I just got a notice from one of the stores I frequent, informing me of a toy recall. It wasn't something I'd purchased, but, yet again, too much lead in the paint.
It just goes to prove, it's safer and cheaper to let your kids play with crap laying around the house than it is to buy them crap from a store.
Of course, there are always paint chips and window sills to worry about...
Friday, March 21, 2008
Saturday, March 15, 2008
Hardened
I've been thinking about many things, but so rarely have time to sit down at my computer and write them all out, although I truly wish I could and would more often. Life has calmed down for me, but there are of course always new challenges. I've noticed how sensitive my soul has become since the loss of my baby.
I've always considered myself a thick-skinned person... insensitive, almost. I wanted to think I was caring, but I often had to force myself to really care about things that affected others so deeply. I remember in youth group when one of the adult leaders passed away, how... hard I felt. I thought it was a strength, so I could be a support to my friends and see a different perspective. But deep down I think I've always known that hardness isn't the most desired trait a person can possess. It often comes from painful experiences and relationships. I've never been very emotional, so it's been easy to mistake that personality trait with my hardness.
There have been some times when I've realized how callused I am. And I haven't ever known how to change it. I didn't necessarily want to be that way, but it has worked for me. It's been OK. But OK isn't always really OK. And hardness certainly isn't OK for someone who wants the love of Christ to live and move in her life. When you're hard, you don't notice softer things. You don't feel the gentle tugs for compassion and goodness that pull at your heart. You might conciously see something happening, but it doesn't affect you, even when you want it to. And that's what I've been like for so many years.
I remembered recently that before this recent trial, I prayed that God would break me. I can't remember the thought process behind it, but I remember thinking about the hardness I have, and how it was making certain parts of my life difficult. I realized that the combination of hardness and being unemotional wasn't working, that it was making me proud. So I asked God to break me.
I don't know if it was all working together or not, and I certainly don't think God let this happen for that specific reason. But, nonetheless I am finding that these experiences have torn away a layer of stone that sheltered my heart. I think it's been good. It's let me share in others' pain in a way I never used to be able to. It's allowed me to cry over small things and big things, and not feel like I need to hide. It's made me stronger, and it's given me a fellowship with God's heart that I never knew was possible. There's a newness in beauty and innocence and love now, and I think, despite what my training and instincts tell me, I want to embrace it and know softness again.
I've always considered myself a thick-skinned person... insensitive, almost. I wanted to think I was caring, but I often had to force myself to really care about things that affected others so deeply. I remember in youth group when one of the adult leaders passed away, how... hard I felt. I thought it was a strength, so I could be a support to my friends and see a different perspective. But deep down I think I've always known that hardness isn't the most desired trait a person can possess. It often comes from painful experiences and relationships. I've never been very emotional, so it's been easy to mistake that personality trait with my hardness.
There have been some times when I've realized how callused I am. And I haven't ever known how to change it. I didn't necessarily want to be that way, but it has worked for me. It's been OK. But OK isn't always really OK. And hardness certainly isn't OK for someone who wants the love of Christ to live and move in her life. When you're hard, you don't notice softer things. You don't feel the gentle tugs for compassion and goodness that pull at your heart. You might conciously see something happening, but it doesn't affect you, even when you want it to. And that's what I've been like for so many years.
I remembered recently that before this recent trial, I prayed that God would break me. I can't remember the thought process behind it, but I remember thinking about the hardness I have, and how it was making certain parts of my life difficult. I realized that the combination of hardness and being unemotional wasn't working, that it was making me proud. So I asked God to break me.
I don't know if it was all working together or not, and I certainly don't think God let this happen for that specific reason. But, nonetheless I am finding that these experiences have torn away a layer of stone that sheltered my heart. I think it's been good. It's let me share in others' pain in a way I never used to be able to. It's allowed me to cry over small things and big things, and not feel like I need to hide. It's made me stronger, and it's given me a fellowship with God's heart that I never knew was possible. There's a newness in beauty and innocence and love now, and I think, despite what my training and instincts tell me, I want to embrace it and know softness again.
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