Showing posts from 2020

Perspective, Anxiety, & A Ramble

What if I told you the mark of the beast was your cell phone ? Or social media? Would you be as irrationally outraged? Did you know that at one time the barcode was thought to be the mark of the beast? Or that the microchip you’re so worried about is in your hand right now as your reading this—in your phone?  Do you really read all of those terms and conditions that you accept so freely?? If you did, then I’d be willing to bet that a “microchip vaccine” would be the last of your worries.  There’s nothing in phase 3 about a vaccine. We make it to Phase 2 and schools can open.  Sure, there will be changes. But here’s a newsflash: There are always changes! And just for good measure: schools are not a daycare.  Stop believing and sharing everything you see on the internet. Y’all, just stop.  Stop posting every little and big conspiracy theory. Y’all, stop. Seriously.  I’ve always said that I’d like to think I’d stand up if I’d have lived during th

Corona Virus Journals: Week One

Corona Virus Journals: Week One Sunday, March 15 I told my mom to please stay home. I told my dad to stay away from people. My mom tearfully agreed.  My dad somberly told me of measures he would be taking. My mom choked on her tears as she said, “Please don’t let it be a month before I see y’all or those babies. Please FaceTime me.” I choked on tears as this became real for me.  I am not sure when it happened, but my parents got older. And I am not real sure how to process that. Day 1: Monday, March 16 6 kids. Three 10 year olds. A 6 year old. A 7 year old. A 1 year old. No schedule. Lots of snacks in the house. I will make it. Day 2: Tuesday, March 17 No green was worn. 5 kids. Missing one 10 year old. We are trying our best at establishing a routine.  Getting dressed is a must for us all. We have to do that.  Today, I started marking off the days on the calendar. Today, I was already losing track of the day.  I was abl

To the woman who birthed my children

To the woman who birthed my children  I didn’t know you while you walked this earth.  I don’t have memories of you or with you. I don’t have a knowledge of how your voice sounded—how you smelled— or how you laughed. I don’t have memories of you to share at all.  But, what I do share with you is a love of your—my—our children.  In fact, the only version I know of you is through the stories of memories from your children. Isn’t that the best way to be remembered?  I know that you prayed for me. While you were fighting for your life, you were praying for me. Maybe not by name, but specifically for the new momma your children would have.  It’s hard for me to fathom the strength you had to do that, when I look into the eyes of the child I did carry. When I look into her eyes, I can’t imagine the resolve you had within yourself that you wouldn’t see Gracee and Titus grow up. Oh, the faith you had to believe He would take care of your babies.   I often wonder, if God ga