We Are Going Under Cover

We got a creepy phone call from a creepy person that we have known for way too long, today. It reminded me that we know a creepy person who might "discover" this blog. (If you type all of our names into Google we come out as the first six sites listed. This kind of scared me as the creepy person knows all seven of our names.)

For this reason, we are going under cover. I thought about just using initials or weird nicknames like Aragorn and the Terminator but that would make story telling less fluid. So we will have aliases. I will be Kate. Oh wait, I am Kate. I will still be Kate. I will be married to Stuart. My children will be John, Lauren, Faith, Claire and Charlie...in that order. The kids had a great time choosing what they would like their names to be. Hope this doesn't throw you for too much of a loop. And yes, this means deleting a portion of the post about our names. This is sad because it is one of my favorites.

Comments

Prairie Rose said…

Undercover seems to be the best route when blogging, for sure... I wouldn't feel comfortable sharing anything if I thought someone I knew but didn't "allow" had stumbled across it, figured out who I was, and was reading everything I wrote... there are creepy people everywhere!!

Thanks for commenting at my blog... I wanted to respond but there's no email on your profile and I didn't figure you'd check back at my blog to see I had responded to your comment in my comments -- so here I am, letting you know that I've replied to your comment on my page. :)

Nice to meet you.

June 19, 2007 at 8:25 AM

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Why share such a personal story ? I share it because I have talked to enough women to know that underneath the makeup and the matching outfits and the small talk that make up our exteriors, we are a broken people. To pretend otherwise creates isolation. Thoughtful honesty creates closer relationships and greater understanding. When we share the way God works in the difficult things of life it encourages first oneself and then others. For some of us, the pieces have been patched and restored and there is wholeness where there was none before. But some of us are walking wounded, barely hanging on and wondering if there is hope. We have a choice. We can either be completely shattered by bitterness, depression and anger or we can lay the fragments before the One who can take the sharp slivers and jagged pieces and create a beautiful, productive life. Here is the conclusion to John's story. When John was ten, he was sullen and moody and difficult and so was I. But I was no longer proud.

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We're slow starters in the morning. The children lie on the sofas and read. Charlie sits and eats a graham cracker and a bowl of yogurt at the table before breakfast. Lauren and I take turn cooking oatmeal, or muffins, or scones... We eat somewhere between ten and eleven. Today, in the midst of all this leisure, the house became exceptionally quiet and I went to figure out why because "too quiet" is never a good thing. Except that it was today. I peeked out the living room window into the backyard and found five chairs and five children lined up on the patio. I opened the door and everybody shushed me. "Hush, Mama. We're watching the birds. Come sit with us" Six or seven hummingbirds were zipping around the feeder, frantic to fill their little gas tanks before they migrate. The children were silent, heads tipped up, eyes squinting against the morning light. I went in to get the camera. I took a few pictures of the children but could not capture the hyperacti

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