Reminiscence :)

I was just thinking about Olivia's birth today... When mommy got home from the hospital, we had all been watching "Rudy"... which, today, I could only tell you was about football. We were nearing the end when they pulled in the driveway, and to this day, no one has seen the last scene and a half of that movie.  It was a nice day... October 3rd.  And I remember not being able to wait for my turn to hold her, and when it finally came, I cried because I was so happy.  I loved babies... I still do, and I couldn't believe that I was holding my little darling sister.  

Chloe and I would lay Olivia on our bed when she was still days old, and we'd dress her in her little pajamas, and then we'd just smell her... There's something gloriously mysterious about the way a baby smells.  :) 

Anyways... that was then. This is now.

Olivia's bottom left. :)

Don't get me wrong, I'm still thankful for her... it's just amazing to me to watch them grow and develop characters like... hers.

Where Lies The Difference? Is There One?

What is one of the ancient practices of the world that makes us cringe and fall back in horror? Child-sacrifice: that ancient tradition that many countries in B.C. as well as A.D. practiced. Why is it so horrific? Perhaps it’s the idea of an innocent child, who has no say in whether he/she can live or die, who cannot even fight for his/her life. They are cruelly killed – sacrificed to heathen gods; they go through innumerable pains and sufferings – things that we cannot even imagine. These children, ranging from the ages of new-born to – well, even to adult age were sacrificed to “please the gods.” The horrific ways in which these new-born children were killed is too gruesome for me to describe, but it was bloody and morbid. I cannot even imagine how they went through it. But this is my point:

Many sacrificed infants and babies to the gods…. We think that is horrific. Really, who would want to kill a baby? But it is happening everywhere all the time – all the time! This dreadful thing is, yes, abortion. Many babies are aborted because the mothers “do not want them” or because they “can’t afford them” or because it is a humiliation – a result of a circumstance they shouldn’t have gotten into anyways. But what is the ultimate point of why babies are aborted? To satisfy and please the agenda of the mother. This is no different, if you really think about it, than those people way back then sacrificing babies to please the gods. In a way, the mother is pleasing a god – Self. Martin Luther once said, “I have a great pope within me: Self.” When we do things to please ourselves, even when it is wrong, we are satisfying and pleasing our own selfish desires. This is wrong – really, truly wrong.

Abortion is no different than child-sacrifice. Why would it be? Because life does not begin until the baby leaves the womb? What grows that is not alive? How can a baby grow for nine months and not be alive? A brick, which is not alive, does not grow, but if you leave out in the wind and rain, it will become beaten down – this is a result of the weather – the brick itself does not grow or shrink by itself. If life begins at conception, then abortion is murder. If abortion is murder, then why does our country allow it to go on? Why does not the government do something to stop this wicked crime? These little infants, just like the ones sacrificed, do not have the strength, or even the sense to fight for their life. They have no say in the matter. The matter of life or death is decided for them by other human beings. This is injustice, this is cruelty and murder! If life does not begin at conception, then what about those little ones who sometimes survive abortion, and are left to die on the hospital floor? When the baby screams and cries, kicks its legs and arms, then they ought to know that it is alive. They cannot kill it – they have no right. But since we do know that life begins at conception, then they have absolutely no right to interfere with that baby’s life – unless it is to save it. (Note: I am not saying that all babies that survive abortion are left to die, but I am referring to the ones that do.)

I wonder, what are the doctors consciences like? Do they even have one? Does the sound of little children’s feet haunt them – and the mother alike? Whenever they hear a baby’s cry, are they filled with regret, with remorse? Or not? Do they just go on as if nothing happened? I wonder…

How wrong, how utterly wrong it all is! Is there a worse evil than this? O! the cries of the innocent must ring and shake the earth! What a sordid, filthy, and twisted culture we have! How can we mend this great evil? Or have we gone so far that it cannot be mended?

Who will speak up for the little ones?
Helpless and half-abandoned.
They've got the right to choose life
They don't want to lose,
I've got to speak up, won't you?

Equal rights, equal time, for the unborn children.
Their precious lives are on the line,
How can we be rid of them?
Passing laws, passing out
Bills and new amendments.
Pay the cost and turn about,
And face the young defendants.

Many come and many go,
Conceived but not delivered.
The toll is astronomical,
How can we be indifferent.

Little hands, little feet,
Tears for Him who made you.
Should all on earth forsake you now,
But He'll never forsake you.

Forming hearts, forming minds,
Quenched before awakened,
For so many deliberate crimes
The earth will soon be shaken.

[Lyrics to a song, “Little Ones By Phil Keaggy.] I’ve never heard this song, but the lyrics are wonderful.

O, please pray!

A Baby!!

Today was Natalie's 7th birthday party! She had a few friends over, and among them were three girls who had a new born baby sister... Eliza Kneirim. I think she's two months old. Anyhow, we took some pictures. :) And... well... y'all know how I feel about babies. :D She was so cute--absolutely adorable.

Sleep-Less

Hullo everyone,

Whenever I can't seem to sleep, I usually post on my blog... I've really only done it once before. You see, I love my sleep so much I rarely forfeit it if I can help it. So it's seldom that I can't sleep. Did that make sense? Probably not. Anyways, maybe 2:00 AM isn't that late/early for most of you... but it definitely is for me!! Well, while I'm sitting here I might as well say something worth while... So I will.

Tonight when I was doing the dishes, I was listening to the different noises around the house, namely: Dining room: talk between the parents and Peter on his business. Kitchen: sound of pots and pans crashing together as they're being washed, dried, and put away. Landing: the sound of Angela and Chloe laughing about something particularly funny in those beautiful laughs they possess. Living room/family room/dining room/all upstairs rooms/kitchen/all hallways: the sound of scampering feet and screams of little children as they chase each other— "I'm going to get you!! Ohhhh yessss I will!! I'm going to put my lizard down your shirt!" — in short, a lovely, loud, typical night-after-dinner at the Hopkins home. Yet as I was listening to all these familiar sounds, a sense of completion and absolute contentment overtook me. I then thought how thankful I was that our family was whole. When Peter was gone for all those months, I never did have that sense. There was always something missing. When all the children younger than me went with mother to New York, it was abnormally quiet. The regular alarm clock of little children pounding up and down the stairs, slamming bedroom and bathroom doors, was completely gone. While it was refreshing, it was not normal or satisfying. And when they came home, though there was an explosion as soon as they walked through the door— (hey, they're little, what do you expect??) I thought, "Oh! We're whole now!"

These noises—yelling, fighting, playing, talking, running, etc—that all come from little childern, sometimes get on my nerves. I realize that siblings are really a blessing to me, and a lesson... A lesson in patience. They have been placed here for my sanctification.... And really, when they are all grown up, I know that I will miss all those noises. I know that the quiet will seem stifling. All these thoughts made me stop, and think, and finally be thankful for the time that I am given with my dear little siblings! How often I take things for granted... How often I get impatient and annoyed with siblings who I am supposed to love and serve. But oh! we have such a God in heaven who is so patient enough to forgive me for each one of these sins, and to never cease to teach me in the right way.

Well, I shall stop now... But I have one more thought... I just have to describe this. :)

Yesterday Olivia's mind disagreed with her body and refused to keep it running all over the place. In short, she took a nap in a chair. Now, for Olivia to take a nap in the afternoon is a rare occasion in the Hopkins household. But there she was. She had one little pudgy hand tucked under her head, and her large droopy eyelids looked like they covered half her face—but it was oh so adorable—and her little body was all scrunched up underneath a blanket. Her expression (because, you know, you DO have expressions while you sleep) was one of the utmost fatigue. She looked so sweet, so little, and so fresh and (well almost) innocent that I found her irresistible. And how grateful I was that God has given us that little girl for awhile, and how I long to cherish each moment with her, watching her grow up in the Lord.

Um... I don't know if this made sense to any of you—but hey! A blog is an online journal that's open to the public!! *gasp* So it's up to me to post, up to you to read and decide if it does make sense or not. :)

Oh, and this probably won't make much sense because it's late... :P

Ice-Skating

Thursday afternoon, the Clarkes homeschool group went ice-skating in Wheeling at Oglebay park. :D Sooo... Here's some pictures from that most enjoyable afternoon. :) (I'm kind of in a smiley-face mood... As you'll see below...)

This is Tabitha Simpson, the little sister of the Simpson girls (obviously) who I know. :) You gotta love babies... I do.

Me and Rachel on skates. Surprisingly, there aren't very many good pictures of us. But that just figures when neither one of us looks that great. :P

Beautiful Olivia, :)

Jack. He's actually a really good skater. But then he's also a boy, and boys are good at almost anything. :)

All us girls!! L to R, Emma, Olivia, Me, Jordan, Allison, Rachel.

Me Olivia and Allison. I really like Olivia's hat.

Me and Olivia dear.

Aww, Jordan!

The skating rink. It was actually a pretty good size, and there weren't tons of people there, so it was nice. I love ice-skating.

Emma and me. Ya know, I don't know why there are so many pictures of me and people. Rachel uploaded them all for me while I was playing card games with Mr. Clarke and Jack. :P

Wow, that just looks dumb. :)

And Mrs. Clarke and Catherine will end this beautiful little post. :D

Do You Guys Like Weird Pictures?!

...Cos I've got plenty!

Might As Well Make Use Of My Time....

Hello World....

It's 1:20 A.M. and I can't sleep. So instead of pacing our bedroom floor, I came down here to post about something. I'm not sure what it is. I think I'll tell the dream I had last night..... or, the night before, because it was Friday night...

Anyway, mommy had a baby. It was the sweetest little girl I had ever seen. Sweet, healthy, etc.. And she had the roundest face. Mommy put her into my arms as Chloe and daddy helped her with something. I forgot about everything in my life except that little newborn baby, gazing up into my eyes, and I marveled at God's creation. "Behold, I am fearfully and wonderfully made." It was amazing how those tiny little fingers grasped my pinkie, how those little tiny feet kicked and squirmed, how those eyes sparkled and shone. I thought, as tears came to my eyes, "This baby is real. This is not a dream. At last it's not a dream!" You see, the past few months (when the would-have-been- birthdate for the poor little baby was near) I've been having dreams that mommy has had a baby, or got pregnant, or something along those lines, and my thought was always, "This must be a dream. It's too good." This time it was, "It's too real and good to be a dream." I can still feel the warm, soft skin of the baby that I was holding in my arms, and I see her sparkling eyes as vividly as though it actually happened. It was the strangest dream I've ever had. We named her Cassandra, and it suited her perfectly round face and eyes wonderfully.
The rest of the dream is vague and incoherent. But that one part.... I forgot everything, everyone, except that little baby girl I was holding, that was the only part that was clear, and remains vivid in my mind, and that I can still feel in my arms.

Okay, I think I'll go read now....