Well, here it is a month after our last update..not as timely as I hope one day to be, but notice that I have moved from yearly, to quarterly, to monthly posts. I call that progress!
We had a delightful visit with the Painter family in September. For a complete description of this happy time, please see Sarah's blog, "Life At the Painters". It even has pictures! (Something you are never likely to see here as long as I am the one posting.) Jamey and I feel so blessed to have friends who are willing to drive 14 grueling hours through the mountains with three small children, knowing that once they arrive they will be exposed to strange northern illnesses, fed strange food, forced to play endless games of bocce ball, and made to stay up way past their bedtimes talking politics and religion. We hope they come again soon!
Now for a quick synopsis of our day at the zoo. The children and I met our homeschool co-op at the local zoo today for a field trip which sounded very good on paper. The reality could be compared to what farmers call a "controlled burn". (For you non-agricultural types, that's when you light a field of dry grass on fire and then frantically run around beating it out with shovels before it burns your neighbor's barn down. You just call it "controlled" to make yourself feel better.)
I never appreciate Jamey more than when I get to take our precious children out by myself. The girls are normally model citizens on field trips, and today was no exception. But I am still trying to figure out when little boys gain that beautiful mixture of common sense and serenity so commonly found in the female species.
At this point I have one son who reacts to everything by screaming and crawling up my neck, one son who is not afraid of anything (i.e. "Look Mom! I'm in the lion cage!"), and one son who spends a good deal of his life on his own special planet (as in, "Excuse me, ma'am. Is that your child wandering around in the parking lot?") I think the children may have seen some animals today, but I spent most of my time pulling Isaiah off of fences, prying Jude off my legs, and rescuing Elijah every time he accidentally walked off with another family.
In retrospect, there were some memorable moments. Rebekah and Christina got to watch a rattlesnake swallow an enormous white rat. Whole. I really admire their scientific interest in the natural world. They were pointing out retractable fangs and jaw flexion while I was looking at the rat and thinking, "Poor thing. Look at its little pink feet."
I had never been to the reptile house during feeding time before, and I was struck by the fact that the zoo workers spoke of the snakes and lizards and gators with such warmth and affection--passionately answering questions about their proper care and habitat--all the while chucking out great handfuls of unlucky rodents.
Apparently mice are
way below reptiles on the "animals we need to care about" list. And then I started thinking about the dilemma that certain animal rights activists must face every day. What do you do with animals who insist on eating one another? At least humans can be converted to vegetarianism. (Try reasoning with a crocodile or a slavering hyena.)
And if it is "natural" for animals to eat each another, on what basis can it be wrong for humans to eat animals? For that matter if the highest religion is nature, on what basis can it be wrong for us to eat each other?
This is where I am so glad to have a faith to stand on, because really, if we humans were not created in the image of God and given worth by Jesus' sacrificial love for us, there would be no more need to mourn the death of a person than there is to mourn the death of a moth or a mouse. What a blessing to be placed in such a position of privilege and responsibility on this planet--to be given stewardship over nature, the care of our fellow man, and the ability to consider the
meaning of life and death.
I have no quarrel with vegetarians. I think that as Christians we
should be thoughtful consumers, but since the Bible records that after the flood, mankind was given permission to eat meat as well as green plants, I do so with a clear conscience. I also think that God has a way of infusing spiritual meaning into our daily living, and I believe we should look for those lessons in every act.
Is it possible that as we take the life of something in order to sustain our own, we should pause to consider the necessity of God's sacrifice for us? Americans are so insulated from the realities of
any form of sacrifice that it is no wonder that many of us are so spiritually flabby. Maybe the daily realization that our hamburger came from a once-living creature instead of from a Kroger meat-counter would do us good. Maybe it would also make us long for the day when death will no longer be an ugly reality of the sinful world we live in.
That's just the kind of stuff that goes through my head at the zoo. And why I am always
so much fun on field trips:)
Other highlights of the trip included some adorable black-footed cats from South America, a hilarious pair of penguins, and a cougar who stared at us with piercing malevolence . Then there was the time when we accidentally left Christina in the snake house (she found us eventually), and the time I caught Jude chewing up something he picked up near the girls bathroom. The boys would also want me to mention the rude monkeys since that was their favorite exhibit, and the one they talked about all night, but I refuse to say any more about that particular experience.
In short, I got out of the van with five children, and three hours later, I got back in the van with five children. So from that standpoint, it was a successful field trip. Really, any day that ends with happy exhaustion, relief, a little pride, lots to talk about, and a renewed appreciation for the role your spouse plays in the survival of your children, can be considered a day well spent.
And so it was.
