Monday, April 27, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Isn't that just luscious?
Well, it is to me. Because I don't get to say it nearly as much as I'd like to.
I love how it feels, saying it. I love how I can't say it without smiling. It's just... great.
So, sorry I won't be posting for the next few days.
I'll be out of the country. *grin*
Friday, April 17, 2009
As I stood, running my fingers over the spines of the books, I came across a small (very small) section about... wait for it... homeschooling. Before I had time to even *think* I had a thought. (How does that happen?) My thought was "I should homeschool."
Quick upon the heels of that thought was this one "You have lost your mind."
Let's talk about homeschoolers.
Homeschoolers are nutso. They come from homes where their parents are too religiously fanatic to trust other people, so they grow up so sheltered and controlled that when they finally leave home they run totally amok and are a menace to society. The first homeschooler I met, in third grade, couldn't handle confrontation with his peers--at.all--so his answer to any disagreement was to punch you in the face. NUTSO. (And I'm really not just making this up--most of the homeschoolers I knew, growing up, really didn't know how to deal with their peers or social pressure of any kind. It was sad.)
But then, why did I have that thought? What was that thought???? An errant whimsy? An idle, fleeting thing that I could ignore? Or was it fate? Destiny? Kismet? WHAT?!?!
Fast forward a year or so, and find me now living across the country, on the east coast. Imagine my suprise when I moved here and it seemed like half the population was homeschooled. Not only were the kids homeschooled, but the kids were generally...cool. Friendly. Capable. Social. Not nutso.
Enter various friends and mentors, who I've chatted with about that moment in the library. They have encouraged. They have been great sounding boards. They haven't judged.
And this baby girl has grown, and has evidenced different delays along the way. She is academically bright, but has other struggles, and so attends the "special ed" preschool at our local elementary. It is a *brilliant* program. We love it. She loves it.
But next year is kindergarten. We're starting to play for real. And I have no idea what to do. I can't get this homeschool thing out of my head (despite the parts of me that still think it's sheer insanity), but I am positively terrified.
So, we're debating.
No child left behind?
I just don't know.
But, in an attempt...
Heaven help us.
Wednesday, April 15, 2009
If she can make it there, she'll make it anywhere.
Do you see those eyes???? Just another one of the many reasons that I love this baby...
Well. That, and this face:
Tuesday, April 14, 2009
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Then, on Good Friday, these same crosses will be draped, instead, in red or black. It feels very somber and sad, to look at them.
But then, on Easter? Suddenly....
Some of these crosses are just absolutely beautiful. Some do fake flowers, and some do real. The ones that do real flowers are my favorite. We don't have crosses at our church, but every year I look forward to seeing these beautiful "living crosses." They make my heart sing.
Saturday, April 11, 2009
Friday, April 10, 2009
On that terrible Friday the earth shook and grew dark. Frightful storms lashed at the earth.
Those evil men who sought His life rejoiced. Now that Jesus was no more, surely those who followed Him would disperse. On that day they stood triumphant.
On that day the veil of the temple was rent in twain.
Mary Magdalene and Mary, the mother of Jesus, were both overcome with grief and despair. The superb man they had loved and honored hung lifeless upon the cross.
On that Friday the Apostles were devastated. Jesus, their Savior—the man who had walked on water and raised the dead—was Himself at the mercy of wicked men. They watched helplessly as He was overcome by His enemies.
On that Friday the Savior of mankind was humiliated and bruised, abused and reviled.
It was a Friday filled with devastating, consuming sorrow that gnawed at the souls of those who loved and honored the Son of God.
I think that of all the days since the beginning of this world’s history, that Friday was the darkest.
The despair did not linger because on Sunday, the resurrected Lord burst the bonds of death. He ascended from the grave and appeared gloriously triumphant as the Savior of all mankind.
And in an instant the eyes that had been filled with ever-flowing tears dried. The lips that had whispered prayers of distress and grief now filled the air with wondrous praise, for Jesus the Christ, the Son of the living God, stood before them as the firstfruits of the Resurrection, the proof that death is merely the beginning of a new and wondrous existence.
Each of us will have our own Fridays—those days when the universe itself seems shattered and the shards of our world lie littered about us in pieces. We all will experience those broken times when it seems we can never be put together again. We will all have our Fridays.
But I testify to you in the name of the One who conquered death—Sunday will come. In the darkness of our sorrow, Sunday will come.
No matter our desperation, no matter our grief, Sunday will come. In this life or the next, Sunday will come.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
So in the spirit of Pollyanna, I've been trying to find reasons to be "glad" about this particular illness. Here is my list:
1. I am not pregnant or nursing and, therefore, can take real drugs.
2. I took my daughter with me to the urgent care and she puked on their floor and someone else got to clean it up.
3. It gave my blessed visiting teacher a chance to magnify her calling by watching two of my children today.
4. Sleep. Lots of sleep. And that's always a good thing.
5. All liquid beverage diet is good for my weight goals.
6. Perspective. Lots and lots and lots of perspective. Because I don't always hurt like this. I feel pretty good, most of the time. And that is huge. There are plenty of people in the world who go to bed hurting and wake up hurting. Every movement is pain. Light on their eyes makes them wince. I don't understand how they cope without driving themselves and all around them crazy, but I know that a lot of them do, and I'm amazed.
Pollyanna is right--you can always find things to be glad about. Please pass the Nyquil.