Have a Little Faith

Twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38 when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate. Their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air. They could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there. They were filled with such joy; they didn't know what to say. They remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day. “where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse. “This is heaven" declared a small boy. "We’re spending Christmas at God's house”. When what to their wondering eyes did appear, but Jesus, their savior, the children gathered near. He looked at them and smiled, and they smiled just the same. Then He opened His arms and He called them by name. And in that moment was joy, that only heaven can bring those children all flew into the arms of their King and as they lingered in the warmth of His embrace, one small girl turned and looked at Jesus' face. And as if He could read all the questions she had He gently whispered to her, "I'll take care of mom and dad. “then He looked down on earth, the world far below He saw all of the hurt, the sorrow, and woe, then He closed His eyes and He outstretched His hand, “Let My power and presence re-enter this land! “May this country be delivered from the hands of fools” “I’m taking back my nation. I'm taking back my schools! “Then He and the children stood up without a sound. “Come now my children let me show you around. “Excitement filled the space, some skipped and some ran. All displaying enthusiasm that only a small child can. And I heard Him proclaim as He walked out of sight, “in the midst of this darkness,” I AM STILL THE LIGHT."

~Author unknown

I was raised a Christian. I think that is what got me through the darkest times in my young life. But, in my adult years I have found myself, not straying from Christianity, but being less involved and apparently developing a skewed sense of what being a Christian means. After my sister passed away I found myself praying to God to bring her back, praying that I'd get to see her again, praying that she'd come see me, even in the afterlife. I was praying for all the wrong things. It dawned on me that I was wishing, and not praying...there's a big difference. 

As I watched the news last week after the Clackamas Town Center shooting I felt so bad for not only the victims of the gunshots, but the victims who witnessed these things, and experienced such emotional trauma. My heart ached for the people whose lives were lost, but I found my tears flowing faster at the exhaustive descriptions that were being given in interviews by the people who survived the shootings. It was then that I realized that I had no idea what I was supposed to pray for. For the survivors? Sure. For the ones who died? Of course. For the shooter? I didn't know. 

And, then, just 3 days after the mall shooting, as if the emotional toll couldn't get worse, we hear of one of the most devastating massacres in US history. A gunman forced his way into a rural elementary school with the intent of committing a crime unlike anyone could imagine - He shot 20 beautiful young children, and 8 adults, including his own mother. WHY?!! Why would someone allow such a thing to happen? How could he do this? WHY did God allow this to happen??? What could make someone so angry or upset that he would go out of his way to enter the school to do this to so many people? I cried. And I cried and cried and cried. Those beautiful young children and those brave teachers gone in an instant at the hands of a mad man...or child, depending on your opinion. 

In times like these I question what I am supposed to do, and what is real. I question the purpose of our lives and the meaning behind religion. What do I pray for if things like these can't be prevented? Why should I pray if nothing changes and losses are so great that we can't find purpose to live? I honestly asked myself these questions last Friday, and I was surprised to find that I was answering my own question without even thinking about it. 

Since the school massacre, I've been praying...almost non-stop. I pray every time my children walk out the door. I pray every time my husband leaves the house. I pray at night. I pray during the day. It's not that I'm putting an extra effort in to praying. I just am. I catch myself saying a prayer that God keeps them safe during the day. I pray that he gives them courage to do what's best should they be subject to such cruelty. I pray that the teachers and the school staff are never put in a position as the teachers at Sandy Hook Elementary were. I pray that God finds a way to help these ill minded souls so that there isn't another attempt at making the history books. I pray for the madness to stop. I can't express enough how much i dislike having to worry about my children going to school, or to the mall or to the movies. It's awful that we adults have to bear such a burden of worry. It's not fair that we've had to develop this sense of fear for wherever our children are and whatever they're doing and with whom. Nothing's changed, yet, everything's changed. 

Tomorrow, according to the Mayan calendar, is suppose to be the end of the world as we know it. I don't believe it. But, there are many that do. I think that may have something to do with the recent ill fated events in our country. 

So, to answer my own questions: I don't know why people do such things. I don't know why people don't get the help they need to fight off the demons in their mind. I don't know why horrors like this happen. But I do know now that, no matter what happens, a little faith can heal the wounds, and a little prayer never hurt anyone. So, I pray.........

Five Golden Rings

First of all, I obviously have been busy up the wazoo....my last post was October 24th. However, I have sat down and began this blog so many times that I had to empty my drafts page because there were too many entries. Haha. 

So, a few months ago I smelled what seemed like urine in the main bathroom. This IS the bathroom that all the kids use, as well as all the guests that come in our home. I figured it was safe for me assume that my kids had peed all over everything and I missed a spot or two. So, after a deep scrub down of the floors and the toilet itself I left the bathroom believing that the smell was gone. I went back in after a while and found the smell still lingering in the air. O-kaaaay.
I deep cleaned the tub and sink thinking MAYBE that awful smell could be coming from that. (Not sure why I thought that, but I did.) Nope, not it. Alrighty, then. I began my online hunt for sources of stinky smells in the bathroom. The list was endless. But, the one thing that kept repeating was the possibility of a toilet wax ring needing to be replaced. (That, and blaming women for trying to do something that only men should do. HA!) Corey had just replaced this some weeks before the smell began, so I thought (double haha) that maybe it had been installed incorrectly and just needed a replacement. I looked up how to do it myself, because, it was now July and my husband was full force in the harvest season. I wasn't going to bother him with something as petty as the replacement of a wax ring. I did it myself. It took hours, and it was gross. But, it made sense - The smell, that is. It made sense that the smell was probably coming from a leak in the wax seal and that all it needed was a little replacement. The next day, the bathroom smelled again. Well, shit. Hard headed as I am, I just figured that since it was my first time replacing such a thing that I did it wrong. I went and bought another ring and spent another day doing what I now think is one of the worst jobs ever. The next day that damn bathroom still smelled. Seriously? Could I have really done this wrong TWICE? I told Corey about the smell and he said he couldn't smell anything. Since Katie backed him up and said she smelled nothing, too, I honest to God began to question my sense of smell, and my sanity. A few months back I swore (still do) that I smelled something coming from a vent in our house that had to have been a dead animal, like a mouse. They both smelled nothing then, too. Anyways. because they were so certain that there was no smell, I quit worrying and went about my business. I left it that way for a few more weeks. Still, I smelled it. No matter how often, how deep or how hard that bathroom was cleaned, that smell WAS there. At this point we had reached the middle of October.  Because nobody would believe me, I decided to take that toilet up and inspect it myself. What was causing such a horrible smell?? I found nothing, once again, so I replaced the wax ring again, in hopes that, despite it not working for the past three times, it would work this time. It didn't. This time I actually hurt my elbow, and I felt something happen in my arm as I pulled the toilet up. In pain and frustrated that it wasn't working for me, I couldn't take it anymore, so I decided to raise a ruckus about it. After dragging my husband and daughter in and forcing them to smell every inch of that bathroom to smell what I could smell, they finally said it. "I smell it!!" I think I nearly collapsed from the exhaustion of just trying to get them to believe me! Anyways, it was decided that because it had been 8 years, it was likely that the septic tank needed to be pumped. So, I got someone out here to pump it. I got momentarily excited that the smell would be gone, but, the following day it was still there. Shaking my head in such disappointment at this point, unsure of what to do next, Corey decided to replace the pipes because, the likelihood of a small pipe leak seemed more prevalent now. There were no leaks under the house and the floor seemed to be fine because it didn't seem smooshy. Two days before we were set to head out of town for a few days, Corey began detaching the pipes, doing whatever it took to unglue the pipes that were glued together to prepare for the installation of new pipes. Seemed easy enough, right? Nothing is ever that easy with us.EVER! The pipes were so off the wall extraordinary that he couldn't do it. So, he called a plumber. Unfortunately, the plumber couldn't come until we got back - So while we were gone grandma and the four kids had to share one bathroom. That wasn't good. We returned from our trip and began working immediately to fix that sucker. The plumber came out to inspect it, and we discovered that the sub floor under the linoleum was actually quite water damaged, and if we didn't replace it we might find ourselves sitting on the toilet under the house. Corey tore up it all up and replaced the sub floor. In preparation to put the new flooring on top, we called the plumber to come back and replace that pipe. We thought things couldn't get any worse. We were wrong! Upon arriving, the plumber proceeded to tell us that he couldn't see under the house before and that the pipe that had been installed when we first put our house in was so WRONG that he couldn't fix it. He'd actually have to "Frankenstein" some new pipes together to make them work. This required another visit another day. FOR. SHITS. SAKE!!! He finally returned, got a new pipe in and Corey got that new flooring on. It was beautiful! But, but, but?!?! Yeah, that smell was STILL there. I was on the verge of completely gutting that thing or burning and rebuilding. But, out of desperation Corey and I smelled everywhere in that bathroom, including the wall behind the toilet. It was THERE!! There...we found the source. Apparently (duh) matte finish paint in the bathroom is not good, because if your potty training little boy misses the pot and splashes on the wall, even if you clean it it's already so absorbed into that wall that it will only become bad when, years down the road, the smell begins to release into the air and a crazy, sensitive nosed wife hunts desperately to find the answers. It was now the end of November, and we were so tired of that bathroom. Corey put up an antibacterial primer and, Voila! The smell was gone.. Right? Well, almost. We've primed, repainted, replaced moulding, and scrubbed ever inch of that bathroom. The smell is mostly gone - There's just enough now to mess with us. It's like that bathroom's saying "Yeah, you can't get it all! I'm still here, suckas!!" New flooring, no leaks, scrubbed toilet, disinfected and painted walls......thank goodness for super smelly candles!! lol And, little boys who are no longer potty training in my house!!

Whatever it is, I'm done with it. It's hardly noticeable, but, Corey and I were face first in it for so long, we smell it even in it's minuscule amounts. And, in light of the holiday season, I realized that we replaced that golden ring 5 times since July.

On the twelfth day of Christmas my true love gave to me;
12 wasted washcloths
11 days of labor
10 ruined bath towels
9 feet of new pipe
8 feet of flooring
7 new flange screws
6 smelly candles
5 golden wax rings
4 new strips of seal
3 caulk tubes
2 cans of paint
And a bathroom that's usable now!!