It seems that life and death have been very present to me lately. I guess it began with the seemingly premature death of Michael Billings. Then on Sunday I was privileged to be a part of something I had never participated in before. Something, in fact, that I had never heard of before. On Sunday our church family and many others gathered for a memorial service for the tiny baby of our friends.

What was unique about this service is that this baby was only about 8 weeks into his or her development. But at 8 weeks gestational age it was no less a person than you or I, and it’s parents wanted to honor and recognize the personhood of their baby.

Our pastor preached a wonderful sermon on Joy in a Fallen World. He reminded us of the joy we have even in our sufferings, and the strength and power our testimony gains when the Lord has brought us through trials.

Then there was a very moving "graveside" service and the burial of the little baby.

What a wonderful time of healing for the parents. What a wonderful testimony about the value we, as Christians, place on life. So many women suffer miscarriages and don’t feel free to grieve the loss of the babies they never knew as deeply as they would the loss of born children. So many people act as though miscarriage is a more of a medical procedure or illness rather than the loss of a child. Not a child that was to be, but a child that was. I’m grateful that I was allowed to be a part of it.


Her First Recital

She played "O Come Little Children," and she was wonderful.


hypocrisy: an expression of agreement that is not supported by real conviction

When we pass laws that allow the death of unborn children to be called murder, but we continue to call those same unborn children a mass of cells so their mothers can kill them without repercussion, we are HYPOCRITES.

Yesterday in the van I heard that there is man who is facing 99 years for murder if he is convicted. Who is he charged with murdering? The pre-born baby his girlfriend was carrying. HUH??

He is accused with slipping her a mickey in the form of RU-486, the morning after drug. They found traces of it in a drink he prepared for her. It was her second miscarriage in 10 months, and apparently he is implicated in the first as well.

Now, I agree that he should face the same penalty for causing the death of a pre-born child that he would if that child had been born. But I am choking on the irony. If she didn't want the baby, she could have trotted down to the local abortionist and there wouldn't have been a thing he could do about it. A pre-born baby is just a mass of cells until it's momma loves it. Then it magically becomes a baby. Maybe we think babies are a lot like the velveteen rabbit, and only the love of a mother can bring them to life.

But oh! The horror, the unfairness, the tragedy, of daddy snuffing out the life of his child when he finds it doesn't really fit into his plans. The murder of pre-born babies is strictly reserved for Mom. The dad of the inconvenient child is just expected to pony up the cash, either to the abortionist or in the form of child-support payments. Her choice. Hypocrites.

It's another one of the wonderful gifts that feminism has brought to us. And if you still think feminism has been good for women, I've got a bridge I'd like to sell ya ;)


Gifts from Above

Let me just apologize in advance for the way everything is running together. Blogger seems to have a glitch and I am out of time to figure it out :)

Hmmm, what's that you say? Why is she showing us a picture of art supplies? Who cares??? Well, these are not any ordinary art supplies, these are my encouragement. And my children's encouragement and blessing.
The story you say?!? You don't get it? Well, we are home from our 3 week trip to visit family in CA and AZ. A trip which entailed several long days in a car with a screaming baby. (Although, the last leg of that trip was much happier due to a bottle of chamomile tea sweetened with stevia for the baby and earplugs for me.)

Anyway, we came home to the whirlwind of December violin recitals, piano recitals and concerts. There were (are) clothes to buy, lessons to attend, and no food in the house. So, we set out to remedy the situation. Haircuts, violin lessons, several stores and several hours later the general attitude was whiny, hungry, and cranky. And the kids weren't in a good mood either! :)

I am exhausted and working hard to keep everyone cooperating and civil. We stop at Costco to eat dinner (cheap!) and pick up a few things. We have just enough time before they close. I order a pizza and settle in for the 20 minutes it's going to take the thing to cook. But hey, at least someone else is cooking it :)
So, there we are at our little table. Eli wanted the one with the umbrella but it wouldn't hold us, Ezra wanted a hot dog instead of pizza, someone looked at Sierra wrong, Ty wants to nurse, and mom wants to crawl in bed with a pint of Ben and Jerrys; and this isn't even the last stop.
I get up to fill drink cups and this older woman, dressed all in purple, approaches me. "Hi! I'm a teacher," she says. Uh oh... "Your children are so adorable and sweet, can I give them these pencils?!?" "Sure, they'll love them." "Oh, and there is a website listed on the pencils where you can get information about our reading program!" "GREAT!", I say. (no, I'm not going to add a sarcastic comment. Jeesh!)
So, back to the table I go with pencils all around. Seeing the sweet, adorable children a little clearer.
About 15 minutes later, as their sweetness is beginning to fade into grumpy hunger, another woman approaches. "Excuse me," she says to this nursing mama. "Yes," I say with a smile that conveys a lot more good cheer than I am feeling. "I have never done this before, but I have been watching your children and they are so cute and well behaved. I have just really been enjoying them and I thought how nice it would be for them to have this, and I wanted to give it to them!" "Wow! Thank you so much, that is such a blessing!"
And "this" of course, is the above art set.
The children were thrilled and the rest of the time flew by with much improved dispositions. I wish I had told both of those woman how the Lord had used them to encourage me. And I'm grateful he used us to encourage them. But I so wish I had praised the Lord to those ladies, and not just to my children. I really need to work on having His praises always on my tongue.
Oh, and just to round out our Costco experience. As we were clearing up our trash a man called me over. "Excuse me? Miss?" "Yes?" "Are you Pentacostal?" Huh!! "Umm, no.." "Oh, those girls in dresses and stuff. I thought maybe you were Pentacostal." "Oh. No, we're baptist actually." "Huh, Southern Baptist, no doubt!" "No. Actually we're Reformed Baptist." "Huh. Well you have a great family. Great testimony for dresses." ummmm "thanks."
All in all, Costco was quite an eventful stop for us. Our steps were a little lighter as we left. We were grateful to the Lord for His blessing and encouragment. And we left to spread the gospel of dresses. Not!