hands and the words of my heart. I humbly bow before my Creator in awe of His presence within my life, praying that you will be blessed as this project unfolds.

Feel free to leave comments, ask questions, and send messages! I love feedback.