Epigenetics. Why We Are What We Are...

I often ponder what of me my offspring will remember from their childhood.  It seems to me I spend many days lecturing and retraining as I attempt to disciple my babies.  I am most certain this is not all in my head. I do, after all, have 6 little followers, which is what, after all, a disciple is.  I am training them to be what I myself pursue.  

I have been dabbling in familiarizing myself with the basics of epigenetics.  Wikipedia’s definition states in part that it is the study of heritable changes in gene expression or cellular phenotype caused by mechanisms other than changes in the underlying DNA sequence.  The gist is that our environment and our choices can influence our genetic code- and that of our offspring.  In studies done with rats some mothers are overachieving types. They lick their little rat babies past the point of cleanliness.  The regular ol’ once over type mamas are just in it to get the job done.  Turns out the overachievers produce overachievers.  All that licking kicks on their hippocampus and begins a cascade of events, each triggering the next until those little rat babies can say with Fezzik,

      “It’s not my fault being the biggest and the strongest. I don’t even exercise.”

I’m not sure it has much to do with my personal epigenetics, but as I ponder my kids future thoughts of their history and why it was written as it was I can’t help but think about my own.  Why do I do what I do?  

Last night my kids were discussing the ownership of the individual flashlights they each received from their paternal grandparents for Christmas.  They were given with stickers of each child’s name clearly in view.  Said stickers have a way of either falling away or being forcibly removed.  To end all idle chattering I reached to the shelf beneath my cookbooks.  Residing there in its own protective carrying case is the electric engraving tool my dad gave me upon my marriage.  It is the sort where the metal tip vibrates back and forth while making a deafening sound.  I quickly named all the flashlights to the glee of the corresponding children.

Today I engraved the size on my metal bias strip maker with the same tool.  Every time I use that handy bias strip maker I have to remeasure what size it fits.  Why didn’t I think of the engraver before now?  

I fondly recall from my history that my dad engraved TN on every tool he owned.  When he gave me a pocketknife it was named “Megan”. My harmonica was named the same. Incidently, the “a” looked just like that.  Dad’s lower case “a’s” were always formed like they were typewritten with the extra curl at the top.  At the time he gave me the engraver I found it odd.  He just gave it to me, no explanation, no gift wrap, like I would know what to do with it.  

I proceeded to engrave my new name all over my new “tools”. I had bread pans, 9x13 pans, bowls, and spatulas marked with my new moniker.  I was quickly hooked and am ever-thankful I don’t have to go through life wondering to whom the jellyroll pan in the cupboard belongs.  I’m pretty sure this is not an example of how my dad impressed upon my epigenetics, but I am pondering many other aspects as I watch my own children.

If you are the least curious as to how your current choices are effecting your progeny  John Cloud’s article in Time magazine from January 6, 2010, called  Why Your DNA Isn’t Your Destiny, was a thought provoking read.  I will think none-the-less of you if you aren’t interested.  It seems I can easily explain my interest.  You see, Breadwinner and I met in genetics class. I set myself apart from the others of my gender, in his eyes, by my daily quest to encourage the professor to check the overhead screen for focus prior to beginning the lecture. We have been in continuous experimentation using genetics for 12 years.  

But, I am sure it can all be explained easily enough using epigenetics.  My dad’s degree was in chemistry and my mom was involved heavily in genetic lab work herself...

Contemplating My Vapor...

James 4:13-14

Come now, you who say, "Today or tomorrow we will go to such and such a city, spend a year there, buy and sell, and make a profit";

whereas you do not know what will happen tomorrow. For what is your life? It is even a vapor that appears for a little time and then vanishes away."

My mom dropped over the other day and brought with her a topic of conversation of which she had been reminiscing with my grandma which contained highlights of my high school years.  She had skewed a bit of the history so I got out my scrapbook to fact check.  My four inch thick book of memories is old school.  It contains everything from the usual play bills and photos- to what stands as trash which is my lime green tennis handle wrap and and matching lime green bow from my wrap around tennis sunglasses- to the obscureness of a magazine ad of a chicken with a grin full of teeth and the dried up ear from a dissected fetal pig.  Between the grey covers of this three ring photo binder encased in acid rich papers and  tape I am teased with the thought that perhaps I peaked in high school, and I grow depressed.

I graduated with a class of 25 other students.  I was not the smartest, fastest, nor was I voted best legs.  

For the record I was voted most likely to have the most children- check! I was also voted most likely to be president of my own corporation.  Don't these two characteristics go hand in hand? 

What I did have going for me was that I was involved in every activity offered within the hallowed halls of Dike High.  I was an athlete, a musician, a scholar, a journalist, a thespian, and I went to church on Sunday and Thursday and lead a Bible study.  I did achieve some measure of notoriety and success.  I had plenty of bits with which to fill my scrapbook, which I created on the only day that I ever skipped school with my partner in truancy, Ellie Stewart.  Her dining room table was the location we chose to preserve our treasured memories.   Although her mother watched our every move, encouraging us all the way, my mom almost would not okay my absence from school which would have thwarted my plans to graduate without incidence.  

As I reflected on my past achievements I couldn't help but review my more recent history.  What have I done since then? Have I been using all my abilities and talents to their utmost to bring glory and honor to the Lord or have I been coasting on past accomplishments? 

One thing that really came to light due to my dad's passing was the imminence of my mortality.  I can plan for the future, but my life is a vapor and what I can do for the Lord does have its time constraints.  I was reminded of our state of vapor again this very morning. 

Our neighbor left on vacation yesterday and asked Breadwinner to feed the wood boiler in his shop a couple times a day while he was gone.  Upon opening the door to the shop this morning he was greeted with steamy smoke.  Breadwinner raced home to grab out fire extinguisher to dampen the flames until the fire department could arrive.  The fire was quickly brought under control and after careful examination it was decided that the fire was started not by the wood boiler, but by failed electrical wiring.  The fire had started overhead and made its way down to melt the hose on the boiler which sprayed water on the fire enough to keep it in check.  When the major work was over the  kids and I went to check out the fire men and trucks.  Breadwinner shared news of the incidence and it seemed like another simple matter of a grin as "Praise the Lord" rolls from the tongue.  I hadn't been too worried as the shop was still standing and at no time did the process seem life threatening.  A few hours later I was called to rethink our vapors.

Breadwinner came home from next door in late morning before heading off to work for a second time.  He was there long enough to relate what the fire chief had to say about his investigation and the fire and how the Lord had been working through it.  Fire Chief told Breadwinner that if the fire had not melted the hose to the wood boiler allowing the water to partially douse the flame he could have been toasted in the backdraft when he opened the shop door feeding the fire with oxygen.  Instead he was greeted by billows of smoke and steam. 

 This time "Praise the Lord" is a contemplative whisper while I hug him a little longer as I kiss him goodbye.  God doesn't measure success on the number of yellowing collected newspaper clippings.  What He wants from this vapor is to do His will to His glory.

James 4:15

Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we shall live and do this or that.”

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!

Christmas Salutations/New Year Blessings from the Roelfs-2011

Come,thou fount of every blessing,teach my heart to sing thy grace,streams of mercy never ceasing call for songs of loudest praise,

I am most comfortable when a project is finished in a timely manner and not left partially completed. This may also mean I have a desire to be in control of my environment.  Having created 6 beautiful children with a wonderful man who also donated genetics that include independent thinking with strong leadership qualities, I often find myself uncomfortable.  Matt recently declared he has discovered the burr that has been a year under my saddle.  My Christmas salutations of a year ago were never delivered...

Those of you with whom we keep in touch primarily through Christmas greetings may not know that early in February of 2010 my dad, Tim Nielsen, was diagnosed with lung cancer.  We had 9 months in which to say, “until we meet again”, which we lived with him to the fullest.  He went to heaven on November 7, 2010 surrounded by his family.  I started my Christmas letter many times, but my eyes kept leaking and my fingers kept slipping from the keys.  The one thing that came of my dad’s illness was that I started writing about it to keep friends and family updated.  These writings turned into a blog.  If you can’t get enough of my ramblings here you can go there for updates during the year. pursuingtheprize.blogspot.com. has become a place I try to chronicle our journey, “I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” Philipians 3:14

We just commenced our 10th year on the acreage I have dubbed Sunny Toad Farm.  My fascination with sunflowers hasn’t wilted in the 24 years I have been a collector and our toad population continues to increase at the same rate as our gardens continue to eat up the lawn.  The human population is holding steady for now at 8, although we continue to pray that the Lord would bless us with a greater workforce to raise to His glory!

Madigan Kate is 11 ½ and proud of the fact that the sandals we purchased for next summer are a size 10.  She continues in her study of the violin and is ready for a full size instrument. Who knew when she was 3 and wanted to play that we would be buying replacement violins like so many too small shoes?!  Her sense of responsibility and willingness to help out make her indispensable to us.  I’ll admit to acting a little put out when Matt takes her to help him work.  She especially enjoys helping him by running the lift when he is roofing.  It is not the machinery of which she is fond, but the tote of crocheting and books she packs along.  She and Maliah enjoy a Bible study with a group of young ladies where they are in charge of craft time.

Maliah Joy turned 10 in November.  If she hasn’t read a book on any given day we check her temperature.  She never leaves the house with less than 3 in her bag.  When our smiley free- spirited Maliah is ornery we can safely assume she has been up too late the night before reading. Maliah has created a painting studio in the basement in which she willingly welcomes guest artists. She is a natural on the piano and we enjoy listening to her energetic inflection.  Maliah is a special favorite of all small children.  Although, I recently found out she buys Merritt’s affections with gum...

Maxwell Willard turned 7 in August. He decided this year that he will graduate from Sunny Toad Academy when he is 13 so he can then go to work with his dad full time. Until then he bides his time taking out the trash, removing dead mice from the basement, and peeling potatoes. He is also studying violin and we have enjoyed hearing he and Madigan playing duets. Max is pulling for a bb gun this Christmas so he can keep the barn bird population in check around here. Instead he will be receiving books, for which he will be equally excited, believe it or not. Last week Max followed the Lord in believers baptism and became a member of Harvest Baptist Church.  

Mitchell Wynn is 5 and also an avid reader. He and Max can most often be found reading aloud to their most loyal fans, Maielle and Merritt, when they aren’t running around outside brandishing sticks at one another.  He also does a great imitation of a pirate. He is a very prolific artist and frequent guest in Maliah’s studio. It warms his mother’s heart to hear Mitch proclaim he shall play the trumpet.  At last a brass instrumentalist I can instruct with some confidence. Mitchell has decided to follow Jesus and let the whole world know last week when he too was baptized and joined Harvest Baptist.  He recently decided his occupation shall be as a plumber and that he will marry a woman who doesn’t care if she gets dirty, but then gets cleaned up on Sundays.

Maielle Rose just turned 4 and we are working at harnessing her spirit of self-confidence and leadership.  She is very busy carrying out her various and many numbered plans, regardless of our efforts to thwart her!  She loves to dress up and mother her many baby dolls.  I haven’t decided if she and Merritt are destined to be tailors or supervisors of some sort, as they spend many hours sitting on my sewing table and in the windowsill it abuts critiquing my every stitch.

Merritt Wallace turned 2 at the beginning of December and we are excited that he has taken to potty training quite easily.  It doesn’t hurt that he is a performer and loves the accolades we lavish on him when he makes his deposits in the preferred facilities.  He is as easy going as Maielle is intense and one can’t help but smile when he is around.  He loves to write with a pen and play with the kids and he takes to his crib for a nap easily to enjoy the comforts of his thumb and blankie.

Roelfs Enterprises continues to be as varied as the name describes.  The two main arms being Roelfs Steel Roofing and Advanced Greenscapes. Last Spring the whole family plus my mom and sister and her 4 kids were in southern Iowa planting trees by day and camping at night.  You can also on occasion hear Matt on WHO or read about him in the Spokesman or Coalition to Support Iowa’s Farmers newsletter (where he writes a regular feature article), as I call him the Coalition’s “poster boy”.  When he is not landscaping Matt can most often be found on a roof. He claims it has no reference to the fractious woman found in the book of Proverbs! Matt also continues to make great strides in remodeling our home.

I keep busy looking for teachable moments with the kids while living and working alongside each other. We continue to spend a lot of time in the gardens as we strive each year to be better stewards of the harvest. We started in the greenhouse in April and the kids dug the last of the carrots last week.  I am in a Bible study with a great group of edifying supportive gals that hold my feet to the fire. When I can work it in I am passionate about sewing, refashioning, and creating with fabric.  

Our 10 year old Great Dane, Daisy, is still with us although she’s no longer the looker she once was. Our Mastiff, Duke, is 3 and we brought his baby brother, Turk, home to live with us last winter to keep him company in the case of Daisy’s demise.  Unfortunately Turk tried to eat out of pecking order and Duke snapped at him. Turk lasted a week before his injuries were fatal.  In May we got a milk cow Maielle dubbed Rosie.  We enjoyed the milk products until she caught milk fever and died hours short of delivering her calf in October.  We continue to ponder whether to get another cow. We also lost a few of our 50 chicken laying flock. People often ask how the kids have dealt with these set-backs.  The Lord has given us these valuable teachable moments and we attempt to live Proverbs 3:5-6 through them. “Trust in the Lord with all your heart; and lean not on your own understanding. In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he will direct your path.”

My grandfather, Ed Ericksen, died in January at the ripe old age of 94. In July the “Ericksen” clan broke the peaceful quietness of the Chippewa National Forest at Cass Lake in Minnesota.  Though it had been quite a few years since Grandpa Ed had been able to join us at the lake I still miss his presence and the resulting fish fry.  We spent a lovely week together reminiscing about past trips and making new memories with the kids. It was a special blessing to be surrounded by family as we marked the first lake vacation without Dad there to encourage the kids in knife throwing games, whittling, band-aid application, and snorkeling.

In June Matt and I celebrated 15 years of wedded bliss and in September we revisited Litchfield Beach, South Carolina, where we spent our honeymoon.  This time around we rented a house on the beach with all the kids and our good friends Mark and Kate Ehresman and their brood of 4.  Getting there is half the fun and we logged 24 hours each way in our 15 passenger van. Our time together was such a blessing and it was the most relaxing vacation on which I have ever been!

For us this has been an entire year of pausing and reflection.  We have come to appreciate God’s gift of grace, made low and wrapped in human flesh in the form of his son, all the more. “Looking unto Jesus the author and finisher of our faith; who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is set down at the right hand of the throne of God.” Hebrews 12:2

Oh to grace how great a debtor daily I’m constrained to be! Let thy goodness, like a fetter,bind my wandering heart to thee!