Lions and babies and ice cream, oh my!

Anybody else needing some ice cream about now?

The other day, the kids found the ice-maker my grandma had given us a while back. It had gotten as close to the kitchen as a shelf in the garage. As much as I love home-made ice cream, I also know how much work goes into it. So the machine had not seen the light of day. And sitting there in the garage, it sort of got forgotten about.

I’m glad the kids found it. I’m glad they begged me to go to the store to get some rock salt and ice and instant coffee so they could make homemade coffee ice cream. And even though I was not happy about how late they started their project, and how, when I came home from Adoration after midnight, they were still up, the machine whirring away in the back ground, and I was so tired and really wanted them to go to bed immediately…it was a nice treat the next morning after lunch.

We sprinkled our ice cream with hot fudge and M&Ms and it was so very good! It was big project, but with our 15-year-old leading the way, and her little brothers there for reinforcement, they did it pretty much all by themselves, with just a few check-ins to ask about direction specifics. I am proud of them for sticking it out to the sweet and creamy end.

I really needed that ice cream. I know food can’t mend a broken heart. But it was a start. This week, my heart has been broken, and my mind can’t stop from swirling.

Cecil the lion is dead and that’s sad. The guy who killed him, originally from here in North Dakota, is not on my list of favorite people, but I don’t think he deserves the death threat, either. He was misguided. He was living a life of excess, perhaps, chasing after empty pleasures that have angered many. I don’t applaud his actions. The money he used to hunt big game could have been used for so many better purposes. But neither do I applaud the viciousness of the outrage.

Matt Walsh did a good job this week of articulating some of my deeper thoughts on the timing of Cecil’s death and the latest Planned Parenthood scandal that has come about due to a series of undercover videos showing the sinister interior of that business.

I am not calling all the people who work there sinister, but there is something dark lurking within. Many of us have known it based on accounts of former workers and testimonies, and yet even for us, this inside glimpse has been chilling, and hard to properly absorb.

The culture of death is very much alive in our culture. Everywhere we look, we are seeing death as an acceptable answer. And on some level, as human beings, we are outraged, though for some, the animals are what do it, and others, it’s the human beings that get us worked up. Deep down we know death will only bring about one thing: death. There’s nothing redeeming from death as an answer to any problem, except a cessation of life.

In the confusion of it all, we’ve taken sides, and made the “other” side out to be monsters. For example, this is what Planned Parenthood’s public relations company has said of those who are horrified over the disregard for human life we’ve witnessed in recent days:

“Planned Parenthood is a longtime client, and we are proud to help them push back against these extremist attacks from people who want to end reproductive health care for women in this country.” – a SKDKnickerbocker spokesman

So because I am against abortion, I am an extremist wanting to end reproductive health for women. Words are everything, and public relations firms specialize in the right spin. It’s not about what’s right or wrong but what sounds best to the ear.

Anyway, I won’t go into all of the graphic ugliness of it all. But I’m hoping you’ll help me out. Those of us who are sensitive to the taking of innocent life, we need to buoy each other up right now. I need you. And I’m hoping you might send me a little lifeline, even as I toss one out to you.

After I spent a good five solid minutes crying my heart out upon watching video #4, and reading and hearing the final words, “Another boy,” as visuals of my five living children and our miscarried child, Gabriel, gripped me, I forced myself to stop. I knew that God would not want me despairing. I shook myself out of my deep sad and began to plead with our good God: “God, what is it that you want us to do now? Please help me understand.”

I know God doesn’t want us to hate each other more, or to sit too long in anger. The God of life would not want us to wallow in the darkness too long. Yes, we had to see. We had to be faced with reality. Without the light coming into it, all those babies who have been discarded might have been forgotten by many.

We need to call them to mind, no matter how hard. But I also think we need to protect ourselves a little. Not stick our heads in the sand, but tread carefully. We need to stay very close to the Lord, and the saints who have lived through equally troubling times and yet still carved out of path of light for the rest of us. We need to love each other and remember that we are not each others’ enemies. The leader of lies is all our enemy. We need to join forces to pour light and love into the world to such a degree that the leader of lies will shrink away.

We need to face what is going on and then bury ourselves into our families and love them most of all. We need to eat ice cream, lathered with hot fudge, and lick the spoon when we’re done. And rub our kids’ backs. And say the Rosary. And have I mentioned love?

I know I will get out of this funk. There’s an honest word for it: grief. It’s the reckoning of something very sad that not all can see, but that some of our hearts know, and must feel on behalf of others to bring some kind of balance to the world

Ice scream, you scream, we all must scream for more ice cream, and love, and light.

Do not get discouraged. We have each other. God has a beautiful plan and we have to trust Him…

Q4U: What are you doing to keep yourself “up” this week?