Okay, just one more Honduras inspired social justice post...
Well friends, we're halfway through July. It's hard to believe, but we'll be back to our school schedule in a few short weeks. After a busier summer than usual, we've gotten into the home stretch. I have very little scheduled in the next few weeks so we'll be making good use of those waterpark passes we bought this spring and hopefully take a few trips to the beach. I'll continue to do some deep cleaning in our house because Lord knows it's not going to happen once school really gets going. I mean, I'm going to try, but once I get into the homeschool doldrums, things like mopping get pushed deep off my radar.
Can you get ahead on mopping? Like, if I mop every day for the next few weeks, will that cover all the weeks in the school year I won't mop? If someone asked me about my mopping habits, I could say on average I mop about once a week. That's a summer of mopping followed by a school year of minimal mopping. Maybe I shouldn't tell you how much I don't care about mopping. Maybe I should make my kids do it more. We spot clean. It's good enough. We don't have pets and try not to wear shoes in the house. It will be fine.
And now that I've scared half of you into never visiting my house, let me try to hash out a few more Honduras thoughts. First, I don't really have a good short answer for the "How was Honduras?" question. When people have asked me how our trip was, I've settled on "It was really good. It was a lot to take in." That's really all most people want to hear anyway which is fine. I don't want a three point exposition on most people's trips myself. When people have pushed me for more details, it gets a little murkier. Generally, I've gotten the impression that I'm supposed to be angry at the poverty like all good social justice warriors should be.
But I'm not angry. I've already been angry and struggled over the disparity between my life here and the life I know most women lead. And I mean it when I say struggled with the issue. There is nothing fair about the fact that I was born into the circumstances I was born into. Did I make choices that helped put me at my kitchen table this afternoon where I can comfortably sit and write for an hour while my kids play Madden 2017? Sure. But my choices had much less to do with it that I'd love to claim. Most of it is how God laid out my life. I didn't choose my family, my country, my race, my talents, my gifts.
I wish everyone could have what I have. I wish every woman could feel safe going to the store or walking her neighborhood at night. I wish everyone had a home with clean water. I wish everyone had the luxury of time to do more than cook, clean, and survive another year. I've felt the anger, but the anger is not enough. Now I get to figure out how to live well where God put me; to find a way to provide for the needs of my brothers and sisters. Some of those fellow Jesus followers live in my neighborhood and some live in Honduras. I have much which means I have much to give.
Basically, I'm not angry about it. Anger doesn't inspire me to help. It feels good, but it doesn't lead to much good. Anyway, that concludes my abstract Honduras thoughts. And that's about it. We're cleaning and enjoying our last few weeks of no school before we begin 11th grade, 7th grade, and 3rd grade in the Dumont house. Until next time...
Can you get ahead on mopping? Like, if I mop every day for the next few weeks, will that cover all the weeks in the school year I won't mop? If someone asked me about my mopping habits, I could say on average I mop about once a week. That's a summer of mopping followed by a school year of minimal mopping. Maybe I shouldn't tell you how much I don't care about mopping. Maybe I should make my kids do it more. We spot clean. It's good enough. We don't have pets and try not to wear shoes in the house. It will be fine.
And now that I've scared half of you into never visiting my house, let me try to hash out a few more Honduras thoughts. First, I don't really have a good short answer for the "How was Honduras?" question. When people have asked me how our trip was, I've settled on "It was really good. It was a lot to take in." That's really all most people want to hear anyway which is fine. I don't want a three point exposition on most people's trips myself. When people have pushed me for more details, it gets a little murkier. Generally, I've gotten the impression that I'm supposed to be angry at the poverty like all good social justice warriors should be.
But I'm not angry. I've already been angry and struggled over the disparity between my life here and the life I know most women lead. And I mean it when I say struggled with the issue. There is nothing fair about the fact that I was born into the circumstances I was born into. Did I make choices that helped put me at my kitchen table this afternoon where I can comfortably sit and write for an hour while my kids play Madden 2017? Sure. But my choices had much less to do with it that I'd love to claim. Most of it is how God laid out my life. I didn't choose my family, my country, my race, my talents, my gifts.
I wish everyone could have what I have. I wish every woman could feel safe going to the store or walking her neighborhood at night. I wish everyone had a home with clean water. I wish everyone had the luxury of time to do more than cook, clean, and survive another year. I've felt the anger, but the anger is not enough. Now I get to figure out how to live well where God put me; to find a way to provide for the needs of my brothers and sisters. Some of those fellow Jesus followers live in my neighborhood and some live in Honduras. I have much which means I have much to give.
Basically, I'm not angry about it. Anger doesn't inspire me to help. It feels good, but it doesn't lead to much good. Anyway, that concludes my abstract Honduras thoughts. And that's about it. We're cleaning and enjoying our last few weeks of no school before we begin 11th grade, 7th grade, and 3rd grade in the Dumont house. Until next time...
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