The phone rang on Friday around 2 o'clock and it was my husband, "Honey, I am so glad Katie is at home with you doing Homeschool. There was another school shooting."
As he told me the horrific and tragic news, I couldn't help but mourn for the parents left behind of these precious children that were murdered. Then, my heart selfishly thanked God that it wasn't my Katie.
As we find out more about these children, it hits closer and closer to home. These children were all either Katie's age or within months of her age. 6-7 short years ago, mothers were giving birth to these precious babies within months of Katie's birth. Did they have any idea how precious every moment would be?
One victim's father said, “My daughter Emilie would be one of the first ones to be standing and giving her love and support to all those victims, because that’s the kind of person she is, not because of any kind of parenting my wife and I could have done but because those are the gifts that were given to her by our heavenly Father,” source
So here comes the big question. "Why does God allow bad things to happen? Especially to these sweet little children?"
I would encourage anyone with that question to click on this link.
It's no secret that our husband and I made the decision to teach Katie at home under God's direction. There are so many important reasons aside from her physical safety.
Abraham Lincoln (our 16th President) stated:
"The philosophy of the school room in one generation will be the philosophy of government in the next."
Monday, December 17, 2012
Saturday, December 1, 2012
Seeing Through a Glass Darkly
I had to share this article written by Debi Pearl of nogreaterjoy.org.
"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." 1 Corinthians 13:12
~Eternity is so eternal, so terribly final, so completely forever. Death is not final. By the grace of God, it is not without hope.~
Twenty Two years ago a wonderful, sweet darling two-year-old boy, whom I loved, came down with a fever. Within 24 hours he was dead.
During the days after his death, while the family grieved, I kept his baby brother. I remember starting at my sweet Rebekah and feeling a sense of relief that it was not she who was taken. "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." What I am about to say will be hard for many of you to understand, but as an older woman I feel compelled to speak.
Death is not the worst enemy. When I was a young mother, this truth was simply beyond comprehension. To lose a child was my worst fear. I avoided long bridges because I was afraid I could not save all my children if the car plunged into the water. I carefully chose cars by the ease of opening the safety buckles and doors-just in case. I studied medications, familiarizing myself with potential problems and learning how to use alternative medicines. My natural instinct to protect my children, regardless of the cost was in full operation. God gave me that instinct. Along the way, other children whom I knew died , and I continued to cling to my children, trying to guard their safety. Yet how frail my efforts would have been if death had come calling.
When you are young and raising a family, death seems to be the ultimate loss. The grief is a pain you can only know first hand. When we are young we see through a glass darkly. As we grow older, life is not as big as we thought it was when it was all before us. Life in this flesh is quite temporary. I am not so old yet. Life is still precious. Death is still the enemy. I continue to cling to life, not only my own but to that of those I love. Yet my clinging has changed.
"For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known." 1 Corinthians 13:12
~Eternity is so eternal, so terribly final, so completely forever. Death is not final. By the grace of God, it is not without hope.~
Twenty Two years ago a wonderful, sweet darling two-year-old boy, whom I loved, came down with a fever. Within 24 hours he was dead.
During the days after his death, while the family grieved, I kept his baby brother. I remember starting at my sweet Rebekah and feeling a sense of relief that it was not she who was taken. "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." What I am about to say will be hard for many of you to understand, but as an older woman I feel compelled to speak.
Death is not the worst enemy. When I was a young mother, this truth was simply beyond comprehension. To lose a child was my worst fear. I avoided long bridges because I was afraid I could not save all my children if the car plunged into the water. I carefully chose cars by the ease of opening the safety buckles and doors-just in case. I studied medications, familiarizing myself with potential problems and learning how to use alternative medicines. My natural instinct to protect my children, regardless of the cost was in full operation. God gave me that instinct. Along the way, other children whom I knew died , and I continued to cling to my children, trying to guard their safety. Yet how frail my efforts would have been if death had come calling.
When you are young and raising a family, death seems to be the ultimate loss. The grief is a pain you can only know first hand. When we are young we see through a glass darkly. As we grow older, life is not as big as we thought it was when it was all before us. Life in this flesh is quite temporary. I am not so old yet. Life is still precious. Death is still the enemy. I continue to cling to life, not only my own but to that of those I love. Yet my clinging has changed.
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