Yesterday I entered the dregs, the chaos, the indescribable--yes, yesterday I decided that instead of telling William to clean up his room (which I have realized requires an understanding he doesn't have of what "clean" means) I decided to clean alongside him. Let's just say I kept saying, "Good Lord deliver me." to which he would respond, "Why do you keep saying that?" Create your own picture of what I found.
As we finished cleaning--HOURS later--I thought, "I hope he marries well." And then a funny post started developing in my mind; a post describing the person and the attributes that person will need to live with my second and beloved nerdy, athletic son who at almost 16 I still have to remind to take a shower, put on deoderant, and brush his teeth. That person is going to have to be patient, have a great sense of humor, and understand his sensitive, loving, kind, justice filled heart. And that person is going to have to either love to clean, love to live in chaos, or have enough money to hire William a personal assistant. So I was laughing as I thought about who this person might be. Then my mind jumped (William's physical life might be chaotic, but my mind is--chaotic and connecting things that don't seem to have any connection, and I expect people to keep up, SO KEEP UP!)--back to the jump. I started thinking about William's Godmother undeniably one of the most faithful people I know--our Aunt Christy. I thought, "Thank goodness she's his Godmother because I know she not only prays for him daily but also for whomever becomes his life partner." Stay with me we're jumping again...
Right after her first born, my Godson, was born we were talking about the incredible responsibility we had in rearing our children. I was pregnant with Sarah Katherine and so didn't really yet know how immense your love can be for someone and how you can feel so ill prepared and yet so protective, and so determined. Christy told me that every night she stands over Andrew's crib and prays for him and for whomever he would some day marry. I pledged to follow her lead (I'm pretty sure I haven't been as consistent as she has been...trusting God will understand); I'm pretty sure our husbands thought we were slightly hormonal and a bit off, but hey they married us; they should have known.
So, I was writing in my mind the funny post I could write about William and his future life partner which led me to Christy which led me to tears. (Our husbands know we're a bit off; now you do too.)
I began to cry because I started to think about all the children who don't have people praying for them much less praying for people who will eventually enter their lives. My mind then jumped again to remind me that not all people pray, and that doesn't make them bad people and it isn't just not having people pray for you that is sad. I try to be inclusive and recognize and respect everyone's faith that may or may not be the same as mine and to respect there are some very good people who define themselves as agnostic or atheist, while they may not be standing over their children's cribs praying, they are planning and preparing their children for their future. Back to the children.
I went deeper into my thoughts and began to cry for the children who don't have anyone who thinks about their future, for the children who don't have anyone who believes they will have a future, for the children who don't have anyone to help them clean their rooms, for the children who don't have rooms, for the children who don't have homes, for the children who don't have anyone. I know someone who worked in New Orleans for Teach for America. Naively he asked his class of sixth graders, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" The room was silent. Finally one little boy raised his hand and said, "Mr.__________, we don't even know that we will grow up." And that young man did not.
We live in a rich country; we "fight" for our rights; and yet we have children who grow up or don't grow up without hope. And it makes me feel helpless and powerless. Those children may be helpless and powerless, but I'm not. Earlier in the day I was reading Deuteronomy preparing for EfM and it repeatedly called the Israelites to care for the widows and the orphans. In the New Testament Jesus calls the people to care for the widows and orphans. I believe there are orphans who physically have no parents and I believe there are children who are orphans because they have no emotional parents; there are orphans who have no hope. And I believe we are called to care for them. My faith tells me there is always hope and that I am to live in such a way that brings that hope to others. I am called to bring that hope to the children.
How do we live into hope? How do we bring hope to the children and to the world? How do I?
It all started with a messy room.....
1 comment:
Maybe because my guys are still covering their eyes during the kissing scenes on TV (I know, we are about to turn on a dime in that department, but for today that is where we are) I was most struck by the physical and emotional orphan piece and reminded of a book I read in the early 90s - Kotlowitz's "There Are No Children Here." Katherine Kanto Doyle my initial interest in going to law school was spurred by a need to engage in children's advocacy - something I do in a sense now with Mediation, Parent Coordination, and Educational Advocacy- but not in the way I had imagined, or in the way you are expressing the need for here. Maybe we can find a way to reach at least a few of those little people - I'm game.
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