As the World Gives

I do not give to you as the world gives. 

~ John 14:27

   I drive home and ponder the above words. It's been a week of pondering words - those others have said to us, to me, and words I've said to others. Words shape and define us. We can spend our whole lives trying to overcome words, because ultimately actions follow words and words follow actions and words become us, and we become words. Words: it all started with the Word, and that word: it was good.

  I do not give to you as the world gives.

   And I wonder about the words my children are ingesting in this world. What are they are hearing and what they are reading? More than ever, we are engaged in the words they ingest because one day they will become these words and carry words into the world.

   We have been caught up in the much acclaimed story, Wonder, over the past few weeks. We have listened by audio to the gripping story of a boy with a deformed face. The story has been incredibly moving, bringing tears to my eyes, and yet there are parts of this book I loathe.

   Is it normal for today's kids to play Dungeons and Dragons, and have Halo, a first person shooter game, voted best killer app, on their computers? 

   God help us. God help us that we normalize violence for our kids in our books and in our homes. They come home asking for it, and we cave. God help us.

   Dear R.J. Palacio,

   WHY DO YOU SUBTLY NORMALIZE VIOLENCE IN A BOOK ABOUT OVERCOMING BULLYING AND VIOLENCE! 

   EVERY WORD is PIVOTAL. Words INFLUENCE us. We are them. They are us. What we fill our minds with, is who we are. Wake up!

   THERE ARE CONSEQUENCES. 

   I listened to OPB this morning and the polls about gun violence, and the majority of people believe our mass shootings come from mental illness.

   WHERE EXACTLY IS THAT MENTAL ILLNESS COMING FROM? 

   COULD WE START BY ADDRESSING OUR VIDEO GAMES, and the words we let our kids read that normalize this violence? Very few of these mass shooters are older people. They are young people raised in a culture of violent gaming. But we don't/won't talk about that!

   We bring violence into our homes. Why do we shake our heads and Wonder at the outcome? Our own Halo's are truly gracing our heads. 

I do not give to you as the world gives.

Here is a real Wonder story happening in Oregon very near you. 

This story is all about what God gives. 

All About Vladik

   This is what the world gives...

   The school librarian recently chided my middle schooler for reading The Count of Monte Cristo (full edition, 1,000 pages long), encouraging her to read more age appropriate materials. I wasn't there, I didn't hear, but when she brings home dangerous fluff (there is such a thing) and puts down the Count at 500 pages into her story because of some librarian's words, you can bet there will be words spoken and words pondered. Thank you librarian for causing us to stop and think, yet again, about what we read and put in our minds. My mama/teacher feathers may have been ruffled for a moment, but you did us a service, and we were reminded...

I do not give to you as the world gives.

   As so as I drive home, I ponder His words and His reminder to me, and I ponder one more story about a girl, but her story is my story, and your story too. It's a story about a girl that's beginning a trek. She's trekking to find a homeland.

   My prayer for you dear girl, is that you know: He does not give to you as the world gives. As you seek answers, therapies, love, hope, and family, may you be led to resources that speak truth, freedom, light, love, and joy. May you find Him. Because every therapy we seek for our broken souls, apart from Him, will never fully heal us. Apart from the One Great Soul, we will always be looking for the wholeness, that deep down, we know exists, and it does exist, dear girl. It does exist. There is a giver of peace.

And He does not give to you as the world gives.

Wordless Wednesday, Well Not Really

     We are up to our ears in school, soccer, art, FLL robotics, and now chemistry classes, but as October passes, the fall schedule shall settle down. Right now, we are soaking up warm fall days and lots of learning.

   I'm writing, but not here much. A lovely writer friend deposited a book in my hand about Thomas Nuttall that I'm delving into. I'm grateful for this hard to obtain reference book on his life. I've no more excuses for procrastination station!

    Pictures are from Smith Rocks while on a less than 24 hour birthday bash adventure. I managed to get myself up Misery Ridge on Sunday morning; it's been a while. Monday was great, but Tuesday I felt the burn and ache!

  Oh! I must share. I have a new favorite CD by The von Trapps! We were blessed to catch them in a free concert last Friday in Portland before chemistry class, and then a sister-in-law's delicious dinner under the stars.

   Love their stuff! Yes, they are related to those Von Trapps!

The Sun Rises Again

    Up in the night, I grappled with the gods of Isaiah 46 and the God who sustains me. This business of salvation, of deliverance, is and must be, new each morning.

   Each new morning, I am invited to embrace God, and to leave behind the gods who are failing our broken world. Today, He still offers you and me another way.

   And let us remember that man's brokenness and evil in the world, will never ever surpass God's hope. Hope, love, joy, and truth will one day win. They will.

   As the sun rose again this morning, pink on the horizon, so too, are God's mercies new every morning. But we must carry these mercies to the hurting, even while we are hurting shattered vessels. 

   While He yet mends us, may His love pour from our shattered places.


   And let us never forget that God's heart throbs, screams, and aches with ours, and still, He invites us to create with Him each new morning. We are called to be creators under the light of His sun, through the light of His Son.

   What are we creating, living, and breathing today that brings His hope into a shattered throbbing world?

  I needed Tonia's words today.  Maybe you do too?

Eavesdropping Elections

   Why is everyone talking about Donald Trump anyway?

    Because they can't predict the weather anymore. Politics and weather have always been something we predict, and the weather is more unsettled these days; no one can predict it. And if you want to talk about politics, just ask anyone about Donald Trump.

    Why? Because he's a weird, or because he doesn't know much?

    They listen to him because they want to believe the myth that America could be great, is great, if it was just different. Or, they believe the myth that our nation was once great, but that myth ignores what we've done to our own people and our history of slavery. No one wants to talk about the fact that every school in our town is Title 1, because more than 50% of kids are near the poverty line, or talk about a nation that took over land from Native Americans, and is still not meeting treaty obligations we signed. Even today, we say America is great.

Why don't we pay them?

    Because the money has to come from somewhere, and theirs is a myth that America is great and people like to believe that myth, and not face what they've done. People like to place their fears in other people instead.

    There was a leader once that became strong and significant because he led people to believe he could make their economy strong again. That was Hitler.

   Other nations pushed Germany into collapse after WW1. People lost their homes, their money, their jobs, and schools were failing. Hitler rose up and said, "I'll make our economy strong," and he gave them someone to blame for their troubles. He said, "We'd be great, things would be great, if we were all like me."

   He was elected into office, and not because he was stupid. His ideas were dangerous, but he wasn't an idiot. If you understand human nature you can manipulate it.

   Don't ever laugh about Donald Trump. He's kind of a funny guy, but never make the mistake of thinking that he's stupid. People like him are likely smarter than us; because their ideas are dangerous, and we buy into them as a nation.

*Overheard this weekend.

Row for the Cure Portland

  We headed to Portland on Sunday for Row for the Cure. A great race, even if a bit chilly. It's time to pack some extra gear for warmth in the back of the car!

   We took our Willamette University Tomadachi (friendship) student with us to Portland, and after the race, we went to Powell's for book buying and selling, and then hit up the PDX food carts for lunch. Brother and me* had fried chicken breast on waffle with maple syrup.

   There was quite a lot of grumping and whining, and we were all exhausted by 4 p.m.. Most napped in the car. We've learned that after a Safe Families hosting to keep things low key, but there wasn't a thing we could do about that this past weekend, as the race was scheduled long before the hosting.

   Sometimes you just have to deal, give it your best, and hope for a better day next time. As J said of his race, "Well, we gave ourselves a time to beat."

   After Portland, we headed west to Beaverton for Uwajimaya for some shopping and ended up leaving a bunch of our groceries there. Did I say we were tired or what! They were great about it, and are giving us a credit upon return. It was Koi Festival weekend and we saw fish, some brilliantly gold, worth $10,000! That was pretty cool.

~ Kim

*See Confessions of a Comma Queen!

Double Rainbows of Grace

    What do you do when the morning greets you with sheer joy? You open wide your arms to embrace the new light coming forth, pink in its wake. You run for the camera. You catch it.  And far too early, you wake children so you can see their smiles open wide with beams of wide stretching hope. And when a 4 year old asks where that rainbow comes from you say, "Water, light and God's heart." It's a sufficient, if simple, answer at an early hour.

    In the midst of a very short Safe Families hosting and feeling blessed. We learn and receive so much by these breathing blessings that come into our lives. 

   Today, I having been pondering the Pope's words with a 4 year old in the back seat. At 4, he knows nothing of the Pope, but he knows he's having a great time, and he has new boots for stomping around after stubborn stray lambs. 

  Sometimes new boots and stubborn little lambs make you feel alive.

You know?

   I've had no great epiphanies today, only rain drops and laughter, cookies and kids. It's been a lovely day. Last night I was pondering children: what to teach them and what to share. These thoughts grabbed me among the bolts of lightening and rolls of thunder in the night.

    I think and I wonder, if the two most powerful things we will ever do for our children will be to teach them about God's love for them, and to get them a library card. Then, maybe, just maybe, one day we will add a third most important thing - having involved our family in helping families in crisis in and around our community.

   Grace guide us on the way. We will soak up every single rainbow You send. We stand astounded at Your double rainbows, and all the hope that falls in rain drops around us. 

~ Kim 

Modern Blood Letting

   "I like my needles small and blunt!" she yells while waving Hercule Poirot in his face.

   Is she going to pound the poor lab technician with the 4 pound tome?

   One never knows. What she will do. Staring down a blood draw.

   She's already informed him, "Don't count it down for heaven's sake! I don't need to know when you are going to put that thing in me, and don't use a butterfly!" 

   "What is a butterfly?" I wonder to myself.
  
    He ignorantly asks, "Who's the author?"

    "Agatha Christie! Can't you see it right on the front of the book?" she demands.

   The tome does indeed sit about 4 inches from his eye balls, but a 12 year old with a book dagger she's thrusting to and fro, with fists clenched and eyes of fire, can be a bit distracting, if not intimidating.

   These blood draws, I abhor.

   This time around, we put a small dab of lidocaine on her arm. Yet in the chair, her mind is one focused pain processor; you would not have known she was numbed. Sheer panic, a vice-like grip, and eyes that could mash a rose bud to bits, flare from an upturned chin and less than stiff upper lips.

    For a brief moment, okay two, as I re-position my body to the other side of hers, I wonder if she will kick him in the shins. I really don't think she will bite. Would she?

    Ten herculean minutes later, the dreaded task is accomplished, and the poor technician is as flustered as I. Palatable is the blood pressure rise in the roughly 4' x 4' room.

    In rare form, she begins to instruct him on the care and keeping of his lab.

   "You need to keep horse bandages in stock, sparing people sticky tape on their arms." She commands. 

    "Wilco," I say. "At Christmas. It's cheap. Really cheap. Can be used for many things." I only want to move on and move out.

    The curtain is moved aside, and the guy in the blood letting stall next door, stares dumbfounded. Could that tiny bit of darling make all that noise?

   Yes, indeed. That was us, in our local lab tonight.

    After dinner she tells her father, "It went great! Best blood draw yet."

   I silently sip my glass of red wine. 

   But bingo! I realize the lab is open 24 hours. Next time, they can have a father daughter bonding experience.

   As for the bloody battle's results? We expect fabulous results - just not in the lab chair.