I have to say that I have experienced many instances as a mother of 5 children hearing the devastating heart breaking wailing sounds from my children. Some are audible, some are silently loud! I hate those sounds, it goes to the very core of my soul and contorts into this indescribable pain. But you know if you have children around you what those sounds are. It could be the sound of your child falling as they are learning to walk. The sound of your crawling infant when the cat has had enough of tail-pulling games. The sound of your teenager that calls and says "Mom (you can hear his lip quivering and his heart pounding), I wrecked the truck. I'm ok." GULP!
We have graciously offered to babysit (maybe not the right term here) the pastor's snakes. There are only two, non poisonous snakes. A black rat snake and a corn snake. I'm fine with it because they are in their enclosure and really aren't much trouble at all. I lost my insane fear of snakes when Sarah was a toddler and would bring them in from outside, so as long as they are in something that I don't have to catch them, I'm good. She is in love with these creatures! Just beaming with joy every time she talks to them through the glass.
Our pastor is selling his house. Anywho....they were having to tote the enclosure up to the attic so as not to offend potential buyers. So, we offered to take them just for a time until they sell their house. That being said, they are happily housed on top of my sewing machine cabinet. Let me tell you, people don't run over to visit when you have snakes! So my son and my son's girlfriend, who loves snakes, and my oldest son and Sarah were admiring the reptilian wonders when Sarah decided to take the rocks off of the top for a closer inspection. To that, the oldest son chimed in, "you need to wait for dad to do that!" He was not willing to chase the snakes through the house! She waited for dad. Then she got a little to anxious and excited and started to pull it out of the enclosure. She didn't have hold of the snake at the right point, which led the snake to turn it's head and chomp down on her knuckle. Let me say, the sound she made was not one I'd heard in a while and it sent me to that place. It wasn't a sound of a painful wail as much as it was a sound of a broken heart. She was so upset. Upset that the snake wouldn't let her hold it and love on it, etc. Yes, there were teeth marks, followed by soapy hands and peroxide and an ice pack, but nothing worked on that heart, it was swollen with dispair. The only thing that made the pain subside was bigger gator tears. It was a HARD lesson to learn, a painful one, physically and emotionally. We're now on the other side of it and life is good.
But here is the sound that took me to that place and has left me there without a ride home....."Mom, something bad happened today, I'll tell you when I get home." What? You can't just say that and then not tell me what it was. First clue was that my son was on his brother's cell phone. Questionable. "Where is your phone?" "I'll tell you when I get home." "Did it get stolen?" "Yes, Mom. I'll tell you when I get home." Great. Then the next phone call came to inform me that his car won't start and can you bring jumper cables? This was now my younger son, the phone owner, who then proceeds to tell me that John is REALLY mad. Upon inquiry I got the younger son to confess the situation to me as he is locked in the car behind glass where his brother can't hear him. Sort of a cell phone to mom confession booth. It seems as though, John had left his jeans in the locker room with his friends belongings and went off to track practice. Sometime while he was running someone removed his cell phone and his wallet from his pockets. He had inadvertently had the money he had been saving for the summer mission trip with the church in his wallet. They took the money and put the wallet back folded backwards, sort of a signature "gotcha". Now at this point some of you may be saying, "why did he take that to school?" Yes, I know and so does he that this was not the best choice. However, he is the victim here, not the perpetrator and he is not completely at fault. It's almost like saying "she deserved to be raped because of her outfit." Not a great decision to wear it, but that doesn't make it right that it happened. That's a little bit of an extreme example, but ok....moving on. He has been building fences with a friend of ours, digging holes for posts and putting up panels and crawling under houses to cover crawl spaces with plastic. He isn't afraid of work and would rather raise the money himself than ask people to donate to the cause. He's always been that way. It's a trait I really admire. But sometimes the world makes it impossible. I don't know whose child stripped my son of his dignity and joy, but I'm in that place right now where I could spank someone else's child and feel really good about it. I don't care about the phone. I don't even really care about the money, because I know he will raise it somehow. He may have to ask for it. I care that his heart is broken because his fellow students stooped to the level like this. I don't like the sound of a broken heart. It must be similar to the sound that those dog whistles make that only dogs can hear. It is making my ears ring and my eyes well up with tears and my head to bow for forgiveness of my feelings and my heart to tear yet a little more. I have prayed for this individual, but out of my knowing I should, not out of wanting to. Don't worry, I will get there....when the noise subsides. Right now, all else is inaudible.
I know God will make it clear the purpose of each heart break. A learning moment, teaching moment, etc. I know that with pain comes healing and redemption. I know that my children are going to be just fine in spite of the world. I know that Jesus loves them more than I and knows what's best more than I do. I know that all is well eventhough it hurts. "Joy, in all things." Yes, God, in all things.
God Bless. God bless my children. God bless those who don't know you. God bless the heart breakers. God bless. God. Bless.
We have graciously offered to babysit (maybe not the right term here) the pastor's snakes. There are only two, non poisonous snakes. A black rat snake and a corn snake. I'm fine with it because they are in their enclosure and really aren't much trouble at all. I lost my insane fear of snakes when Sarah was a toddler and would bring them in from outside, so as long as they are in something that I don't have to catch them, I'm good. She is in love with these creatures! Just beaming with joy every time she talks to them through the glass.
Our pastor is selling his house. Anywho....they were having to tote the enclosure up to the attic so as not to offend potential buyers. So, we offered to take them just for a time until they sell their house. That being said, they are happily housed on top of my sewing machine cabinet. Let me tell you, people don't run over to visit when you have snakes! So my son and my son's girlfriend, who loves snakes, and my oldest son and Sarah were admiring the reptilian wonders when Sarah decided to take the rocks off of the top for a closer inspection. To that, the oldest son chimed in, "you need to wait for dad to do that!" He was not willing to chase the snakes through the house! She waited for dad. Then she got a little to anxious and excited and started to pull it out of the enclosure. She didn't have hold of the snake at the right point, which led the snake to turn it's head and chomp down on her knuckle. Let me say, the sound she made was not one I'd heard in a while and it sent me to that place. It wasn't a sound of a painful wail as much as it was a sound of a broken heart. She was so upset. Upset that the snake wouldn't let her hold it and love on it, etc. Yes, there were teeth marks, followed by soapy hands and peroxide and an ice pack, but nothing worked on that heart, it was swollen with dispair. The only thing that made the pain subside was bigger gator tears. It was a HARD lesson to learn, a painful one, physically and emotionally. We're now on the other side of it and life is good.
But here is the sound that took me to that place and has left me there without a ride home....."Mom, something bad happened today, I'll tell you when I get home." What? You can't just say that and then not tell me what it was. First clue was that my son was on his brother's cell phone. Questionable. "Where is your phone?" "I'll tell you when I get home." "Did it get stolen?" "Yes, Mom. I'll tell you when I get home." Great. Then the next phone call came to inform me that his car won't start and can you bring jumper cables? This was now my younger son, the phone owner, who then proceeds to tell me that John is REALLY mad. Upon inquiry I got the younger son to confess the situation to me as he is locked in the car behind glass where his brother can't hear him. Sort of a cell phone to mom confession booth. It seems as though, John had left his jeans in the locker room with his friends belongings and went off to track practice. Sometime while he was running someone removed his cell phone and his wallet from his pockets. He had inadvertently had the money he had been saving for the summer mission trip with the church in his wallet. They took the money and put the wallet back folded backwards, sort of a signature "gotcha". Now at this point some of you may be saying, "why did he take that to school?" Yes, I know and so does he that this was not the best choice. However, he is the victim here, not the perpetrator and he is not completely at fault. It's almost like saying "she deserved to be raped because of her outfit." Not a great decision to wear it, but that doesn't make it right that it happened. That's a little bit of an extreme example, but ok....moving on. He has been building fences with a friend of ours, digging holes for posts and putting up panels and crawling under houses to cover crawl spaces with plastic. He isn't afraid of work and would rather raise the money himself than ask people to donate to the cause. He's always been that way. It's a trait I really admire. But sometimes the world makes it impossible. I don't know whose child stripped my son of his dignity and joy, but I'm in that place right now where I could spank someone else's child and feel really good about it. I don't care about the phone. I don't even really care about the money, because I know he will raise it somehow. He may have to ask for it. I care that his heart is broken because his fellow students stooped to the level like this. I don't like the sound of a broken heart. It must be similar to the sound that those dog whistles make that only dogs can hear. It is making my ears ring and my eyes well up with tears and my head to bow for forgiveness of my feelings and my heart to tear yet a little more. I have prayed for this individual, but out of my knowing I should, not out of wanting to. Don't worry, I will get there....when the noise subsides. Right now, all else is inaudible.
I know God will make it clear the purpose of each heart break. A learning moment, teaching moment, etc. I know that with pain comes healing and redemption. I know that my children are going to be just fine in spite of the world. I know that Jesus loves them more than I and knows what's best more than I do. I know that all is well eventhough it hurts. "Joy, in all things." Yes, God, in all things.
God Bless. God bless my children. God bless those who don't know you. God bless the heart breakers. God bless. God. Bless.
1 comment:
Yeah, it's not the theft so much but it's the fact that something/someone hurt your child - part of that protective mama bear instinct. I'm glad no one is seriously hurt.
That's great your son is working so hard for such a good thing. That has to be frustrating to have to start over, but maybe this is just a set up so God can work a miracle! Praying for him!
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