The hard cold facts

There's a feeling in me. A feeling of dread. I know, I sound like my dad. The problem is, people all around me are making excuses for the murder of 56 million babies. Some people even try to compare it to extreme prolifers who shot abortionists in the 90's saying both sides are evil which sadly there's no way to strike such a comparison. Quite simply, our country, our generation has more blood on its hands than any other. Many tell me that a woman should be able to choose. But they always leave that sentence hanging. Choose to have their baby killed and parted out to the highest bidder? What about the fact that since abortion is legal 40% of women are coerced into it? I think about all of the things people are told they just have to tough through in life but then when a life is literally on the line, suddenly others want to offer women a shortcut from the hard things. There are no shortcuts. We all play the hand we are dealt. The negative fallout from abortion it horrific. From abusers forcing their victims to get them, to abortionists selling baby body parts, to women suffering years of post abortion stress. But the scariest part of all, is the murder and the judgement of God. People always say, don't judge, that's God's job. But I wonder why there's no fear of that. Are we to be the generation with no consequences for our sins? I'm not talking about the abortionists and women who receive them, I'm talking about the people who turn a blind eye and excuse it. Judgement will come. And it will be a dark time. 

Summer hike

I'm the queen of good intentions. Boxes of thank you notes, piles of educational materials, scads of Bible Study curriculum, zillions of flower planters, gallons of paint, mountains of books I really should read... But the application is more on the side of haphazard... 

At the beginning of summer I had narrowed it down to one goal. Just go hiking with the kids a couple times a week and embrace nature. I added plant identification guides to my Amazon cart and the whole plan derailed right there. Eden said it sounded miserable, Nick was averse to waking up early and we all know how long Hazels legs are. Kait was of course my only ally. I just don't feel like a mountain mover anymore. Kids are hard. You lose your edge, passion, vision, fire and ultimately energy in the day to day grind. But somewhere in the back of my mind Kara Tippets was talking about how badly she wished she was well enough to make her kids lunches. And there was this prick behind my eyelids as I was reminded that my time here parenting my little people often feels like my dads precious golden honey is running through my fingers and I don't know how to save it, contain it and direct it. I did not rise up like Joan of Arc and save my summer plan. We did not go hiking even once a week. I never ordered my plant field guides. And it makes me sad. But like I said to Eden tonight, as long as we are on a trajectory that moves us in the right direction, I am content. 

We made it up a trail on Saturday. If I were to torture you with the fine details of what kind of mountains I moved to get my kids up there you would be literally nauseated but I persevered and it was a fantastic experience. 

It'll never be perfect

My life has been a bit of a domino sequence lately and that does not work well with an already disorganized person. If you were to label the dominoes as a camping trip, strep throat, the first day of school, a husband traveling for work and just a general scatterbrain, you would have a fair picture of me scrambling around trying to get ready and then the doorbell ringing before the counter was wiped. My chum was coming for breakfast. I knew judging my imperfections were not the reason for her coming. She was wrung out from a thousand of life's pressures that she only dreamed could be as insignificant as a messy house. As she dashed tears from her eyes, I saw them settle on the messy front of my stainless fridge. It was the half focused glance of a born perfectionist who can tally what needs to be done in a room in thirty seconds. I apologetically mentioned needing to buy the special cleaner for stainless steel. I honestly didn't try too hard though. I don't owe her an explanation for how I live and she doesn't expect one. She gave me a vague nod, not caring one whit about my fridge door. I started chopping on a clean cutting board and she started sharing. I think you know that you are with a soul sister when every detail of their story interests you and you don't feel required to give solutions or advice. It is literally heaven. It was an easy morning, stripped of artifice with her telling me which ingredients to skip for her diet and me diving into a whole new recipe and throwing in every bit of imagination I had while listening to stories about people which I love to do. The result was delicious. We pushed dried play dough crumbles aside and sat at the table looking outside through a mud smeared sliding door as we pondered life's great mysteries and death's great pain. We ate well, cried a little, laughed a little and had grapefruit for dessert. Jesus needed me to take a little tender care of her that day. I suppose I could have missed all of that if I'd waited to invite her over when my house was cleaner which some days it actually is... But that was the day she needed some of Jesus love poured on which is actually no sacrifice for me because I just love that girl and every chance I have to visit with her. 

As summer fades

Tonight we finished "To Kill A Mockingbird".  In the history of summers and family read alouds this is a rather paltry showing. In a usual summer, the kids will push me to read for hours on end with wheedling passionate persistence that I unfortunately have little resistance to.  I'm not proud of this because after all, who wouldn't choose Harry Potter over washing more dishes? It's always ironic to me when people think I'm bragging. Like it's just saintly to have dirty floors when friends stop by. It reminds me of people putting some kind of esteem on the fact that I don't watch TV when the simple fact is I don't have the attention span to survive the commercials. Anyway, as usual I digress. To say that we only read one measly novel all summer is embarrassing. But it opened our hearts and so it is enough.  I read the last five chapters of my dog eared 25 cent copy from Goodwill with a toddler sleeping across me.  My fingers rythmically swept up and down her side as she puffed chocolate breath from her unbrushed teeth but it stole nothing from our finale.  As Scout stood on Arthur Radleys' porch wisely absorbing the weight of standing in another mans shoes, I looked up to see tears shimmering in Eden's eyes and a deep shadow marking Kait's face. It's an achingly deep moment. We all want a perfect ending, a neatly tied bow with happily ever after and everyone changed and improved. It had taken almost the whole book of me haltingly reading then stopping to explain colloquialisms, symbolisms, definitions and even clarifying what had happened in an entire chapter of people speaking in double meanings but finally at the end, there it was... Eden sharply stopping me and saying "wait!" and demanding clarification. She was realizing that each word held weight and the story meant so much more than I could explain in a sitting.
I don't give my kids the things they want like books that everyone else is reading and TV shows that everyone else is watching though some would say they have too much and sometimes I neglect the things they need like clean teeth at night or fresh pajamas but I will always hope they hold on to what I try to teach them about letting Jesus in so out will come love, time invested, integrity, defense of the defenseless, purity of heart, and just generally getting outside of our own pains and predjudices to hold space for other people because that's what Jesus can do through us.
I started our final reading thanking the Lord that my kids start school soon and ended in a state of melancholy and desire to just keep them home another month. Just a little extension of time to teach them what I believe and combat the education system with all of it's agendas but alas here it is. Another summer is slipping away and I grasp at bits and pieces wondering when I will ever have a perfect one to look back on as the summer I shared everything important I could with them.
My heart can't take these kids. I'm blessed more than I can absorb and it's beautiful.