As I sat watching the glow of fireworks as they erupted in the air, I couldn’t help but give thanks.
There has been more division the last few years than I have ever known in my lifetime. Did everyone really feel free in 1776? Are people still bitter about this past year on nights with celebration of our country? Is democracy going to disappear? People felt the same fear when Social Security Numbers began. Do we know the truth of anything in the news anymore?
These are just thoughts I have related to the 4th of July! Let’s not even get into my thoughts of every day living.
But I am thankful regardless. I am still filled with gratitude because I am a citizen of the greatest country on the planet. I am thankful to be in this moment, today.
Ultimately, I’m thankful that regardless of all the division and unknowns today my eternity is secured. In that place, it’s not going to matter whether you’re American or not. So we can put aside the disagreements, and celebrate what we have been given, knowing it’s not our ultimate hope.
“No matter what happens in our lives, if we’re under the reign of Christ, victory is secured”. -Melissa Kruger
I’ve been cleaning stuff out today and stumbled upon the only picture I kept of our daughter’s sister (whom we affectionately refer to as Magnolia). For months after meeting her, I kept everything as it was and didn’t touch anything. Then once that time had passed (much to my now regret), I got rid of every picture and item except for this picture.
I was up until about 2 in the morning a couple nights ago, listening to sermons and crying over the division in the world, and Christians alike, over the racial problems that still exist in the world today. My eyes (and heart) were opened when we spent those couple weeks in Wisconsin. Much of our time was spent in the black and brown neighborhoods up there. I saw differences like I have never seen in my small town Kansas.
I still sometimes question why we went through what we did with Magnolia. And when I was up late that night, it came to me that maybe it’s because that experience shaped something in me that’s irreversible. It makes me sad because I feel this situation is a great opportunity to love others and have conversations. I also feel that a good discerner of a Christian heart is how much they love. “God is love, and all who live in love live in God”, after all. (I didn’t make that up, it’s from the Bible).
Then this morning I was thinking about the story of The Good Samaritan in Luke. The priest walked by a person who had been beaten and left on the road. (If you didn’t know, if someone helped a person like that in those times they would be considered unclean by cultural standards). The priest lacked compassion for this neighbor of his, even though he had all the theological training to be a priest. Then a Levite walked by, and did the same. But a Samaritan (you could say Half breed), walked by and helped him. He didn’t question what he did to get himself in that position. He didn’t pepper him with questions about his life, he just helped.
It doesn’t help the person on the road (or in the sketchy parts of town) to love them at arms length. Or to yell some Bible verses as you pass by. It’s going to get messy. It’s going to be costly.
But, according to Jesus, this was the answer when asked “who is my neighbor”. So I’m going to do the messy work…gladly. Because there’s a girl I loved the moment I saw her and while she didn’t end up being my physical child, she’s my neighbor.
My youngest daughter, who is now 6, has struggled with asthma her entire life. We’ve been to several specialists. She has been tested for so many things. We don’t have any certain answers for what triggers it, or how to keep it from coming, but we do know how to kick up which medicines when her asthma flares up.
The last couple of days she has been coughing a lot (which is usually the first sign it’s about to start bothering her). So we have began our additional medicines on top of her daily ones and doing breathing treatments until her breathing seems better.
Now that she is older she vocalizes how tired she is of being sick, how annoyed she is that she has to stop whatever she is doing every few hours to sit and do a 30 minute breathing treatment. Thirty minutes is an eternity to a 6 year old. As soon as she woke up this morning, I got her machine ready and told her she could lay in bed while she did it.
Once her treatment was completed, she came out to the living room and stated “WHEN I’M IN HEAVEN I WON’T EVER BE SICK ANYMORE!” This declaration stopped me in my tracks.
The last couple of days have been stressful in our home: lack of time, cars breaking down, a million things needing done, etc. But there will come a day where we don’t have to be stressed any more. There will come a day we won’t experience sickness anymore. (It never was God’s original plan for us to experience it any way). This is all temporary.
Knowing this is all temporary leads to hope. Hope gives us joy. Romans 12:12 “Rejoice in hope, patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer”.
We’re told all the time what makes someone beautiful, or what doesn’t. We buy magazines telling us how we should dress, tricks to get abs fast, the most stylish haircuts, and the list could go on.
On the reverse of that, now with social media, I see a trend that calls for us to show all the things we don’t like about ourselves or point out all our flaws so people feel better about theirs.
For the most part I’m comfortable with who I am. I’ve never felt like I’m perfect, actually never felt the need to achieve that. But as always, at the beginning of swimsuit season I find myself comparing myself to others. I’ve always had a bigger bottom half. Most of the time I love it, some times it gives me good jokes, but occasionally I catch myself yearning for what some one else has.
I don’t believe the answer to this is looking more inwardly at myself, or going to extremes to change myself. I believe God makes us, in our mother’s womb, all different to show His glory. The problem with focusing on myself is the fact that my feelings change. When I’m exercising I love how strong my legs are. When I see other women with space between their jean shorts and legs I’m not as fond of them.
How boring would life be if we all looked the same? Beholding the beauty of something new for the first time is an amazing thing. I will always remember the first time I saw the ocean or a mountain, or even my babies faces. God purposely made everything and one different-and His feelings on the subject never change. He is who He is all the time. So when I’m doubting myself, I remember He didn’t make a mistake when He made each one of us. When faced with feelings of doubt, we need to reorient ourselves to His truth, not our own.
When we first moved to our house, the hubs wanted to cut down all the trees and bushes surrounding our creek and pond. I convinced him otherwise, because how would my bird friends come to visit me if they had no where to stay? (Yes, I’m 80).
This morning I was feeling overwhelmed so I went out to feel the sun peeking behind the clouds and watch the different birds flying between all the branches. Then I was struck by the dirt mound to my left.
Last week we had to bury our cat, Ashley. She was hit by a car in front of our house. (I’m going to have a rant about driving the speed limit and actually stopping when you hit an animal another time). We buried her before the kids got home from school, but our girls were hysterical nonetheless.
There are a few moments of the kids crying that are burned into my mind: them crying and saying goodbye to K’s little sister (when we attempted to adopt her), my oldest son crying on the first day of school (because it takes a lot to get him emotional), and how sad my girls were when we told them about Ashley.
I want to protect them from every pain possible. But I know that it is impossible. I also believe there is pain with purpose. I told the girls to mourn Ashley. I told T and C the same when we said goodbye to K’s sister. It is good that they learn to love things and people without conditions.
I think it’s realizing this chasm in life that you start to understand it, even just a little bit. There are and will be beautiful moments throughout your life, but there will also be pain. Let them change you and cause you to grow.
Occasionally sit in the remembrance of it. Knowing it’s all a part of your story, and it can all work for good.
“There’s not very many black people in the world”. I was sitting out in the back yard with my youngest daughter, who is black. I looked over at her, taken aback, and said “there may not be in this town, but there are a lot of black people in the world”. We live in a small town in the Midwest. It’s safe to say it’s not very diverse.
This is something I have always been conscious of. I knew when we adopted her it was going to take a lot of intentionality to make sure she felt well represented and not separate from other people around her. One of her brothers is adopted as well and is a different race from us also, which does help some.
We read every night before bed, and last night we read a book that was based in Africa. At the end of the book, it showed real pictures of African kids and families together. Guess what? One white person was in those pictures. I told my daughter that if we went and visited there I would be the one who stood out.
My husband and I also told her how we all more than likely came from some other country in our family history. That it just depends on which part of the world you’re in, as to what race the people will be.
I hate that she has moments of questioning her value. I can’t tell you the nights I’ve spent awake worrying about this. But I also know, her skin color isn’t her entire story. I will always do everything in my power to gain knowledge to help with the racial differences , I will show her unconditional love, and she will know in this family she always belongs.
But more than where she is now, I care where she’s going to be for eternity. This is the basis on which we live. We all feel like we don’t belong sometimes in this world. While my daughter’s are more visual, which causes more direct conversation about it, every one deals with it some times.
Her struggles won’t look the same as my struggles throughout life, but she belongs in this family. Because the family we will end up in eternally will be filled to the brim with different races, yet we will all be one family. For eternity, we will see and celebrate the differences in each other. I can’t wait for the day.
I have always been intrigued by the Civil War, slavery, and the fight for freedom. In Elementary School even, I was indignant when I learned some persons had to fight for a right that was given by God. It has always been an area of history that has captivated me.
Now in my 30s, we have visited many sights of the Civil War. I have read too many books to count (fiction and nonfiction) whose subject is that of slavery and/or the fight for freedom. I have watched numerous documentaries on it.
One thing that’s become more certain to me, is the more I learn, the more I have to unlearn. I think knowledge of History is essential in order to not repeat the same mistakes made in the past. However; I don’t think we study historical events in depth enough to consider ourselves always well-informed of historical events in their entirety. (That’s not easy for us to do in a time where we believe Google can make us all knowing on most any subject).
I have been reading “Behind The Scenes” by Elizabeth Keckley. She was a former slave who bought her freedom from her and her son. She made a name for herself by becoming the seamstress for Mrs. Jefferson Davis and Mrs. Lincoln. Yes, the former Confederate leader’s wife and President Lincoln’s wife as well. I will note that she did work for Mrs. Davis prior to Jefferson Davis becoming the leader of the Confederate Party.
Mrs. Keckley wrote this book in the latter part of her life, so she knew what came to be of the Davis’s. Yet, she spoke fondly of Mrs. Davis. One thing that strikes me most about this book (and others I have read referring to Mrs. Keckley) is that The North wasn’t necessarily accepting, with wide open arms, of those who became freed from the South.
In an excerpt from her book, she says: “The bright dreams were too rudely dispelled; you were not prepared for the new life that opened before you, and the great masses of the North learned to look upon your helplessness with indifference- learned to speak of you as an idle, dependent race”. Now I’m not sure about you, but I didn’t often give thought to the idea that freedman weren’t compassionately welcomed up North.
Often when we think of Slavery, we limit the problems to the South. Obviously there were issues in the South, but maybe they weren’t only in the South. This reiterates, that now, more than ever, we need to learn to be people of discernment.
Yes! Learn from history! Research it. Gain all knowledge you can. But don’t assume to know it in it’s entirety. Use the knowledge you gain and stories you read to try to do better for the future. In a time of everyone assuming to be knowledgeable on everything, realize we often don’t. It’s okay to sit on the uncomfortableness of it-that’s often where growth occurs.
I always tell my kids “you are in charge of your actions no matter how you feel”. From an early age, I wanted my kids to recognize that they have the ability to control their emotions, not the other way around. I always acknowledge their feelings and that the feelings are real, but that they are able (were legitimately born with the ability) to control them.
I fear we, as a society, have forgotten this as of late. I don’t agree with the idea of not discussing feelings. But when we put too much emphasis on the feelings themselves we fail to acknowledge that it is within our power to control them.
I used to play the clarinet. It was appropriate to tune the instrument and to move your fingers in certain ways in order to achieve the desired sound you wanted to come out of it. Much like my old clarinet; our emotions are things that we tune to appropriate responses to certain objects.
When we find our emotions heightened, we focus on the object that is producing that certain emotion. The focus of the situation should not be the emotion itself but the object causing that emotion. We, as human beings, have been born with the ability to control, and when appropriate, even train our emotions to respond appropriately to certain situations.
C.S. Lewis stated in “Abolition of Man” that “no emotion is, in itself, a judgment; in that sense all emotions and sentiments are alogical. But they can be reasonable or unreasonable as they conform to Reason or fail to conform. The heart never takes the place of the head: but it can, and should, obey it”.
Proverbs 14:29 states that “whoever is slow to anger has great understanding, but he who has a hasty temper exalts folly”. Folly is defined as a lack of sense, foolishness. Apparently understanding and knowledge leads to the ability to control emotions. A person who is quick to anger lacks sense.
I also feel it would be remiss to not mention that not all feelings are truth. Yes, once again, it is true that you may feel them, but because you are feeling them doesn’t mean they are true. Want proof of this? Come visit me towards the beginning of every month when that lovely lady friend is here for her monthly visit.
We are often stronger than we believe, and one of the strengths we contain is the ability to control our emotions.
My daughter had her last 2nd grade basketball game today. We played the other team from our school. This week going into it, I felt myself wanting to win more than anything. It was our home turf and I wanted to show that I was a coach who brought our kids to a higher level of basketball.
I don’t like the feeling of wanting to do something to please people, or doing something with others opinions in mind. Because of that, I spent the last week evaluating and reflecting my feelings and my whys. The root of my problem was pride.
Now, don’t misunderstand me. I am a competitive person. Aside from watching our kids play sports, our family spends a lot of time watching other sporting events and playing games together when we can. I also don’t think it’s bad going into a game wanting to win. But I wanted to keep in perspective that this is 2nd grade basketball. Kids genuinely get worn out of sports more and more and I think it’s because we forget that.
I also didn’t want to make their game about me. The girls can show improvement without winning. I often think character is better learned in the losses and hard times than if you are always ahead and never experience some heartbreak. Guess what? We didn’t win. Guess what else? I couldn’t have been prouder.
I’ve always told the girls to give 100%, which they did. And they did show improvement because we played the same team at the beginning of the year and the point difference was smaller.
But more than anything that involves me, basketball isn’t all I want for my girl. No sport is. It’s easy to get caught up in the moment, but when I take a step back and look at the big picture, I have such bigger aspirations for my baby than having a winning 2nd grade season. I want her to be someone of integrity, love, determination, grit, and learning. Sports help teach her those things. Focusing on myself doesn’t. Craving a score more than improvement doesn’t.
Living a life all about yourself, or myself in this case, actually causes you to lose yourself. If you aren’t someone of integrity, even in secret, you have a hard time knowing what you stand for or why. I want to be someone who stands for the same principles regardless of the situation. And at the end of the game, my girl had her siblings still cheering for her more than any one else, she still has our unending love, she still has her friends, and she had a calm mother who wasn’t caught up in my own issues but able to be there for hers.
Tonight while sitting at the dinner table, I asked the kids what are some ways they saw God at work today. Now, don’t start clapping; I don’t always remember these “all important questions”. I do try to do it when time allows/ when my mind isn’t too fogged to have moments of great questioning.
I said I was happy for the beautiful day God gave us today. The hubs did when he was able to help one of our friends in another town by us today. Number 2 child said she was happy for the weather as well. Number 3 said she saw God because she loved the breeze. The first born said he saw God because he won a poster from a drawing at the school book fair.
I know we don’t think those things are big enough to thank God for, like God doesn’t care about those minuscule parts of life. The poster is a funny story though. We gave each of our kids $20 for the book fair. The youngest told me what she wanted and I wrote it down for the teacher. The older two were told “this is how much you have, pick what you want”. My first born already had his eyes on a couple books (and he loves to read), so they won out against a LeBron James poster he wanted. We even sent him with extra money to school today for something else he needed in another class. He teased this morning how mean it was to give more money and him still not be able to get the poster. Then he brought home a poster today because he had won it in a school drawing.
Tonight we talked about how God would be good with or without giving us material things we want. But how amazing is it that God pays enough attention to the details that He will sometimes give us fulfilled desires, just because of His grace. Because He is a loving Father.
He gives us these little moments to help us see His goodness and love, as a gift. When we are in a situation or a time period of life where it may seem hard to believe God is paying attention, you can recall moments like this. Not because you need them to believe He is good. Not because He has to. Not because the material things matter one iota, but because the grace He gives us in life comes in many different forms.