December 17, 2012

• the meanness in me

  Like a moth to a flame, I am drawn to the news.  Elections.  The top 10 newsmakers of 2012 according to Maclean’s in the dental office.  War in Israel. School shootings.

  In times of tension and tragedy, we all have our ideas of how to make the world a better place.  Republicans in office.  Tougher gun laws.  Getting concealed weapons permits.  Prayer brought back to schools.  We’ve heard so many sides.  We feel like we’ve heard it all.  We nurse our own opinions.

  In the face of the horror of Friday, it feels insensitive not to speak of it.  But when we try, there is little to say.  At least for some of us. 

  I confess to being a silent lurker, way too interested in the facebook debates, shaking me head at all the opinions warring their way through cyberspace but returning again like the moth to the huge flame.  I’ve had times in my life of control when I refuse to follow the madness.  But right now I’m not being disciplined.

  I don’t have the audacity here to suggest solutions and proper responses.  For every word I write in this small space there have been a million more already said by people a lot more important than me.

  What I have to say is this:

  The meanness inside my own soul scares me most of all.

  Last weekend with the face of that young gunman burned in my mind, and firm resolves to hold my children closer and cherish life more, it raised its ugly head anyway.

  Like when the 10 year old I love the most complained for the 467th time about the 15 minute job of putting away a basket of clean laundry.  I wanted to shake sense into him–and hard.  For the 467th time.

  I fought over small things with Dan.  Like couldn’t he keep the little humans quiet for the 20 minutes that I read our bedtime book to the three oldest children?  I had done it for him over and over last winter when he read The Scarlet Pimpernel to them.

  And if I was a cursing person I would curse the messy container drawer and the irresponsible people who put away dishes and don’t care where they land.

  There were small irritations over the way we do our Christmas caroling.

  And self righteous shaking of my head over people and their strong ideas.  {In reality almost everyone is trying to find their way in the confusion like me.}

  There were frantic, laughing but also slightly bitter and confused prayers because the little 3 year old  has started to tell me that she doesn’t like me when I punish her.

  Strong willed teenagers sometimes have me clenching my fists.

  I nag too much and rant too often instead of quietly stating and sticking with my word.

  I don’t want to think of myself as an angry person.  But it lurks too close for comfort.

  Dan spoke in church on Sunday on the book of Philemon.  Paul writes to Philemon to convince him to accept and embrace his runaway slave, Onesimus, who not only ran away from his master Philemon, but also stole things from him.  Paul says that whatever wrong Onesimus has done or whatever he owes should be credited to his own account.  Just like Jesus imputes righteousness to us. 

  I need that imputation.  Badly.

  (I also told Dan that I needed imputed righteousness to get me out of bed this cold, dark Monday morning, but that is beside the point.)

  I need Jesus.  I need the forgiveness of my family when I apologize for the 1278th time.  I need grace to live unselfishly, to serve with joy.  I need the discipline to avoid the arguments yet the backbone to stand up for Christ. 

  Most of all I need His Love.  Just like the whole world does.

  I love these points from this post by aSeriesOfFortunateEvents:

  I’m NOT Going to:
  Stop believing in life after death. – John 3:16
  Expect more of people than I am willing to give of myself -Mark 12:31
  Say something negative when there’s no need for it- Proverbs 21:23
  Walk away from someone who needs something when I can give it to them- Matthew 25:40
  Waste opportunities for hugs, from anyone-Romans 12:10
  Focus on the bad things in life- Philippians 4:8
  Lose hope or faith- Hebrews 11:1
  Assume that I know more than God- Isaiah 55:9

   

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  It makes me feel bad when I see that people visit this blog and there are no new posts. 

  I’m floundering a bit with depression.  Floundering but still afloat.  I think.  I can’t seem to write and enjoy it like I did here.  I miss it.  I need the wisdom it takes to relax and not take my very serious self so seriously.

  Here is a bit of a post I wrote the other day.  Just because this one needs to be lengthened, you know.  And because I’d uploaded photos to go with it.

  Last night we watched I Really Absolutely Must Have Glasses.  (Watch and enjoy 10 minutes of Charlie & Lola.)  Natalia didn’t have school today and woke with a burning desire to make paper glasses.  Her first tries ended in frustration, so I helped cut the frames out of cardboard.

  “Oh Mom, you’re SO good,” they breathed as I cut them each a unique shape.

  

  “I’m gonna look cute, Andre’s gonna look awesome, and Tillie will look pretty,” said Liesl of the many words.

  

   Tim Horton’s holiday cups and doughnut bags are so cute that I saved them when we went there the first time for the season.  Now I should probably throw them away because I don’t know what to do with them.

  

   

  Yesterday I made three pans of lasagna for sewing circle by 8:00 a.m and we were all at school a few minutes before 9:00.  When I accomplish great things I always wonder why I don’t just make a habit of great accomplishments.

  I heard or read on the news at least three times that the duchess Kate was in the hospital for a few days with acute morning sickness.  Can you imagine the world knowing that detail of your life?   Imagine being the nurse who looks after the princess.  Imagine the life of the royal child.

  I wonder if Mary had morning sickness when she carried Jesus.

  Some years I let each of the children pick a special cookie recipe and we make it together for Christmas. It’s fun and gives us a nice little stash of treats. This Christmas I tried the unbaked fruitcake that Dan’s mom makes. I’m not a big fruitcake fan, but this recipe is extra special.

  Little fingers are playing Jingle Bells and Good King Wenceslas on the piano these days.

  Victoria was taking pictures of the sun shining through the condensation on the office window.

  

  This is good fun on a snowy day.

  

  Liesl wears this outfit every single day if I let her.  She thinks she is destined for stardom.

  

  And I am working on thee perfect green and gold Christmas dress for Victoria.  But the plaids will not line up.  Sometimes when I’m at the sewing machine I want to scream “MOOO….THERRRRR!!!!!!” very loudly.

  Peace to you all this Christmas.

   

   

   

   

  • 5:08 pm
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