My Mistake

I met a certain gal about 15 years ago. We were very different in many ways, but we found ourselves in the same season of life as young mothers and became fast friends. During this time, 2004-me had become wrapped up in pro-life meetings and agendas. I was part of an organization that fueled my passion. I made my stance clear whenever “politics” came up. I felt as though it was my duty to inform, and shock, and change minds.

My dear friend had an opposite opinion than me. While I discounted her opinion as lesser, she had come much closer to the complications of abortion than I ever had. Yet, I never cared to really listen to her. 

In the end, this friend, whom I had counted on in my challenges as a young mother, couldn’t count on me to make her feel safe with what she’d endured before we met. While she may have mourned and found peace with her past moments in life, every time I blared and shared devastating materials on the matter, I tossed her backward into a deep wound—one that was not my job to hash out.

Finally, our friendship melted away. She won't even accept my friend request on social media. Of course not. She's not sure what she'll see. The sad fact is, I would have never changed her mind on the matter of abortion. But, I will always regret losing that relationship. I am not sure the way I shared that opinion was worth the burnt bridge. 

Since then, I have been given the chance to love friends through experiences that I've never had nor hope for. I've been near to unborn life and I've carried dying life within me. Miscarriage was one of my most devastating and humbling experiences. I have heard stories of desecration of life outside the womb, and I have friends who openly share their horror stories of abuse and shame, yet now use their life as bright ministry to help others. Honestly, I probably treasure life--unborn and born--more now than I ever have.

I am shaken by the news on so many different issues these days. I feel the sadness over many decisions that disregard all sorts of life and humanity. I am aware of the darkness around us. 

 Maybe there are those out there who take advantage of the legal procedures in our society, and certainly there are corrupt lawmakers and doctors and practitioners…but confronted with all these stories and posts and memes, I cannot help but grieve along with the many, many women who are wounded by the choices (not just abortion) that come with unborn life, as they scroll through their newsfeeds these days.

2019-me does not want to be the friend that is viewed as the last person to share wounds with. 

I am called to be the first—the first to reach out in compassion, love, acceptance. 

Yep, acceptance. 

I love my friends more than what has happened to them or the choices they make. I want to be a safe place. I want to understand. I want to give hope. That is all. 

No judgement in 2019. Learning from my own mistakes.

My Difference Makers

Life has been gearing up in super speed. Two teens in sports, one guy in Cub Scouts, and a little lady dancing and tumbling away. Not to mention school activities on top of that. And in between all the running around, we have these pockets of time where we must parent, where ugly comes out and we are facing the same battles of emotional management, bad choices vs. good choices, and anger issues...just like when they hit the terrible twos--only so much more significant in their older ages.

If I allow myself to sit here and try and find the bright side of last night's tug-o-war with brothers fighting, or last week's slew of missing assignments, or consequence-dishing for bad language, I would be sorely disappointed.

This part of parenting stinks. 

It's the part of parenting that not only has me wade in turbulent waters of conflict, but also chips away at my confidence that I am doing my best as a parent. It makes me stare at my child and say, "Where did you come from?" (In my head...I hated being told that as a kid, so I promised myself I would never say it out loud. LOL).

This morning, I was on Facebook and an old memory popped up in my newsfeed. It was a status I had in 2012 about my son (7 years old at the time) giving the rest of his birthday money to a  family who wanted to adopt a baby girl in Africa. And then it brought to mind all the times my kids have poured out generously to others, have shown compassion without being asked to, have given a glimpse of the difference makers they will become.

I suddenly found myself looking from a heart view of each of my children, and remembering the good that was beneath all the necessary growing pains of becoming an adult. And it's so much more important than any drama we have today.  The bright side is there, amidst the mess, and I am just now realizing it. No matter their mistakes or disobedience, I know their hearts are compassionate. From the same naughty lips that speak foul language, come the heart language of a boy who wants to help the less fortunate. From the same brotherly discord, comes a defender of his brother's honor in face of a bully.

While I have been yanking my hair trying to direct these children into adulthood, there's something that I would argue is even more important going on in their rearing.

We've been growing hearts. 

And while there is lots of practical--sometimes excruciating--parenting to do, there are future adults here who will at least remember, and hopefully live out, one of the most important values we could teach them amidst the chaos, one that otherwise gets pushed aside in this culture of success and status. No matter how much my children accomplish on paper or on the field, I hope they remember the words and actions in those pockets of time where we parented beyond the reprimands, but impress upon them the need for compassion.

And, occasionally, my kids are displaying their roots in love and compassion, and I can forget the mess for a moment, knowing that it is truly fleeting. We are only wading through it to get to the good stuff--adults who will indeed make a difference in this world.

To The Mom I Don't Know

I don't know you, but I can't imagine I'll ever forget you. There's the buzz in the air, the ripples of grief making there way to strangers. I am a stranger.

I don't know you, but I've wept and wondered and prayed over you and your family and your loss.

Even from a distance.

I don't know you, but I can't drive anywhere without sensing a pulse of where you might be right now, what you are doing, how you are coping, what craze you might toe the edge of.

I don't know you, but I've gone there in my mind, and I've stared in the horror of your circumstance adopting it as my own. And I can't know what it feels like, not really. I can't know the pain, the despair, the shoes that you now walk in. I can't.

I can only imagine. And many might say they can't imagine. But, I've gone there and imagined, and I've shaken and cried to God. My dread courses through me as if I'm the one looking at the grief face on. My babies, my life I've poured into those children. And the abrupt end that could occur at any moment, at any unforeseen deed. Without a chance to say that next thing, to guide that next step, to hold that hand one more time.

And yet. I don't even know the depth of it. I can't even go there. I said I could. But I cannot really know your pain. Not all of it.

I am just at a distance.

I don't know you, and I weep for you and pray for you and hope for you. There's no judgement here. I see myself, day in and out, messing up, struggling, fighting, falling short of all the expectations I thought motherhood could be.

Even still. I pray that eyes of judgement never fall on me in such a time as your moment right now. I pray that you sense no judgement from anyone now. That God protects your heart and your sanity and reminds you He's there. Even when it is so absurd to think He's there. Where was He? Where, Lord? How can this happen...and I cry these things, and I curse this, and I don't even know you.

But I'm a mom too, and I have a mom's heart, and I weep with you at such a time as this.

Even from a distance.

Even if I'm a stranger.

A Woman's Right

I am a woman. I am proud to be female. I have the special privilege of carrying life within me. Actually, I have carried five lives within me, one ending prematurely in a miscarriage.

My rights as a woman are the same as any other person in my country-- I have the right to LIFE, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.

My rights as a woman are the same as the rights of any living person in this world. To breathe, to survive, to prosper.

The decision to kill a living human within me, is not a right. It might be a desperate choice of an individual in dire circumstances. Or perhaps it is an irresponsible choice of an individual who doesn't want to raise a baby or give one to someone who will.

In the first case, I have an obligation to show my compassion and embrace that woman who had no support, with the hope that my support could give her more choices than abortion. In the second case, I have an obligation to show my compassion, educate, and embrace that woman who chose to rid herself of a mistake.

But don't tell me that abortion is a right.

It is far from it.

It's a sad reality in our overly-entitled, grace-lacking, narrow-minded society who just want a law instead of a change of perspective.

Abortion is the last answer. Compassion is the first.

Open your arms, America

I have seen a person grown on American soil, with good roots, good family, and loving environment, and end up turning against every American ideal, every moral concept, and cling to an extreme that kills, destroys, and alienates.

And, I have seen a non-American come to this country, and discover Freedom, Liberty, and Hope, when they used to cling to the SAME extreme of the person above.

Let's not group a whole country of people into an extreme when all they seek is Freedom, Liberty, and Hope.

And the ones who do not seek that...perhaps, just perhaps, our God is big enough to change their hearts...and our government is strong enough to find the bad seeds.

It is a complete hypocrisy to turn them away because of fear. We are called to embrace because of Love. Are we so quick to forget history? To see what happened to the Japanese in this country when fear ran the American people?

The refugee crisis is truly a crisis if we turn our backs on women and children and men who just want to survive. There are plenty who live within our borders that think in "extremes", and every day, a potential new "extremist" is born. There are careful, intelligence measures that must take place, of course. And that should be the question to debate. What steps can we take...not what doors can we shut.

How can we live in the "what ifs"and fear? It will only put blood on our own hands if we let news networks and politicians scare us out of compassion.

Shame on America for trying to close its arms. We cannot live in fear. And we cannot surrender Christ's compassion because of it.

^{Matthew 25:35-40
35} For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me. ³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’