October 05, 2015
My daughter fell yesterday.(We are quite the family of fumbling fools, aren't we??)
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My side of the family is a bit of a mix-max-mosey (as my Grandma Johnson would say) when it comes to religion. My father is an Agnostic, believing that everyone has their right to believe what they want to believe (his parents couldn't decide on which religion to follow and thus didn't go to church), my mother is a member of the Lutheran church (I was the first kiddo baptized there) and attends semi-regularly, my brother's family attends church and the kiddos attend parochial school.
My husband's side of the family are adamant Lutherans and regular church-goers.
I, myself, have no idea what's going on. I went to Catechism but quit associations with church when my pastor related the fact that my father would not go to Heaven based on his beliefs. I really think my father is more against organized religion than he is actually against anything and that's rather the way I have rolled. For, who is right and who is wrong? Christianity is not the oldest religion or the most wide-spread. Scientologists are delusional and then when I look at all the other forms of religion out there, I can only muster confusion out of their definitions and my perception. Mormons, Catholics, Jehovah's Witnesses...
I am entirely too FOR all things love to be against homosexuality. I am entirely too FOR choices among people and entirely too AGAINST missionaries based on my ethnic studies in school.
I also don't like to argue any of my view points or opinions because I still do not believe others are wrong. I just don't know how one can pin down what is actually RIGHT and what is NOT.
If there are other good people out there who are not confined to one set of beliefs and therefore not allowed into the gates of Heaven, considering the myriad of choices at hand, I can hardly state I am one way or the other. For now.
This does not mean I am not open to teachings of God, any God, or that I am not open to changing my mind. My family says a prayer before dinner, we attend church at times and we relate to our daughter that Grandpa M is in Heaven.
So we decided to go to church yesterday.
And it was good until it wasn't.
We went to a big church with a rock band that almost instantly made me cry for I felt loved, accepted and embraced. I thought first of my uncle Dave going through chemo for his terminal cancer and how I wanted all these people to hope and pray for him and his family. I thought of my father and how he fell the other day and how I wanted to pray for his safety. I thought of my daughter and brother-in-law and I wanted the words spoken to somehow speak more clearly to them than anyone else. I thought of the assault in Oregon and wanted all the people involved to know they are loved, accepted and embraced.
I don't know if I believe in God, but I do believe in his messages of love, acceptance and reconciliation.
In the midst of all of this, my daughter was drawing on a pad of paper, high up in the church, and being such a good little girl when suddenly she fell forward and knocked her top front teeth on the pew in front of her.
Blood.
The tooth clearly pushed back in her mouth.
Tears but not loud screams.
I dashed out of the church without looking behind me but knowing that my husband had her safe in his arms and was close at my heels.
Our hospital a mere ten minutes away.
The ER was wonderful there as usual. Our dentist was NOT wonderful. We were recommended to Children's hospital and spend six hours waiting for them to eventually just administer nasal phentenol, push the tooth forward, administer a popsicle and send us on our way.
She was the bravest three-year-old I've ever seen. Hardly a set of tears, barely a whine or a whimper. I am certain our fear outweighed her own.
For now the tooth is in tact but may fall out.
For now we are paranoid about her safety.
"Do I have to go to Church again?" she asked us.
I laughed.
Last time she went to church, she came home with a fever.
So this is what we get.
But in all fairness, it was just an accident. One that drained us of our life force, one that brought us to our knees with worry, one that reminded us just how precious our little life is. She is our heart and soul, our temper and our angst, our joy and our worry. She is our world.
No doubt about it.