Waking up.

This is not intended to be humorous. There's your warning.
I've been praying for a few years that God would wake me up again. I think I've written about this before. "Wake up baby" etc.... But I've been praying and longing that my spirit would FEEL deeply, that I would be moved to action, that I would react to things with opinion and energy, that apathy would be foreign to me again. It's been strange to feel like a very significant part of your spirit is sleeping. I don't like it and honestly, just haven't felt like myself for a while.
However, if I pause for even a few moments (and I AM right now. Which means my children are asleep peacefully. Beautiful gifts) and reflect over even the last 6 months, it is painful and powerful to attest to the events and catastrophes that are stirring me again. Truthfully, these should move anyone to tears, or laughing, or something . . .. some reaction that attests to a living being behind it.
I don't want to write about some of these things, and I know you won't like reading them . . . in a much different way than you distaste reading about the details of rotavirus . . . but for the sake of accurately documenting our lives - the outside parts and the inside soulish parts - I will include them.
1. Some of my old college friends lost their second child in a year in a horrible, tragic way. Losing a child is always horrible and tragic, but this is especially so. Losing children is absolutely unparalleled in the ways of grief and shock and confusion. It is hellish. I don't really know what this is like, as my spoonfuls of these emotions grossly pale to what I know these dear parents and extended family have endured. Even so, my own response to their tragedy has been gripping, sobering, confusing, etc...
2. I had another baby. Sweet Vera Elizabeth. And she is . . . . oh she is. Content but still energetic, a tiny bit shy, beautiful and cuddly. Can't get enough of her. Add her sweetness to his royal rowdy. Sort of a crazy house sometimes.
3. My sister, Mel, and family moved to Rajpur India less than 2 weeks after Vera's birth for an indefinite length of time. They are about rescuing, rebuilding, becoming the in-between for the poor and those who have means for them not to be poor. They work with lepers and recovering addicts and street kids and create business for local artisans (who also happen to be lepers and recovering addicts and street kids). I have their web address as a link on my page if you want to know more. But I miss them. Skype is great, but I miss being together and watching my son wrestle hers. I miss hugging her skinny lanky self. But I LOVE what they are doing, love living it through them.
4. A homeless man drowned in the river by our house this summer. I drove home one day to happen upon half of the emergency vehicles and all of the news reporters and many of the locals surrounding the scene. Both kids asleep in the back, I circled three times and witnessed them pulling the body out. It was terrible. And he hadn't been in the water for just a few hours. I still can't get over it. It made me feel so lonely for some reason. Did anyone miss you, Mr. Homeless? Why did the neighbors act like it wasn't that big of a deal? You are a big deal, Mr. Homeless. You were a human being no less than I am. Every time I now go by the scene I get quiet. I've noticed that I try to look your homeless friends in the eyes more. Try to have conversations with them like I might have with my friends. Scold myself for making judgments or giving in to fear. Even if I can't really give them a home and a fresh start, I can give them some dignity and a smile and a conversation.
5. My brother and his wife Holly had another baby, Isaac Michael. Warrick's new wrestle-me-play-trucks-forget-the-dolls buddy. So exciting, so amazing.
6. A friend of my brother, who also happens to be a Bhutanese refugee and a Hindi, told him recently that he believes that Jesus is who He claims to be . . . the Son of God. And that He wants to know Jesus and be like Him. This is a very very big deal. We don't really get the oppressive nature of some of the other world religions, and what individuals risk should they abandon their cultural "religion". Knowing what little I do, I know this statement and the actions that have followed are of landslide quality.
7. Some of my other college friends are currently facing a huge injustice. It seems, on paper at least, that they will lose their adopted daughter who is now 2 1/2 years old. They've been in legal battles for her for at least 2 of those years. They have done everything right but because of the "law" and the tiny lies of some of the people involved, the adoption may be reversed. Reversed isn't the right word . . . I don't know what is . . . . "horrible", "irrational", "inhumane". When should it ever be "lawful" to rip a healthy family apart? I can't get into this right now as it's too soon . . . too heavy right now. How do you explain these things to a child? Can hardly stomach it.
8. WSU hosted their annual "Frostbite" Classic Regatta this past weekend. We had a picnic and watched the "boat races". I couldn't help myself. My old competitive, never-give-up girl swelled out of me and I found myself loudly cheering on perfect strangers. Kids in boats who were hoping the finish line was just 2 strokes away. 2700 meters of tearing pain. I remember. My heart rate was racing with them. I've come to realize that it doesn't matter how in or out of shape I may be, I will still always be a competitor. I just am. Warrick even mimicked my cheering. "Do it! Do it!" From my, "You can do it You're almost there!" Today, there was a peaceful man leisurely (if you can say leisurely about rowing) stroking his way down the river, clearly not racing, and Warrick hung out sideways from his stroller and screamed, "DO IT! DO IT!" I loved it.
These are just the first 8 that came to mind. I could have written a lengthy entry about each one, but the days are full and I don't want to forget. I apologize for the ping-ponging of emotion and lack of transition. I AM waking up and it is good. Even though some of these things are truly horrific, I'm grateful that in it, our Sweet Jesus is raising my stilled soul again.