25 April 2013

This is not a very happy post for my first one back in a really long time. But today my heart was broken a little bit more than it ever has been, and I needed to write about it. This post is not for the faint of heart; I am going to be brutally honest about my feelings and what I saw. On the other hand, maybe you've had all these thoughts and feelings, too. It might even seem trite to some.

I've followed the on-going Kermit Gosnell case at a safe distance meaning, I know about it and feel the horror of it, and of the media refusing to make it national news, but I cannot bring myself to always read what does come out about it, because of how sickening the whole thing is.  I do read some, because I feel that the babies who were killed deserve to be known about and remembered. I avoid the more graphic things because I already feel sick at the vague, foggy idea of ending a baby's life, without the graphic details that I can all too easily imagine.

Today is the day that I saw a too-graphic picture and got sucked in.  I looked at their faces, their cold, little unnamed faces lying in the trash. I saw the close-up of the neck wound that killed them after they were born alive. I read that one mother watched while her baby was killed that way. I am sure it was the most shocking and wrenching moment of her life. I am sure nobody told her an abortion would be like that. I am sure she was told it would be safe and harmless, and that she was only having a mass of tissue removed. Her baby, like the others, turned out to be a real baby, and struggled to survive until the cruel moment when the nurse ended it's little life. On it's birth-day.

The torture that must drive any woman to abort her baby must be nothing compared to the torture afterwards, especially for that mother I read about.  The hurt I felt just reading about it was so overwhelming, and I have not walked in her shoes or had the life she had that must have made her feel that there was no other option for her baby.

The babies, though. I could not go on with my day after seeing their little bodies and faces and realizing, not for the first time, but somehow more painfully than usual, that they had no names, nobody knew who they were, ever. I could only sit on the living room floor sobbing for them, that they had such a terrible end when they should have been welcomed, named, warmed and bathed and loved.  One baby boy looked so cold and lonely, especially.  I couldn't think how to get up off the floor and stop crying for him, for all of them.

Finally I just asked God if he would fix it. He is God, who else could you ask? Who else would know what to do? I don't know what He'll do, but I do know that He is planning to do something.  Someday He will put everything right. (See the whole book of Isaiah.) I find comfort in knowing that he is so kind that he even notices when a sparrow falls out of the sky, (Matthew 10:29) that he puts each one of our tears in a bottle. (Psalm 56:8) I guess he also puts each of those babies' tears into their own little bottle, too.

I saw this picture of my little baby boy, and I wanted all of the aborted babies to just be taken care of like he is in this picture- soft, warm, relaxed, comforted and loved- all of the things that they're not when they die.


But then I thought that actually, God loves them. He loves them all the time. He is much more heart-broken about their deaths than I could ever be, and I think that after they die, as cruel as that is, that He takes them and warms them, and gives them their own name that only He knows, and has known from before the beginning of time. (Revelation 2:17-- I'm not sure if that verse can be applied here, but maybe it can.) And He knows them, He knows who they are and who they were meant to be. Maybe He even gives them birthday parties. I do not have Scriptural basis for that last one, but for most of these ideas, I think there is.

I know there are many other tragedies in the world, and many hearts more broken than mine. This one hit me today even though it is something that I've cared about my whole life, and I just needed to share it. I do pray for everyone involved in the atrocity of abortion, from those who carry it out, to those who are hurt by it, to those who are trying to help.

18 September 2012

perfection = soap and cake

It is a perfect, cloudy fall day of soap- and cake-making. What could be better?


(I have always been obsessed with these cakes for the bazaar in  Disney's Pollyanna.)

When I was pregnant with Alexander, I fell in love with the smell of soaps and cleaning supplies of every kind, an obsession that has not entirely left me now that he is 9 months old.

Today I made homemade laundry soap, two gallons of it! It is the easiest thing in the world, and costs one cent per load!  My favorite moment by far, in all of the soap-smelling and stirring, (neither of which is really required by the recipe) was grating the bar of ivory soap with a cheese grater. The lovely sensation, the slippery ease and the pile of soap shavings, along with the increased soapy smell did my heart good.

I would have taken pictures, but in the moment, I forgot.  Well, I did take one boring one, but the pile of soap shavings was already dissolved, so how much fun is that?

I also found this post about making cakes like the ones in Disney's 1960 Pollyanna. I will try to take pictures when I make that.


07 June 2012

It's a wonderful day when...

This morning we ate breakfast with my Mamma.  She had a meeting in San Antonio yesterday and had to come see Alexander, who hadn't seen his Gigi since he was 3 months old!!! They were both so excited!

 

During a long nap, (not my own, just to clarify) I potted some sweet potato vine for the front porch, and generally cleaned up the yard.

We walked the library where we saw a book about goblins.

We had a good music time together.


Today was completely overcast almost all day long.

We went to Walmart and bought chocolates and a bikini.

And Steve and I had our first really good talk in a while.

Not every day is perfect, but some days are.

04 June 2012

It's Monday...

  

    


Sometimes putting flowers on your head can make all the difference.

23 May 2012

I can hardly eat muffins in an agitated manner, can I?

Several months ago, I had a rather glamorous Thursday. I even took pictures of it and subsequently promised to blog about it later. The glamorousness sort of faded as time went on. However, I still have the pictures, and I think I'll try to revisit what lingering glamour is left by finally blogging about it now. That's a good way to celebrate on of the most uninspiring, un-glamorous, UNmotivated weeks I've had in my entire life. (That week is happening right now.)


Mmmmm. Butter London paintnolish. :)

 One of the best things about Glamorous Thursday was that I was able to ignore the impossible mess around me and just enjoy my day with Alexander and his blessed smiles and naps.

 A robe from a thrift store might not seem the most glamorous thing to be wearing all day, but it is when the tag says two special words: Neiman Marcus. And I any day where you see the word "vogue", no matter where, becomes a little less mundane.


Oh, here's the mess. A small part of it, only. I guess I thought it was glamorous too. It sort of is, isn't it?
Red lipstick adds a lot to your day sometimes. Especially if it happens to be Chanel.
I know Alexander seems to think so...
And I also know that I got the inspiration that day to paint my bedside table mustard yellow and avocado green. It was a great day. I don't know when I'll be inspired to have another glamorous Thursday, but I hope it will be soon.


19 March 2012

In case anyone's listening...

It's odd how I don't at all mind certain pictures of myself now that I distinctly remember hating at the time they were taken. That gives me hope for the ones taken this past week/weekend in Rockport...

I'm still thinking about blogging, and reading everyone else's blog, I just never do it these days. I will soon...

Alexander smiles like you wouldn't believe, and he has a sweet little, actually rather big dimple on his left cheek. He does a huge wide open laughing smile, but I like his happy little gummy smile the best.

And my hair is dark brown and I have bangs now. I'm re-reading the Emily books with great satisfaction not to be jealous anymore at every mention of her dark hair and pale skin. And we've had quite enough road trips for one 3-month-long little lifetime so far!

Cheers til later!

14 February 2012

Today

I had a rather glamourous Thursday a while back, and I was going to tell you about it. I even took pictures. I'll tell you about it next time.

Today I cleaned, swept and mopped our dining room for the first time since Alexander was born!! (Sanna came over and did it right before Christmas, but this is the first attention it has had from me.) I can't tell you the billowing piles of dog hair I've been stepping over for WEEKS!

I made a gargantuan triple recipe of this chicken chili: some for us, some for our freezer, and some for a family at Steve's work who just had a baby.

I went to mom's group at church. Before I left, I needed to nurse Alexander and also really wanted to take a little bath, and thought that Alexander could stand a bath too, since he hadn't had one since Saturday. So I did all three of those things at the same time! It didn't quite go much faster than doing them each separately though. Apparently Alexander doesn't nurse well in the tub because he is obsessed with looking at the faucet. It doesn't have to be running, it just has to be there, and then he looks at it. Every time.

Since I was out, I went to Taco Bell and ordered a mexican pizza in the drive-through, only to realize that my credit card was at home in the dryer. No junk food today!

I nursed Alexander a bunch of times, and he loved it.

Steve came home from work and ate chicken chili with me and then did the dishes while I fed Alexander.

It was a really good day.