This Story Has A Happy Ending...

...but too many don't.

Chatterbox disappeared in a shopping centre a while back. One minute she was by my side and the next she was gone. Thankfully, after a desperate prayer, we found her outside another shop, crying.

What makes me feel sick - apart from the fact that she could have been gone forever - is that while I was running in and out of shops, yelling her name, everyone else in the shopping centre carried on as if nothing was happening. Including two mothers sitting peacefully and drinking their coffees with their own children safely in prams.

It was absolutely my own fault that I didn't keep a closer eye on Chatterbox. I don't hold anyone else responsible for that, but I find it disturbing that everyone in a busy shopping centre ignored the fact that I had clearly lost a child...and ignored the crying child separated from her mother.

What are we doing to ourselves? How is it that we are SO hardened to the pain of others that we hesitate to step in and help when we see a real need?

Only a few weeks after that incident I saw exactly the same thing happen to another mother. No one moved a muscle (except yes, I did, because I knew what it felt like!) to help, not even the friends she had been talking to minutes before.

I am so thankful that each passing day takes us one day closer to what this country really needs, not a change of government, but a change of heart.

Never Mine

One for the mothers (and their children)... Please forgive the erratic punctuation :)

You never were mine,
Though I held you inside.
You never were mine,
Though we laughed and we cried.

You never were mine
Through tumultuous years;
You never were mine
Through the laughter and tears.

You never were mine
As we sang many songs -
In sweet harmonies -
They made us feel strong.

You never were mine
When we choked with despair,
When sorrows weighed heavy,
And death held our stare.

You never were mine
Through the day or the night -
Though we walked side by side,
Ever seeking the light.

You never were mine
For a moment or breath -
You aren't mine in life...
Nor will be in death.

You never were mine,
You belong to the King
He loaned you to me,
Such a marvellous thing!

Though you never were mine,
I thank God every day
That He sent you to me
... And left you to stay!

The Train

The wind blew sharp and coldly
Over barren rocks and railings
While we shivered on the platform
Watching, waiting for the train.

With eyes fixed on the distance,
Icy hands tucked into armpits,
Tingling feet like horses stomping,
While we stood waiting for the train.

In the stark, unfriendly silence,
Minutes slowly ticked to hours,
Snorts and mutters of impatience
At the train that never came.

So many moments squandered,
As life crept cat-like by us,
While we snorted and we muttered
At the train that never came.

Too often living is suspended
For the dreams of Something Better,
Dreams that keep us, watching, waiting,
Like the train that never came.

...Because It Hurts

Warning: This post may be distressing to readers who have lost loved ones.

The hospital room was brightly lit and painted in warm neutral tones. The man fidgetting restlessly on the chair next to the bed wasn't in physical pain. He had been "made comfortable" with morphine. Michael had no reason to fear death because he had a firm faith in a resurrection to eternal life. However, in that pleasant and comfortable room he faced a terrible trial - and it was all in his own mind.

My friend was hallucinating, and in his hallucinations,* Michael could hear his loyal and devoted sister, Sarah, (who sat quietly by the bed) plotting in whispers with nurses to take possession of his generous inheritance from their parents. No words of comfort could convince Michael that his hallucinations were anything but stark reality. There was nothing that Sarah could say in her own defense. In a peaceful hospital room, Michael was tormented as if he were on a real-life battlefield. Although completely imagined, his agony was no less real than the actual physical pain being suffered by patients in neighbouring rooms.

Thankfully, Michael's suffering is now over, and I look forward to seeing him again, not only restored, but renewed as a spirit member of God's family at Christ's return. Meanwhile, I hope I will never forget the lesson of that and other, similar, experiences witnessing the suffering of others.

Unfortunately, that lesson is not cemented as firmly as I would like. I still catch myself responding with impatience when I hear others bemoaning a trial that seems "trivial" to me. However, I continue to remind myself that a trial hurts simply because... it hurts. Someone else's pain does not need to make sense to me in order for it to be significant to them... and vice versa.

As a parent, it can be easy to laugh off the situations that really upset my children. What I need to remember is that they have neither the capacity nor experience to cope calmly with some of the "little" hurts that come their way. When a friend calls them a silly name in a fit of childish frustration, it is easy for me to brush it off because I understand that in a few days they will be friends again, but for them the entire world is collapsing because they can't anticipate what the future might bring. For a child it hurts simply because... it hurts.

Sometimes when life completely overwhelms me, the Raamonster wants to know why I am so upset. In that moment, my conscious brain is incapable of processing and explaining a potent combination of fatigue, guilt, anger, frustration, disappointment, hurt... the list goes on. I expect him to understand that it hurts simply because... it hurts. God is helping me (over time) to extend that same grace toward others.

A few months ago I was summoned to our front yard by screams of pain and terror from Miss Curie. I ran outside expecting to find her lying in a pool of her own blood. I found her instead, paralysed with the pain of... a bee sting. I'm afraid I wasn't wildly sympathetic - annoyed would be a better word. Thinking about it later, though, I realised that Miss Curie has hardly ever hurt herself. She has never been sick for very long, and her worst injuries have been slight grazes, so in her experience a bee sting felt like a life-threatening injury. So I apologised to her for my harsh reaction... and reiterated that screaming is for life-or-death emergencies (including a bee sting if she's having trouble breathing, but then I guess she couldn't scream... ANYway...).

So, whatever causes another person to suffer - however trivial it may seem - is worthy of sympathy and compassion. Of course, discernment is warranted when dealing with those people who are unwilling to change themselves and always have a new complaint that is Someone Else's Fault. However, I know that I can certainly afford to err on the side of patient and gentle, especially with my own children!

*Please note that names and details have been changed to protect privacy

What Would You Really Do?

Recently I've been wondering what I would do if I was faced with a choice of my faith or my life. What would I really do if I had to choose between God's way and the... other way? I would like to think that I would obey God no matter what, regardless of the price.

In my ponderings I've realized that I face life-and-death choices every day - choices between the Way of Life and the... Other way. So how do I measure up? Do I stand up for what's right, or do I take the easy way out? Hmmmm, let's see...

How do I unwind at the end of a long and arduous day? Do I relish the opportunity for a spiritual detox by spending the last minutes of the day drinking in God's word, or meditating on His word or in some other way that connects me to my loving Creator? ... Or do I zone out in front of a TV or computer, or by listening to music with morally questionable lyrics (sorry, I just don't buy the idea that you can enjoy the tune without really "listening" to the words)?

Oh, I don't like the answer to that one.

How do I respond when I'm angry or hurt? Do I lovingly seek resolution and a greater understanding of others? ... Or do I explode, or retreat to my little cave to nurse my wounds and let them fester?

Nope, don't like the answer to that one either.

How do I react when faced with criticism (constructive or otherwise, it's irrelevant, really)? Do I honestly examine myself for truth in the criticism and actively seek to make restitution and change? ... Or do I explode with my own set of (definitely unconstructive) criticisms, or retreat back into that cave again?

Oh dear, this is not looking good at all.

There's a whole bunch more questions I could ask, but it's just getting too depressing...

Seriously, I have a lot to work on, but I thought it worth putting these thoughts out there because it is so easy to live life waiting for that Big Moment, or waiting for Circumstances to change so we can be our best and truest selves. Meanwhile, we are unconsciously laying a foundation for when that big moment does come. And if we're not careful, that foundation can be a very shaky one.

It's not just our outward selves, but our very thoughts and words that define who we truly are. Part of this post is also in response to reading discussions (among Christians) on Facebook that have really troubled me. Part of our calling is to separate our words and actions (not ourselves) from this world. The apostle Paul said that certain things shouldn't even be spoken about among Christians, and that there should be no crude joking among us. It becomes very difficult to separate our thoughts and words from that world when we voluntarily immerse ours minds in the blatantly amoral rubbish that dominates our TV screens. I know only too well because I have been there!

So... if you were faced with a life-and-death choice between right and wrong, what would you really do? The only way you can be sure that you will choose Right when you are faced with that Big Thing is by choosing Right now, in all the little things.

Why We Choose to Home Educate Our Kids

I'm writing this as a reminder to myself when I forget. I often read posts on homeschooling forums about terrible things happening at schools - extreme bullying, rejection of moral principles, declining rates of literacy and numeracy... To me, these aren't good enough reasons to keep our kids home. A choice made only out of fear of the alternatives is a coward's choice.

Sure, some bad stuff happens in schools, but bad stuff happens in lots of other places too. Sometimes the worst thing that happens to kids is their own parents. I'm working hard with God not to be one of those parents.

For our family, home education is about laying a foundation. To some people I guess it looks like being a crazy control-freak, but I want to have a say in what's going into my kids heads and hearts. I want them to know that fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge and wisdom, not numbers and the alphabet. I want them to understand that information that is not grounded in ultimate truth is worse than useless.

There are parents who can achieve these ends while sending their children to school. I congratulate them! I have seen a number of times just how vulnerable our girls are to misinformation. One day they will have the maturity to sift truth and right from the lies. One day they will have to stand against the tide of godlessness for themselves - or choose to go with it. Right now, I want to inundate them with the truth - with what it means to live for God day by day. All in preparation for the time when they will be swamped with lies and immorality and have to decide for themselves where they are going.

I don't hold up home education as the only way to bring children up in the "fear and admonition of God" by any means. It's a journey we embarked on after much prayer and discussion. In other families the prayer and discussion has led in a different direction.

I have to keep reminding myself that academics is one of the lowest priorities. My theoretical goal in our "school time" each day is to focus on character. Neat handwriting has no inherent value. The diligence and effort required to produce neat handwriting are valuable qualities. Getting every sum correct is neither here nor there, but being willing to recognise and correct mistakes is an essential quality. Artistic masterpieces will crumble into dust eventually, but working to improve drawing skills teaches the importance of growth and overcoming - characteristics with lasting merit.

Educating our children at home also allows us more time and energy to give to others. Instead of filling out endless worksheets (as happens in some, not all schools), our girls can use some of their writing time to write letters to people who could do with cheering up. Instead of the pages of meaningless sums that I remember from my childhood years (and yes, that experience taught me many important lessons, such as patience!), we can spend some of our maths time working out how much to tithe on pocket money... We could still do these things if our girls went to school, but I really appreciate the opportunity to incorporate them into their daily learning.

In the end, being able to keep our girls at home (and, of course, that doesn't mean we are actually at home all the time, we get out for a number of activities and errands each week) enables us to base their education on the foundation of God's word. I feel incredibly blessed to have the opportunity and capacity to put God front and centre in their lives each day.

I just need to live up to that responsibility! Being one of the weak of the world, I am so thankful that with God all things are possible!

The Gateway to the Brain (Why We are What We Eat)

We live in a toxic world. Incidence of allergic and behavioural diseases has exploded in the last couple of decades. Most scientists are puzzled by this. Of course, I don't have answers myself, but I know that when God created man and woman He said that it was good.

Whatever went wrong wasn't part of God's original design. Whatever went wrong is something we have done to ourselves over centuries of ignoring God's guidelines for eating and farming. The idea that we could make God's designs better by pumping unnatural fertilisers and pesticides onto crops is ludicrous. The idea that we can make our homes healthier by slathering them with layers of unnatural chemicals is ridiculous.

We have battled all kinds of illness in our family, and over time and looking into how our bodies work, I have started to have the tiniest inkling of how the gut and the lungs are major gateways to the brain. When the gut is leaky and undigested or partially-digested food gets into the bloodstream, some of it eventually makes it to the brain. When the lining of the gut is damaged and can't absorb food properly, the brain can be starved of vital nutrients. Some additives in food mimic neurotransmitters (substances that carry messages to and from the brain), and others can block the message pathways to and from the brain. Other additives can interact with these message pathways in a way that creates a drug-like effect. Likewise, chemicals that we inhale (usually without wanting to!) are often able to enter the bloodstream through the lungs and can play havoc with those message pathways.

God didn't make foods to be toxic, we did. God didn't make air to be toxic, we did. God didn't make water toxic, we did. Unfortunately (as our family have learned) we have very little control over what enters our bodies from the air. For reasons that I don't understand, some people seem to be more sensitive to these chemicals than others. Our family avoid many public buildings these days because of the effects of fumes from cleaning chemicals, carpets, and who knows what else.

We have a bit more control over what gets to our brains from our gut. However, most of us are so detached (without choice) from how our food is grown that it's hard to know what is really in the stuff that we put into our mouths... even if it is labelled "organic" or "biodynamic" or "hormone free" - there's a huge element of trust in believing that something really is chemical free. Sadly, a lot of processed "organic" foods still contain toxic elements such as MSG, just named in a way that makes them sound more benign (I won't even get started on that!). Although it is hard to know what is really in all our food, our family have noticed a huge difference in our general health since changing to a much simpler diet. We were never big eaters of processed foods, but the preservatives in dried fruits were probably one culprit for Angelina, who had the most obvious reactions.

Ultimately, I believe that all the damage we have done to our world and our own bodies will only be fixed by Christ at His return. However, when we have a choice, it is worth asking ourselves if we are inviting poisons into our body. Surely the gateway to the brain is worth guarding! It's food for thought, anyway! :)