Thursday, August 23, 2007

Ten Cent Therapy.

It’s ‘back to school’ time here in the good ol’ U. S. of A.

Yes, it is very strange to begin a school year way at the end of the calendar year. Yes, it is odd that kids here don’t get their long break over Christmas and New Year, as God intended. My Aussie readers will agree with me completely on these points.

However, my US readers will know right away that this is the time of year for ‘back to school’ sales bargains.

Since we begin our (home) school year in January (and I’m not the best at planning five months ahead of time) we don’t benefit a whole lot from these sales. I suppose if I got my act together I could buy up now and have big shiny piles of stationery (my Dad’s favourite thing in the world) beckoning us between now and the New Year. Realistically though, stuff doesn’t cost all that much here at the worst of times anyway.

All this doesn’t stop me from getting excited when I go through Wal-Mart lately – hey, I am my father’s daughter. Crisp, new folders (all the little metal rings still meet up properly, unlike every single one the kids have ever got their hands on). Solid packets of pencils, with all the colours still present and accounted for. Textas (that’s ‘markers’, y’all), erasers, staplers… notebooks.

Ten cent notebooks. Ah, heaven. I couldn’t help myself, I bought a bunch. Then I went back later and bought a bunch more. It was a lot easier to buy a stack of them than to buy only two (instead of the usual three).

At some point we may even use some of them for school.

At the moment, though, they’re therapy.

Laura and Oli now carry one with them, almost everywhere. Sam appears often in the pages. We are assured this is healthy.

It can be hard to know how to answer people when they ask how the kids are handling all this. We have some idea, but quite a lot of what is going on in their heads is still a mystery to us. We have to trust that their hearts and minds are being kept safe by the Father who knows them best.

But, for now, we are thankful for midnight conversations and ten cent notebooks.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

Oh.

Oh, what a terrible cost,
To lose a son to save the lost,
To have to pay a price so dear,
God, you have no idea.

Oh, what a terrible pain,
To meet with grieving once again,
To know the hurt when loved ones go,
God, you just don't know.

Oh, what a terrible mess,
The aftermath - our great distress,
To walk this sharp and barren land,
God, you don't understand.

Oh, what a terrible weight,
To choose to love, and not to hate,
When dark ones whisper, 'Just forget it',
God, you just don't get it.

Oh, what a terrible Grace,
The blood, and the sweat,
...and the tears on His face,
To choose to pay a price so dear,
God, you've already been here.

(July 22/07)