That's "astEroid," my darlin'

Baa-aaa-hhh!

"I want to be the STAR!" - - - says Colleen, chirping.
"Watch OUT, Wise Man #3!" - - me, cracking up.

Silent.

Zygocrite

The house next door,
Aside my hedge.
Readied for more,
But not yet.

It's one thing to know a worldview is right; it's another to live it out.

It's one thing to have core values and convictions; it's a heroic feat to actually live up to them.

Truth will always be true, for everyone for all time. But we will always be, at our core, unfaithful, fallen and prone to compromise. Enough compromise becomes gradual corruption. That's what checks and balances are for. That's what confessionals are for.

That's what this blog is for.

I thought that's what Home-Ed was for, too. To instill "good" into our collective thinking. To ingrain it so securely and deeply that it would permeate the flesh as well as the heart and soul. My family will tell you I fell way short my ideals.  I've learned through our many talks and tangos that my techniques were, and are, sorely flawed; my aspirations a bit more lofty than my skill set allowed.

For starters, learning the depth of God's love for me is a lesson still just out of reach. Secondly, performing good works with the tenacity to make them sync into my character hasn't yet brought me much depth.  The Spirit-Authenticity of love and good works are bold realities that have yet to securly lodge within my soul; so, good luck trying to teach them to someone else.

Exhibit A:
As soon as OnlySon turned 19 or so (a college junior who's dormed at home), the fights we'd "enjoyed" for more than a decade over daily chores and keeping his bed made, evaporated as if merely a ghostlike bad dream.  It was no longer my job to stick it to him. If he hadn't picked up selflessness by now and willingly submitted to Christ as his Lord and Saviour, nothing I said or did was going to fix that, so all issues were officially 'off the table.'

And then I stopped caring about making my bed.

8:01AM Nov. 21, 2011

Sad truth. I am a hypocrite.

Exhibit B:
How I realized this sad fact only mildly involves unmade beds. It hit me hard when I discovered the property next door was purchased by a foundation for housing the handicapped. It was being transformed --retrofitted-- into an assisted living community for adults with Cerebral Palsy. When I met one of the caretakers, I was less than kind.

As per my usual run-at-the-mouth temperament, I told her I was ticked that our house values were low enough already without adding this new development to the mix; and I explained how our prayers for her house had always revolved around a hope that the next occupants might lead a Bible Study in the amply sized living room.

Then I started to cry.  I realized what a flaming contradiction I am.

Oh Great.

So much for my Pro-Life Christian "witness." I had outed myself as Pro-Life only to a point, and Cerebral Palsy folks who can't lead Bible Studies don't make the cut...

... I outed myself as a hypocrite.



I tried to regroup. I asked her to go back to her foundation and see about getting some nice quadriplegic residents with a penchant for theology. Or some drug addicts and maybe an alcoholic or two.

The poor lady. She just stared at me. Smiling nearly.

No wonder Hubby thought we needed to read this
(moldering on bedstand)

I'll bet she's a Christian. A real one.

Little AmZyg, you have such a long way to go.

Editors note: two years later, after crying constantly from depressing sounds emanating from over that wall, found a counselor who recommended we pack it in. Get out. Leave. So, we rented th house out to a youth pastor and his young family, headed north. Then, in my personal opinion, the entire neighborhood ...collapsed. This young pastor and his family were never going to pick up where we left off. Never attended the annual Christmas Brunch begun 15yrs earlier. This shocked me. Barely got to know any of th neighbors. I thought pastors were s'posed to be people persons. Hrumph. Even more shocking, the place went all to weeds. Oh, my poor heart.