Undocumented immigrant

So, i have been thinking about thanksgiving and going over it with The Caedmon. We studied Squanto, "Pilgrims" and the "strangers". We studied the Indians and the fury of the first winter. Not much thanking that first year. As i was reading the real history to my four year old and saying to myself, "man, yeah, the Indians and white faced got along" but knowing that there was a reason for the vomit burp in the pit of my stomach. I looked at my four year old as we played Indians and Pilgrims the way it was the second or third year of the Pilgrims entrance, knowing that as time goes on we will turn the pages of history to see the demise of thanksgiving when the gleam of the hacksaw is no longer cutting corn, but the head of the united "Pilgrims" and the show off games that the Pilgrims enjoyed with Indians, will turn into how big the bullet hole is in the flesh of the Indian. I trembled trying to explain human nature. Trying to peel the pieces of rage and war in such a way that won't keep him up at night. When opening scripture i have the same sense of panic. Knowing that so much death and betrayal await the innocence of reasoning that Caedmon stands for. Trying to explain the many many pleas that God made before he unleashed the justice upon rebellion. Seeking to tie the string between the intent of heart that God and Man hold. How they are writing the same blood on every turned page of history. Realizing as i teach the history of man to my little man and the truth of God and all His languages towards man, that God is awesome. I know that is not the feelings people get but sometimes i feel so limited to explain why i coward down in the shadow of the truth that man is the same just as God is. Man will always betray their neighbors and spit in the eye of a friend. God will always plea and ask for the direct attention. He will always give no excuse for His reactions. They both will continue until the end, whatever that may be. My thanksgiving desire is to somehow be able to spin a beautiful web of knowledge that Caedmon can dine from. Eat and devour until he eats his fill and begins to make magic of his own. I want him to take my limits and inconsistencies and turn them into a finely tuned piano of music that plays the exact key and resembles the image of Gods intentions towards mankind. I love him so much and hold everything in my heart that he could be for Jesus. I pray today in 2007, that he has the seed of beauty and that i can help it to grow. Happy Thanksgiving Son.
I once said, "I dream of doing great and wonderful things for God, in the mission field, or maybe in some far off place." A friend turned and looked into my eyes and said, "Jess, maybe you are going to be mother of a child that God has designed a special purpose for. Maybe you were created to be their mom?"

peace