by Benjamin Cornelius
Today, the Sunday before Good Friday, the last Sunday of Lent. The last look inward before all is lost and all is gained even more. Today, in this deep search inward, we dedicated our children. In the midst of this incredible community of misfits we stood with our family and promised to raise our children in love and grace. None of this is easy. None of this is what I expected. All of this is what I needed.
When we stepped into parenthood, I thought I knew it would be hard. I somehow did not expect it to be so entirely overwhelming. In the good, and the difficult it is constant turning, constant choosing love constantly asking for forgiveness. We didn't really step into this, did we? We jumped in. We dove head first into all the parenting and then we got twins. Beautiful, loving, quirky twins that take all the time and energy and are two stinking babies at one time. Add this to our intensely passionate little woman cub and all the nephews and we went from zero to outnumbered in more children than anniversaries.
How do I stay centered in this while diving head first in my pursuit losing god? Or at least the what I thought was god? Or how do I choose to dedicate a baby to god when I can't describe what that is to me, let alone what that is for someone else. So again I turn. I enter into love. I choose to call all good and choose to tell my children about a power and force that is not only out there moving mysteriously through all, but deep within them that moves and turns and shifts fear and darkness into bravery and kindness. I choose to surround my children with voices that will speak prophetically into the truth of who they are and guard against those who would tear them down as they form into who they have always been.
Through all of the bumps and scrapes and tears and me losing my temper and me saying the wrong things and cussing too much and being terrified of parking lots, I will do this. I will raise these children. In a world of borders and boundaries, and republicans and democrats, guns and bombs and money and pain and pain and so much pain.... in a world where children shouldn't survive I will raise these kids. I don't know how to do it right, but I am learning what it means to do it in love. I'm grateful for those around us. Thankful for our church. Amazed at our friends. You are what keep us in a place of knowing this is all possible.