Sunday, March 28, 2010

Hail Mary, Full of Grace

This week Pooh Bear reminded me that she's cut from the same cloth: she's a feminist.  As we waited for her bus one morning she struck up the following conversation.

"Mom, I wonder why women didn't count in the Bible," she questions.

"What do you mean, Pooh Bear?"  I ask back.

"Well, when the Bible counted people, they didn't count women OR children.  It just doesn't seem fair, like we're not people or something," she ventures.

"Hmm.  Well, we are people aren't we, and we should always be counted, huh," I summarize.

 "Yep."

"Yep.  I just filled out our U.S. census, and we're counted now.  You and I both on there fair and square.  It took a long, long time after Bible times for people to let women be counted and even vote. Some countries still don't count women or let them vote.  I love that we have that kind of freedom here now.   The people who wrote the Bible down didn't know any better, but God does. God made girls and loves us."

"Yep.  So, I'm kinda mad about somethin' else.  Why did God have to send a son instead of a daughter?"  she inquired.

"There are only two choices to pick from, and God had to pick one.  I like Jesus pretty well.  In fact, I'm crazy about him.  If God had sent a daughter, I'd have loved her just the same.  I have to say I'm not disappointed, but it's okay if you feel that way though.  You want to feel girls are important, and we are."

"I know," she states in her matter of fact, old soul way.

Friday, March 19, 2010


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The thirty minute writing assignment started "Like a fish" but the students were prohibited from using words like swim, water, and wet. Here's what Peace came out with:

Like a fish, I spent my weekend squirming and flopping about from place to place. My parents died in a car accident on the same day I was born. I never knew them. I am, of sorts, different in the head. People have been handing me off to the home of some other person. During the accident my brain got damaged. Dr. Lawson says that I'll never recover. I don't mind though. My brain don't work right. I tend to repeat myself due to short term memory loss. My head got hit in the accident. My memory is not its best. This weekend, I spent like a fish would- flopping around from home to home, because no one wants me. And my parents died.

Sunday, March 14, 2010

I didn't realize I'd actually take time to read every weekend now, but it seems to be true for now. I finished, more accurately devoured Jenny Sanford's Staying True last weekend. Her faith and life instruct mine. Nothing like hanging out the laundry, and the fact is that her wash is clean, sparkly white. I admire her commitment to family, deep love and respectful way of letting go. Well done, Jenny.

This weekend Helen lent me her favorite book, The Time Traveler's Wife. Enjoying the story immensely so far.

Anyone have any recommended must reads, so I can have some things on queue?

And in the movie department. Thumbs down to Shutter Island and Precious. Sorry, Martin and Oprah. I wasn't inspired due to predictable yet depressing content.

Monday, March 08, 2010

Hurt Locker? Really?

I rented it Saturday from Redbox to watch with my son, Peace. Last week, Peace told me of his re-emerging interest in the military, so I set out to get that boy a war education by acquiring realistic blood and gut films for him to peruse. I nearly stopped breathing last Sunday when we had a where-are-you-headed-in-life talk and service to our country reappeared on the radar. I love this country. I love our soldiers. I am so grateful every. single. day. for how they put their lives on the line for me, but I'm not interested in this particular son heading to the Air Force unless he can convince me it's a word from God for his life. Just needs to hear the voice of God on it- that's all.

While viewing Hurt Locker Saturday, I spent the entire time in agony over the risks. I sucked in my breath and let it out with "Ooh, ohh, ooh. No, no, no, no. Ew, Eeee. Man!" the entire time the movie was on the screen. Imagine me thinking in the back of my head about my son in the risky positions of the characters.

And what to do with my own personal anti-gun and anti-war thoughts?

I think I won't worry about this today, and see where time takes us all. I mean, it can all change in a moment anyway.