4 years ago
(via Chemo Crud. Courage. Community. @MarkLWaltz) If you’re a regular reader here, you know of my friend and far-off mentor Mark Waltz. What you may not know is that his wife Laura has been fighting cancer valiantly for the last few months. Their fierce love for Jesus and each other both inspires and convicts me.
Everyone sees Laura after chemo crud week. When she’s happily engaging conversation at our church building, Starbucks or elsewhere in our community. It’s truly remarkable to see her smile. To experience her genuine worship as she leads us with the arts team. To admire her strength and courage.
I see her as she is now. Completely wrung out. Nauseous. Achy – from her shoulders to her toes. Tired of laying in bed, but too tired to be anywhere else.
My Family, In Black and White. (via @CTmagazine ) While I certainly haven’t felt all of the things that author Megan Hill talks about, I know that “I’m-getting-dirty-looks-and-maybe-someone-is-thinking-about-dialing-911-because-I’m-buckling-my-screaming-biracial-child-into-a-car-seat” feeling all too well.
I’m not happy about the people who stop me in the grocery store to question my fitness to be a mother to my kids. Not happy about the double- and triple-takes everywhere. But, as a parent, I’ve learned to be almost thankful for it. This scrutiny enables me to enter into my kids’ experience of a racially conscious world and to set for them an example of how to navigate it.
Someday (sooner than I’d like to imagine), my kids won’t be with me every time they go out in public. People’s nosy questions and unfriendly looks right now are the best chance I have to sympathize with my kids’ minority experience, the best chance I have to model for them how to act in the face of prejudice or false assumptions.
Simp (via son No-No’s. @MetaPicture) A glance at the tutorial that animators get when working on The Simpsons. Details matter.