Well, it's a new day and exactly as I predicted yesterday, not nearly as dark.
I'm finding a path slowly.
It's simple really. God blessed me with really difficult kids. Foster kids are hard, but I was asked to do this. Autism stinks, but these are my boys.
All for a reason.
All for a reason.
And so, I'm taking a deep breath and taking the next step.
In the last few days I've spent a lot of time just being quiet and praying and resting.
As always, God spoke. The answer is this. Give them enough grace and mercy and love. Be patient and kind. Wait on My time and they will indeed come around.
So I will continue on my quest to be a quiet, calm mom. I will try to see beyond what everyone else is doing and where my little gaggle of kids doesn't quite measure up. I will try instead to see the places where they've grown and been gifted. I will try to believe that big hearts will count. I will try not to hear the comments in the places we go. I will try not to see the stares and glares.
For the sake of the kids I will try to be bigger than all the garbage around them. I will try again, not to be a part of the junk, but a part of something that is good in their lives.
I will try to remember that our path was meant for us and no one else. I will try to remember that we really don't belong on someone elses path.
***********Update***********
God blessed me in the parking lot of the grocery store this afternoon.
I was weary of shopping and people and my Littlest Mr. after an hour at the cheap mart trying to decide what to buy for the sibs for their birthday.
Getting out and walking in was a slow and steady whine. Mommy, can we get some munchies? Please??
I gave the standard mommy responses, not on the list, do you really think it's ok, let's try to find something your brother and sister like too.
An older lady was following us. She caught up and talked to me.
She said:
"you're a really good mom"
"I just want to thank you for doing such a good job"
"no one ever thanks the moms, so I want to thank you"
I'm not kidding.
And she was real.
I know because she was there in the aisles as we went through the store filling our cart. She keep appearing and repeating her lines.
"you're a good mom, thank you for doing it"
So, I just thought I'd let you know. God was at Pick-N-Save this afternoon. She had gray hair and a pink sweatshirt and a sense of humor when my little boy gave her his most irreverent "whatever".
Saturday, May 31, 2008
Friday, May 30, 2008
I Never Make Sense Except Inside My Own Head, or I Am The Drama Queen
A few days ago I was posting about songs that bring me to tears, some times, though, it isn't the songs, just the life I'm living in.
For the most part, I have very few dark days, but when they're dark, they're really dark.
It seems that when God feels the need to speak to me it is giant sized instead of small and gentle. Perhaps I just don't pay attention well.
All in all, my stuff is small and silly. Some of the places I where I tune in to other peoples lives, the level of tragedy is beyond what I can imagine a human being enduring, and yet I'm still able to see God in the tears. Utterly amazing.
Somehow, though, when it is you that is being broken, it is hard and raw even if the reasons are petty.
It is always startling to be faced with your own failures. It is always daunting to look at and try to think through. It is always painful to accept, even when you see clearly that it is for your own good.
As my heart breaks these days over my own garbage, I'm trying to look out and see the sun. I'm trying to catch a glimpse of how this will be for His glory, how He will use it. I want to see something besides myself. I want to feel something else.
I am not pathetic, and yet I miss the days of friends.
I am a social person and I miss having those contacts. It is hard to go places and be known, but still know no one. I miss my small group from years ago. Even when I went to be with my fellow moms and I just couldn't give voice to the things deepest in my heart, they could see, somehow my aches and were able to pray for me and with me. They were able to just simply be with me.
It is hard to be alone.
I know that I am not alone from Him. But it is still hard to be alone from people.
I miss having real phone calls or silly chats. I miss running into people who are real friends or even just pals. I miss the cups of coffee and safe spots in life.
Today, perhaps only for just an hour or two, I am drowning, I am lost and broken.
I know there is light. I know I'm on the path. I know all this will be redeemed and used. I know this will be a part of who I am in the end and yet while I'm in it, it's harsh.
My reality is this life I'm living. I need to find the ways to accept it for EXACTLY what it is and not all the things I wish it to be or hope for it to become.
It is seeing that a huge part of my life these days is simply "taking it" while still showing grace and love to all those "giving it" to me.
I know it will come. I know I will have it provided at the very moments I need it.
For the most part, I have very few dark days, but when they're dark, they're really dark.
It seems that when God feels the need to speak to me it is giant sized instead of small and gentle. Perhaps I just don't pay attention well.
All in all, my stuff is small and silly. Some of the places I where I tune in to other peoples lives, the level of tragedy is beyond what I can imagine a human being enduring, and yet I'm still able to see God in the tears. Utterly amazing.
Somehow, though, when it is you that is being broken, it is hard and raw even if the reasons are petty.
It is always startling to be faced with your own failures. It is always daunting to look at and try to think through. It is always painful to accept, even when you see clearly that it is for your own good.
As my heart breaks these days over my own garbage, I'm trying to look out and see the sun. I'm trying to catch a glimpse of how this will be for His glory, how He will use it. I want to see something besides myself. I want to feel something else.
I am not pathetic, and yet I miss the days of friends.
I am a social person and I miss having those contacts. It is hard to go places and be known, but still know no one. I miss my small group from years ago. Even when I went to be with my fellow moms and I just couldn't give voice to the things deepest in my heart, they could see, somehow my aches and were able to pray for me and with me. They were able to just simply be with me.
It is hard to be alone.
I know that I am not alone from Him. But it is still hard to be alone from people.
I miss having real phone calls or silly chats. I miss running into people who are real friends or even just pals. I miss the cups of coffee and safe spots in life.
Today, perhaps only for just an hour or two, I am drowning, I am lost and broken.
I know there is light. I know I'm on the path. I know all this will be redeemed and used. I know this will be a part of who I am in the end and yet while I'm in it, it's harsh.
My reality is this life I'm living. I need to find the ways to accept it for EXACTLY what it is and not all the things I wish it to be or hope for it to become.
It is seeing that a huge part of my life these days is simply "taking it" while still showing grace and love to all those "giving it" to me.
I know it will come. I know I will have it provided at the very moments I need it.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Music
Over at Quiet Life today the topic is music.
Music is key to our lives. Just reading through and thinking about some of the listed songs and the songs of my life brought tears to my eyes.
So I'll share just a glimpse over here, but head over to Quiet Life and relive some memories.
Amanda by Boston, was meeting the love of my life.
Marillion was someone I knew long ago who pushed me along. He never realized it and I didn't for many, many years, but knowing him and that time in my life was really a start of growing up. It was perhaps the first time I ever made a really big girl decision, of course it was to walk away and on to something else, but it was a decision just the same.
Pseudo was varsity cheer leading. We rocked at summer camp.
I Wish You Peace by the Eagles, was Senior year, Jazz band, Miles, moving on and saying good bye.
Cyndi Lauper, Tina Turner, Indigo Girls and Sarah McLachlan was a summer of girl stuff. Concerts and parties and lots more growing up. Man oh man, I lived and loved that year.
Come Sail Away was college, sailing and Oshkosh.
Brown Eyed Girl has been a theme song for years and years.
Jesus Loves Me rocked each one of my babies to sleep.
It's Time For Me To Fly was my wedding day. I know, a little strange, but it was what it was.
Now, it's the worship songs that bring me to tears and give voice to my days, my heart. Songs like Jesus, Bring the Rain; the new version of Amazing Grace, Bless The Broken Road.
I know most of the titles are wrong, but I know you know what I mean.
I know too, that you're like everyone else. You list could go on and on, event after event, year after year.
Songs are a part of what makes our lives what they are.
Music is key to our lives. Just reading through and thinking about some of the listed songs and the songs of my life brought tears to my eyes.
So I'll share just a glimpse over here, but head over to Quiet Life and relive some memories.
Amanda by Boston, was meeting the love of my life.
Marillion was someone I knew long ago who pushed me along. He never realized it and I didn't for many, many years, but knowing him and that time in my life was really a start of growing up. It was perhaps the first time I ever made a really big girl decision, of course it was to walk away and on to something else, but it was a decision just the same.
Pseudo was varsity cheer leading. We rocked at summer camp.
I Wish You Peace by the Eagles, was Senior year, Jazz band, Miles, moving on and saying good bye.
Cyndi Lauper, Tina Turner, Indigo Girls and Sarah McLachlan was a summer of girl stuff. Concerts and parties and lots more growing up. Man oh man, I lived and loved that year.
Come Sail Away was college, sailing and Oshkosh.
Brown Eyed Girl has been a theme song for years and years.
Jesus Loves Me rocked each one of my babies to sleep.
It's Time For Me To Fly was my wedding day. I know, a little strange, but it was what it was.
Now, it's the worship songs that bring me to tears and give voice to my days, my heart. Songs like Jesus, Bring the Rain; the new version of Amazing Grace, Bless The Broken Road.
I know most of the titles are wrong, but I know you know what I mean.
I know too, that you're like everyone else. You list could go on and on, event after event, year after year.
Songs are a part of what makes our lives what they are.
A Lesson In Selfishness
Being selfish is something we can't seem to get past. I think it's a part of our human condition. It's a never ending lesson to be teaching children. It often seems to me like all behavior issues come back around to just general selfishness.
This week I got an extra teaching opportunity.
Yesterday I got an email from my sister-in-law. Over the weekend their family of 7 was in the van going somewhere. They were stopped at a stop sign when they were hit head on by a drunk driver.
As I talked with the boys today about praying for their cousins, the question was asked, "Mom, why would someone drink and drive?"
After thinking about it for a minute, my answer was selfishness. The person who chose to drink and drive was simply selfish. They thought of nothing and no one else. They thought only of what they wanted.
This person wanted to have a few drinks, have a good time, drown a sorrow or whatever. They wanted to go somewhere without the bother of a bus or taxi or walking. They didn't feel like following the rules and laws.
It's a lesson to be taught young, over and over. It's a lesson to keep on teaching over and over. It's a lesson I hope my kids will both learn before they're old enough to do some big damage with selfishness and have a chance to learn.
This week I got an extra teaching opportunity.
Yesterday I got an email from my sister-in-law. Over the weekend their family of 7 was in the van going somewhere. They were stopped at a stop sign when they were hit head on by a drunk driver.
As I talked with the boys today about praying for their cousins, the question was asked, "Mom, why would someone drink and drive?"
After thinking about it for a minute, my answer was selfishness. The person who chose to drink and drive was simply selfish. They thought of nothing and no one else. They thought only of what they wanted.
This person wanted to have a few drinks, have a good time, drown a sorrow or whatever. They wanted to go somewhere without the bother of a bus or taxi or walking. They didn't feel like following the rules and laws.
It's a lesson to be taught young, over and over. It's a lesson to keep on teaching over and over. It's a lesson I hope my kids will both learn before they're old enough to do some big damage with selfishness and have a chance to learn.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
The Wise Mr.
And so he says to me late last night
after the sounds of our day had faded down to a dull rumble
you know,
I've been thinking
that I really ought to say
something
I'm just not sure
what
hmm
in a couple that's been toghether
through so much
over more than the last 20 years
that was
enough
I've heard
the message
Somewhere along the last few months, I'd lost my way. It wasn't that I was wandering or really doing things so far out of character as to be disasterous. Not at all. It was simply that I'd taken my eyes off my own path.
It is a true danger in any parenting, living, homeschooling, what ever. It is easy to fall into the keeping up, comparing, what if-ing of life. It's hard to stay the course with a steady hand on the wheel, an eye to the compass, another on the horizon and an ear to the wind, but that is where the peace lies.
It's where my peace lies. It's where my joy is found, shaking the small stuff, living all in, eyes focused on my group and their path, heart filled up with them, ears only for what they speak, knowing that if I live like that, full in, there will be heart ache and joy unspeakable.
Both together.
And that, my friend, is all good.
after the sounds of our day had faded down to a dull rumble
you know,
I've been thinking
that I really ought to say
something
I'm just not sure
what
hmm
in a couple that's been toghether
through so much
over more than the last 20 years
that was
enough
I've heard
the message
Somewhere along the last few months, I'd lost my way. It wasn't that I was wandering or really doing things so far out of character as to be disasterous. Not at all. It was simply that I'd taken my eyes off my own path.
It is a true danger in any parenting, living, homeschooling, what ever. It is easy to fall into the keeping up, comparing, what if-ing of life. It's hard to stay the course with a steady hand on the wheel, an eye to the compass, another on the horizon and an ear to the wind, but that is where the peace lies.
It's where my peace lies. It's where my joy is found, shaking the small stuff, living all in, eyes focused on my group and their path, heart filled up with them, ears only for what they speak, knowing that if I live like that, full in, there will be heart ache and joy unspeakable.
Both together.
And that, my friend, is all good.
Happy Birthday
Today is The Littlest Mr.'s 6th birthday.
He is delightfully riding his new skateboard down the hall. Yes, in the house.
Normally, I'd make him go outside with it, but this is Wisconsin. What does that mean? Well, even though it's now after Memorial Day, we had wind chills last night down to freezing. As a result, it is really cold out this morning.
Bored with the hall already, they are searching for their heavy sweatshirts so they can go out. Ah, the continued blessing of homeschool, being able to go out and skateboard at 8:15 when all the other kids are getting ready to begin classes.
We are also waiting to hear today about the birth of another little one. This baby seems to be having a long hard entry into this world. A lot of them seem to come in this way. Their mama's and daddy's make wonderful birth plans and then these little ones come in some other way. Or, at least, that was our experience over here.
We had wonderful birth plans for each boy, and then they came their own way. And guess what, we were still blessed, and they were still babies. It was for us an indicator though, these were not to be the children we dreamed they would be. No, they were each their own person, and they continue to be just that. Our task these days is to take them and love them as they are.
The outdoor skateboarding time was less than the time it took to type this. Wisconsin weather, it's always interesting.
He is delightfully riding his new skateboard down the hall. Yes, in the house.
Normally, I'd make him go outside with it, but this is Wisconsin. What does that mean? Well, even though it's now after Memorial Day, we had wind chills last night down to freezing. As a result, it is really cold out this morning.
Bored with the hall already, they are searching for their heavy sweatshirts so they can go out. Ah, the continued blessing of homeschool, being able to go out and skateboard at 8:15 when all the other kids are getting ready to begin classes.
We are also waiting to hear today about the birth of another little one. This baby seems to be having a long hard entry into this world. A lot of them seem to come in this way. Their mama's and daddy's make wonderful birth plans and then these little ones come in some other way. Or, at least, that was our experience over here.
We had wonderful birth plans for each boy, and then they came their own way. And guess what, we were still blessed, and they were still babies. It was for us an indicator though, these were not to be the children we dreamed they would be. No, they were each their own person, and they continue to be just that. Our task these days is to take them and love them as they are.
The outdoor skateboarding time was less than the time it took to type this. Wisconsin weather, it's always interesting.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
The Great Camp Out
In the back yard of course!
The Little Mr.'s have been pleading their case for summer camping and we thought it wise to have a test run in the back yard. So out they went last night.
We had all the important questions to answer like, "which way do you get into the sleeping bag? Do I put my head in first or my feet?" "Does the dog really sleep in the tent too?" "What if I have to go potty and it's dark?"
Obviously it's been a while since the tent has been out of it's bag.
Over all, it went very smoothly. We learned that The Littlest Mr. is a natural. He climbed right in, laid down and went straight to sleep. Not a single peep until the early morning potty run. The dog was not convinced about the whole thing and ended up in the house with me and Little Miss around 11:30. Then there is The Little Mr. He has issues. He was in and out of the house and tent quite a bit before settling in, but for who he is, he did great.
I guess what it means is that there may be some camping trips in my summer after all. It's been a long time since I've gone and I'm not sure how much I relish the idea of ground sleeping. It's a whole lot easier to do when you're younger and have less kids and dogs. Oh well. I'm sure we'll give it a spin and do our best to make the best of it.
The Little Mr.'s have been pleading their case for summer camping and we thought it wise to have a test run in the back yard. So out they went last night.
We had all the important questions to answer like, "which way do you get into the sleeping bag? Do I put my head in first or my feet?" "Does the dog really sleep in the tent too?" "What if I have to go potty and it's dark?"
Obviously it's been a while since the tent has been out of it's bag.
Over all, it went very smoothly. We learned that The Littlest Mr. is a natural. He climbed right in, laid down and went straight to sleep. Not a single peep until the early morning potty run. The dog was not convinced about the whole thing and ended up in the house with me and Little Miss around 11:30. Then there is The Little Mr. He has issues. He was in and out of the house and tent quite a bit before settling in, but for who he is, he did great.
I guess what it means is that there may be some camping trips in my summer after all. It's been a long time since I've gone and I'm not sure how much I relish the idea of ground sleeping. It's a whole lot easier to do when you're younger and have less kids and dogs. Oh well. I'm sure we'll give it a spin and do our best to make the best of it.
Saturday, May 24, 2008
4AM is Dark
Ever wonder what 4AM looks like?
The moon is still up, but the birds are singing. The paper is not here. The coffee is not done. The dog is hungry. The baby is awake and miserable. So am I.
I was hoping this weekend to get some decent sleep. Last night, I got two three hour naps. Good, but not great, but it will have to be good enough.
The moon is still up, but the birds are singing. The paper is not here. The coffee is not done. The dog is hungry. The baby is awake and miserable. So am I.
I was hoping this weekend to get some decent sleep. Last night, I got two three hour naps. Good, but not great, but it will have to be good enough.
Friday, May 23, 2008
Week's Over
It's the start of a holiday weekend and I have no plans. All I can think about it what a long, awful struggle this week was. There seemed to be such a constant nit picking feel to the week. It was like having sand in your socks all week long.
Nothing so unbearable that you had to stop, but yet so distracting. All week I was bothered. I was moving at a pace to quick for the sand in my socks. I knew that by this time, I'd have blisters.
And I do. I feel blistered by this week. Raw and scalded all over, and yet by what exactly, I'm not sure I could put my finger on. It's been everything and nothing and all the nothing things that I made into big things.
I think really, it's all the same stuff I've been whining about for days now. The lingering, unresolved things in my life. I have to deal with them both because God put me here, and because I made the choices that led me here.
Foster care and home school and everything else that is just plain life are things that bless me, grow me and humble me. They are also the things that break me, leaving me raw and bleeding.
No part of life that involves a child is simple or clear or easy. No part of loving a "special" child comes without that bitter coating or insane level of exhaustion. Some days, often days, you are faced with the cliche that rings with truth, if you don't laugh, you'll cry. There are no places or people left that have room for tears.
These are the days of cliches that ring true. What doesn't kill you, strengthens you. Well, yeah, kind of it does. Parenting "special" kids, or really any kids is a thing that will grow a spine where you never knew you were missing one. The most demure women will become raging mama bears. A soft spoken man of few words will become a very loud advocate for his child. A trusting parent will seek out all possible treatments for cure, suddenly doubting authority. A spend thrift will spoil a son or daughter down to the last cent.
Parenting is where we find out what we're made of. It's a life time job without a break. It demands an attitude of just plain doing what ever it takes.
I see fewer and fewer parents around me who can do this. I see even less who are willing.
Nothing so unbearable that you had to stop, but yet so distracting. All week I was bothered. I was moving at a pace to quick for the sand in my socks. I knew that by this time, I'd have blisters.
And I do. I feel blistered by this week. Raw and scalded all over, and yet by what exactly, I'm not sure I could put my finger on. It's been everything and nothing and all the nothing things that I made into big things.
I think really, it's all the same stuff I've been whining about for days now. The lingering, unresolved things in my life. I have to deal with them both because God put me here, and because I made the choices that led me here.
Foster care and home school and everything else that is just plain life are things that bless me, grow me and humble me. They are also the things that break me, leaving me raw and bleeding.
No part of life that involves a child is simple or clear or easy. No part of loving a "special" child comes without that bitter coating or insane level of exhaustion. Some days, often days, you are faced with the cliche that rings with truth, if you don't laugh, you'll cry. There are no places or people left that have room for tears.
These are the days of cliches that ring true. What doesn't kill you, strengthens you. Well, yeah, kind of it does. Parenting "special" kids, or really any kids is a thing that will grow a spine where you never knew you were missing one. The most demure women will become raging mama bears. A soft spoken man of few words will become a very loud advocate for his child. A trusting parent will seek out all possible treatments for cure, suddenly doubting authority. A spend thrift will spoil a son or daughter down to the last cent.
Parenting is where we find out what we're made of. It's a life time job without a break. It demands an attitude of just plain doing what ever it takes.
I see fewer and fewer parents around me who can do this. I see even less who are willing.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Balance?
Here at our place we get the nightly news at both 9 and 10.
The Little Mr. has been asking to stay up and watch the news, so tonight was the night for him to watch at 9.
After it was over, I asked him what he thought.
Get ready, insights from a child.
"Hey mom,(see, I told you this was my name), seems like most of the stories were about teens beating someone up."
"Hey mom, there's a lot of crime out there."
"Hey mom, is that close to where Little Miss will live with her mom?"
"Hey mom, why did they only show bad stuff? Didn't any good news happen today? Aren't they supposed to show some good stuff to balance out all the bad stuff?"
The Little Mr. has been asking to stay up and watch the news, so tonight was the night for him to watch at 9.
After it was over, I asked him what he thought.
Get ready, insights from a child.
"Hey mom,(see, I told you this was my name), seems like most of the stories were about teens beating someone up."
"Hey mom, there's a lot of crime out there."
"Hey mom, is that close to where Little Miss will live with her mom?"
"Hey mom, why did they only show bad stuff? Didn't any good news happen today? Aren't they supposed to show some good stuff to balance out all the bad stuff?"
The Thrill of the Grill
Gas grills are one of the best inventions ever.
Especially when you're down to one adult. With The Mr. on the coast, we're eating off the grill until his return. Well, probably for the rest of the non-freezing weather season.
I just really love how simple it is and that it's outside. So many less dishes and that brief escape from the house every few minutes to check or flip whatever thing your burning.
This week, with daddy away, we're high dining on hot dogs and burgers.
The kids think it's great. They said tonight, "Hey Mom, This is just like when you're gone!" And yes, my name around here is Hey Mom, but you have to say it so it sounds like a single word.
The days are long and the nights not long enough, but it's just a week, and we're half way through.
Especially when you're down to one adult. With The Mr. on the coast, we're eating off the grill until his return. Well, probably for the rest of the non-freezing weather season.
I just really love how simple it is and that it's outside. So many less dishes and that brief escape from the house every few minutes to check or flip whatever thing your burning.
This week, with daddy away, we're high dining on hot dogs and burgers.
The kids think it's great. They said tonight, "Hey Mom, This is just like when you're gone!" And yes, my name around here is Hey Mom, but you have to say it so it sounds like a single word.
The days are long and the nights not long enough, but it's just a week, and we're half way through.
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
No Good Day Begins At 4:AM
That's my story and I'm sticking to it.
My day did begin somewhere in the relm of 4:AM and it has most definately not been a good day.
I spent about 3 hours of it on the road with 3 poorly behaved children behind me.
I spent about $400 dollars to get some medical advice that I'm not happy with.
I spent about 3 hours trying to talk a child down.
I spent about 2 hours trying to talk a child into doing some school work.
I spent an hour cleaning up the parts of the house that I'd already cleaned the day before.
I spent 30 minutes going to the store to buy the same stuff that I have in my freezer but forgot to take out yesterday so it would be thawed out to serve to the teen group tonight.
I've had 2 drinks and 2 tylenol and still have 1 head ache.
In two days I've made contact with our case worker about 30 times.
I've mopped and done laundry, applied first aid, changed diapers and done general referee duties. I've been a good wife and a mostly patient mom and adequate house maid and polite receptionist.
It's only Tuesday afternoon, and I'm exhausted.
With all the other things looming in the back ground of our lives right now, I can say with assurance that this is all simply an attack by the Evil One, but that doesn't make it any easier to endure.
My day did begin somewhere in the relm of 4:AM and it has most definately not been a good day.
I spent about 3 hours of it on the road with 3 poorly behaved children behind me.
I spent about $400 dollars to get some medical advice that I'm not happy with.
I spent about 3 hours trying to talk a child down.
I spent about 2 hours trying to talk a child into doing some school work.
I spent an hour cleaning up the parts of the house that I'd already cleaned the day before.
I spent 30 minutes going to the store to buy the same stuff that I have in my freezer but forgot to take out yesterday so it would be thawed out to serve to the teen group tonight.
I've had 2 drinks and 2 tylenol and still have 1 head ache.
In two days I've made contact with our case worker about 30 times.
I've mopped and done laundry, applied first aid, changed diapers and done general referee duties. I've been a good wife and a mostly patient mom and adequate house maid and polite receptionist.
It's only Tuesday afternoon, and I'm exhausted.
With all the other things looming in the back ground of our lives right now, I can say with assurance that this is all simply an attack by the Evil One, but that doesn't make it any easier to endure.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Got Milk?
OK, this just plain amused me.
An Illinois highway was blocked today by an Oreo cookie spill.
Seems the truck tipped over and spilled the cookies out on the road.
And people did not eat their way out of this traffic jam?
Seriously, what is wrong with people?
Even without milk, I could munch a handful on my way past.
That's it, just slow down all the passing traffic and hand them a few cookies on the way through. I bet it would put a bunch of them in a better mood.
Well, maybe not, but it would work for me.
Almost like drive through Oreos.
An Illinois highway was blocked today by an Oreo cookie spill.
Seems the truck tipped over and spilled the cookies out on the road.
And people did not eat their way out of this traffic jam?
Seriously, what is wrong with people?
Even without milk, I could munch a handful on my way past.
That's it, just slow down all the passing traffic and hand them a few cookies on the way through. I bet it would put a bunch of them in a better mood.
Well, maybe not, but it would work for me.
Almost like drive through Oreos.
A Lost Day
It always seems like a lost day when Little Miss goes visiting.
First we always have the confusion of whether or not she's actually going. Once it's decided, then we have her drama for an hour or two until the pick up. Next we have several phone calls, and about 20 odd emails.
Once all that is settled, I usually try to "catch up" on my phone calls, forms, paper work and computer junk. For the boys it means play time.
Today they constructed this very elaborate world inside their room. It is complete with several different species of living things and many "lands". I'm going to leave it at living things, because certainly not all the things are human. The best part, was the peace. For a change we had no drama come out of that room.
The next part of our day was school. Today, it meant mom sitting on the floor with the printer and the math work books. It seems that everyone is near the end of their work books and wants the final pages. They want to see how many are left and figure out how fast they can get them done. Now, done doesn't mean we're off for the summer, no, quite the opposite. Done means they can start the next book in their respective series. Who knew math was that cool?
So, now they're waiting for the delivery truck to come. You'd think it was because their birthday's are just around the corner and they're hoping for gifts. Really though, we're geeks, nerds at heart, we're waiting for our phonics books and math texts.
It will be a hectic week of doctors, therapy, visits, emails, long drives, lessons and sports. Crazy long nights with The Mr. traveling and Little Miss protesting all that's out of line in her life. In other words, pretty average.
First we always have the confusion of whether or not she's actually going. Once it's decided, then we have her drama for an hour or two until the pick up. Next we have several phone calls, and about 20 odd emails.
Once all that is settled, I usually try to "catch up" on my phone calls, forms, paper work and computer junk. For the boys it means play time.
Today they constructed this very elaborate world inside their room. It is complete with several different species of living things and many "lands". I'm going to leave it at living things, because certainly not all the things are human. The best part, was the peace. For a change we had no drama come out of that room.
The next part of our day was school. Today, it meant mom sitting on the floor with the printer and the math work books. It seems that everyone is near the end of their work books and wants the final pages. They want to see how many are left and figure out how fast they can get them done. Now, done doesn't mean we're off for the summer, no, quite the opposite. Done means they can start the next book in their respective series. Who knew math was that cool?
So, now they're waiting for the delivery truck to come. You'd think it was because their birthday's are just around the corner and they're hoping for gifts. Really though, we're geeks, nerds at heart, we're waiting for our phonics books and math texts.
It will be a hectic week of doctors, therapy, visits, emails, long drives, lessons and sports. Crazy long nights with The Mr. traveling and Little Miss protesting all that's out of line in her life. In other words, pretty average.
Friday, May 16, 2008
The Silence Is Killing Me
This is a stretch of life that feels like insanity. That is the best way to describe it. It’s a bit of a test.
I’m a chatter sort of person. The more I can talk about something, the better I feel about it. Chatter is how I sort something out and begin to make sense of it.
Right now, that’s just not an option. I have several things lingering in the background that I want to just talk to death to every possible person I meet, so that I can begin to work them out in my mind and yet I’m bound to keep things to myself right now. Sometimes a thing is not meant to be shared.
I have at 3 of these lingering things, that seem huge to me and yet I know I am simply to let go of all of it and wait on God. Waiting is never easy for anyone in any situation. For me these are all sort of gut wrenchers. I know they shouldn’t be. I know that God will resolve all of them in His perfect way, but I can’t help wishing that I simply had a clue about each one of them.
In each case, I want to do the right thing, I really, really do and I know that the right thing isn’t necessarily what I want it to be.
I’m a chatter sort of person. The more I can talk about something, the better I feel about it. Chatter is how I sort something out and begin to make sense of it.
Right now, that’s just not an option. I have several things lingering in the background that I want to just talk to death to every possible person I meet, so that I can begin to work them out in my mind and yet I’m bound to keep things to myself right now. Sometimes a thing is not meant to be shared.
I have at 3 of these lingering things, that seem huge to me and yet I know I am simply to let go of all of it and wait on God. Waiting is never easy for anyone in any situation. For me these are all sort of gut wrenchers. I know they shouldn’t be. I know that God will resolve all of them in His perfect way, but I can’t help wishing that I simply had a clue about each one of them.
In each case, I want to do the right thing, I really, really do and I know that the right thing isn’t necessarily what I want it to be.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
The Path
My days and nights with the brood have been nothing short of exhausting lately. Persistance is key. Having a little bit of a thick skin doesn't hurt either.
The birthday season is fast approaching my home and so today I'll be making one of my annual shopping frenzy trips to the local cheap mart. The goal is to supply various assorted sports equipment--later to be lost, cool clothing--to be left on the floor, declared uncool, or simply destroyed by boy wear, an assortment of plastic junk waiting to become foot schrapnel--I mean, action figures, and probably a few books or games to make me feel like I've done somthing besides burn money and harm my kids.
They enjoy getting the junk, enjoy opening up the packages, and usually play with the stuff for quite a while before it just melts into the pile of left over stuff hanging around in the play room and under the bed. With all my labels, though, and trying, really trying, to be a good parent, I often feel some guilt about all the presents. It's really have the same issues as everyone else. The stuff is going to break, it costs too much money. Clearly it's not educational. They already have more junk than a child could ever need.
Sometimes, I have to fess up to just not being super mom, and admit that we're not the super family. We aren't ultra put on a pedistal Christian home school material.
Don't missunderstand. We're a great family, in my humble opinion. In fact one of the greatest compliments I've ever gotten was from a friends daughter after she spent some time with us. She told her mom that we were fun and we laughed a lot. What she probably meant was, "Wow, those people are really loud and scarry! Don't leave me there again!" But I took it mean, that we aren't doing too many things wrong.
We're like everyone else. We're trying our best to do what's right by each child we've been given. Sometimes, it's easy and clear what to do. Often times it's like walking a country road on foot in the fog at night. You know that one foot in front of the other will move you forward and that the dawn will bring light.
Carry on, carry on.
The birthday season is fast approaching my home and so today I'll be making one of my annual shopping frenzy trips to the local cheap mart. The goal is to supply various assorted sports equipment--later to be lost, cool clothing--to be left on the floor, declared uncool, or simply destroyed by boy wear, an assortment of plastic junk waiting to become foot schrapnel--I mean, action figures, and probably a few books or games to make me feel like I've done somthing besides burn money and harm my kids.
They enjoy getting the junk, enjoy opening up the packages, and usually play with the stuff for quite a while before it just melts into the pile of left over stuff hanging around in the play room and under the bed. With all my labels, though, and trying, really trying, to be a good parent, I often feel some guilt about all the presents. It's really have the same issues as everyone else. The stuff is going to break, it costs too much money. Clearly it's not educational. They already have more junk than a child could ever need.
Sometimes, I have to fess up to just not being super mom, and admit that we're not the super family. We aren't ultra put on a pedistal Christian home school material.
Don't missunderstand. We're a great family, in my humble opinion. In fact one of the greatest compliments I've ever gotten was from a friends daughter after she spent some time with us. She told her mom that we were fun and we laughed a lot. What she probably meant was, "Wow, those people are really loud and scarry! Don't leave me there again!" But I took it mean, that we aren't doing too many things wrong.
We're like everyone else. We're trying our best to do what's right by each child we've been given. Sometimes, it's easy and clear what to do. Often times it's like walking a country road on foot in the fog at night. You know that one foot in front of the other will move you forward and that the dawn will bring light.
Carry on, carry on.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
The View From Here
24 hours can do a lot for a person.
I got a sound sleep, and some needed reassurance.
I had two "professionals" in the land of children say to me, you're doing ok. Don't sweat the stuff that's going on. You're doing your best, seeking out the care they need, and they're happy and safe. Keep it up. What the little's are doing is perfectly normal for them.
It brings me back around to what I knew all along. The most important part of being a parent is showing up and loving hard. A parent's job is all day, all night, every day and every night until one party leaves this earth. The second part is love them hard. When a child is just come into the world it seems so easy to think you'll always be able to see the best in them and it will always be an easy, almost unthinkable thing to fully love your child. Somewhere along the way, they grow, you find out their quirks and issues, you worry and fear and suddenly, love gets hard. Maybe the love part doesn't get hard, but the people part does. Sometimes it's hard to love a person when they're doing certain things. Sometimes some people are just hard to love. The thing is, a parent gets beyond all that noise and keeps on loving.
A parent advocates and does what it takes to get their child what they need. Not indulging them and giving them everything they want, but simply making sure that they get the things, services, etc. that they need. A parent makes sure there are plenty of opportunities for the child to learn and grow and one day, be grown. There are after all, a lot of adults, who aren't grown.
So, anyway, a day makes a difference. Here's looking at a month of case workers, therapists, doctors, specialists, birth parents, legal aides, lesson, sports, Bible study groups and paperwork. And you know what, for a change it looks pretty good.
I got a sound sleep, and some needed reassurance.
I had two "professionals" in the land of children say to me, you're doing ok. Don't sweat the stuff that's going on. You're doing your best, seeking out the care they need, and they're happy and safe. Keep it up. What the little's are doing is perfectly normal for them.
It brings me back around to what I knew all along. The most important part of being a parent is showing up and loving hard. A parent's job is all day, all night, every day and every night until one party leaves this earth. The second part is love them hard. When a child is just come into the world it seems so easy to think you'll always be able to see the best in them and it will always be an easy, almost unthinkable thing to fully love your child. Somewhere along the way, they grow, you find out their quirks and issues, you worry and fear and suddenly, love gets hard. Maybe the love part doesn't get hard, but the people part does. Sometimes it's hard to love a person when they're doing certain things. Sometimes some people are just hard to love. The thing is, a parent gets beyond all that noise and keeps on loving.
A parent advocates and does what it takes to get their child what they need. Not indulging them and giving them everything they want, but simply making sure that they get the things, services, etc. that they need. A parent makes sure there are plenty of opportunities for the child to learn and grow and one day, be grown. There are after all, a lot of adults, who aren't grown.
So, anyway, a day makes a difference. Here's looking at a month of case workers, therapists, doctors, specialists, birth parents, legal aides, lesson, sports, Bible study groups and paperwork. And you know what, for a change it looks pretty good.
Monday, May 12, 2008
These Are The Days
The days that we simply try to endure.
There are phases in life, ups and downs, easy and hard. This is simply a hard season in our home.
These are the days that make me tired and make my mind wander.
I wonder what it would be like to be a weaker person, would God then ask less of me?
I know that I will only be given what I can stand up under, what I can endure, and yet, I marvel at His faith in me.
These are the days that make me want to say, enough, I quit, I give in, you win. I can't though, it would be the wrong party winning.
So, I stop. I pray. I will the next step, the next action, the next smile at well meaning aquaintences.
I stay up late, too late. I get up with the first birds of the morning. I worry and second guess.
I take my headaches and ground down teeth to my bed and hope for dreamless sleep.
There are phases in life, ups and downs, easy and hard. This is simply a hard season in our home.
These are the days that make me tired and make my mind wander.
I wonder what it would be like to be a weaker person, would God then ask less of me?
I know that I will only be given what I can stand up under, what I can endure, and yet, I marvel at His faith in me.
These are the days that make me want to say, enough, I quit, I give in, you win. I can't though, it would be the wrong party winning.
So, I stop. I pray. I will the next step, the next action, the next smile at well meaning aquaintences.
I stay up late, too late. I get up with the first birds of the morning. I worry and second guess.
I take my headaches and ground down teeth to my bed and hope for dreamless sleep.
Friday, May 9, 2008
people
A long time ago I fancied that I could read people by looking at them, by watching them. It was as if I took enough care and watched them closely enough, I could know things about them.
Perhaps it was a sort of obsessive thing. I like to think of it as a writerly thing. That I am just an intense observer. That I don't "know" things about people, but I can make pretty good guesses.
In a way, I take them into a world in my head and play them through scene after scene to judge which would be the most authentic reactions for them in the different scenes. Then there are the reactions I would want them to have if I were the one in control.
When I write, I am the one in control. I get to play it forward and back until the tension in each scene is just perfect.
The glitch is reality. Sometimes I hesitate in real life because of this weird personality quirk I possess. There are times when I wait to take action in a situation because I am simply not sure if what I see is really real, or just one of my scene plays being more lively than it should.
Couple this with my need for personal relationships, and it can be disaster. Many of my people needs are met easily by having a rather large group of somewhat close aquaintances. I get a good amount of chating time in my daily adventures and that satisfies a great deal of my need.
There is a lingering people need though, that I have a hard time placing a finger on or putting words to. It is captured in the eyes. We have small talk all the time, quite plesant chatter, in fact. But yet, almost daily I see a look, I feel a hesitation in the conversation. It has made me pause and wonder. Is it real? Is it there? Have I imagined this moment and made this person more than they are? Is there really something else they want to say to me and what makes them hesitate? If I ask what it is, or approach this risk, will I be the one to look the fool? Will I just be hanging myself out as a nut? But what if I wait, and it never happens? What if they are waiting for me to be the brave one and say the thing or take the risk?
The land of what if can be utterly paralyzing.
Perhaps it was a sort of obsessive thing. I like to think of it as a writerly thing. That I am just an intense observer. That I don't "know" things about people, but I can make pretty good guesses.
In a way, I take them into a world in my head and play them through scene after scene to judge which would be the most authentic reactions for them in the different scenes. Then there are the reactions I would want them to have if I were the one in control.
When I write, I am the one in control. I get to play it forward and back until the tension in each scene is just perfect.
The glitch is reality. Sometimes I hesitate in real life because of this weird personality quirk I possess. There are times when I wait to take action in a situation because I am simply not sure if what I see is really real, or just one of my scene plays being more lively than it should.
Couple this with my need for personal relationships, and it can be disaster. Many of my people needs are met easily by having a rather large group of somewhat close aquaintances. I get a good amount of chating time in my daily adventures and that satisfies a great deal of my need.
There is a lingering people need though, that I have a hard time placing a finger on or putting words to. It is captured in the eyes. We have small talk all the time, quite plesant chatter, in fact. But yet, almost daily I see a look, I feel a hesitation in the conversation. It has made me pause and wonder. Is it real? Is it there? Have I imagined this moment and made this person more than they are? Is there really something else they want to say to me and what makes them hesitate? If I ask what it is, or approach this risk, will I be the one to look the fool? Will I just be hanging myself out as a nut? But what if I wait, and it never happens? What if they are waiting for me to be the brave one and say the thing or take the risk?
The land of what if can be utterly paralyzing.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Wednesday, May 7, 2008
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
What Do You See?
What do you see when you watch the nightly news or read the paper? What do you see when you are "forced" to drive through the inner city or some other area of town you think is dangereous or scarry?
Do you see what I see?
I bet not. I see the utter colapse of life. I see people failing each other for all sorts of reasons. I see so much more than I alone can ever impact.
May is National Foster Care Month.
Foster Care is a strange phenomenon. It is a thing created by good intentions and filled with people who mean well and try hard.
The task at hand is to save kids. Sometimes it's simple. Physically save them from a death born of torture. Sometimes it's just to keep them from being tortured. Often times, it is a thing so much more complicated. Verbal and emotional abuse is a thing not easily identified or measured. Who gets to be the deciding judge of what is ok and what is not? Who gets to say why a raised voice in one family setting is acceptable and in another is abuse?
It's a fine line drawn in dust my friends.
Those people with the big hearts and good intentions are ill equiped to do this task. They have little for tools at their disposal. A foster family gets just a few hundred dollars a month to provide everything for the foster child. Often the foster kids get WIC checks, but let me tell you, it's less help than you would think if you've never experienced it. The other main tool they have to use is words.
Yeah, that's what I said. Words. A case worker spends most of their time talking. Talking to the birth parents, to the care givers, to the child, to the DA, the judge, the GAL, to any therapy option that might even be a chance for the child and the list goes on and on and on.
All that futile talking takes a toll. Case workers burn out fast. The turnover is high.
By June, our Little Miss will have had 4 different case workers in 16 months. I can't even begin to number how many people further out in the case have switched over since the start.
Currently more than 513,000 children in America are in foster care. Nearly half of these kids are over 10. Each year more than 20,000 young adults "age out" of foster care. You've seen the TV stories of these kids. They are 18 and alone. They have no place to land, no place to call home. Even if they are an exception and have a job or are in college, they have no place to spend a holiday and no one to spend it with. Most often they have no diploma or GED, no credit, no skills to get or keep a job, no ability to find a place to live or open a checking account. At 18 they become homeless and hopeless. You can guess what happens to most of them, drugs, prostitution, jail, and death are just a few.
If nothing changes in the foster system, by the year 2020 we will see:
14 million confirmed cases of child abuse and neglect
22,500 children will die of abuse or neglect before their 5th birthday
9,000,000+ kids will have first hand experience with the foster care system
300,000+ kids will have "aged out" and be faltering or failing in society
99,000 "aged out" foster kids will be homeless
* Information gathered from Waukesha County Health & Human Services
Do you see what I see?
I bet not. I see the utter colapse of life. I see people failing each other for all sorts of reasons. I see so much more than I alone can ever impact.
May is National Foster Care Month.
Foster Care is a strange phenomenon. It is a thing created by good intentions and filled with people who mean well and try hard.
The task at hand is to save kids. Sometimes it's simple. Physically save them from a death born of torture. Sometimes it's just to keep them from being tortured. Often times, it is a thing so much more complicated. Verbal and emotional abuse is a thing not easily identified or measured. Who gets to be the deciding judge of what is ok and what is not? Who gets to say why a raised voice in one family setting is acceptable and in another is abuse?
It's a fine line drawn in dust my friends.
Those people with the big hearts and good intentions are ill equiped to do this task. They have little for tools at their disposal. A foster family gets just a few hundred dollars a month to provide everything for the foster child. Often the foster kids get WIC checks, but let me tell you, it's less help than you would think if you've never experienced it. The other main tool they have to use is words.
Yeah, that's what I said. Words. A case worker spends most of their time talking. Talking to the birth parents, to the care givers, to the child, to the DA, the judge, the GAL, to any therapy option that might even be a chance for the child and the list goes on and on and on.
All that futile talking takes a toll. Case workers burn out fast. The turnover is high.
By June, our Little Miss will have had 4 different case workers in 16 months. I can't even begin to number how many people further out in the case have switched over since the start.
Currently more than 513,000 children in America are in foster care. Nearly half of these kids are over 10. Each year more than 20,000 young adults "age out" of foster care. You've seen the TV stories of these kids. They are 18 and alone. They have no place to land, no place to call home. Even if they are an exception and have a job or are in college, they have no place to spend a holiday and no one to spend it with. Most often they have no diploma or GED, no credit, no skills to get or keep a job, no ability to find a place to live or open a checking account. At 18 they become homeless and hopeless. You can guess what happens to most of them, drugs, prostitution, jail, and death are just a few.
If nothing changes in the foster system, by the year 2020 we will see:
14 million confirmed cases of child abuse and neglect
22,500 children will die of abuse or neglect before their 5th birthday
9,000,000+ kids will have first hand experience with the foster care system
300,000+ kids will have "aged out" and be faltering or failing in society
99,000 "aged out" foster kids will be homeless
* Information gathered from Waukesha County Health & Human Services
Monday, May 5, 2008
Weekend Message
Trust and wait.
That was it. That simple. That clear.
And just in case I wasn't listening the first time, it was repeated again and again throughout the weekend.
So what will happen? I don't know. To a certain degree, I don't care, as long as it isn't ME making the choices and decisions for all the wrong reasons.
Right now in life, I have what feels like a million what if's lying before me. It also feels like any of the outcomes or combinations of outcomes would be a great and tremendous blessing. None will be without their measure of sorrow, and yet surly all will bring good.
I return now, to that place of expectant waiting.
That was it. That simple. That clear.
And just in case I wasn't listening the first time, it was repeated again and again throughout the weekend.
So what will happen? I don't know. To a certain degree, I don't care, as long as it isn't ME making the choices and decisions for all the wrong reasons.
Right now in life, I have what feels like a million what if's lying before me. It also feels like any of the outcomes or combinations of outcomes would be a great and tremendous blessing. None will be without their measure of sorrow, and yet surly all will bring good.
I return now, to that place of expectant waiting.
Saturday, May 3, 2008
God Spoke
A few days ago I was writing about the sense of unease I have been experiencing and how I have been waiting. I have been waiting for something that I can't even identify or give words to. It is something out there like a fog clouding my vision, leaving me uncertain of where I am standing, and yet I am at peace knowing that the faint glow ahead of me is indeed Light.
Last night God walked right into the room and made His presence known to The Mr. and I. He left us wondering with open mouths, with a sense of surprise and filling us with gentle laughter. It was nothing more than a hint, a subtle nod. A soothing, yes, my child, you've been heard. I've not forgotten or ignored you. I have seen your obedience in spite of your fears. Continue to say yes to Me. Answer when I call. Wait on My time.
And so, now I am tucking this hint into my heart, to treasure and wonder at. I will hold it there and wait and pray. I will cling to it, knowing fully that this will be yet another part in my story, my testimony to the Truth of my Lord.
I recognize yet again how God knows me well, perfectly in fact. He sent my family on a journey to grow and learn so that we would be ready for the next thing.
I wish I could make this all seem normal to you. I wish I could make it seem both dramatic and common-place at the same time. For it was a moment of everything and nothing all at once.
Last night God walked right into the room and made His presence known to The Mr. and I. He left us wondering with open mouths, with a sense of surprise and filling us with gentle laughter. It was nothing more than a hint, a subtle nod. A soothing, yes, my child, you've been heard. I've not forgotten or ignored you. I have seen your obedience in spite of your fears. Continue to say yes to Me. Answer when I call. Wait on My time.
And so, now I am tucking this hint into my heart, to treasure and wonder at. I will hold it there and wait and pray. I will cling to it, knowing fully that this will be yet another part in my story, my testimony to the Truth of my Lord.
I recognize yet again how God knows me well, perfectly in fact. He sent my family on a journey to grow and learn so that we would be ready for the next thing.
I wish I could make this all seem normal to you. I wish I could make it seem both dramatic and common-place at the same time. For it was a moment of everything and nothing all at once.
Friday, May 2, 2008
Let Me Depress You...
Or perhaps, challenge you.
You already know I have this thing about kids being overlooked in society. You know I think way too many people look at their kids like some sort of living accessory or super intelligent pet. You know I have issues.
So here's the take away from the 10:PM news last night.
Gas prices are up. Duh. Food prices are up. Double duh. Food banks are getting empty. You knew it was going to happen.
Now, did you know this? In Wisconsin, the food banks feed around 86,000 kids each year. Yes, I said kids. That's roughly enough to fill Miller Park twice.
That's a lot of kids without a breakfast, lunch and dinner. These aren't kids looking for chips and soda for snacks 3 times a day. These are the kids who don't know it's normal to eat 2-3 meals a day. These are the kids that don't know a meal should have a variety of foods, like a protein, a carb and fruits or veggies. These are the kids not having glasses of milk or juice. They aren't eating fresh fruit or veggies. They most likely aren't eating any fruits or veggies.
86,000 kids. 86,000 kids with empty bellies. 86,000 kids going to bed, not with hopes and dreams, but with uncertainty and hunger pains.
Do you know what they will become? 86,000 young adults without trust. We're letting down the future adults.
Yes, I know. There are adults who are responsible for these kids. They should be getting jobs and taking care of their own. Yes, to an extent, you're right. But, haven't you ever needed help? Haven't you ever found yourself stretching the money as far as it could go? No, I don't mean so that you could still manage to grab a beer with the pals one weekend a month or get a manicure or whatever is your "thing". What I mean is, have you ever found yourself searching the house for all the loose change and praying it would be enough to buy one gallon of milk for the kids?
Here's my challenge to you. Could you, maybe for just one month, or a single week even, give something up? Could your family go without it's chips and soda and spend that $10 on tuna and peanut butter for some other kid somewhere? That other kid could be your kids classmate, friend or future spouse. Maybe you're not a chips and pop sort of family, I still bet there is something in your family's life you could give up for a single week or month and pass it along.
You already know I have this thing about kids being overlooked in society. You know I think way too many people look at their kids like some sort of living accessory or super intelligent pet. You know I have issues.
So here's the take away from the 10:PM news last night.
Gas prices are up. Duh. Food prices are up. Double duh. Food banks are getting empty. You knew it was going to happen.
Now, did you know this? In Wisconsin, the food banks feed around 86,000 kids each year. Yes, I said kids. That's roughly enough to fill Miller Park twice.
That's a lot of kids without a breakfast, lunch and dinner. These aren't kids looking for chips and soda for snacks 3 times a day. These are the kids who don't know it's normal to eat 2-3 meals a day. These are the kids that don't know a meal should have a variety of foods, like a protein, a carb and fruits or veggies. These are the kids not having glasses of milk or juice. They aren't eating fresh fruit or veggies. They most likely aren't eating any fruits or veggies.
86,000 kids. 86,000 kids with empty bellies. 86,000 kids going to bed, not with hopes and dreams, but with uncertainty and hunger pains.
Do you know what they will become? 86,000 young adults without trust. We're letting down the future adults.
Yes, I know. There are adults who are responsible for these kids. They should be getting jobs and taking care of their own. Yes, to an extent, you're right. But, haven't you ever needed help? Haven't you ever found yourself stretching the money as far as it could go? No, I don't mean so that you could still manage to grab a beer with the pals one weekend a month or get a manicure or whatever is your "thing". What I mean is, have you ever found yourself searching the house for all the loose change and praying it would be enough to buy one gallon of milk for the kids?
Here's my challenge to you. Could you, maybe for just one month, or a single week even, give something up? Could your family go without it's chips and soda and spend that $10 on tuna and peanut butter for some other kid somewhere? That other kid could be your kids classmate, friend or future spouse. Maybe you're not a chips and pop sort of family, I still bet there is something in your family's life you could give up for a single week or month and pass it along.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
Good Intentions
I meant to share a poem each and every day this past month. I really did plan to. Along the way I discovered something about myself. I'm a little odd. I don't like the way poetry looks on the computer screen. There is just something screamingly wrong with it inside of me. It seems that for me the only acceptable form of poetry is verbal or on actual paper.
So, sorry.
Now, it's May. National Poetry Month has given way to National Foster Care Month. Brace yourselves. It's not as if I don't write about it often enough anyhow, but now I have an excuse of sorts.
Yesterday was crafting chaos around here. They broke out the water colors and markers. Let me just say there were a lot of towels used for the spills and lots of washing up to be done after. The Little Miss enjoyed ever second of it, but also came out of the episode looking like a living Picaso. I'm sure you can imagine it.
My mind has been clouded these past few days. Some of it was the blinding head ache I had. Oh, how I love spring.
Some of it is just that sense of being in deep communication with the Lord and waiting on Him to sort some things out for me. There are things in my present that make me ache and long for relief and comfort, and yet it seems as though I must continue to endure and wait. I hear the Lord and yet it is unclear. It is a gentle comfort, but not an answer to my pleas. In a way I am content. I know that His plan is the right one. I know that His design is something I rarely get even a glimpse of. I know that he is hearing me. It is hard to wait in expectation. It is hard to wait, hard to long for something and hope that my "want" is in fact something more than my own, created alone by my selfishness.
I love what God has done in my life and my families life since moving us here, far away from our home church and what we clung to fiercely as our life line. I love being used so fully by the Lord. At the same time though, I feel as though I've been dropped off out in the desert. I long deeply for some of the things I no longer have surrounding me.
I know, I know, clear as mud. Perhaps this foggy clarity is a life theme.
So, sorry.
Now, it's May. National Poetry Month has given way to National Foster Care Month. Brace yourselves. It's not as if I don't write about it often enough anyhow, but now I have an excuse of sorts.
Yesterday was crafting chaos around here. They broke out the water colors and markers. Let me just say there were a lot of towels used for the spills and lots of washing up to be done after. The Little Miss enjoyed ever second of it, but also came out of the episode looking like a living Picaso. I'm sure you can imagine it.
My mind has been clouded these past few days. Some of it was the blinding head ache I had. Oh, how I love spring.
Some of it is just that sense of being in deep communication with the Lord and waiting on Him to sort some things out for me. There are things in my present that make me ache and long for relief and comfort, and yet it seems as though I must continue to endure and wait. I hear the Lord and yet it is unclear. It is a gentle comfort, but not an answer to my pleas. In a way I am content. I know that His plan is the right one. I know that His design is something I rarely get even a glimpse of. I know that he is hearing me. It is hard to wait in expectation. It is hard to wait, hard to long for something and hope that my "want" is in fact something more than my own, created alone by my selfishness.
I love what God has done in my life and my families life since moving us here, far away from our home church and what we clung to fiercely as our life line. I love being used so fully by the Lord. At the same time though, I feel as though I've been dropped off out in the desert. I long deeply for some of the things I no longer have surrounding me.
I know, I know, clear as mud. Perhaps this foggy clarity is a life theme.
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