It's worth fighting for

Frodo: What are we holding on to, Sam?

Sam: There's some good in this world, Mr. Frodo. And it's worth fighting for.

Yes, I believe there IS good in this world, and it's worth fighting for.

Something about the Arizona shooting, not the shooting itself, or the people killed, or the lives fractured, but the aftermath of the tragedy has given me hope. It's given me hope that decent people still rise up, take action, and protect those who need it. 

Politicians and others (while victims were still fighting for their lives and families were fresh with grief over those killed) used the situation to promote their particular ideologies.  BUT, saner heads prevailed, and those who might have used the devastation to springboard their agendas have been silenced.

Those idiots who protest funerals are planning to picket the 9-year-old little girl's funeral.  BUT, they will be shut out.  Quite literally by angel wings, built high and large to shield the family and friends from their satanic protest and destructive signage.

People can do good, and they do.  People can see truth.  People can help others.

There is good in this world, Mr. Frodo, there is.  And, it's worth fighting for.

Breathing

I'm trying to stay away from the news, but I just can't.  It assaults me everywhere.  I was listening to the radio on my one, one, one day to Xmas shop without the kids, and I heard about a little girl about Anna's age dying in a car accident.  Her mother was driving.  Days before Christmas.  I picture her presents wrapped and under the tree.  I picture her excitement and parties and fun.  But, then she's gone.

I can think of no words, not even a prayer.  I remember driving and crying and screaming. 

Now, today, I happened upon the news and the mother of the little girl shot to death at the AZ shooting massacre was being interviewed by phone, and the mom's distraught voice tight and hard with grief still echoes in my ears.

And sadness fills my heart.

There is no pain greater on this planet than a parent losing a child.  None.

And, I revisit driving to my former coworker's son's viewing on Friday night, and attending my friend's son's funeral, and the Haiti blogs of children no longer here.  Death that comes too soon and too suddenly to children fills me with so much loss and hopelessness.

I try to turn to God, and I pray fervently for the parents left behind, but I still seek His hope.  His promise of hope, and it's hard to find it behind the cloud of grief and the tears shed too many.

So, I hug my children tighter, and relax more in the moments that would cause me stress.  I stroke their hair and brush their cheeks and cling to them. 

Life is fragile and short.

Homeschooling

It's dificult to say who's learned more from Homeschooling this past semester, me or the kiddoes.  I would gather moi. 


I fretted over curriculae that turned out we didn't need.  I worried about them falling behind, which is a fallacy of traditional school.  I agonized that I wasn't cut out for out this. 

But then, as always, the kids put it into perspective for me.  "Mom, I get to hug you anytime I want during the day."

Wow.  Doesn't get much better than that.

I'm still fretting and worrying and agonizing about the delivery system, but I rest comfortably knowing it's the right thing at this right time for our specific family.

Sakineh Mohammadi-Ashtiani Sentenced to Death by Stoning

So, Iran buckled (surprisingly) to international outcry about stoning to death the woman, who after 99 lashes admitted to adultery. They will probably hang her instead.

I don't know about you, but after about 2 lashes, I'd probably admit to about anything.

Someone told me that stoning is rare in the Middle East. Yeah? Well, in Iran as of this morning 12 women and 3 men await death by stoning. They currently execute at least 388 people a year.

In Iran, as in most Muslim Countries, gender differences make all the difference. Accused women are guilty and must prove themselves innocent. Accused men are innocent and it must be proved they are guilty. Wow, THAT'S fair.

Thank you Amnesty International for making light of this woman's case and creating a world wide outrage. I guess her death by hanging for a crime she didn't commit and was already punished for by 99 lashes is better than stoning. I guess. I have an arsenal of profanity I'd like to insert here, but picture what a really drunk sailor would say and you get the idea. My dad was in the Navy so you know I have the repertoire.

So, AI, thanks! I sometimes don't get you, but you're right on the money here. Where, I must ask VERY politely, are the women's groups? What does NOW have to say? Where is the Feminist Majority?

We have to keep putting pressure on these barbaric countries to quit kangaroo courts and quick executions (as in the heart wrenching case of the 7 yr old boy who was hanged), and coerced "confessions" to elicit horrendous punishments such as 99 lashes and death by stoning.

Yes, the USA needs to reconsider the death penalty. We need to abolish it. And, we need to fight for human rights in the world!

Check out these stats:

Country/Number executed in 2009 (from Amnesty International):
1
People's Republic of China
Officially not released At least 1700 (estimated)
2
Iran
At least 388
3
Iraq
At least 120
4
Saudi Arabia
At least 69
5
United States
52
6
Yemen
At least 30
7
Sudan
At least 9
8
Vietnam
At least 9
9
Syria
At least 8
10
Japan
7
11
Egypt
At least 5
12
Libya
At least 4
13
Bangladesh
3
14
Thailand
2
15
Singapore
At least 1
16
Botswana
1
17
Malaysia
Unreleased
18
North Korea
Unreleased

I'm back...

I'm back.

I'm done with my 14 month hiatus from blogging.

I quit my job, gained 20 pounds (ugh), and took my kids out of school to homeschool them.

Today was our first day in Homeschool. Here is the plus/delta at the end of the school day:

Plus: got to put on a play, spongebob song from youtube, crush cups for snacks.

Delta: play didn't turn out as they'd like, ran aroud the room when they weren't supposed to, and they didn't get a pinata.

Seriously? They thought they'd be getting a pinata?

I waaay oversold this homeschool gig.

More Reverence

Do not be quick with your mouth,
do not be hasty in your heart
to utter anything before God.
God is in heaven
and you are on earth
so let your words be few.
As a dream comes when there are many cares,
so the speech of a fool when there are many words.

Ecclesiastes 5:11

I read Ecclesiastes this morning. I've never read it, I don't think. Some of the passages were familiar, and the most well-known verse about the "time for every purpose under heaven..." stuff was the one keeping me away. I just can't stand the repetitiveness of that song, turn, turn, turn...ugh.

But, I needed the wisdom of Solomon and I just couldn't start in with those Proverbs. Great and profound stuff mind you, but my goodness you can only take it in small bites. Not a meal. And, today, I needed a meal.

I've been a bit petulant lately. Okay, okay...not "a bit" a whole lot!

I've been feeling like I'm a bench warmer. When did I leave the game? I was on track, God's wind blowing into my sails, and I was on point.

But, something's happened over the past year and now I'm starting to see it as a transformation of me as a person. God's working on me to make me the person he wants me to be. Unfortunately, I'm still struggling to see it that way. Intellectually I can grasp what he's doing. Emotionally, I feel slapped down.

I've been seeing it as: This is not fair! I'm a player, for cryin' out loud, not someone's who's accustomed to being a bench blanket. I count! I can play! I need to be used!

All the while I sit and watch while God infuses his magnificence into everyone else's lives, and leaves me as an inert member of the team, watching...painfully watching as others utilize their talents for his glory and I sit back and wait for the call that doesn't come.

When I really get going on my little pity party about how God is weaving his Kingdom with everyone else's thread and not mine I can attribute it to my lack of youth or increased weight. If only I were thinner and younger, then I could make a difference, then he'd use me, then others would allow me to join in the game. I am shunned because of time and appearance. (You can see how dangerous it is when we allow the "woe is me" festival to continue--of course, it manifests differently for all of us, your issue may not be age or weight, but we all have chinks in our armor that the enemy will utilize given the chance.)

My father will be 80 years old in August and he is currently building a restaurant empire. When he was 50 he built a business from the ground up that made him his first million. At 32 he fathered me (in an age where 30 was considered over the hill). Now, if anything can teach me age is definitely not an issue, it's watching my dad.

And, the extra pounds? Man, it's hard to lose weight. I work out every day. I eat healthfully. I limit my intake. I'm trying to get the dose on my thyroid meds figured out. It's just plain tough, but I'm not giving up. But it's hard.

And so today I'm practicing more reverence and less petulance. Understanding that sometimes we're the main players and sometimes we support the main players, but it's all for the good of the kingdom and the advancement of the kingdom.

Mostly, I'm trying to become what God wants me to be, not getting God to support who I am.

Elsie

So I volunteered in son's class. He was excited to see me arrive on the playground in the heat of the day, and met me with a sweaty hug and big sloppy kiss. As he fell into line to head back into the classroom, he grabbed my hand with his big paw, and pulled me with him, "C'mon, Mom, c'mahhhn." The heat doesn't slow the little ones.

As my body met the cool air of the building, son's little classmate Elsie fell into my legs and then others who knew me greeted me with the Kindergarten hug. I think that's the last year they do that. In First Grade they don't need that reassurance. But in Kindergarten they're still mushy and needy little creatures.

Elsie caught me later. "Come, do the book with me." I patted her curly brown hair and said, "I can help you a little, but I'm here to help everyone."

She wouldn't take no for an answer. She tugged at my sleeve and after trying to pull away a few times to work with the other kids including my own son, I ended up helping her write her latest publication, "The Hungry Kindergartener."

When next she insisted I take up a wand and help her read the room, I realized I wasn't going to spend time with any other kids that day. Elsie needed me. She needed someone. She needed attention.

So I gave it to her.

Son's teacher later let me know that Elsie didn't have a mom, and so she clung on to subsitutes in various forms at school.

Of course, as a mom myself, that devastates me. And, at the same time, I'm worried that one of the few times I get to volunteer in son's class, I didn't spend any time with him.

But, son was fine. His Center that day was Legos with his best friend Rialto. Occasionally, he'd come over and show me a speed boat or jet fighter he'd fashioned from the bold colored pieces, but he seemed content to work with Rialto and let me spend time with Elsie.

Maybe on some level he understood that she needed my attention, too.