I am obsessed. My thoughts and emotions are consumed by my heartbreak. Too dramatic? Perhaps, but also far too true. To be honest it is difficult to find words to explain what I am thinking and feeling because I cannot even get them organized in my own head. I am scattered and distracted but also convicted that I have to do what small I can to make a positive influence. My thoughts and therefore my writing is going to be scattered and may be hard to follow. I apologize in advance.

Let me back up first. For those of you who have noticed my recent Facebook activity you probably can gather where my thoughts are. For those of you who have not, let me explain. About two weeks ago a lovely 8 year old girl, Lydia, died as a result of serious abuse from her parents, Kevin and Elizabeth Schatz. Her younger sister was hospitalized in critical condition because of the same session. I say session because through the other 7 children in the house (9 total, 6 biological, 3 adopted), we know that these beatings were a regular occurrence. The parents followed the “teachings” of the No Greater Joy “Ministries” and the founders Michael and Debi Pearl. I will not go into depth here what these two teach, but the Schatzes followed their teachings and took to beating their children with a length of plumbing tubing as a way to train their children to be sinless, which is only part of the heinous ideas the Pearls encourage. If you want to know the story in better detail I encourage you to read the blogs I have been reading, which are written by and husband and wife that knew the Schatz family – Laurie & Paul.

** Side note - I think that it is important to know all I can about things like this but I refuse to sully this blog by linking to the Pearls’ website. They are denying all responsibility for this death, for the explosion within this family and their community. It is also important to know this is not the first child to die as a result of their teachings. However, that is your choice and I will not force those evils upon you.

This story has touched me on such a deep level that I simply must act. It is like breathing – if I do not do it I will most certainly die. I have always been a tender person, sensitive, compassionate, quick to cry, and deeply feeling. I used to think this was in a flaw of mine. I would be teased by friends, family and schoolmates for crying at the drop of a hat, frequently over pains that did not directly effect me, or effected my beyond what was considered appropriate. I now know that God made me this way and that these traits are actually gifts He has given me to use to glorify Him.

But how? What am I supposed to do? As I struggle to get my thoughts organized I write. I welcome you to hear what I am thinking and offer any opinions, thoughts or whatever.

First it begins at the “teachings” from the Pearls and the churches that support their beliefs. I know that I know that I know that the idea of sinless human is an impossible and foolish idea. However there are teachers and pastors and denominations that vehemently believe and teach this – that there is some way we can earn heaven, earn God’s favor and grace by our actions and performance. The Bible plainly says otherwise again and again. “No one can come to the Father except through Me,” ring any bells? (John 14:6)

These hate filled teachings (if you can even call them that), are in my opinion born from the deepest pits of hell, are disguised as God’s plan for us and lead people to believe that our God is an angry, abusive, hateful God just waiting fo rus to mess up so he can lay into us. The exact opposite is true! He loves us! He made us just so he could love us! We are His pride, His treasure, His masterpieces! He loves us with a fierceness we cannot imagine! And my heart breaks for all the poor souls, even the Pearls, who believe otherwise.
(For proof see Romans 5:5, 8, and 8:38, 2Timothy 1:7, 1John 4:7 just to name a few.)

So I sit here, furiously typing and thinking (frustrated that I cannot match the two better,) and praying that God will reveal to me why He made me the way He did, and how He wishes me to use my gifts of tears and a servant’s-heart to His glory. I am so sad for the family, the children, their friends, and even so sad for the parents. More I am so angry at the parents, their church, the Pearls and anyone else who spreads this brand of fear, hate and lies. And in my anger I cling to these words:

" Dear friends, let us continue to love one another, for love comes from God. Anyone who loves is born of God and knows God. But anyone who does not love does not know God--for God is love. God showed how much he loved us by sending his only Son into the world so that we might have eternal life through him. This is real love. It is not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as a sacrifice to take away our sins. Dear friends, since God loved us that much, we surely ought to love each other. No one has ever seen God. But if we love each other, God lives in us, and his love has been brought to full expression through us. And God has given us his Spirit as proof that we live in him and he in us. . . And as we live in God, our love grows more perfect. So we will not be afraid on the day of judgment, but we can face him with confidence because we are like Christ here in this world. Such love has no fear because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of judgment, and this shows that his love has not been perfected in us. "
1 John 4: 7-13, 17-18

Faith Like a Child

Today E was happily playing by herself in her room. She was playing with checker pieces, stacking and counting and organizing them by their color or the Disney Princess that was on them. She was so quiet and content I became concerned and called out to her. Hearing her voice was not enough reassurance so I hurried up the stairs to SEE her. I was not worried that she was injured or into anything she shouldn't be, but she still I needed to see her. I missed her, even though she had only been away from me for a short time.

As I type this I am having a revelation. (God always uses my kids to get to me!) It makes me realize how often I am not with Him, how often I am quiet from Him and how He might feel about all this. He calls out to me to make sure I am OK. If my answer does not convince Him, He comes to me closer with a touch, a song or through a friend. He misses me and just wants me to be with Him ALL THE TIME!

A few minutes passed and E came downstairs with a game to play. It is one of those fishing games where the base spins and the fish's mouths open and you try to hook them. She and I put new batteries in it and she was off and running. After a few minutes I was able to join her and we noticed the game was spinning slowly. Then it stopped. We shut it off and then back on. Nothing. We shut it off for longer and when she turned it back on it worked. Then I noticed the smell. Anyone with toys that have small motors knows that smell. Like hot plastic or something. Not a good sign.

We finished our game with me gently helping the game spin. When we were done I explained the game was broken so we could not play it anymore. E asked if I could change the batteries. I explained to her that it was not a problem with the batteries but with the motor. "Can you change the motor?" she asked, fully confident my answer would be "Of course!" Did I tell you I did NOT graduate from MIT? Yeah. This is beyond my scope. I was so touched though by her faith in me and her honest confusion that I could not fix this. She was not upset about it, just perplexed. As I type she is still playing with the game, mixing the fish up, arranging and rearranging them in the game, and trying to spin it by hand and fish at the same time. I guess that is my cue to get off the computer and go play with my daughter some more.

I [Heart] Thanksgiving!!!

For as long as I can remember, Thanksgiving has been one of my favorite holidays. As a child it was my parents that hosted all of our family and friends for dinner. Grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, Cousins, and friends would come over, each bringing a dish to share. Our house would be filled with talking and laughter. The kids would run around and play. If it was snowy we would sled, build snowmen and have snowball fights. Sometimes even the adults would join in! My cousin's Portuguese grandma (Vovo) would bring her fabulous pastries which we would all fight to get to first. My dad would wake up early to start his turkey, which he would slave over all day. Frequently the Sunday before we would have a Pre-Thanksgiving feast to make sure we have enough food for everyone! There was usually about 30 people in our tiny house. I can remember bringing in the old picnic table from outside just so most people could find a seat, and still we had to fight for a spot to sit down. Dad would get frustrated because everyone wanted to gather in the kitchen, but in the end always said that it was one of the best Thanksgivings ever.

Now as a parent it is such a blessing that my family has continued this tradition. My cousin and her husband host now since my parents have moved out of state. We still typically have 20-30 people there and Vovo still brings her amazing pastries.

This consistency is in thanks to my Grandpa on my mom’s side, who always instilled that family comes first. He made his six children promise to keep getting together for the holidays and that promise has since been upheld by my generation. I am so fortunate that I have this foundation on which to build my family. In troubled times I rely on legacies like these. It is one of the many things we give thanks for.

My Aunt Mary (my mom's sister. They look like twins but aren't. Their youngest brothers are though.)

Aunt Maria and her mom (Vovo )

Cousin Sarah and her handsome men, Collin and Adam

Vovo, our oldest living relative, and my cousin Ben's daughter Emily, the youngest and her Great-Granddaughter

Aunt Kathleen and Cousin Sarah (the hostess with the mostest!)

Ten Years

Anniversaries are weird. Both good and bad – they are all weird. Not in a bad way but in the way they affect me. I almost always spend the entire day remembering where I was and what I was doing at this exact time. It all seems so fresh in my mind and heart.

Today is the anniversary of the Columbine High School shootings. I know the nation and even the world may be remembering this. There will be an article in the paper or a segment on the news reflecting back on what happened that day and how things have changed since.

Ten years ago today I was engaged to my husband, living in a fabulous apartment near downtown, and working at a wonderful office in Denver. I rarely thought about Columbine or the people there, even though I had graduated from there just a few years earlier. Then as a coworker came in from lunch she said that there was a shooting at a high school in Littleton. Imagine my surprise when she told me it was my typical, beige, suburban alma mater. I thought for sure it was some punk kid trying to be a “gangsta” or something. I certainly never imagined the horrors that would unfold.

My coworkers covered my duties so I could watch the news coverage in a small coffee room. I stood there in disbelief; numb as I watched SWAT teams swarm the building I spent so much time in. It had been remodeled and expanded after I graduated so I could not picture the scenarios that would unfold. All I could think about were the teachers I knew and the younger siblings of friends I thought might still be students. I quickly sent an email to one of the few friends I was still in touch with. She was stationed in South Korea and her youngest sister was a senior. I later found out that her sister was planning to work on a paper in the library but all the computers were being used. She instead headed to her other sister’s house and was leaving the front of the building as Brian and Dylan were entering the back. That makes me shudder even today.

As the details poured out and names were released I racked my brain trying to remember if the names were familiar. Then they said that a teacher was killed. Dave Sanders. Coach. He was a good man and a good teacher. I had him one semester. One of his daughters was a friend of mine. I ached for her. I saw my old theatre teacher breaking down in a student's arms and wished I was there for her too. I worried about another friend’s sister and saw her that evening on the coverage of a candlelight vigil held at my old church. That is when I first broke down and I sobbed myself to sleep.

Now ten years later I look at the clock and think about how it was just an average day. It was sunny and cool. All of those normal everyday things were happening. And in an instant that all changed. Not just for me or my high school, but for all schools in our country and so many countless people across the world.

The students graduating from high school this year were in the 2nd grade when the shooting happened. Chances are they do not remember it. They have never known a school without locked doors, closed-circuit cameras, police on campus, and lockdown drills. Their sociology books have always covered Columbine. The memorial wall always a part of their landscape.

Now as a parent I have fears my parents never had. The idea of a child planning an attack like those at Columbine, Jonesboro, and others were incomprehensible. The generation before mine sent their kids to school trusting they were safe. Their biggest worries were that their child may smoke behind the gym or skip geometry. Parents of students today send their kids to school praying the bully intervention and security measures are enough to keep their kids safe for one more day. Our hearts lurch whenever a lockdown is put into place.

I am not sure how I am going to spend the day today. Remembering. Praying. Perhaps I will venture down to Littleton. Check out the Memorial. Bring some flowers. Or just stay home and thank God for the blessings he has given me, if only for today.

A Must-Follow Blog

I love to share things I find useful, interesting, and fun. This blog is no different. The author, someone I am proud to know, is so full of wisdom and grace and that shows in her writtings which are about her parenting style and techniques. Not only is she a great mom, but she is a trained educator and counselor so she knows her stuff. Her blog is new so it will not take you long to get caught up. After reading her 4 entries, I am so energized and pumped up about being a better parent to my kids! Check it out and let her (and me) know what you think!

Parenting What I Preach

Happy Blogging!