We’re finally getting some much-needed rain today. I hope it rains for a couple of days. This part of the country is parched. It also helps me to not feel guilty for not going outside with my kids, so I don’t have to keep justifying why I have to stay in and work. (Does a mother’s guilt never end?) Today is C-Day. I MUST get this house under control. So here’s a prayer that my kids will cooperate, and I will be able to keep up a steady pace without too many interruptions. Baby is doing a bit better, but still wanting me a lot. Mostly I think she gets bored. She is definitely NOT a wall-flower! 
I’ve been asked by a couple of people what’s up with my dad. Well, not much. He’s trying to guilt me into changin my stance on things. Has accused me of being “shameful” for my treatment of him. And in general has been hitting below the belt with some statements in a letter to me. I have finally had a chance to sit down and respond to him, so I’m anxiously awaiting his response to my letter. I’m sure there will be one. I love him. But right now I don’t like him at all.
So tired. Need sleep. Please help. Anyone? Anyone?
I have been trying to clean up my kitchen literally for THREE days. I get so far, and then it’s a meal time. That lands me right back where I started. It feels like I spent 72 hours touching Damara - either holding her or cuddling her in bed. For some reason today she’s napped well, and is happy to be put down for a bit at a time. I believe God designed babies to demand touch - it’s so essential to their developement. It would be easy to ignore them for “more important things” if they didn’t cry for our attention. It is tiring, but I’m glad to be able to hold my baby and give her what she legitimately needs. And when I can sneak a break in when I’m feeling overwhelmed by the level of her needs (like yesterday, when we all piled in the van, and Greg took the crew with him on his afternoon runs, while Cole and I did some window shopping and walking up-town F’ton), just a bit of time is all I need to regroup, and be prepared to continue meeting them. So for the first time in DAYS, my kitchen is clean, and that includes my dining room. Ha, ha…as I speak, the little lamb popped her eyes open and turned to look at me. Seems she knew I was writing about her. And now, I must go cuddle.
There is a tradition in the Edwards Family. Let’s call it the End-of-Meal mantra. Once you are able to quote it perfectly, you are “in.” I believe it was one of Greg’s grandmother’s that started it. It’s just one of those fun, inside the family things.
Ahem.
“I have had an excellent sufficiency of enoughness. Any more would be an overdose to my appetite, and would make me go wibbly-wobbly.”
I must say I do believe Damara is 100% Edwards in that, when she has nursed “sufficiently”, when she assumes the standing position, she very appropriately displays what it is to be wibbly-wobbly. It makes me smile a lot.
I ripped someone’s bumper off their car last week?? Yay, me. I’ve never had an accident in my thirteen+ years of driving. I was so embarrassed. I also had not paid attention that day, and Damara fell off my bed. I couldn’t find her, because she had squirmed her way under the bed. Can we just conclude it was not my most brilliant day and move on? Thank you very much. The end.
Recently, I read a blog entry linked to by my aunt. It had to do with a child doing something embarrassing for the mother, and inappropriate. The conclusion was that perhaps if it had happened at church it wouldn’t have been so horrible. I have to disagree.
I have gone to church all my life. Maybe I’m just not going the “right” one. Although, that’s the same line of thinking when people are deciding to end a marriage, because they obviously did NOT marry the “right one.” I don’t think there is a right or wrong church. But we treat each other that way. I don’t believe as Oprah does that faith is open to your personal interpretation. That whatever your definition of God is, is fine. I do believe in some very indisputable truths and precepts. However, there are many areas that are just solely about personal conviction, and we as the body of Christ crucify each other for our differences on these issues. How can there be so many sincere people, seeking to serve God, that are wrong? Well, I’m thinking maybe we aren’t wrong. We’re just different.
I have struggled with a few family members that have criticized me or pointed out things that I do as a mother that they feel are WRONG. After several years of dealing with this, it doesn’t bother me anymore. It used to ruin my day, or my week, and sometimes it would irritate me for several weeks. But I finally came to a conclusion quite some time ago that has allowed me to live in peace in spite of interference and opinions. I may be doing it differently, but it is not wrong. Why can’t we as the church be like that? We don’t have to agree with everyone all the time. In fact, the Bible is very clear we won’t, nor should we. However, we act as though we are the only ones who have read God’s word or heard from Him correctly. “I’m right. They’re wrong.” And so we have division. Division within individual churches. Division between denominations. And it plays out like this: Baptist vs. Pentecostal. Charismatic vs. Fundamentalist. Old vs. New. Big vs. Small. There are so many “versus” (versi?), that I can’t keep them straight. The Baptist is convinced his way is RIGHT, BY GOD, and all else are either going to Hell, or at least won’t have the biggest mansion or the most bejewelled crown. The Charismatic, often arrogantly, feels because they “hear from God”, rather than just relying on the written word, that somehow they’ve gotten in tight with the King. The Young think they are the answer with their current way of doing church, while the Old dig in their heals, appalled at how the devil has taken over everything from hair to the music. And because we have 617 members, we’re more blessed of God, and the small group thinks “we must be so special, we’re the ‘chosen few’.” UGH!!!
May I ask how, if we continue to be so focused on these issues - which shouldn’t be issues in the first place - we are supposed to lead the way to Christ to this dying world? Not a wonder people don’t come. More and more Christians are not going to church now. And for the moment we are amongst that group. Why? Because we’re tired of games. It’s pathetic, this playing of games. We were never called to be right. To be the only way to do church. To be the coolest. Or the most reverent. We were called to be Christ to the world. And we are failing. One day, may we be able to say love is dominant, and these petty disputes will fade into oblivion. Until that day comes, though, I doubt the embarrassed mom will have received much understanding. I have been in those situations before, when a child was being, well, a child, and I only got stares and scowls. And this from a group who hold to the claim that they are accepting and understanding, not your typical church. As a Christ-follower, what does it say when I shamefully warn people away from church? When I touch situations that I KNOW the best help and healing are not going to be found within the boundaries of a church community? God, have mercy….
“How good and how blessed it is when brethren dwell together in unity.” Come on.
an incredibly cute baby who just happens to be in the throes of teething? I.AM.SO.TIRED! It doesn’t help that both Tuesday and Wednesday were nights out for me, and I got in late. Or that I’ve been busy this week purging again. Or is it still? Anyhoo, last night, she fell asleep and woke up four or five times (I lost count) between 9:30 pm and 1 am. I’d cry if I weren’t so tired. The blessing? She’s still as cute as all get-out. Good thing, as that just may be her saving grace at this point.
I’ve just spent several minutes trying to upload some pictures, but alas, it’s not working right now. Maybe later.
Edited to add: I’m thinkin’ Damara might have a future in air traffic control. This girl’s got precision timing, let me tell ya. Whenever I begin a task or especially when I sit down to eat, within five seconds, the wimper starts. It’s a gift!
