Soul, It Is...Well

Six and a half years ago, in August 2016, I received some of the most devastating personal news of my life: I had breast cancer.

It was a surreal moment. My head spun and my heart raced. I didn't know what to say to the doctor on the other end of the phone call. I felt wordless.

But God, as He always does, put the exact right person in that position at exactly the right moment. The doctor who called wasn't the surgeon I'd been seeing. He was just the one on duty that day. He didn't know me, but he did understand cancer since he'd already had it, as well. He gave me space to process the news and then explained the type of cancer I had and the prognosis, which he noted was very good. If I had to have cancer, it was a "good" one to have, he said. He wasn't a fortune teller, psychic, or visionary -- just someone who understood from experience and his job.

The next month and a half was filled with appointments and plans. My surgery was scheduled for a few days after my birthday in mid-October.

I won't lie and say I wasn't nervous. But God placed the first verse and refrain from the old hymn, "It Is Well with My Soul," in my head and that helped me through that time. He reminded me of the words and the story behind them. And, because of that, I had a tremendous peace.

From Wikipedia: The hymn was written by Horatio Spafford after many traumatic events in his life. 

The first two were the death of his four-year-old son and the Great Chicago Fire of 1871, which ruined him financially (he had been a successful lawyer and had invested significantly in property in the area of Chicago that was extensively damaged by the great fire). His business interests were further hit by the economic downturn of 1873, at which time he had planned to travel to England with his family on the Ville du Havre for D. L. Moody's upcoming evangelistic campaigns. 

In a late change of plan, he sent the family ahead while he was delayed on business concerning zoning problems following the Great Chicago Fire. While crossing the Atlantic Ocean, the ship sank rapidly after a collision with a sea vessel, the Loch Line, and all four of Horatio's daughters died. His wife Anna survived and sent him the now famous telegram, "Saved alone …" 

Shortly afterwards, as Horatio traveled to meet his grieving wife, he was inspired to write these words as his ship passed near where his daughters had died.

When peace like a river, attendeth my way,
When sorrows like sea billows roll;
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to know
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

Refrain
It is well, (it is well),
With my soul, (with my soul)
It is well, it is well, with my soul.

If a man who had lost so much could say that, I, with curable cancer, could repeat the same words. 

Praise God!

Monday Musings

Well, it's been awhile, huh?

I know. I know. I promised I would try to do better...but, in fact, I feel like I've done worse.

It's been a busy decade or so. Changing from a mommy of two to a mom of three threw me completely out of whack. There's so much more to do and say and buy...and wash. Some weeks I just give up and sit around eating bon bons while watching soap operas...

Ha! If only.

So where have I been? Here...there...everywhere...but mostly just home -- or at least nearby. Working, momming, driving, wifeing...

My little kids turned into the "big kids." (Who knew that would happen??) They're both in college now...in the midst of finals week and preparations for next steps.

My little baby -- who is anything but little...and a baby -- is now 10 going on 75. (No, seriously. Some days I feel like he's aging quicker than I am.) He's in 6th grade this year...and very nearly finished.

I just cannot believe we're at this point in the year.

I'll probably do some kind of recaps, trying to summarize what's been happening in the past millennium gadzillion too many 10 years or so. But I'll also continue to post about new stuff about what's happening now. Because there's lots of good stuff coming up this month, especially. [Hums "Pomp and Circumstance." and "God Save the Queen" to herself.] And life doesn’t ever stop long enough for me to catch up.

We've said happy hellos to lots of new friends...and sad goodbyes to too many old friends. We’ve moved from phase to phase, trying to adapt along the way. There’s no parental instruction book. Well, not one written specifically for your kid or mine...or anyone else’s, for that matter.

2019.

Nearly halfway through it. Nearly another new decade.

Musing merrily on a Monday. It's what I used to do...every week...it's what I want to do again.

So for now, I'll keep this short and (hopefully?) sweet.

*wink-grin*

Until the next time!

In Times Like These...

I love words. 

I love the way they fall together to create sentences, forming stories or poems or songs. I love to hear the jingle of the letters’ sounds together – sometimes making onomatopoeia. I loved teaching my children how to read and process the sounds together to make words. I loved sharing my favorite words with them: saunter, facetious, whimsical.

But words don’t define me. I am not a collection of static letters or sounds. That’s when words lose their meaning.

I am a living, breathing, ever-changing human. I am not what people call me, either in race or religion or creed. My beliefs are my own, not formed by a stereotype or what I am told they are or should be. They are mine. And the basic core of my soul stays the same, but my thoughts are fluid as I observe and grow and process all that is around me.

When we allow our televisions and newspapers and online sources to tell us what to believe about who we are and what we are, it’s time to UNPLUG. When we listen and believe only what we are told, we have given up the power of words. We have allowed fear to own us.

So many people are complaining about the violence we hear and read about…constantly…the “ugliness” that is our world. I didn’t see it personally. I only read about it. What if it wasn’t as bad as described? What if “catastrophic” was an exaggeration of the events…made to cause fear and panic and anxiety in me? Catastrophic has always existed…and recent events are nothing new. And, yet, losing one person is always tragic to me. Losing three…even more so. Those people have their own people, who knew and loved and cherished them. And now they are without them. That makes me incredibly sad.

But fearful?

Instead of concentrating on what’s happening and being afraid, what if we looked around us at the world we can actually see? Look at the multitudes of flowers all around us, full of color and blooming in the final weeks of summertime. Listen to the giggles we hear from children running on a playground, enjoying their freedom and the innocence of just being. Watch a family or group of friends laugh, enjoying a dinner together.

Why can’t we grab hold of these truths? 

They are RIGHT. IN. FRONT. OF. OUR. EYES. 

They are real and happening right now. 

Why can’t we let go of what the media wants us to hear, to believe, to own. Realize that we may not have “gotten our way” in the election, but then neither did half the country in the last two elections…and we all made it through just fine. What if we accept what is and have faith that goodness exists and that we’ll all be okay…goodness is in children, in furry animals, in chocolate, in a drive through farmland, in a walk through a city, in the rising and setting of the sun. What if we believed in the good of mankind again – in those we know and see and love around us? What if we “agree to disagree” and go back to making cookies for each other or sharing ice cream cones or game nights or movies together? What if we ONLY try to make the small sphere we live in a better place for our children to live and grow up in, refuse to do anything else or read anything else or fear anymore?

What else can we do? Really?

For better or worse, this is the world we live in. We only see and feel and hear a small sphere of it, a mere sliver of all that is out there. Why not concentrate on that for a change, count our blessings and realize that, yes, we are sinful, but through God’s mercy, we are good? We are safe. We are alive. And we are free.

Then our words will be meaningful again. Because their power will be ours – not the media’s or government’s. Just ours.

It starts with a simple phrase: I love you, my friend. Not because we are the same, but because we are different.

I am NOT "white" or "conservative" or "hateful" or "mean." I am just Susie.

Perspectives

My parents always taught us to look at both sides of something. Sometimes that meant playing the "devil's advocate," but it was still an important lesson. Things aren't always one-sided, even if we want -- or hope for -- them to be.

This was an important tool to have in my toolbox when I became a reporter. It's easy to want to make the narrative fit the issue. But is the narrative truth...or at the very least, the whole truth? How much braver to look at an issue and face that it might be different than we wanted -- or hoped.

No one is perfect. Everyone has some skeletons in his/her closet.

A diamond has multiple sides, and the sun hits each side differently, causing a different amount of sparkle and shine and light. Just the same, people have different ways of seeing the world -- or even an event.

None is wrong...just different.

Maybe when we finally realize and grasp this, the world will become a better place?

Maybe.

Agree to Disagree

Editor's note: I've been going through the blog post drafts I have on here, and this is from 2009. Sadly, not much has changed as far as some of our freedoms of speech go. Maybe it's time to change that...

* * *

Some may be offended by this post...if you think you're one of them, don't read this. You have been warned. *wink-grin*

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Shhh. Do you hear it? That's the sound of my soapbox being dragged out....

I have a peeve to pet, an annoyance to air. It's been awhile since I have felt this angry about something...a long time since I have felt so hurt. So bear with my while I vent.

What is happening to real freedom? Freedom of speech (as long as you don't say the "wrong" thing), freedom of thought (as long as your thoughts agree with what's "acceptable"...to be determined by certain people only), freedom of expression (as long as it's exactly the same as everyone else).

Ugh.

Are we becoming sheep? Lemmings? Emperor penguins even? Being all the same and told what to feel and think and do?

I've thought long and hard about the words "conservative" and "liberal," and it's ironic that the people who claim to be them are actually the opposite of the true meanings.

liberal: broad-minded; especially: not bound by authoritarianism, orthodoxy, or traditional forms

conservative: tending or disposed to maintain existing views, conditions, or institutions: traditional

The liberals are outraged when anyone conservative disagrees with them -- and has the *gasp* gall to do it publicly. How dare they! By not agreeing you are basically telling them they're wrong...even though you may never have uttered those words...or even thought that thought. You just have a difference in opinion...which used to be (I thought) accepted and guaranteed by our Constitution? Where's the "broad-mindedness" in that?

But wait. Isn't that what they claim the conservatives do? Funny how that's what the word conservative means. Thinking in a narrow-minded way...being "intolerant" of other views.

I hate Lily Allen.

Oops. Was that my out-loud voice?

Okay, I said it out loud.

Once upon a time I liked her. A lot. I thought she was cute and fun and different. Now, I think she's an obnoxious "brat" who will one day pay for all she's sowing at this moment. She's using her "fame" to promote some pretty awful things. And why? So that she can be heard? So that she can sway a bunch of people to feel like she does? Have her moment of fame?

But I want to ask her some things.

First: Where do you live?

What gives you the right to have ANY opinion on my country or my country's leaders? Last I'd heard, you live in Great Britain...not the U.S.

Next: What exactly did President Bush do to you personally?

I'm sure you couldn't say. It's just the popular thing to diss a President who actually stood up against the evil that was done to his country...not your country. You didn't then -- still don't -- live here. And would you actually sing that horribly vulgar song to President Bush? (Yes, he is still called President and always will be. Sadly, you won't always be a singer.)

So your country joined in. Be mad at your own country's leaders NOT mine. Those leaders aren't puppets. They have their own wills to do what they deem as best. (Do you even have a full education to understand such thoughts? Doubtful. But I digress...and bow to your level by attacking you personally...)

And then: Was it YOUR country that was attacked on 9/11? Did you have any personal loss from that particular incident?

I did.

It was MY country that was attacked. It was MY countrymen that died, MY parents who lost friends in the Pentagon attack. It was MY children who lost the chance to go inside those buildings and enjoy an American landmark.

Finally: How would you feel if people started putting down your country and your country's leaders and you personally?

Oh, wait. You have no pride of country. You have no real country....not acting like that. You're a lost soul with nothing to hang onto...and that makes me sad.

When we promote hatred, we go a long way in pushing back the efforts of "peace on earth" since such "peace" starts with with a tolerance (from EVERYone) towards each other and each other's thoughts. That's TOLERANCE...not agreement. We can "agree to disagree" and still love one another...still be friends.

Until then, you keep singing such filthy songs, Miss Allen. You keep putting down people with honor who actually stand for something you'll never understand. You'll be the loser...since there's no real peace in your heart, the place that true peace on earth begins.

And remember for every finger you point (whichever one you choose) there are still four more pointing backwards. Look inside and see if this is the "agenda" you really want to push.

Okay. Okay. Soapbox away.

Sigh.

To Like or Not to Like

In a world that's saturated by social media, friendship is cheap.

On Facebook and Twitter, we "collect" friends and followers, even though we may never really speak to or connect with said friends and followers. We just "like" or repost photos and stories and statuses. Or retweet things we think are interesting. Sometimes we post photos in the hopes that they will draw a lot of attention and get lots of "likes" and/or comments. Then we'll feel liked, right?

But is there any real connection?

It's really just a popularity contest. We can choose the "friend of the day" like a person chooses a flavor of ice cream. We also can judge people by what they post. Sometimes, posts even cause feelings of inadequacy and jealousy, most of us forgetting that we can choose to do some of the same things we see or read about -- watch the same movies, read the same books, visit the same restaurants and cafes, save to travel to the same places, be the same patient/loving mother we think our friends are.

It just takes more effort (and money) for some.

Do you remember as a child being in a group of friends and seeing the "odd" girl hanging out on the fringe? Sometimes she was reading a book. Sometimes she was playing by herself. Sometimes she was standing, longing to be included. Do you remember feeling sad for her but hoping that someone else would invite her to join in? Do you remember when you became that "odd" girl and suddenly you understood just how lonely it felt to be on the outside edge of the circle? It made you promise yourself that if you ever made it back into the circle that you would always include any girls on the fringe.

What causes people to pick and choose who they like and don't like? Why do we separate into groups, causing others to feel on the outer edge? It takes effort to include everyone. It takes thought.

Thought.

Sure, we're only human. We can't do everything perfectly, and sometimes we're going to forget to show the kindnesses that we've been shown. But when we do think of others -- include others -- we're doing something different...and we're showing God's love. Two good things.

We can't really choose to like or not like someone. Well, we can...but should we? In a world filled with loneliness and hopelessness, let's try harder to be a friend to everyone.

It'll be worth the effort.

Three-Year-Old Lawyers

My hubby and I were talking about children the other day. (It's a popular topic for us, given the fact that we have three of them.)

We discussed how people warned us about two-year-olds and the "Terrible Twos," trembling like they'd survived a horrific zombie attack and lived to tell the tales.

We laughed the first time, when our oldest was about 14 months old. "Riiiight," we said to each other because we'd subscribed to the notion that the "twos" would be "terrific."

And they were.

Then came three.

It's not that our sweet, adorable, angel-faced daughter sudden turned demonic. Not in the slightest. She just learned to talk.

And with talking came curiosity.

And with curiosity came questioning.

And then...came...arguing.

Now, arguing, in and of itself, is not a bad thing. Depending on how it's done, a person can learn a lot of good things, most importantly maturity and humility.

But when you're three and your language and thinking skills are still developing, those aren't the first things you're going to learn. In fact, you probably aren't going to learn much, except how to drive your parents batty, which, for the record, will come in really handy when they're future lawyers.

Now, 13, 9, and 2 years later (respectively), our little lawyers are still going at it. They're very curious and love to question things. And they still love to argue. (No one plans a career in law.)

But we, their parents, have learned a few things along the way.

Sometimes, when the arguing starts to get to us, we just smile.

One day, they'll have their own three-year-old lawyers.

*  *  *

How did you survive the toddler/preschool years with your little ones?

A Non-excuse, Excusing My Absence, or I'm Back...I Hope

So, it has been quite awhile since I dusted off the keyboard and posted on my beloved blog, and SO much has happened. In our lives. In our world. And...in blogdom.

Wow!

To say that I feel overwhelmed doesn't even begin to explain anything except for why I've not been here for a LOOOONG time. When I came to the blog world in 2006, not many people even knew what a blog was. I felt myself blushing each time I explained. I'd resisted creating a blog, just as I had resisted joining Facebook, because both felt a bit like a vanity project. But it became an awesome way to get myself writing again...and a great way to keep track of our growing family...and a wonderful way to keep in touch with family and friends overseas.

Fast-forward seven years and everyone -- and I mean EVERYONE -- and his uncle and his dog has a blog. Even our "beloved" gas company keeps a blog. I interviewed a man at Penske and he was hired for the express purpose of keeping the company's blog and Twitter feed.

Wow!

I've found a ton of parenting and homeschooling blogs that I enjoy reading. And even a few from past friends/acquaintances. Now it makes my little vanity project feel small and insignificant, which it is in the big scheme of things. And it's intimidating.

Yet, here I am, dusting off my keyboard (again) and starting up my blog (again). I'm only one of millions doing this. But I'm doing it to keep my mind uncluttered (as I reminded myself in my motto above) and I'm keeping a record for the kids...and I merely love to write.

Why not?

So no apologies...well, just one: Sorry it's taken so long for me to realize this. And no excuses. Okay...just one: How do I compare to all of these others, including the "professional" bloggers out there???

Simple. I don't.

I continue as I was before...keeping track of life and love and thoughts and fun and sadness and all the things that crowd in my head and keep me awake at 4 a.m.

Welcome back to you, lovely friends and readers. I've missed you!

Monday Musings and Memories

Happy Monday!

Wow! Is July really speeding along...nearly the middle of the month. Sheesh!

It was amazing to go to Target yesterday and see school supplies out ALREADY?!?!? Seriously? I mean, don't we get to enjoy a bit of summer break without thinking about "back to school"?

Guess not.

Stuart says it won't be long until they have out all the Christmas stuff. Give 'em a month or so, he says. Which reminds me that they are...drum roll, please...171 more shopping days until Christmas. This has been a PSA brought to you by Writer's Block.

So many thoughts...so little brainpower to get them written down.

My boys are vacuuming for me as I type. Really cute. Edward is manning the larger (real) vacuum, while Ethan follows using his Fisher-Price (pretend) one. Edward volunteered. Really sweet, huh? Emily is at play practice for "Twelfth Night," which opens on August 3rd, pending no rain. I think she's actually pretty excited, and she's really clever at learning her lines so quickly. Here's hoping she remembers them under the weight of her nerves.

Speaking of school. I heard Ethan whispering sounds during the prayer time at church yesterday. He was sounding out the word "EXIT" at the back of the sanctuary. He was quite pleased with himself when he figured it out...and so was I, though I did remind him that we should be quiet since we were praying. He's so clever with his learning, sucking it all up like a very thirsty sponge. I get excited by it, but then I'm quick to remember that the other two were just as clever. It makes me feel very blessed...and very daunted, being their teacher.

We suffered through a mini heatwave at the end of last week, and I don't think the air conditioner turned off at all during that time. I know that other parts of the country have been suffering for much longer, some without power. With temperatures close to 100 on Saturday morning, Emily decided she just had to have the next book in the Ender's Game series. So since we have a small used bookstore up the street that carries them, she begged Stuart to take her. He told her it was way too hot...but, being the book lover that I am, I said I would go with her. I've been looking to buy the book I Captured the Castle for less that the $14.99 Barnes & Noble is charging...so going along I knew I might get lucky and find it there.

Wow!

We hadn't even gone 10 feet and the wave of heat nearly melted us into a puddle. We made it there -- found her book and a bag of others (not the original one I hoped for but $5 for a bag of books?), as well as a book of short stories by Fitzgerald -- and back without frying too much. Yikes. What we do for our kids, right?  And, just for the record, it got to 102 F on Saturday.  Hot enough to fry an egg?

I am actually (finally) reading a book again. It's called The Janson Command, the sequel to a Robert Ludlum book I read a few years ago. Not written by him, of course, since he died back in 2002 and this just came out but still very good. I have a stack of other books to read, and I'm hoping this greases the wheel for me to get reading again.

I'll end with a photo I decorated in memory of Molly, Edward's guinea pig. It was a hard day yesterday, but we know that God cares for all of His creatures, big and small, and that He loved her, too.

Imagine That!

A few weeks ago, Ethan's imaginative world included "constellations" that were "invisible" and the Tooth Fairy.

I was just impressed that a 3-year-old could use the word constellations and seem to understand what they were.

He went on and on about this...not sure what it was related to, though it may have been the story he'd been playing with the Fisher-Price Little People set he'd been using.

But then he grew very serious and put his hand on Stuart's leg. "Daddy," he started with a sigh, his face somewhat somber. "Do you know what the Tooth Fairy is?"

Stuart said that he did and that one day she'd visit our house.

Ethan wandered around, still sighing and looking very serious, asking about other things and mumbling things about the Tooth Fairy (he can be difficult to understand at times). Then he plopped down with a giggle, on the floor beside Edward to watch him play a game on his iPod.

The very real (ie. serious) imaginings of a 3-year-old.

How soon we "older" ones forget that joy and freedom.

In Sibling Love...It's Complicated.

Emily, 11, hugs baby Ethan, 5 months

It's been said that a picture says a thousand words.

Maybe so. But this one says one word to me: Love.

Sadly, the word wasn't always true...though it's becoming truer by the day. Not that they ever didn't love one another. Sometimes sibling love is complicated.

I love that photos capture a moment, though. That moment looks so peaceful and sweet and serene and...and...

It doesn't matter that a moment earlier the two might have been crying or pulling each other's hair. (They weren't.)  In the photo, they look perfect. (They were.) A snapshot of time...captured peace.

Emily and Ethan have had an interesting relationship.

Being older than him by nearly 11 years makes them in two different realms age-wise.  Emily is his boss, his leader, his "one-in-charge." There's no way around that. She's nearly ready to graduate while he's nearly ready to start school.

It wasn't the spacing that we had planned. But God had other ideas -- all good, I know.

But, much like his sister at the same age, Ethan doesn't like other people being in charge. He wants some, okay, all of the control. He came out of the womb a born leader.

For the first two years, Ethan was all about Edward. Since they're both boys and there's only 7 1/2 years between them, they had a camaraderie from the get-go. For some reason, Ethan didn't seem as keen to be around Emily. Maybe because she was constantly trying to hold him and hug him and swing him around...and call him "George." (Oops...I think that's a Bugs Bunny cartoon.) He seemed to like his space from Day 1. But we had told Emily that her new baby sibling would like that so I think she got the wrong end of the stick from that same day.

Still, Ethan hit 3 years old and somehow that all changed. Maybe it's the Sunday afternoons we've left them together for impromptu playdates, or just a mutual changing and maturity in personalities and respect.

They seem to get along so much better...with a definite love displayed on both sides. Much more like the "story" in the photo above.

Much more like the one-word I see in the photo: Love.

Smelling the Roses...

I don't know if it's that I'm aging...or if it's a build up of busyness that fills our lives, but I have the overwhelming urge to stop and smell the roses (really smell them!), lay in the grass and stare at the clouds, sit in the sunshine and eat a Popsicle while telling jokes.

..just think about anything -- and nothing -- letting my cares go free for a moment or two...or three...

I was driving down the road the other day, and I spotted the most beautiful end-of-the-day cloud formation. It was pink and wispy, soft, and between it and the song I was listening to, it conjured up a dreamy feeling in my head, reminding me to "stop to smell the roses."

I remember a song when I was little -- maybe in kindergarten -- that was a part of a listening game. You had dance around like crazy while the song played and then, without knowing when, you would hear someone shout: STOP! and the music would stop and you would have to freeze. It was fun and a great tool in teaching the art of listening.

But, more than that, it encouraged the idea of just stopping...in all the energy and activity of the song, just ceasing to move for a moment.

That sunset reminded me of that song. It implored me to: STOP! and actually enjoy it.

Sometimes in the busyness of our lives -- school, work, chores -- we feel like we're dancing the crazy dance, trying to keep up with it all, trying to bring some saneness to the busyness around us by constantly moving with the tide of life.

And then, like in the song, something -- or someone -- shouts: STOP!

Are we listening?

Where Have All the Young Ones Gone...

When you give birth to a baby, you inherently know that at some point in the future you will have to let go of said-baby. If you don't, said-baby will let you know by kicking or crying or pushing away...somehow. And when that happens, life is forever going to be different.

For some that first "letting go" comes when they go back to work -- sometimes at 6 weeks or sometimes when the baby is slightly older. And when that happens, life is forever different.

For others, that first moment comes when the child goes to school -- whether preschool or kindergarten. They drop them off or wave goodbye to the schoolbus, knowing that life is forever different.

Then there are some who don't really do this "letting go" until the children are much, much older. They might choose to homeschool them, keeping them closer to home for awhile longer. There are outside activities, to be sure, like dance or soccer or theater or youth group or even a homeschool group. But the children haven't officially left home -- not in the traditional sense anyway.

School is done at the dining room table or the local coffee shop or the backyard or the library. Evenings are divided between family time and activities, the enjoyment of laughing together warming each family members' heart.

It's comfortable.

Summers pass peacefully with the minimum of activities and the maximum of books and drawing tablets and games and crafts and relaxation. Trips to the playground are punctuated by quick pop-ins to the library on the way home to pick out "just-five-okay-six-wait-no!-okay-ten" books to read in the next two evenings. Summer jobs aren't necessary just yet -- they will be soon -- but just not yet. There's time for exploration and fun...and the bliss of boredom.

But the summers end all too soon, and it's back to the books at the table and activities after dinner...

...thus, the seasons pass.

In the back of these parents' minds is the fact that at some point in the not-so-far-off future these days of comfort will end....the "schoolbus" will come for these children. And this comfort that has been enjoyed over the years will begin to change...and life will be forever different.

But different isn't bad, right? Different is just changed, and change can be good depending on how you look at it.

And this change will mean that time spent together as a whole family will be cherished a bit differently, treated as the treasure that it is -- special moments together enjoyed on a whole new level. Life will begin to open like the layers of a "cootie-catcher," each triangular fold opening up possibilities for a new kind of fun.

So it goes...the passing of one generation to another. We all grow older. It's all a part of having children, right?

It just feels like the summer ends too soon.

Random Acts

Random acts of kindness?

Or...

Random acts of justified anger?

My hubby and I were discussing this on our way to his workplace today.

When a person in another car stops to let you out, should you wave or get angry?

My point was that it's a kind thing -- whether or not the person meant it to be so, doesn't matter. I always wave when I think the person was being nice.

My hubby's point was that sometimes it's just stupid, especially if it isn't safe to stop or safe for the someone to come out.  If it's the person's right of way, then take it. I totally understand and get that.

But it was a definite "hmm" moment.

I went on to say that I think kindness needs to be shown and shared. How else can we teach our kids to emulate this character trait and later share it as an adult?  And how else can we make our world the "better place" we all long for?

A few posts ago, I wrote about peace on earth. I said I think we look for it in the end of wars, with a nicer government (with lower taxes, or at least more fiscal responsiblity), with fewer guns, and less bullies.

None of those brings peace, not the true lasting peace we wish for.

That peace starts with us and our attitudes, with our hearts belonging to God and letting Him shine through us in our actions and reactions to others.

Peace starts at home -- not with the other family members first, please -- in our very own heart of hearts.

We have to determine to be kind -- no matter how others treat us -- and to treat others nicely -- even when they're rude to us.

Why?

To show the next generation that kindness does actually exist beyond the storybooks we read to them as preschoolers.

So sometimes that's means giving a wave to someone who has been kind -- even when it wasn't necessary...or very smart.

That's why these acts of kindness are called "random," right?

A Disservice to a Service...

When we think that kids in a youth group setting are a-okay because they come from a stable Christian home, we do them a tremendous disservice and make them feel unworthy of being in the group. We're saying: "You're okay. You don't need our help. So just join us in helping this poor person over here."

These kinds of kids don't have needs? They don't have hurts or stresses or requests that are worthy of our prayers?

Why? Because they seem to have it all together?

Hmm...

I had a professor in university once who said that we are all on the edge of insanity. Some are probably closer than others. But he's right. Everything -- good and bad -- that we encounter every day goes into our psyches. The news, the people around us, a book we're reading, a movie we recently viewed, the argument of a neighbor....

When we focus all our energies on the seemingly "bad and needy" kids in the group, we may actually be ignoring those who are more needy. When we love the "popular" and more lovable kids and ignore the quiet and "less lovable" kids, in essence, we've pushed the latter away, telling them that they don't matter.

Our service is to God. He sent His Son to love the unpopular and unlovable, and yet he didn't ignore anyone.

He calls us to do the same: LOVE EVERYONE.

Everyone deserves attention.

When a young person asks for prayer at youth group, that's a huge thing. It means making him/herself vulnerable to the thoughts and opinions of the others. It's not an easy task to do it, and yet it builds a foundation for future occasions when prayer might be needed. If she is rejected as a kid why would she ever make herself vulnerable as an adult?

How many of these kinds of students are now among the "walking wounded" adults in our churches? How many left and never came back?  If the place where God tells us to seek out help from fellow sinful men and women can reject us, ignore us, scoff at us, where can we go to find that kind of help and how can we ever trust mankind again?

Of course, we are told not to place our trust in man. God says to trust in Him and He will never let us down. But He does exhort us to "not give up meeting together." The old "spark and fire" story you heard in Sunday School.

Easy enough to do, right? How much harder that is to do in reality.

Challenge yourself to look for one seemingly normal soul at church and introduce yourself. Send a note of encouragement to someone you haven't seen in awhile. Ask someone who looks down if you can pray for them.

Become the people of GOD again...not the cheerleaders of the popular.

Intentional Slowness

I've crowed long and hard on here about how quickly time is going. Hours spin into days and then weeks and before you know it you're in a new month. Sigh.

But it wasn't always this way.

Um, Susie, you might want to rethink that, you say. Time has always been moving at the same speed...

Well, yes, but I've concluded that the amount of time you've already lived determines the speed, based on how much "life" has been in each day.

Wha'cha mean? you ask.

Well, when you're young -- say a mere 3 or 4 years old -- time is very slow because your experiences are very limited at that point. You don't have a lot in your mind yet -- active imagination or not.  Add in a bunch of years worth of memories and thoughts and experiences, and it begins to speed up a bit...i.e. through a crowded cranium.

Okay. Okay. So it's not necessarily scientific or completely logical, but it's there, even if I can't put my thoughts in exact words.

So I'm sitting in my living room this morning -- long before the world of "Feete" has begun to pitter-pat -- and I begin to think about it. How much unnecessary stuff crowds our lives? What are we doing that I didn't do when I was young?

The first thought that came to mind was technology.

While I grew up with a computer -- a Commodore 64 to start with -- from about 14 years old onward, we didn't have the Internet yet. We certainly didn't have the World Wide Web or streaming television or YouTube or Facebook or...or...or... Heck, we didn't even have e-mail yet.  I know my dad got a CompuServe account (it was a number back then), and he could post on "bulletin boards." Since I didn't do any of that, I have no idea what it was like.

So there was no pull from that arena when we were younger.

We played board games and yard games and went bicycling and listened to music and read books and wrote books and drew and colored and gardened and...and...and...

It was fun, and life felt...well, it felt slower.

So now I'm left wondering. Can we do the same for our children? Can we intentionally slow down life for them?

We've purposely kept them from doing too many extra-curricular activities to help preserve our family time during this short period of life called "childhood." They learn at home so there's no real homework...apart from, well, their actual schoolwork. But still the days fly by...so much so that we hit the ground running in the morning and don't stop until we 'round the bend at bedtime.

Sigh.

I know a few changes are on the horizon. It's just a matter of having the strength to follow through... I think it will prove to be the best of intentions.

A Thursday Thought...

Oh, Blog!

I'm so sorry for how I've neglected you.

I've been trying to get back in the groove, but it can be difficult trying to juggle all the other things I should be doing with my keen desire to write and "chat" with my fingers.

I could blame the infamous Facebook for stealing my thunder...but it is all my doing, since I seem to be lacking in the self-control department.

So I am back (again) and vow to stay put and....

I know. I know. You've heard it all before, and the silence has hurt you terribly.

In all honesty, it's hurt me, too. My head hurts from trying to keep all my thoughts in their places. (They get quite unruly sometimes.)

But can you give me one more chance? One more?

Yes?

O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!

.....

Okay. I'll stop now.....

(Yay!)

Thoughtful Thursday

“A story is a way to say something that can’t be said any other way, and it takes every word in the story to say what the meaning is. You tell a story because a statement would be inadequate.” 

~Flannery O’Connor

Choosing the Shelter

Dragging out my soapbox........

There are so many misconceptions about homeschoolers.

First of all, our family does not technically homeschool. We school at home.

I know. It seems to be a petty difference, but, believe me, homeschooling families do NOT see us the same. Nor should they.

We belong to a cyberschool, a public school that has all the schoolwork/classes supplied over the internet. Traditional homeschoolers actually plan and buy all their own curriculum. That's not to say we don't buy supplemental stuff. But anyone with school-aged children can do that.

Another misconception is that our kids are stupid.

Hmm... That's "real nice." Like me saying all public school kids are stupid, which I know is not true and would never say.

But, seriously, people think that. As if you can only gain knowledge through entering a school building.

To that I ask: Is everyone who is now walking around and not in school stupid because we're not actively learning in a building?!?

Um, yeah.  Sorry, Einstein and Edison and Beatrix Potter and all those other famous people who were homeschooled. You were all dumb.

We've spent a lot of time instilling the idea into our kids that we are learning all the time. You don't have to set aside a specific time to "do" school. Life is about learning. Otherwise, what happens when we graduate?

Case in point, our Edward (who is in 5th grade and learns on a 6th-grade level for all his math and English courses) was asked last year if he knew what a "legament" was. The boys on his soccer team had just (in 4th grade) learned about these and made a model using them. Edward was confused and said that he didn't. The one replied, "Oh, that's right. You're homeschooled."

Okay. Okay. Breathe. My blood began to boil at that since Edward did indeed know what LIGaments were since he had done anatomy lessons in 2nd grade... He'd just never heard of a LEGament. Hmm...who's the dumb one?

No one.

Everyone learns at a different rate and at a different level. It's easy to compare and feel a sense of pride that our kids are consistently learning above their peer groups. But they would be doing that in a school building, too. They're just smart. Some kids are; some kids aren't.

I'm never sure how to dispel the above ideas without sounding overly defensive about what we're doing. We know what they're doing/what they're learning. We understand it. Somehow other people don't; yet they feel the need to make judgments about it.

I have to wonder how many of these same parents really know and understand all that their own kids are learning.

We entrust our kids to a school with teachers who may or may not agree with our core values and beliefs. And how much are they actually learning in the course of a day?

I went to public schools (many different ones), and there was A LOT of busy work. Of course, I learned. But much of the time, when I should have been listening to the teacher's voice reading from a textbook or lesson plan, I spent drawing and writing. Did I learn anything? I guess so. But maybe I would have learned more at home just doing the schoolwork and then moving on to my art and writing? Who knows. Neither way is wrong. Just different. And in either system I would have learned.

The question we get most often is about socialization. What exactly is that? I mean, really. Isn't it just a buzzword somebody made up to sound educated?

Show me a homeschooler, and I'll show you a kid that can usually (not always) look you straight in the eyes and chat with you about just about anything. Edward, more so than Emily, is a bit shy at times. But we remind him to be polite. That doesn't happen with 90 percent of the kids I talk to who go to public or private schools.

And there's a difference between socialization and socializing.

Think about it.

When kids are in school are all the kids they are mingling with really the kind of kids you'd like them to be around? Where in life will you ever be with 30 people your same age? Maybe in a church or social group. But usually? Ding-ding-ding. That's right!  No where.

So they socialize (maybe not directly but within earshot) with kids who chat about sex and drugs and use words that would make your ears curl. They swap stories about their parents' sex lives or the latest episode of a show that they should NEVER be watching or an article on orgasms in Seventeen magazine. Or they share the lyrics to the latest Katy Perry or Lady Gaga songs.  Or, worse, they kiss each other. Girls to girls. Because, after all, Katy Perry did it and sang a song about it. They do it on TV shows...in color...so it must be okay, right?

Um...yeah.

So, while our kids know about all of this stuff and we have had many many great conversations about it all, we choose the shelter of staying away from it because we find it to be drivel. Mindless garbage.

And as Emily said to me, who would choose to live in a dumpster when you have a nice house to live in?

But we're not sheltered because of ignorance. We are sheltered by choice. We know all the worldly stuff that's out there, and we choose to stay away from that kind of thinking, to stay in the world but not of the world.

Our choice...not anybody else's.

I just wish others could respect that.

"Let there be peace on Earth, and let it begin with me..."

Winds of Change...and an Apology

So once again, the time has gotten ahead of me, and I'm behind on my blogging, and I'm so sorry.

Originally, I intended to keep this blog to clear my mind of random thoughts and record memories to share with my kids.

Five years on and how's it going? Hmm...

My last post was from August 10th. It's now September 22nd.  Need I say more?

To say that I've been busy would address most of the problem. To say that I just haven't made the time would fit in there, too.

Sigh.

So I'll fill in some of the fun events we've experienced between my last post and now...but I won't backdate them. I'll just reflect on them. Sound good?  That way I won't get further behind trying to catch myself up. You with me? Phew. Glad someone is.

Changes and changes and changes.

I don't do well with change.

I'm not sure if I just ODed on it when I was younger since we seemed to move every few years...or if it's just in my nature...or both....

But yesterday proved a bit stressful for me.  (I'll get over it quickly. I promise. *wink-grin*) Both Facebook and my email provider changed the format on their programs.

While I adapt fairly quickly to new things, I felt frustrated by these changes. I think the world around us is continually changing so it's nice for some things to stay steady. It's not much to ask...really.

Still, I know that I'll get used to both changes...in time for them to change again.

Oh, well. In my next life (if I believed in such things), I'll be a chameleon. It'll be so much easier.