Kelly Crawford

This verse is so convicting to me. How often do I contribute to the pulling down instead of building?

Interesting, don’t you think, that the “woman-demeaning” Bible, as feminists would like it portrayed, gives us such a strong job–BUILDING. (Not to mention that we are to wear “strength and dignity” while we build.)

How is this building fleshed out? What does it look like to you?

I think of encouraging words, tender eyes (while a child takes way too long to make a point), patient answers. (Far too often I do not own these “nails and boards.”)

And the harder stuff of less-glamorous grunge.

Of a word fitly spoken.

Of working with my husband, not competing against him.

Of a heart-felt talk just at the moment you’d rather drop into bed.

Of stopping what I’m doing, knowing the squabble is not an interruption, but an opportunity to share the gospel, again, with these disciples of mine.

Tonight as we were preparing supper, one child was putting salad in the bowls, another wanted to stir the pots, a couple were frankly underfoot in the way, and my son was washing up some dishes. We were chatting. It wasn’t a gee-jolly homeschool family moment.

It was a normal, working side-by-side moment. Not a spectacular moment, but a pleasant one. And my son said, “Isn’t it easier when we all have a job?”

Smile.

“It is so much easier. Thank you, Ashton, for helping me.”

We’re all building. Together.

I have quite a bit of enmity against anything that even hints at weakening the family. And I don’t apologize for that. It’s way too often the subtle things that are so destructive. Like silent termites, eating away until it’s too late. Families are composed of people, and I care about people. I care about families.

Once we diminish the importance of this building, and look to our own progress as individuals, it becomes tearing down.

Let’s build.