We gave her water

Sometimes you just don't know when God is going to call on you and what exactly you are supposed to do. Today was one of those days. My friend and I took our kids to a nature center for the day. We enjoyed a picnic by the creek. The children ran and played. We saw dragonflies, caterpillars, clams, and fish. Frigid creek water kept us from getting too hot and then the warm sun kept us from getting too cold. Our worst problem was going to be putting wet and muddy kids back in the van to go home.

But for Francesca the day was not going this well. She also brought her three boys to let them play in the creek. But when it was time to go home they all ignored her completely. She yelled for quite some time. And still they defied their mother. Mama T and I were just about to discuss whether or not we should intervene when she started shouting that she was hot and getting dehydrated. There was no more discussion. We jumped up and brought her water. We rounded up her boys (several times)and talked with her. One boy had to be physically removed from the creek and restrained before he agreed to put on his shoes.

What would Smockity have done? http://storkdok-nos.blogspot.com/

For us, we didn't consider sitting around and talking about what a horrible mother she was. But I am willing to admit the intervention we provided on Francesca's behalf may not have been helpful. Some could even say it was inappropriate. But we tried. And we offered what we could. And we listened to her. And we spoke words of encouragement and Truth to her. I felt no judgement towards her whatsoever. I felt compassion on this woman, made in the image of the very living God himself, dealing with such turmoil and so completely lost.
i have no idea if we made any difference whatsoever in her life or her day for that matter. But I do know that we gave her water. And we let her know there was one and only one who could offer her living water.

To the Earth We Return

Today we had to do a very sad thing. Our kitten was injured and after a few weeks of praying, hoping, and watching we could see that he just wasn't getting any better. Everyone agreed it was time to let him go. There was some good in dragging it out. We were able to spend time with him, we were able to see that the way he was living was not fit for a cat and we were able to say goodbye. My son cried out in anguish and sorrow. He wants to know why. I have the same question myself and an answer is just not there. I struggle with the idea that God is in the little things. He could have saved our kitty. He could have healed him. But His answer was no. Maybe He wants us to have a reminder of the precious gift of life. Maybe He is preparing us for greater grief to come. But an answered prayer for a little boy would be a great faith booster. Is it wrong to ask for that?
We were able to stay with him to the end. Still, it wasn't any easier.
So on a beautiful spring day, with the sun shining on our backs, surrounded by flowers and chirping birds we laid our sweet little Bagheera to rest. And we miss him.

Wimmins Work

Really what I mean is taking care of a household.
Since December I have been working on a stained glass piece. This is the first one I have ever done and just like me I didn't pick a simple pattern. The glass I chose to learn to cut is thick and textured on both sides and doesn't cut or break easily. (just like me?) I feel like it took me a long time and I got frustrated with it over and over again. Many pieces had to be re-done because the cuts were wrong or they broke. Some pieces I gave up on and let their imperfections be part of the work. Now that it is almost done I am beginning to feel a sense of accomplishment. I still have to smooth out the lines and apply zinc to the outside (which I still need to learn how to do). It occurred to me that keeping house was much like making art. It does take some skill, some creativity, some willingness to make mistakes and learn. You have to be willing to work with the mistakes and blemishes. It takes time. Yes, women's work is a lot like art. I pour myself into it and ultimately hope there will be a masterpiece.

Sleep Talkin Princess

Mostly she says unintelligible things. Or she shouts to her brother to "Stop it!", "Get out of my ROOOOOMMMMMM!!!!", "Stop it!!!!!"
But occasionally she says things like "I have two. I have two legs." and "I have a green one at home. It looks just like it."
These are only the ones that I hear after she crawls into bed with us and I am awake enough to remember. Perhaps I should start recording her?

Watch where you're looking!

A few weeks ago my daughter told me to "watch where you're looking". I chuckled a little because I know she meant to say "watch where you're going" But after I thought about it a little bit I think what she actually said is better advice. Yes, we should all watch where we're looking. When I am looking at my sweet child's face am I thinking about the grocery list, or the dishes in the sink, or the pile of projects that gets bigger and bigger? When I read her a story am I just thinking how quickly I can get done so I can move on to the next chore on my list? I am so guilty of not watching where I'm looking. In these days that I am trying to be productive, get projects done, find ways to save money and check off my whole checklist for the day I don't want to miss the moments flying by. I am trying. Please God, help me to watch where I am looking. Help me to burn the ordinary extraordinary in my memories and see you in everything.

Fighting Monsters

What is it about the urge to write at inopportune times? In the car, out of town, at two am? I said at two AM!?!?!?!?!? Well, I did say I wanted to blog.....
My husband found this article and left it up on his computer.
http://www.salon.com/mwt/feature/2009/03/26/bauer_autism/
Yesterday morning I read through it and wept so bitterly I had to lock myself in the bathroom to prevent my children from seeing my painful red and wet face. It wasn't a new fear that filled me but the scab had been scratched off and it was bleeding again. This mother just articulated it so well. She was sharing her own painful story and I was crying because I don't want to be her someday. Now, reading this I make the assumption that she is not a believer due to some references about where she puts her hope. (One place is with Obama and I could really go on about that for a while but that is not the topic of this post.) Anyway, I am not sure if that is accurate or not but I thought her references to hope seemed flimsy at best. But in many ways I have been there (am there?). I know that I have complete access to the creator of the universe through my risen savior. And yet, if I am brutally honest, there are times when hope seems stupid wishful thinking.
All I have to do is whisper? Then why aren't my shouts being heard?
The night before I read this article our son had said to his little sister "I am going to stab you in your pee-pee". It shocked us and disturbed us to say the least.
"Where in the world did you hear something like that?"
"I don't know. I just made it up."
Later he blamed it on public school kids. Yeah right, all the evils of the world are because of public school kids. I think making it up is even worse than hearing it somewhere. He also saw the article on the computer. He sat in my lap and cried and said, "I just want to grow up and have a job and have a family and be happy." Yeah, me too.
We know a family that seems so perfect it just makes you sick to your stomach. She has a beautiful house in the country which her husband built with his own hands. The amazing front door was conveniently left in a dumpster for them to find. She has a small but lovely parcel of land from which a bountiful garden spills forth. Her children romp around in a playhouse, a swing set (the kind so big even the grown-ups can swing real high on it), and a little babbling brook. The adults have an outdoor kitchen and covered patio to sip their lemonade and have their bible study.
Bleh!
A few weeks ago we were at her house. She told a story about how their dog (who is also gorgeous and perfect of course) had been run over by a bobcat when she was six months old. They took her to the vet for x-rays and found out that the dog's hips and entire pelvis had been shattered. They decided not to spend the money on the expensive and likely unsuccessful surgery and took her home. The dog was prayed over during their bible study. And it was miraculously healed. Not right away, but all the broken bones in that shattered dog healed into all the right positions. "Wow! That's amazing!" Everyone said. I felt like screaming, crying, slapping her face and puking all at once.
What about my son? Am I to think that the creator of the universe values a dog more than my son?
There are times when I see things and I just can't comprehend why they are the way they are. I see the struggles my son faces minute by minute. And I know there is greater suffering in the world than his. But still...
I also know a family whose son passed away because of a terrible genetic disorder. He knew a lot of pain towards the end of his short life. I found out about their son's diagnosis just a few weeks after we found out about our son's. I really grieved for him and his family. It was genuine. I did not wish this upon them or think that it was great they had to endure this. But at the same time there was a little voice in the back of my head that said, "But I would rather deal with that than this." GASP! How could you say such a thing? You are ungrateful and crazy!
Maybe.
But like this mother said - Oh if it were as simple as just cancer!
At least with cancer (or any fill-in-the-blank disease you like) you know what you're battling. It is as though we are chasing after an intangible, unpredictable spook. Yes, like she said, a monster. Will we conquer it? Will our love, time, energy, prayers, reading, counseling, therapy, faith and tears be enough? Or will it rear up and devour our son right in front of us? It always comes down to the same question doesn't it? Why?
I do not want to be like her. I do not want to hope in research or therapies or diets or other such quack juice.I do not want to lose hope. But I can relate to her. She articulated the dark fear that lies within. She is living it.
But please God, not my son. Please Lord, I believe. Save me from my disbelief.

Homeschooling is not Magical

Well, here I am again. I keep thinking I will write more often and then I don't. I have been madly searching www.homeschoolclassifieds.com and www.bestbookdeal.com for those last few books I need and generally trying to get ready for the school year.I just finished reading "How to really Love Your Child" by Ross Campbell M.D. It was a quick and easy read with a lot of powerful stuff. It's not about do you really love your child it is about really showing it so they really get it. It gave me some pointers, renewed my resolve and made me feel that I am at least doing some things right. I recommend it for any parent. We have one very challenging child and sometimes I have anxiety over what will become of him. But I know that it is just the enemy taunting me and that ultimately we do have the victory. But I need reminders here and there. I love my children. I love the opportunity we have to homeschool. We are not a magic, perfect family but I hope they turn out all right.