Monday, February 22, 2010


Eighteen years ago an article was published in Fortune Magazine that talked about the crisis children were in. It stated "no one seems to care"

To summarize: Of the 65 million Americans under 18, many live in poverty, 22% live in single-parent homes, and almost 3% live with no parent at all. Violence among the young is rampant. Playground fights that used to end in bloody noses now end in some fatalities. Schools that once considered talking in class a capital offense are routinely checking children for weapons, questioning them about drugs. A good public education, safe streets, and family dinners—with both father and mother present—seem like quaint memories of a far distant past. The parents of nearly 2,750 children separate or divorce each day. Every day over 500 children ages 10 to 14 begin using illegal drugs, and over 1,000 start drinking alcohol. Nearly half of all middle-schoolers abuse drugs or alcohol or become involved in immorality.

If that was eighteen years ago, I can only imagine what the stats are now in 2010. One of my biggest fears upon becoming a widow was the fact that my children were now a statistic. They were now among the children living in a single-parent home. I did not want time to pass and people to look at my children and sadly say "what a shame... his father died when he was young... how sad his father must be for what he has become". I was terrified that the life my children were now entering - that would have them home without a parent, and when they did have a parent I was tired, would cause them to choose poor paths in life. Paths that would cause them unmeasurable sadness and heartache.

I have attempted to be keenly aware of the impact this has had on my children and have spent much time on my knees praying to know what I could do to keep them from becoming even more of a statistic. I suppose this in one of the areas in which I have felt failure. I never used to really raise my voice to the kids or yell. I am certain they don't remember that those days once existed. Now, I am on a constant guilt trip for my inability to control my actions better. I suppose it is the combination of being tired and scared. I just don't want my kids to end up on a path that is far from the path they would have had if their father had been here. I want them to be able to develop a strong testimony of Jesus Christ - and have that as their rock, their foundation. But making that happen when the world has so much more time with them than I do becomes my great challenge. For even when I have 'time' with them, that time is spent cleaning the house, making the meals, paying the bills, servicing the car, doing the yard work and all the other things that just living life requires. Is there enough time to be a mom? Is there enough time to teach them what they need to know so they can be strong and immovable?

I have learned that for me I cannot afford to NOT live the gospel of Jesus Christ to the fullest. Joseph B. Wirthlin stated, “The storms of the evil one can be stopped at the very entrance of our homes”. So, that is what I hope and pray for everyday.

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