Thursday, July 2, 2015

Day 758


July 2, 2015

Day 758

 

Cool and sprinkly today...it's been a wet summer, thus far.  It occurred to me that we've only had maybe one day that broke the 90 degree mark so far.  But August isn't here yet.  The Lake Red Rock run-off that exists SE of town is rising.  It hasn't done that since 2011.  The stop sign at the end of West (which is on the East side of town - there's a reason for that!) and Coolidge is about halfway covered in water now.  I can remember it being completely submerged in either '11 or '08.  Soon, the city park will begin to fill with water.  I've heard that some of those houses by the park have had as much as 6' of water in their basements at times.  Makes me thankful I live on top of a hill!

 

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We are fully into the few weeks now where David is in Driver's Ed and Sam and Lizzie are taking swimming lessons.  It sounds like they are all doing well in their learning.  This means that I am leaving the house with everyone at 7:40 to get David to the school, coming home, and then leaving again at 10:35 to take the Littles to swimming.  I get them there, watch them get in the water, and then it's time to go collect David from the school.  He actually starts walking towards the country club as soon as class is over so I don't have to go all the way back to the school (unless he takes an alternate route to the country club like he did Monday because "it was more interesting" than the route I had driven with him, showing him exactly where to walk.  And then, he was surprised that I couldn't find him!  One of those moments that makes me question my choice to embrace motherhood the way I have...I think maybe raising 6 gerbils might have been easier).  We get home and it's nearly lunch time.  And then, David has so many hours of actual driving he has to do with an instructor, so it's not uncommon for me to be making a couple of more trips back to the school. 

 

I'm tired.

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Ellie turned 4 yesterday.  She may be the only kid I've ever had to threaten to spank on their birthday.  David said cheerfully, "Well, just think, Mom - you'll never have to raise another three year old, ever again!"  He does have a point.  I think I smiled when he said that!

 

My friend, Deb, brought a present and card for Ellie when she came on Monday to work with Ben and the others put it in the closet and told her she had to wait until her actual birthday to open it.  Ellie begged to open the card yesterday morning, so I let her.  She started ripping the envelope and exclaimed, "I hope there's a hunnerd dollars in here!"  I told her to not get her hopes up.  She opened it and then said in a disappointed voice, "Hey!  Where's my hunnerd dollars?"  This is a kid who is bound to be disappointed the rest of her life...

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I found out that a local organization has a backpack give-away for area foster and adopted-out-of-foster-care kids.  A Facebook friend heads this up and when she found out my kids are going to school this fall, she told me about it.  So, I may be able to save some money on school supplies with this.  It's funny...this doesn't bother me at all.  I think it's even kind of sweet.  But last month, I was sent a form by the school that informed me that because of our family income our kids were entitled to attend a night at the high school gym where they'd be given backpacks, school supplies, athletic shoes, and could have vaccinations and dental screenings.  All I had to do was sign up.  I hung onto the paper but I could never bring myself to fill it out.  This just seemed so welfare-y.  The cost to my pride wasn't worth it.  I guess if we were destitute it would be a different story.

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Speaking of giving...

 

Am I the only one bothered by the proliferation of GoFundMe sites popping up lately?  I'm not sure when these got started.  For the uninformed, GoFundMe is a way a person can raise money for a good cause.  They set up a site, explaining why they need funds, and then people can donate.  GoFundMe then releases the gifts bit by bit to the recipient.  I've seen them for everything from helping a family that's lost a parent to adoption fundraising to  people wanting to put a new roof on their home.

 

I don't mind the sites so much when they are set up on behalf of someone else.  I imagine they are a pretty convenient way to donate.  But I'm really kind of bothered by people that are setting these up for themselves.  These weren't around I don't think when Paul died.  People managed to be very generous with us despite that.  I've tried to think what I would have done if someone had set up a fund for us at that time.

 

I'm not sure.  I might have been a little embarrassed.

 

I am really not liking people that are setting up sites for themselves.  I'm not doubting that their needs are genuine, although I would imagine this kind of enterprise is ripe for exploitation by the greedy.  Although, that's where the giver has to be very wise and judicious in their choice to give in the first place.  I know there's the verse that says, "You have not because you ask not" but I'd have to do some research to find out just what was being discussed there.  Without looking, I think that verse refers to prayer.  Of course, it might help if I figured out the reference, first.  But I've heard Christians bandy that verse about as a way to justify asking for things.

 

And I'm not saying that there is never a time to ask for help.  While I haven't asked for money, I have certainly had to ask for a lot of other kinds of help the last couple of years.  That just feels different somehow, though.

 

But might there not be a temptation to create a GoFundMe site rather than to spend some intense time in prayer, petitioning God for one's need?  I don't know.

 

Maybe it's just my pride talking.  But it seems to me like we are creating a virtual land of beggars, too.  I don't like it.

 

Even if I can't really say it's wrong.

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I made a couple of strawberry pies last weekend.  It's been a few years.  It seems like I made some awhile back and they turned out runny, so I avoided the recipe for awhile.  This is a recipe I found in a magazine as a teenager.  I had a home ec assignment to bring in and try so many recipes during the semester and this is one I chose.  It was such a hit with me and my home ec teacher that years later, when she wrote her own cookbook, she included the recipe (and even credited me with finding it - sweet of her - I hope she's getting some strawberry pie in Heaven these days).  So I made the pies last weekend for my scrapbooking ladies who came over Friday night.  At the last minute I decided to make two pies, but I only had one package of strawberry jello.  Fortunately, I did have a package of strawberry-kiwi jello and I mixed that with the other.  It worked.  The pies turned out wonderful.  Lizzie had never had my strawberry pie before (see - it has been a while since I made it - she's been here for 3 years now) and could not stop gushing about it.  She declared that my pie was "the best pie in the whole world" and that I should make it every week. 

 

It's gratifying to have one's efforts appreciated with such enthusiasm!

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Today Lizzie commented that Dad died from a "cheesure."  Is it wrong for me to laugh?  She has a number of mispronunciations.  "Chickens" are "Shickens" and she likes to eat "ships" with her sandwich.  I wonder if she'll get referred for speech therapy when she starts school?

 

One of David's friends asked me last week if I thought Sam would always stutter for the rest of his life.  The question caught me by surprise because I guess I don't even notice the stuttering all that much anymore.  It's nothing severe, at any rate.  But maybe he'll end up with a referral, too.

 

I don't know.  David was in Speech for several years, but he still has a unique sound to his voice.  So many people have asked me if we have relatives on the East coast and every single year David comes home from camp with stories of people asking him if he's from England!  I don't know why he talks the way he does.  He has kind of a soft sound to his voice and a few letters he still doesn't pronounce very well.  I would imagine at 16 he's beyond any help.  I think that's ultimately why his Speech teacher gave up on him.  It doesn't bother me, any, I guess.  I can understand him, anyway!

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Last Friday was the Supreme Court ruling on gay marriage.  I wasn't suprised at the outcome.  I hear conservative pundits saying that the Court doesn't have this kind of authority and that, technically, gay marriage is NOT the law of the land.  I don't really understand how that works.  But, whatever the case, now it's going to be legal in all 50 states for gay couples to obtain marriage licenses and enter into a union recognized by both the state and federal government.

 

Of course, I know that gay marriage has not been redefined, despite what's being said.  God was pretty clear in His Word that marriage was only ever designed to be between one man and one woman.  Probably not cooincidentally, Tylenol came out a few days before the ruling with the most blatent pro-gay tv ad I've ever seen.  I imagine they are just the first.  My first thought was, "The kids can never see this!"  But that's crazy.  I can't hide the world from them.  So instead, I sat down with them and we watched the ad on youtube.  Then, I scrolled back, frame by frame, and had them tell me what was right or wrong with each scene.  Then I took them to Romans 10:17 that tells us that "Faith comes by hearing" and I explained to them that what we hear over and over again is what we'll begin to believe, unless we heed the rest of the verse which urges us to make our hearing centered around God's Word.  What a world I am preparing my children to live in!

 

What I found the saddest and most dismaying was the eruption on Facebook, especially, over this ruling.  People were estatic, changing their profile picture to rainbows, and spouting nonsense like, "Love wins!"  I wasn't bothered by my non-Christian friends doing this.  Honestly, if I didn't know the Lord, I'd probably be pro gay rights, too.  But I was deeply bothered by the number of my Christian friends that did this.  Christians!  People who claim to have a relationship with the Lord and who, I would presume, spend  regular time in His Word and are faithful in attending a Bible, truth-teaching church.  How can this be?  Have they been so worked over by our wordly society that they also view the Bible as something not relevant for today?  But if so, why take the name "Christian"?  I don't understand this.

I'm not saying it was the majority of my Christian friends.  There was plenty of outcry on FB against the ruling by them.  But it was enough to really hurt my heart and wonder where the church has gone wrong.

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"Rescue"...this is a word I've been thinking about lately in regards to adoption.  I've read a number of articles/blogs/FB posts where adoptive parents decry the use of that word.  "I didn't 'rescue' my adopted children any more than I 'rescued' my biological child from my womb!" one writer I recently read declared.

 

Hmmm....I know in our foster care classes we were warned to  never expect gratitude from our kids for taking them in.  If we did, we'd be sorely disappointed.  I'd agree with that.  Someday, I'd like to think that it will dawn on the girls what Paul and I did for them, but I imagine if that thought ever occurs it won't be until they are parents themselves.  In the meantime, I'm definitely not informing the girls just how fortunate they are that I agreed to give them a home.  It's not like that at all!

 

I can somewhat understand objecting to the word, "rescue" but I can't agree that it something bad to use, either, in regards to adoption.  And, it varies by situation to situation.  Paul and I wanted more children.  Adoption was a way to obtain them.  Granted, God had placed the desire specifically for adoption on my heart as a child, so it wasn't like we were adopting because we couldn't get them any other way.  This was a definite calling on our lives (I've also heard objection to that word relating to adoption as well - a thought for another day, I think).  I have read stories of couples who never had any intention of adopting but then a situation arises where they are in a position to help and in that sense, they truly do, "rescue" a child.

 

Lizzie and Ellie are my daughters.  It isn't like the boys are my "regular" children and the girls are the ones I swooped in and rescued out of a terrible situation.  If anyone did any swooping it was DHS who recognized the dangerous situation they lived in with their birth family. It was the Merritts who took in the  kids initially and dealt with all kinds of  - pardon my language - crap from the foster care system, inept social workers (some, not all!), and the birth family.  We entered the picture late in the game and missed a lot of the drama they had to endure.  They are heroic in what they went through for those kids.  Not me.

 

But, while we were pursuing the adoption, before the girls arrived, I developed a picture in my mind.  There was this deep, dark, chasm flanked by two mountains or cliffs.  In the chasm burned a frightening fire.

 

Hell.

 

I imagined a small child being held by her armpits above the flames by Satan on one side of the chasm.  He wore a gleeful smile as he prepared to hurl the child into the flames.

 

But then, on the other side, I saw Paul and me.  We were reaching out our arms to the child, but we couldn't grasp her.  Suddenly, Jesus appeared at our side and reached out for us.  And in that moment, He rescued the child, wrenching her out of Satan's hands, and then handed her to us.

 

This picture was so real in my mind.  It didn't take long for me to realize that we were battling Satan himself for the soul of the child(ren) that would eventually be placed with us.  If they did not come into our home, the possibility of being lost to the world and eventually ending up in Hell was a very real possibility, particularly given the background that they would undoubtably be coming from.

 

It's only in that sense that I can say my daughters were rescued.  But I didn't really do it, either.  If anything, Paul and I were simply the means by which God chose to rescue them.

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And on the subject of adoption...I am part of a skin and hair transracial adoption group on FB.  I really like this group.  The majority of the mothers do appear to be white with black or mixed children but there are enough black mothers that they are really, really helpful with questions that come up.  I haven't sensed any condenscending attitudes from them, either.  They want us to be able to help our children.

 

But what never occurred to me until just this week is that if these black mothers are in the group, it's because they have adopted transracially, too.  I don't know why I never thought about that until now!  I know it happens, but it still caught me off-guard. I wonder why?  Is it just because it's kind of uncommon or does it point to some deep-seated, unrecognized racism on my part? I had to laugh today.  Being fair skinned and giving birth to some very, very white children, I'm very familiar with sunburns - the prevention and care of.  Well, one mother snapped a picture of her daughters very red back, mentioned that  daughter had gone swimming with Grandma, and come back looking like this.  She wasn't sure what it was, but was guessing sunburn and needed advice on what to do for her.  My first thought was, "Is this a joke?"  But if you're dark skinned and don't burn (although both my girls do have swimsuit tans right now - I think no matter how dark you are, you can always get darker in the sun.  But maybe not burned.  Just to be safe, though, I do sunscreen up the girls)  why would you know?  I rather imagine it's like when we white moms come asking the same questions about conditioning and moisturizing hair.  To us, putting oil in hair is an anethema.  We don't want oil in our hair!  It takes awhile to get used to the idea of putting moisture in and to the fact that shampooing too often is detrimental to black hair.

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And speaking of hair...I still have my curls.  I cannot believe how much easier my life is now.  I literally am waking up every morning, running a pick through my hair, and going out the door.  This is after decades of subjecting my poor hair to all kinds of heat!  I'm still not convinced this is the best look for me, but I'm willing to risk that it's not just for the time I'm saving.  There are some times I look in the mirror and frown and think, "Maybe not..." But then, other times, I catch a glimpse of myself and find myself thinking, "Man, I look good!"  Everyone is asking me if these are natural.  Um, yes...I wouldn't pay for this look.  One lady at church, whom I have never had a conversation with (she only attends on Sun. mornings), stopped at my pew last week and asked about my hair.  She told me that she, too, has naturally curly hair, and had spent all her adult life taming it.  Then, she said, she got to be about 40 ("about your age!" she chirped.  Glad she didn't say, "Fifty"!) and decided the trouble wasn't worth it and started going natural and hasn't gone back since.

 

Sam and Lizzie have very interesting conversations at times.  I suppose it's because they are so close in age.  One day last week they were discussing my hair.  I was right there in the kitchen with them, but it was as if they didn't even know that. The topic of conversation was Mom's New Hair and one of them said, "Well, the curls definitely make her look younger, but all that gray makes her look older!"  The other one agreed and said, "Yeah, I think she needs to dye her hair again."

 

What gray?  I mean, I touch up my roots every so often, but I think the majority of my hair is still brown/blond.  So, I had to run to the bathroom and fluff through the back of my head, holding up a hand mirror.  I don't know what they were talking about.  It looks fine to me.  But just to be safe, I do have, "Touch up hair" on my to-do list now!

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I've been on an organization kick lately.  A couple of weeks ago I went to a home party for this company that sells  decorative home stuff, as well as a lot of organizational type tools - baskets, bins, etc.  I didn't buy a ton because the company is kind of expensive.  Well, they work with home parties - you're never going to get a bargain with that.  They have to pay all their distributers somehow!  But, my mind got to whirling that night on some "problem" areas in my house and how I might fix them.

 

I've come up with a number of ideas.  I ended up buying a $40 cube shelf last weekend at Target and David and I labored to get it tucked into the corner between my tv cabinet and the window in my bedroom.  I found some pretty baskets on-line and my sister-in-law gave me a very special cloth box from 31 last year that I've never been able to display and use the way it should be.  So now I've gotten rid of the mess inside my desk drawers and the piles of papers beside my desk.  Each bin has a purpose.  And I've just gained a lot of shelf space for displaying pretties, too.

 

I've decided to buy baskets or bins for the mudroom shelves and the shelves above the basement steps.  I figure I'll do this slowly, like one shelf a month, so I don't break the bank in my zeal to organize my life.  I was toying with the idea of buying bins to put underneath the kitchen benches so I'd have more space for towels and dish clothes.  Right now, I have to keep the overflow in my hall closet, which is a ways away from the kitchen.  But, then it occurred to me that the seats on those kitchen benches are hollow, with hinged lids.  I had some stuff in there, but it could be better organized.  I did that and now I have all kinds of room for my extra towels and cloths.  Sometimes organization isn't necessarily buying lots of containers, but just re-evaluating the way you use the space you already have.

 

I don't know...maybe I'm trying to organize my home in an attempt to gain some sort of control over my life, which has seemed a bit out of control the last few years.  If that's the case, I'm ultimately going to end up disappointed.  But, hopefully I am keeping everything in perspective and operating from a a pure motive.

 

I can organize my environment to a certain extent.  I am learning that I actually feel better when things are tidier and I don't have to look at messes.

 

But if I want my soul to be tidy, there's only one place I need to be looking.

 

Up.

 

 

 

 

What I have learned in two years of widowhood:

• God is good - so, so good
• I am loved far more than I ever knew
• I have amazing, resilient children (I am reaping what Paul sowed into their lives)
• Darkness eventually gives way to light
• Strength and wisdom are mine for the asking
• I don't have to have all the answers
• God delights in carefully and tenderly mending torn-apart hearts

Psalm 73:26: My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

ow with a certain amount of anticipation, although there are still moments when I am sick at heart to think that that future will never again include him, other than the quick glimpses I sometimes see in my sons. As much as hope is beginning to seep back into our lives, I am also accepting that, for the rest of our lives, we will be among the walking wounded, forever hurt and altered by Paul's early death. As sad as that sounds, it really isn't, though. Even scarred, life is still pretty beautiful.

What I have learned in two years of widowhood:

• God is good - so, so good
• I am loved far more than I ever knew
• I have amazing, resilient children (I am reaping what Paul sowed into their lives)
• Darkness eventually gives way to light
• Strength and wisdom are mine for the asking
• I don't have to have all the answers
• God delights in carefully and tenderly mending torn-apart hearts

Psalm 73:26: My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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