Providentially, the baby girl calls with a laughable parallel. Heaven was laughing with us. I couldn't read it as we were going, I just saw CS and JRR laughing at me trying to figure out the unfigurable in LOR. Baby said, "Mommy, I took my first book out of the library." My mind was racing to defend myself. Doesn't she remember the Spot books and the enormous amount of time we spent at the library? I didn't dare let my mouth defend my one clear conscience spot of my mothering. What did you take out? I garbled in my shame. "The Screwtape Letters", was her excited response. I saw Heaven's humor at this irony. Mommy reader and daughter reader had met in the middle. I was learning to watch a movie of an unread book, which I try never to do and had chalked up to something I would learn to do in eternity. I was surpassing my confessed and accepted limitation to try to digest the Tolkien, Lewis heady style that I had poo-pooed away from myself and so was she.
To prevent my sickness and hers, I would take more time correcting her handwriting, which I think is a sensory disfunction, that needs to be corrected. I would make her read to me more, whatever the subject and whatever that means. I think the two are related; the reading deficiency and the writing malfunction. I would take the dirty blocks out of her mouth and keep her from the sicknesses. I much prefer God's way. He lets them explore and get sick and get better and holds mommy's hand while she cries. He understands our pain on both sides and our need to defend our decisions and our shame at our clear errors. They are ever before us and that is why we have a Savior to heal our, ever heaping shame. That is Elyven.
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