Tuesday, February 28, 2012


I don't usually post about politics on this blog, but I have to get this off my chest.

I'm following a thread on Pinterest about abortion.  It seems that every time discussion comes up between pro-choicers and pro-lifers, people start arguing 'facts':  when is the fetus (baby) viable?  When does the heart start beating?  Does the fetus (baby) feel pain?  It's all so clinical.

I don't know a lot of the science.  I'm not a doctor.  But I know that there have been three instances where a life was growing inside me, and by 12 weeks, that life was gone.  I have never felt so hopeless than the moments when I had to acknowledge to myself that my baby was dying inside me and I couldn't save it.  To say that those babies of mine were nothing more than unresponsive lumps of cells tears my heart apart.

Knowing the pain of miscarriage, I can only imagine that there must be so much more pain women who undergo abortions carry around.  I'm not surprised that so many women so adamantly advocate for abortion, because to acknowledge the truth - that there was a baby growing inside you and you killed it, literally sucked it out of your uterus, must be more than any mother could bear.  Understandably, it's easier to justify your actions than to face that fact.

It breaks my heart that young women make this choice believing that it is the only (or the best) option for them.  They are victims, too.  They need the emotional, medical, financial and legal help necessary to carry their 'accidents' full term and then give them up for adoption, or take care of them themselves, or give them into the care of a family member, or whatever might be the best 'choice' for the baby (if we want to talk about choices here).  Maybe the resources are out there, and I am just unaware of them.  I do know that our community has a pregnancy help center established to give alternatives to abortion, but do other communities?  Are there governmental services available?  And why is it so much easier (and cheaper) to abort a baby than adopt one?

All I can say, is that I mourn for the women who chose to abort, and for the innocent lives they end.

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Happy Forced Love Day

If you really want to know what I think about Valentine's Day, read last years post.  Now go and kiss your loved one, darn it.

Monday, February 13, 2012

Don't Move That Throw Pillow, It's Covering A Kool-Aid Stain

Here's a few caveats before you enter my house:

1.  There is a high probability that there will be bits of food on the kitchen floor.  The probability is also high that said bits of food have been there for several days, because I overlooked them when I was sweeping, or I overlooked sweeping all together.

2.  If you need a hair tie, look in the nearest corner.  That's usually where they end up.

3.  The stain on my shirt came from my kid.  No it didn't.  It came from me.  Because, a) I'm just too tired to change my shirt when I get something on it, after all, who's here to see me? and, b) I can always blame stains on a kid.  They'll never tell otherwise.

4.  There will be random magnets stuck on lamps, the fire place, and the bathroom sink.  The kids were experimenting and never went back to clean up their findings.

5.  Don't move that throw pillow on the couch.  It's covering a kool-aid stain.

6.  Please complement me on my clean counters.  I work VERY HARD to keep them free of Barbie boots, scribbled sticky notes, grocery fliers, pennies, a half eaten apple, crumbs, artwork, crayons, dirty plates, keys and crumpled streamers.  Kitchen counters are the vortex of the home, everything ends up on them.

7.  I am not responsible for what you may or may not find if you open the doors to the kids' rooms.  Including a cup of colored water with markers stuck point-side-down in it, a rock collection, and a billion dirty clothes.  Oh wait.  I am responsible for those.

8.  If there are bits of flotsam on the carpet, it's not because the carpet hasn't been vacuumed.  It's because the carpet was vacuumed by a 5 year old.

9.  If it's too high for the kids to reach, it's too high to dust.

10.  If a room is clean, just wait for 10 minutes.

Wednesday, February 8, 2012

Put On Your Fancy Clothes

Sophie's 5th birthday party last weekend was an affair to remember.  She's all about Fancy Nancy right now, and we invited five little friends over to jubilate (that's fancy for celebrate).  We served sorbet punch in my antique punch bowl, had a chocolate fountain with all the fixings, and made accessories galore.

Ooo la la.

The little girls were invited to wear their most fancy dresses, as befitting a fancy party.  This resulted in a gaggle of princesses fitting around our house.  It was pretty much the cutest thing ever.

I've had a lot of kids over to my home in the past.  We've hosted play dates for years, and in the summer, our house is the 'pool house'.  I'm used to crowds of children rushing from room to room, bent on imaginary quests, with the noise level to match.  Of course with all the sugar at Sophie's party, I expected the same thing.  These particular girls are typically neither sedate nor demure.

That's why I was so surprised when the party was the most hushed, decorous, and sedate gathering I've ever had, including our grownups-only small group meetings.  I wondered if someone had slipped a Valium into the punch.

As I watched the girls, however, I realized that in donning their fancy clothes, they had also put on their fancy manners.  They were perfect, sweet little ladies.  Maybe I should have Sophie wear her princess dress every day.

This morning I read a passage:
... lay aside the old self, which is being corrupted in accordance with the lusts of deceit, and that you be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and put on the new self, which in the likeness of God has been created in righteousness and holiness of the truth ... Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.  Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.  Ephesians 4:22 - 25, 31 - 32
I sat amazed by the fact that, in believing in Christ and accepting His sacrifice for my sins, I'm actually clothed in His likeness.  This ugly old self that revels in bitterness, malice, wrath and clamor feels comfortable and right.  Feels like the only option.  But to think that I can cast aside those things, like an outgrown garment that is torn and stained, and put on the likeness of Christ - pure, spotless, safe, beautiful - shakes my heart to its foundations.

I want to remember today (every day) that I am wearing my fancy clothes.

Friday, February 3, 2012

Never Girl

As I was cleaning the other day, Sophie came bounding into the living room.  She was dressed in her rainbow swimsuit from last summer, and had tied a purple scarf around her neck.  She leaped across the carpet on her tiptoes, pirouetted once, then stopped in front of me with her arms raised and head thrown back. 

"Wow, who are you today?"  I asked.

"I'm Never Girl!"  She shook out her cape and struck a dramatic pose.  "Because I never give up!"  Then she took off down the hall, springing on her tiptoes.

As her, "Don't worry, I can help you!" drifted down the hall, I smiled to myself and let my hands still for a moment.  My heart suddenly overflowed.  I let out a small sigh.  This was one of the moments that slip so sweetly through my fingers, gone before I recognize it, leaving a glistening gem of remembrance that I, like Mary, "treasure up and ponder in my heart". 

Happy 5th Birthday, baby girl.  May you be blessed.