Well, I know you thought that this blog had been sucked into the vacuum of deep space, a literary black hole. It's kind of strange to write something down when you really have no idea of who might be reading it, if anyone. Would I write it the same if I knew it was just for me? It seems to almost border on the need for psych meds, like if you see a troubled person walking down the street talking with heart-felt emotion to themselves. It's real for the person, but what about the reality of two people communicating. What if I write and no one is listening? I'm sure this is something authors from the beginning of pen and ink have pondered.
And yet, I was inspired anew recently as my crew adventured down to Springfield, IL, just an hour away, to the Abraham Lincoln Presidential Museum. What was only thought about by President Lincoln, his wife, children, colleagues, soldiers in the Civil War, slaves who were freed, adversaries...we don't know all of those things. We only know the thoughts that they committed to the page. We know what the papers said. We know what the speeches- that were written- said. We can see the portraits and the artifacts that were gathered. So, I will write again, only worthwhile things, I pray.
I was going to say, then, that I would write for myself alone, just in case no one ever reads this, but in the end, one just never knows who might find another's musings helpful or entertaining. And there's always the fairly egotistical thread of a thought that runs though the mind of a mother: in case any of my children become President someday, this may be helpful. Either way, here is a little glimmer of light from what you thought was a black hole.
All of this reminds me and takes me back to the Big Picture, of course. (In case you don't know that about me, I'm a Big Picture sort of girl.) And I think of Patty Lacy, a friend who is an author, who consistently reminds those around her that our goal ought to be to write, or do whatever do, for an audience of One. He alone is worthy of any breath or word or song or book, so we do it all for Him. And so shall it be.
This past Sunday was National Orphan Sunday. This has been instituted for quite a few years now. At our church, this was the 4th time Orphan Sunday was commemorated. What a morning it was. There was a video reminding us of the beautiful children around the world who live with the great suffering that comes from not having parents. The UNICEF number is somewhere around 164 million orphans worldwide. We heard a testimony of great faith and conviction from a friend of ours who with his wife are devoted to serving children and in doing so are intentionally serving the orphans in our midst. We saw a moving video of the many families in our church who are directly impacted by fostering, adoption, or serving children who are in need of parent figures in their lives. We gave a little report on all the ways God had answered the Church's prayers for us in our adoption of Ezekiel in the past year. We were reminded of the call to action that God gives us to joyfully be involved in His work of redeeming all those whom he calls and bringing righteousness and justice into this messed up world.
In home news, Sylvia lost her first upper tooth two nights ago. It left quite a cavern! She's so cute! She and Whitton both celebrate birthdays next week, turning 8 and 10 respectively. Their teeth come out "late" due to genes from their father who himself had the pleasure of having something like 8 baby teeth PULLED because they just wouldn't budge. Poor baby. Praying that it won't come to that with the kids. That would be horrific! Sylvia has had the rows of teeth on the bottom- you know, shark teeth- for awhile now, baby and permanent teeth all attempting to eek out a place for themselves in that tiny space. Sylvia is not, and should not be, bothered by any of that. She just continues to braid her hair into increasingly small braids to sleep in in order to create the permed look. Soon, for her 8th bday, this look will be accompanied by "the earringed look." Oh mercy!
In language development news: Ezekiel is talking up a storm, but still can't say his Rs, which is fine, but I still can't resist trying to make him learn where his tongue goes to produce that sound. He really turned a corner 2-3 weeks ago in his potty training when HE began to announce on his own (!!!), "Mommy, I have to go potty soooo bad!" Oh, it's great! Before this, he would never say anything. An unbelievable transformation. So, with the exception of nights, he's good to go (potty). :D For Maren, she still liks to use quite a bit of metathesis, which is flipping two sounds around in a word. For example, calendar for her is candelar. Oliver, the neighbor (dog), is Oviler. It's very cute, and though I do sometimes repeat it after her with the correct pronunciation, it will be sad to some day wake up and realize that she doesn't do that anymore.
I'm hosting Thanksgiving this year, though I'll have a lot of help with food from my parents and sister, I'm thinking. (Well, at least I'm counting on help with the turkey from my Dad! Note to self: call Dad.) Can't wait to see everyone as it's been awhile since all the cousins (10 of them) have been together. Sweet memories forthcoming. Almost time for the bus to roll in with the 3 big kids. I can hear the Zeke-man in there sneezing in his bed. He's been saying he's cold a lot lately. Could be a long winter. :) More later, much love. Maranatha!
The photo is from this past Sunday (Orphan Sunday) after church (and the all-important potluck).
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