Gratitude

 Originally, I had this internal response to a Facebook posting (first mistake reading Facebook) regarding disappointment to a schoolboard meeting. I had this long drawn out declaration of Christians being saps (second mistake: becoming angry) do nothing compromisers (third mistake: name calling out into digital space-not very effective). I had memory verses to illustrate Jesus was a no nonsense man of action contributing to his community. My intent was to communicate the unhealthy state of our country and the absence of influence Christians have over culture lacking the ability to follow Jesus’ footsteps. Now that I have cooled down confessing my grievances, I recognize we as Believers in Jesus have a problem being different from the world falling into the same sinful patterns.

Then came the news of the Taliban reclaiming Afghanistan territory forcing desperate attempts for evacuation. The more I studied the coverage the more despair overcame me. Suddenly, my argument of winning the cultural wars seemed mute.

I kept searching the news sites for some promising progress. My prayers to God were begging for miracles. I even recruited my kids to pray with me. The miracles never seemed to appear. But mass shootings along with the suicide bomber were reported. Despair hung over me heavy and poisonous. Every little misstep by my children could be met with intolerance of their childishness. Scolding them for their spoiled reaction “while children are dying” slipped through lips. Shaming my children for squabbling amongst themselves as people flee for their lives seemed to console my soul. My lack of patience towards my children’s typical behavior warned me I had absolutely no business scrutinizing a Believer’s Facebook comment. I myself seemed like a raging lunatic internally.

God has an amazing way of touching hearts and minds. I am not always skilled at recognizing his works, but when he does. Wow!

Last night I felt a heavy weight thinking of the suicide bombing at the Afghan airport gate. The lives lost followed by the empty response on behalf of our government leaders distressed me. Then I allowed it to affect my conversation with my husband resulting without say “Goodnight.” The next morning, I was awoken with muddy poop left in various places around the house. My dog must have had a bad bellyache. Later in the morning it would be determined I had a missing chicken with no signs of foul play. (Something like feathers or carcass strewn about were missing.)

Needless to say, I was not in a good mood. The kids screaming with arguing did not help. In fact, they got to hear my wrath. Normally, I might feel guilty for snapping unkindly, but not today. I was ready to explode.

We graciously survived our lessons in government, science, and Spanish, but then I needed time to myself outside. For a homeschooling project I am disassembling wooden pallets. It makes for good grunt work; however, it is also mindless. I needed a moment to not be gentle. After about 30 minutes of shredding nails from boards my oldest daughter prances to me holding a piece of paper. Prior to school starting she had started her own project: Drawing our missing chicken with the title: “Have you seen her?” She announces to me she would like to find our chicken, and would it be okay to start asking the neighbors (on a weekday morning)? A giant smile finally charges across my face. “Sure,” I say, “but only go to the 4 closest neighbors.”

She starts to protest wanting to ask everyone; however, she yields when she realizes the chicken probably did not travel too far. By now the other two children are at her side ready to be her companions. I am supposed to detain the youngest. Still his enthusiasm cannot be thwarted. He is allowed to embark as well following his skipping sisters one whom is holding the very important image of the absent chicken.

The first two knocks on the doors to our left and our right respond with silence. The kids then run to the next closest neighbor, Mr. Bob. His reply is no chicken sightings in his yard, but he will be sure to ask his neighbor to the left when they return from work. My children return home with less vigor. Rather paced with defeat they have little evidence to show for their efforts. Nonetheless, we spend the remaining week praying our chicken will be returned safely.

These memories I will treasure because they had the will and the faith to try. Though they encountered the unanswered doors they kept pursing with hope. You know, even though the chicken has been missing for three weeks I still pray for a miracle. Practically, I know the hen is long gone, but my children’s persistence gives me hope my request is not falling on deaf ears. If my kids believe the hen can be found, then why can’t I?

I am sure I will expand on my discrepancies later of the American decline, especially at the rate of which it is happening. Yet, at this moment I want to reflect on child-like faith and child-like persistence is a much heathier perspective.  I am incredibly proud of my children. The noise and ruckus they can cause is downright irritating. No matter, they are still amazing human beings. As long as God has his hand on them, as I pray he does, I am not too anxious. I am merely hopeful in these very murky dismal days my children can hold up a torch of radiant light exalting the love of Jesus.

We Made It Down the River

 

In Disguise

 

The Summer of Horses

The girls had riding lessons this summer. I cannot say enough good things for Glory Hill Farm. The young woman pictured has such a huge love for the Lord while sharing the beauty of God's creation. It is a beautiful organization and I hope for many wonderful years of instructions for my kids. 

 

Gloryhillfarm.org

Gymnastics

The girls started gymnastics. I had my doubts because when I took gymnastics it was a very rigorous format with a giant amount of discipline. I didn't think my girls would enjoy the sport and begging to return to ballet. Well.... I was very wrong. This particular academy is structured for enjoyment. They train for skill, but also to excel through fun pleasure. These kids will not be debuting during the Olympics, but they're going to have an awesome time playing. 

Hopefully, better pictures to come. 

First Week of Co-op

We started our co-op this week. It went great meeting many new faces from families beginning the adventure of homeschooling. I myself and the kids are excited this year learning many wonderful topics with friends. Starting off I'm teaching Folk Art, the first class discussing woodworking. It went well but we worked outside in the heat building signs made of pallet wood. After all the preparation and all the running around and the clean up I was bushed, as pictured below. It's the best kind of tired. A job well done. 

 

911- 20 years later

 On the 2oth anniversary of 911 I woke up with a dreadful feeling this morning anticipating history would change in one dreadful swoop. Thus far today has been calm, quiet (relatively with three children), and gorgeously beautiful. Yet, there is this sickening feeling in my gut all hell is about to break loose. Perhaps I offer too much attention towards global political events with menacing retaliation.

I do not have a great story about the day of 911, but I remember it clearly. I had just started my senior year of college where I lived with two roommates in a disgusting apartment about two blocks from the college campus. I was getting ready for my 9:30 am senior art class when one roommate walked into the kitchen stating she heard reported on NPR a plane hitting a New York building. I remember thinking, “Huh. Well….. we better get going or going to be late for class.” Being rather dismissive we continued our routine and I walked to class. By the time I arrived at the Art Building a group of students in my class were congregated outside the door. Just as I was about to enter through the door I was stopped by the chattering, “Class has been cancelled.” The bewildered look on my face triggered the response, “Didn’t you hear? The Twin Towers have been hit by two planes?” As I stood there in shock learning the details my roommate’s statement of a plane hitting a building suddenly made sense.

I did not stay at the Art Building long. Instead, I made my way to the student recreation center. Near the entrance there was a large room equipped with lounge sitting and a large screen tv. The room was full of students’ eyes glued to the horrifying events unraveling on live air. By this time the Pentagon had been struck and the towers collapsed reducing the area to ash and smoke. For a couple of hours, I shared those images with students I had never known nor knew a name to match. Nevertheless, we shared the fear things were going to be different and dreaded the idea of how many lives would be lost. I eventually wondered back to my apartment. There, my roommates had the tv on feeding any morsel of information available. We knew something sinister was occurring. We knew the magnitude of destruction was vast. Now, as I reflect, I can admit I truly had no idea how terrorism changed the course of the US government’s attention.

Apart from the day of 911 my conceited peripheral vision had little notice of the world beyond my college town. I had a friend who promised his fiancé he would not enlist after graduation. I remember thinking I should drive to New York for photo ops since my emphasis was photojournalism. I was told I did not stand chance for permission to enter Long Island. I remember seeing coverage of the slow clean up process. I had a friend from New York who was concerned about her family. The rumors of war slowly took shape against terrorism. For some reason Afghanistan, a place I had never heard of, kept being mentioned. We noticed gas prices start to increase with irritation to my limited budget. Suddenly, a trip to New York had lost all interest. However, flying to Los Vegas because airfare plummeted caught my fancy. These are my memories lingering after the effects of September 11.

All my attention was on college directly encircling me. I knew of no one enlisting. I knew nothing of Bin Laden. I rarely watched television therefore I did not follow the news. I was locked into my own isolated world of preparing my senor project. Meanwhile, the government was ramping up war against an idea. A concept of religion involving thousands of more deaths. The attacks on 9/11 showed little effect on my daily life.

Fast forward to March of 2003. The Bush Administration had finally convinced the Congress and other countries Iraq was the next target for terrorism. Weapons of Mass Destruction. I remember standing in an empty hospital lobby the night US troops with night vision glasses invaded Bagdad on the 20^th of March. It is funny, after fighting in Afghanistan for over a year that is my first recollection of retaliation for the attacks on American soil.

Now after US removal from Afghanistan two decades later do I understand a larger scope of the picture. Everyone has different opinions: Libertarians- “Don’t force democracy on people who don’t want it.” Liberals- “We have to show equality and equity.” Neo-Cons- “We fight until we obliterate into submission.” Conservatives- boots on the ground for eyes and ears. Missionaries- “We need to save their souls.” I have my opinions on how the situation should have been managed, but it matters little now for the damage has been done. Full circle with little to show for it. What I will acknowledge is I fear retribution more than I ever have. The perfect surprise organizing the 911 attacks I think could pale in comparison to what may happen in the near future.

 Over the last few years, we have demonstrated repeatedly our weak judgmental hammering of fellow citizens. We are tearing ourselves apart by an attitude of disunity. We wallow in disgruntle muttering of our neighbor. We become complacent allowing the enemy to devour within distracted by our daily conveniences. How dismissive we react to whispering threats. How ignorant we behave towards facts. How biased we respond to differing opinions. We constantly eat our own attack upon attack on each other while either distracted or ignoring the enemy slipping from behind. If we did endure another act of jihad there would be no unity. Nothing like what we saw after September 12, 2001. Church services were held across the country in memory of the loss. Congress sang in choir “God Bless America.” Can you imagine that happening today?

Today I made my girls watch a 10 minute video explaining the events of 911 for children. I offered further explanation we live in a sinful fallen world. Bad things happen all the time, however as Believers in Jesus we have a better sense of security and salvation of hope found in Jesus. I want my children to understand bad things happen quickly ruining our grasp of life on Earth, but with Jesus that does not matter. Our eternity is with him. I also want my children to know we do not sit around blindly ignoring dangers around us nor accepting false teaching. We are rooted in God’s Word. We love and help our fellow neighbor. We walk away from foolishness. We live boldly with the forgiving love of Jesus.

These last two years I have felt as if the world is rapidly collapsing inward. If I can focus on the everlasting truth of Jesus, I can remind myself not to be disheartened. The faith of people who have lost so much as a result of 911 are a testimony to that very fact.