Thoughts on a little baby, an anxious nation, and Christmas

At this moment, the elected leaders of our country are embattled over health care reform - and yet the issue turns on the lives of tiny, unborn babies. Will pro-life Democrats in the Congress (stalwart up to this point) cave in the way so-called pro-life Senators did? The President is putting pressure on them, we hear, yet the people's phone calls, protests, and petition campaigns are clamoring desperately to sway it all the other way.

Our daughter and son-in-law have recently been licensed as foster parents in the state of New Jersey. It's a little unusual for a young couple, married three years, and each still only 23 years of age. But - they have come to the place where they say "Our home will be a safe haven, and our hearts are willing to be broken to house the brokenhearted."

Last night, the first of these foster children arrived. Just three days old, she was born Saturday in the midst of the east coast's crippling snowstorm. She weighs only five pounds, and to this foster grandmother (whose youngest weighed almost twice that), she is startlingly tiny.

I did the grandmother thing - brought and cooked the fixings for dinner, straightened the kitchen, dispensed encouragement, threw in a little advice, and took lots of pictures. And then I held Baby D.

Oh my.

Her lightness, her gentle breathing, her soft sounds, her sleeping smiles. And then - her eyes.

We don't know her story. We don't know what prompted protective agencies to say she cannot be with the mother whose body bore her. But we know she has a right to live - someday, perhaps, reunited with a young woman whose life has been properly renewed and rearranged, with loving relatives who have lost a connection with one of their own, or with this family that already has open arms and hearts.

We pray for her future. And in doing so, we quake at her past.

For just days ago, if the mother had desired it, our government would have allowed this perfect, tiny child to die. We know how it would have gone - the terms, the procedure, the images - we've all seen and read and heard about it. Partial birth, they've called it. Frankly, on this beautiful almost-Christmas morning, I can't think too deeply on it. My mind nearly convulses at the mere thought.

And so here we are - a nation watching as its leaders tumble towards funding such horrors, at Christmas time - the celebration of the moment when the earth and its generations of people were changed forever by the birth of a miraculous, tiny, frail, beautiful, perfect - yet unplanned by his mother - baby. Jesus Christ - who came to redeem and renew, to fix and restore, to make a way for human hearts to be reunited with a loving Father, to live and die and live again.

Two thousand years later, and leaders still seek the lives of little ones (perhaps Herod, too, thought it was for 'the greater good'), while a few hearts prepare them room. And as we look in the eyes of the smallest of humankind, we hear it echo again:

Peace on earth, goodwill toward men.

Hallelujah!

I am blessed - and jazzed! - beyond measure to be able to sing with the Chapel choir for this Sunday night's "Sounds of Christmas" performance (7 p.m., December 20th, Cedar Grove, NJ, if you're in the area!). My Dad is the director (and pastor), and I stand next to my daughters and my mother (my son-in-law is also in the choir, along with several other family members).

This is the best part of my Christmas this year.

We will conclude the night with the Hallelujah Chorus. If you'd like to practice along with me, check out this rehearsal practice site. The sample is the Hallelujah Chorus, and you can click on each part to hear a professional voice predominant, with the other parts in the background.

For the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth!

Into the Woods

I've been reading a fascinating book, recommended to me by Jim Fahringer, the director of Montrose Bible Conference. It's by Richard Louv, and it's entitled, "Last Child in the Woods: Saving Our Children From Nature Deficit Disorder."

Even though I wasn't finished with it yet, I included it in my 'books from this past year' that I shared at the always-wonderful, much-anticipated annual "Gloria's Book Tea" recently.



(That event was wonderful, as usual - sitting sipping tea in a country-Victorian dining room with a table full of Christian women who love books and enjoy spending an afternoon sharing about them.)

As I read this book, I nod in agreement, time after time. Louv writes about the importance of nature on mind, soul, and body, how nature enriches our lives, how it sharpens creativity and increases intelligence, how it fosters a sense of well-being. He also goes into detail about the lack of this kind of primary experience in our society today (particularly for children), and the very serious damage it causes. There is good news in the book, however, of how to restore and reclaim a love of nature in this wired, overweight, indoor-living generation.

I'm so grateful for a childhood that emphasized the beauty of God's creation. I'm grateful for parents that took me and my brother out of school on occasion, just to drive 'down the shore' for the day (New Jersey lingo for going to the beach) - and for their sacrifice to acquire the cottage on Lake Ontario, where we can bask in outdoor living. I'm grateful for the writings of Charlotte Mason (and our Ambleside curriculum) and her emphasis on nature study and natural history. And I'm grateful that we can spend several hours each week in our homeschool to head outside and go exploring: apple orchards, state parks, farms, gardens, and woods.



God has given us the Bible - the most incredible and unique book that exists, because He wrote it. It has no equal. But I'm also glad He gave us nature - another place to see His handiwork and to learn so much about Him.