SLAP: Another Lesson In The Meaning of Life

“Blessed are those who mourn, for they shall be comforted.”Matthew 5:4

You know the expression, What a difference a day makes?
The weekend's events make the above statement the truest sentence in the world.

For shame on me. I write this with a heavy humbled heart....

 One moment, I think I have found myself in the equivalent of my worst nightmare. The underworld of Mom's gathered in a Baptist Church basement eating chicken salad and coconut pie discussing the perils of parenthood. The maternal clan who lines up for their copy of the Raleigh Sunday paper for the triple coupon bounty. The Lysol wipe hoarders, the arts and crafts brigade, the stay at home posse commiserating the joys of children over a cup of lukewarm coffee.

I think, "This is my life?"

The next, I am strolling with my son on a gorgeous Saturday afternoon down an oak-lined neighborhood street when I'm stopped by a barrage of flashing blue lights and yellow police tape.
As distraught families explain in detail the sounds of the shots heard minutes before, detectives warn us to not disturb the bullet casings scattered at our feet. An 18 year old boy, gunned down in broad daylight, lies dead on the scene. A Mama has lost her baby.
This is the definition of anyone's worst nightmare.

I held my baby tight and rejoiced, "This is my life!"

Thank you Lord Jesus for the painful perspective and comfort this family as my boy and I take a short walk to be with them and their pain today.

I'm so sorry.

Just Enough, Thank You

"What do people gain from all their labors at which they toil under the sun? Generations come and generations go, but the earth remains forever. The sun rises and the sun sets, and hurries back to where it rises.
The wind blows to the south and turns to the north; round and round it goes,ever returning on its course. All streams flow into the sea, yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from, there they return again.

All things are wearisome, more than one can say.The eye never has enough of seeing, nor the ear its fill of hearing. What has been will be again,what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun."  Ecclesiastes 1:3-9

The wisest man in the world indeed. I do not need to read back over my BLAHg to know I've quoted this profound man and this stellar book times before. For believers and non-believers alike, it should rank high on best sellers lists, but alas Malcolm Gladwell still has people's ears.
Still it never ceases to amaze me the brilliance of King Solomon's writings and the truth they spout so poetically today.

It's been said that there are three kind of lives lived. Pleasant or Pleasure Seeking, Engaged or finding worth in work and role, or Meaningful which is using one's strengths for something larger than oneself. I admit for a long time I've been the peak experience, thrill seeker.
That joy is not sustainable. I'm learning this the hard way as baby=sunset bedtimes. And the notion that my one precious glass of Thank God He Is Asleep wine could quickly multiply its volume.

 A recurring theme has been rearing its head in my limited life at the moment. It is pouring from my pastor's mouth, spilling out onto my yoga mat, and running through the pages of my library book.  What are my boundaries?  And at what length (detriment) will I go to reach and surpass them? This chasing after the wind to win the hearts of man or attain the possessions of one's neighbor has very little to do with personal satisfaction but more with a heaping spoonful of discontented grief.

I tackle this subject because I've had to answer the question of "What do I do?" lately. And my response has elicited a number of disinterested and sympathetic glazes.

What do I do? I put on my cape and tights and give myself pep talks along the likes of "I will not let my 20 pound six month old manipulate my emotions today."

Wouldn't it be nice if we could use the side of the pool to push off and glide through life's grace and gravity? Instead we toil and chase. Guilt and doubt in oneself gurgles up from the depths as if being the Mama I am to the boy I have, is not enough.

Trust me, it is.


Do you believe God can get you where you are supposed to be and will you be content when you get there?

What We Allow is What Will Continue

"We live now upon an island amid many perils, and our hands are more often upon the bowstring than upon the harp." Haldir from The Fellowship of the Ring, J.R.R Tolkien

Our vehicle's windows were smashed out with a bat last night, less than forty yards away from my baby's sleeping head.  A simple case of vindictive vandalism.
I'm seething and not because of the inconvenience or the monetary loss. But because I've become a victim of this inconsequential world in which we've allowed. A byproduct of the haves and the entitled have nots is a fearless culture with a voracious appetite for instant gratification with no regard for how it is fed or the mess left behind.

We don't punish anymore!
And if I wasn't suffering from such lack a sleep, my fingers would have been wrapped so tightly around a trigger, that consequences wouldn't be a matter of discussion this early hour and the police report would look quite different.

Today, we remember the senseless and brutal attack on America's soil and our people twelve years ago. Benghazi's tragic events and their occurrence still goes unanswered. And now our nation sits on the brink of responding to the atrocities of a dictatorship and his use of chemical weapons on the innocent.
 If America is the anchor for global security...will we be uphold our stance, have we become pacifists or are we just sick and tired of intervening in someone elses' war?

In the address to implore our support for an attack on Syria, Our President said last night "The United States Military does not do pinpricks." Any message we send will be received...
And in rare form, Obama spoke no truer words than "sometimes resolutions and statements of condemnation are simply not enough." Active retribution is required. **
But is it really up to us to enforce our rules of ideals and principles? The answer is yes.
But instead of being the world's neighborhood watchman, seems our own turf would be a better start. And even in that, we are missing the mark.

As I stood in the street scattered with broken glass, I told the responding police officer this morning very similar words. His tactics weren't working. That he had to do more than drive around the block an extra time to deter the criminals.
Or what we allow will continue.

**Disclaimer: This is not a pro-war post

Big Bird Was Smart

It turns out the "Mommy's Blog" arena is rather saturated.  Apparently, I am not a novelty.
Newsflash: There are other women out there who have or had a six month old.

Here's an oldie but goodie proof of evidence.

The Baby Syndrome

"The glory of young men is their strength, gray hair the splendor of the old." Proverbs 20:29

I talked with my spunky 95 year old Grandma today.
She's truly remarkable in ways I can only hope to glean.
She was bemoaning the fact that while she can't completely explain it, she misses living on her own.

A recent fall where she smashed her head on the oven door has "aged her" and motivated my Aunt to move her closer to her reach. Now, displaced from her sweet church, the trusty Suburban, a kitchen stocked with her pans, and the commissary at the Army base where she could buy her bread and prescriptions...she feels lost. And even though she plays piano for two praise and worship services, she just doesn't get out like she used to.
Not to mention, the Assisted Living Chef doesn't know"diddly squat" about food. Her runny eggs and breakfast sausage are the highlight of her day. Besides her well done pork patty, she would rather starve then eat his tasteless, flaccid vegetables. And the food committee she has formed can't seem to rally change.
She mourns her old friends who knew what true Scrabble competition meant and can't believe her insurance sends people to help her bathe and make her bed. TWO things she does well, simply enjoys, and tells them so.

To sum it up, she's lost her independence. The life she has known is over.

I told her I couldn't relate more.

Sign of the Times