Online Petition

Our military is sworn to defend and protect against all enemies, both foreign and domestic.

On February 14, 2018, that is exactly what Peter Wang, a 15 year old JROTC student, did.  Peter protected staff members, and his fellow students and friends against a domestic enemy inside their school.  The very school in which they were supposed to not only feel safe, but be safe.  Peter died holding the door open so students and staff could quickly and safely escape the gunman terrorizing them.

Peter died in the line of duty.

Let's honor this young man.  Let's show Peter's family how grateful we are for his service to his school.  There is a petition being circulated so Peter may receive a burial with full military honors.  I believe in my heart this young man earned it.  The past few days, I've read about Peter's life, and his aspirations.  I believe he would have gone on to have become quite the soldier; already at 15, though, he's made his country proud.

Please, I encourage you to sign the petition. I know not everyone will agree with me, and that's okay. I would like to encourage you to think about it, pray about it, and if it is in your heart to do so, to then sign this petition.

Thank you.

https://petitions.whitehouse.gov/petition/allow-cadet-peter-wang-receive-full-honors-military-burial

Where is Your God Now?

We've all seen the news.

Another shooting.  

More children are dead.

Politicos using a mother's dead child for their platforms.  Celebrities-turned-self-proclaimed-advocates sparking Twitter wars.  Hatred being spewed, factions choosing their sides, fingers being pointed.  The parents who can, holding their kids a little tighter, a little longer.  No, please don't let go yet.   

Heads are shaking.  Tears are falling.  Hearts are breaking.  Mothers' arms are empty.

Perhaps the most poignant questions being flung at Christians--again--

Where was your God?

Why didn't your mighty God stop this?  

How are those thoughts and prayers working now?

I don't know (m)any of the answers, but I do know this:  

God was there.  

God was there, holding the hands of the frightened parents and their children, who were literally running for their lives.  He was there, comforting those who lay dying, and welcoming them as they entered into Heaven.  He was there in the guise of the first responders and the staff members, saving lives and keeping more from being hurt.  He was present in the prayers reaching Florida from around the world.

God was there, shaking his fist in anguish at human fallacy, arrogance and free will. He was there as the world wondered at His abandonment.  God was there as Jesus wept.  

God was there with the parents whose children were not there at the end of the day.  

In the coming days, we will hear stories of heroic acts and lives saved.  We will hear stories of God in action.

Yes, I'm telling you--God was there.  

I cannot explain the mind of a young man hellbent on terror and killing, a young man who made an angry, tragic choice.  But as I sit here at 2:30 am in tears, unable to sleep, completely wrecked by this, please don't tell me my God doesn't exist.  Please don't tell me my prayers don't matter.  You do you, and I'll do me.

God is still here.

Simply, I Love You

This one has been rolling around in my head for a while.  Valentine's week seemed like a good time to finally let it out.

The christian radio station we listen to gives listeners the opportunity to dedicate air time to loved ones.  Many times, I hear parents dedicating air time to their children, saying, "I love you," and "I'm proud of you."  I think it's wonderful--until the parent goes on to list the child's many accolades, as though they are the reasons for the parent's love.

My hope is this is not how it is meant, but having once been a child, I know this is often how it is understood.  Too frequently it seems, I hear "I love you because (fill in the blank)."

It saddens me!  It frustrates me!  It upsets me.

It really frosts my cupcakes (with extra frosting), and usually results in me dragging my soapbox out.

God does not list our achievements when He says He loves us.  He loves us because we are His.  God's love for us is unconditional and limitless.  When God smiles at you with parental pride, it is not because you received a promotion at work or you are mother of the year, it is because you are His child!  It really is that simple.  He loves us when we're lying in the dirtiest gutter, unclean in every way imaginable, and when we've come clean at the altar.  Our Father rejoices over us!

If my children learn nothing else from me, I want them to learn my love for them is unconditional.  My pride in them is not a result of their successes.  Do I congratulate them and make a big deal out of their accomplishments?  Of course I do.  I'm their biggest cheerleader.  But is my love, or my pride, based on anything they do in life?  Absolutely not.

So, when I look at my children, when I smile at them, when I rejoice over them, when I am proud of them, when I express my love for them, it is simply because they are my sons.  There are so many things I love about them, but the plain and simple reason I love them is because they are mine.

There's a Duck in My House

You don't really plan on falling in love with a duck.

Elijah, and her three sibling eggs, were just supposed to be a science project for Avery.  Something for the two of us to bond over.  We'd always wanted to hatch eggs, and we finally had someone willing to give us the eggs, and take the birds back once they were old enough.

You certainly don't plan on having one live in your home.

I've always been the mother who responds, "NO!  They're dirty, gross and noisy!", when my eight year old looked longingly at the birds in the pet store. I mean--have you ever seen those things???? My grandmother loved her outdoor birds, and because of her I love them, but--indoor birds?  Inside my house?  Ew.  No. We have more than our fair share of animals living in our home, and I have to help Shawn draw the line somewhere.

And now...  There's a duck living in my house.

An actual duck.

Have I mentioned yet that I'm nominating my husband for sainthood?

Elijah's egg was the only one that hatched.  Right on time, exactly on day 28. As we walked in the door from church that afternoon, there was a tiny little crack forming down her egg.  We couldn't believe it!  The excitement from all the days before--the little ducky sonograms we'd performed with flashlights ("candling"), watching all the babies swim around in their eggs, was finally peaking.

We were having a baby!

Elijah slowly emerged, first a leg, then finally the rest of her, until she was completely out, that following Tuesday.

We anxiously awaited the other eggs, David, Esther and Samuel.  Sadly, they were not to be.  Never in my life did I think my own miscarriage would help me explain loss of life to my son, but there we were, huddled under the kitchen table, talking about how sometimes babies are just too sick and God spares them pain.  We saw them swimming around in their eggs, we know they were alive at some point.  It's a difficult thing for a child to wrap his head around.  Hell, it's a difficult thing for an adult to wrap her head around. We don't really know why, but it's something we can ask Him when we meet Him.  It hurts us, and it's okay to be sad, and it's okay to miss them, but we know God is taking care of them.  

So, we had a baby duck!  What's next?  Oh--post tons of pictures to Instagram, of course!

We moved Elijah into a plastic tub, which we placed in our--my--luxury tub in our master bathroom (the only room we could close off to protect her from the cats and dog), complete with her heat lamp, special lovies and mirror (to simulate siblings), food and water.  Lots of water.  

For weeks we cleaned up pine shavings throughout the house as Avery cleaned Elijah's plastic tub and cared for her and bleached my tub each time she swam in it (ohhhh, the sacrifices a mother makes for her children!). We also made plans to return Elijah to the farm her egg came from.

And we fell in love.  It suddenly became perfectly normal to have a duck in our house.  I became used to having Elijah chat at me as I showered and dressed in the morning, and got ready for bed at night.  Being who I am, I talked back.  Her evening chatter became my bedtime white noise.  Elijah imprinted on Avery, following him everywhere when we let her out of the bathroom. A duck and her boy.  Like glue.  Melting hearts left and right. I never considered a duck could be so affectionate, but watching her with Avery, she's just such a sweetheart!  She gives kisses, she hugs, she sits in his lap and snuggles, and even preens him.  She calls to him, and responds to his voice.  Avery took to sleeping on our bathroom floor, and spending his free time in there when Elijah couldn't be out. She found ways to entertain herself, like pushing Ezra's matchbox cars around with her beak. Both younger boys loved to read to her, and we had regular duck/boy races occurring in our home.  We spoiled her rotten, discovering her affinity for peas and Cheerios, teaching her to eat right out of our hands.  Elijah had become a member of our family.

Instagram rioted the day we took Elijah to her farm.  Avery cried.  Elijah cried.  I cried.  Shawn took it hard.  Ezra didn't understand.  Noah went easy on Avery for the day. 

It was downright awful.  Our house was so quiet.  Too quiet.  Every time I looked at her plastic tub where we left it until trash day ("Never again, this is too hard on everyone, there will never be another Elijah anyway" Shawn and I declared), and the incubator where we left it until we could give it away ("Never again, it was too much like being pregnant again, and it was just too hard on us," Shawn and I declared), I cried.  Avery's behavior, moody and prone to rollercoaster-like fluctuations on a good day, was off the charts.  Even though we knew we could still visit Elijah, it was as though a death had occurred in our family. I framed two pictures of Elijah for Avery, putting them on his dresser, hoping they would help him cope.  Shawn and I had decided it would be best for both Avery and Elijah if Avery didn't visit for a few days, even though Avery was eager to go back the very next day.

Then I got the phone call, not even a full three days after we'd taken her to her farm.  The long and short of it was, Elijah wasn't adjusting well to farm life, and if we wanted her, we could come get her.   I knew the answer, but with respect to marriage, I explained (trying to hide the giddiness in my voice from Avery) I would have to discuss it with my husband.  I called back the next day with a resounding YES, and the following day, Elijah was back home, where she belongs.

Instagram celebrated!  I cried when I saw our girl.  Avery couldn't stop laughing.  Shawn smiled.  Noah shook his head and rolled his teenage eyes.  Ezra was a giddy little toddler.  And Elijah--she knew she was home and wouldn't stop quacking at us.  She put her little face right in Avery's lap when he sat down for her at the farm.  She ran to our car with him.  A reunion never looked so good!

Life is back to what qualifies as normal around here.  It's the way it should be. Avery does his schoolwork curled up with his duck, and both littles are happy to have their reading buddy back.  She is enormously good for Avery.  The effect she has on him--I can't describe it.  They need each other.    Elijah has explored her backyard a bit, and we learned that a duck attempting flight and a Border Collie do not make a good outdoor mix.  That nearly ended badly.  She nibbles on our toes during dinner, settling under the table near Avery.  We've adjusted a few things--no more wood shavings, for example.  Elijah has a little apartment in our bedroom, some cute little digs that make things easier for everyone.  She has a bed next to the fireplace, just like the cats do. And with duck diapers (yep--but the question on all of our minds as we shopped for the maxi-pad inserts, do ducks need pads with wings???), she is free to roam the house when we're home.  I've drawn the line at allowing her on the furniture, but I have a very willful boy, and a duck who rests her beak on the couch, staring at her boy, wondering why he isn't on the floor with her, so it's just a matter of time, right?  Everyone gets along, the cats think she's one weird looking cat, she thinks they're one weird looking duck, and the dog--well, Lilly is Lilly.  She's never sure what she thinks.

So yeah, there's a duck in our home.  And she's family.