An Interesting Obituary....so sad...

I received this from my darling 12 year old niece, who often forwards things on to me, and while I often speed through and erase what I get, this made me sit back and muse a little.
I hope you get as much out of this as I did---its enough to make you sit back and take stock of where we are today in our country and around the world. :)

An Obituary printed in the London Times
Interesting and sadly rather true.

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was, since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape. He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as:
- Knowing when to come in out of the rain;
- Why the early bird gets the worm;
- Life isn't always fair;
- and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you can earn) and reliable strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well-intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place--reports of a 6-year-old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job that they themselves had failed to do in disciplining their unruly children.  It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or an aspirin to a student; but could not inform parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the churches became businesses; and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar could sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live, after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death, by his parents, Truth and Trust, by his wife, Discretion, by his daughter, Responsibility, and by his son, Reason.

He is survived by his 4 stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, I Want It Now,
Someone Else Is To Blame, and I'm A Victim.

Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone. If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

A New Beginning

   Well, its finally happened.

   Years of tears, loss, and prayers that I thought were going unanswered were slowly dissolved yesterday like chalk pictures in rain as we went through the final court hearing for our Sophia and Clara. A few questions, a couple changes to some of the directives our lawyer had written up, a smile, and next thing we know, the judge is banging the gavel and congratulating us on being new parents.

   Wow, what a difference from Annalise.

   Anna came with sweat, and blood and tears. We had to wait for her too, but in a totally different way. Laying day by day on my side for months praying that she would make it, unlike our first child. Eating hospital food, staring at the same four walls for hours at a time, counting every kick, every movement. Anxiously checking the tech's face as they came in to do the ultrasound, hoping for a flicker of good news, not just more and more bad news. Then, delivery day, knowing she had small chance of making it, hearing her cry, and everything fading to black in one big moment of exultation--she was ALIVE....

   And today I snuck up to the room of my two new daughters, two beautiful little girls that I have cried with, and slept with, and held from the moment they were born. I gently touched their curls, stroking their faces. There is so much I want to tell them...that they are incredibly loved, safe, and precious to us. That we will always be there for them, ready with open arms and listening ears. That, just like their big sister, they are truly a gift to this broken set of parents straight from the hands of God.
   That they will be our delight, and join the ranks of one lovingly spoiled and doted upon daughter, who has completely abandoned her heart to them, just as we have.

                                            What makes me a mother?

                              I have determined it is not a what, but a Whom.

"Let the name of the Lord be praised, both now and forevermore.......He settles the barren woman in her home as the happy mother of children.  Praise the Lord!" (Ps 113:1,9)

More than the Stars

      
   It has been a couple tough days around here again. I have had to cope with realizing my garden is just not going to produce its usual amount this year, after a bad year last year. With missing out on the winter with all I was doing with the twins' birth mom, I was just not looking ahead to clothing and providing for my family as I usually do. That is an unusual situation, and with the addition of two more adorable mouths to feed, it has been quite an adjustment this summer.


    I have been pretty good this year to focus on that God is the provider of my faith and everything else..that He is my help in times of trouble, and that nothing I can say or do could ever begin to replace His role in my life. But being the broken, human woman that I am, I sometimes slip up and think it is all on my shoulders.
                                                   Pride comes before a fall, right? :)
                                                  God is always faithful to gently remind me.
   Well, last night was one of those nights. We have had copious amounts of rain here in the last week--I think the last total was around 7" or something---which is a LOT for the prairie, especially at one time, right? The weather man had just finished saying we were already 4" above normal for the MONTH and then, I turn the TV off, and it starts to pour. You just have to shake your head about it.
   But it has impacted us in many ways--drowned out my garden, made it difficult at times to do laundry outside for weeks at a time, not to mention the local flooding and the bugs the wet summer has produced.
   Then last night, Kurt went into the basement and came up with a sober face. It seemed that the basement had leaked somewhat and it happened to be right in the part where I keep my fabric and yarn for sewing and crocheting. He looked more than a little stressed, so I knew it had to be bad. Normally, I wouldnt worry because I knew we had everything in plastic bins, so whats a little water, right?
   Then I realized it must be really bad, because he hugged me and went back down the stairs to bring up a few things one at a time.
   The bin he brought up was unrecognizable. Turns out the whole stack had tipped over, and the one on top (supposedly the safest, right?) had spilled out onto the floor, soaking up everything. It would have been a loss, but until I looked closely I didnt realize how much of a loss. It was my best bin of fabric---expensive fabric, meant to be made into clothing and other things for my growing family. Some of the pieces in there had been saved from Anna and I had recently been thinking about pulling them out and making dresses for the twins out of them. I was just waiting to get past the canning season.
   Now, for those of you who dont sew, you may be thinking--come on, Heather, its just a bin of fabric. Get over it! There are fabric stores everywhere!
   But it really was the fact that I have been counting on that fabric to make some winter clothing for Anna and for the twins, not to mention the sentimental value of it. I almost had an anxiety attack over it, silly to say.
   My husband anxiously watched me for a few hours as I tried to wash it and make everything come out, then held me when I realized it wasnt going to work and the tears came. I hate saying good bye to people, and things I have cherished, even silly fabric... Or dreams...like the one of having my twin daughters wearing dresses and taking pictures at the same age as we did with Anna in a similar dress...
   Then he brought me my shoes, and said "Let's go outside for a minute".
   "Its rainy and cold," I grumpily thought to myself, "why would I want to go outside?". But I lovingly (stress the lovingly part again please) followed him around the house and into the backyard.
   What met my eyes as I gazed up was astounding. Not just the stars, but EVERY star--the Milky Way was clear to see, planets, etc. You thought you saw a group of stars, then you looked again and realized there were stars behind the stars you were looking at, and even stars behind those.
   It was breathtakingly beautiful.
   Then God spoke to my heart through a verse that jumped into my head:
   "He determines the number of the stars and calls them each by name. Great is our Lord and mighty in power, His understanding has no limit...". It was almost like a physical blow to my heart.


   I was deeply and woefully convicted. Here I was getting anxious over a bin of fabric that was ruined and ignoring the big picture God has been creating all around me the entire summer. Who was I to think that something that small could possibly wreck anything that God could do in our lives? He is our provider. Not me. Not Kurt. And while I am blessed to have the things and the skills He has given me, ultimately it is the Lord who will determine what we need and use this year.

   Those millions and millions of stars He knows by name. He put each one in their place. He keeps them there, brightens them or snuffs out their light at the end of their time.
   Who am I to think that God does not understand my pain? My mourning over something so simple?

                                                          He does. So much more than I think.

   Look at all He has done in such a short time. In the last 4 years he has repaired my marriage, resettled us somewhere that our family has flourished, restored my trust and faith in women of God to be true and lovely sisters and friends, given us a beautiful home, and allowed us to begin to fill it with more precious children. He has provided my husband with a well paying job in a repressed economy, and filled our cupboards and closets to keep us warm and full. And that is just the icing on the cake.
   I have so much to be thankful for, and to know He knows each name of each star, that He cares about little things as well as the large ones, well...I have nothing to be anxious over. He will provide abundantly as He always does. :)
    "Sing to the Lord a new song, for He has done marvelous things; His right hand and His holy arm have worked salvation for him. The Lord has made his salvation known and revealed his righteousness to the nations. He has remembered His love and His faithfulness to the house of Israel; all the ends of the earth have seen the salvation of our God. Shout for JOY all the earth, burst into jubilant song with music; Make music to the Lord with the harp: with the harp and the sound of singing, with trumpets and the blast of the ram's horn--shout for joy before the Lord, the King! Let the sea resound and everything in it, the world and all who live in it. Let the rivers clap their hands, let the mountains sing together for joy, let them sing before the Lord, for He comes to judge the earth. He will judge the earth in righteousness and the people with fairness."(Ps. 98)