I realize that I may offend someone with this post, but unless you respond on here, I won't see it for a few days. That is because I plan to take a break from Facebook for a while. I am grieved and heart sick over the tragedy in Connecticut yesterday. I have spent a lot of time in prayer, on my knees, and in tears. I have not watched much of the news coverage (except for a few minutes while waiting for the baby to get stitched up). However, my newsfeed has been flooded with information to which I feel I should not be privy.
I saw a list of the victim's names on my newsfeed tonight. I paused on each name as I focused only on the first names and their birthdays. I saw that most were very close to my youngest son's age. Then, I stopped myself. How is this information necessary? How is it my business? How can I even remotely think I can relate because my son, who is sleeping peacefully in his bed, was born in the same year? I sickened myself.
I cannot pretend to know how I would feel about this were I a parent or family member of a victim. I simply know that it really upset my spirit to see it. As far as I'm concerned, there is only one name that makes any difference in this situation. Only one name I need to know or speak. Only one name that can offer any peace. Only one name that knows the hearts and minds of each person affected and who holds their loved ones in His arms. That name is Jesus. Cry out to Him!
I will not be made to feel bad because my prayers are the only thing I can offer to the families affected. I will not enter into any sort of debate/discussion about gun control or how we need more/less laws/security/money/government etc. All we need is more Jesus. I choose to step away from the newsfeed and pray.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
Friday, December 7, 2012
Ninjas and Grannies
After sending the kids and their cranky pants off to school (sorry teachers!), the little two and I headed out to run errands and do some shopping. Next, we headed over to gymnastics open gym. It was about 890 degrees and smelled horribly like feet and cat urine. But, as grossed out and hot as I was, the girls had a great time.
E was jumping and running and playing and B was chasing the big balls and trying to keep her balance on the squashy floor. I had sat down at one end of the "floor" and B had wandered to the other side. I realized (a little late) that she was about to wander right into a bigger boy swinging on the rope swing. I got up and sprinted across the floor (my heart was pounding--or maybe that was my feet banging on the floor--that's incredibly loud) leaping over little toddlers as I went. I dodged the boy on the rope swing like Mr. Anderson in the Matrix dodges bullets as he went behind me. Then, I grabbed B right before he would have hit her on his return. I am a ninja. Just ask the other pre-school open gym mamas that witnessed my glory.
Then, I snuggled her and pulled up my almost-too-tight-jeans that were fighting all day with my muffin top for position. The muffin top won in my all-out sprint. Maybe I should sprint a bit more so my pants don't fall down...should have worn some ninja spandex. I'll make note for next week.
So, after my heart rate came back down and open gym was over, we headed to lunch. We decided to try a new soup, sandwich and salad place. It was kind of packed and had no available tables, but we thought we'd try it anyway since we were out of the car and in the restaurant--that's half the battle right there. After asking for an allergen sheet soas to avoid eggs for B, it took quite a while to figure out what we were going to order. Then, we ordered, paid and got our drinks. As we were waiting for our food, a couple of guys cleared their table and told us that we could have it--so nice! E was hovering while they were clearing out, and I called her back and asked her to give them a moment to leave. As I called her back, the 2 ladies behind me swooped in and took our table. I took a quick breath, said a prayer and stood with baby in arms, a pre-schooler famished from her gymnastics workout hanging on my pant leg and all our food waiting for another table while the women at "my" table finally got their food.
At another table, two women stood up. I asked if they were leaving, and they said yes and that they would be happy to give me their table. Thank you, God. I put down our drinks, then walked across to get a high chair. Then again to get the food. I then got dirty looks from the people behind me as she loudly said (while walking to our table) "Well, someone is taking this table." I did not respond, but in my mind I am thinking "I have 2 small children who are behaving incredibly well as they wait for their food. I was here before you and those other ladies for that matter, so you can just put a sock in it and wait your turn. Who do you think you are, and what entitles you to get a table and cop an attitude before me?"
My mind returned to a moment a few weeks ago at the grocery store where the little girls and I were checking out and the grandma behind us said "You should let me go first" as we were readying to leave the store through the breezeway. I smiled and said "Sure! Go right ahead!" Then, she finished her sentence "because you are just taking WAY too long!" Okay, simmer down, grandma. I just let her go ahead and laughed to myself. Then, she stood outside the door getting her rain hat and umbrella ready before she went to her car. I had the girls in and the groceries loaded into the car before she left the stoop. Too slow indeed!
Back to today, we sat and ate our luke-warm, overpriced meal and I tried to have a good attitude for the girls. E said she didn't like the place. I couldn't disagree. I wasn't exactly grumpy about it, but I was thinking about it for a while when that word, entitled, came back to me as God held up a mirror to my heart. I was the one who was acting entitled (in my heart anyway). I was the one thinking that someone should have helped me. Did it even cross my mind that someone should have given up their table? I am ashamed to say it did.
I have 5 kids. I had 2 with me today. That doesn't make me better than anyone else. That doesn't entitle me to more (or less). I didn't say much on the outside, but E could sense how I was feeling and that wasn't a great example for her. I am thankful we got a table and had lunch. I will probably not go back there, especially not on a Friday at lunch time. I will try to keep a better attitude and set a better example when we're asked to wait next time. I wouldn't want to be a righteous granny basher.
E was jumping and running and playing and B was chasing the big balls and trying to keep her balance on the squashy floor. I had sat down at one end of the "floor" and B had wandered to the other side. I realized (a little late) that she was about to wander right into a bigger boy swinging on the rope swing. I got up and sprinted across the floor (my heart was pounding--or maybe that was my feet banging on the floor--that's incredibly loud) leaping over little toddlers as I went. I dodged the boy on the rope swing like Mr. Anderson in the Matrix dodges bullets as he went behind me. Then, I grabbed B right before he would have hit her on his return. I am a ninja. Just ask the other pre-school open gym mamas that witnessed my glory.
Then, I snuggled her and pulled up my almost-too-tight-jeans that were fighting all day with my muffin top for position. The muffin top won in my all-out sprint. Maybe I should sprint a bit more so my pants don't fall down...should have worn some ninja spandex. I'll make note for next week.
So, after my heart rate came back down and open gym was over, we headed to lunch. We decided to try a new soup, sandwich and salad place. It was kind of packed and had no available tables, but we thought we'd try it anyway since we were out of the car and in the restaurant--that's half the battle right there. After asking for an allergen sheet soas to avoid eggs for B, it took quite a while to figure out what we were going to order. Then, we ordered, paid and got our drinks. As we were waiting for our food, a couple of guys cleared their table and told us that we could have it--so nice! E was hovering while they were clearing out, and I called her back and asked her to give them a moment to leave. As I called her back, the 2 ladies behind me swooped in and took our table. I took a quick breath, said a prayer and stood with baby in arms, a pre-schooler famished from her gymnastics workout hanging on my pant leg and all our food waiting for another table while the women at "my" table finally got their food.
At another table, two women stood up. I asked if they were leaving, and they said yes and that they would be happy to give me their table. Thank you, God. I put down our drinks, then walked across to get a high chair. Then again to get the food. I then got dirty looks from the people behind me as she loudly said (while walking to our table) "Well, someone is taking this table." I did not respond, but in my mind I am thinking "I have 2 small children who are behaving incredibly well as they wait for their food. I was here before you and those other ladies for that matter, so you can just put a sock in it and wait your turn. Who do you think you are, and what entitles you to get a table and cop an attitude before me?"
My mind returned to a moment a few weeks ago at the grocery store where the little girls and I were checking out and the grandma behind us said "You should let me go first" as we were readying to leave the store through the breezeway. I smiled and said "Sure! Go right ahead!" Then, she finished her sentence "because you are just taking WAY too long!" Okay, simmer down, grandma. I just let her go ahead and laughed to myself. Then, she stood outside the door getting her rain hat and umbrella ready before she went to her car. I had the girls in and the groceries loaded into the car before she left the stoop. Too slow indeed!
Back to today, we sat and ate our luke-warm, overpriced meal and I tried to have a good attitude for the girls. E said she didn't like the place. I couldn't disagree. I wasn't exactly grumpy about it, but I was thinking about it for a while when that word, entitled, came back to me as God held up a mirror to my heart. I was the one who was acting entitled (in my heart anyway). I was the one thinking that someone should have helped me. Did it even cross my mind that someone should have given up their table? I am ashamed to say it did.
I have 5 kids. I had 2 with me today. That doesn't make me better than anyone else. That doesn't entitle me to more (or less). I didn't say much on the outside, but E could sense how I was feeling and that wasn't a great example for her. I am thankful we got a table and had lunch. I will probably not go back there, especially not on a Friday at lunch time. I will try to keep a better attitude and set a better example when we're asked to wait next time. I wouldn't want to be a righteous granny basher.
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