Whenever I think that I have anything in life figured out, God surprises me again. I thought that Merritt and Havala were holding their birthday so the most recent sextuplets could be strong enough to withstand the rigors of labor. Even after they told me that they were strong enough, Merritt continued to stall. I talked to him about presentation (he was already head down LOA.) I did exercises to help speed things along. I have no particular reason to feel impatient, merely desirous to hold my babies in my arms. No matter how I cajoled, Merritt was firm. He would not come.

Yesterday four more children joined the host: two sets of identical twin boys. They are just over a week younger than the last six, but I am not afraid. I have accepted that this is in the Lord's hands. How often we rush about trying to control the little, and the not so little things. There is much more peace in leaving our paths to God's guidance. I try my hardest, do my best and rest confident that the Grace of God will take care of the rest.

Many have accused religious people of using religion as a crutch to support themselves. It has been called a pabluum for the masses, a sop to console them in their humdrum lives. Again I laugh. My life is anything but humdrum.

Religion is not a support for the feeble. It is a tonic with which we become less infirm. Each of us is mortal, with all of mortality's vanities and frailties. With faith to strengthen us, we can rise above ourselves, we become better out of our beliefs in God. We seek to serve and love others and lift ourselves out of our wallow with the strength of Christ.

Is religion a crutch? It is every bit as much a crutch as a pole vaulter's pole. It is something outside ourselves that allows us to rise to a height that would never be possible on our own strength.