2 years

Everyone experiences grief differently, not a right way or a wrong way, but differently. I suppose we all have ideas of what grief should look like, or will look like, but the truth is, we don't know how we will respond until it happens.

Two years ago on this day, my first grandson died. We lived our worst nightmare that first month. The first year continued to be hard, all the firsts without Harper- Christmas and birthdays and Mother's Day and vacations. But I guess that maybe I thought after that first year it would get easier.

I didn't anticipate that, really, it doesn't get easier. Not really. There will always and forever be a hole in our family. Last month, I sent Advent calendars to my grands, and I had to rip up a card, and then an envelope, when without even thinking, I wrote Harper's name on both. I do that all the time when naming my grands. I never really know what to say when asked how many grandkids I have. I have four, but not everyone knows how to respond when you mention, "but my oldest died." This year, my second grandson turned the same age of his brother, and all of the sudden I realized, "He's going to start doing things that Harper never did..." And such begins a different season of grief.

On this day, I'm a little bit short of breath, remembering my guy. But I want to make sure, I do not grieve as those without hope.  In response to a grieving mother, John Piper wrote about honoring God even in our sorrow, that "at every moment of the lengthening grief, we turn to him, not away from him. And therefore, the length of it is a way of showing him to be ever present, enduringly sufficient."
This I know to be true. 

I think that perhaps, most of all, we want to believe that the loss of our dear one was not in vain. Harper died of a heart condition that was not discovered. But his death gave opportunity for all the kids of the family to be checked for the same abnormality. And so, although we mourn, we were also comforted when Harper's younger cousin was found to have the same heart condition, and had it corrected by surgery. In a strange way, our loss perhaps saved a little one and for that, we rejoice.

But more than anything else, I trust the sovereign God, and respond with the saints of old who when asked "What is thy only comfort in life and in death?" respond, 

"That I, with body and soul, both in life and in death, am not my own, but belong to my faithful Savior Jesus Christ, who with His precious blood has fully satisfied for all my sins, and redeemed me from all the power of the devil; and so preserves me, that without the will of my Father in heaven not a hair can fall from my head; yea, that all things must work together for my salvation. Wherefore, by His Holy Spirit, He also assures me of eternal life, and makes me heartily willing and ready henceforth to live unto Him."

Even still, miss you much, Harper buddy.

 

357/365

(DPP23- "How did you become the woman with 86 Christmas bears?!")

It started as an innocent purchase in 1993 to celebrate the birth of a granddaughter coming to town for Christmas. You've seen them, probably, those of you who shop at K-Mart. They sit there on the shelves waiting for you every year. Most of us see them and say something like, "Oh how CUTE!" But then we keep walking.

No, not this GrandT. She saw the Mama Bear and Papa Bear and Baby Bear in coordinating Christmas hats and scarves, each with the date embroidered on the foot. She said something like "Oh how CUTE!" And then she put them, all three, in her cart.

And the next year, it happened again. And the following year. And it was if K-Mart started noticing that she would buy- and some years they might have two baby bears. Or an aunt and uncle bear. Not one to miss an opportunity, she would bring those bears home, too.

Fast forward to 2017. 24 years later. No one is really sure how many make up the Christmas bear population. The guesses number somewhere between 72 to 86. At any rate, it's more than can be displayed in the house. A few bears stayed in hibernation in their red and green plastic storage box caves this year.

The good news is that although the Christmas bear population has grown, so has the number of grandchildren. It is well known that at some point, probably not anytime soon, the bears will be relocated among 8 grandchildren. No bear family will be separated.

But as a warning to those of you who might be tempted by such a thing- perhaps you should keep walking!

"Time and place forever"

“I don't believe that grief passes away. It has its time and place forever. More time is added to it; it becomes a story within a story. But grief and griever alike endure.”

― Wendell Berry, Jayber Crow

A year ago almost right now, a piece of Harper's heart stopped working, and a piece of our hearts stopped working too. Even 365 days later, thinking about that morning and the days that followed feels much like a kick in the gut. The initial impact knocks you over for certain, but even after you dust off and stand up, the ache remains, surprising you down the road, even when you start to think that maybe you are healed.

In my mind, Harper will always be a blond blue-eyed sprite with a cowlick on top. His hand will always fit into mine. His teeth will always be baby-teeth with a gap in front. He will always kindly side up for one more selfie. He will always be suspended in a moment in time. He will never know that I probably couldn't catch him in a footrace any longer. 

12 months later, I still don't really know how to answer when asked how many grandkids I have. My answer is three. But not every one asking polite questions wants to hear the explanation that could follow the seemingly simple reply. I want to tell folks about my first grandson, but that takes extra words and sometimes a bit of time. Death is so much a part of our lives, and yet, death is awkward sometimes, isn't it?

I took my grandkids to the playground this summer, and out of the blue, my three year old beauty unexpectedly blurted out to the kid in front of her, "My brother died." The kid looked at me, eyes a little bit wide and questioning, and shrugged. I kind of had to laugh. Because, waiting in line at the swing, what is a kid to do or say in reply? I can't tell you how many times I've said Harper's name when meaning to say one of the others. My mind just can't really re-program that piece. Harper will always be at the top of the order. 

By early summer, we learned why Harper died, at least, the physical reason. That was good news in a sense, because we all want resolution to unanswered questions. That was good news, because at least we could be sure that the other kids didn't share the same problem. But, the bigger questions, why the defect, why was the defect never detected, why did Harper have to die now, those queries will never know a good response. 

I have been asked by well-meaning people, "are they over his death?" No. We will never be "over" Harper. As Berry wrote, "grief and griever alike endure." The sudden loss of this precious one from our world has caused us to experience this life differently. The piece that Harper leaves empty will never be replaced. Our family now knows first-hand how unpredictable and even short this life may be. We can not take for granted our time together. And yes, we are more inclined to anxiety over things we never considered worrying about before that day last year. Yet, even knowing the pain of loss, I would never trade the joy of the time that we have together.

This anniversary of Harper leaving us will always come during the Advent season. And yet, surprisingly perhaps, the message of Advent, the waiting, comes as a great comfort to me. I turn those familiar words from O Come O Come Emmanuel over in my head, "Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel, shall come to thee, O Israel." I can rejoice because I believe the words of Isaiah that were later repeated at the beginning of Matthew: 

All this took place to fulfill what the Lord had spoken by the prophet: 

“Behold, the virgin shall conceive and bear a son,

    and they shall call his name Immanuel”

(which means, God with us).  

(Matthew 1:22-23)

"God with us."
God with us in rejoicing; God with us in mourning.
God with us in darkness; God with us in light.

And in time and place and memories sweet, Harper remains with us too.

335/365

DPP 1-

We received the first announcement about the coming concert in September. We bought the tickets in October. We waited through November. Finally the first day of December arrived!

Let me suggest that possibly the Very Best Way to open the Advent season would be to attend a Christmas concert on December 1. Even better, take a car full of youth. Even better, take your faves! (and maybe, even better, take an adult companion... well, maybe next year...)

Have your daughter sit in the navigator's position, or maybe I should say dj's seat, on the front passenger side and have her choose the tunes for the trip. Stop to pick up the girl who just successfully presented her Freshman project (and bring her a Christmas tree and two Advent calendars because that's what she likes). Go have some lunch at Chick-Fil-A. Make a stop to buy a shirt to replace the one that was the unfortunate victim of coffee spillage (note: for the record- this time it was not me! But we'll allow that girl reveal herself...). Convince the tribe to spend a little bit of time at Half Price Books. Wander through Target for gift exchange treats and a box of cereal and a carton of milk (note: that was for the college student, not for me!). Stop to try on Ugly Christmas Sweaters.
Return to campus. Help to fluff the boxed tree. Charge the phone. Decide that 6 people in one half of a dorm room for two hours might be too much. Waste time at Starbucks. Play Hangman by the rules of the dictatorial uber-competitive sister. Laugh out loud!

Eat at Chuy's! Partake of free nachos and chips and salsa and share the Taco-Enchilada plate and feel stuffed. Navigate your way to the concert parking lot. Enjoy that extra trip back and forth over the pretty lit up bridge when you miss the exit ("keep going" can be interpreted several ways, don't you think?). Don't worry about those multiple u-turns on unlit streets or the GPS recalculating or the exasperated navigator next to you. Worry a little bit about the backseat passengers who need the bathroom now. Park the car. Return your daughter's purse to the car. Return your daughter's camera to the car. Enter the arena at your section, center stage! Turn right and climb 26 rows to the Very Very Top of the arena. Be careful not to trip. Settle in for the concert.

And what a concert! The percussion section from For King and Country left us reverberating toe to head. Why do my eyes water when we start? Was it the fog machine? Was it the thrill of that first familiar line, "Come, they told me, pa rum pum pum pum..." Was it the excited faces of my peeps five seats down? We clapped in time and sang along, even when we could not hear ourselves.

In the devotional I am reading this season, the authors remind us of "What is Advent?"

During Advent, we remember when our Savior stepped out of eternity into time to take on flesh. He came to live among us and offer His life for us, dying for our sins and rising from the grave. At Christmas, we don't just celebrate that He came; we celebrate why He came.We also anticipate Christ's promised return. After Jesus finished the work He had come to do, He promised He would return to establish His kingdom for all eternity. Celebrating Christmas is an act of worshiping the living Savior who will come again to make all things new. Jesus Christ has come, and He is coming again. This is the heart of Advent.(from Joy to the World, Advent 2017 by She Reads Truth)

Celebrating the beginning of the Advent season with A Glorious Christmas tour was indeed glorious.

Thanksgiving 2017

They came by car and by plane, from points around Texas, from work and from school. We were missing four from North Carolina, but the rest of the kids arrived at home in south Texas even before their parents came back from Mexico.

Empty nest, ha!

We planned out the food and bought the bulk of the supplies a week ahead of time, but even so, I needed my sous chefs to complete the shopping.
And to begin the cooking.

They did not disappoint.
Four, FOUR, pies- pumpkin and apple and chocolate pecan and cherry cranberry with homemade crust, even with little cut-out leaves on top.
Homemade cranberry jelly, with the secret change-up of orange juice and ginger.
Sweet potato casserole with streusel on top. (sorry- no marshmallows around here...)
All waiting when I arrived home on Wednesday evening.

Thursday morning, the turkey took its place in the oven early.
We sauteed veggies for dressing.
We boiled and mashed potatoes.
The guys created the Holliday Onion Roll-Ups.
We toasted the rolls.

And we feasted.

So much for which to give thanks as we gather around the table this year.
We counted family and friends who are family, opportunities in school and work,
new babies,
creativity,
beauty around us.
But I also number challenges and sorrows of the year among that to be thankful for, as they have allowed us to know and trust our God more.
No matter the list, we have been richly blessed.

285/365

The day before our 27th anniversary, I went to a funeral for a dear man who was married to his bride for 57 years. Think about that- they more than doubled the years I have been married to my husband. At the service, a long-time friend of the couple stood up and talked about how the husband would look at his wife so very lovingly, that in quiet and confident leadership he never stopped adoring her. 

I recently read that, regarding marriage, philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche said, "Marriage is as one long conversation. When marrying you should ask yourself this question: do you believe you are going to enjoy talking with this woman into your old age? Everything else in a marriage is transitory, but most of the time you're together will be devoted to conversation.”

I wonder, what will the conversation sound like after 30 more years? Certainly, the words, and even the tone, has changed over time. 

I remember those first years. We worked through a lot of hurt. We come from a history of mess, both my husband and I, around us and of our own doing, both. We learned a lot about each other, and perhaps not enough about own selves. Then in what seems like a blink of an eye, we transitioned to a house full of demanding little people, compounded and complicated even further by a demanding Navy schedule. We spent months at a time away from each other, communicating through 40 word messages and letters that would be read over and over in absence of presence. In our house, we joke about those times as "The Lost Years," neither of us remember certain pieces. Whether by circumstance or sheer exhaustion, we didn't make much time for conversation in those days.

Conversation takes time, doesn't it? A good conversation cannot be hurried. I smiled when my husband recently asked me to spend 30 minutes a day just talking to him. 30 minutes, that doesn't seem much. But sometimes we sit down in our living room and start to look at each other and wonder what to stay next. We remember that conversation also requires listening. For Christians, conversation requires not just listening to one another but also to the Spirit, tuning and retuning our ears and our hearts to wisdom and to stillness, qualities we rarely thought of in our beginnings together. 

On the cusp of 27 years complete, I can barely start to picture what 30 more might look like. The conversation continues.

252/365

John Steinbeck borrowed the line from poet Robert Burns, "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry." And such becomes the case when a hurricane heads your way. We had her move-in date on the calendar since June. We had the date for our mission agency country retreat on the calendar for just as long. The two dates were separated by a full week, and surely all would be well. Surely nothing could cause a conflict?!

Nothing except a hurricane.
When Hurricane Harvey set its sight on landfall in south Texas, the plans suddenly became precarious. Within a day of the move-in date, we knew that event would be postponed. We didn't know how long. As we watched the storm grow to Category 4 and slowlyslowly churn towards the shore, we didn't even know if there would be much of a school left to move into this semester!

Amazingly, the university weathered the storm incredibly well, A week and two days late, students were moving on campus. But a week and two days later, these parents were on the Pacific coast of Mexico, not the Gulf coast of Texas. We made new plans. A car full of sisters and a loyal brother-in-law and an auxiliary vehicle with the best second family we could ever hope for made the trip. And this mom sat far away and second guessed and lamented missing the day and begged for photos.

As such, the road trip a week later can't be counted as a do-over, though we did bring a load of forgotten items. But it certainly did serve to redeem the missed day. We brought tech-y dad to hook up the router and make the Wi-Fi work. We drank coffee and bought a few necessities and ate a really good Thai lunch. We walked around campus and trekked across a bit of shore. We ate ice cream. And we hugged and kissed our girl goodbye, leaving confident that all is well. (and we returned to fix the Internet one more time. And we forgot keys. And still, all is well.)

Not a lot of scenery fills the landscape between here and there. It is wide-open spaces north to south, wide-open spaces east to west. And yet, "the emptiness sings." I drove home thankful and content (and even more, with a Husker game on the radio for company). The best laid plans go awry, but plan B often works out better than you might expect.

239/365

We unexpectedly found the table full this year, perhaps the silver lining to the otherwise huge Harvey storm clouds. The birthday boy cooked up a feast for the rest of us, pork with bean sauce, stir-fried green beans and rice. But his favorite chef  stepped in to bake the traditional German Chocolate Cake, gooey coconut pecan frosting sandwiched between layers of cake and covered with a deep chocolate ganache. The glow of the candlelight competed with the camera flash, and won. I am thankful for to share another year of life with this guy.

233/365

We learned early that 1000 miles separated us from the Path of Totality, and so, catching Eclipse Fever came slow. In fact we sort of ignored all the hype. I only saw one display for the Special Viewing Glasses, at Lowe's Home Improvement of all places, and it stood empty. Fail to plan, plan to fail, says the old adage. "$14.98" read the tag. "No way!" said I. Before I gave in to prescription lenses, I wouldn't pay more than $10 bucks for sunglasses. $14.98 for a one time two minute event? 

But then, the day of came, and it was hard not to at least give it a try. You friends in Oregon and Nebraska and South Carolina. You who made pilgrimages. You who hosted Eclipse Viewing Parties. You who bought Moon Pies and Sun Drop soda and Eclipse gum. Your excitement was contagious. Suddenly I couldn't NOT at least give it a try. 

We don't have any welding masks lying around. The girls laughed at my suggestions of the Box Over the Head viewer, and we didn't have any cardboard around anyway. I read mixed review of the Selfie View of the Sun. I wasn't even sure we had plain white paper. And so I begged a short stack of leftover paper food trays from a friend, and carried them home. We found a safety pin and poked holes in the middle and hoped for the best.

15 minutes or so before peak, we went out and laid down in the middle of the street, holding the trays up to the sky, trying to get the sun shadow to show. And amazingly, it did! That turned out to be a pretty good thing, because about a minute later, a storm cloud moved past and settled right in front of the sun. Apparently the clouds, who have rarely made an appearance for months, didn't get the Cloud Parking Restriction- Big Event Solar Eclipse Today memo. 

Look at that itsy-bitsy tiny little crescent. We geeked out. 
Can you imagine what we would have been doing with a total eclipse?

I confess, I watched the news guys as the sun bisected the nation. I saw the sky darken in Wyoming and heard the crowds scream. I saw the photos of the Diamond Ring and Bailey's Beads. I found myself jealous of nifty crescent shadows across cement driveways. I even performed the requisite chorus of "Total Eclipse of the Heart." In all honesty, I don't think it was quite the same awe inspiring experience.

In her essay recounting an earlier event, "Total Eclipse," Annie Dillard wrote, "A partial eclipse is very interesting. It bears almost no relation to a total eclipse. Seeing a partial eclipse bears the same relation to seeing a total eclipse as kissing a man does to marrying him, or as flying in an airplane does to falling out of an airplane."

But when it's all you've got...

232/365

My girls have teased me that they don't need me to arrange play dates anymore. They are absolutely correct. I have ceded that task. But I'm thankful that I've had just a few more occasions to see them gather with their friends, the parents of their friends also my own friends, before they officially start a new chapter of life. On this night it was tacos and s'mores, even on a 90 degree August evening. On this night it was the youth outside, and around the fire, and obediently tolerating posing for the moms photos. On this night it was my friends around the table indoors and teens floating in and out. On this night it was the blessing of knowing that these are the people who will continue to pray, who encourage my kids to walk well, who point my kids to Christ. And on this night, it was also a gooey marshmallow on a melting square of chocolate between two crispy grahams.

219/365

The three days passed in a blink of the eye. Few things bring me more joy than spending time with these people. We shopped and sat and cooked and ate and worshipped and visited friends and played games and laughed and went to the movies and even managed to get in a hike. We did just enough. My peeps have a lot of personality (grin!). Together their similarities and differences and opinions and preferences weave a beautiful tapestry.  I love to listen to them and I love to watch them and I love to be with them. Though much too short, three days together is a pretty sweet gift. Thanks and I love you all muchly.

208/365

She was boarding the first flight before I went to bed.
In the middle of the night, I could see the next leg would depart on time.
Another pre-dawn check showed her over the Atlantic.
At breakfast, the little jet icon crossed my telephone screen into Canada.
By lunch, she reported in, through customs and live from Dallas.
And before dinnertime, the small silver plane landed on the hot blacktop of the place we call home and we waited for her to emerge from the gate.

Today, we were the Airport Reunion scene and others watched us and smiled.

Welcome home to our missionary servant traveler. We missed you, Sarahbear.

203/365

You visit the earth and water it;
    you greatly enrich it;
the river of God is full of water;
    you provide their grain,
    for so you have prepared it.
You water its furrows abundantly,
    settling its ridges,
softening it with showers,
    and blessing its growth.
You crown the year with your bounty;
    your wagon tracks overflow with abundance.
The pastures of the wilderness overflow,
    the hills gird themselves with joy,
the meadows clothe themselves with flocks,
    the valleys deck themselves with grain,
    they shout and sing together for joy.
- Psalm 65:9-13 (ESV)


He lifted read the verses and we remembered, "Oh yes, this is all grace." Then he lifted his hands and prayed. We all gave thanks for the fruit we were about to pick. The harvest this year certainly overflowed in abundance. The grapes hung heavy on the vines, intertwined bunches waiting to be extracted. The presence of the wasps and hornets and bees gave testimony to the juicy sweetness of the fruit. We filled bucket after bucket, and remarked again and again, "What bounty!" After a couple hours of searching and snipping, covered with sweat and a coat of dust, we finished. Our fingers were stained purple red and our toes showed splatters of grape juice. We smiled and rejoiced with those who rejoice. We shout and sing together for joy.

153/365

If you have a key to the house and permission to enter, it doesn't count as stealing, even if it sure feels like it, right?
That boom box? Flashback gold.
And those girls? Making me laugh since 1999...

140/365

Really, who wouldn't want their ball to come back through the gator's mouth? How is it that playing under the lights and aquatic life is somehow that much more cool than the ordinary bowling alley? And bowling balls with fish and hunting dogs and alligator eye balls? It somehow makes up for a very sub-par game, salvaged only by a semi-miraculous tenth frame that pushed my score across the 100 point threshold. Playing with this alley-full is nothing but laughs.

139/365

And then there were none.
We graduated our last high school students on Friday evening. Five graduation in five years.
Phew.

It has been a rich journey, traveling this road of homeschooling. Our primary inspiriation for the very intentional decision to keep our kids home for school came from Scripture, from passages such as
“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart. You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise. You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes. You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.
Deuteronomy 6:4-8

We began to homeschool not as a statement against anything, only as a means to teach our kids about the Lord our God throughout our day, in our coming in and going out. In addition, we were an active-duty military family in those days, and we knew that we would face frequent moves. Homeschooling allowed us to keep that one thing constant even in the midst of change.

Over the years, we found deep community and sweet fellowship among fellow homeschoolers. Our kids have never lacked for friendships, for opportunities to socialize. They have participated in extracurricular activities and athletics. They have been challenged by other teachers and students in learning opportunities outside the walls of our home. They have read 30-50 books a year as part of their history and literature curriculum. They went searching for rocks and dissected crawdads and fish and frogs and mixed up chemicals in science labs. They are fairly well-rounded students, college-ready by the highest state standard.

But perhaps even more importantly, through the flexibility of homeschooling, we were allowed opportunity for service, and to spend parts of our days looking outside our family. For years, we delivered meals to homebound seniors and invalids. We could be the last minute drop-in care for friends needing a place to send their kids. We could serve the church and her body, together. We met many characters and we have written many stories, together.

After nearly twenty years of raising up these young people, I well know that there is no perfect educational scenario. There were many times when I thought, maybe there's another, a better, option. Yes- we missed some things- no choir or band where we live, no opportunity for varsity sport competition. Quite likely, my kids would have had higher test scores with a better and more diligent math teacher. Homeschooling is not an 8-4 job. Perhaps one of the hardest part of homeschooling is that to make an opportunity, you sometimes have to make it yourself. We found others who wanted a prom, who would participate in student council, who joined us for commencement.

And yet, I feel certain that the words and the love of the Lord are written on my kids' hearts, and for that, I have no greater joy. I know, that is not my work but all the generous grace of our God. I am grateful for these 20 years, and eager to see what the next chapter holds for all of us.

134/365

A just right day for Mom's.

117/365

“And when you're alone, there's a very good chance
you'll meet things that scare you right out of your pants.
There are some, down the road between hither and yon,
that can scare you so much you won't want to go on."
- Dr. Seuss, Oh, The Places You'll Go

Ah well, it's a bit of a sad thing that the fashion gene skipped a generation. I have no better advice than to search for You Tube video instruction and no better encouragement than to offer a hearty "you can certainly do this!" I promise, we weren't lying when we said, "You look wonderful!" We wouldn't let you NOT look wonderful! I love you both for breathing deep and for wedging your feet into too small shoes and for stretching beyond your comfort zone and for loving those who love you in this little way.

a birthday

We never celebrated a birthday together, since we never lived in the same place. Truth be told, we don't always connect on birthdays, coordinating schedules and phone calls and such. And shamefully, I am often tardy to the post office and gifts don't always arrive when they should. But on this day, I especially remembered the day this guy was born. (I was on a trip to the Mall of America and shopping with friends. The labor took days. We kept waiting on updates and worked hard not to pester. We had lots of time to scour sales racks and amass a small wardrobe for a little guy.)

But today, I grieved that he's not here with us to celebrate. It's been four months and a couple of weeks since Harper died, and no- we're not over it yet. (Yes- I've been asked that. Yes- I've tried to be gracious even so.)

My daughter asked us to share some memories of Harper. You know, Ashley and Tom, how very much we love him. Harper was so very curious. I loved to answer his "why" questions and watch him think and consider the answers (and then challenge me again). I loved to read him stories and hear him debate with his brother the qualities that make one superhero more super than the other. I loved how he would snuggle up right up to my side but not in a demanding or consuming sort of way. I loved how in him I see Ashley, the same inquisitive blue eyes, the same sort of blond cowlicks, the same know-no-stranger friendliness. I loved that he took one more selfie with me at the airport that day.

The memories are sweet, but oh how I long for eternity together.
Happy birthday, buddy.

108/365

The will-o'-the-wisp, end-of-the-rainbow, daydream idea of happiness, of happy marriages, happy families, happy people, and "having a right to happiness" doesn't touch upon reality.
   What is family? A family is a blending of people for whom a career of making a shelter in the time of storm is worth a lifetime! A Christian family is meant to be different because of its knowledge that human beings are significant in this life and throughout eternity. A Christian family has been given enough in God's verbalized Word to know that when one part of the body hurts, the rest of the body is affected and does something to help.
- Edith Schaeffer, What is a Family?