that crazy old woman in the shoe

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe. She had so many children, she didn't know what to do;
She gave them some broth without any bread;
Then whipped them all soundly and put them to bed.*

Wow, this was the fastest week! And I have been wanting to write and give everyone an update on how things are here in the Little House under the Big Trees all week--some of my postings in the past couple of weeks have alluded to some pretty challenging parenting moments and overall household negativity, and now that it is over (for now!), I thought it might be good to blog about it in case some of you were worried, and also to finish processing it in my own mind. So I have been writing, in fits and spurts, whenever I have a few free moments, and have been glad that if I have not had any brilliant new postings for your amusement, at least I seem to have my priorities in order. Work before pleasure, family before work! ; )

I have been meaning to write something since a week ago Thursday, when we had a really good day. I am saying we had the first even remotely good day in several weeks, and it was a really good one! For the first time in three weeks I had energy and was bustling around cleaning and enjoying feeling pretty healthy. For the first time in almost as long the girls had a whole day in which everyone had a good attitude and not a single ugly meltdown. We ended up not having any classes to go to that day, and so we stayed home and did school and cleaned. Being productive always feels good. 6 year old M had the task of vacuuming and dusting in the living room under and around our bed, and she took an hour to finish, and did a good job staying on task and not grumbling. Wow. (I love that the girls are getting old enough to really help out! The older I get, the harder it is to creep into all those low and tight spaces for cleaning! Nothin' like a houseful of helper monkeys at my beck and call! ; )

I should have posted that day, because it would have been one of those so joyful, praise God kind of posts, which I do miss. : )

That Friday, Sat and Sun were good too--and then WHAM came this past Monday, and an AWFUL day. The two younger kids were fine, but the two older ones completely melted down for no discernible reason, and each had periods of yelling, crying temper trantrums. Wow. Tuesday was also not as good, with daughter #3 acting up a little too. No temper trantrums, which was good, but girls arguing with one another and me, not being quick to obey, grumbling about their tasks, not being focused on their work.

To some of you, that may not seem like very poor behaviour, but I had been so enjoying the good days we had had previously that I was cracking down on the little insurgencies this week, so they wouldn't spiral down again into a worse cycle. Let me tell you, those past three weeks were awful: it seemed like every little thing I said to a child was instantly met with arguing and fussing, and they argued with each other, and did mean things to each other on purpose, and did the opposite of what they knew was right or had just been told to do, and seemed to spend every moment of every day choosing to use their mouths and hands and attitudes to generally make our home a yucky place. And I was sick for those weeks too, which just made everything so much harder. And D was working a lot, including over many evenings and weekends, so was not available to help parent much of the time. And the whole nap/class schedule is out of whack, so that I never had all the kids quiet at the same time during the day, so was not having any mental recharging time, which makes such a different in my parenting abilities in any normal day, let alone a rough day.

But the hardest thing was that all three girls were doing all this unpleasant behaviour at the same time, which has never happened before. They have each had their phases, but one girl lashing out in ugliness is managable--all three doing it at once was really, really something I was not prepared for. Seriously, I was like the old woman in the shoe, wondering, "Why, oh Lord, why???" and "What do I do now???!!!" And putting them to bed at 6:30 p.m. on at least one occassion.**

During those three weeks of misery, I yelled a lot. And probably set a horrible example of using our mouths to build up others in love. I know I was really grouchy--which is understandable since I was not feeling good and was chronically trapped in a houseful of unpleasant children with not even my own room to escape to for a few minutes. But it may be understandable, but is not excusable--as I am trying to teach the girls, whatever our circumstances are, we always have choices to make. And especially if I believe I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, then there is no reason I cannot make the good choice, no matter how hard it is. I can choose to be patient and kind, forgiving and long-suffering--no matter how terrible my children are behaving.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.-- from I Corinthians Chapter 13, the "Love Chapter"

In fact, telling ourselves things like "They are making me angry" and "I can't help being mad" is just setting ourselves up for misery. Those are lies, lies we are accustomed to hearing all the time, so it is sometimes hard to recognize them for what they are--self-defeating prophecies. Eleanor Roosevelt once said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your permission." She meant that no one has the power to make us feel or think anything we don't want to. We are truly the masters our own minds, thoughts and feelings, which is both freedom and responsibility. When I tell my children, "You are making me so mad!" I am handing over to them a power and responsibility that is really mine. That is unfair to them, and is teaching them untruth that will affect how they accept responsibility for their own thoughts and attitudes and actions down the road.

So I am pretty good at not saying things like that, not speaking lies. But I know I still sometimes act like I believe the lies. That is where the true battle is, for me--not just maintaining the proper words but actually embodying the beautiful truths.

So actually, that old nursery rhyme perfectly illustrates why this week has been a really good week: unlike the old woman in the shoe, I was not completely at my wit's end with my children's negative behavior and so did not take out my frustration on them and punish them because it made me feel better momentarily (or somehow justified my anger) and banish them to bed because otherwise I would have wanted to strangle them. I have been that lady before--not recently, thank the Lord, but within the past year--and I hope never to be again. Even when the girls acted up at the start of this week, I managed to be pretty calm about it, and could help guide their choices instead of just harshly condemming them. That is a miracle--God at work in me, His love somehow coming through despite all my flaws, and covering us all with grace.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! Like a hot tub soak for the soul, I tell you. And after three week of hellish home life, I needed that!

In case you did not know, there are lots of different versions of "The Old Woman Who Lived in the Shoe:"

But they basically boil down to two: the one where mama loses it and takes it out on the kids, or the one where she keeps her patience and cool and manages to help her children feel loved and safe even in her frustration. In both versions, "she didn't know what to do." And in both versions the kids end up in bed early. The difference is is how the old woman put them there.

I am probably always going to be an old lady in a little shoe with a lot of children! (well, speaking by modern standards) So I'll choose to make my shoe life like this last image--not the one I opened this blog with.

*According to smart-central.com, the 'Old Woman who Lived in a Shoe' referred to the British Empire trying to control its colonies. We think of the shape of Italy as a boot or shoe, but in this rhyme it’s the British Isles. The old woman was Parliament, who couldn't quite look after her many colonial children in the far-flung British Empire.

**Actually, there is nothing wrong with that--I remember that day it was a logical consequence for their choices. And putting them to bed so early allowed me to escape before I really did lose my sanity and do something inappropriate, and when they are in bed early they can talk in bed as long as they want and I don't care, so it is really a win-win solution. Much better to end the day early than end it in escalating sin.

It's What's Not For Dinner

These photos illustrate a very interesting article from The New York Times by Jonathan Safran Foer, called "Against Meat." Personally, I think the photos present an effective argument all by themselves.

Although one could argue the veggies below would not be nearly as appealing if they too were peeled and sectioned.

But I would argue back that in that case they would still be more appetizing.

Still, those oozing, fleshy cuts look great compared with the mental image of ground "beef" I now have after reading another article, also from the NY Times, that was really illuminating about where your hamburger might be coming from: http://www.nytimes.com/2009/10/04/health/04meat.html?_r=2

I strongly urge all my meat-eating readers to check it out!


both pictures by Mitchell Feinberg for The New York Times

ta da!

Boy, I had NO clue what I was doing to myself when I started playing with the look of this blog a few days ago. That first look I tried was really pretty, and I thought, "well, that's that." Until I could not get some of the font colors to work right, and I realized that my photos looked terrible against that vintage blue background. I thought, "well, this can't be the only site that offers free blog backgrounds, I'll just check out another site and pick something from there."

It's not that easy. Once you start really looking, there are just more and more to see and try. I thought I would like something greenish, but wasn't finding anything quite right. Then I found that CUTE bird header and really liked it, but the backgrounds that I found on various sites that matched it had other problems, like being too cutesy, or having too dark or distracting backgrounds for the text, or also looking terrible with the photos.

While doing all that looking, I realized that the people who make these backgrounds change their look whenever the urge hits them. Comparable to, say, picking out an outfit for a date. I, however, have no interest in doing all this work again, and just* wanted a background that I loved that would be my "forever" background. Comparable to, say, choosing your wedding dress. Talking it over with D last night, getting his opinion on a few specifics, I realized I was expecting a lot of this new design:

* whimsical
* not cutesy or pastel
* but nothing too formal or pretentious, or like I take myself too seriously
* D and I prefer light color behind the text to dark
* something other than plain white behind the text
* no weird buttons or designs intruding into the reading space
* had to make my photos look good
* preferrably something vintage, shabby chic or distressed
* would look good with my bird header, since I liked that and had not found anything better
* had to be easy on the eye for reading
* had to be colors/pattern that felt like me**

Ridiculous, I know. I should never have ventured into this area of "self-expression" and just stayed with my simply attractive generic blogger template!

After looking for several hours over the course of several days, I was beginning to despair, and decided this afternoon I would give myself about 30 min to look at a few more sites and then give up and go with the best of what I had found so far. But within 20 min, I found it. It was not like anything else I had been looking at--but when I saw it, I really liked it.

It was the one.

OK, so I guess I should live with it a few days and make sure. But after all that looking, I think I love this look just because I really like it, if that makes any sense.

And these colors work amazingly well with photos! Click on the "pics" link if you want to see for yourself--even the garish "speak no evil" pic and the black and white prairie girls look good! Believe me, that is much harder than you think.

So if anyone is interested, the two most helpful sites were http://hotbliggityblog.com/index.php which is where I found the background I finally used (and it had the most runner ups too), and http://simplyblogitbackgrounds.blogspot.com/ which had a highly useful list of links to high quality free background sites.

Now that it is all over, I am glad I did this playing around. It was fun, once I got past the whole frustration and desperation and despair parts.

I hope you like it (or at least don't hate it) because it will be around for a looooooooooooooong time.



* ha!

** in other words, borderline obsessive compulsive, stubborn and way too picky

you too?

Baby Blues from Thursday, May 14, 2009

Courtesy of Mom.

(click to embiggen)

disconcerting memory lack

Today as I had a moment of downtime, I found myself thinking about childbirth. And I realized I cannot recall E's birth. At all. The reason: I can't remember what the room looked like. I guess being a visual person means my memory depends upon more visual input than I had realized, and so I can right now tell you about the births of each of the girls, because I can remember the rooms and what things looked like while I was in labor. But at the moment I can't picture my surroundings during E's birth and so I cannot remember any of the birth, even how many times I pushed before he was born. It was more than 3, but less than 6, I am pretty sure. But I really have no recollection.

(In fact, when I was 8 mo pregnant with E and I started early labor and we went to the hospital and they put me in a room for observation, I remember being bummed because it was the exact same room in which we had delivered B, and I did not want the memories confused! But that time the labor fizzled out, so we went home and ended up in a different room after all, the next month.)

I do remember the room they moved us to after E's delivery--and unless they have two exactly the same, it was the same oddly-configured room you were in, Rosa, after H.O. was born! Because I can picture that room, I can remember the early attempts at nursing E, and lying with him in my arms, and changing his clothes, etc. And my favorite memory, when Becky brought her twin 6 yr old girls to see us right before we left the hospital, and turns out her husband Dan was with them and they all came in and the girls held baby E and then Dan--who is one of the founding pastors of our church, Vintage Faith--gathered his adorable family around and they all put a hand on little E and Dan prayed a blessing for him. My heart melted. It was the most lovely way to leave the hospital and start life with #4, and a boy to boot.

I guess if there is anything I would want to remember from the birth, it would be that. But I am not ready to let go of the details yet, I want to remember the whole story. . . .

I think I need more quiet time, a mental space to relax and try to get my bearings. And maybe when I remember, because I am pretty sure I will at some point, this time I will write it down.

playing around. . .

so, i have a new quick poll! i was "inspired" this morning by a friends' blog to try something more custom for my blog's "look." still tweaking. for example, anyone know how i tell the header text to center down? or anyone know how to double up images on the header? i am using standard blogger.

still so much to learn about all this, but i like learning, and i am comfortable with using basic HTML when i know what the code will do.

so please tell me, anyone who stops by: do you like the new look, or did you like the old one better?

thanks!

when the dog bites, when the bee stings. . .

I posted the "speak no evil" pic yesterday while trying to see some humor in the day. Hey, some days we take whatever we can get.

But today, when I look at those three faces in the pic, I don't remember how horrible they were with their mouths, or how frustrated I was and desperate to get them out of the negative pattern (my unorthodox solution worked--they still talked behind the tape, but much less, and without fighting or screaming!); I see three unusually fragile creatures who need lots of loving and lots of grace. Hmmmmm, just like me. Instead of making me chuckle, the pic makes me want to give them each a hug. So that is an excellent use of this blog!

Today is going much better, well, at least for the girls. Daddy is getting a taste of the life I have been living all week while he is at work, and he is pretty grumpy about it. ; ) And my throat is killing me, worse than yesterday, and I am really tired. But the sun is shining, and we have each other, right? Yes, we have each other.

To close off this post: a little something I found on the web, dedicated to Rosa:




(Rebecca, I promised you a dedication first, but I have not yet had anything to share that fits--soon, I promise!)

Summing Up the Day: Pt. 2

Summing Up the Day: Pt. 1

I started to write an entry in which I moaned and groused about life the past two weeks, and especially this week and most especially today. But it was such a drag, I deleted it and decided to instead just give you all a few snapshots of life today here in the Little House under the Big Trees.

First, a conversation (true):

M (crying and angry): Mommy, G gave me an axe kick to the head!

G: No. . . a roundhouse kick to the side.

Lest you feel sorry for M, she was reprimanded twice this afternoon for using her martial arts moves to bully her little sister, B.

And I'm all out of chocolate.

We Interrupt This Blog for an Important Service Announcement

I have heard from several readers that they have ocassionally tried to post a comment and they got a message saying they would have to try again later. So I thought I should let you know that the same thing happens to me when I try to leave comments here or in other people's blogs. I hit the "post comment" button, and the Blogger server looks me up and down and says with a distainful sniff, "So sorry, your request could not be processed at this time. Please try again later." Well, I have a very sneaky way to get around the old snooty gatekeeper--in complete disregard for his instructions, I immediately click on the "post comment" button again. Sometimes I have to click a total of three times, but by then the server is rolling his eyes and pushing the button to let me in, and he always posts my comment.

So there!

Just be sure you have selected your identity first, so that is not holding up the process. Because even when harassed, the server will never let in a perfect stranger. But he will let in Anonymous. ; )

When I am ready to post, I also always use my mouse to highlight the text I have just written and then use the "Ctrl" + "C" buttons to save my work just in case something happens and my comments are lost. ("Ctrl" + "V" will copy the text back, in the event of disaster) And if what I am writing is really long and I would be upset if it was lost, I type in a word document and then cut and paste from that.

You, my wonderful readers, come with varying levels of computer savvy, so I thought these suggestions might be helpful.

Please, comment away!

Blessing of the Week: Not having to Stick my Hand in Crap when i Feel like Crap

Ok, so while I was pontificating about my amazing cloth diapers last week, this week I am very genuinely thankful for my "cheapo" disposable diapers.

Weekend before last I came down with a truly strange illness, which started Saturday as general malaise with a touch of
1) stomach ache and
2) backache and
3) headache,
which I attributed at the time to
1) eating peanut butter on my toast for breakfast, which I am mildly allergic too and may have been eating too much of recently;
2) carrying a whole bunch of full plastic tubs from under the house up the deck stairs while having the stomach-ache from the peanut butter, so that I was probably not lifting with my stomach muscles properly and putting extra strain on my back, and
3) not having had a break from children AT ALL for at least two weeks, culminating in that Sat. when D ended up working from home and so not only did I have full charge of the kiddos all that day too, but had to keep them quiet while he was constantly on phone meetings in the living room. Which, as some of you know is also our home office. And our bedroom. And baby E's bedroom. And the family room. You get the idea.

So, anyway, the general sense of not-wellness continued Sunday morning and right at the end of church became a backache and headache so bad I was flat on my back the rest of the day and evening. Seriously! I laid there, having flashbacks to the back labor I had when delivering G, wondering what on earth I had done. But after also suffering from. . . um. . . shall we delicately say unusual bowels, for all that weekend and several days after, I started to wonder if I actually had some kind of food poisoning that had affected my kidneys, since that is where the back pain had been.

Ok, so anyway, I slowly recuperated last week and was pretty much completely myself again by late Weds. The rest of the week was fine. But just three days later, this past Sat., I was feeling that malaise again, and a lethargic restlessness. By evening I took inventory of all the things my body was telling me and realized I was getting sick. That night I had a horrible fever, chills and aches. But the worst of it broke in the wee hours of the morning, and I had just medium fever and aches and chills for Sunday but a terrible headache, so of course I stayed home (with E) from church. Monday I was feeling much better, except the illness mutated and settled in my throat, and so since then I have had the horrible painful sore throat thing going on, with mild runny/stuffy nose and mild headache. Ugh.

Ok, so anyway, enough with the descriptive detail. I was not trying to whine, but just to set the stage, so you all would fully appreciate with me the wonderful blessing of diapers you do NOT have to wash out in the toilet, gather up and carry down to the underbelly every night, wash and hang dry every couple of days. Nope, you feel horrible, and your baby is poopy and you can barely carry him into the bedroom you are so weak and shaky, and as you bend over him you have stabs of pain piercing your left temple and there is no extra hassle, you just wipe him up and put a new disposable on him, and carry the offending mess out to the trash neatly wrapped up in the disposable diaper. Can somebody give me a Hallelujah!

I love my FuzziBunz and SnapEZ cloth diapers, like I said before.

But I reeeeeeeeeally appreciate my cheapo disposables. Esp. when I am sick.

thanks to the poll takers

Well, thank you, each of you who stopped by and left a comment or participated in my sidebar poll, which I will leave up for a couple more days in case anyone wants to come back and see what the results were. It was so enlightening! I was most surprised that half of you who participated not only don't mind my postings/opinions about news bits, philosophy, etc. but even seem to like them. And here I was really worried I had lost some of you with my thoughts about recent news articles--glad to know it is not true! Some blogs have certain focuses and don't stray from them--I was hoping that I was not freaking out too many of my friends who might be more of the warm-fuzzy "God stories and miracles" types. (Or maybe I did and you are just being nice)

And a small majority of you like the stuff of daily life. That, my dear friends, I am so relieved to hear. Because I always have stuff. And daily life. So keep posted for more of that!

And I think I should have worded the option about posting photos differently--yes, I was intending it specifically for Mom, who I assume is the one person who selected that option, but I realized later I would like to know if any of the rest of you like photos, so should have made it more inclusive, like "I like photos!" Well, I'm posting photos anyway for Mom, so it's moot. ; )

But my favorite part of the whole poll was the ONE person who clearly thought to him/herself, "Eh, who cares if it's your blog, I want more _______!" And I would love to know, what did he fill in the blank with? What did she think was most important? If you are the one who did not click on that last bubble, I salute you! You made me laugh. I dare you to reveal your identity in the comments. If you do, I will dedicate my next posting to you and your imperious blog topic demands.

Of course, it could have been Mom.

trying on costumes a little early this year

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what are you in the mood for?

My friends, sisters, Mom! I was recently visiting a blog in which the author asked her readers what they wanted to hear more of. I thought that sounded like a neat idea, so as you see in the sidebar, I have made a little quiz on the topic too.

I started this blog just because I was so enjoying reading my good friend Susan's blog and knowing a little about her life and thoughts from afar. I thought maybe I could do the same and my long-distance friends and sisters might enjoy it similarly. I was thinking esp. of my sisters, who live in Alabama and Virginia, and whom I have only seen every couple of years since we all left home so long ago. We have never known each other's daily lives, and so when we do talk on the phone there is always too much to say. I was looking forward to writing about life and hearing in the comments about the similar life experiences, or opinions, or questions, etc. of my sisters and friends, envisioning this blog as a shared space for chatting--as if I were sitting down for a quick cup of tea with my favorite women.

I don't think my blog has actually served this initial purpose, since I have realized that most people who read blogs are themselves bloggers! My sisters are not bloggers, and have very legitimate reasons for not being online much. That's ok--no one HAS to come by and visit, and I assume anyone who does not has good reason and I don't take it personally. And it is fun just writing and knowing my mom is a faithful reader. : ) And some of my long-distance friends DO come by and read--thanks, friends! But ironically, I think most of my readers are friends from out here on the Bay. To all of you, thank you! I have found that writing helps me battle "baby brain" (and the occassional baby blues) and while I don't say anything brilliant or clever, I hope you sometimes get a chuckle, or encouragement for your day. So I am going to keep on doing it, and hope that every now and then someone lets me know they got something out of it.

So, to those of you reading, what are the things you enjoy hearing about? The same blogger who inspired the quiz also mentioned a few things that make a blog "successful," and two of the things were that you write about what you are passionate about, and you write what people would like to hear about. Seem pretty "well, duh!" suggestions, but they got me thinking. I am not going to start measuring my "success" by how many "followers" I have, or how many comments I get (although those are fun and appreciated). I am going to keep writing until life circumstances tell me to stop, and be glad if my only reader is Mom. But I am very interested in hearing what things you enjoy the most. So please take the quiz, when you have a second. : )

Blessing of the Week: Adorable, Eco-Friendly Baby Bum!

Ok, the last couple of postings have been pretty down, so I thought I needed to get back to something a little more positive. What better to turn around the blues than blessings!

Way back when G was a baby I bought some nifty cloth diapers called FuzziBunz. LOVE them! They are a waterproof outer diaper cover that you can stuff whatever you like into to absorb the liquid--hemp works the best, esp. when used with a softer, quick absorbing layer on top of it. The inner fabric of the diaper cover, against baby's bottom, wicks moisture away from the skin, so baby never gets diaper rash. And poop does not stick to the fabric easily, which is another bonus when you wash them at home as I do. (and if anyone reading this wants to know my AMAZINGLY easy way of cleaning them, please email. ; )

These same diapers and inserts have lasted through three children and are on the fourth! So while they were pricey to start out, they have long ago paid for themselves. They are so adjustable with all the snaps that they fit our babies from under 1 year to potty training! But I never used them for newborns--ours were so tiny, and frankly I allowed myself the luxury of laziness for a few months with each new baby. And I use disposable when we travel, and at night for the last two babies, since they have been really heavy wetters and I am not a green earth martyr--I think one disposable diaper to ensure a full night's sleep for everyone is a fair trade. But we use the cloth all the time here at home, and love them.

When E was born last year I added just a couple more diapers that are the same idea but even cuter, if that is possible, from Snap-EZ:

So cute! And I realized last week, when I bought some more disposable diapers at Costco after not buying them for a while, that even cheapo diapers are expensive, and at this point in their lives, our cloth ones are free. FREE diapers! I can't even count the water use, because we pay a flat rate for the water. I do dry the inserts in the dryer, so that takes energy, but the diaper covers I dry on the line over the fireplace. Using cloth diapers adds more work to my week, that is for sure, since I wash diapers about 2 x week, but we are saving at LEAST $300 a year by using cloth and laundering them ourselves.

Blessing!

And the best part--while the hemp inserts are almost completely falling apart (they've earned it!), everything else should still be good for passing on to ANOTHER child when E is done in a couple of years!

toeing the fetid wallow of human depravity

This morning I saw on facebook a posting my little sister made, about the most horrible piece of "news" I have ever heard. Please stop reading now if you are not inclined to delve for a moment into the cesspool of sinfulness--I am using the most descriptive language I can to convey my seriousness. If you do keep reading, do so knowing I do not want to wallow in the depravity, I will just toe the outskirts, to consider the condition of my own heart.

What caught my eye in my sister's posting was her opinion--that the man who had committed the crime should be "let loose in a room with other parents so we can tar and feather his ass and watch him die a slow and painful death." Yikes! Ok, my sister is not usually this violent, although she is always this eloquent, and not knowing the story, I was momentarily shocked at her vehemence. So of course I then clicked on the news video link to see what the man had done to deserve it.

While geting my headphones plugged in (having a feeling what to come was for adult ears only) I missed the very beginning of the segment, so still did not know his crime when the news interviewers started sharing the "man/woman on the street" perspectives. A seemingly young, lower-income white woman said she thought the man should die for what he did. Then an older black father also gave the opinion that somebody should kill the man. And then the newscasters jumped back to the story itself and I finally figured out why all these different people are so angry. The 18-year-old man has been accused of raping and beating (to the point of cracking open the skull of) his daughter. Who is 8 days old.

And now I understand why everyone is so far having the same violent reaction. This is the very basest depth of sin, and so wrong on so many levels. The man clearly desired to hurt his child, he purposefully unleashed all his aggression on her, something so tiny and helpless and fragile. He did this when there were other people in the house, including the 15-year-old mother of the baby. We all have secret, depraved selves, the depths of sin to which we sometimes fanticize about going, out of anger or lonliness or sorrow or a desire to hurt as much as we have been hurt. This is not that. Because despite our emotional/psychological urge, we still have some hold on logic, on reality, and can imagine the consequence and choose not to go there. We can imagine the interpersonal backlash--what would they think of me? We certainly don't let our depravity out when we might be caught at it, and condemned for it. And because most of us are not truly as base as our worst thoughts, we don't act on them.

This guy acted on them. He indulged in them, not having the rationality to see his actions for what they were, or think he could get away with it. Or he knew what he was doing and did not care. Which scenario is worse? Which answer is least scary for his future in the world, where the rest of us live too? How do we as a society respond, both to the act and the need to ensure the act is not repeated? I found myself at the exact same place as my sister and the persons on the street--I think if he is found guilty then he should be killed, and quickly. I am not saying I completely approve of capital punishment. But I do believe there are, and must be, fitting occassions for it. I cannot see how would it really be a better, just solution to put him in jail for life, where, yes, he might be completely rehabilitated and might even find his way out of his psychosis of sin, praise Jesus--but where he might even more easily sink further into the evil mire of his soul because of his enviroment, the result of the prison sentence given out of "mercy" that only gives him greater loss of selfhood, perspective, and connection with the real.



Oddly enough, this morning I had a song whispering in my mind, out of the blue, and it is a fitting companion to that first story. The song is "John Wayne Gacy, Jr." by the brilliant Sufjan Stevens. The title of the song prepares you for its subject matter, but not its emotional honesty. The song is gentle, so sad, and Sufjan's quiet keening evokes perfectly how I think God must feel when He watches us hurting and being hurt, hating and being hated. Sufjan is not blithely demonizing Gacy, although Gacy's demons are clear in Sufjan's lyrics. Instead, he takes the listener into the very moment of betrayal, of innocence struck down by a perverted pretense of innocence. It is a disturbing song, to say the least, and one I have only just now listened to for the third time ever. To listen to it feels like willingly, willfully entering with John Wayne Gacy. Jr. into his secret depravity, those moment of despair and mockery and torture and stillness.

I usually choose not to go there. But I am glad Sufjan Stevens went there. He has purpose for drawing the listener in not just to the facts, but to the ugly moment. He wants us to imagine Gacy's purposefullness, his forethought, how he followed some twisted script of his own imagining and killed, and killed again. How he chose to act upon his evil urges, how he enjoyed it, how he could not forever hide his true nature or his sins, however whitewashed and painted over and buried over they were. How our own secret, depraved selves are no better or worse than his. How he did not deserve the wages of death any more than you or I do. As Sufjan says in the lines of the song: "In my best behavior I am really just like him. Look beneath the floorboards for the secrets I have hid."

The bottom line of salvation is this: that I am as capable of as much depravity and evil as these men, that I am as unfit and unworthy of the presence of the Lord of the Heavens and Earth. That it took nothing less than God sacrificing himself, killing a living piece of his own infinite being, to make it possible for me to stand in His presence. To be in relationship with Him. To accept his love and to love Him back by loving others in His name. There is no depth to which we can sink where He is not, and from where He cannot rescue us. And that is the other aspect of Sufjan's song--that not only we are with Gacy at that moment, but God is there too. The One who made Gacy, who gave him the freedom to choose love or death, who grieves at the hurt, the hurt--He is there. He sees, He knows. He brings to justice, and He redeems, even if we do not see how. Nothing can separate us from the love of God, or hide us from his wrath.

So where does this leave me? Still thinking that first man deserves death (which he will not get, at least not at the hands of the courts, as the story said his crime is being considered a sexual assault). But is that ok for me to think, to want? Where is my own heart this week? What secret lusts and rages am I indulging in? Ok, honestly, none that seem at all in the same league as these other examples. But is that the way it looks to God? Sin is sin, and there is death in my heart for sure--just more of the musty, mousy kind of ancient grumblings and petty tyrranies.

If you made it all the way to the end here of my wanderings, I thank you. My heart is so sick over these things, and other sad, bad things happening all over the world. Sometimes I keep it all tuned out, and sometimes it forces its way into my mind and then I wonder what God wants me to think about it, how He wants me to use it for some good. So writing all this helped me think and start to process.