I’ve not made a major announcement of my grandchildren on social media, before.
Today is different.
Our tenth grandchild and sixth granddaughter arrived today at 5:30 a.m.
She was only a tad late, and had attempted to get here all week long. Had all the pro’s fooled.
So finally, we relax, our worried prayers turning to exclamations of joy.
Finally we enjoy the sweet fruits of our lovely children’s labors, all nine months and eight days, plus 12 hours of it.
It’s a wonderful day to be born!
Tell us about a situation where you’d hoped against all hope, where the odds were completely stacked against you, yet you triumphed. Be sure to describe your situation in full detail. Tell us all about your triumph in all its glory.
Okay, WordPress, you asked for it!
The Romeike family has faced nothing but opposition and hindrance and persecution for many years. Why? Because they care about their children and had the misfortune of being born in the land of Hitler.
I’m telling it like it is, here, in all its glory, as requested, I cannot believe this was the daily prompt for today. Perfect! Pardon me if I emote. Or not. I don’t care. “And you can rattle me, shake me, smell my breath and make me roll up both of my sleeves. I’m clean. I’ve got nothin’ to hide.” –Nancy Higgenbaum.
Anyway, they were threatened, harassed, etc., just as if they were living in the land of Hitler.
So they sought refuge in the land of the free and the home of the brave and were granted permission through all the legal channels we require to live here.
GET THIS: THEY WERE LEGAL IMMIGRANTS.
After setting up housekeeping and actually finding gainful employment, THEY WERE DENIED.
Yes, I’m shouting part of the time = All its glory.
Okay, so they’re here, LEARNING ENGLISH, employed, doing everything right, being good, minding their own business, when…
Permission denied. Just like that.
While every Tomas, Ricardo, and Enrique who wants to teem over here and pander drogues is welcome, welcome, welcome…
The Romeikes were denied.
The Homeschool Legal Defense Association fought and fought and fought in courts to get them permission to live here. They are brilliant lawyers and know exactly what they were doing.
And lost. And lost. And lost.
And that is precisely why they won. Because they knew the Lord holds the king’s heart in His hand and turns it whatever way He wants.
And He wanted them to stay.
But He also wanted it to look like He had something to do with it.
So He waited. And waited. And waited.
He owns time, did you know that?
And now, after every cotton pickin’ avenue has been exhausted.
Just like that.
And I’m not done.
All its glory, remember?
Okay, so…
The story goes that Abraham’s wife was barren, which means physically unable to get pregnant, and in their culture that was more than just never having babies to cuddle; it was grounds for divorce.
But, the Lord promised Abraham children, so, to make a long story short, eventually He gave Abraham’s wife one child, a son they named Isaac.
Then God told Abraham to take Isaac up to a mountain in the same area as Mt. Moriah, and to sacrifice Isaac on top of the mountain He would show him.
I believe it was the mountain they would later name Golgotha, the place of the skull, because that’s what it looked like, a human skull.
And so, ever obedient, Abraham did what God said, but at the last moment, God told him not to.
Go ahead, you can laugh.
But…
Many centuries later, God sacrificed His OWN Son on Golgotha, as Abraham prophesied. (Genesis 22:8)
All its glory, remember?
So, the reinstatement of the Romeikes, today, after being hopelessly denied, yesterday, is a picture of salvation.
And the Holy Scripture tells us to: Stand back and see the salvation of God.
And for those who have eyes to see, that is what we are seeing today.
And this is the end of this post.
But not the end.
Not by a long shot.
WordPress Automattician? Homeschooler? Blogging co-op?
How-to?
I’ve been toying with the idea of starting a blogging class for kids for a while. I homeschool my kids and for some reason it is so hard for me to get my kids blogging. I suppose it’s the old shoemakers kids scenario. Finally, I decided the best way to get them blogging would be to offer a class to my homeschool group. Committing to working with the children of my friends would mean my kids could ride along.
After talking about it and talking about it, we finally did it. Last week, I had six kiddos in my house, sitting around the dining room table: taxing my wifi, setting up blogs and publishing their first post and second and third in some cases). In case anyone is interested in replicating this experiment, here’s how it goes:
Tools
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Shirley Temple died today. She was 85, which is hard to imagine.
I watched her darling performances when I was a child, and loved her, wanted to be her.
She was about 35 years old, then, older than my mom.
I never knew it.
When my own children were small, I searched out these amazing movies, for their viewing pleasure.
They also fell completely in love with the little cute-pie.
As an adult, I read her autobiography, Child Star. That broke my heart.
All the time she was smiling for us, it was because she feared being locked into a black box.
And all the money she made went to her mom, who used it to build luxury houses for self.
And her hair was naturally straight. Every kink came at quite a cost, for a tiny one.
But she really was that sweet and when she attended school she got in trouble for smiling all the time.She couldn’t not smile.
She just missed Valentine’s Day. Ironic, for everyone’s sweetheart, eh?
Probably my favorite of her movies are The Little Princess, because of the graciousness of the queen, the great scenes in the attic, and that thing with the ash bucket. Especially that thing with the ash bucket.
But I also love Captain January for the fairly true picture it gives of home school, and for the site of her tap dancing a hornpipe with a young Jed Clampett.
I shall miss her.
________________
All photos: Wikipedia
His gray hair and receding hairline, seemed out of place with his rippling muscles as he eased himself into the lounge chair he’d erected in the sand. His arms, legs, and chest bore the tawny hue and slick sheen of a professional tanner. His swim trunks were probably silk.
As he settled, facing the water and the scorching afternoon sun, eyes shut, the rest of us minced our way into the water. Spring-fed, it felt exactly like iced tea. I wondered if ice cubes would even melt in this lake.
I finally advanced to waist-deep and noticed another woman inching along, steeling herself against frigid wavelets from splashers nearby. She and I shared small talk about her husband betting her she could not submerge herself. So far, he was winning.
About 25 yards out, a tall rock formation provided a fun diving area. Occasionally, I could hear exactly what some child out there might holler at another. The acoustics around us, so surreal, could give goose bumps, even if the water did not, and even if the day was hotter than the lake was cold.
I worried about the elderly tanner. Was he hydrated? He had no drink container with him. He certainly was dripping with perspiration, and seemed asleep. What a shame if he blistered that expensive tan. Or overheated.
I decided to keep an occasional eye on him. The elderly sometimes have no clue about health things.
I’d just turned back to my resolve of getting completely wet, when the old guy sprang from his nap and flung himself into the water, in a perfect emergency dive. Flat, but no belly flop.
Into ice water.
On a 100-degree day.
And kept going. One powerful front-crawl stroke after another, he reached the base of that rock platform in about ten seconds.
And fished a floundering boy from the water, holding him up and safe, while the child coughed and gagged and sputtered and cried. The old man rinsed scant blood off the child’s chest, examining him closely. They mumbled conversation, the old man forcing eye contact, the child impatiently nodding his head, trying to swim free from the firm grip on his arm.
As the child climbed back up the rock, his savior watched, and called to him, “You stay away from the edge, there, you hear me?”
And then swam back, all 25 yards, almost as fast.
And walked out onto the burning sand, hardly winded.
And muttered to the astonished ones around him, “That was my grandson.”
___________
True story.
How about you? Ever save someone? Don’t be shy.
You just never know when and where the next tangle will happen. This is sad. But read it.
They’ve been finding entire underground cities that ancient historians once spoke of, complete with rivers and cathedrals, and they’ve not really been getting the word out until now. This amazing article will make you want to go there. It can make more sense of Hebrews 11:36-39, where the Bible tells us:
“Some faced jeers and flogging, while still others were chained and put in prison. They were stoned; they were sawed in two; they were put to death by the sword They went about in sheepskins and goatskins, destitute, persecuted, and mistreated–the world was not worthy of them. They wandered in deserts and mountains, and in caves and holes in the ground.”
Well, enjoy the link. It’s amazing to think of all the work these finds took to produce in the first place.
But I’d sure not want to live there, would you?
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