Godly Homemaking wisdom for a peaceful and joyous home life. . ..
"Faint not; the miles to heaven are but few and short." -Samuel Rutherford
"Old Fashioned Motherhood"
Baby and Child Care Advice from a New England Housewife
Cleaning Your Home
"Living on His Income" by Mrs. White
New! For sale at Amazon. $6.99
Thrift - Home Economy
Stories for the Homemaker
~ My Books ~
Early Morning Revival Challenge
90 Day Bible Study [72 pages, paperback] $5.00
Teaching Home Economics
"The Good Wife"
Order My Book
"For the Love of Christian Homemaking"
Stories and Ideas
The Prentiss Study
A Free Resource
Subscribe to "The Legacy of Home" to Receive Posts by Email
"Dear Kitchen Saints"
Letters from an Iowa Housewife (Includes an Incredible Marriage Testimony as seen in "Above Rubies" Magazine!)
From "On The Banks of Plum Creek"
"After Laura and Mary had washed and wiped the dishes, swept the floor, made their bed, and dusted, they settled down with their books. But the house was so cozy and pretty that Laura kept looking up at it."
- Laura Ingalls Wilder
Human Frailty of the Godly Soul
"The life of Luther might suffice to give a thousand instances, and he was by no means of the weaker sort. His great spirit was often in the seventh heaven of exultation, and as frequently on the borders of despair. His very deathbed was not free from tempests, and he sobbed himself into his last sleep like a greatly wearied child."
"As for her, like most women, she had but one ambition. To be a good wife and a good mother, and to be beloved by her husband and children, was all she asked. [She was] a busy, affectionate, cheerful little housewife, whose voice would never be heard in the streets, but whose memory would always live in a few faithful hearts."
- Elizabeth Prentiss, 1800's.
A married woman who stays home. This is a lifelong vocation. It is an old-fashioned term, and something to be proud of. Not a "domestic engineer." Not a "home manager." An old fashioned housewife, who keeps the home, and abides there. - Mrs. White
Late yesterday evening, my frailness came back. It was like an unseen wind that suddenly appeared. I know it is time to rest.
At first, I felt like I was trying to get ready for a long journey. I made preparations with the children, and warned my husband. "Don't be alarmed," I told them. "But my weariness has come back." There is a weakness in my legs that requires me to use my crutches.
I needed the family to take over much of my homemaking. I gave instructions and requests, while glancing around the rooms yearning for a body that worked. It felt like I was walking away from a dearly loved project. I did not want to be bedridden without my dishes to wash, or my floors to sweep. But I will yield to the forced rest.
I have this pretty tray, and will have one of the children polish it up. They can use this to bring me snacks and refreshments during my confinement. I have old movies to pick out, while I am in the quiet chambers. The family will go on, in the other rooms of this large old Estate, without me. They will check on me, and visit me throughout the day, but they will be doing all the work.
Perhaps one will take a break and watch a movie with me? Perhaps someone will bake brownies as a special treat? And maybe someone will remember to do the laundry, and hang the clothes on the line, while I am recovering from something I cannot see?
Please do not worry about me, dear friends. I have been used to this for decades. I will be okay again. These sweet rests are very precious. They are a blessing, and a gift in disguise.