raising a man and the meaning of life…

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I had a TERRIBLE  dream last night.  Definitely the worst nightmare I’ve ever had.

I woke up with–well, basically a fever.  I was sweating, my heart was racing, and I was so terrified that I would dream it again that I refused to go back to sleep.

I went out to the couch and turned on the T.V.–thinking that I just needed to get my mind off of those horrid images somehow–and immediately saw more darkness, sadness, hopelessness.  Only intensifying the sickness I felt in my soul.

(Probably goes without saying that my nightmare was about my kids)

My next thought was the internet, my homepage is Facebook, so as soon as I opened the screen I saw more hatred.  Someone wrote a post, detailing their hate of a fellow Facebook user–hating them for things I would probably do myself.

I just felt vile.  I have never felt that horrid before, at least not in recent memory.

I did my best to think about something positive, praying that God would help me forget the terror of my dream–or the darkness in my heart–but I eventually gave up and started my day.

(I should mention that I went to the living-room at 12:30 a.m. and abandoned all hope of sleep at 5.  That’s over 4 hours wrestling with this horrendous heartache.)

I waited and waited for someone to wake up so that I wouldn’t feel so alone, and FINALLY my son stumbled out of his room, sleepy eyed and adorable.

I told him I needed a hug because I had dreamt that he was hurt.

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He kept trying to get more information out of me and I just kept repeating, “You were hurt, that’s all, you were just hurt”

He leaned back and said,

“Mom, I’m becoming a man, I can get hurt. It’s ok.  Yesterday I hurt my knee at gymnastics and I didn’t even cry.”

There’s no better medicine for a desperate-soul then the presence of true-innocents.

He spent the next hour building every member of our family a Lego airplane.  Complete with garages:

This is the most tangible way for Cyclone to show me love.  Building me something to play with, sharing his favorite toys with me, it’s the most innocent, purest form of kindness and love–and it was EXACTLY what I needed.

He is growing up so fast–displaying so much tenderness at such a young age.  He is a true boy, but he doesn’t hesitate to hug me when he senses my need.  I couldn’t be more proud.

he has no shortage of goofiness either:

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Sometimes it feels like the darkness in this world is winning.–one more school shooting, one more person spewing hatred, one more senseless death–and I start to wonder what it’s all about.

Asking the meaning of life to a Christian woman is tricky.  I definitely don’t believe that all we are here for is to try and get to heaven–whether there is a heaven or not, I would still follow the teachings of Jesus, because they simply are right.

So, then what?  Why are we here?

I don’t have all the answers, (sorry to disappoint) but one thing I do believe is that it is my job to make the world a more loving, kind, and beautiful place–everyday.

And not just for my kids, or my family, but for anyone’s life that I might touch.

That’s something that I LOVE about social media.  That the joy and beauty of this world can reach so much further then it used to. (Videos of soldiers surprising their families, pictures of children and puppies, miracles caught on film)

The downside is that the hatred and evil spread just as fast.

So, what do we do about that? Do we delete everyone who disagrees with us? Do we give up all together, move to the wilderness and go off the grid?

I don’t think so.

I think we power through.  We continue to share the beauty, we continue to focus on love, we continue to strive to be kind.

That is my biggest prayer for my kids.  Not that they will be the smartest, or the strongest, or the most successful.  But that they will be kind.

Dear Lord, teach them to be kind.

I believe nothing pleases our Father more then to see his children love–not tolerate, that’s not the same thing–but genuinely LOVE one another.

I will focus on that today.  Not on the evil that I see around me, but the love.

Love, love, love.

. . . and legos.

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Which are sometimes the same thing.

About trinakhobbs

http://instagram.com/frijolehobbs
This entry was posted in Children, Parenting woes, saving the world and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to raising a man and the meaning of life…

  1. Betsy Boyles says:

    wow. this is just beautiful Trina. thank you. you are definitely doing your part to brighten the shadows ❤

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