Friday, January 7, 2011

Life goes on without me

Research is fun. Writing is even more fun. But editing the final manuscript of this book is about as fun as cleaning house after a party is over.

However, by the grace of God, we're going to make it. I'm tremendously cheered this week by news from a few fronts indicating that barring something unforeseen like influenza hitting our house, we'll be turning in the manuscript on time! Only twenty more days or so and it should be out of my hands. In the mean time, here are two glimpses I caught of my family's life as I passed through on my way to my desk.

Joy and her daddy having some fun with counting bears before he put her to bed.

Mercy and Hope had earlier made a batch of "bear soup" in the basket. Joy found the basket on the couch and had a blast first, moving each bear from one side of the basket to the other, then pitching them one by one onto the floor.

Hope's apology.

The night before, Mercy came in from playing outside. She was in tears with scratches on her arms from, she said, accidentally slipping on the big snow hill (six or seven feet tall) in our cul-de-sac. The slide down the icy slope had pushed her jacket sleeves up and she was scraped by the icy snow. A little later, Mercy came back to me and ammended her story: It wasn't really a slip. Hope pushed her. Ever-quick to defend her best friend, Mercy added that she didn't think Hope was trying to hurt her. Rather, she thought Hope was having fun.

Hope came in shortly thereafter, pained at the natural consequence: her best friend was done playing outside. Mercy and I showed her the scrapes, trying to be non-judgemental because that pushes Hope into a corner. Hope volunteered that she was sorry Mercy had gotten hurt; she hadn't pushed her; Mercy had fun sliding. I just sighed. Hope is impulsive and sometimes that means people unintentionally get hurt, like when she gave Mercy a tackle-hug at the edge of a fish pond in Korea. (A story for another day.) But Hope can't help it and it is really hard to gauge how much she understands about her behaviors having consequences. So Mercy and I let it go.

But the next day, Hope brought me this picture she had drawn, a visual confession of sorts. Her own face is expressionless, which I'm choosing to interpret as being conflicted. Yes, Mercy is smiling, not scared. But this is Hope's point of view and Hope would have had a blast sliding down the snow mountain. Mostly, it is remarkable because it shows Hope actually reflected on it and concluded that she was an actor in the drama. Moreover, she felt the need to confess as much to me and to Hope. For her, that is huge. And it is hopeful. I'm so grateful God let me in on it.


dorothy said...

Go Carrie Go! You can get this thing done and then we can play.

Joan said...

I'll be excited to see the finished product!