Jesus loves children. So do I. I am a really old one myself. It is beautiful the newness of everything, the awe ar discovery, the preciousness of every minute, the here and now of it all, the faith and trust and wanting to please. There is a sacredness, a preciousness, an innocence to it all. It is endearing. I love leading these precious ones in worship to our Maker. Oh how they are eager to sing! To praise! To be heard! We need to keep them protected and out of harm’s way the best we can. Anyone who harm’s or wounds or warps a child should be severely punished now and if unrepentant will definitely be punished for an eternity. Anyone who kills a child (even an unborn baby) should have the same fate given to them, but that is my opinion because I share Jesus’ heart in matters of loving children. He never sent them away, always had time for them, encouraged their faith. I imagine he smiled so big when a child wondered after a butterfly, realizing He made them for just such a child to enjoy. Children are treasures. Teaching mine at home has been such at rich blessing for me. Leading worship also blesses me. I am mom first and foremost, always have been, always will be. If I could, my house would be full of them. As it is, we always end up with several around. God bless the children!! ❤
My daughter is getting close to 7 years old. And she has a new stalling technique for bedtime. She has suddenly become a philosopher, with a million new insights and contemplations and questions just after bedtime prayers and after lights out. Then bam! She is searching then for all of life’s trying questions, such as “Momma, have you always wanted to swing with Lamby?” Or “I can text Jesus on my phone” or “What is Heaven like?” Or “Momma, I feel strongly that we should go to the park tomorrow.” It is always interesting and at the same moment annoying for I need to recover from our busy, b us day. I tell her “We will talk about that tomorrow and now you can discuss it with God until you fall asleep.” Ah, the adventure of childbirth. At the time, you have an idea the worst is over. And in a way, that is really hard but the adventure just begins there and keeps going forever. It really is a beautiful adventure to be a mom. That is true whether you birth your own or adopt someone else’s who can’t care for them. Both are beautiful! Life is beautiful! God was good to think of it. What a richness my kids have brought to my life.
So, our kids in public schools and colleges all over the amazing, freedom encouraging, Christian filled United States of America. I survived all the way to a doctorate because my upbringing was so morally Christian and strong and that was still with being bombarded with social drama, bullies, liberal philosophies, discouragement and ridicule at being a Christian, evolution religion posing as fact, and social garbage about how Islam is a “peaceful” religion (bahahaha). None of this is essential for learning what you need to work and be productive, helpful, patriotic adults. It is ridiculous! How are parents saying “Oh well” and sending them anyway to the wolves instead of doing something, speaking against this garbage. They are paying for their kids to be taught an extreme amount of absolute bunk. I am a parent and am outraged by it. So much so that I homeschool my kids. If I were not able to do that, I would demand to evaluate curriculum, evaluate punishments for bullying, require teachers not preach their biases, return the pledge of allegiance and beginning prayer and the 10 commandments. I would fight tooth and nail until our future/children don’t end up confused and misinformed and brainwashed. Consider what your silence is putting your children through. Step up and say something now. It has gone on long enough. We finally have a President who wants our freedom to be free and not indoctrinated and he will help. Let him know your concerns. Demand action from your state leaders. Demand it.
Children are precious treasures from God. They are this at every stage of their life from the initial union of this from him and that from her. This starts life, the celebration product of this great union. Life. It begins so vulnerably, so beautifully, with feedings and cuddles and caretaking and snuggly sleeps. Children are innocent, precious, very important for they are the heirs, the next of kin, a new generation, hope. Children are to be protected by adults. Anything less than that is to be violently opposed. Anyone approaches my kids to harm them, they will have to get past me and my husband and every weapon we own, no small task. Anyone who harms or kills a child should receive the same fate. But back to the child. Allow your child to be a child, the beautiful creation of God in His image before you. Allow them to laugh and cry and fall and encourage them the entire time. Be that love source for them. Let them always know you are for them. This is how we give them a solid foundation and demonstrate the importance of who God made them to be. Then we have given them are base, roots for which they can pull from and rely on through tough times this messed up world will throw at them. Discipline them and give them chores so they know their expectations are nd learn to care for themselves but do everything in love and with prayer. Children are the future but they will not be unless they arendnd really taught now. So that becomes a high priority. Tech is no substitute for parents or caring adults who help these children. They need proactive care. Kids rarely raise themselves well. Be a parent like you either had or wish you had growing up and make that a goal. It is the most important work you will ever do. God will always help, grant wisdom and strengthen when humbly asked. Always.
So today, I visited my Daddy as is my custom for 2 years now, as that is how long they have lived here and that is how long he has been sick. I am so thankful that I have been able to care for my daddy in his home as long as he could be there now in his new home in the nursing home where he can get 24 hour care. But today, for the first time ever, I was met with blank, empty eyes that did not know who I was. Dementia is a horrible disease and I knew this was coming, seeing it in so many patients and understanding the clinical aspects of it, syptoms, knowledge, I know more about this hateful disease than most people do. But. All my head knowledge flew out the window when my hero of my life, my sweet Daddy, my champion and the only man on the planet who has not betrayed me in some way, this man did not know me, his baby. It is rare that my emotions get the better of me. But I can tell you I am a mess. To my closest loves, I rarely unleash my heart, it is difficult for me because I feel so strongly and most cannot handle that. But. Right now, if I don’t let this sadness out of my heart, I may break under its strength. All day around people, no matter where I went, people were, good people, some amazing people that help, my sisters, my best friend, my children, all are amazingly important to me and helped so much but this therapy of screaming to the world in text that I thought I was ready for my Daddy to go to heaven but I am not. It about killed me that he diidn’t know me. My champion. Who will be my champion? Who could love me like that? No one can. I am not lovable enough for anyone else on the planet to love me like he has my whole life. I have been so fortunate to have such a Daddy. I have not always been the best daughter but he never stopped loving me so much that it gave me wings. I could never have accomplished all I have in life without his support and knowing he was there loving me, my hero. A girl needs a hero who she knows she can run to if it doesn’t work out and just be loved and taken in and held so tightly that no harm can get in. Why does this disease toy with us? It is a horrible thing. I lose him in seconds, in minutes, and it is not what it was. My base of support is crumbling and I am a lost little girl holding out her hand for her Daddy and Daddy can’t come this time. He is lost in his mind. He is fading away. And I am left here to watch him trail off. My tears flow as I write, my nose runs, my heart physically hurts me. Torture would be easier to take. Physical abuse I could handle better than this. This is a slow shredding of my heart. And I write this down not to torture you also but to voice words for pain that I cannot say the words to. My mouth cannot say but my fingers are my voice. Maybe you have such pain for whatever reason. Voice it somehow. It has to get out of your mind. It has to leave your body somehow or it consumes and becomes a stronghold or rift in the balance or change in your psyche. How you see the world can change if it stays in there. My tears are slowing as I type. I am realizing that the release of the emotion is as important as the capturing of them. Water flows in and must flow out. There must be balance. Where there is balance, the catcher is not thrown down when the next pitch comes in. And I realize that I still am loved. My support structure may no longer be one man, my Daddy, buuut it is many friends and family members and my love and those who love me and have shown such amazing support during this difficult time. And please continue praying as my mom has surgery to remove her breast cancer as well during all this. Life keeps going. It changes. When I was young, I thought everything adults did was mundane and repetitive and boring. HA!! I could use a little boredom right now. I wish I had been right. lol Laughter heals. I firmly believe that, there is proof. So, I will not live here, though I am definitely here for a visit with grief. I will visit but I will not live here. Dear God, please grant a fast transition through it!
I have a dear friend who likes the song Runaway. The fun part of that is that said friend has no idea how often I really have done so and would like to run away. I love road trips. When stress pushes me in too hard from all sides, I used to and still want to move forward, to a new place with new faces that I don’t know are meanies or judges or alarmists or liars yet. Somewhere new and fresh and start over. Not that I am a coward or not brave but that I value life and freedom more than accepting less than what that should be. I have run many many times, sometimes in the guise of work, sometimes temporarily on road trips or vacations, other times much more blatant, but never once since having my children. Kids have a way of grounding you. You face things for your kids that you will not ever face for anyone or anything else in the world. You stay. You don’t run away. For them, you fight battles and adult up and handle business. For their benefit and stability and roots, you ground in, dig deep, take all the mud flown at you, accept the attacks, wrestle deep. For them, you postpone even other loves, even really really strong ones that hold you deep in. You put them on hold for an unspecified amount of time so these precious angels in your care can grow to believe the world is safe and ideals are important and they are important and well looked after. Before children, my view was significantly easier to traverse, much quicker and easier to maintain, my needs easier to meet. After children, my needs are the last thing on my list of goals. Someday, I may run again. I will remain close to my children as they need me. Maybe one day my priorities will change and my needs will resurface when they need me less. Maybe. The road beckons me, calls me to journey, pushes me on, whispers sweet temptations into my ear so softly with the breeze. My curiosity awakens within me a desire to know what is around the next corner, over the next hill, through those woods, in that water, up that tree. It is the mind of me, the heart of who I am, a traveler going through this journey of life at breakneck speeds, suddenly slowed by the detour of children, a beautiful detour to enjoy along the way, taking you down unplanned but amazing new worlds you had not considered. The wonder of their minds and hearts comes alongside your own and the journey adds passengers. You meet people, face triumphs together, face pain together, work through things, an application of advice given now acting out yourself. Live becomes this reason to stay and not run. Mostly. But some amount of running is necessary to maintain serenity. Too much life in one space limits the will and traps the mind. Sometimes, being a little, albeit temporary runaway is the healthiest thing on earth. My friend has great taste in music. 🙂
I re-read this masterpiece of a book, The Little Engine That Could, to my 5 year old daughter. The beautiful thing about children is that quite often things are new to them if not revisited in a month or two or a year even. The pictures are endearing and colorful, the story is poignant and inspiring, the flow of the phrasing is nice and conversational and it is made for children who are intelligent. Such a sweet book lifts the heart and provides hope to children who read it and parents who read it. For you see, we parents are confronted with this reality every day also. There are always a lot of people looking down their nose and judging us based on appearance or how quiet we can keep our children in social situations. We are around people who are so wrapped up in themselves that they will not stop to visit or help or anything. And the last person to come along may not be the sleekest or most powerful or best person but they can sure help get you over the hump, over the hill. And over the hill is accomplishment. Nothing is accomplished without a fair amount of work and sometimes good happens with help.