Random Woman emailed yet again to tell me to take her words off of my blog. FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS GOOD AND HOLY, QUIIIIIIIIIIT EMAILING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SERIOUSLY! STOP. Your words are not on my blog.
How about next time you just not write things you know nothing about?
Thank you, random woman, for sharing your love with the world.
I'd like to go ahead and address two things here. First of all, Random Woman, who incidentally emailed me last night through my Facebook page and then blocked me before I could respond, threatening to come to my doorstep because she knows where I live (guess what, the internet is a crazy place, and I know where you live, too!)! We actually DO have friends in common, which is why you randomly got an "invite" for my Facebook Page.
Your name is not posted here, as you requested. I'm not sure why you'd write words you didn't want your name attached to, but I'm all about authenticity.
Honestly, for a homeschooling Christian woman and a mother of many, you should know better.
It also makes for good blog content, and...
We're hungry over here.
2. I've been accused more times than I can count that I am pimping out my child's special needs to make money for my blog.
I'm not sure how writing about my experiences with my daughter gives you the idea that I'm trying to make money off of her. Oh, wait! I know why you think that! Because you see the "BlogHer" network button to the right there, and the ads on my site.
I totally forgot about this new movement being shoved down our throats that capitalism in all its devilish forms is like that creepy guy at the park who has been sitting in his red Ford Pinto for hours, doing nothing but eating bean burritos and scratching himself.
|he's more of a hipster, actually...|
|I couldn't find a picture of Creepy Park Guy so I found a creepy picture of one of my ultrasounds instead. This is Phoebe. You can tell because she doesn't have any hair. *face palm* More Pimping My Kids again!|
CONFRONT CAPITALISM AND CREEPY MAN, OR RUNNNNNNNNN AND DON'T LOOK BACK!
Anyway. Yes. She wanted to know why I would explain abortion to my toddler. I've explained abortion to my eight year old. I've also explained that there are many reasons a woman chooses abortion, and some of those reasons are because there is no one to help her take care of the baby, which is where Christians should come in. I don't consider my eight year old a toddler.
So, I've been duly confronted. I think maybe you'll be interested in seeing the latest payment I've received from Blogher:
BlogHer Inc. sent you 11.83 USD
|Transaction ID: 6B267099R19434525|
Just thought you'd like to know BlogHer Inc. sent you 11.83 USD.
|Note from BlogHer Inc.:Thank You!|
Yes. You read that correctly. I pimped my child's medical needs to make roughly enough money to take half of us to McDonald's. From the $1 Menu. For the month of May.
Say that they were: is anyone forcing you to read?
Why the nasty emails from a supposedly fellow "Christian?"
I spent a good part of yesterday afternoon trying to figure out why someone who was so grumpy and mean and who didn't know me from Adam would write me such a hate-filled diatribe.
We've been through a lot with our kids. So have most of you. Just because I choose to write about our experiences, and sometimes in a tongue-in-cheek way, does not mean that I love them any less.
You didn't take the time to figure that out, though, did you, Random Woman. You decided instead to write me mean and hateful things, acting like I'd been harassing you, and then blocked me before I could respond.
I'm CHOOSING to believe that there is something going on in your life that would make you respond in this way, Random Woman. I want you to know that your words deeply wounded me and I'm ticked that I allowed them to. I'm ticked that the words of some stranger I've never met made me second-guess the words that I write here; the heart that I pour out here.
I'm ticked that you read that entire letter to my beloved little Phoebe and all you could find to complain about was, well, what you decided to complain about.
Had you actually cared about me, you'd have written something a bit more loving, kind, and gentle, you know? How Jesus was.
You'd have asked me if I'd heard that taking the Lord's name in vain was a sin, and then I'd have responded in an equally rational way, and then we'd have had a conversation and I may have admitted that what I did was wrong, if I believe that Jesus is the son of God and the Lord of my life.
Instead, you attacked me.
That was wrong, and I'm calling you out on it.
Am I really not a Christian? Well, from the Bible's standpoint, I believe that I am. I'm not sure I understand how you felt you could surmise the state of my spiritual life from what you've read on this blog. Surely, it's some indication, but does any man really know what's in the heart of another?
Did you know that I'm afraid to open my Bible precisely because I'm just a little bit terrified of what God may ask/require of me? Is that OK to admit, or is it better to go through an entire lifetime just spouting out the answers I know everyone wants to hear?
Is THAT what makes someone a Christian?
Acting the part?
These are, quite honestly, the things that keep me up at night, Random Woman.
I'm also calling anyone else out who thinks it's totally OK to abuse someone online just because you're not face to face.
Scott and I have had the ongoing conversation about how reading the comment section in any sort of public forum is depressing. You realize how many people think they can say whatever horrible, despicable, hate-filled thing and get away with it, just because they're anonymous.
Is this really how people are? Do they just pretend to be nice in public because that's the societal norm?
If so, that's terrifying.
RW, I am choosing to believe there is something that has happened in your past that was so painful you took the pain of it out on me. I'm choosing to believe that this is not who you really are, and I'm forgiving you for your words. Not because I'm perfect, but because I've been the one writing the angry things before.
I asked my friend Jen why I cared so much about what this woman wrote; how I could care about anything any stranger could write to me about how I mother, or how I live my life.
"Face it, Rach. The internet's your abusive boyfriend. You can't quit coming back."
Next up? I take a crack at some twisted Christian theology. It will probably make me more enemies, but at least I can die knowing I really thought it all through.
and now, for you. Some roses:
What creepy amount of internet abuse wouldn't be complete without some roses breaking through broken paper with "Forever" inscripted on the side?