Tiny Feisty

This is Baby.

To be more precise, this is Baby holding her Daddy's finger. Baby was born in October with a heart condition which required open heart surgery within the first 5 hours of her life. Since then she has been through a myriad of smaller treatments, a collapsed lung, and too many ups and downs to be counted. Very recently a clip installed in her heart during the initial surgery broke, requiring an emergency surgery. Baby's parents were told she wouldn't survive. With much prayer and hope they sent her off to the surgery, whispering to her, "Prove them wrong."

She did. She proved them amazingly, beautifully, phenomenally, feistily wrong.

The latest update is that she is doing better than anyone expected; she may be able to go home at the turn of the year or soon after.

Baby's father is a baseball fan; in a moment of sleep-deprived silliness at the hospital, Baby's Momma grabbed his ball cap, punched it inside out, and slapped it on his head as a Rally Cap. A picture on Facebook was all it took to start a landslide of "Rally Cap for Baby" photos being sent in, with assurances of prayer and support from all over the globe.

All Saints Maastricht Uni Group (& Bubba) Rally for Baby

Baby's Daddy has been printing the pictures out, hanging them by her bassinet in the NICU. The nurses are blown away by the amount of support Baby is receiving; the surgeon and the anaesthesiologist are dumbfounded at Baby's strength through all of this. Baby's Momma and Daddy keep praying, keep hoping, keep loving. What can I say? They believe in prayer; they believe in hope; they believe in love.

I know Baby's Grandma; she's a pretty feisty lady. I know Baby's Daddy (he once interned for me while I was preggers -- every 20-year-old guy's dream job!) and he's a pretty feisty guy. I "know" Baby's sister and Momma through Facebook; they look to me to be the very picture of feisty gorgeousness. And Baby is proving herself every day to be more feisty than the rest of us put together.

So Baby, as dubious an honour as it may be, I pronounce you a Tiny Feisty Broad. Your Momma says you were a kicker in the womb. Keep kicking, Baby; keep kicking!

"Nothing is impossible. The word itself says, 'I'm possible.'"

(A favourite quote of Baby's family, from Audrey Hepburn.)

Your turn: if you would like to support Baby in prayer, send me a picture
of you & your Rally Cap.

I promise I'll get it to Baby's family.

Dear Mr. President

Dear Mr. President:

It is a gorgeous day here in the Netherlands where I live.  Absolutely clear blue sky, moderate temperature, nice breeze.  That doesn't actually happen too very often here, so I am glorying in it while I can.  I hope that you, too, have time to simply relish the beauty of a nice day sometimes.

Which brings me to my point: I have a suggestion for you which, although quite a small change, could, I think, make a big difference in various policies around the nation and certainly in perception.  My hope is that it could also prompt a huge change in practice.

My suggestion is simply this: hang out your laundry to line-dry.

Now, I know at first glance this might seem to be a trivial, even silly suggestion.  But I assure it is not meant to be at all.

Although I am sure we could find several issues to disagree on, we have quite a bit in common as well.  For one thing, we are both parents of two girls.  For another, we both own dogs.  We both have amazing spouses.  We both have a faith background which teaches us that God's good creation is to be lovingly stewarded.  Different people, of course, have different ideas on exactly how that stewardship should be carried out, but I am hoping that we can quickly agree on at least one basic principle: conserving energy (particularly by cutting down on electricity and gas usage) is a good thing.

Hanging out the laundry on a line to dry is an excellent means of doing just that, in addition to utilizing solar power, sanitizing one's clothes and linens (the sun's UV rays kill bacteria), saving money, and encouraging better sleep.  It honors tradition, makes practical use of materials at hand, and serves as an equalizer.  What could be more American?

I am sure you are aware of the several "planned communities" across the country -- several of them within a 25-mile radius of where you currently live.  Many, if not the vast majority, do not allow line-drying of laundry; it is "unsightly" which is just a slightly more polite way of saying "tacky".  I used to be a homeowner in one (Reston, VA) and used to follow all the rules about paint colors and light fixtures.  I obsessed about mulch and edge trimming and decried gutters which needed cleaning.

But then I moved and while I have continued to care for the various properties I have lived in, I am no longer a perfectionist about my landscaping.  Parts of my back yard are helpfully landscaped for me by my dog. Other parts boast incredible peonies, iris, strawberries, beans, honeysuckle, raspberries, and herbs.  And I hang out my laundry.  I am friendly with my neighbors, keep track of my children's homework, volunteer in the community, and laugh a lot.  I have discovered that there is a lot more to life -- a whole lot more -- than meeting some preset standard of beauty for my home and yard, especially when that standard is unhelpfully contributing to the destruction of other beautiful things.  While I might not be as posh as some may like, I certainly don't think my life can be described as "tacky" and surely the sight of clean laundry blowing in the breeze cannot be so incredibly horrible as to justify the amount of energy use and noxious emissions caused by electric/gas dryers.

It's just a little thing, line-drying laundry.  But it could make a difference, and a pretty big one, if it really gets people thinking about things like quality of life, stewardship, and dependency on fossil fuels.  So I encourage you to hang out the White House's laundry to dry.  To set an example of easy, do-able creation stewardship; to show people that concerns about "tacky" laundry lines are needless.  To set an example the same way your wife has done with her garden.

Perhaps hanging out the Presidential skivvies is not in the best interests of the dignity of the office of President (although there are ways to cleverly hang unmentionables on the inner lines with larger items on outer lines, hiding said unmentionables), but surely linens could be hung out quite easily?

And Mr. President, I assure you that there is no other luxury quite like that of falling into soft, breeze-freshened, sun-dried sheets at the end of a particularly stressful day -- of which I presume you have a few.

Respectfully,
Feisty