The Weight of Glory

Frustrated.  Joel and I pick up our protesting almost-one-year-old and hop in the car out of parental desperation.  I'm not frustrated at my son, necessarily.  Frustrated that he woke up at 5 this morning, yes.  Frustrated that he refused to nap anywhere near his normal schedule or close to the amount he needs, definitely.  And frustrated that he can't communicate whatever it is that is bothering him, not hurting him but making his day ever-so-off until we are clamoring to find something within a 50-mile radius that will distract him for a few hours. 
On my way out the door, on a whim, I grab my book, Sacred Parenting.  Not sure if I want to hear what it has to say today, but pretty sure I need it!

The tagline: How Raising Children Shapes Our Souls.  On many days, I feel like raising a child has made my soul worse.  On other days, it tears it to shreds.  And on still other days I see reflections of glory.  In reality, raising a child shows my soul in its unaltered state, in all its ugliness and vulnerability, and of is greatest potential to love.

Chapter 12: Sacrifice. "In many ways, sacrifice defines love."  Regularly parents and children have conflicting wants.  Often, they have conflicting needs.  In these situations, whose needs prevail?  It is the right of the child to receive more than just the leftovers.  To an extent, my life ended when my child was born. On these days, where Ezra is straining me to my core to care for him and love him fully, I have faith that God is buffing away the ugly parts of my soul, those tarnished bits and pieces that have never been touched by anyone else!  And he does it all through the most precious of gifts, that I love more than I ever thought imaginable, while at the same time see my own extreme selfishness as I resent lack of time, sleep, energy, privacy, stimulation, socialization...my list could go on.  Then God reminds me, he's entrusted this small soul to me.  The eternal significance of my work now at times buries me under the weight of glory.  But I persevere.  I raise my child.  I love my child.  And trust that in my weakness He is strong!

Think you are Eating Smart? Maybe Not!

For a long time I've been eating organically (when possible) and trying to limit processed foods. Ever since I found out there was possibilities of pus and blood to be found in mainstream milk, I was set on a path to really examine what is really in my food and where it comes from. Robyn O'Brien addresses another concern that I had never even thought about as she looks into why certain chronic illnesses wrack Americans at a higher rate than any other nation when we also have access to some of the best healthcare professionals in the world! Since my son and 2 of his cousins have been dealing with food allergies since infancy, none of whom have a family history of food allergies, I was really interested and concerned by her research into the food industries and some very dangerous trends that are affecting our families.  Take a couple minutes and check it out!  Also, her website is here, and it has a lot of very simple first steps, and takes a very overwhelming and complicated topic and breaks it down to a very managable lifestyle for the average consumer.

Clean Water for Elirose

For 2 years Joel and I pumped our own water into old 20 liter oil containers that we had first scoured clean.  After waiting most of the day, we lugged them 200 yards or so to our home.  Fortunately for us, our village had a working (most of the time) foot pump that accessed water from deep within the water table, and went straight into our buckets without being contaminated.  This pump was located fairly close to our house,and still by the time we made it home we were huffing and puffing and covered in sweat and grime.  

Buuut....On the occasions where the pumps broke, this is what the alternative water source looked like:

   

Lets just say it was not the cleanest water.  And at least a 20-30 minute walk from our house (with empty water containers!) Fortunately for the Americans, back home we had fancy shmancy water filters!  Not so for everyone else in our village. Which is why a big part of my training included water purification and prevention/treatment of diarrheal disease. 

This type of situation and worse goes on all over the world.  Clean water is going to be THE defining humanitarian issue throughout this century.  But its also a relatively simple problem to solve.

Which is why I'm backing this awesome initiative to train our children how to live right, and help others live well.  Check it out at: Clean Water for Elirose.  This is not your normal children's book, and it is guaranteed to not only raise awareness but also promote simple yet effective action. 

Please take a few minutes and check it out!  I happen to know the author and he is one of the most passionate and well-informed guys out there (You can check him out at Trying to Follow: Thoughts on the Journey).  Just give the book a look, and if you don't feel like participating, at the very least you can read it for free online and share it with your own family!

Another Weird Thought

Along the same lines, I was thinking today about formula.  Giving Ezra formula was never an option, because he displayed allergies to cow's milk protein, and possibly soy, the 2 main options for formula (unless you want to spend thousands on chemically created hypoallergenic formula made of God-knows what--no thank you!). His tummy could only handle mommy's milk.  So I was thinking, what if we had formula modified from actual humans' milk?  I got an image of hard-working women at an assembly line donating their milk.  And my thought was--gross!!  Just like I know everyone else's would be.  My mind went to their diet, health, medications, chemical exposure, vitamins, possible contamination, and so on.

I offer you this strange image because it sparked a thought--why don't we have the same concern for the actual formulas that we buy for our babies?  What is the diet of those cows?  How is their health?  What kind of medications are they given?  How sanitary are the facilities?  And why would it be so gross to have formula processed from our intended source?

I know I don't know much about baby formula or how it is created, except that it has a base of cow's milk.  And while I'm sure I would have looked for an organic option, it still doesn't answer any of those questions.  Here are the ingredients on an organic label: Organic Reduced Minerals Whey, Organic Non-Fat Milk, Organic Lactose, Organic Glucose Syrup Solids, Organic Palm Oil Or Organic Palm Olein, Organic Coconut Oil, Organic High Oleic (Safflower Or Sunflower Oil), Organic Soy Oil, Organic Whey Protein Concentrate.  Then of course they are fortified with vitamins.

I'm not really making a statement here.  Just thinking publicly.  

A Weird Thought

I've been thinking a lot about boobs lately.  Weird, I know.  But our society has such a twisted focus on anatomy.  While I lived in Mauritania I saw enough boobs to last a lifetime.  They were functional, like an arm or a leg, and about as sexual as my big toe.  They weren't a topic of conversation or of lust.  They just were.

A couple nights ago on the news they were talking about this doll.
It is a doll that makes the motions of breastfeeding.  It comes with an apron for the little girl to wear, so there is no physical contact and nothing indecent about it.  However, Americans are in an uproar and have decided it is completely inappropriate!  Apparently we are supposed to let little kids "remain children," and that it is gross and weird.  But why are people really so disturbed by this?  Surely my niece, who is 3, would enjoy this doll.  She has a little brother and mimics all aspects of his care with her own baby doll, and I have witnessed part of that includes nursing!  Isn't that part of being children?  There is nothing sexual about this doll, but I get the feeling that our hyper-sexual culture is as uncomfortable as they would be if it was a little stripper doll--maybe even more so!

Does anyone have any thoughts about this?

Raspberry Avocado Truffle Pie

My 5 1/2 year old niece may not have fully appreciated it, but this delicious treat is a delightful way to celebrate the return of spring--or the birth of amazing sister-in-laws!  It is super easy to make, only 6 ingredients and its dairy-free and gluten-free!  What more could you ask for?  I made this for Elise's birthday, because here in Texas we ring in the spring as early as February (lest you think I'm gloating, our spring is also tragically short-lived; last year it shriveled up in the heat by April!).
Enjoy!


-2 large avocados, mashed
-3 T orange juice (more or less to taste)
-14 oz baking chocolate or chocolate chips (or Enjoy Life chocolate chips for dairy free!)
-1 T vanilla extract
-1/3 cup rice milk (or regular milk)
-16 oz fresh raspberries



Mix avocados with orange juice.  Meanwhile slowly melt chocolate over double boiler and add vanilla extract and milk option.  If using bittersweet chocolate, add maple syrup or sugar to lightly sweeten.  Once the mixture is smooth and evenly dissolved, remove from heat and combine with avocado mixture. Pour over fresh raspberries and add a final layer of berries on top.  Refridgerate until firm, and then enjoy in small, decadent slices! 

Eva wishes she could have some!

Love Keeps No Record of Wrongs

Wow. Read that title again.  I mean, really, read it.  Then let it sink it (and repeat if necessary).

That phrase comes from the classic description of true love found in 1 Corinthians 13.  I have had this passage memorize for years.  In two different languages. 

And yet...

Lying in bed tonight I found myself doing it.  As I have so often done it.  Going through my list.  That mental list of times I've been wronged.  Of things that I am owed.  Of what I should have said.  Of what I would say now.  The dishes--left undone--again.  Broken headphones.  Empty gas tank.  Rude jokes.  Experiences denied.  Hurtful words.  Times left out.     

And I was interrupted by a whisper.

Love keeps no record of wrongs.

The wind went rushing out of my gut as that gentle whisper wrapped itself around my head like a fog.  A simple phrase.  A well-known verse.  Pounded into my brain for years, but I never once had the thought that I thought tonight:

If that is love, who do I love?  Do I really love anyone at all?

I don't want to be that person.  I refuse to be that person.  I refuse to live in bitterness or regret.  I refuse to relish the mental replay of what I could have said to cut a person to size. I refuse to wallow in self-pity or martyrdom.  I choose love.  Forget the dishes.  Lose the record.

Take a moment.  Who do you love?  And then answer this: how well do you love them?  Are you willing to truly love and lose any record of wrongs?