The tents where they live. And the recklessness of others that causes fear.
I consider the reality of threats women in other places face.
My heart hurts and I tell my groom I'm shaken. Naive about the needs of others.
I want to do Some. Thing.
At least, I think we should do something.
I don't know what that something is.
Truthfully, I'm not sure I really want to do anything. Especially if I knew the sacrifice it would require.
Orphans tug at my heart. And mostly the women who give them up for adoption.
Maybe it's my own shame I'm trying to atone for. I say that I'm not, but I wonder if I really am.
I get mad at my groom that our world is so small. So simple.
And yet, what we're doing here with our son is more than we ever had.
Perhaps we're parenting with perfection.
Perhaps we're obsessed with our fears.
Or, maybe we're really parenting with abandon. Not the boy, but ourselves.
Maybe we want more.
Maybe we have a vision of what our type of parenting might do.
To him and the world.
I don't want to seem so pride-filled, though I know that I am.
I see what others are doing. And I feel compelled to do more.
But my worship is right here. He's showing me this.
He isn't keeping me here behind these windows exclusively, though.
He's reaching me beyond, stretching my influence.
Still, I wrestle with not feeling enough.
And still, He shows me I am.
...seeing grace chosen over anger...
...The Boy snuggling up in his daddy's arms...
...leaves falling like snow...
...an evening without rushing...
...starting the week off before an alarm...
...talking football with my groom...
...returning to church and seeing how God led us there...