A Different Boat

I feel like a competent writer when I am trying to express my philosophical or theological ideas or talking about abstract or societal concepts.  When it comes to telling my story, I find it much harder to express the depth of an experience.  It seems like everything I write down, although internally filled with enormous emotional weight, comes out cold and clinical.  Nevertheless, over the last several months I have slowly been processing through the traumatic memories of Wilder's first weeks to begin to write down our experience.  Years from now, when more of the details have faded I'm hopeful I will be glad to have this record.  So forgive the disjointed, clinical explanation writing as this was as much about processing for me as about sharing the story.   Almost a year ago, I was 36 weeks pregnant with my 4th child when my 7 year old suddenly spiked at 103 degree fever.  Next came a sore throat and then a rash all over his torso.  So of...

I've seen lot of people questioning the claims that we wear masks to protect other people more than to protect ourselves.  It seems illogical that a mask would do a better job at preventing something from going out than it does as preventing it from coming in.  So I set off to research these claims and thought it might be helpful to share my layperson summary of what I found out for those of you who, like me, have questioned this advice.  I am not a scientist by any means but I am good at researching and synthesizing information.  As a disclaimer, one I feel like should be included way more often than it has been, we still don't understand covid-19 very well so all information is subject to change at any given moment depending on the results of more research.  When we breathe out (or sneeze or cough), particles from our body are carried in droplets (aka spit).  Those droplets are what contain virus cells if you are sick (or probably/possibly if you ...

It's amazing how you can see the same thing over and over yet miss the significance, but every once in a while the power of a symbol or moment nearly knocks you off your feet. For the last few weeks especially, I have been feeling this profound sense of dread towards the future.  I'm tired of (many aspects about) our situation in the present and the future looks like a lot more of the same.  It's like we're running a footrace of unknown length so there is no way to pace yourself and no markers to pass to remind you how much closer you are to the finish line.  We're just running, and running, and running.  And somewhere amidst that, I have lost my hope and replaced it with dread.  I dread the ongoing separation and isolation from our community.  I dread turning on the computer to "go" to church each week.  I dread questions from the kids about why they can't go the places they want with the people they want.  I dread Colby missing birthdays and ...

I periodically get the bug to write a blog again.  As I thought about a couple different blog ideas, I meandered over and started reading old blogs I've written and came to two conclusions. 1) I have grown tremendously over the last 8 years.  Reading my own words about my hopes, fears, and experiences over Wesley's lifetime so far, I can recognize a ton of learning and maturing that has happened in that time.  I know a ton about systems I didn't know even existed 8 years ago.  But more than that, I have had to wrestle with so many big emotions and challenges that I'd been spared from for most of my life up to that point.  I cringe a little to read the naivety in some of my posts and I wonder how I will look back at the words I'm now writing in 10 years.  I guess I hope I will continue to grow so I will be able to see the immaturity I have now through more wise eyes.  And hopefully can read with grace and kindness towards the person I am today. ...