As a Boy Thinketh: Homeschooling, Again I withdrew our two young sons, Sam and Charlie from public school on Thursday to homeschool, again. And I have no horror story to report. To all the teachers and administrators, I know your work is impossible. This is not about any one shortcoming or failure, this is about an opportunity. Some of you know me, but if you don’t we have six children. The oldest is 24, the youngest is six. And we …
How do you know if you should help suffering children? For many of us, this question is utterly preposterous. Of course. What a ridiculous query. I speak from experience. There is a reason I can go where I am about to go – because I said no to an injured 3-month-old baby boy. I believed that foster care was a noble calling, but I know me, I am hardly noble. So in an effort to trick the system, God, the …
When our oldest vandal son, Sam was about 3 he carried two Hotwheels cars with him wherever he went. One in each hand. He wouldn’t let them go. On an outing to Target, as I stood in the checkout line Sam drove his two cars over the Snickers display making boy noises. An elderly woman from one line over finished her purchase and made her way toward us. “Excuse me,” she touched my arm. “Yes?” I inquired. “Your son is …
It’s a Jungle, Not a Petting Zoo Our oldest daughter, Maggie, is in Costa Rica with her college friends. They went together to celebrate their graduation. Also, to “play with sloths.” This has been a lifelong goal of Maggie’s. Maggie has walked a favored path. She’s been swimming on the beaches of Venezuela, Costa Rica, and Spain. She’s wandered hills in Scottland, England, and Ireland. She’s had Belgium waffles… in Belgium. Crème Brule under the Eiffel Tower, and horse meat …
Today is a Monday if there ever was a Monday. Up to my neck in babies, zits and stolen cars. God, help me believe. Help me believe, help my unbelief. I have to go to the bank to redeposit a deposit that wasn’t properly deposited the first time I deposited it. The foster-love has an extended visit… her time with us is drawing to a close. My battery in my car is dead. I have a cold. And I am up …
Grief drenched me. From the windows of my bedroom on the second story of our home on our 640-acre ranch, I could see the sky morphing from daytime to a water colored twilight. The master bedroom glowed with purple hues. My husband Justin, who always generous and thoughtful, had excused me for the evening. I could hear the acquainted sundown clamor. One of the college children was home to help. Our 14-year-old daughter would help too. The three youngest, our …
