March 4 - SoL -- It's a small world: Mechanicsburg & the Crimean Peninsula

What is happening in the Ukraine? I'm not sure I could even find it on a map before this week. Being in the mommy bubble often prevents SAHMs from keeping abreast of world news. It's unfortunate, isolationist, maybe even elitist... but it's true.  Most of us don't know (or care to know) what's happening around the world... to other women, mothers of small children just like us.  We tell ourselves that we have entirely too much happening right here in front of us to worry about what's happening somewhere else. And maybe that's true... a person can only think about so many things at one time. But I still don't think it's right. 

My mommy bubble burst wide open when I heard the brief testimony of Alysa, a Ukrainian mother who just happened to be at the table behind me at Bible Study this morning. We listened to a short version of her story: She's a wife and a mother of a toddler. She and her husband run an orphanage in a small town in the part of Ukraine that has just been taken over by Russian troops.  They were here in the US for a conference related to the mission work they are doing at home, when Russian troops invaded the Crimean Peninsula (a part of the sovereign nation of Ukraine) over the weekend. 

As I understand it (she had quite a thick accent, so there are parts of the story that are unclear to me, but you'll get the idea), she and her family are unable to return home because the Russian military has deemed them spies and they would certainly face some dangerous, life-threatening repercussions if they were to return right now. 

They are in the process of applying for asylum here in the US and are very fearful for their friends and family back home. Alysa told a story of Russian snipers shooting at random less than twenty blocks from their orphanage. Seriously, MILITARY SNIPERS.  It really puts things into perspective, doesn't it? 

When I woke this morning, my biggest problems related to being "great with child" and not much more. I was humbled by this woman's testimony, not only by what has happened to her over the last week and the incredible situations she and her family are facing; but I was also humbled by her complete faith. The same lips that told us of her dire circumstances, also praised God for His provision thus far, and confidently made known her dependence upon her Lord for the safety of those remaining in Ukraine, for wisdom in how to proceed, and for the asylum that would grant her family's safety.  What a lesson in true dependence! 

I do not know how she came to be there this morning; I think they are staying with someone who attends the church. I am so thankful for her story, for the way that God used her to shrink my world today. I do not know what (if any) support or help Alysa and her family might need from The Body this week, but certainly, I can take the time to pray for God to work in this very messy situation... and now, it's real to me. There's a face and a deeply personal story to make what's happening on the other side of the world very real to me.  

March 2 - The Oscars and Real Life

I love watching the Oscars. I don't usually have the opportunity to sit and watch it all at once. But, tonight I'm enjoying just such a luxury, complete with a mug of chocolate ice cream hand-dipped and served by my loving husband. Anyway, the crazy things people will do on live television always intrigues me, maybe that's the draw for everyone else. But it always astounds me how the people involved (the actors, the techs, the directors, and so on) all make it sound like they're curing cancer or something when they talk about their work.  

I mean, really, it's just movies. Movies. Don't get me wrong, I love movies. I love the way that watching an incredible story unfold on a screen transports me into a virtual world. I laugh. I cry. I flinch and cringe and hide my eyes between my fingers, breathlessly trying to avoid scary dreams later in the evening. I ask a million annoying questions (just ask my dearest friends who tolerate watching movies with me). 

But seriously, it does drive me a little bit crazy how seriously some people take themselves. Have you ever seen a more  self-congratulatory demographic? They invented an"awards season" just to keep on congratulating one another and, I can only assume, to try and add some level of deeper meaning to what they're doing. I'm happy to advocate for The Arts and I know that our Creator designed us to appreciate beauty in all of our senses. But.... when I think about the amount of money spent on evening wear, jewels, accessories, stylist consultations, etc.  Uff dah. Staggering just to think about it. I wonder how much good could be done with even just a small portion of that money if it were put to better use. 

People suffering from curable diseases and conditions would be relieved. Hungry men, women, and children would be fed many, many meals. Women and teenage girls would be rescued from the real-life horror story of the sex-trade. Babies would survive pregnancies. Children would grow up in families.

I love watching movies and I love the hoopla of the Oscars, really, I do. I love the fashion and the fun. But I wish there would be more recognition of those individuals and organizations that actually make a difference in the quality of life lived by actual people.  

 Cure International is one. Bethesda Mission is another.  Look at Change Purse and Capital Area Pregnancy Centers for more inspiration. The people who love and serve in these missions deserve a season of recognition, not because of their work, but because of the One they so lovingly serve.  Someday, lordwilling, I will get the chance to use my time as a SAHM to serve alongside the folks changing real people's stories.  

SoL March 1 - The Happy Place

The sharp scent of freshly cut lumber, together with the grit of sawdust in my teeth has the power to send me back in time... to a sweet place in my childhood: to construction job sites with my dad during his days as a builder. As a child, and even as a young adult, I often accompanied Dad to his so-called "happy place" on a Saturday morning. It usually involved a coffee break and always included a stop at the hardware store. Sometimes it was a trip with purpose and a very specific list. Other times, the purpose was simply the trip itself; the delight of time spent together while exploring the myriad of wonders that each new department held, day-dreaming of kitchen renovations and bathroom remodels and back-yard sanctuaries.

Walking, ahem, okay, make that waddling, into Lowe's this morning was no different. I was thrilled to have Dad (and Mom) and the little man along with me. We unloaded ourselves from the minivan and made our way to the paint aisle by way of the lumber entrance. The smell of it made me smile and wink at my dad, knowing that he was thinking the same thing I was: how fun it was to be here together this morning! 

 As we entered that delightful haven of DIY daydreams, a delicate aroma of excitement, ambition, and, just a tidge of fear, tickled my fancy. Should we really be tackling one more project right now?  I knew exactly what we needed; my hubby had sent us simply to pick up paint for Baby Girl's room. But waddling (really, it feels like I'm carrying a bowling ball in my front sweatshirt pocket) across the entire store with my sweet entourage, made me think of all the things we needed to finish the projects that we've already started: the metal inserts for the closet in the boys' room, blinds for the baby's room, and extra rollers, among many more things.  "I should probably just get them... since I'm here, now, and 37 weeks pregnant," I mused, wondering if the hubby would agree, or if he'd be disappointed at not being along for the adventure.

As Mom and I waited for the blue-vested employee to conjure the Valspar paint+primer concoction,"Shaken, Not Stirred," I started watching the other people walking around the store.  Some walked purposefully, as if they knew exactly what they were looking for and where to find it; and others, simply meandered with coffee and whispered ideas amongst themselves. It had never really occurred to me that other people thought of Lowe's as their happy place, but I'm glad they seemed to be enjoying it. I wondered about the projects people were working on in their own homes. Are they just starting or are they weeks into it? Was it a project I'd like? Do they know what they're doing? Not everyone grew up as a carpenter's daughter, you know. And, I started to feel even more blessed, for all those visits with Dad in years gone by and this morning.

Meanwhile, Jack and his "Pa" went off to the garden section, where Dad allowed him to climb on and off every single riding mower and tractor that Lowe's had for sale. What delight Dad took in watching him try to scramble up the slippery, green and yellow metal forms! I think it made Dad even more happy to hear the narration that Jack provided as he attempted each climb...

         "This one. New one. Oopsy-daisies. Climb up! Good job, Jack!" (He was absolutely praising his own efforts. No worries about self-esteem for this kid.) 

The look of satisfaction and pride that my little man wore when I finally made it over to him said it all. He was totally enjoying himself; both the activity of the morning, and the company he kept, delighted him. My heart swelled just a little bit more as Dad wheeled him around the store, pointing out different types of tools and supplies and paraphernalia, asking Jack to repeat each new word.  Repeat he did and peals of laughter followed after each high-five and fist bump. People started looking at the two of them, smiling their knowing smiles at grandfather and grandson enjoying sweet moments together. "This is definitely my happy place, too," I whispered to the baby. 

Slice of Life Writing Challenge

As a (very pregnant) momma of two small children under the age of two, I've been feeling pretty bummed lately, about how little I feel I use my brain, my gifts, my talents... you know, those things that seem to make me ME, rather than Momma. Another writer asked me two months ago if I had written anything lately. I felt ashamed to say, "No. Nothing more than grocery lists and an occasional journal entry!" And the same is pretty much true now. 

Graciously, he said to me, "Well, to be fair, you're living your source material now. Not to worry, the time for writing will come when your kids are a little older." 

And, while I appreciate the grace he extended, I'll admit that the simple fact that I am NOT writing at all made me want to curl up and cry.  If I want to call myself a writer, then I MUST write! So, even though this baby is scheduled to arrive in thirteen days; the clean, unfolded laundry is piled high; and there are more unfinished home renovation projects in my house than completed ones, I'm going to attempt this writing challenge. I know I won't actually post something every day for the next 31 days, but I'm hoping that I will actually write something most of those days.  I'll have some free time, you know, when I take my "vacation at Pinnacle Health."   

Slice of LIfe Writing Challenge