By Cindy Nabb

As a mom I am responsible for clothing the family, not only to wash and dry but to purchase as well.  Shopping and buying clothes is a task I don’t take lightly.  Finding a good deal on clothing is important to me, but more important is what the clothing is saying.  I don’t mean the brand on the jeans or the cute little saying on the t-shirt, I mean what does the clothing say about who we are.  
 
When we look out our window and see people walking down the street we can tell a lot about someone by the way they are dressed.   You can distinguish nationality, gender, age, economic status.   We see a man in traditional Indian attire, a young lady in a sundress, an older gentleman in a fedora, and a power suit walking by.  Their clothing tells us who or what they are.  Does our clothing tell the world that we are Christians?  Does the way we present ourselves make a statement that we belong to Christ?  It should.  

It is more than keeping our skin covered although that is a good start.  It is a matter of humility.  I Peter 5:5 says “…all of you, clothe yourselves with humility toward one another…”   God wants us to clothe ourselves in humility.  That doesn’t mean we can, or should, dress shabbily, but our love and our character should be what people notice first about us.

 There are some simple tests to determine if your clothing is modest.  I encourage you young ladies to read Secret Keeper 2005: The Delicate Power of Modesty, by Dannah Gresh.  Mom’s you should read this, too.  Have a discussion with your daughters about the modesty rules and go through both of your closets and determine what meets the standards and what doesn’t.  One great thing to do is when you get back from shopping have a fashion show for dad and get his approval of all clothing before it gets worn outside of the house.  It takes work and searching for clothing that meets God’s standards but you will be blessed by being modest and you will bless others.

By Cindy Nabb

It is important that we invite people into our homes and into our lives.  Having someone over for dinner can be a rewarding experience and an effective tool to reach out to others, sharing our faith and our time.  Think about when you have been invited over to someone’s house that you didn’t know very well for a barbeque or for Sunday dinner.    It’s a chance to get to know someone at a level we don’t get to otherwise, to live our lives together, share our burdens with each other and offer friendship in ways we can’t do in 15 minutes on Sunday morning.  

I also believe that God is pleased when we open our homes and offer hospitality.  We are commanded to offer hospitality without complaining,  practice hospitality, entertain strangers, break bread together and bear one another’s burdens.

As a family we love to have people over.  We love the anticipation of getting the house ready, creating a meal, planning an activity and waiting for the arrival of our guests.  We try to have someone over to our house a few times a month.  We have a goal of having some one new over about once a month.  At times we don’t meet this goal as other things take priority in our weeks and months but we still try.  I encourage you to invite someone over this week to share a meal with you.  Here are some tips and ideas to help you get started.  May God bless you and your homes.

• Decide with your spouse how often you’d like to have others over.  Set a goal, choose supper or lunch.
• Kids love to plan parties so have them join in the process.
• Keep it simple.  Easy meals that all will enjoy.  Don’t worry about having a huge, elaborate meal.
• Make sure you ask your guests about any food allergies/intolerances they may have. 
• If your guests ask if they can bring something, take them up on their offer.  
• Go pot luck style.  Have the other family bring what they would have made for their family and add it to your menu.
• Use paper plates.  
• Team up with another family.  Take turns hosting.
• Meet at a park for a picnic.
• Get together for dessert.
• Have a basket of conversation starters to pass around on the table to spark conversation.  

“Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it.”

                                                                                                                                                            Hebrews 13:2

By Jason Nabb

There’s many things I imagined myself doing.  Lawyer, professional ATV rider, furniture builder.   I’ve even thought of myself as a famous photographer, filmmaker, entrepreneur, maybe I would own a large company someday.   I never really thought much about being a father.  It never occurred to me to consider what it means, or takes, to be a father.  It doesn’t make much sense to consider the idea of being a father unless you consider your own.  It’s been about a year and a half since my father passed away.

Since then, I’ve been trying to figure out what he meant to me.   I loved him, for sure.   I miss him incredibly, but I’m not sure what he meant to me.  I look back in my memory and try to grab ahold of some semblance of comraderie, some specific time when we connected.   I remember him being there, but, for the life of me, I can’t recall many specific moments and it’s driving me crazy.

I wonder if there are other guys out there like me who try to remember moments with their dad when you just clicked.   Like the first time he talked to you about girls, or the first time he let you drive the family car.   Once in awhile, I remember little things.  I remember how loud he could whistle when I was up to bat in little league.  He would cheer so loudly, even though I was sure to strike out.  I was only in little league for one season.  He’d whistle and hoot.  I asked him to, quite honestly, because I didn’t really have a fan club and I wanted to hear cheers from the crowd when I stepped up to the plate.   I wasn’t much of an athelete and nobody really cared much when I was up to bat.  That lone season in little league was the extent of my baseball career and saw a shining first base hit as its pinnacle moment.  Too bad the next batter fouled out to end the inning.  Even though I’ve never crossed home plate, I felt pretty good about myself and I feel as though I hung up my bat and glove and retired from baseball in my prime.  In part, because my dad came to watch.

I remember how he taught me to drive.  We used to go out of town and drive on country roads on Sunday afternoons.   I used to love those drives.  I remember one time, not more than a quarter of a mile from home.  It was a blind left turn on a hill.   I was behind the wheel of his 1969 F-100.   Three on the tree and a worn out clutch.  You had to ease it up a bit to see if anyone was coming, then sort of stop, then go again if it was clear.   We must have sat at that intersection for an hour while I killed it over and over again.  I wanted to give up.   I wanted to walk home.  I wanted to do anything except make that left turn in front of me.  He was so patient.  He just kept telling me to try again.  I finally made it and when we got home I was mad for the rest of the day.

I guess that these seemingly “little” things are more important to me than I realize.  We got along well enough.   He was never too tough on my brother and I.  He always talked to us as equals.  It’s not like he was never there for me.   He was a good provider.   He worked hard.   He tried his hand at different businesses.   He studied English in college.  He ended his career working in a nuclear power plant running a machine that required an incredible amount of mathematical and technical skill.  The machine actually eliminated the radioactivity found in the water that was used to cool the fuel rods that powered the plant.   He was sort of a renaissance man, in his own way.   He was smart, but I don’t remember a passion.  I don’t remember a bright shining light in his eyes.  I know he loved my brother and I, I just don’t remember any all-consuming desire for anything, in particular.

I think a kid wants to look at his dad and see fire in his belly.   Fire for something.  The pumping fist kind of fire that makes you want to butt heads and go kill something.  I think that’s what I wanted to see.  It really wasn’t there.   However, somehow, over the years of my childhood, he inspired me.   Quietly and patiently, perhaps more so through his inaction rather than his actions, he pushed me to do more than he had done.  I love him for that, and I always will.

By Cindy Nabb

My husband is self employed which means we don’t have the luxury of having health insurance.  We are covered if something major happens but the little stuff is all on our own.  We also have six children and when illness strikes our home it can last for weeks before everyone gets it and it can cost a small fortune if everyone went to the doctor, and got a prescription every time.  I had a dear friend introduce me to herbal and natural remedies.  From there it took off.   I am, by no means, all-knowledgeable of herbs and their potential to heal our bodies but I am a firm believer that God has put plants, minerals and even dirt on our planet for our benefit.  We see duplicity so often in God’s creation.  God is bigger than we can imagine and his plan so intricate that virtually everything serves more than one purpose.  Plants and flowers are not only beautiful and attractive, they’re also useful to us.

 I have read many books skimmed through even more.  The first book I read was one called The ABC Herbal: A Simplified Guide to Natural Health Care for Children by Steven Horne.  Other books to check out are Mommy Diagnostics (The Art of Taking Care of Your Family) Revised & Expanded, Herbal Antibiotics: Natural Alternatives for Treating Drug-Resistant Bacteria (Storey Medicinal Herb Guide) and I found a site that is especially helpful, mountainroseherbs.com.  These are all good references but nothing is better than just starting.  

So, I began creating herbal remedies for our family to take to keep us healthy and those to take when sickness did strike.  I picked a few recipes to start with and a handful of herbs to really learn about and went from there.  The first thing I made were glycerin tinctures.  I have since moved on to make alcohol tinctures as well as vinegar tincture.  It is not uncommon for us to have garlic in our ears for earaches, take steamy peppermint baths for a fever, garlic catnip enemas are given to small children with fevers, valerian and cayenne pepper for headaches, echinacea tincture is always stocked in our fridge and probiotics are a staple.  

We do still get sick but I have noticed that we don’t get as sick as we used to and not as often.  Our bodies are working better and we are healing faster.  It is possible to take control of your own health care and to not go to the doctor as often.  Our bodies are wonderful creations and have the ability to heal themselves, sometimes the just need a little help.

Trust in the LORD with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; 6 in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.  7 Do not be wise in your own eyes; fear the LORD and shun evil. 8 This will bring health to your body and nourishment to your bones.  —Proverbs 3:5-8