“Let your yes mean yes and your no mean no…”

heiroglyphics

Blogging is interesting. Like I had said before, it is sort of like leaving a diary open on a table, and random strangers stopping by to read a page or two. When you use different blogging platforms, they offer you differing types of feedback. I actually know the exact number of people who follow this blog, and how many actually read each post on it. Sometimes it is just 1 or 2 people. And often one of them is me, because I go out and come in through a different portal, so I can see how it looks to someone stopping by to read a page or two. I can thereby make corrections or edits, so the viewing is easier.

But mostly, I come back to my blog to chat, really, and rant about things that bother me, or in some cases, things that please me. Today I am dealing with the continued fallout from a stressful weekend, where we were on edge worrying over the health of my mother-in-law, who had taken ill quite suddenly. She is not healthy yet, but at least they are making progress. (Please pray for her continued health and recovery). It is amazing to me how quickly our lives can turn. “On a dime,” as they say. We saw some interesting things this weekend, and spent some time with family and some good friends. All in all, it was a good way for us to end the week, and for my husband to prepare to travel today (although his 6:30am flight was cancelled and rescheduled until 3:00pm because of weather)! We spent our Sunday evening after Mass, enjoying our books until we fell asleep.

wordsmattertoothers

Most of us who put pen to paper, so to speak, understand that what we put out there is forever the world’s. What we write can someday matter, a lot, to someone who needs to read those words, right then. That particular pairing, I leave to God. If what I go through and how my mind works can somehow touch others, that is a blessing. I love reading so very much, and read constantly. But I don’t think I am a fictional writer. I just write what I am thinking about. “Musings of a mom”…like the title of my blog says.

Most of my time is pondering the eternal truths laid before us through lifetimes of days and moments, and through the internalization of the Word of God in our lives; our faith. Sometimes I veer over into politics, but I try to stay away. It is just too inflammatory. Faith can be, too, and I know that, but my faith is everything to me, and so I share that more readily.

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And words can sting, but they can also heal. Recently, there was an instance where perhaps too many words were used, and some people felt betrayed. Words can betray a confidence, or spill a secret we thought was safe. Words can slice through our confidence with one phrase. And words can give us the confidence we need to accomplish the impossible. Words are precious and priceless and sacred. Too many people abuse words. To someone who treasures them, it hurts so much when words are used to destroy and harm, and pull down others, instead of building and creating and reassuring.

Lyrics in songs can be horrific. It’s so funny because from one generation to the next, words become (and can mean) something else. Words used in common language today would have shocked my grandmother. My great-grandmother would have had a coronary. But I am now supposed to be non-plussed with some of the vocabulary choices used regularly by teens and adults. (Words I tried once upon a time, but discovered that soap was not something I enjoyed tasting). I inwardly cringe and am offended, but try to not show it. But I am. The “March on DC” used words and images that 30 years ago would have been labeled pornography and the offenders would have been arrested. Movies that are now rated R should be rated X and labeled pornography (think 50 Shades). Musical lyrics should have those warning labels all over them, but rarely do.

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This weekend our deacon gave an insightful homily about words. The Scripture reading was Matthew 5:37 – “Let your yes mean yes and your no mean no. Anything more is from the evil one.” And it got me thinking about words. There are so very many ways to say things. But I truly prefer simple and direct. Why beat around the bush and use prose like Shakespeare, when using small sentences like Dr. Suess will suffice? Especially if the meaning is still as clear? And truth is far more simple. When we speak truth, we don’t have to remember how we say things, because truth never changes. Eternal truths are the same. They never change. Presentation may change (i.e. Protestant, Catholic, etc) but the truth there is the same.

Rhetoric is the persuasive use of speaking or writing with the use of figures of speech and other devices meant to sway a reader. And sometimes, to me, that is what my blogging is about, I suppose. However, I think difference is highly underrated. I appreciate a differing viewpoint and enjoy learning about the whys and wherefores the speaker came to them. Perhaps I can be persuaded to change my view! It happened when I became Catholic, after having been raised Protestant. Those eternal truths reached out for me and took hold, and within the arms of Holy Mother Church, I had my moment with God, with Jesus, and I knew I was home. So words and truths can be effective and life changing. They can also effect our eternity.

eternity

And so today I pondered words and how they effect our lives in the here and now, but also how they can last through eternity. I would like to challenge myself and any others who actually read this, to think about each word they utter. Do we want that word to be held for eternity? Was it said in love? Was it said to defame or harm others? Was it said to raise up another and buttress them in times of need? Was it said, seeking redemption from He who created eternity? Was that word edifying for you and those around you? God knows your heart and He knows how we truly feel. Sometimes words are all we have to ensure there is a safe wall around us, keeping others away. And sometimes words are what we use to bring others to us, out of our loneliness and neediness. Words have such unlimited power. We need to be careful and respect each word we utter, letting our “yes mean yes and our no mean no.”

wordsaresacred

“…handle what we are given…”

miniature-schnauzer-3

Today has been a rough day. Today I had to take two dogs to the groomers. The one pictured above is Chet. He is 15 years old now. He is stubborn. He runs away. He has dementia. Today he took off, in falling snow, running away from me. I was finally able to step on his dragging lead and stop him…in snow up to my knees. I was not a happy mamma. And then he planted his behind and refused to move. So I dragged his butt so far, until he was under the snow and gave up and walked. He had yanked so hard against me, he lifted two of my fingernails. Ugh. I wasn’t going to pick him up, because he was soaking wet. I had on ankle boots and leggings – the snow was up to my knees, still falling, and I was soaked. Our other dog (God bless her) was running around, having a ball. She was teasing Chet and me, loving being in the snow, having her leash on, knowing she was going for a ride. She is over 10, but was acting like a puppy. Poca is our sweetheart. She is such a “velcro” dog – she wants to be with you and would never run away. (That’s her below). Not like Mr. Chet – Mr. Independent; Mr. Stubborn; Mr. Goes-His-Own-Way. He’s been that way since we got him at 6-weeks old. Runs away the first chance he gets. He’s done it so many times and it’s always at the most inconvenient time. Like today. I tried not to be too mad, because he has doggie dementia and a bad hip, but he sure seemed fine as I was trying to corral him today!

poca

So we get to the groomer’s, after slipping and sliding through town. I go to get the dogs out of the back seat and notice that Mr. Chet had not moved, and he had pooped in my new car. He pooped in my car. I was beyond frustrated. And wet. The groomer, bless her, had cleaner for me, so I could clean up the mess and remove the odor. In my new car. Ugh. You’d think it was a Monday. Ha-Ha. But no, just a snowy, cold day in Alaska!

whatwecanhandle

And so I called my husband. And he laughed. And and it made me laugh. And then we spoke about his mom, who is ill and was rushed to the hospital early this morning. My anger dissipated in my concern for her, and for her children, and our children. She has been an integral part of our lives for so long, that in perspective, my morning was stupid to worry about, let alone get so angry about. (Although dog poop in my car is something I can get angry about, right???).

I have been thinking so much about how invested in this world I have become. There are memes galore about wasting our time online. About forging relationships that are not real, but seem to be, because we are not out and about, investing in personal relationships. Even if you are out in the world, working every day, how well do you invest in your co-workers and people you see every day? I saw a sign a preschool posted, asking parents who were picking up their kids, to not have their phones with them. And it hit me. We all grab our phones, looking at the latest post or text, over being present to the people we are with. Some people are creating phone “stations” where guests and family alike are asked to deposit their phones when they walk in their homes. I am leaning that way.

I have been influenced by the sites I have allowed in my life and the things I give great importance to. Each day, I get my coffee and eagerly await the morning press briefing from the White House. Why is that? I don’t even check the weather! LOL! I check statuses and notices on Facebook and voila! Two hours have passed. That is insane. I read news bits after news bits. I see videos and sound bites. Are they making me a better person? Are they edifying my life? Are they helping me to achieve my daily and lifetime goals?

“Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be obvious to everyone. The Lord is near. Be anxious for nothing, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think on these things. Whatever you have learned and received and heard from me, and seen in me, put these things into practice. And the God of peace will be with you.” Philippians 4: 4-9

One of the things I believe is a catalyst to the further downfall of our society are “reality shows.” I know so many people who cannot get enough. Who tape them and binge watch  them for hours on end. Who comment on reality star’s Facebook pages like they are personal friends. Who share their status’ like it is their own information or status. Who somehow relate and feel attached to these people. Most of us could never emulate the life styles of these mega-rich stars who are rich just because they are famous…and famous because they are rich. It’s so weird. I have some friends who discuss actors and actresses who appear on soap operas and care about who plays the role and who they are replacing and it is a life-or-death event. I just don’t get that. But I see it influencing people around me. I see people forming relationships with famous people, or people they have met online on some forum, or gaming site, and feel like (and treat it like) it is a real relationship. And when you look around, they don’t have very many actual friends they do things with. Or friends they call and chat up about life. Or friends they go to the movies or dinner with. No; their friends are all online.

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Lent is fast approaching and I am attempting to do something for myself that is so very difficult. I am going to attempt a Facebook fast. I am already getting rid of groups and news in my feed. I have blocked people who make me worse, and not the best I can be. I am endeavoring to listen to better things than what I have. I love the local Christian Radio station here called Air1. They have such great music. I am going to try to listen to that more. I am trying to adjust my online experience to one that makes me a better person. I need to stop being a slave to automation. I need to be more present to my home, taking care of it and my family, and I need to read more and watch less. We all get to a point where we realize we are sinking and not being the person we could be and that is one of those “man in the mirror moments.”

I’m gonna make a change, for once in my life
It’s gonna feel real good, gonna make a difference
Gonna make it right…

As I turn up the collar on my favorite winter coat
This wind is blowin’ my mind
I see the kids in the street, with not enough to eat
Who am I, to be blind? Pretending not to see their needs
A summer’s disregard, a broken bottle top
And a one man’s soul
They follow each other on the wind ya’ know
’Cause they got nowhere to go
That’s why I want you to know

I’m starting with the man in the mirror
I’m asking him to change his ways
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
(If you wanna make the world a better place)
Take a look at yourself, and then make a change
(Take a look at yourself, and then make a change)
(Na na na, na na na, na na, na nah)

I’ve been a victim of a selfish kind of love
It’s time that I realize
That there are some with no home, not a nickel
to loan
Could it be really me, pretending that they’re
not alone?

A willow deeply scarred, somebody’s broken heart
And a washed-out dream
(Washed-out dream)
They follow the pattern on the wind, ya’ see
’Cause they got no place to be
That’s why I’m starting with me
(Starting with me!)

I’m starting with the man in the mirror
(Ooh!)
I’m asking him to change his ways
(Ooh!)
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
(If you wanna make the world a better place)
Take a look at yourself and then make a change
(Take a look at yourself and then make a change)

Those are the lyrics to the song by Michael Jackson – the Man in the Mirror. And I really feel like right now, in our world, we could all take the time to reflect on the “man in the mirror” and “make that change.” I know I need to hit the brakes before I become someone I would not like to be friends with…someone who disregards what she knows is right, what is true, what is God’s plan for me, rather than the world’s. Satan is working overtime right now, trying to destroy us all. It’s the game plan and we witless idiots are following it like it’s tattooed on our foreheads.

“For the time will come when men will not tolerate sound doctrine, but with itching ears they will gather around themselves teachers to suit their own desires. So they will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.” 2Timothy 4:3-4

And so I would like to challenge those who read this to think about changing the direction in which they are going. Perhaps just change the way they are going, to the goal they have. My ultimate goal is to be in Paradise with the Creator of the Universe. Between then and now, my goal is to edify God and myself, by being the best person I can be, to those I bang into every day. And to that end, I need to make changes. Those changes are to what I see, watch, listen to, what I read, and those I associate with. Man, is it going to be tough. Because it is so much easier to be lazy and simple and follow the lemmings over the side of the cliff.

From Wikipedia, we find the history of the saying, “They way to hell is paved with good intentions. And it is this: The saying is thought to have originated with Saint Bernard of Clairvaux who wrote (c. 1150), “L’enfer est plein de bonnes volontés ou désirs” (hell is full of good wishes or desires). An earlier saying occurs in Virgil’s Aeneid: “facilis descensus Averno (the descent to hell is easy)”. In any respect, we know that it is far simpler to be bad/evil than it is to be good. I know being a Christian is far more challenging than being a hooligan, protesting and rioting in the streets. So we are called to transform ourselves from our lowest common denominator to our best selves. We are not guaranteed our next breath, as Fr. Justin Rose is fond of saying. And we are not. Little things get in our way and make us lesser beings…the peas in our mattress of life. We allow the setbacks to be stumbling blocks. We come to expect less of ourselves. And every, single year, the Church, in her Wisdom, gives us the period of Lent to reflect and reform ourselves. We have this 40+ day period to stop, reflect, and reform ourselves into the people God calls us to be. And I met the “man in the mirror” today and I know I need to change.

lentwords

“Action is worth nothing without prayer…”

Oh man oh man oh man….today I was assaulted with so many things that are near and dear to my heart. My mom, most of all. Alzheimer’s is just such a weird disease. It robs the person of their sense of self, in the moment. They have this vast memory for their distant past, but do not recall if they have eaten or showered recently. It robs you of meaningful conversations. I did not realize how dependent upon my mom I still am. I mean, I have been married for 32 years. I have not lived with my mom in about 40 years. We have lived in different states for much of my marriage. But the weird thing is that I have always known she was “there.” And that she was there for me. If I needed her, she would part the Red Sea herself to be at my side. My mom is tiny but she is a force of nature. A long time ago, many, many years ago, when we were living in the Los Angeles area, I liked a boy. His name was Armando. I was besotted. Totally. My first love. He used to walk me home and we’d sit on the front steps and just talk. I was 12 or 13. We never even held hands! Back then if you liked someone, you would dedicate songs to them on the local radio. When Armando dedicated a song to me, I thought I was in heaven! Well, this other girl in our school liked him, too. About this same time, I was playing flag football in our neighborhood with my brother and some buddies, and both of my knees “gave out on me.” Now remember, this was back when there were dress codes. Girls were not allowed to wear pants. Only dresses. And they had to be a specific length. No mini skits allowed. Anyway, I was taken to the hospital after our football game and was immediately casted on both legs, from my ankles to my hips. Both legs. Both of them. In dresses. At a desk or bench. Can you imagine? I was given a waiver to wear my gym shorts underneath. How nice of them. I also was on crutches. (Did I ever mention that I also had glasses and braces? Gee, not too much of a standout, was I??? And at the age when you want to melt into the scenery, too). As I made my way to the back gate, to meet my mom for a ride home after school one afternoon, this other girl decided she and her friends would beat me up. (Because I guess she would get rid of the competition and what guy doesn’t like you beating other girls up for him???). My mom arrived and saw a pile of girls beating someone. Not knowing I was at the bottom of that pile, my little 4’11” mom jumped in and started yanking girls off by their hair, yelling at them. At this time, a teacher came up to assist her. Imagine her surprise at finding me at the bottom, all bloody and bruised and in need of another hospital visit? The point is my mom had no idea it was me. She just knew someone needed help and she dove in. Armando and I didn’t have a chance after that. He was embarrassed and my parents had enough of LA and we put our house up for sale and moved to Orange County. (That same girl sent her little brother and his buddies after my brother a day or so later. It was just too much for my parents to deal with, so we moved away). But I will never forget my mom diving on top of all those girls (there were apparently 11 of them) and yanking them off a kid, not even knowing it was me, with her bare hands and her loud voice! She is a mama bear. And I love her for that. And I miss it. And now we are planning and arranging to have her come to live with us. It makes me sad. She will be here, but our conversations will be shallow. But I am banking on lots of hugs and her many comments, especially, “I love you, honey” from her. At least I will have HER. And I can’t think of a better way to show her how much I appreciate her having my back all these years, than by having hers, now, as she struggles with Alzheimer’s.

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And then today there was a post, chiding pro lifers who protest and pray outside abortion clinics. Basically, a man was saying that pro lifers need to come inside the clinics (like PP lets us inside them) and offer to support that mom, to pay her needs, and to adopt that child. Well, I responded, “Been there. Done that. A lot of us do. On a regular basis.” It made me angry. And the mother bear that I get from my mom came out in me. I desperately want to take in these babies. I would love to have them lined up in cribs in my home. But it is not feasible. (And I am now too old, per system requirements!!) We have done away with orphanages in this country. Instead, we have social services. Being a foster parent opened my eyes to all of that horrific-ness. I know social workers are over stressed with so many clients that they cannot do right by them all. I know the system is woefully inadequate. But I do not believe throwing money at it will help. We need to re-think how we do this. What’s wrong with lovingly operated orphanages where women could come to get prenatal care and even give birth, and then leave their babies so they could be adopted? I’d volunteer to help there. There has to be a way to reach more women who choose life for their children, but cannot parent them. I know so many families who would lovingly take a child to raise as their own. *sigh* Rant over.

nofoottoosmall

And today my hubby was subjected to so much turbulence on his flight to Juneau, he said it was the worst he’s ever experienced. I asked if he got sick and his reply was, “No. I was too scared. But I prayed a lot.” Isn’t that awesome? Me? I would have puked all over everyone. I barely fly in normal, clear weather. Yesterday, my oldest son showed me photos of where he’d been working, way up in the Arctic Circle. And then he showed me the  plane he flew home in. Absolutely not. Oh my word. So small. I need big, ginormous planes to feel safe. And my daughter-in-law’s parents are stuck and cannot get back up here, due to a storm hitting Seattle. My poor Seattle, to get 6″-12″ of snow in a day or two has closed them down. Their hilly streets are no match for that much snow. I do miss living there, but don’t miss the crazy driving on those hilly streets. One night I was at a stoplight in the pouring rain, so afraid of sliding down the hill as I tried to push my gas pedal, that in my head I kept hearing Cape Canaveral count downs…”Minus 60 seconds to launch…!!” I was that leaned back in my seat! I was shaking. Don’t miss that driving at all. And today we have sunshine but 10 degrees. Hoar frost all over everything, which makes the world sparkle. I love cold temps after the snow.

frostyroad

And a friend was complaining that today was being “such a Monday.” I totally get that. Like I said, I was assaulted by so many things that were hitting my heart today. And some days are like that. Things fly at you from so many directions. My granddaughters, who live in SoCal, apparently discovered permanent markers that were hidden away. While mom and dad slept they painted the house, and themselves. The photos I received this morning were hilarious. I know I should not laugh, but that particular son of mine caused me to have poison control on speed dial. Life was so eventful with that particular child. And so it made me laugh that his daughters are following in his footsteps, complete with that little glimmer in their eyes. And it was another little crisis coming at me, as I scrambled for recipes using my essential oils, to help them clean that up (it’s lemon oil to the rescue, in case that ever comes up!). One of my friends is dealing with ill health of one of their pets. Another just had twin granddaughters. His daughter was a surrogate for his other daughter, who has had breast cancer and is unable to have children. I little miracle that made me smile today. After saying that, I won’t even go into the Super Bowl and that miasma of issues! But just to say that Mondays can sometimes undo us. And it can be joyous and laughter-filled, or total chaos. Sometimes those are just Mondays. When our children were small and we lived fairly quietly and isolated on a farm off a dirt road, I realized that Mondays were awful because it was fallout from busy weekends when we went into town and mingled with people. Soccer matches, or Church events, grocery shopping or visiting with friends. It was outside our normal pattern, and the day afterwards the kids were “out of sorts” and it made my Mondays stink. Truly. And as we get older, we get into habits. My mom remembers to eat because she does the same thing every morning – she walks to the cafe for coffee and chatter. Otherwise, if she just sat in her apartment, she would just sit. And forget to eat. And when her routine is disrupted, it can take a day or two for her to feel herself again. We are all like that. And right now, in our world, our lives are disrupted. It is not only Monday, it is pretty much becoming daily. Chaos and noise, busy-ness and business. We were not meant for this much humanity, rubbing up against one another constantly.

commuters

Sometimes we need to unplug and just be quiet. No TV, no phones, no radios, no videos or video games. I can joyfully spend hours at home in silence, getting on with my day. My head can create enough turbulence in me just being me, and coming to terms with life. And with tensions so high in so many areas and for so many reasons, I like to dial it back a hair and just veg. Just be at home. Or perhaps coffee with a friend to chat. Or maybe stopping into a church for quiet prayer and reflection. “Holy Silence” is something I have learned along the way and I love embracing silence, being in communion with God. I can offer up all my toil for His use and His good ends. Offering our work for the Work of God and His Kingdom is a wonderfully humbling way to approach our days.

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“Silence is the door-keeper of the interior life.” (281) The Way by St. Josemaria Escriva

I love to think that doing little things, in silence, that benefit my family or my job, can be given to God and help to build my interior life with Him. On Mondays, when it all seems to go sideways, from the horrid commute (“Nothing’s wrong on the road today, it’s just Monday” – a quote on our local roadway page) to the craziness of our kids, and the failures we accomplish along the way…we can opt to reflect and to silently ask God for help and direction and peace.

“Action is worth nothing without prayer: prayer grows in value with sacrifice.” (81) The Way, by St. Josemaria Escriva.

“You say that you don’t know how to pray? Put yourself in the presence of God, and once you have said, ‘Lord, I don’t know how to pray!’ rest assured that you have begun to do so.” (90) The Way, by St. Josemaria Escriva

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“…He predestined us to adoption…”

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A few days ago, we attended a funeral for our friends’ child, who passed away last week. His story is a sad, but beautiful, one. And their celebration of his life, and how he had enlarged their hearts, is so emotional. The homily was beautiful.

“Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who has blessed us with every spiritual blessing in the heavenly places in Christ, just as He chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him. In love He predestined us to adoption as sons through Jesus Christ to Himself, according to the kind intention of His will, to the praise of the glory of His grace, which He freely bestowed on us in the Beloved. In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our trespasses, according to the riches of His grace which He lavished on us. In all wisdom and insight He made known to us the mystery of His will, according to His kind intention which He purposed in Him with a view to an administration suitable to the fullness of the times, that is, the summing up of all things in Christ, things in the heavens and things on the earth. In Him also we have obtained an inheritance, having been predestined according to His purpose who works all things after the counsel of His will, to the end that we who were the first to hope in Christ would be to the praise of His glory. In Him, you also, after listening to the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation—having also believed, you were sealed in Him with the Holy Spirit of promise, who is given as a pledge of our inheritance, with a view to the redemption of God’s own possession, to the praise of His glory.” (Ephesians 1:3-14)

The priest talked to us about being “adopted sons of God” and afterwards we chatted. He told me that historically, during Christ’s lifetime, an adoption was done for adults, in order to secure inheritance. If a couple had no children, they would adopt an adult and that adult would become their heir. The adopted child had, in fact, far more rights than a child born to the family. And an adopted child could not be “set aside,” as some parents do to their own “flesh and blood” child. And so in Scripture, calling someone your adopted son held far more meaning than just giving them your last name. They became your heirs…heirs to your kingdom. And that is what happened to each of us, when we were baptized into the family of God. We became His adopted sons and daughters, and He cannot set us aside. In the book of Isaiah – 49th chapter, where he says “Before I was born, the Lord called me.” (verse 1) he also says, “Can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne?  Though she may forget, I will not forget you!
See, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands; your walls are ever before me.” (verses 15 & 16) The writer is speaking about Israel and its people. However, we can easily see where the New Testament writers incorporate this sentiment into their preaching in the days of Christ, in order that we would know His deep love for us.

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In the concrete world in which we live, there is so much chatter about abortion. And as a woman who dearly wanted a large family, and has lost too many infants to miscarriage, I know the ache so many women feel who cannot bear their own child. I know that my heart is large enough to take other women’s babies, and love them as my own. I have fostered babies. And I have adopted outside of my race, but very much in my heart. My youngest child came to us within a few hours of being born. I even was able to breastfeed for a little while (until hunger took over supply!). That child is no different to the two I successfully birthed, or the seven I lost along the way. My heart knew there was room for someone who needed our family. And we readily took that baby, with no forethought or foreboding, just with excitement and love. We opened our hearts, our arms, and our lives and 18 years later, I can honestly say I am more in love than the moment I first laid eyes on that 4-hour-old newborn.

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The thought of losing a child pretty much drops me to my knees. Knowing someday, I will pass from this life, I am comforted by the fact that my sons are a loving family, even without their dad or me. They bonded ridiculously well and do not see color or difference in one another. Praise be to God. So all this hoopla about abortion and the right to choose really gets to me. Choose what? To kill your unborn child? There is no empirical evidence that in this day and age of scientific discovery and finesse, that the mother’s life would ever be in enough danger that you would have to kill her unborn child, in order for her to survive. Please, find me a case where that was true. A doctor who is trying to save a life will not take another one to do it. And there is no need. As for rape or incest, why kill the innocent product (child) and add to the pain? Why take a life because you were violated? I have had the pleasure of knowing a woman who was brutally raped. She became pregnant. And through the grace of God and a great family, she raised that baby. What an incredibly loved child it is, too. She does not cringe when gazing at her child; she beams with pride. That child is now a college graduate and is doing amazing things. And to think others told her to “get rid of it.” Thankfully, God also had her heart and her ear, and she chose life for that baby.

Adoption is hungered for all over this country. And adoptive families are somehow so very blessed in this life. We have learned to stretch in ways we never knew we could. Adopting outside your race, or to adopt a child with disabilities, invites comments and stares, and unsolicited advice. It also involves challenges that families who do not adopt or foster ever really understand. We decided to roll with it and have had some humorous encounters, which were meant to somehow shame us or something. But the Lord put this child in our lives because we needed to see with new eyes, I think. We needed to know that love has no skin color, no disability. Love just is.

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I had to write this because there has been so much anger out there, thrown at us on a daily basis. The rioting is beyond ridiculous. To think that you have to parade around in hats and costumes representing female body parts, in order to express your rights, is unfathomable to me. Is there no modesty or shame? Sometime their vocabulary truly insults and embarrasses me. And what they don’t realize, it is embarrassing them, too. The mindset that says my body trumps someone else’s, who is so vulnerable, blows my mind. I have lived through Roe V Wade and I have seen the fallout. My senior year in High School, it became law. And the change in our culture has been incredible. And not in a good way. My freshman year in college, I had student health coverage (back then, as soon as you were 18 you had to get your own insurance). I went to the heath center for a sinus infection and walked out with birth control pills and a diaphragm, just in case I wanted “extra protection.” I survived free love, and sex-drugs-and rock & roll, and lived to tell about it, with my brain cells intact (thanks be to God). And with no diseases or accidents along the way (accidents as in driving when I should not have been). I have lived with roommates who had so many abortions I lost count. I have seen friends get pregnant and chose to keep their babies. I have friends who got pregnant and gave their children up for adoption. And I have friends, like me, who have lost babies due to miscarriage. Life is just so very fragile. But in every single case, it was a child. Not a lump of cells. It was not a puppy. It was not a goldfish. It was a baby. One of my roommates kept her pregnancy sonograms for each abortion and I would hear her cry at night. She knew they were babies.

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“So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.” Genesis 1:27

“For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be.” Psalm 139:13-16

As I looked at the little urn at our friend’s child’s funeral, I kept thinking about what the priest said about being the “adopted sons of God,” and I felt a surge of love in my heart. It was for all the children rescued and adopted. It was for this family, who selflessly took in this little boy and loved him so very well, even on the day of his funeral. It was for our family and how we have grown as people because the Lord brought a special child into our lives. No child needs to die. Not one. Yes, we would have had millions more children in our world; just in the USA alone we average more than 1.2 million abortions a year. And it would have stretched our communities and our homes. But no child is unwanted. No child is not worth that increased burden on our culture. Our homes ache for these babies. Our culture is darker because we have killed them. But God will forgive us. He always forgives those who seek His forgiveness. Our country can turn this trend around. We can be healed as a people.

“You have heard that it was said to those of old, ‘You shall not murder; and whoever murders will be liable to judgment.’ But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire. So if you are offering your gift at the altar and there remember that your brother has something against you, leave your gift there before the altar and go. First be reconciled to your brother, and then come and offer your gift.” Matthew 5: 21-24

I ask all of you, if I have wronged you in any way, please forgive me. Let’s work on loving first, and judging second. Let’s work on dealing with those who upset us, in love and prayer and acceptance. There’s a saying that goes, “Treat other people with politeness, even those who are rude to you, not because they are nice, but because you are.” If we all did this, our world would be a much kinder place. Kindness will win, in the end. In the meantime, try to spread it. Pray for those who are in situations where they are considering abortion…let them know we, the people around them, are here for them. Donate time, treasure, and your talents to the pro life movement. Offer to work at a life center, or to hold babies in the NICU, born with no one to love them. Become a foster parent, and take in those drug babies who will be placed in forever homes soon, or work with foster agencies to help families who do foster. Every little thing we can do will help save a life. If we show that we mean we are pro life and not just pro birth, the world will change. God will change it, through us.

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Respect for life from a natural conception to a natural death.