Priorities

Ten years ago I heard a distractingly handsome doctor give a motivational speech. Ok, he was my husband.

He told a group of squirrelly teens that they needed to prioritize. Well, showed them.

He showed them how to fill a large jar. First he put in rocks, then pebbles, then sand, then water. The jar was not full until the water had been poured in. His point? Put the big things in first.

This morning I was up early contemplating a long list of chores–messy house, yard work, bills, medical appointments and school.

Got my blood pressure up just thinking about all that stuff to do, plan, clean.

Ugh.

I have to put the rocks in first. And for me the central stone is Jesus. I have to be still and know Him. Next is love, I need to minister to the hearts of my family.

After that may the mud fall where it may in the messy metaphorical jar of life.

Matthew 7:24-27 (NIV)
“Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. [25] The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. [26] But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. [27] The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash.”

Honey Bunch

Honey Bunch once wailed in the car for the greater part of a 5 hour trip because she was required to stop howling in order to get a burger. Talk about un-happy meals.

Honey Bunch once climbed on the roof yelling obscenities because she did not want to go….to the tennis court.

She actually did that more than once.

She once flipped out at a children’s park over shoes. Shoes are an extremely big deal for Honey Bunch. They are technically more important than mother. More important than love, you could say.

Cover

It is a simple enough word
Cover
A blanket over me
The cleft of a rock
A bit of plastic tenting
as the storm blows in
.
These angels,
Fierce angels
Stretch wings of splendor over our history of blood

Turn your head to the side little girl
To the past where we both came from
And imagine for a minute
A world without cover
The shadow of majesty
Passing over us
Leaving us all
alone

Message in a Bottle

Once a very wise person lost a child. Maybe children. He mourned because he loved them. so he came up with a plan. Put fire in the sky to guide them at night. Put smoke in the sky to guide them by day. Give them rules on something durable to keep them safe. Tell them from the beginning that you have a plan. Don’t worry, a plan of love.

Send messengers to remind them. Send someone like a son to find them. Document who you are and who they are. Leave a record of your love. Do everything because they are everything to you.

Understand that the story they are told about you may not be all true. Understand they may not want you in the end. Understand that no matter what no matter where no matter how, you will always love them. Because you are their dad. Because it is your nature.

Oh yeh, and write a book. Tell them in the book how much you love them. Pray they read it. Because it means everything.

If what i do ever seems a little crazy, remember that I am following that guy, that Wise Guy, so that one day I can tell my daughter face to face…

I have always loved you.

Worried about abuse?

So you know someone who you think might be abused or in a bad situation?

If there is any serious danger call the police.

If there are warning signs sufficient to file a report with cps, file it

If you just have a bad feeling…

Be very inquisitive
Be emotionally supportive
Do research to gain more information
Provide non-material (no $) support
Food
Clothes
A good ear
Simple kindness
Any way you show an abused person they are valuable is love
And love never fails

Losing the Triplets

November 13th, 1998 was an uncharacteristically beautiful day in Beaver, PA. I can remember the day verbatim because it was the day I lost you
Triplet B
Little one
Fifteen year old girl now
No matter what happens
I will always love you
My precious foster child
You changed everything
And losing you
Was like a total eclipse
Of the sun

Church for the stubborn hearted

We do the parable of the king who invites people to a wedding feast for his son. People ignore the invitation so he finds street people to come. There are some messengers hurt and killed in the process.

When the indigent dudes get ready for the clambake (uh, wedding) one is wearing his beat up, stinking work clothes. The king asks why he has not changed into the provided wedding clothes.

He was oppositional defiant and didn’t feel like it.

So he got kicked out into darkness with “weeping and gnashing of teeth.”

We talk about the messengers–prophets who told the truth and got hurt for it.

My daughter, who was five when we discovered and stopped what was happening to her, begins to tear up as she talks about the church and friends and family who could not handle our story.

We cherish those who did.

It is a hard thing to tell the truth and lose your community.

It is a harder thing to lie and lose your soul.

Answers for hard questions

I force myself to ask a mixture of hard and easy answers–
Do you like scary movies?
Do you do puzzles
Mixed with
Where is your anger
He has a self-effacing way of saying he used to “act up”
This is a little like saying Mussolini used to be into public oratory
So I ask
How is your anger (anyway)?
He says his psychologist
Tells him he is letting it out
(like a Jack Russell terrier roaming the cul-de-sac?)
…When he does ordinary things

It is gone now
the subtext
I am always reading the subtext

The Pittsburgh painted dogs

I like to think there is a multiverse somewhere where African painted dogs gorge themselves exclusively on dandelions.

And another where a hapless mother keeps her grip.

And another where the boy stays away from the railing.

But in one multiverse everything happens the same except there are no lawyers and the adults are very brave.

It is as though they had been training for this their whole lives! They spring Into action.

One adult shepherds the children away.
One dials 911
One hollers for the zookeepers

And every other able bodied human leaps over the rails and starts punching
Kicking
Yelling
Wielding sticks
Whacking wild dogs with cell phones
Cameras
Loose change

In the wild brouhaha that ensues one of these brave souls pulls the child away quickly

Hurt, but still living.

We don’t believe in these brave, fictitious people

Because we are unwilling to be them

Dear Krim Family

My heart aches for you. I know your lives have been thrown into the darkest tunnel. You are constantly in my thoughts and prayers. Words fail.

There is an Old Testament story that keeps coming to my mind. A woman whose family was executed to stop a war sits over the bodies of her loved ones warding of the birds.

It is one of the bleakest images of grief–all that remains is her lonely figure on a hilltop. I wish I could ward off the birds of memory seething around you and your beautiful, heartbroken family.

May my words be like hands
Warding off the birds