FOR ANN:

I am setting down on paper, this account, because my dear friend Ann Harter asked me to. I shared this with the ladies in my bible study, and she, wanted to share it with her three daughters, but she couldn’t get through it “without bawling”. So here it is.

My sisters and I had come home to visit from being spread out all over the country. My faithful parents raised eight of their nine children in the house that my father built. What a blessed heritage we have. Raised by a godly husband and wife, who diligently lived out and taught us to love God and His Word! We all cherished these times when we could scrape up enough money, clear our busy schedules to return home and reconnect with our family.

The girls were sitting with mom and reflecting on life. The subject of our brother Kyle came up. He died of SIDS on his two-month birthday. We were asking mom questions about things that as a child, we didn’t think about, but now as grown women, and some of us entering parenthood, we wanted to know.

I don’t remember all the questions and answers, but one of mom’s answers was this.

“I never prayed for a healthy baby. And I will never pray for any of you to have healthy babies either. With every one of you kids, with every pregnancy I prayed one prayer consistently.
‘Lord, give me the child you have planned for me to raise. Teach me to love this child, and to teach them to love You. Please Lord, bring salvation this child. Use this child for Your glory. If this child will not love and follow You, Lord, then please take this child home to heaven before they can choose to walk away from you.’”

We were all stunned. She continued.

“All I ever wanted to be growing up was a mommy. I know that sounds silly. And I did like other things. Catching snakes, climbing trees, playing accordion, art, etc. But I loved babies! And there was nothing I desired more than to get married and have one of my very own to love and take care of.

When I was just a young girl (maybe 10 or 11) I went to an old-time revival meeting. I happened to be sitting behind a new mother with a tiny new baby, all swaddled up. I could not really concentrate on the message, because I couldn’t tear my eyes off of this new mother and her child. She was so radiant! The love that she had for her little one was manifest in every move she made. Her attentiveness, her care, her anticipation of every need and comfort of that baby, was so overwhelming and awe-inspiring to me! I spent the whole meeting watching her and the baby. Towards the end of the meeting, she put the little one over her shoulder, and eventually the baby turned its head my direction. I had been waiting the whole night to get a glimpse of this baby, so adored by this loving, gentle mother!

When I saw the face of the child, I drew in a sharp breath. Shocked. This little baby was grotesque. He had a severe clef pallet, completely disfiguring his tiny face. I sat stunned. My eyes reverted to the mother. This was no new revelation to her. Her loving countenance never changed. Her gentle hands continued to caress the baby. She shifted the child, kissed his face, and protectively cradled him in her arms.

Sitting there, enveloped in God’s Word, some truths became crystal clear to me. (And years later, God used this experience to teach me even more.) God loves me with a love far greater than this mother’s love, an eternal and perfect love. I am sinful. My sin is a distortion of God’s creation, of His image. I must look grotesque to Him sometimes. But He never shirks away from me. He planned to give that baby to that mother! He has given that mother exactly what she needs to love and care for that baby. He’s still creating something in her. His tool is that child. He is molding and protecting that child through that mother. He is revealing Himself to that little one through the love of a mother.

I prayed then; “God, if you choose to give me a child that is not perfect, I will count that as a privilege, because You will give me what I need to love and care for it. I will not demand that you do things my way. I won’t pretend to know better that You.”

God never gave me a special needs child. But with every pregnancy I prayed the same prayer. I am always deeply offended when I hear someone say, “Oh, we don’t care what it is, just as long as it is healthy!” What are they really saying, “God, don’t mess up on this one”? Is a special needs child a mess up? Or perhaps they are saying, “This is what I require to make me happy God. I know better than You.” Are physical appearance and mental health more important than God’s purposes?

What comforted me after Kyle died was the simple fact that God is The Most High God. I knew that Kyle was in heaven, and, I believe, it was God honoring the prayers of a faithful mother. If Kyle had lived, perhaps he would have chosen to turn his back forever on God.

There is something worse than death, and it is certainly not temporal/physical imperfections.”

Last night after our evening service we had a lil' ole thing we like to call AltarNative. Many aspects of Truth become clear when you ponder that title. I confess, that I am, at times, more an AltarAlien than Native. I spend more time and energy in the temporal present (alternative to Reality) than at the eternal altar (the feet of Jesus, the throne of God).

Anyway, last night was a sweet time of fellowship, of sitting at the Savior's feet and rehearsing His sacrifice, His suffering, His perfection, His holiness, His love and His example for us to follow. I could've stayed forever, and one day, I will!

It was nearly perfect, but I had to open my mouth and spit out my words in testimony. It didn't come out at all like it had been on my heart earlier that day. So, I kick myself again! It even made it worse when none of the rest of the band shared (even though Chet encouraged us to do so). So stupid me, stuck out like a sore thumb. But, Humility is a good companion for me, and I don't wish her to leave, because then I am only left with my friend Pride (who is not a good influence). I wish he would leave for good. I should have learned this lesson well by now. Stick with Scripture and song!

In spite of my foolishness, I will never grow tired of trying to get to know Him deeper! What an awesome God! I am humbled He chose me and privileged to follow Him "who, for the joy set before Him, endured the cross, despising the shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God." Heb. 12:2

The Hook

Carrie Swenson reminded me of the title of my blog. There is no Wright Way...yet. Let me explain. I created this blog initially because I wanted to post on a dear friend of mine's blog, but couldn't w/o a registered blog thingy. So, I stumbled through the create a blog screen, not intending to actually CREATE a blog spot, but just to go througt the motions enough to post on someone's blog. It asked for a title or something like that and I didn't know what to put. Previously that day I had a conversation with a friend of mine Hannah Wright. Our families are really good friends and we were making spoof's on our names. Her siblings and my daughter were talking about having a band and naming it The Wright Way. So, hence the name. Another funny thing Hannah said. She said it would be funny to go from being Hannah Wright and marry someone with the last name Wong, so she would go from being Wright to Wong. That Hannah! She makes me smile.

Tired now, Three of the four Z's played soccer today. It's hard work-cheering. We also went rock climbing at Bishop Peak today. Good times. I miss Zailey, though.

Haiti or Bust!!
We had another Haiti Team meeting tonight. This is one of our promo pictures that we use in the pre-service slide shows at church. Thanks to Crisha for filling in at the last second to take the picture. Dawn Elder was going to be our photographer that night, but John (her husband) had to go to the hospital with kidney stones. We pray everything comes out OK.



Tonight my little angel left for Florida with Grandma and Grandpa Way and cousin Preston. I already miss her! She is such a sparkle! I know she will have a blast. Her and Preston are great friends. They are so cute together. Preston, who is just a year older than Zailey is her self-made protector. He's like a little old man! Taking his role as Zailey's guardian very seriously. I remember when they were in preschool together (at Grandma's house). They were riding to the store with Grandma, two peas in a pod, sitting in the back seat. They were unaware of the world around them, deeply engrossed in planning out the rest of their lives. They were discussing what each of their roles would be when they were grown up and married (to each other). Deja vu! Didn't Anita want to marry Klynt-until she found out it was illegal for first cousins? Anyway, Preston was planning on making all of the furniture for their house. After all, his dad liked to build things, and Preston had learned by watching. Zailey didn't want to

I am reluctantly taking my first step into the blogworld. I like what my friend Jenn calls it. blaagg! So as I embark on this journey I will say (to myself) my purpose in this endeavor. It is not to communicate to others, (since I will give my site address to no one) as much as it is to record my happenings and thoughts (and that shouldn't take much) for the purpose of posterity. I would like to imagine that when I am dead (DED) my children will find this and have a rememberance of their loon of a mother. I used to journal the old fashioned way, but I am not completely opposed to modern conviences... so here goes.

Note to self: remember that your "s" key on your laptop sticks, it could be potentially offensive.