Tuesday, April 16, 2024

My Rich Life, Indeed

 On June 6, 1987, Rick and I were married in front of 200+ guests at a church we'd only visited once by a pastor we barely knew.  Our ceremony was beautiful and full of friends and relatives who were probably breathing a sigh of relief that their friends had finally found their soul mates.  We had a super great time at our wedding and reception, but do you know what I remember the most?  Striking the word "obey" from our wedding vows. In my remarkably immature 28 years of age, I thought there was absolutely no way I would ever obey my husband. I considered myself formidably independent and in no need of subjugation by another human.

Eight years later Rick asked if I would support him should he decide to launch a private consulting business with his friend, Gregg. Up to this point Rick had been in the banking industry, specifically the lending department. And from the onset of our relationship Rick had determined that he wanted to be a bank president, someday. Now, he was suddenly asking me to support a new and scary business venture ~ one that came without a steady, assured paycheck.

Truth be told I'd married Rick for many things, one of those reasons being his accounting background and desire to ascend the workplace ladder to the top. We were both working and living comfortably. I briefly wondered if Rick could support our lifestyle and what changes may come as a result. 

Because I'd grown up with a father who worked as a social worker for the county government, I knew how tight money could be, especially with two children to feed. As a teenager I remembered my father asking my mother if she would support his desire to work full-time as a dog trainer rather than as a social worker. (My father loved all animals and excelled as a horse and dog trainer. His great uncle was a famous horse jockey named Fred Taral. Look it up. He's listed on Wikipedia.)  "No. We need your steady paycheck, Nick." I will never know, but I think my father regretted not tackling his dream and heart's desire to work full time as a professional dog trainer. 

So when Rick asked me for support to start a consulting business, not missing a beat, I said, "Of course."  Seven years later, this consulting practice became a non-profit business/ministry and we found ourselves leading a life of ministry.  The company name evolved from Integrity Management to Unconventional Business Network over a span of about 10 years.

There were hard lessons for me to learn when Rick left the banking industry to pursue his calling.  We experienced some very, very lean years, but also rejoiced during profitable years. My learning curve took place very slowly.  But I finally began to understand that God would provide for our needs ~ on His timetable ~ and I need not worry about His provisions.  

There were very deep, deep valleys that we walked through along with great disappointments.  Working in a ministry, albeit a business ministry, could be utterly painful and quite lonely. People tend to view you differently when they learn you are in the ministry. 

I learned to stand strong in the wake of vicious storms in life. Satan loved to attack our family, but we stood strong. Our children learned the value of prayer. And they learned that life is not always 'living happily ever after'. As of this writing, both daughters are navigating life's challenges with grace and gritty determination ~ trusting God to move them forward.

By obeying the still, small voice of God to stand alongside and support Rick, I also learned to trust in Rick's wisdom and insight. I learned, too, that the biblical definition of OBEY is different than the world of today's definition. 

A biblical definition of obedience means for a wife to "confidently follow her husband's lead for he does have a responsibility for leadership in their home". It's only as a leader ~ not as a tyrant or superior ~ that he leads.  As Focus on the Family writes, "Leadership doesn't give a husband the right to rob his wife of being a unique individual. And he should never misuse leadership to get his own way." 

As Rick and I walked through the 25+ years of leading this ministry, I have learned to trust, honor and affirm Rick's leadership. In response, Rick has grown to trust my instincts and listen carefully to my input. We are a team. We work to honor and affirm one another's strengths and talents. To me, this is obedience in God's eyes.

We are called to obey for the sake or each other ~ either in protection of our marriage or to nurture one another. Rick and I work together to live as visible signs of God's unconventional love.






Friday, January 19, 2024

Beautiful Truths

Today I find myself thinking of people who taught me beautiful truths. Whether they explained ideas or their explanations for life circumstances, I learned. How I wish I could go back in time to thank each one of those exemplary teachers who imparted their wisdom. I am deeply grateful for those who, just by BEING, taught me many life lessons.

I am grateful for my mother who once said to me, "I know you're upset and angry, Kathy. Go work outside in your yard.  You'll feel better." This was during the season of breast cancer and I was struggling mightily with fear and anger. Fear that I might still die, and anger that I might still die. I did go outside and began to pull weeds with reckless abandon. And with each additional dandelion I yanked from the ground, I felt that fear and anger lessen its grip on my soul. As I know now, exercise in almost any form can act as a major stress reliever. Activity boosts the good-feeling endorphins and help distract us from daily worries. I still find pulling weeds to be therapeutic along with a fast-paced walk while telling God exactly how I feel about something.

While a sophomore in college, I met a group of students who were Christians.  They attended regular meetings and hosted many fun activities through an organization called Campus Crusade for Christ. During this time I was very wayward ~ including in not-good-for-you activities ~ that left me feeling empty, sour and probably, depressed. My answer to these feelings was to drown them away with drink. I did attend one such meeting and found everyone miserably "happy". I felt out-of-place and left quickly. The next day I crossed my dorm hallway to chat with person who seemed to genuinely wear her faith with joy and peace.  Two sentences are all that I remember, but they were enough to make a huge imprint in my life.  "Donna, I can't be like you and your friends," to which Donna replied, "You don't need to be like us. God loves you for who you are." Not wanting to hear more, I left soon thereafter. The end of school was near and Donna would marry and move far away. I wonder about her from time to time.  It would take me many years to understand that God does love us ~ despite our many failings and individual poor choices.

Another beautiful truth to share involves my husband, Rick. We'd only been married nine years when I was diagnosed with breast cancer. We had two young children ~ Megan, just turned six, and Jeremy, four years old with autism. Life was difficult, challenging and full of pain. Looking back I can't imagine how Rick must've felt during this time. Fear, a resolve to keep marching forward despite the difficult steps we found ourselves taking and the unimaginable thought that, perhaps, I might die. My chemotherapy treatment had finished the end of April and we were lying in bed reflecting one night in early June. Wrapped in each others arms I remember confiding to Rick, "I feel so ugly." I was a pale ashen color and had just a hint of hair growth. "I feel so ugly." My strong, not-always-so-sensitive husband turned to me, left my chin and said, "You are more beautiful to me tonight than the day I married you." Can you imagine? He thought I was even more beautiful ~ without any hair.  That night I learned the meaning of unconditional love. Despite my many poor choices and failings, I appeared to be lovable and cherished. Unbeknownst to me at the time, Rick's words served as a balm to my soul and eventually helped me understand the value of God's unconditional love for me. 

 My father once said, "The difference between a successful person and a non-successful person is in the ability to "delay gratification".  He was talking about studying and doing well in school so that I could have a vocation/career to sustain me as an adult. I took this to heart and finished college with a B.S.N. fully capable of supporting myself as a young woman. During my many years of college, the importance of delaying gratification served me well. Money was tight and I lived frugally to make ends meet. Upon graduation, when I received my first paycheck as a registered nurse, and then, fully understood the importance of my father's words. 

Thank you, God, for giving me instructions, lessons, guidance and warnings when I was ready to be taught. I pray that You would do the same for those I deeply love. Amen.




Thursday, December 15, 2022

Mustard Seed (A Story for Those I Love)

 "And Jesus said to them, 'Because of the littleness of your faith; for truly I say to you, if you have faith the size of a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move; and nothing will be impossible to you.'"  ~ Matthew 17:20

"... with the Lord, one day is as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day." ~ 2 Peter 3:8

My grandpa was a lot of fun to be around.  I remember him laughing a lot and he was quick witted. Yes, he would have a temper when Grandma pushed for something, but he'd quickly leave the room for awhile and smoke a cigarette for its calming effect.  Unfiltered. Lucky Strikes. 

I wish I knew more about Grandpa. He died from emphysema at the age of 75 when I was just 17. At this point in my life, my world revolved around ME.  But make no mistake, I loved my grandpa. 

Grandpa's name was Fred Lee. He was born in 1899 to James Lee and Annie Laurie Doran. My great-grandpa was from China, but we don't know much about him.  (As of this writing I'm having trouble finding out how and when he died.) However, Fred seemed to be a resilient kind of guy.  He lived through smallpox in his younger years with the pox scars to prove it. He survived both World War I and, lived through the pandemic Influenza with the help of his war buddy who offered Fred sips of brandy, so he said.

Yet, my grandpa would have a lifelong habit of smoking cigarettes that he just couldn't shake. Starting in his 60's, my grandpa began suffering from emphysema, a brutal disease that literally made taking breaths a monstrous effort. He would sit with a nebulizer 4x/day hoping the medicine would open his airways so he could breath more easily. Tragic.

On my 5th birthday my beloved grandpa gave me a tiny mustard seed necklace. I remember asking Grandpa what the little seed meant. As best as I can remember, he said, "The Bible says, 'If ye have the faith of a mustard seed, you can move mountains.'"  I cherished this necklace.

Reflecting on Grandpa's gift: Their seeds are very small, but they grow large. The mustard seed in Jesus' example symbolizes the potential in faith. When a believer begins their journey, they have just begun to learn about how much God loves them, how much He wants to do for them, and all that He has for them.

As a little girl, I'd stand in front of a tree, or something relatively unmovable by human strength alone, and command it to move. Of course, the tree or whatever didn't move and I grew disenchanted by my grandpa's words. "Maybe I don't have enough faith."  

It wasn't until years later that I uncovered the meaning of the tiny mustard seed. My prayers aren't always answered the way I want them to. And I've learned that God's timetable isn't like my personal timetable. But I have learned that God does hear my prayers and sometimes He gives me quick answers.  Sometimes not. Mostly I've learned that given patience, God will reveal His plan for our lives when He is ready to do so.

Lastly, know that just as I cherish time with you, God cherishes time with us.  Sometimes I just want to be with you and watch you engage in life. I suspect God is the same.  He loves to spend time with the one He created.  And through time with God, our faith flourishes just like the little mustard seed.

The mustard seed is very tiny; 1-2 mm. in diameter, yet when fully grown, the tree can be as tall as 20-30 ft. with branches and leaves spanning across another 20 ft. circumference. The magnificence of the mustard tree is not really in the height but in how wide the branches can span. It’s like a massive canopy.

Friday, November 25, 2022

Chariots and Horses

 "Now I know that the Lord saves His anointed; He answers him from His holy heaven with the saving power of His right hand. Some trust in chariots and others in horses, but we trust in the name of the Lord our God." ~ Psalm 20:6-7

It all happened so fast; within 3 weeks, actually.  First, I learned of my breast cancer, then came the needle biopsy, then quickly thereafter, surgery to remove the cancer in my right breast.  Now I faced a terribly difficult decision. How, or was, I to be treated in the aftermath of surgery?

Surely I wanted to live.  Megan was just 5 years old, Jeremy recently turned 4 yrs. old. I was young ~ just 36 years old.  We wanted to fight the cancer but didn't like the idea of adding chemicals to my already weakened body.

So Rick and I prayed. And prayed. And prayed. 

For a short season, Rick was leaning towards no chemotherapy because of a Bible verse he'd recently come across. "Some trust in chariots and others in horses, ..."  He wondered if God was saying, "Trust in me, not in chemotherapy." I wasn't so sure, but I did see his point. So we prayed some more.

God answered our prayers through two people who delivered a clear and unified message.

The next morning I received two telephone calls from my two different doctors ~ my oncologist and my surgeon.  "You need chemo, Kathy.  This cancer is super aggressive and we are concerned.  You're young with two small children.  Fight the cancer with all your might."

Having been a hematology/oncology nurse in earlier years, I knew what I was in for. Nausea, hair loss, fatigue, low blood counts which meant susceptibility to infections.  Chemotherapy isn't pretty.

With a heavy heart but strong resolve, I met with my oncologist and started chemo just two weeks following surgery. And it certainly was a trial. One week of sickness, one week of fatigue, then one week of feeling pretty good.  This was the cycle for 4 months. And I can say that I felt and looked awful without any hair including eyebrows and eyelashes!  To say that I blended in with the white walls was an understatement as I was pale as can be with big dark circles around both eyes.  

During my battle with cancer, I had many well-meaning friends encourage me to "stay positive," and "you have to believe that you can beat this cancer".  I'd laugh to myself because early in my treatment phase, I knew WHO was going to either heal me in death or heal me in life.  God.  

Yet, I persevered and finished the fight.  I credit God for using others to help me make the wise choice to submit to further treatment. My trust was in God, who used chemo to mop-up any remaining cancer cells. 

We don't have the power to beat our diseases like cancer, but God does.  Yet, we know that some are healed through life, others through death.  God allowed me to live for awhile longer on this earth and I am eternally grateful.  

As of today, I have been in remission for 27 years and all three of our children are now adults.  Both daughters have given me grandchildren. At this stage in my life I hope to exhibit unconditional love for our grandchildren just as Jesus has shown unconditionally love to me.  And I pray for our family and  future generations.  One day God will call me home to heaven.  It may be through cancer, an accident or simply through old age. But I trust Him to carry me in His capable arms along this journey called life.  


Saturday, October 22, 2022

Vision of Oppression

 It was an intensely stressful season in my life, but a phone call from my friend, Steve, helped put it all into perspective for me. 

First, Jeremy was diagnosed with autism. 

The years before Jeremy was diagnosed with autism were wearying and full of anxiety.  I knew in my gut that something was wrong with our beautiful little boy, and truth be told, suspected autism.  But no one would seriously take heed of my concerns including the pediatrician and my husband. For two years I wrestled within myself with two opposing voices in my head.  First, the negative thoughts, "You worry too much.  Jeremy's just a late bloomer.  You're comparing him to your older, very verbal 3-year-old daughter." Then the positive thoughts, "Maybe Jeremy will be okay. Maybe if I work a little harder teaching (Jeremy) words and hosting more boy play dates with friends, he will perk-up."  

I vacillated between feelings of guilt or responsibility for Jeremy's delayed development.   I was so internally anxious that I even sent myself to counseling just to have someone listen to me and not think I was crazy.

With my burdened past I  worked diligently to somehow prove to God that I was worthy of His love and grace.  However, as much as I worked to control my anxieties and trust God, in reality I was full of anxiety and deep feelings of worthlessness from previous choices in life.

Finally, when Jeremy was almost four years old,  I received an official diagnosis from health care professionals.  Jeremy had pervasive developmental disorder aka autism. I poured an extra measure of guilt into my soul.  "Why did you wait? It's your fault for not taking the initiative to push harder." After self-condemnation, I remember thinking, "I can fix this." From the moment our son was diagnosed I began a sure and steady campaign to learn all about how to help our beautiful son, Jeremy.  

Soon the holidays brought a season of respite and great fun for our family. We were able to celebrate with both sets of grandparents and family from St. Louis.  I was finding a measure of peace in life.  Megan was doing well with first grade homeschool, and Jeremy was receiving daily therapy from a special developmental preschool. 

Second, I was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Between Christmas and New Years I felt a curious thickening in my right breast while in the shower.  I was scheduled for a biopsy within a week or two.  Rick and I were encouraged by friends who gathered to pray. I really wasn't worried about any breast cancer.  But, then I received a mysterious phone call from a serious, be speckled gentleman who attended our church. 

The day before my scheduled biopsy, I received a phone call.  "Kathy?" asked Steve, "Do you have a few minutes to talk?"  This sounded serious.  Our friend then, proceeded to share that he'd been praying for me and believed God had given him a vision.  Here is what he told me:

"I saw you standing in your living room with a HUGE fly on your back.  And, this fly totally covered your entire back - it was that large.  Then, suddenly, two men transported from the ceiling into the living room.  (Think Star Trek.) At this point, the fly changed into a man, and the two men kicked the fly-man out the front door. He is gone and will never be allowed to return.

I share this with you because I believe God wants you to know that He's allowed Satan to oppress (sift) you, but now He is lifting that oppression so that you can more fully fight what's coming your way. 

Kathy, life isn't always easy.  But God wants you to know that you can move forward with greater strength now that (Satan's) oppression has been lifted."

From scripture I know that "the devil prowls around looking for someone to devour" (1 Peter 5:8), that he bides his time for opportune moments (Luke 4:13), that he puts thoughts into our heads (John 13:2), that his suggestions must be firmly resisted (James 4:7) and shares how to resist them (Ephesians 6:10-20). ~ World Magazine, August 20, 2013.

Furthermore, I know from the Bible that Jesus proclaimed to Peter, "Peter, Peter, Satan has asked permission to sift you." (Luke 22:31) But God uses these experiences for our good (Romans 8:28), to refine our character and, to strengthen our faith (1 Peter 1: 6-7 and James 1: 2-4, 12). 

God had allowed Satan to sift me as a Christian woman. It was an excruciating two years of trial, but by the time my cancer was exposed, I was stronger and better able to cope with life.

To this day I stand in amazement that God would use this gentle and prayerful business man to share the vision with me.  But He did and I'm eternally grateful for His lifting the oppression.  Like Peter, I was allowed to be sifted by Satan aka Beelzebub*.  I had struggled emotionally and physically the two years prior to my diagnosis with breast cancer.  While I went on to suffer greatly with chemotherapy and surgery, I did so without the painful anxieties I'd experienced previously.  Through my trials, I was strengthened and learned about the power in the name of Jesus.

There are spiritual wars taking place between the forces of God and the forces of evil. But remember this, beloved, "In the name of Jesus, every knee will bow and every tongue will confess that Jesus Christ is Lord." (Philippians 2:10) When I'm faced with difficult situations or assaulted with less-than-holy thoughts, I now am able to voice aloud, "Jesus, help me!" with confidence and full trust in His deliverance.

*(Beelzebub, prince of devils, from Latin; from Greek, Beelzeboub; from Hebrew, 
Ba'al Zebhubh, a Philistine god, literally, lord of the flies ~ taken from Merriam-Webster)








Friday, December 8, 2017

The Power of Words

"Wise speech is rarer and more valuable than gold and rubies."  Proverbs 20:15

"Gentle words bring life and health; a deceitful tongue crushes the spirit."  Proverbs 15:4


     My friend heard, "I'm perfect.  My dad says so!"  I struggled when my friend suddenly turned and flounced off towards another of our threesome.  For what seemed an eternity, three days, I stood alone on the playground watching my friends have fun together playing four-square.  This was fourth grade and friendships were solidly formed in my elementary school.  Most of us had attended classes together since first or second grade.  Suddenly I was without a friend in the world and feeling all alone.

     Fortunately I had a mother who was willing to try to "fix" my problem.  I just couldn't understand why my friend had distanced herself from me so suddenly.  Mom called my friend's mother to gain a better understanding of why this rift had occurred.  The issue was so simple:  I had stumbled with confusing the words "perfectionist" and "perfect"!  

     This would be a struggle in my life for years to come.  As an adult I have worked to solidly word-smith my choice of words with thought and wisdom.  Today I think I'm a fair-to-good communicator, but there are times when I struggle to find the right words to speak.  And I have studied and practiced how to think more carefully before speaking to others.  I have a tendency to want to speak quickly and without tact when trying to make a point.  My apologies come swiftly and from the heart, but I do wish my tongue could be better tamed.

Recently I came across a list of time-tested principles for women searching to make an impact on another without causing pain.  Here they are:

1.  Slow down.  Think before you speak.  So often I speak before thinking through the effect my words will have on another.  My father could be blunt and often to the point, and I can be the same way. I am a works-in-progress and continue to try to learn this skill.  

2.  Talk less.  This is especially difficult for extroverts like myself.  But as I practice, I've learned more about others and appreciate their words. A dominate speaker can be exhausting in any conversation.  Sincere authentic listening is a gift to be learned as one walks through life.  

3.  Ask for forgiveness when you've offended or hurt someone.  This I learned as early as my fourth grade crisis.  I sought out my friend and apologized for my remarks.  Thankfully all was forgiven quickly and we resumed playing together at recess.  

4.  Hide God's Word in your heart.  As I've grown older it has become harder for me to memorize anything, much less God's Word.  Thanks to Google, though, I can usually find a verse quickly by simply asking.  

5.  Ask yourself, are my words kind, helpful, necessary, tender, truthful ...?  Sensitive truthfulness  is something that I have asked God to lavish upon me.  

6.  Our words expose our hearts.   I have learned that words are like a two-edged sword.  Words can either heal or tear apart.  I want my words to make a positive difference in another's life.

7.  "The things that come out of mouth come from the heart ..." (Matthew 15:18) There are some subjects that I just know aren't good for me.  I have vivid memories of watching the Sunday afternoon horror movies after church.  I loved spooky shows, read true life murder books and listened to all sorts of rock-n-roll artists.  

Over the years God has gently encouraged me to be more sensitive and careful about what I read, watch or listen to.    

As I approach my 60's my prayer is that God helps me to tailor my words so that I can make a positive difference in other people.  

List contributed by Mark Batterson, "Whisper".

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Forever My Mom

 "Honor your father and mother, so that you may live long in the land the LORD, your God is giving you."  ~ Exodus 20:12

      Born on June 24, 1934, my mother entered this world as an only child of Fred & Florence Lee.  The country was in the throes of the Great Depression, but my mother's parents lived comfortably on their combined salaries. They helped family members who were less fortunate during this time. Fred was a Sales Regional Manager with the American Can Company and Florence worked for the government in the Defense Department.  Within two years Fred, Florence and Nancy would travel to from Milwaukee to Kansas City to establish their home.

     My sister and I are the recipients of the heritage left by our grandparents and parents.  Nancy married Nick Taral in August 1956 and I was born two years later in 1958. As our mother faces the remaining months of her life, I seek to share my heritage in an effort to honor this woman who gave birth to me, her eldest daughter.
     
     For most of my adult years I struggled to have an authentic relationship with my mother.  Nancy was kind, very generous and had a full heart for serving without notoriety.  On the flip side, she was insecure and lived in fear of making others angry and, was deeply involved (too much so) with her family's lives.  Florence was a strict, critical and demanding mother, albeit one who loved her family deeply.  Nancy loved Florence, but was really much closer to her father, Fred.   Fred was full of life and often the "life of the party," whereas Florence was the "hostess with the most".  Nancy was a mixture of both her parents.

     My mother and I began the distance-dance when I turned fifteen.  The center of my world no longer revolved around my family, but was firmly rooted in school friend's circles.  As an adult, I realize now how difficult it is to begin stepping away as your children learn to fly into the semi-adult worlds of junior & high school.  Then our worlds imploded with one unexpected bomb at age sixteen, I became pregnant.

     The decision to have an abortion was one decision that irrevocably changed our family dynamics for the worse.  Nick signed the papers permitting the abortion and Nancy drove me for the procedure.  Nick expressed no remorse for the actual abortion, itself, for the duration of his life, but Nancy experienced deep grief, remorse and guilt over her part as the mother-of-the-pregnant-teenager.  Our family would not talk about this event for many, many years.  Only upon his deathbed did Nick share that he felt badly about my pregnancy, but believed that life truly begins with the newborn's first breath.  Nancy wasn't quite so sure.

     Nancy has lived 42 years beyond that tragic year.  In the last twelve years we have talked honestly and explored both of our hearts together.  We both deeply regret the decision to abort this tiny baby, and the healing of our mother-daughter relationship developed slowly for both of us.  

For the past ten years Nancy has lived, at first, under my roof, and now in an assisted living/nursing care facility.  My sister supports me as I support our mother.  Nancy clings to life because she is fearful of dying ~ this I have heard my mother say aloud.  She believes in her heart that Jesus loves her but has trouble understanding that His love is His gift of grace to us.  Nancy, deep within her soul, believes that one's works will earn the ticket to heaven.  Therein lies the deception of the enemy.

     Recently I studied with Stella, a hospice chaplain who specifically helps others move through the grief process.  My heart aches for my mother because understanding and true forgiveness came late in our lives. We wasted so much time not talking about the wedge that drove us apart.  I have learned much about my mother and myself through this study of grief.  Nancy lived life the best that she knew how to.  Given the circumstances and the times, we plodded through life loving one another, yet living with some emotional distance which frustrated both of us.  After the "event" Nancy became super involved with working at Sprint and building upon her female friendships.  I was super busy raising three children including one special son.  My mother and I  seemed unable to bridge the emotional gap between us. 

     No longer guarded with one another, I can now truly embrace the woman who grew-up in the shadow of a dominant Mother.  Nancy wrestles with severe dementia and can no longer impart wisdom.  But she can listen and whisper, "I love you so much."

     God has whispered to my soul, "Love your mother, unconditionally, as I have loved you."  and so, I have.  My prayers are for for my mother to experience true joy and peace as she wrestles through the remaining months of her life.  

     Since learning and understanding the depths of my mother's love for me, I have come to a state of forgiveness both for her part in my decision, but mostly, for myself for blaming Mom for my decision.  

     In conclusion, I leave you with these "Six Practical Ways to Honor Your Parents":

1.  Forgive them.
2.  Speak well of them.
3.  Esteem them publicly and privately.
4.  Seek their wisdom.
5.  Support them.
6.  Provide for them.

Author:  Tim Challies, blogger, author and book reviewer