Divine Graffiti

Thoughts on spirituality, motherhood and just about anything else that floats my boat.

I Wish There Was a Religion that Followed Jesus October 13, 2008

Filed under: Bible, Christianity, Faith, love, religion — divinescribble @ 3:52 pm
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My brain freezes when I hear the word “religion”. I hate it.  An immediate psychological wall goes up in my mind when someone wants to talk to me about their religion or asks me about my religious beliefs. This steel door slams shut behind my eyes and I tune them out. Much of the modern world links “religion” to a set of rules and regulations that must be followed in order to stay out of hell or to achieve perfection in the next life. 

We love to label things and those of us who call ourselves Christians are tied inexorably to a religion that reeks of elitism, holier than thou-ness, condemnation for others and unconditional judgment for anyone who doesn’t agree. We follow the rules in the Bible and claim all Scripture to be God breathed and can’t see past that into anyone else’s frame of thought even long enough to listen to them. We stopped talking about Jesus and his teachings and focus on the rules. It is bad to break the rules.

Sadly, followers of Jesus Christ often don’t want the label of Christian anymore because it has turned into a religous belief rather than a faith or way of life. To say you’re a Christian frequently elicits a negative reaction or uncomfortable laughter followed by an equally stupid joke about lightening strikes. My own “non-Christian” friends who know I’m a Christian have voiced their surprise that I don’t make them feel guilty all the time like “other Christians” do.

Sunday News had an interview with a woman named Linda Gort. She is a nurse practitioner here and was the person “in the spotlight” yesterday morning. From my time as a pediatric nurse, I know her reputation as an advocate for women and children. She always had my respect professionally. One of the questions she was asked during her interview was about her faith. She described herself as a “philosophical Buddhist” who isn’t so good at keeping up with meditations, but she’s trying.  Her next sentence hit me really hard and I think she totally nailed how I’ve been feeling about the world’s view of Christians today:

But if there was a religion that followed the teachings of Jesus, I would follow it. I can’t see where people go hungry and churches build new additions.

I think that sums it up perfectly!

Unfortunately much of the world feels the same way.

 

The Things We Do For Love August 10, 2008

Filed under: children, family, love — divinescribble @ 3:50 pm
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Three days from now, my husband will hand over the keys to his office and walk away from a job that he worked hard to get.  He’s resigning as Director of Operations for Lancaster EMS in order to take care of his family. He’s doing it because he loves us.

What a wierd week it will be. Several months ago, we realized that someone needs to be physically present in our home nearly 24/7. Not for our children as much as for Andy’s parents. So, at the beginning of 2008, I severely cut back my hours at my business with the idea of being home.  Since that time, we have struggled with what direction to take. My being home has hurt us financially and I find myself working every single minute that my husband is home in the evenings and on weekends. That leaves little breathing room to hang out as a family.

At the end of June we came to the prayerful decision (at least I prayed quite a bit!) that it would be better for Andy to be home. Financially, we’ll do better if I work full time.  Emotionally, we’ll do better if I work full time. Domestically, we’ll do better if I work full time. Frankly…I should just stay away!! No…just kidding…but….

Andy is much more disciplined about the domestic chores. I’d rather play with the kids, surf the web and hang out by the pool than do laundry, clean, cook and grocery shop. I hate it. He likes it. In fact, in anticipation of next week at home, he already went out and bought more cleaning supplies!

Anyway, I would just like to say kudos to the man who would put up with me for nearly fifteen years and be willing to put aside his career to do the right thing by his parents and his children.  I know that for some people, this is a departure from what God intended when he created man as head of household, but for us it’s the right and sane thing to do.

Thanks, Babe!

 

Growing Old Gracefully…. July 19, 2008

Filed under: family, love — divinescribble @ 3:20 pm
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or fighting it every step of the way. I don’t know which is worse.  There is something to be said for surrounding yourself with friends while you are young so that you are not completely alone and lost when the time comes for you to need help.

Andy’s mom stopped driving about a month ago. Not because she wanted to, but because we asked her to. Or rather, her three children sat her down and said they didn’t think she was safe. She promised not to drive until she was evaluated. In her mind, she was going to prove to us that we are all nuts and she is perfectly fine! Never mind that her husband is scared when she’s driving or that multiple scrapes and scratches on the car predict otherwise.

She took an off-road evaluation first.  Testing of her memory, reaction time and other motor skills. According to her, she did fine “except that I was kind of slow getting my foot from the accelerator to the brake.”  And “it’s a good thing she asked me those questions to test my memory as quickly as she did, or I wouldn’t have remembered.” A rational person would find that a little scary. She thought it quite normal.

Five days ago she took an on-road evaluation with a driving instructor who does these evaluations full time. The guy has extremely gray hair; I guess I would too if I had his job. Super patient man! Mom thought she had passed this one too. “I only went in the wrong lane in the parking lot, so I think I did fine.”  The instructor warned me at the end of the test that he wasn’t going to pass her. I didn’t tell her that. Her doctor gets to do that one! Which he did yesterday.

It’s like watching a little kid slowly have all his toys taken from him. It’s pitiful and sad and what makes it worse is that they both fight each of these stages as though they can hold back time and all the lousiness of getting old will go away. If they don’t deal with it, it simply won’t cause a problem! And they are alone. They have not developed a group of friends to rely on in their life, so now they are extremely lost. There is no one to ask for help; their church least of all. Sunday mornings they have a ride to services, but that’s about it.  The real stinker is that even if they had someone to lean on, they wouldn’t. They just refuse to let on that there is a problem. They’ll get good at riding the public bus paid for by lottery tickets, I guess.

I just hope that when I’m there, I’ll be gracious enough to let others help me. I won’t run from reality or stop others from caring. I won’t be so proud and pigheaded or passive aggressive. I won’t live in denial or pretend there’s no pain. I’ll lean on my God instead of myself and I’ll manage somehow to grow through that stage with grace.

And when they come for my keys, they can have them. I’ll just buy me a pink stretch limo with a wine bar and leather and a really cute chauffer to drive me around! Life’s too much fun to stand by and watch.

 

 

 

Eat, Pray, Love June 29, 2008

Filed under: Bible, Christianity, Faith, child, family, love, religion — divinescribble @ 9:07 pm
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I just finished reading Elizabeth Gilbert’s book Eat, Pray, Love.  The story of her year long adventure through Italy, India and Bali.

I wish I had her time, patience, energy, money and scrap paper on which to write this epic journey.  I found myself jealous of her at every turn; she’s my age, dammit….why can’t I go to Bali????

But I think she has it backwards.

My book would be Pray, Love, Eat.

Prayer first. My life would be  nothing without the Divine communication I have with my God and the daily and hourly talks we have. Prayer must come first.  I cannot imagine my life or my existence without the Holy Divine, the Mysterious Spirit or the manifestation of Christ in my life. Prayer first.

Love next.  Without prayer, my love for my life, my family, my children and my husband would not exist.  Let’s get real…my love life with my husband would not exist.  Contraray to Gilbert’s experience, I make love to a man that I’ve been married to for 15 years.  I didn’t go to Bali to meet him (although Bali is an amazing place, my experiences in Penang being close to it).  My love for him and the physical we share gets deeper by the year.

Sex, (yes, people, Mennonite women have sex and like it) would not be the experience that it is.  My husband is the one ONE I have devoted my heart to and the only one to whom I’ll ever give my heart, soul and body.  The communion of two committed people has no comparison.  It might not happen as often as he’d like (I’m a sleepy chick most times) but it’s all very, very good when it does….and the prayer is part of it. God placed us together without question.

Then, the Eat part.

Come on, ladies…are you not hungry at all?  After sex I’m almost always hungry! Gilbert’s book did more for my hunger than anything. Eating Pizza, spaghetti, rotini and drinking a great bottle of Merlot at the same time is my idea of a complete evening!  Eating my way through Italy is a fantasty I’ll entertain for many years!  The first part of her book made me want to run away and just CHOW!!!

All that to say, Gilbert’s book is fantastic.  Her frank and humble admissions of vulnerability were refreshing. Not often does a woman my age admit that perfection is not in her repertoire.  I want everyone I know to read this book.  I can’t say I’d subscribe to her theology or lifestyle, but I do think that her independance and desire for truth are admirable.

I’m jealous she ate her way through Italy.

I wish I had the stamina and persistance to get up at dawn and pray through a yoga session. Her persistance in finding a higher power and spiritual grounding should be applauded.

I am not at all envious of her love though.  I have an amazingly committed man who for 15 years has put up with my crap and dealt with my foibles.  He’s watched me be pregnant, give birth and drool on my pillow. He’s watched me succeed and fail. He’s seen me sober and drunk. He’s fluctuated thirty pounds with me and moved house seven times.  I’ve had three babies and he still thinks I’m hot. He knows when my “time of the month” is approaching and he’s figured out how to make me smile.  He puts gas in my car and makes coffee at six.  He’s cut his ponytail and trimmed his beard, but he’s still the man I love. 

Eat Pray Love!  ????

No way!!!

Love, Love and Love.

The rest comes along as a side effect.

 

There’s A Fine Line Between Motherhood and Insanity… May 14, 2008

Filed under: Christianity, child, children, family, love, religion — divinescribble @ 12:47 pm
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…and I’m straddling it.

Working mothers vs. stay-at-home mothers has been an ongoing battle for many women. Hackles get raised, claws come up and tears pour. I don’t believe there is a mother alive who is not a “working mother.” Let’s get over the labels first.

My deepest desire is to be able to stay home with my children, raise them and spend all the time with them I can.

My other deepest desire is to own my own business, profit my family financially and have the independance that comes with being my own boss.

Right now, I am torn between those two things on a daily basis and, quite frankly, have been on this line for nearly 12 years.

There is no perfect model. The ultra-conservative religious (I did not say Christian) mother would say that I am not being the best I can be for my children by going to work outside the walls of my home.  She would say that my husband is letting us down by not being able to financially support the family on his own. She would say my children will be depressed, rebellious and needy.

The ultra-energetic liberal woman would say I should care for my own internal diva before becoming a slave to my family.  She would say that my husband and I are equal partners in this world, but because I pushed out babies, I should get some greater time off for myself. She would say that if I don’t do this, I will become depressed, rebellious, fornicatious and needy.

Neither of them are right and I’ve decided that I’m sick of the argument.

My internal diva is alive and well. My drive, passion and business acumen are steadily improving and my personal and family financial goals are in front of me. (Yes, this does include charity and giving because I do have a wide world view too). My children often don’t have me at the dinner table during a busy week at work, my son’s baseball games are not always attended by his mother and I do pay for daycare.

My internal mother is also alive and well. I love to cook dinner and spend time with my family. I would die without it. Over everything, I protect my family time fiercely and I don’t care who knows it. My children love me and although they miss me sometimes, they’ll be just fine. They are learning how to hang out with their dad in a way some kids never do.

So, I’m done with this argument among women.

We’re all in this together and without cooperation, support and understanding, we’ll kill each other with our judgments and that is not something I want my children to learn.

 

I Wanna Talk to Your Face! July 30, 2007

Filed under: child, children, family, humor, kisses, love — divinescribble @ 6:20 pm

    

He stood at the side of the pool dripping wet. With his little orange and blue swim suit, orange and blue life vest and a great big smile on his face, my youngest son wanted my attention! I had obviously been ignoring his constant “mommy” “Mommy” “MOMMY!” since it is a mantra I have tuned out effectively.  So, he changed it up and instead said, “I wanna talk to your face!” He reached down to where I was in the pool, put his little hands on my cheeks, brought his lips close to mine and then…gave me the biggest raspberry he could! That got my attention and I was his.

How often do we stroll through our day talking with people and not really listening to them? The constant whining and complaining all around us gets so droll and I, for one, tune it out. But, maybe they need someone to hear them for awhile. Even the petty, irritating stuff. Instead, we’re too busy holding our end of the conversation that we can’t wait for them to quit talking so we can start in.  Especially children.

I think God does that sometimes too. He wants to talk to our face. Look us in the eye. Get square with us and plant a big fat raspberry so we’ll pay attention. What does it take for us to live beyond ourselves a little and pay attention to someone else or listen more closely to what God has to say? I’ll bet that each day has a few raspberries in store if we’re willing to notice.

 

When Did Sexy Get So Lumpy? May 2, 2007

Filed under: beauty, love, marriage — divinescribble @ 5:49 pm

This post proves that I suffer from flight of ideas and that when I die, scientists will likely dissect parts of my brain to see what the heck happened.  I think women might appreciate what I say here a little more than men, but alas, I cannot keep men out of cyberspace.

Last night I told my husband that if he dies I’d have to keep all his t-shirts or I’d have nothing to sleep in. (For more on the intimate conversations I have with him see this post) It went something like this…

ME: “Do you like matching pjs on women? I mean, do you think it’s sexy when someone wears real pyjamas to bed?”

HIM: “I think it’s a little wierd.”

ME: “Why? Some women really want to please their husbands and try to look nice all the time. Does it bother you that I’m not like that? I sort of sleep in whatever is handy.”

HIM: “Are you comfortable?”

ME: “Yes.”

HIM: “Good.”

End of conversation. But all I kept thinking was when did sexy get so lumpy? He obviously doesn’t care what I wear to bed as long as I’m there to keep his toes warm. I think I’m cute most of the time. I mean, my husband is a very lucky guy in my opinion. I don’t spend too much time constructing outfits or wearing push up bras or anything like that, and yet he’s somewhat attracted to me after all these years. I now have lumps and bumps where there used to be flawlessness. I have marks and dimples and spider veins starting.

In the beginning, I was a little hippy chick wearing patchouli and tempting dreadlocks at times. I had those hair wraps with bells on the end (and I still would if it wasn’t for adulthood creeping in). I wore sarongs around the house and boycotted shoes and lingerie as much as possible. I was a teeny weeny size 4 and didn’t care too much about covering my midriff if it was hot outside. It had nothing to do with sex appeal, simple weather related clothing choices. But HE liked it and thought it was sexy and that’s what got this whole thing started. Then I started wearing khakis and sweaters and shoes with heels. I began shopping at Christopher & Banks instead of Salvation Army. My clothing choices got all grown up and middle-aged-suburban-mom-ish.

Except on the inside I’m still me and still forget to comb my hair after a shower. I still would rather go barefoot to the store and wear bells on my ankles. I still crank the tunes in the car with the window down and I still think Jerry Garcia is pretty good.  I wish I’d let that Hindu lady pierce my nose on the beach in the 80s and I am seriously considering a tattoo. I spent a night or two in the Everglades sleeping in a VW bus once and I’d do that again in a heartbeat (except the part about the cop in the morning looking in the window at me!)

I recently had a client pull out a quarter bag, seperate the seeds and stems and roll a big fat joint right in front of me…so he obviously thought I was still cool! Silly man.

I guess maybe my husband has realized that the lumps and bumps are merely signs of perfecting with age. He is somehow able to see past that (even with the lights on) and find the sexy somewhere. That’s a good thing, ’cause he’s pretty much stuck with it! I wish I could do that as well as he does.

 

Mary, Mother of Christ Resurrected April 9, 2007

Filed under: Bible, Christianity, Faith, Grace, apocrypha, baby, child, family, gnostic gospel, love, mary, religion, scripture — divinescribble @ 1:03 am

I am amazingly drawn to the life of Mary, mother of Christ. Popular culture paints her as a young woman to whom nothing extraordinary happened. She was young, naive and simple…until the day the angel Gabriel appeared to her.  Until then, we imagine, she had lived a quiet life in Nazareth, doing the things all other girls did. No mention of her immediate family, parents or siblings. But, when this angel showed up, she doesn’t seem afraid of him. Luke describes her as “troubled” and although Gabriel asked her not to “be afraid”, Luke seems to imply that she simply wondered what was up with this?! Luke 1:29 “Mary was greatly troubled at his words and wondered what kind of greeting this might be.”

According to the Nativity Gospel of Mary, extraordinary circumstances surrounded this young woman’s life long before this angelic visit and long before she herself was conceived.  Her father, Joachim, was greatly troubled at his barrenness. The high priest at that time belittled him saying he was unworthy of presenting his gifts before God because God had not seen fit to bless him with offspring. Joachim wandered into the pastures of the shepherds to hide himself in his sorrow. While he was there, an angel of the Lord appeared to him and assured him that he would indeed have a child. God had seen fit to “open the womb” of his wife, not to just give them children, but to bring glory to Himself. Sound familiar? This angel then appeared to Anna, his wife, and told her that she would bear a child, name her Mary and that this child would find favor with God. She would be a special child in the temple of the Lord.

According to this writing, Joseph was also called divinely to be the “root of Jesse” through which our Lord Jesus Christ would be born.  It seems that both Mary and Joseph were somewhat accustomed to divine intervention.

When Gabriel appeared to Mary, he filled her “chamber” with “great light.”  [Chap 9, vs. 3] “And the virgin, who was already well acquainted with angelic faces, and was not unused to the light from heaven, was neither terrified by the vision of the angel, nor astonished at the greatness of the light, but only perplexed by his words; and she began to consider of what nature a salutation so unusual could be, or what it could portend, or what end it could have. “

It seems to me that God would be mighty picky about the vessel in which his son would be nurtured. If God was to take the form of man and be born of a woman, a virgin, He would likely have groomed her from the moment she was conceived. I imagine Mary must have become quite used to angels checking in on her now and then, and, dare I say…she may have conversed on a more intimate level with YHWH who would ultimately become her son? It seems so fantastic and supernatural…yet she accepts it with such grace as though she always knew it would happen this way.

Christ loved his mother like no other person on earth…as I hope my children love me. As he hung crucified, he beseeched John to love her and asked her to take John as her son. Watching out for both of them as he left them behind. Unbearable heartache enjoined with unending love as the skies opened and God himself took on the pain and sin of the world in complete and utter surrender to love…while this woman who loved Him in all imaginable ways looked on. Her heart must have been bursting and breaking and flying high to be entwined with the unimaginable healing power of grace.

The Nativity Gospel of Mary as a historical account of events was likely handed down orally from generation to generation…much like our own family histories today. It does nothing to diminish the deity of Christ, rather delves into the history of his mother and I read it as a love note on her behalf.  Frederica Matthewes-Green has this wonderful essay on Mary that discusses writings pertaining to the Virgin Mary.  Many of us are afraid of her…we don’t want to fall too deeply into what some fear would be a worship of Mary on par with a worship of Christ…but I think it’s worth looking at this woman as a integral part of the life of Jesus Christ on a deeper level than just that of the birth mother.  Did she live her life waiting for her son to give of his? How much did she know or understand? I wonder, too, how much time Jesus spent with his mother after his resurrection…how could he stay away; how could she?

An amazing woman, to be sure…and one that I am desperately anxious to meet some day.

 

Unashamed Desire March 29, 2007

Filed under: Bible, Christianity, love, passion — divinescribble @ 1:55 pm

I posted this many months ago, but I wanted to bring it to the top of the blog again. These thoughts have come up in conversation lately with other bloggers and non bloggers, so I share it with you again.


Unashamed Desire

I have fallen in love many times in my life. At least, I think so. The heart fluttering, sweaty palms kind of nausea that we come to recognize as falling hard. I have never been a man, but I imagine these feelings are similar for them. I have watched otherwise normal men I know get really foolish in the presence of women and can only imagine they are ready to buckle any minute. It’s great! If only it could be bottled and sprayed on every morning, the aroma of that kind of fresh new love would sustain us all through each crazy moment!

I remember the night I met my husband, I didn’t actual fall in love….I jumped feet first towards it and landed hard! And then I pursued this man. I called him all the time. I sent him balloons. I worked night shift and would stay up all day if it meant I’d get to hang out with him for a while. I memorized his voice, the way he walked, and I couldn’t get the thought of him out of my head. The first time he held me I nearly fainted, I felt so safe. He’d say things to me and I’d believe everything he told me about myself. He told me I was pretty, I was fun and one day that he loved me. I was relentless about wanting to be with him in every imaginable way. Nothing else in my agenda mattered if the promise of his time was there. I wanted to get to know everything about him. To learn his likes, his dislikes and what his dreams were. Every day I was excited to learn something new and I couldn’t wait to build a future with him!

I have begun to feel that unabashed, unembarrassed, anxious, impatient desire again. This time though,not with any man, but with my God. Jeremiah 1 says that before I was even a thought in a woman’s mind, He knew me. It doesn’t say that I was an afterthought or that I was someone He’d like to get to know, but that He already KNEW me! Wahoo! He has always known me, now I want to know him. He wants that too, and has made it really simple for me to do. In my hands, I hold His words and thoughts. He has written me a love letter and each morning I read another page. I have begun to read His Word as though it was written just for me. Each letter penned with love and a passionate desire for me to learn to know Him and everything He dreams of. I want to immerse myself in Him. Not only to hide His words in my heart in order to stay blameless, but to turn to his Word for everything. My first answer to any question should come from His heart, not my own. I want to drown in his love, to breathe out everything that I breathe in from his letter to me. Each night as I lay down, I tell Him that I can’t wait to talk with Him again in the morning, and the excitement I get when He wakes me is awesome! It’s that fresh new love, sweaty palms, crazy excited feeling again. I can’t wait to hear what fantastic thing He’ll teach me about my life and his desires today.

I have found in Him my perfect friend, wholly sovereign authority in my life and the lover of my soul. In the words of Moses to the Lord, “You have said, ‘I know you by name and you have found favor with me.’ If you are pleased with me, teach me your ways so I may know you and continue to find favor with you.”

 

The Love of the Father March 28, 2007

Filed under: Amish shooting, Christianity, Faith, Grace, Mennonite, anger, baby, child, family, father, forgiveness, healing, love, mother — divinescribble @ 1:07 pm

In early October, 2006, a man walked into an Amish school armed with rifles, pistols and deep pain. No one will ever understand why he chose to execute a group of young Amish girls; we don’t need to. It is the aftermath of that day that will live forever in the lives of so many people all over the world and the consequences of his deeds are far reaching in ways that no one expected.

Three nights ago, Andy and I witnessed God’s healing and grace in action. We were invited to visit with a little 8 year old girl who bears the scars of that day in October. I will call her Miss S. Andy was one of the people who treated her that day. I remember the evening after the shooting, he was telling me how feisty she was. With the extent of her injuries, he tried to intubate her to help her to breathe and she kept pushing him away. He desperately hoped that meant she would make it through. She did. And when we walked into her kitchen she ran up to him and laughingly said, “I look better than I did the last time you saw me!”

As we sat in their living room, we heard her father’s stories of how brave she was, how miraculous her healing and what an impact she had on the staff at the hospital who worked with her. He told of daily visits to the hospital, relying on others to drive them. Only on Sundays were they unable to be with her. Aunts, grandfather and parents; someone was always with her. As he spoke, tears threatened to fall, but he had a never ending smile on his face as he watched his daughter. Their family also lost a daughter to a bullet, but they do not dwell on her pain or death. They focus on the miracle walking around their house.

While we were there, two other families stopped by to visit. They didn’t know we would be there, it was just their normal visiting night. God planned it though, I am sure. One couple lost their daughter that day. Another man was a first responder and a member of their church and knew the girls. He had been the first to aid the little one Andy took care of.

The living room was crowded with chairs for the 8 adults and we counted nearly 12 children from age 12 to 4 weeks running in and out of the room. Listening to the Amish men speak of their experiences that day and reliving their roles was so healing for us. They asked questions of each other. “Where were you?”  “What happened next?” and “When did you find out who passed away?”.  They discussed helicopters, the speed of the police cars responding and the dynamics of the whole event in very factual terms. I felt as though I was sitting in a group therapy session. Nearly six months later, and these parents still pour out their memories and questions to eachother in order to unload their grief.

The most incredible moment for me was a conversation between the first responder and a mother whose daughter had died. He said he had been struggling with the fact that he could have identified each of the girls and let their parents know which hospital their child was sent to or what their physical condition was. But he didn’t, and it wasn’t until much later that night that parents knew the fate of their children.  The mother of the slain girl looked at him and said, “If I had known what had happend to (her), that she had passed away, I would have left the school and gone home. Instead, I stayed with my friends and waited. I am glad you didn’t tell me or I would have been alone all day.”

In our Sunday School class we are studying what Mennonites believe. Woven into all that discussion is the idea of community as a place to study scripture, learn and work together. These Amish families that night embodied that perfectly. They relied on each other to hold them up each day and listening to them talk together for hours about thier experiences was healing for them and for Andy and I.

Miss S never stopped smiling or kissing me after she opened the gift we brought her. Her father noted that the hospital wasn’t able to take the “silly” out of her when they removed part of her brain! His obvious love for her was palpable.

Both of her parents repeatedly stated that without God carrying them through they would have cracked up. They have received hundreds of letters and cards from around the world from people who want to live their lives differently and with less anger now that they have witnessed forgiveness and grace from the Amish parents. To them, that makes it all worthwhile. They even received word of a country closed to the Bible that was allowed to view footage of the event and send their condolences through their government controlled mail system. The idea that the murder of little Amish girls in rural Lancaster county touched the lives of people behind a communist curtain was amazing to their parents and made God so much more evident in the aftermath.

Miss S’s father asked me if I thought the effect of this would continue or if it was just a short lived “one day” ripple of grace. I told him that I think that his children and the children in his community will be testament to Christ for the rest of their lives. I believe that.

The love of a father for his children so close to the love of The Father for us. Amazing grace and peace where there could be so much anger and fear.

The new school building is nearly ready and the kids are excited to use it. That building itself is a testament to faith and trust.

We healed that night a little, I know Andy did. So did the parents we met with and the children playing around us. Miss S has a brand new baby sister to love and 6 brothers to take care of her. She is a little bit of a celebrity and a very happy little girl. Her scars are hidden with a new head of hair and her vision is returning to normal. She bears little outward scars of the fearful events of that day in October and inwardly, I think she’s just fine.