As Pat shared, we recently celebrated our dedication of Israel. Dedication anniversaries are an opportunity to light a candle and have your kids ask, "Why do you do that?" We talk about how we want to use that day in his life to share with him who we see him to be. Part of that is talking about the meaning his name has to us. Pat and I had Israel's name chosen before we ever met each other. For several reasons, I feel God gave us the name. I remember the moment when I knew that I would name my first-born Israel. A pastor was talking to me about how God honors struggle, as is evidenced by the name he gave to His children. It was the summer after my freshman year of college, when I was trying to be an atheist. When God has called us His children, not even our worst behaviour can change it. I envision sharing this with Israel over and over again.
In thinking about eventually sharing this tradition with Eden, though, we weren't sure we would be able to share anything really meaningful with her about her name. And what a let-down that would be year after year, to hear this great story about your brother's name and then, when it is your turn, your parents say, "Umm...your name means delight." I don't want my son to have a meaningful name and my daughter to have one that is merely pretty. I feel like girls get the shaft like that a lot. I want my daughter's name to have some sort of intensity and depth, too.
Before much discussion with Pat, I was dead-set on naming her Lydia. I like the character Lydia in the New Testament. She seems spunky to me -- she doesn't mess around. I like that about a person. But Pat wasn't too keen on the name, and when he once said he thought he might be alright with it, it gave me second thoughts. So we held the two names in limbo for awhile (along with a third name we knew we probably wouldn't use, but liked). Then Pat's mom addressed all the Christmas presents for the little girl we then called "Peanut" to "Eden" and I started leaning toward the name, even though I have a fear of becoming one of those crazy families whose kids all have Bible names. (I feel like those families always have a lot of kids, and I don't want a lot of kids; it would make me crazy!) Once you give your second kid a Bible name, it puts you into that category and even if you have another kid, you can't name him Billy to get out of it...it just wouldn't be right.
But we like the name. We like that it's earthy-sounding, alludes to something beautiful, is easy to pronounce, unique but not strange, and means "delight." Also, it's both the name of a person in the Bible (albeit some obscure man...) as well as a geographical location, just like Israel's name is. So we talked about it a little and decided to name her Eden. Usually our talks about "the name" came at the end of a long day, though, and not much was discussed about why we were choosing Eden over something else. The conversation went, basically, like this:
"I think I'm okay with Eden. What do you think?"
"I'm fine with it; I like it."
"So...Eden it is?"
"Sure."
"'Sure,' like, that's her name and we can tell people that's her name?"
"Uh...I guess so. Yeah, I think that's fine."
Nothing earth-shattering. Kind of anti-climactic, even. And very much a decision we made. I didn't like that about it; I wanted both my kids' names to be given to me by God. I know God uses our minds and works through our decisions...it's just that He's a lot harder to discern that way. (This is why I hardly ever say God speaks to me, I've discovered. Even if I think something is completely right and exactly what God wants, if I feel like I have enough reason to back up my choice without bringing in divine intervention, I am not comfortable saying, "God told me so." This is for better or for worse. It makes me a failed mystic.)
All the same, though, the name really grew on me. I remember Sue, Pat's sister, asking why we had picked that name shortly after we did. I gave her the reasons I outlined above, and added, "Besides, it has a lot of potential for good and for evil." Now, what was THAT supposed to mean? And since when is that obviously a good thing about a name? But that is how I answered her, and my words just kind of fell to her hardwood floor, where the four kids running through our conversation trampled on them before I could think about what I had meant to convey. I was left with the feeling that I had given her a really awkward, confused answer. And my answer was not any clearer to me until Saturday, on a long drive with Pat.
The potential for good and for evil is something I like about Israel's name. It worries me, too, though. I mean, what if he just struggles his whole life in his relationship with God? What will that do to him and to us? "Wrestles with God" could go either way. But God chose Israel to be His so that others could know the perfect God through His interaction with His imperfect child. In a similar way, Eden is something God chose to set apart as a perfect gift for his new creation...to be a delight to them. But He put into Eden these two trees, leaving the potential for greatness and for a very difficult path through life. In both cases, God's choice was that people would take the more simple way of having a great relationship with Him. But in both cases, people chose to make things difficult and yet He is still working the consequences of those decisions into a perfect plan for all humanity. In both cases, God's choice in initiating a relationship with His creation is purely good, but it leaves itself vulnerable; it is dangerous.
I realize I think that there are a lot of things that are truly good, yet part of what makes them so good is that they are dangerous. Good and dangerous often go hand-in-hand. Fire is like that. Sex is like that. Adventure is like that. Relationships of all kinds are like that. If you are to have a good relationship with God, with a friend, with a spouse, with your child, you are going to be close enough for that person to really be able to do you significant harm if ever they are so inclined. And I want my children to be truly good. Being able to be truly good so often seems to mean having potential to be truly terrible. Yet it is a risk that God considered worth taking and it is one I consider worth taking, too.
The intertwining of goodness and danger is a work of beauty in my mind. I'm sure someone out there has a full theory written out about danger in aesthetics and that person is not me. For now, it's another of those vague senses I have about things. The meaning of Eden's name, however, is no longer a vague sense to me. It is a recognition that she is a good gift from God. (This, though I have never hesitated to recognize that her existence was God's decision.) God's good gifts are full of potential for both joy and pain. We do not expect mediocrity from our children; we believe they have great potential and this cuts both ways. So we embark yet again on this dangerous adventure of being intimately connected to another unfolding life. We go into this with both a confidence and a whispered prayer that this life will be beautiful in the full sense of the word and a delight to all who know her.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Last ultrasound
We have returned from what will likely be our last ultrasound of Eden. She was in perfect picture-taking position while the tech did all the measurements. The tech said everything was measuring at just about 35 weeks, which is great, since I am 36 weeks along today. One week small is no big deal. I measured 3 weeks small in our appointment with Mabrey on Tuesday, which is border-line, but the tech said today that the fluid and placenta look good. Eden weighs about 5 lbs. 11 oz right now. Her brother was only 6lbs. 3oz. so it sounds right to me that she's just about done in there.
When the tech switched to the 4-D imaging wand, Eden did an about-face and was no longer in any sort of position to have a very good picture taken. She had smooshed her face against my belly, making her nose look like a big hole in the middle of her face. We were able to get a little profile shot and a picture of a fist and a foot...all of which are down by her face. It was pretty cool to sit and talk with the tech about where everything is again. She is in a kind of pike-positioned splits in there: head down, butt up, one leg sticking straight down by her face, and the other leg sticking straight out up by my ribcage on the right. This explains the crazy sideways expansion that happens from time to time when she really kicks her leg out: sharp buldge on the right, BIG bulge on the left from the foot and butt, respectively. I first felt Eden move at 14 weeks and am starting to feel as if I've known her a very long time at this point. Except for when it's time for pictures, she makes herself well-known in there.
In just a few short weeks (about 4...) we'll get to have all kinds of exciting pictures of this new little face in the world! We still can't believe it, but there she is and here she comes!
When the tech switched to the 4-D imaging wand, Eden did an about-face and was no longer in any sort of position to have a very good picture taken. She had smooshed her face against my belly, making her nose look like a big hole in the middle of her face. We were able to get a little profile shot and a picture of a fist and a foot...all of which are down by her face. It was pretty cool to sit and talk with the tech about where everything is again. She is in a kind of pike-positioned splits in there: head down, butt up, one leg sticking straight down by her face, and the other leg sticking straight out up by my ribcage on the right. This explains the crazy sideways expansion that happens from time to time when she really kicks her leg out: sharp buldge on the right, BIG bulge on the left from the foot and butt, respectively. I first felt Eden move at 14 weeks and am starting to feel as if I've known her a very long time at this point. Except for when it's time for pictures, she makes herself well-known in there.
In just a few short weeks (about 4...) we'll get to have all kinds of exciting pictures of this new little face in the world! We still can't believe it, but there she is and here she comes!
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Dedication
This evening Lezlie and I lit the dedication candle to remember dedicating Israel to God last February 10th. These were my thoughts that day last year.
Dedication
2-10-2008
Some time ago, when I was young in Christ, I read through the life and adventures of David. Of course many of the stories struck me, but one of them comes to memory today, one I'd not heard before, and I haven't heard of since. I don't remember exactly where this story was, and in my cursory look back I wasn't able to find it, but I'll just tell it to you how I remember it.
David and his men were in the midst of battle. They were surrounded by a greater force, and it seems to my memory that they were backed into a cave, or surrounded in some city or something. After hours (or maybe even days) of fighting David called out saying “Oh! What I would do to have just a drink from [a certain] well!” Two of his loyal men heard him and decided that they would get their leader the drink the he so desired. So these two men risked their lives and fought through the enemy ranks. Escaping out into the open they ran as fast as they could to the well David had mentioned, drew a bowl full of water, and ran it back to the place of battle. Then after fighting their way back into the thick of the battle they found their beloved leader and presented him with his request.
David was flabbergasted. He was so overwhelmed with the honor and the extent to which these men had gone that he could not receive the gift. The greatness of the gift was too much for him to keep for himself. So instead of draining this bowl David poured it out as a drink offering to God.
After reading this story as a young man I was shook. What a crazy response! Here these guys risked their lives to get him this drink, and he goes and pours it out on the ground. On the other hand I understand it. How could he drink it? This gift was too much of an honor for any man to accept for himself. In that respect it was perfectly fitting for him to give this offering to God, and not keep it to himself.
So Lezlie and I have been planning this baby dedication for our child, Israel for a few weeks now. When Z first came to me with the idea I agreed to it, but not because I was into it, only because I felt like I should, and because this is one of the things that we do in this certain churchy culture that we're in. I felt like this is just what we do so that we don't have to say that we've baptized our children, so that we can feel superior to other parts of the Church.
So I thought about it some. “Why are we doing this?” I thought.
Then the other day as I was working I realized what this dedication is. It is my pouring out the bowl of water that is just too great of an offering for me to accept. It is my wife and my choice to give this wonderful gift back the the giver, knowing that we cannot raise him correctly, but also that our Creator can raise him correctly. To that end this dedication is also an invitation, permission, for God to work through his body: the Church, to hold us to this pouring out of our gift to God.
We do this because this gift is so great. We do this because we can't do it ourselves. We do this in thanks and humility recognizing our own limits, and God's limitlessness. We do this dedication as an act of community within the body of Christ.
Amen and amen.
It's good for me to remember why we did that. May it be so.
Dedication
2-10-2008
Some time ago, when I was young in Christ, I read through the life and adventures of David. Of course many of the stories struck me, but one of them comes to memory today, one I'd not heard before, and I haven't heard of since. I don't remember exactly where this story was, and in my cursory look back I wasn't able to find it, but I'll just tell it to you how I remember it.
David and his men were in the midst of battle. They were surrounded by a greater force, and it seems to my memory that they were backed into a cave, or surrounded in some city or something. After hours (or maybe even days) of fighting David called out saying “Oh! What I would do to have just a drink from [a certain] well!” Two of his loyal men heard him and decided that they would get their leader the drink the he so desired. So these two men risked their lives and fought through the enemy ranks. Escaping out into the open they ran as fast as they could to the well David had mentioned, drew a bowl full of water, and ran it back to the place of battle. Then after fighting their way back into the thick of the battle they found their beloved leader and presented him with his request.
David was flabbergasted. He was so overwhelmed with the honor and the extent to which these men had gone that he could not receive the gift. The greatness of the gift was too much for him to keep for himself. So instead of draining this bowl David poured it out as a drink offering to God.
After reading this story as a young man I was shook. What a crazy response! Here these guys risked their lives to get him this drink, and he goes and pours it out on the ground. On the other hand I understand it. How could he drink it? This gift was too much of an honor for any man to accept for himself. In that respect it was perfectly fitting for him to give this offering to God, and not keep it to himself.
So Lezlie and I have been planning this baby dedication for our child, Israel for a few weeks now. When Z first came to me with the idea I agreed to it, but not because I was into it, only because I felt like I should, and because this is one of the things that we do in this certain churchy culture that we're in. I felt like this is just what we do so that we don't have to say that we've baptized our children, so that we can feel superior to other parts of the Church.
So I thought about it some. “Why are we doing this?” I thought.
Then the other day as I was working I realized what this dedication is. It is my pouring out the bowl of water that is just too great of an offering for me to accept. It is my wife and my choice to give this wonderful gift back the the giver, knowing that we cannot raise him correctly, but also that our Creator can raise him correctly. To that end this dedication is also an invitation, permission, for God to work through his body: the Church, to hold us to this pouring out of our gift to God.
We do this because this gift is so great. We do this because we can't do it ourselves. We do this in thanks and humility recognizing our own limits, and God's limitlessness. We do this dedication as an act of community within the body of Christ.
Amen and amen.
It's good for me to remember why we did that. May it be so.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
feeling rich
Sometimes it doesn't take a lot to make me happy. Sometimes I get a lot anyway. Then I'm REALLY happy. We've been significantly blessed lately with...stuff. Good stuff. And I'm feeling particularly grateful for it, so here are some of the things that I have been oh-so-happy to receive recently.
- Buying a crockpot. Not just any crockpot. A big, bronze one with a lid that locks on for transport and a spoon that locks into the lid handle and a carrying case. We use it every Sunday for the carry-in at church. It means not having to make breakfast and lunch on Sunday mornings while getting ready and packing up chilren's Sunday school supplies and Israel's stuff. We wake up to the smell of whatever that has been cooking all night. Lovely.
- Israel's bedding. We got it on sale for 1/3 of its original price. When my parents were here this weekend, we put the twin bed (that was given to us years ago) in the kids' room and covered it in the new green sheets and down comforter and new feather pillows that we bought with gift money. It's the most posh bed I've ever seen for a toddler -- and all machine washable!
- The return of our home phone. This is actually an expense-saver, but it feels nice to have a phone in my dining room again.
- Meat in our freezer. We were given a gift certificate to a local farmer's store for Christmas and used the whole of it to buy good meat. We hardly ever have meat, because the kind we feel good about buying is so expensive it's easier not to bother. Right after we bought this meat (which wasn't a lot, pound-wise, but should make a few good meals), we were given as much or more again in venison that our friend's family member hunted. Meat-eating makes me smile.
- Two dressers in the kids' room that are organized and full. And I have bought hardly any of it. And I didn't have to organize it by myself.
- A tax return that is more than we actually paid in taxes. (We double-checked and it's legit!) I can't even tell you the plans we have and being able to dream about things makes me feel rich, too. I don't like to dream about things that I don't think are in my reach, so this tax return is actually acting as a sort of dream-machine for the time being. We'll have a garden and another bathroom and a wall on that part of the house and time off work when Eden is born and....
- A new (to us) car! My parents brought it up from Kentucky this weekend. It was my mom's car. We took it on a short drive around town last night and I recalled a certain feeling of euphoria that I had driving Myrtle (my old car) for the first time after we put a CD player in her. We were giddy about so many small things that I'll list them separately.
- Push-button unlocking and trunk "popping." No more holding Israel on my hip, using the key to unlock the front door, opening the door, reaching in back, pulling up the lock, shutting the front door, and opening the back door to put him in. Life suddenly seems so SIMPLE! I was sad that Pat unlocked the car this morning before I had a chance. I like pushing the button.
- A functioning CD player and radio. Myrtle had hers stolen quite some time ago and it was...quiet.
- Speakers that all WORK! My hearing has apparently adjusted to the lack of a sound system in our cars. I kept turning the music down when we were on our drive last night. Pat turned on the Beastie Boys and the bass seemed loud. I went to turn it down, only to find that it was already set to zero.
- A moon roof. Israel kept flashing his hands and saying, "light!" as we drove under the street lights last night. Cool.
- A back seat that is actually big enough to really fit two car seats.
- A car that does not have any significant body damage. We had one of these until a couple of weeks ago, when Forest got hit by a red car while sitting in front of our house. (The car left part of itself behind and on Forest's behind.) Ah...a nice-looking car!
We felt so rich last night, sitting on the bed in Israel's room on the new stuff, looking at the newly-arranged room after my parents left that we felt giddy. And we had to celebrate. And we wanted to go on a drive. So we found a friend who was free at the last minute to go out to dinner (which also makes us feel rich). And celebrating makes you feel rich, too.
Pat says we are rich, and I know what he means. Of course we are...just by virtue of being in America at this time. Plus, I have so much more than many people I know. We live in this huge (though unfinished) house, which I appreciated anew as my parents and I were remembering the size of the house my dad grew up in. I have the fondest memories of my Grandma and Papaw's house in Lynch, Kentucky, but realized as I was describing it to Pat that the whole house (with four kids) could've fit in our front four rooms!
We have all kinds of riches, both tangible and not, that we could not have earned. So yes, we are rich. Sometimes, though, it's nice to feel that way, too. Add to my list of dreams making someone else feel rich. That also will make you feel rich.
- Buying a crockpot. Not just any crockpot. A big, bronze one with a lid that locks on for transport and a spoon that locks into the lid handle and a carrying case. We use it every Sunday for the carry-in at church. It means not having to make breakfast and lunch on Sunday mornings while getting ready and packing up chilren's Sunday school supplies and Israel's stuff. We wake up to the smell of whatever that has been cooking all night. Lovely.
- Israel's bedding. We got it on sale for 1/3 of its original price. When my parents were here this weekend, we put the twin bed (that was given to us years ago) in the kids' room and covered it in the new green sheets and down comforter and new feather pillows that we bought with gift money. It's the most posh bed I've ever seen for a toddler -- and all machine washable!
- The return of our home phone. This is actually an expense-saver, but it feels nice to have a phone in my dining room again.
- Meat in our freezer. We were given a gift certificate to a local farmer's store for Christmas and used the whole of it to buy good meat. We hardly ever have meat, because the kind we feel good about buying is so expensive it's easier not to bother. Right after we bought this meat (which wasn't a lot, pound-wise, but should make a few good meals), we were given as much or more again in venison that our friend's family member hunted. Meat-eating makes me smile.
- Two dressers in the kids' room that are organized and full. And I have bought hardly any of it. And I didn't have to organize it by myself.
- A tax return that is more than we actually paid in taxes. (We double-checked and it's legit!) I can't even tell you the plans we have and being able to dream about things makes me feel rich, too. I don't like to dream about things that I don't think are in my reach, so this tax return is actually acting as a sort of dream-machine for the time being. We'll have a garden and another bathroom and a wall on that part of the house and time off work when Eden is born and....
- A new (to us) car! My parents brought it up from Kentucky this weekend. It was my mom's car. We took it on a short drive around town last night and I recalled a certain feeling of euphoria that I had driving Myrtle (my old car) for the first time after we put a CD player in her. We were giddy about so many small things that I'll list them separately.
- Push-button unlocking and trunk "popping." No more holding Israel on my hip, using the key to unlock the front door, opening the door, reaching in back, pulling up the lock, shutting the front door, and opening the back door to put him in. Life suddenly seems so SIMPLE! I was sad that Pat unlocked the car this morning before I had a chance. I like pushing the button.
- A functioning CD player and radio. Myrtle had hers stolen quite some time ago and it was...quiet.
- Speakers that all WORK! My hearing has apparently adjusted to the lack of a sound system in our cars. I kept turning the music down when we were on our drive last night. Pat turned on the Beastie Boys and the bass seemed loud. I went to turn it down, only to find that it was already set to zero.
- A moon roof. Israel kept flashing his hands and saying, "light!" as we drove under the street lights last night. Cool.
- A back seat that is actually big enough to really fit two car seats.
- A car that does not have any significant body damage. We had one of these until a couple of weeks ago, when Forest got hit by a red car while sitting in front of our house. (The car left part of itself behind and on Forest's behind.) Ah...a nice-looking car!
We felt so rich last night, sitting on the bed in Israel's room on the new stuff, looking at the newly-arranged room after my parents left that we felt giddy. And we had to celebrate. And we wanted to go on a drive. So we found a friend who was free at the last minute to go out to dinner (which also makes us feel rich). And celebrating makes you feel rich, too.
Pat says we are rich, and I know what he means. Of course we are...just by virtue of being in America at this time. Plus, I have so much more than many people I know. We live in this huge (though unfinished) house, which I appreciated anew as my parents and I were remembering the size of the house my dad grew up in. I have the fondest memories of my Grandma and Papaw's house in Lynch, Kentucky, but realized as I was describing it to Pat that the whole house (with four kids) could've fit in our front four rooms!
We have all kinds of riches, both tangible and not, that we could not have earned. So yes, we are rich. Sometimes, though, it's nice to feel that way, too. Add to my list of dreams making someone else feel rich. That also will make you feel rich.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Eden update
We had a visit with our midwife yesterday. She said she's been pouring over the graphs and stats and all and consulting with doctors and others and no one feels overly concerned about Eden having intrauterine growth restriction. Her abdomen was a little more proportional this last ultrasound, falling JUST inside the "normal" range. She gave us the option of coming in for non-stress tests twice a week, just to be sure, and in case it would help alleviate stress about it. Perhaps it's ridiculous reasoning, but I would be much more stressed about finding child care for Israel twice a week during office hours than I think it would be worth, so we'll avoid the stress of the non-stress tests. Mabrey (the midwife) said that the worst case scenario, plan-wise, with intrauterine growth restriction is close monitoring and potentially having to get the baby out if it seems better for her to be out than in, but then added again that she is not really concerned, so we'll proceed as though everything is normal. She added (very kindly) that it just seems genetic to her, since Israel has no fat on him and...I "don't have an ounce of fat" on me, either. (This, though I've gained a significant amount of weight not accounted for by just baby-growing stuffs. She's way too kind.)
My "belly" measured exactly on-target for the first time this pregnancy yesterday, and I have gained three pounds since my last visit two weeks ago. (Yikes!) We have one more two-week visit and then it'll be a visit to the midwife every week until Eden is born! And things just keep getting more fun....
My "belly" measured exactly on-target for the first time this pregnancy yesterday, and I have gained three pounds since my last visit two weeks ago. (Yikes!) We have one more two-week visit and then it'll be a visit to the midwife every week until Eden is born! And things just keep getting more fun....
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Little Eden
We just returned from our latest ultrasound. I feel more and more relieved with each one and the tech talks more and more about the measurements each time. I read the screen as she took measurements this time and Eden is still measuring 2-3 weeks small around her abdomen, but her head size is right on track and her femur still measures long. We saw the same things as usual: the heart beating, the organs in their places, and the blurry, alien-looking eyes seeming to look back at us. I don't get tired of seeing these things. We also saw hair -- plenty of it -- and tried for a good picture of her, with little success. She is snuggling up in there and buried her face in the placenta when we were looking to take pictures. (Sorry if that was too much information. We just thought it was funny that she snuggled up with the closest thing to a pillow available to her.) Here is the picture of our bashful little girl. This is (kind of) her profile. She's looking down and to the left.
The tech said she is head down in there, which is the same as last time. Usually this means they have found their way and will stay that way, she said. (Sweet!) Eden does a WHOLE lot of shifting around in there, though. The tech confirmed that her feet are exactly where I thought they were all night last night: under the left edge of my ribcage, where she scoots them back and forth for hours while I lie awake. (Blast your foot-flipping ways, you McCrorys! She shares this trait with her dad, her aunt, and her grandpa, at least....) And the thump, THUMP! that moves my whole stomach first right and then immediately left is most likely an elbows-then-feet jerk. While often uncomfortable, it's pretty cool to be able to know what body part I'm feeling from in there. We'll probably have another ultrasound before she is born, the tech said, so we'll try for a better picture then. It's so cool to be able to peek in on her from time to time.
The tech said she is head down in there, which is the same as last time. Usually this means they have found their way and will stay that way, she said. (Sweet!) Eden does a WHOLE lot of shifting around in there, though. The tech confirmed that her feet are exactly where I thought they were all night last night: under the left edge of my ribcage, where she scoots them back and forth for hours while I lie awake. (Blast your foot-flipping ways, you McCrorys! She shares this trait with her dad, her aunt, and her grandpa, at least....) And the thump, THUMP! that moves my whole stomach first right and then immediately left is most likely an elbows-then-feet jerk. While often uncomfortable, it's pretty cool to be able to know what body part I'm feeling from in there. We'll probably have another ultrasound before she is born, the tech said, so we'll try for a better picture then. It's so cool to be able to peek in on her from time to time.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
a call to affirmative action
Today was an historic occasion. I sat in a friend's living room with Israel on my lap as we watched Barack Obama take his place as our President. I could not have been more pleased with his speech and was proud to be an American for the first time in quite awhile. We will see what he does once he is in office, but the ideals to which he aspires in his words are nothing but encouraging to hear.
Of course, much of the news has been about him being our first African-American President. (I still think this is strange; he is really our first bi-racial President, but whatever, I guess.) And seeing him take the stand has done a lot of good for a lot of people. It has brought lots of grand ideas about how far we have come in our racial relations as a country. And we have come far. I remember readings and videos from my civil rights history class in college and am astounded that people in my parents' generation could recollect some of those events. It is a long way for us to come from segregation to today. That pushes us toward a feeling, especially today, that anyone can do anything in our country.
However, this evening, still riding on my euphoria from the day's events, I was presented with a sobering reminder that the lives of my neighbors are not suddenly better for all of today's achievement. I am exceedingly happy for the new face of success and all it can inspire people of all races to achieve. But I see that the youth in my town still face the same difficulties in their families and in society today that they did yesterday. I see in some of them the potential for truly great things. But I also see many obstacles in their way and a lack of various sorts of resources that a "black" president cannot fill.
It is especially sobering when we recall how many people gave their lives, either by their living or their dying, to make today possible. (And it is truly a great day, regardless of your political leanings.) It took all those lives for one man to rise up as president. It makes me wonder whose lives it will require for the kids here to rise up. What will my role have been?
I am afraid that electing a "black" president will enable us to mentally put a check in the "promoted equality" box of our lives. But that is merely the beginning of our work. I am not talking about affirmative action here in the political sense. I do think, however, that we ought to be about affirmative action in the sense of affirming the worth of all of us and working to ensure that all of us have what is needed to be our best selves. These are lofty words, to be sure, so let's start small by finding one way to give a resource (emotional, spiritual, educational, financial, or otherwise) we have to someone who has not been provided with that resource. Where can I start? Where can you start? I hope we have not, as a county, come this far merely for the sake of one man. I hope we have come this far and will go further for the sake of us all.
Of course, much of the news has been about him being our first African-American President. (I still think this is strange; he is really our first bi-racial President, but whatever, I guess.) And seeing him take the stand has done a lot of good for a lot of people. It has brought lots of grand ideas about how far we have come in our racial relations as a country. And we have come far. I remember readings and videos from my civil rights history class in college and am astounded that people in my parents' generation could recollect some of those events. It is a long way for us to come from segregation to today. That pushes us toward a feeling, especially today, that anyone can do anything in our country.
However, this evening, still riding on my euphoria from the day's events, I was presented with a sobering reminder that the lives of my neighbors are not suddenly better for all of today's achievement. I am exceedingly happy for the new face of success and all it can inspire people of all races to achieve. But I see that the youth in my town still face the same difficulties in their families and in society today that they did yesterday. I see in some of them the potential for truly great things. But I also see many obstacles in their way and a lack of various sorts of resources that a "black" president cannot fill.
It is especially sobering when we recall how many people gave their lives, either by their living or their dying, to make today possible. (And it is truly a great day, regardless of your political leanings.) It took all those lives for one man to rise up as president. It makes me wonder whose lives it will require for the kids here to rise up. What will my role have been?
I am afraid that electing a "black" president will enable us to mentally put a check in the "promoted equality" box of our lives. But that is merely the beginning of our work. I am not talking about affirmative action here in the political sense. I do think, however, that we ought to be about affirmative action in the sense of affirming the worth of all of us and working to ensure that all of us have what is needed to be our best selves. These are lofty words, to be sure, so let's start small by finding one way to give a resource (emotional, spiritual, educational, financial, or otherwise) we have to someone who has not been provided with that resource. Where can I start? Where can you start? I hope we have not, as a county, come this far merely for the sake of one man. I hope we have come this far and will go further for the sake of us all.
Monday, January 19, 2009
these are a few of our favorite things
It's been a little while since I posted some pictures on here. It may be a while longer, since Israel is hard to catch in anything but a blur these days. (He is very fast!) These are a few of our favorite things he does these days.
Israel officially has a favorite towel: the lion towel. You can see why. He looks forward to seeing his little naked self with a lion on his head when he gets out of the bath now and it's great that getting out of the bath is something to look forward to in his book! He LOVES making animal noises...from cows to cats to frogs and elephants.
This is his Granna and Papaw's favorite thing Israel does: he has picked up on calling his dad "Pat." But it's not just that he calls him Pat, it's the WAY he calls him that everyone likes. I guess he knows what I say to get Pat's attention, but I don't think I'm quite as demanding as he makes it sound. Time to REALLY watch what is said around Israel! He picks up everything and adds his own twist to it! (For those of you unfamiliar with the ritual in this video, Israel talks to his Granna and Papaw by webcam most Sunday evenings and this is one of those sessions.)
This is my favorite thing Israel has picked up: He says, "Mmmm!" about a food he likes. We didn't really spend time teaching him the appropriate response, but he certainly knows when it's the right one! You'll catch him saying it about food I put in the grocery cart at the store, food on the stove, and food in his mouth. He adds this opinion all on his own...usually I'll ask him to repeat the name of the food and if he's feeling fond of it right then, he adds the commentary all on his own.
This is my favorite thing Israel has picked up: He says, "Mmmm!" about a food he likes. We didn't really spend time teaching him the appropriate response, but he certainly knows when it's the right one! You'll catch him saying it about food I put in the grocery cart at the store, food on the stove, and food in his mouth. He adds this opinion all on his own...usually I'll ask him to repeat the name of the food and if he's feeling fond of it right then, he adds the commentary all on his own.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
I'm starting with the [wo]man in the mirror.
This past weekend, we took a last-minute trip to Cincinnati for a conference. It was a mini conference of the CCDA (Christian Community Development Association). For those of you unfamiliar with this organization, you should check out their website here. (Of course, I've provided a link to the philosophy section of their website, but you can get to the home page from there...the philosophy page will let you know what we're all about.) Our church is a member of this organization and our way of life is greatly informed by the wisdom of John Perkins, the founder. In short, this is why we do not just do a ministry or two for the poor, but we have moved to their neighborhood so that eventually we can minister with the poor. If relocating to an area of need is not an idea that is familiar to you, I would encourage you spend a bit of time reading through the website so you can get an understanding of where we're coming from.
So Pat and I relocated to this neighborhood over two years ago. We (especially me) brought with us our middle-class mindset about...well...everything. Part of this mindset, I realized this weekend, was the idea that I came here because I had something to offer. Part of moving here, as the CCDA would put it, is to ensure a more even distribution of resources. As I thought of it on my terms, I was doing this by paying taxes that support the schools the children in this neighborhood attend. And I brought all my money with me, which I could pool with the church to do ministry or use on my own to directly benefit those around me. Or something like that.
What has happened, though, is that I spend a good deal of time feeling poor, much like the people I came to work with. If class in our society was determined solely by income, there is no way we would be middle-class. It makes me feel as though I have no resources to offer. I can't throw big parties for my neighbors or be the person who gets them a nice gift on their birthday. I find myself learning parts of the government system from the inside...just like my neighbors. I don't have anything up on them that I can offer to help them better their standing in life. What a bummer. Why did I move here, again? What good is it to move to help the plight of the poor if I just become poor, too? I haven't been feeling as sorry for myself as I've felt at other times, but these questions have been lingering in the back of my mind for awhile and surface just enough to make me feel pretty powerless.
This weekend, we attended one of the break-out sessions on empowering people in our neighborhoods. (Catch the irony?) It was led by a very spunky old woman, who has made working with the poor her life's work for over 40 years. Sitting under the sound of her voice, I had one of those moments when you feel you mentally "snap out of it." She spoke about beginning with people where they are -- with their assets. She says everyone has something to contribute and our job is to help people know what it is they can contribute to their neighborhood. It does not matter what other problems or issues a person has to work through. We are to help them see their assets, which means we are to see their assets, too, and be open to receiving from them what they have to offer us.
First of all, moving into a poor neighborhood in order to receive anything from the people there goes against the prevailing thought on the matter. We give to the poor; that is the best we can do. Or is it? The speaker had us quote to her the verse that says, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." Well, yes. That's why we give to the poor, right? We do not want to be merely people who receive blessings but also people who give them, because that is better and we want to do what is better, right? But then she called us all "gift-snatchers." Come again? If it is more blessed to give than receive, she said, it is stealing someone else's blessing when we always put them in a position of receiving. Hmm. Mindset change #1. I should be looking for what my neighbors have to offer me. This recognizes the dignity God has given them and affirms to them that they have good things to offer other people. So, sitting in that session, I began racking my brain to think of what my neighbors may have to offer me. What could I ask of them? I already ask to borrow an egg from time to time, but that's pretty trivial. What do they really have to offer?
Then she said you can't be fake about asking things of them. You have to actually need the thing they have to offer. Crap. Stop trying to come up with things they can do for me so they can have done something for me. Now what?
I don't know that it sunk in during the session, but certainly over the course of our time there, I had an epiphany of sorts. (And, dang it, it's after I already sent out our epiphany letter!) I have moved into this neighborhood and found myself in a place of need repeatedly. Now, I'm not ready to go asking to borrow a buck from my neighbors (the need isn't that severe, and I don't think that's the sort of thing that would be beneficial to our relationships). However, finding myself in a position of financial need many times since moving here has led me to feel pretty worthless from time to time...which very well may be a feeling I share with my neighbors. We find ourselves in the same boat in this way. The playing field is leveled and I don't have anything to offer them that they might not have to offer me: expertise in a different subject or time (which I may be more short of than them these days) or creative thinking or friendship or who knows what else. And this not having much in the way of financial resources should force me to figure out what other resources I have to offer. Money is not THE resource the way I had been thinking. According to that way of thinking, neither me nor my neighbors have anything to offer anyone. So, when this is all said and done, I will know how to treat people like they have things to offer, even if they are poor, because I will have to take myself through that process first. And that is grace beyond grace, because I will not have to make it up and I will not be fake about it because I will not be treating others any different than I am learning to treat myself. (Not that I'm done...I just now know my assignment.)
I by no means hope to live as paycheck-to-paycheck as we do currently for the rest of our lives, but I recognize that it is a blessing that is preparing us for the work we are to do here. And it is good for this time in our lives. (Remind me of this if you hear me starting to grump about it again. I might not like you for a few minutes, but remind me anyway.) God is faithful to help me see people as He sees them -- beginning with me. This is good.
So Pat and I relocated to this neighborhood over two years ago. We (especially me) brought with us our middle-class mindset about...well...everything. Part of this mindset, I realized this weekend, was the idea that I came here because I had something to offer. Part of moving here, as the CCDA would put it, is to ensure a more even distribution of resources. As I thought of it on my terms, I was doing this by paying taxes that support the schools the children in this neighborhood attend. And I brought all my money with me, which I could pool with the church to do ministry or use on my own to directly benefit those around me. Or something like that.
What has happened, though, is that I spend a good deal of time feeling poor, much like the people I came to work with. If class in our society was determined solely by income, there is no way we would be middle-class. It makes me feel as though I have no resources to offer. I can't throw big parties for my neighbors or be the person who gets them a nice gift on their birthday. I find myself learning parts of the government system from the inside...just like my neighbors. I don't have anything up on them that I can offer to help them better their standing in life. What a bummer. Why did I move here, again? What good is it to move to help the plight of the poor if I just become poor, too? I haven't been feeling as sorry for myself as I've felt at other times, but these questions have been lingering in the back of my mind for awhile and surface just enough to make me feel pretty powerless.
This weekend, we attended one of the break-out sessions on empowering people in our neighborhoods. (Catch the irony?) It was led by a very spunky old woman, who has made working with the poor her life's work for over 40 years. Sitting under the sound of her voice, I had one of those moments when you feel you mentally "snap out of it." She spoke about beginning with people where they are -- with their assets. She says everyone has something to contribute and our job is to help people know what it is they can contribute to their neighborhood. It does not matter what other problems or issues a person has to work through. We are to help them see their assets, which means we are to see their assets, too, and be open to receiving from them what they have to offer us.
First of all, moving into a poor neighborhood in order to receive anything from the people there goes against the prevailing thought on the matter. We give to the poor; that is the best we can do. Or is it? The speaker had us quote to her the verse that says, "It is more blessed to give than to receive." Well, yes. That's why we give to the poor, right? We do not want to be merely people who receive blessings but also people who give them, because that is better and we want to do what is better, right? But then she called us all "gift-snatchers." Come again? If it is more blessed to give than receive, she said, it is stealing someone else's blessing when we always put them in a position of receiving. Hmm. Mindset change #1. I should be looking for what my neighbors have to offer me. This recognizes the dignity God has given them and affirms to them that they have good things to offer other people. So, sitting in that session, I began racking my brain to think of what my neighbors may have to offer me. What could I ask of them? I already ask to borrow an egg from time to time, but that's pretty trivial. What do they really have to offer?
Then she said you can't be fake about asking things of them. You have to actually need the thing they have to offer. Crap. Stop trying to come up with things they can do for me so they can have done something for me. Now what?
I don't know that it sunk in during the session, but certainly over the course of our time there, I had an epiphany of sorts. (And, dang it, it's after I already sent out our epiphany letter!) I have moved into this neighborhood and found myself in a place of need repeatedly. Now, I'm not ready to go asking to borrow a buck from my neighbors (the need isn't that severe, and I don't think that's the sort of thing that would be beneficial to our relationships). However, finding myself in a position of financial need many times since moving here has led me to feel pretty worthless from time to time...which very well may be a feeling I share with my neighbors. We find ourselves in the same boat in this way. The playing field is leveled and I don't have anything to offer them that they might not have to offer me: expertise in a different subject or time (which I may be more short of than them these days) or creative thinking or friendship or who knows what else. And this not having much in the way of financial resources should force me to figure out what other resources I have to offer. Money is not THE resource the way I had been thinking. According to that way of thinking, neither me nor my neighbors have anything to offer anyone. So, when this is all said and done, I will know how to treat people like they have things to offer, even if they are poor, because I will have to take myself through that process first. And that is grace beyond grace, because I will not have to make it up and I will not be fake about it because I will not be treating others any different than I am learning to treat myself. (Not that I'm done...I just now know my assignment.)
I by no means hope to live as paycheck-to-paycheck as we do currently for the rest of our lives, but I recognize that it is a blessing that is preparing us for the work we are to do here. And it is good for this time in our lives. (Remind me of this if you hear me starting to grump about it again. I might not like you for a few minutes, but remind me anyway.) God is faithful to help me see people as He sees them -- beginning with me. This is good.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
sizing up the McCrorys
This post promises nothing in the way of creativity or photography, but if you just want a status update on the kids, read on.
As I write, our daughter is moving around in ways that can make my stomach look strange from across the room. She is definitely more active than Israel was in utero and surprises even our midwife with the kicks and flips she pulls off during our visits there. We had a visit with our midwife, Mabrey, last Tuesday. (We go every other week now.) While I have already gained enough weight to be full-term, I still measure small and we had an ultrasound on Saturday just to make sure everything's going okay in there. I measured small with Israel, too, so I tried not to become concerned about it. The outcome was that all the measurements that indicate how long she is -- leg and arm, etc. -- measured at 31 weeks gestation, but her abdominal circumfrence measured around 27-28 weeks. Worst case scenario: Intrauterine Growth Restriction. But nothing else indicates that would be an issue. More likely situation: I grow long, skinny babies. That sounds like good news to me as I look at giving birth in around 10 weeks. (That's right. 10 weeks.) I am having a little harder time not worrying about this pregnancy, though. With Israel I just assumed everything was fine, but I have since seen my young, healthy friends give birth to very sick babies and I'd be lying if I said the events of the last year have not affected my anxiety at all. All the same, it seems as though the smallest McCrory is growing pretty well in there and it was reassuring to see her very strong heart and to watch the technician point to all the organs and body parts in their correct places. (She even already has visible hair on her head!)
Israel is, of course, growing very well. He had his 15 month visit today, including a booster shot and a flu vaccine, which he hated. He hated being touched by anyone in the doctor's office. It's pretty obvious he knows what's coming when we go there. I had thought he had just developed a strong aversion to padded tables covered in paper, but he doesn't mind being on it when it's just me and him. (We were practicing....) He threw crying, scared fits when the nurse measured his length or his head. He especially hated it when the doctor had me lay him on the table and asked me to hold his arms still. (I still think we'd have a better shot of keeping him still if we just left him alone and played peek-a-boo instead.) The nice nurse let me hold him for his shots (which makes restraining him a TON easier). Other than the shots, Israel did great at the doctor's office. He finally made it to the 50th percentile for his weight at 24.5 pounds. (I didn't tell the nurse how much of his water he drank while we were in the waiting area.) He is 33 inches tall (93rd percentile).
I think the milestones the doctors ask about are "on the curve." The doctor asks things like, "Can he drink from a sippy cup?" and, "Does he understand the meaning of 'Mama' and 'Dada'?"and, "Can he point and grunt when he wants something?" Now Israel, and all the kids I know his age have been drinking from sippy cups for a long time now. (Who wants to hold a bottle for a kid his size?) He says "mommy" and "daddy." He says, "Daddy?" first thing most mornings and when I ask him where his daddy is, he now says, "wwwwwuuuuh..." (work). Israel is usually not allowed to point and grunt when he wants something, but says please (both with voice and by sign now) and may point or say the name of the thing he wants, usually followed by, "uh, huh!" (He likes to agree with himself.) I kind of thought they had to be joking, asking if he could grunt and understand "mama." Did they not just see him in the waiting area, as he pointed at the birds and flapped his "wings," and pointed to a dog and said, "dah... woof, woof!" Did they miss him holding his hand to his ear (his sign for "listen") and saying, "pho..." every time the phone rang in the doctor's office and "baby?!" every time a baby cried from one of the examination rooms? All this to say, Israel is either crazily gifted with verbal skills or the doctor's office asks questions to help everyone feel that their baby is smart.
Of course, I am growing, and my verbal skills are decreasing. "Milk, please..." and, "Do you need to potty?...potty...? Can you say, 'potty?'" are about the most complex sentences you will hear me use most of the day. I feel my spoken vocabulary consists of a few hundred words that I repeat over and over these days. (As well as some noises, like "Bah...!" and "Moo...!") Pat is not growing, and that is good. I hope to join him in his stagnation after a few months of shrinking.
You should receive a letter from us in the next few days, assuming we have found your address. (I'm still looking for some.) It has a little more in the way of a big-picture update on all of us. Let us know if you do not receive one and we'll get it to you!
As I write, our daughter is moving around in ways that can make my stomach look strange from across the room. She is definitely more active than Israel was in utero and surprises even our midwife with the kicks and flips she pulls off during our visits there. We had a visit with our midwife, Mabrey, last Tuesday. (We go every other week now.) While I have already gained enough weight to be full-term, I still measure small and we had an ultrasound on Saturday just to make sure everything's going okay in there. I measured small with Israel, too, so I tried not to become concerned about it. The outcome was that all the measurements that indicate how long she is -- leg and arm, etc. -- measured at 31 weeks gestation, but her abdominal circumfrence measured around 27-28 weeks. Worst case scenario: Intrauterine Growth Restriction. But nothing else indicates that would be an issue. More likely situation: I grow long, skinny babies. That sounds like good news to me as I look at giving birth in around 10 weeks. (That's right. 10 weeks.) I am having a little harder time not worrying about this pregnancy, though. With Israel I just assumed everything was fine, but I have since seen my young, healthy friends give birth to very sick babies and I'd be lying if I said the events of the last year have not affected my anxiety at all. All the same, it seems as though the smallest McCrory is growing pretty well in there and it was reassuring to see her very strong heart and to watch the technician point to all the organs and body parts in their correct places. (She even already has visible hair on her head!)
Israel is, of course, growing very well. He had his 15 month visit today, including a booster shot and a flu vaccine, which he hated. He hated being touched by anyone in the doctor's office. It's pretty obvious he knows what's coming when we go there. I had thought he had just developed a strong aversion to padded tables covered in paper, but he doesn't mind being on it when it's just me and him. (We were practicing....) He threw crying, scared fits when the nurse measured his length or his head. He especially hated it when the doctor had me lay him on the table and asked me to hold his arms still. (I still think we'd have a better shot of keeping him still if we just left him alone and played peek-a-boo instead.) The nice nurse let me hold him for his shots (which makes restraining him a TON easier). Other than the shots, Israel did great at the doctor's office. He finally made it to the 50th percentile for his weight at 24.5 pounds. (I didn't tell the nurse how much of his water he drank while we were in the waiting area.) He is 33 inches tall (93rd percentile).
I think the milestones the doctors ask about are "on the curve." The doctor asks things like, "Can he drink from a sippy cup?" and, "Does he understand the meaning of 'Mama' and 'Dada'?"and, "Can he point and grunt when he wants something?" Now Israel, and all the kids I know his age have been drinking from sippy cups for a long time now. (Who wants to hold a bottle for a kid his size?) He says "mommy" and "daddy." He says, "Daddy?" first thing most mornings and when I ask him where his daddy is, he now says, "wwwwwuuuuh..." (work). Israel is usually not allowed to point and grunt when he wants something, but says please (both with voice and by sign now) and may point or say the name of the thing he wants, usually followed by, "uh, huh!" (He likes to agree with himself.) I kind of thought they had to be joking, asking if he could grunt and understand "mama." Did they not just see him in the waiting area, as he pointed at the birds and flapped his "wings," and pointed to a dog and said, "dah... woof, woof!" Did they miss him holding his hand to his ear (his sign for "listen") and saying, "pho..." every time the phone rang in the doctor's office and "baby?!" every time a baby cried from one of the examination rooms? All this to say, Israel is either crazily gifted with verbal skills or the doctor's office asks questions to help everyone feel that their baby is smart.
Of course, I am growing, and my verbal skills are decreasing. "Milk, please..." and, "Do you need to potty?...potty...? Can you say, 'potty?'" are about the most complex sentences you will hear me use most of the day. I feel my spoken vocabulary consists of a few hundred words that I repeat over and over these days. (As well as some noises, like "Bah...!" and "Moo...!") Pat is not growing, and that is good. I hope to join him in his stagnation after a few months of shrinking.
You should receive a letter from us in the next few days, assuming we have found your address. (I'm still looking for some.) It has a little more in the way of a big-picture update on all of us. Let us know if you do not receive one and we'll get it to you!
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