After receiving so many beautiful comments and e-mails so soon after the attack by the trolls. There is a reason they call them that for trolls are the most hideous creatures in all of fairy tale land.
It was the timing of all of this that hit me so hard. Partly because it should be a joyous day in our house as we celebrate a birthday. Christopher was our surprise mid-life child when we had been told we couldn't have anymore children. Stephanie was not a surprise but she was our miracle, born after the doctors told us I may not be able to carry a baby full term since Matthew had been born so early.
I had enough baking supplies left in the pantry to make him a Texas Sheet Cake to take to work with him. I had used a few dollars of what Stephanie sent me to purchase a box of Krispy Kreme pumpkin spice donuts as a birthday morning surprise. I had given him his sister and brother-in-law's gifts the night before, as well as the gym bag I found at Goodwill and the Archaeological Study Bible purchased with Amazon credit.
I would have loved to take him out to dinner as we used to on birthdays but that wasn't possible in the year I find myself looking for change at the bottom of my purse to buy milk. Many of you have been there.
So, you can imagine, to have someone tell me there are poor people out there needing that food. Um, yes... waving my hand in the air. Today I could see the humor in the situation but at the time, nothing was funny.
I don't think of myself as poor but government statistics tells me I am. Except for the state in which I live, which counts Christopher's income he uses for college as part of the total. We've already decided he may become "independent" next school year, living with some of his friends near campus. It will cost him more but remove his income from our total so I can get Medicaid in case I need to be hospitalized.
I never want to emphasize the seriousness of our situation. Long time readers know bits and pieces. How like a slap in the face it is to be put down because your husband has been standing in long lines (in cold weather) to bring home food for the family and be told we don't deserve it because we stock the pantry when we receive extra money, through a gift or from the paychecks we earn twice a year at the bookstore.
In one of David Wilkerson's recent newsletters, he said good people are going to suffer in the coming years as we continue to see the economy falling apart. I thought of that when we were standing in the cold off a busy bypass with a flat tire and no way to change it.
We're not bad people. We are just a family who has been through many trials and tribulations due to poor physical health (which led to mental health challenges from the continual brain swelling) with the breadwinner. Then when "Mom" became ill, it only added to the challenges.
However, nothing touches us without first going through the hands of the Father and I can already look back and see good things coming from bad circumstances. By the time I reach Heaven, I won't need or want answers.
I called my daughter after leaving yesterday's post. Even though she is the daughter and I the mother, she is also a first born girl... one to go to in adversity. I am the youngest girl of eight children (although the only child of my parents later-in-life marriage), sometimes needing the help of the first born personality.
Her words? People are stupid. It brought back to me the very words I used with my children through the years. Why I have such a soft place in my heart for the non-Christian who is turned off by the Person of Christ because of the People of Christ they have met.
This morning I opened my Bible for my quiet time. A couple of times a year I read through the letters to the churches in Revelation. This morning I was stopped by the nearby Third Letter of John, where he is writing to a friend. In it he talks about the malicious gossip against them. I once told Christopher that persecution is a sign you are doing something right. I can agree with that today.
Starting next Monday, I will have to turn off anonymous comments. I hate to do that because of a handful of people who have been with me almost from the beginning who have to comment "anonymous". I will also have to moderate comments so at least when a troll comes along, it is only I who see their malicious writing and not you readers.
I was crying on Stephanie's shoulder (albeit a thousand miles away) that I put so much time into this blog and I'm not sure it is worth it. You have shown me every hour sitting at this computer... in this tiny office... at the edge of the forest... has rewards. Thank you.