I believe in the sanctity of a home. I believe the practice I do will affect those within my home for generations and the eternity of many souls. Ten years ago Sam and I created our own home. We now have three boys. We meet in the kitchen daily for lessons in eating. We meet in the bedroom nightly for lessons in sleep. We have lived in one bedroom apartments, and three bedroom apartments that were 600 square feet! Regardless of size and quality of the building product the place to me is like a temple. I am raising human beings…souls and relationships. I do holy things at home…teach our children be clean, to learn from board books, to play with balls and trains, to pray, to talk, to listen, to forgive and be forgiven. I don’t feel like I have to be perfect to be the teacher. I suppose if I worried to much about that nothing would get done.
When I was growing up…many told me thing potential things I could do with my life. I could be a surgeon, a scientist, the first Woman President of the United States. I believe I could be those things and possibly more…and I am grateful to those people for trying to be an inspiration. But for the next ten years, I suppose I may have traded a standing ovation from half of Congress and the Senate for sleepless nights and crying and whining voices, and it was a solid focused decision on my part. But from time to time through the cereal on the floor and my clothes, I see the potential beings the five people in our family are becoming and it inspires me to work for another day and another generation. It is the hardest thing I have ever done, but when has true worship ever been easy?
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