Tales of a Tenacious Toddler Part 1

In just a few days, I will have a two year old on my hands and I can clearly see why this stage is referred to as the "terrible twos" based on the tantrums and the ridiculous statements that I am forced to make in response to some of the "terrible" (though still quite amusing) 

1) "No, honey, you need to eat something other than marshmallows."    

     Funny story to go along with this one:  On Wednesday, Josh was bringing me breakfast because we had returned home from a trip late on Tuesday evening and hadn't done our grocery shopping yet.  I came out to the car and he told me that he needed to check on Linnea because while he was driving, he heard rustling and he realized that she had found our snack bag and pulled out the bag of marshmallows.  He wasn't sure how big of a mess she had made, only that she had been digging in the bag.  I opened the door to investigate and she looked up at me with the biggest grin on her face and shoved several marshmallows into her mouth from the pile she had created in the carseat between her legs.  I started to collect the marshmallows and put them back in the bag, then she grabbed another handful, put them in her mouth, then helped me put the rest back in the bag.  To me this reveals the true nature of toddlerhood - both devious and sweet in the same breath.

2) "Linnea, you do not take your shirt off in public."

     I would have thought it was far too early in my daughter's life to have to have this conversation, but she has recently taken to taking off her shirt in restaurants when she gets impatient waiting for the food.  Fortunately, it is just her shirt when we are in public.  But at home, it's another story...

3) "Linnea, your crib is not a toilet."

     Okay, so maybe I've never said it QUITE like that before, but the sentiment applies.  For about 4 months now, she has been taking off her pajamas in her crib if she isn't quite ready to go to sleep yet. Well, actually, it's not just her pajamas.  She also takes off her diaper.  This is more of a problem at nap time and she has been known to be found naked in her crib four to five times before she either falls asleep or we just give up on nap time for the day.  When she first started doing this, we purchased more one piece zip up pajamas, and for a little while, this worked...  Until it didn't.  

     One day, about a month after we started putting her in one piece pajamas for nap time and bed time, we had put her down for her nap.  There was chatter for a little while, and then silence, so we though she was asleep.  About 10 minutes later, she started crying and it kept getting louder.  When I went to check on her, she was standing completely naked in the corner of her crib.   When I walked in, she looked down toward the floor, pointed and said "Uh-oh!"  Her diaper and her one piece pajamas were there on the floor.  The pajamas were still FULLY ZIPPED!  We decided that she was practicing to become a toddler escape artist and promptly scheduled her for an audition for America's Got Talent.

    Another time, a few days later, the sound was different.  There was faint crying which is usually the sound that happens before she falls asleep.  Then silence.  Then chattering, which is also usually a precursor to sleep.  Then louder chatter.  Then "YUCK!  YUCK!"  When uttered by a toddler, "Yuck" is never a good sign.  I went to check on her and here is what I saw: pajamas on the floor, diaper on the floor, naked toddler in the corner of the crib pointing to a little pile of poop next to her with one word on repeat - "Yuck!  Yuck!  Yuck!"

4) "Tampons are not food."

     Probably this one does not require any further explanation - I'll just let you imagine what happens when a toddler discovers a box of tampons under the sink while mommy is showering.

These are just a few of the crazy adventures we have experienced thus far on the train ride through Toddler Town.  I have titled this post "Part 1" because I anticipate that it will not be long before I either recall more of these crazy stories OR I live through more of them.  Either way there will more than likely be a Part 2!  

An Election Season Challenge

Growing up, I looked forward to the day that I would be able to cast my vote for president.  After all, as children we were taught that in America, every vote matters.  As early as 1988, I can remember choosing who I thought should win, though at age 9, I can't say I had any valid basis for my selection.  But somehow knowing that I would someday have a choice, I felt empowered.

Finally in 2000, I had my first chance to choose.  To make my voice heard.  And I found out that my vote meant nothing.  The election in 2000 was a circus.  Between recounts, "dimpled chads," and a conflict between electoral votes and popular vote, I discovered that the American public has little say.

I learned that no president ever keeps their word because most of what they'd LIKE to do can only be accomplished if the other side cooperates - which I've never seen in my lifetime.  I learned that the media will stir up drama wherever they can to get more viewers so it's unlikely that anybody could make a FULLY educated choice.  I learned that no matter what the voting public decides, the other side is going to spend 4 to 8 years being bitter and mean about it.  And I learned that none of it matters because God is in control and whoever is in office, He has ALLOWED to be there.

I learned all of this BEFORE the current election season even began - and this election season has confirmed everything I learned and has gone far beyond.  The debates and the conventions are no longer opportunities to learn about the candidates qualifications and experience and how they intend to use it - instead they are reality shows, filled with name-calling, cat-fights and accusations.  

We have been presented with two choices, both severely lacking in virtues that are important for those seeking to be leaders. There are certainly other candidates who are more qualified but the manuscript that we are fed on a daily basis tells us that we only have the two choices and we collectively as a nation, we eat it up.  We choose our side and belittle anybody who chooses differently.  Apparently "united we stand, divided we fall" no longer applies, because even those we select as our leaders are divided.  Even these leaders belittle the other side.

So 16 years after my first election, I am FED UP.  I am fed up with elected officials who refuse to work together.  I am fed up with people who vilify anybody who see things differently than they do.  And I am ESPECIALLY fed up with self proclaimed Christians who spew hateful words about our current president and any candidate who values different things; who are looking to a candidate who regularly spews hate to "make America great again" which is really something that only God can do.   

So, with all of that said, I would like to challenge anybody who has read this far:  If you are a Christ-follower, it is your duty to love your enemies and prayer for your leaders.  Wherever you stand on the political spectrum, I challenge you to pray for our standing president Barack Obama, for EVERY presidential candidate this election (because you have to be pretty darn gutsy to volunteer for that level of scrutiny), for every candidate serving or representing your state, and for the American public to choose wisely and to be open to consider carefully.  I challenge you to try to see every candidate through God's eyes and to consider that before posting or sharing on social media.  And I challenge you to remember, above all else, to love them all, even if you don't like them.

The Agony of Remembering

When I wrote my last post, I promised that I'd be back to talk about what I had originally planned to write about.  It was supposed to be Monday night, but as it has a tendency to do, life got a little bit busy and several full days flew by in a haze of cleaning and toddler adventures and work and flying diapers.  In case you're wondering about the flying diapers, we have gone back to putting Linnea in only one piece pajamas because otherwise she removes her pants and diapers and throws them out of the crib.  I completely understand the sentiment, but we do not have enough mattress covers to allow such an arrangement to continue.

So what I had originally intended to write about was remembering.  We heard a particularly passionate sermon at church on Sunday about how looking back on where we've come from we should be more than thankful at how far we've come with Jesus.  For me, it was a bittersweet feeling - because I celebrate how far I've come since I began to follow Jesus, but I also mourn how much ground I've lost over the last several years.  Facebook's wonderful "on this day" reminder has been dredging up many painful memories of the days leading up to the last time I spoke to my mom, which are also somewhat comforting memories because it was during a season in which I felt closest to God.  I had finally begun to set goals and work toward them.  I had many great friends at church.  I was doing a 30 day yoga challenge which ended up turning into a 60 day yoga challenge.  It was the first time in a long time that I had actually followed through on a goal I set.

The day after I finished that challenge was the last time I spoke with my mother.  She went to the hospital with pneumonia and the next day she was sedated and put on a ventilator and never regained consciousness.  It was Father's Day weekend that year and I'm relatively sure that was the first time I had ever seen my dad cry.  The next 25 days were a roller coaster ride filled with ups and downs.  There were times when things looked like they were improving, followed by giant dips where we found ourselves falling so fast it made us dizzy.  This is the time in my life, looking back that I can most see God actively at work for me.  I prayed constantly.  I whispered prayers over my mom.  I had friends who came and prayed with me.  I fully put my trust in God.  And He provided, though not in the way that I had hoped he would.  My mom passed away after 25 days in the hospital, but I never once questioned God's goodness because I had so many people standing by me and caring for me so that I would be strong enough to stand by and care for the rest of my family.

The first year was ridiculously hard, and yet a ton of amazing things happened that year.  I finished National Novel Writing Month for the first time ever.  I started Weight Watchers and CrossFit and eventually lost a ton of weight.  I got my finances together and started working toward buying a condo or townhome.  I decided to try online dating again and I was confident enough to be okay when things didn't work out.  Things were going well and as much as I missed my mom each and every day, my life seemed to be on an upswing.  I was the most content that I had ever been.  Then my joy was compounded because about a year and a half after my mom passed away, I started dating Josh.  I continued on my journey and found myself in the best shape I'd been in since high school, probably better shape, actually because my diet was healthier.  As time went on I finally committed to a regular tithing schedule, I got baptized by immersion (rather than sprinkling which I'd always thought was good enough) and Josh and I were leading a small group at our church.

When people say that marriage is hard, they aren't joking.  It's absolutely a blessing, also, but it is certainly not for the weak of heart.  A few months before Josh and I got married, we experienced our first big hurdle.  And I will be honest and admit that I did not handle it well.  I mean, I did in the moment, but in the grand scheme of things, I did not handle it well.  I thought I was handling it well at the time but when I look back, I can see that I was trying too hard to be in control and not trusting God to handle it.  I have continued to struggle in this area of trusting God for our entire marriage so far and it has been damaging to my health both physically and emotionally.  I am constantly trying to control the situation, and when I can't, I feel like I've failed and then I eat... And eat... And eat...  I've always been an emotional eater, but during that season when I was fully trusting God, I did not struggle with that.

I am still trying to learn how to find that level of connection with God now that it's not just me.  I know that God should be my primary relationship, but obviously the way I connect with God as a married woman with a child is not going to be the same way I connected with God as a single woman with all of the time in the world.  It not quite like starting over, but it's like going halfway down the mountain and strapping on a hundred pound backpack and trying to go up the same way you did before.  That may be a bad analogy because it's not that it's heavy or a burden, but it does require a different path.  When you have two becoming one, as in marriage, it doesn't mean that all of your desires and plans suddenly become the same.  And because God is not a micromanager, there are things that are left up to us, and since us is more than just me, there has to be a different way to climb the mountain that works for both of us, together as one.

I'm not good at this.  Even though I wouldn't come out and say it, I often act in a way that says that I think that my way is the best way.  And when people can't see that, I get in a funk and I convince myself that God is punishing me for not doing a good enough job even though I know that is not consistent with the character of God, nor am I the only one responsible for mistakes we make together.  As a result of fighting so hard to be in control and not trusting God, I've lost so much ground in so many areas that I had previously developed good habits and I know that it is because I am so completely weak and broken on my own.  I have no strength or discipline without God.  Now that I have seen this, I am starting to try to develop healthy habits again, with the help of God, but it is a struggle every day because part of me is still clinging to the desire to control things that are not mine to control.  I pray that God would give me the strength to fully let it go and to follow His guidance in all areas of my life.

The Burden of Motherhood in the Electronic Era

My original intent was to blog tonight about the challenging (in a good way) message that I heard at church today.  But after taking a bit of time to catch up on Facebook this evening, I felt compelled to write about something else entirely.  It actually still ties into the message I heard, but in a completely different way.

 Don't worry - I'll come back to the original post tomorrow - but for now I find my heart aching for mothers all over the U.S. - and maybe the world, though I don't know if people on Facebook in other countries are nearly as critical and judgmental as they are here, so we'll stick with the U.S.  

We have just a few more minutes until Memorial Day and I am so thankful for the service of men and women who have sacrificed so that we might have freedoms in this country that are unheard of in so many countries in the world and I want to live in a way that says that their sacrifice MEANS something to me  In the same way, as a Christian, I have access to blessings that are unheard of to so many because of Jesus and I want to live in a way that says that this means EVERYTHING to me.  This is where the message at church comes in.  The sacrifice that was made for us was COSTLY.  It was a life, and not just any life, but God's only son.  This in itself is not a new revelation - it is something that all Christians know - but in the modern church in some ways it is trivialized.  It is repeated over and over, but there is no passion or purpose behind it.  People fail to acknowledge the heartbreaking reality of that sacrifice.  The part of that message that is really standing out to me right now after my time on Facebook this evening is this:  How can we as Christians take that sacrifice that is offered through God's grace and not be willing to extend that same grace to others?  How can we look back at who we used to be and how far we have come and not be willing to encourage others who are in the place that we used to be?   If we take the grace that we have been given and we hoard it as though we are somehow special, we are dishonoring God.  If we keep it to ourselves, we are squandering it.  

So you may be wondering what it is that happened on Facebook to trigger this post.  I'm sure by now you have all heard about the gorilla that was shot in a zoo so that a 4 year old could be rescued.  I saw numerous posts with the news story and in each of them the comments made me sick to my stomach. Even worse, I had several CHRISTIAN friends who shared a meme with a picture of a gorilla and the words "Not sure why they killed me.  I was doing a better job of watching that lady's kid than she was."  The meme itself made me feel ill but some of the comments that were made in each of the posts were just downright MEAN.  I know that I am far from perfect - I'm sure that I offend somebody on a daily basis.  But I do try my best to express empathy and compassion.  And I have learned to appreciate the value of empathy so much more since I've been a mother.  After all, when Linnea was born I wanted nothing better than to be able to breastfeed her, but between the anatomy of her mouth and the fact that I'd had a reduction 7 years prior, it didn't work out.  And I was reminded on a daily basis by people on Facebook that if I wasn't breastfeeding, I wasn't giving my daughter the best.  Few people said it to me directly - but it was out there, in my face EVERY DAY.

So what do the gorilla and breastfeeding have to do with church?  Everything!  Moms have one thing in common - they want to do what is best for their children.  They want to love them and care for them.  (I intentionally use the word mom here because to me "mom" implies a loving relationship where as "mother" is simply the person who birthed a child - my interpretation only.)  Different mothers have different styles of raising their children which are impacted by their cultural background, socio-economic background, their own childhood experiences, where they live, etc.  While these styles are all different, the foundation is the same - a love for their children.  But so many moms think that their way is the RIGHT way and they fail to acknowledge the value in other parenting styles and choices - and so they sit back in their chairs and judge and belittle other moms when they make different choices and an accident happens.  When one mom fails - as all moms do at some point in their lives, probably numerous times, a flock of blood thirsty vultures descends to pick at the carcass of the mistake.  We ALL make mistakes, and sometimes the consequences are more disastrous than other times, so we should ALL be willing to extend a hand of grace.

In the same way, there are many church buildings (I say church buildings because, as followers of Christ, we are all one Church) and "denominations" and for the sake of comparison, STYLES of following Jesus, but the core is the same.  And yet this tends to be a dividing point - Christians bickering with Christians over things that mean NOTHING in light of eternity.  There are certainly base values that are important, but outside of that their is a lot of freedom - and the grace that has been poured out on us who call on Jesus is the same regardless of how badly we've messed up in the past.  Before any of us opens our mouths; or in the case of Facebook, before we set our fingers free, we should pause to ask ourselves a few questions that I have heard through the preaching of several of my pastors over the years -
-Is what I want to say LOVING?
-Is what I want to say HELPFUL? (If so, is it being said in a loving tone?  Is your intent to help or to puff yourself in comparison?)
-Is what I want to say TRUE? (Also is it factually true or is it simply a matter of opinion?)
-Do you have the authority to say what you are saying?  (Were you an eyewitness reporting what you saw?  Do you have a level of knowledge on the subject of which you are speaking?  Do you have a relationship with the person whom you are speaking about or to?)

As Christians, we have all been given far more grace than we deserve, so why don't we stop hoarding the grace that we've been given to us and reflect it outwardly in all things?  Why don't we love people, even in their sin and their mistakes and come beside them in compassion?  This doesn't mean that we are saying that their sin is okay - it just means that we are willing to love them through it.  Why don't we stop trying to place blame for everything in life and instead offer a helping hand and encouraging words to people who have made a mistake?  In most cases, the person who has sinned or the mother who let her child get into a dangerous situation is beating him or herself up already.  More than likely he or she feels guilty and ashamed at the very least.  

Certainly people have been sinning and moms have been making mistakes since Eve took a bite of the forbidden fruit.  It is the by-product of the fall.  It happens daily and it happens to all of us.   And certainly there have always been critics - people whispering their judgments behind the backs of one another, spreading gossip through their prayers, watching whomever had falling with pitying looks.  But still, their was always somewhere to go to get away from the looks and whispers of judgment.  Even as recently as the 1980's, a mistake was still simply that - a mistake.  I know this from personal experience within my own family.  When I was eight years old and my brother was 5, our family took a trip to Southern California to visit my grandma and one of the things we did was to tour the Queen Mary.  At some point during the tour my brother wandered away from the rest of us and kind of got lost in the crowd.  My mother was terrified - she was freaking out, calling for him.  We were all looking for him.  And eventually they pages through the intercom system that he had made his way to the security office and was safely waiting for us.  My mom was a wonderful mom and very attentive to us.  But she was not a helicopter parent so she did extend us both a certain amount of freedom, after all that is how we learn (did we not learn anything from Finding Nemo?)  My brother had been taught that he needed to stay close and not wander, but he chose not to listen.  This does not mean that she failed as a parent, though to her it felt that way.  She placed guilt and shame upon herself without the help of a social media firing squad.  The only people who knew about it were the people who were there and a couple of other confidants whom she could depend on.  Because they were people who loved her, she was able to learn from the mistake and move on.

But here and now in the electronic age a mother's failure is made public, her shame plastered across every form of media, paraded about for all to see and to judge.  While a story like what happened with the child and the gorilla MIGHT have made the national news 30 years ago, and people MIGHT have talked about it between themselves over coffee and people MIGHT have spoken words of judgment and condemnation in regards to the mother, all of the shame and judgment would not become a national topic of conversation among MILLIONS of people who know nothing about the situation because they were not there.  With that kind of pressure, how much harder does it become to move on and learn from it?  I can't even imagine what kind of damage that kind of negative attention can do to a woman's spirit.  What ever happened to grace?  Have we forgotten that we have all made mistakes in our lives?  Have we forgotten that we have received unending grace?  Why then can we not share just a bit of it?

Let's remember that as Americans, there are many who have died so that we can have the privileges and freedoms that we have.  Let's remember that as Christians, God's only son died so that we might have life.  Let's honor the sacrifices that have been made for us by building one another up rather than tearing one another down.

Prayers for the momma whose little one got away and fell in with the gorilla - that you would be able to find peace and healing through God - that you would be able to find refuge in God from the barrage of critics.  That if you were doing your best as a mom that you would be able to hand your guilt over to God and if you were not, that you would learn from this experience and call out to God to help you to grow in whatever area you may need growth.  

Prayers for all mommas, that you would be able to lean on God in times when you are feeling weak, when you feel like you are not doing enough, when you find your energy wearing thin.  That you would strive to do the best you can, with God's support, on any given day and to love, serve and support even those mothers with whom you rarely agree.  

Prayers for all who have sacrificed that we might have life abundant.  Prayers for the men and women who have committed to protecting our country, that God's protection would be over you and your families - and that if you don't know him that you will come to know him as your true protector.  And most importantly, prayers of thanksgiving for the amazing and glorious sacrifice of Jesus.  

Misplaced Gifts

When I was growing up, my mom would often buy gifts for people in our family when she happened to see something on sale that made her think of a specific person.  She would then proceed to stow the gifts away until an "appropriate" gift giving occasion.  Sometimes, when an occasion rolled around, such as a birthday or Christmas, she would remember having bought a specific gift, but she had lost track of it in the time that had passed since she bought it.  This meant a lot of extra time spent looking around for the gift.  Sometimes the misplaced gift wasn't found in time for the occasion for which it was intended and a new gift would be purchased.  Other times my mom would look at a gift and begin to question whether the recipient would actually like the gift.  Some gifts were just forgotten in the busyness of life.  So many gifts ended up in boxes in the closet, never to be given for whatever reason.  Many years later, when we stumbled upon them again, some of them were no longer relevant for whatever reason - a season of life when it would have been appropriate had passed, the trend had come and gone, the intended recipient had gotten older and outgrown the gift.

Right now I'm in a stage in my life where I have stumbled upon the box of gifts that God has given me that I have just stowed away in the closet and I find myself remembering when "I used to" pray fervently and "I used to" write songs and poems and essays and "I used to" love singing worship and "I used to" take care of my body and so many other things "I used to" do.   Over the last several years God has blessed me with a husband and a beautiful daughter, but I have become so wrapped up in my blessings, I forgot all about the gifts that God has given me to share with others.  Gradually, one by one, they have been shoved aside because there's "just no time" or "I'm too tired" or "I can't do it by myself."  What I've discovered as I've begun to unpack the box again, is that the reason I have no time, energy or motivation is because my focus switched from the giver of the gifts and the blessings (God) to the recipient (me).  And the scary part is that I didn't even realize it was happening.

I think part of me expected God's blessings to be without difficulty.  I'm not sure why I thought that, because the Bible is filled with people who had to face challenges even in their blessings.  But when it was finally time for me to receive the blessings I had waited so long for, things were actually quite difficult and I sometimes found myself questioning if my life was really a blessing or if I was being punished for some mistake I had made in the past.  Most of the time, I snapped out of it quickly because I had good friends who shared their own struggles with us which made it clear that it was totally normal.  But as time went on, our friends moved on to other things, they took different paths, and we found ourselves growing more isolated.  When God called us to move, we knew that it would be difficult because it would mean leaving behind even the friends we did have, but we were excited to see how God would grow our family through it.

As excited as I was to experience something new, I think it was more difficult for me.  I have a much harder time meeting people and getting to know people than Josh does.  I was also sort of in a phase of mourning because my season of staying at home with Linnea was coming to an end.  I wouldn't have been able to continue staying home with her in Reno, either, but going through it away from my mom friends made it more difficult.  With all that was happening when we first moved, we fell out of the practice of praying together nightly, which we had been doing pretty much since we got married.  We were each praying on our own, but for me not praying together made me feel more isolated.  I let so many things get between myself and God that it wasn't until we finally made a couple of connections with people here that I realized that even my joy had been shoved away in the box in the back of the closet.

Once I found my joy again (which still comes and goes since I'm out of practice) I started digging through that box and I found my prayer and I started praying daily with Linnea so that she will not be afraid of praying out loud.  I found my love for learning and Josh and I picked out a devotional to do in the evenings.  I found my desire to be healthy and I have hand more than about 5 sodas in the last eight weeks - and I'm working on the rest.  And most recently, I found my passion.  Over the last six months, most of the times I thought about writing it was, "Gee - I wish I could find a way to make money with my writing." And then I would find myself stuck, completely unable to write because my motives were wrong.  I was not enjoying the gift that God gave me and I wasn't sharing it.  Instead I wanted to pimp it out to the highest bidder.  That may sound a bit crass, but that is literally what I was trying to do.  I was trying to write about subjects of which I knew little just to meet the needs of a paying publication rather than writing from the overflow of my heart.

Much like the gifts my mom bought, my passion for writing has sat in the closet getting stale.  It is a little bit dusty and could use some polishing because I'm out of practice.  Some of the ideas I've had are no longer relevant because times have changed since the last time I was committed to writing regularly.  And some ideas have been forgotten.  I have been waiting around until I "feel like" writing or until I think of something "good enough" to draw the attention of some readers - but God gave me this gift for so much more.  He has called me to write for my enjoyment and hopefully for simple entertainment value.  He has called me to write as a way to process my thoughts about Him and my journey through life and faith.  And he has called me to write as a way to connect with people I may not have ever talked to otherwise.

Love is Bigger than Politics

The below is a post I made on my Facebook page in response to something a friend shared about why the "right" is the side for Christians when it comes to politics.  My initial response was anger and I wanted to write an argument to DESTROY that point of view.  And my gut reaction was not loving at all.  Next, I wanted to show all of the ways that the "right" is wrong.  And then all of the ways the "left" is wrong and why we're all just totally HOSED!  And then my husband saw the same post I had seen and said, "I can't believe he would post that on Easter."  And in that statement I was convicted.  I had been writing a post that only saw the bad and did not see the cross.  I still felt compelled to share my heart but in that moment God placed the love colored glasses in front of my eyes and what follows is the result.

A thought on Easter - Jesus gave his life to save all humanity.  Jesus's sacrifice is bigger than race, gender, nationality, denomination, and (particularly timely) political affiliation.  It is a free gift to ANYBODY who would accept it.  I do not like conflict so I only talk politics with those who have proven they can have a differing opinion without making it a competition.  But today my heart is weighing as my newsfeed fills with vitriolic statements on a day that is supposed to be all about God's LOVE.
During election seasons I tend to keep my thoughts to myself because I find myself disgusted by all of the hatred and mean-spiritedness that goes along with it.  My ideal candidate would be the one who made their campaign by serving the people in tangible ways.  Spending their campaign dollars on helping rather than hurting.  I am registered as a non-partisan because I think both sides have it wrong.  Yes, I think life begins at conception, but I cannot fully support the party that values the unborn but fails to care for the hurting, broken and downtrodden who are already among us.  At the same time I cannot fully throw myself behind the party that wants to take care of people but fails to hold them accountable in any way.  I struggle with the death penalty because while my flesh thinks some people deserve it, my heart reminds me I'm called to forgive.  There are so many things that seem disconnected from the heart of God on each side that nobody can rightly claim that one party has all of the right answers.  God calls his people to unity, not division modern day politics are all about division.
I recently saw an article suggesting that rather than protesting abortion clinics, perhaps the more Christ-like and loving thing to do would be to hold signs offering to adopt the unwanted children.  My heart found joy in this idea and my mind saw it as a balance between both sides of the political spectrum.  It addresses the moral desire to save the unborn but offers a loving and compassionate alternative to what may seem like a struggling woman's only option.
So this Easter, as one of the most contentious elections on the books swirls around us, why don't we show what Jesus' sacrifice was all about by loving not just those like us, but also those who oppose us;  serving not just those who earn it, but also those who have made mistakes; and spending time with not just those who already know and accept Jesus but also those who have so often been shut out that they despise all that he stands for.  Let us show Jesus' love by how we love.