The view from the corner of that sidewalk is now familiar to me as we stand and stamp our feet to keep the cold at bay.
It's colder today than either of the other days i've gone - like there's a bite in the end of March air.
i got a comment on my blog the other day suggesting i should mind my own business... & i'm sure that's a sentiment that others share- so i'll share my response here -
yeh, i get where you're coming from, anonymous - but the problem is that we do have a responsibility to stand up for the weak and defenseless- in this case - the teeny vulnerable unborn ones. i really believe that the mama's are vulnerable too - & if they were aware that there is a support system for them to choose better; many of them would. To look the other way in their moment of anguish would - in my eyes - be unloving...
i care about women in crisis - hey... i *was* a woman in crisis at one point. Praying for them - on a cold sidewalk in March as they go through what could be the scariest day of their lives is the least i can do.
Friday, March 25, 2011
Thursday, March 24, 2011
come be with me, out of the water
At the last minute, it works out that i can go with him to drop off and pick up our girl from her gig. We'll have a rare hour to ourselves while our girl plays and our boisterous jammy clad crew at home revel in the freedom of a parentless house.
In the warmth of the van, we watch the slushy world in the greying light of evening speed past the windows... & i'm silent.
He lets me swim in my quiet pools for a long stretch of time before breaking in cautiously, "Why are you talking so much?"
"i dunno..." i whisper.
Sometimes the waters are too deep - and he needs to rescue me.
& isn't that what marriage is? A constant rescuing of one by the other - a never ending effort to love & enjoy - finding and giving the safety that we each crave?
i wrap my arms around my body - and follow him.
We wander through Anthropologie - and i touch compact books, pretty glassware and ruffled linens.
Finally - he reaches for my hand.
It covers mine completely - enclosing it in warmth.
He leads, i follow.
And i feel myself, still soaking - raise my head above the waters for a sputtering, gasping breath of life.
He starts to talk - fills the silence: Asian markets, shipping costs, consumers and middle men. Business strategies, profits and losses, direction for the future pulling me further from the comforting depths that separate us.
On our way home - with our girl safely in the backseat checking her email, he cracks a joke, glancing at me to see if it jabs - or if it wakens.
i smile & he drops it.
"Come be with me, out of the water..." he seems to invite.
& i dry off -
breathing freely now -
and accept.
In the warmth of the van, we watch the slushy world in the greying light of evening speed past the windows... & i'm silent.
He lets me swim in my quiet pools for a long stretch of time before breaking in cautiously, "Why are you talking so much?"
"i dunno..." i whisper.
Sometimes the waters are too deep - and he needs to rescue me.
& isn't that what marriage is? A constant rescuing of one by the other - a never ending effort to love & enjoy - finding and giving the safety that we each crave?
i wrap my arms around my body - and follow him.
We wander through Anthropologie - and i touch compact books, pretty glassware and ruffled linens.
Finally - he reaches for my hand.
It covers mine completely - enclosing it in warmth.
He leads, i follow.
And i feel myself, still soaking - raise my head above the waters for a sputtering, gasping breath of life.
He starts to talk - fills the silence: Asian markets, shipping costs, consumers and middle men. Business strategies, profits and losses, direction for the future pulling me further from the comforting depths that separate us.
On our way home - with our girl safely in the backseat checking her email, he cracks a joke, glancing at me to see if it jabs - or if it wakens.
i smile & he drops it.
"Come be with me, out of the water..." he seems to invite.
& i dry off -
breathing freely now -
and accept.
Wednesday, March 23, 2011
another vigil
Different friend...
same clinic.
It has snowed & the path we walk is slushy and cold.
Her prayers affirm my spirit - and truth is spoken aloud in the frosty air...
Can i tell you a secret, blog readers?
i'm shy to go to the clinic...
i feel my cheeks burn just to blog about it.
and yet...
i wanna be...
obedient.
We pray for the couples arriving, for the women who pull up in taxi's, for the elderly woman driving her daughter. We pray for those who are choosing to abort because of a medical diagnosis - for those who find themselves in difficult unimaginable situations. We pray for the mama's - who must enter alone, for the sake of the privacy of the other patrons. We pray that they could sense - even from the other side of the street - our compassion & the love of Jesus. We pray that somehow... miraculously... the little lives lost today will still be given significance, and will be remembered and grieved in the years to come - giving them what now seems impossible...
A voice.
As our hour ends, three ladies arrive to take our places - and i want to weep with the knowledge that i'm united in purpose with those unknown women shyly standing on a slushy sidewalk holding their rosaries.
i wave at them from the window of my friend's vehicle as we drive away... and they wave back.
The door opens, and closes...
same clinic.
It has snowed & the path we walk is slushy and cold.
Her prayers affirm my spirit - and truth is spoken aloud in the frosty air...
Can i tell you a secret, blog readers?
i'm shy to go to the clinic...
i feel my cheeks burn just to blog about it.
and yet...
i wanna be...
obedient.
We pray for the couples arriving, for the women who pull up in taxi's, for the elderly woman driving her daughter. We pray for those who are choosing to abort because of a medical diagnosis - for those who find themselves in difficult unimaginable situations. We pray for the mama's - who must enter alone, for the sake of the privacy of the other patrons. We pray that they could sense - even from the other side of the street - our compassion & the love of Jesus. We pray that somehow... miraculously... the little lives lost today will still be given significance, and will be remembered and grieved in the years to come - giving them what now seems impossible...
A voice.
As our hour ends, three ladies arrive to take our places - and i want to weep with the knowledge that i'm united in purpose with those unknown women shyly standing on a slushy sidewalk holding their rosaries.
i wave at them from the window of my friend's vehicle as we drive away... and they wave back.
The door opens, and closes...
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
mr. romantic
We're eating lunch.
The banter is rising in pitch and finally Neil raises his long arms in the air...
"You can talk to ask to have something passed to you, but let's not have any conversations, ok?"
The din decreases in volume just the tiniest bit. He turns to me, "Hey, i have to run to the bank today... wanna come with?"
It's almost like a date.
These years - though busy - have the still new-feeling treasure of big ones to help watch our little ones... we're no longer as house bound as we once were...
"Uh, yeah!" i glance down at my orange pyjama pants, "Should i change first?"
"Sure."
i haven't looked in the mirror since i stumbled out of bed this morning instantly engaged in our homeschool routine... i decide that i'll try to do that before we leave the house.
Suddenly feisty girl starts to giggle...."You guys are just going to sneak out to the van so you can FRENCH KISS! i'm going to sneak out there and WATCH you from the backseat!!"
"No, molls," i sooth, shovelling a forkful of salad into my mouth, "i promise you won't miss anything... we'll likely refrain from even holding hands." i say with a wink.
"Why?" Cairo asks.
"Ask Mr. Romantic over there..." Sloanie mutters gesturing to her father.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He laughs.
& yeh... Mr. Romantic he ain't.
But he's mine... & i'll keep him.
The banter is rising in pitch and finally Neil raises his long arms in the air...
"You can talk to ask to have something passed to you, but let's not have any conversations, ok?"
The din decreases in volume just the tiniest bit. He turns to me, "Hey, i have to run to the bank today... wanna come with?"
It's almost like a date.
These years - though busy - have the still new-feeling treasure of big ones to help watch our little ones... we're no longer as house bound as we once were...
"Uh, yeah!" i glance down at my orange pyjama pants, "Should i change first?"
"Sure."
i haven't looked in the mirror since i stumbled out of bed this morning instantly engaged in our homeschool routine... i decide that i'll try to do that before we leave the house.
Suddenly feisty girl starts to giggle...."You guys are just going to sneak out to the van so you can FRENCH KISS! i'm going to sneak out there and WATCH you from the backseat!!"
"No, molls," i sooth, shovelling a forkful of salad into my mouth, "i promise you won't miss anything... we'll likely refrain from even holding hands." i say with a wink.
"Why?" Cairo asks.
"Ask Mr. Romantic over there..." Sloanie mutters gesturing to her father.
"What's that supposed to mean?" He laughs.
& yeh... Mr. Romantic he ain't.
But he's mine... & i'll keep him.
Monday, March 21, 2011
'ro
Hey ro...
i'm so proud of you.
You never seem to make emotional decisions - and when you emailed me (yes, emailed me) to tell me that you wanted to be baptized... i knew you were making a decision that was based on the work that God is doing in your life.
When you stood in front of all those people to tell your story - your testimony - it dawned on me that the story you wanted to share was one of God himself speaking to your tender heart... not something that your daddy or i could ever conjure up on your behalf. All those scribbled scraps of paper you had been working on for these weeks - you finally typed it up and sent it to me, whispering in my ear, "is this good enough?"
Oh, good enough. Daughter of my heart... i understand what it means to 'delight in' my children... Your story is tiny - and huge... it's *significant* - and will always be 'good enough'.
You... are not defined as a "crisis pregnancy".
You are a child of God... masterful creation of the Creator...
gracefully learning to walk in obedience.
How many women are lied to - robbed of the opportunity to see the lavish love of a Father - who sees years beyond our shameful or painful circumstances to the merciful plan He would unfold...?
Cai's testimony:
I've always lived in a Christian home and gone to church with my family. When I was four, my parents helped my pray to ask Jesus into my heart. I've always remembered that day as an important one.
Since then, I have learned/realized many things about God.
He loves me and sent his Son to die for me.
He'll take care of me where ever I go.
He wants me to love and obey Him even when it makes me uncomfortable,
and He has a plan for my life that I desperately want to follow.
One of my favourite Bible stories is Luke 7:1-9:
1 When Jesus had finished saying all this to the people, he returned to Capernaum. 2 At that time the highly valued slave of a Roman officer[a] was sick and near death. 3 When the officer heard about Jesus, he sent some respected Jewish elders to ask him to come and heal his slave. 4 So they earnestly begged Jesus to help the man. “If anyone deserves your help, he does,” they said, 5 “for he loves the Jewish people and even built a synagogue for us.”
6 So Jesus went with them. But just before they arrived at the house, the officer sent some friends to say, “Lord, don’t trouble yourself by coming to my home, for I am not worthy of such an honor. 7 I am not even worthy to come and meet you. Just say the word from where you are, and my servant will be healed. 8 I know this because I am under the authority of my superior officers, and I have authority over my soldiers. I only need to say, ‘Go,’ and they go, or ‘Come,’ and they come. And if I say to my slaves, ‘Do this,’ they do it.”
9 When Jesus heard this, he was amazed. Turning to the crowd that was following him, he said, “I tell you, I haven’t seen faith like this in all Israel!” 10 And when the officer’s friends returned to his house, they found the slave completely healed.
I love this story particularly because the officer doesn't have a shadow of a doubt that Jesus will be able to heal his slave, even without Jesus coming to his house.
I want faith like that.
Whenever I read stories like this, or stories about people in other countries who are persecuted for their faith, stories about individuals who trust so completely, my question is always, "Would I have the faith to do that? Would I have the courage to do that?" My answer to myself is also almost always the same: I hope so.
To me, getting baptized is taking a step in faith and obedience. I'm submitting to 'the plan' God has for me. And I hope that in the future, I'll have the faith and courage to continue to do that no matter where life takes me.
i'm so proud of you.
You never seem to make emotional decisions - and when you emailed me (yes, emailed me) to tell me that you wanted to be baptized... i knew you were making a decision that was based on the work that God is doing in your life.
When you stood in front of all those people to tell your story - your testimony - it dawned on me that the story you wanted to share was one of God himself speaking to your tender heart... not something that your daddy or i could ever conjure up on your behalf. All those scribbled scraps of paper you had been working on for these weeks - you finally typed it up and sent it to me, whispering in my ear, "is this good enough?"
Oh, good enough. Daughter of my heart... i understand what it means to 'delight in' my children... Your story is tiny - and huge... it's *significant* - and will always be 'good enough'.
You... are not defined as a "crisis pregnancy".
You are a child of God... masterful creation of the Creator...
gracefully learning to walk in obedience.
How many women are lied to - robbed of the opportunity to see the lavish love of a Father - who sees years beyond our shameful or painful circumstances to the merciful plan He would unfold...?
Cai's testimony:
I've always lived in a Christian home and gone to church with my family. When I was four, my parents helped my pray to ask Jesus into my heart. I've always remembered that day as an important one.
Since then, I have learned/realized many things about God.
He loves me and sent his Son to die for me.
He'll take care of me where ever I go.
He wants me to love and obey Him even when it makes me uncomfortable,
and He has a plan for my life that I desperately want to follow.
One of my favourite Bible stories is Luke 7:1-9:
1 When Jesus had finished saying all this to the people, he returned to Capernaum. 2 At that time the highly valued slave of a Roman officer[a] was sick and near death. 3 When the officer heard about Jesus, he sent some respected Jewish elders to ask him to come and heal his slave. 4 So they earnestly begged Jesus to help the man. “If anyone deserves your help, he does,” they said, 5 “for he loves the Jewish people and even built a synagogue for us.”
6 So Jesus went with them. But just before they arrived at the house, the officer sent some friends to say, “Lord, don’t trouble yourself by coming to my home, for I am not worthy of such an honor. 7 I am not even worthy to come and meet you. Just say the word from where you are, and my servant will be healed. 8 I know this because I am under the authority of my superior officers, and I have authority over my soldiers. I only need to say, ‘Go,’ and they go, or ‘Come,’ and they come. And if I say to my slaves, ‘Do this,’ they do it.”
9 When Jesus heard this, he was amazed. Turning to the crowd that was following him, he said, “I tell you, I haven’t seen faith like this in all Israel!” 10 And when the officer’s friends returned to his house, they found the slave completely healed.
I love this story particularly because the officer doesn't have a shadow of a doubt that Jesus will be able to heal his slave, even without Jesus coming to his house.
I want faith like that.
Whenever I read stories like this, or stories about people in other countries who are persecuted for their faith, stories about individuals who trust so completely, my question is always, "Would I have the faith to do that? Would I have the courage to do that?" My answer to myself is also almost always the same: I hope so.
To me, getting baptized is taking a step in faith and obedience. I'm submitting to 'the plan' God has for me. And I hope that in the future, I'll have the faith and courage to continue to do that no matter where life takes me.
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