A Blog Friend Intervention

I cannot believe how much time has passed since my trip to Indonesia. It was almost a month ago now! One part of my trip that I was especially blessed by, was being able to stay with my Mom's blog friend, Wanda, while I was in California. She and her husband Don welcomed me into their home like I was family, and I guess in one way, we are family. They both love our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ and because of that we can be family, in the family of Christ. Wanda was such an encouragement to me and also a challenge. Not in a bad way, but her example challenged me. She was so sweet and caring to her husband, and such a servants heart. Look at her! Isn't she just the sweetest lady? I mean, not everyone lets random girls from the other side of the country stay with them. God bless her and Don! I miss you Wanda! I wish you lived down the street from me. :)

A Birthday

People say that I look just like her. I say that I am her twin. People know I am her daughter, even if they have never met me before. It's cause I am her twin. She's my Mom and tomorrow is her birthday. I think she's turning 37 this year... In honor of her birthday, I tell you some things about her.

1) She loves Jesus.
2) My Mom is artistic.
3) She has raised seven children.
4) She has been married nearly 30 years! (Oh my!)
5) Mom can make one mean pie, and it's tasty too!
6) She taught me how to bake while I was at a young age.
7) She loves kids,
8) and has babysat them for many years.
9) She has two sisters and two brothers. (One is in heaven.)
10) Mom has an uncanny way of being able to love us kids, no matter what!
11) She is two weeks older than my Dad.
12) She takes care of my Grandma.
13) She shares.
14) She was born on Palm Sunday.

There is much more, but at 10:49, my brain starts to shut down and my bed is calling. I love you Mommy! I hope your birthday is a happy one!

A St. Patrick's Birthday

May the luck'o the Irish be with you! Or rather, happy birthday honey! See, my favorite guy has his birthday on St. Patrick's Day. That means he shares his day with green, four-leaf clovers, Irish soda bread, corned beef and cabbage, and little leaping leprechauns. Every year (at least since we've been married) he has had corned beef and cabbage for his birthday supper, just because it's that time of year. This year I wanted to be sure I made him what he really wanted. And he requested prime rib. (Okay, watch out for luxury taste buds!) So I tried my best to make a delicious, "luxury", untypical (atypical?), St. Patrick's Day supper. Prime rib, asparagus and mashed potatoes. Okay, mashed potatoes fits the St. Patrick's Day mold... I also made him a cake and Josh helped me put the sprinkles on. He lavished the cake with little handfuls of sprinkles, heaped in little piles. I encouraged him to spread them even, while the colored bits of wax filtered through his fingers and onto the counter. He was proud of his efforts and he smiled broadly while he tipped up the container and let the last of the sprinkle crumbs land on the cake and onto the edge of the cake plate. He even found the candles for our cake. We had a number "2"candle and a number "3" candle. So for Adam's birthday this year, he had a choice of turning 32 or 23. He choose to live some more in his 20's. It was a good choice and he ought to live this last year in his 20's gratefully...

A Little About Josh

There is a little boy who lives in my house who loves to roar and be loud. Thursday of this week he played all day long that he was a dinosaur. He growled, he prowled and he made it well known who and what he was. That boy of mine was a fierce dinosaur. Well, bedtime rolled around and the dinosaur was tucked into bed and kissed goodnight. In the middle of the night, well after the dinosaur in my son had dissolved back into a sleeping little boy, dinosaurs were still prowling around in his mind. Suddenly, there was a dinosaur standing tall and ferocious as ever, growling at him from the corner of his bedroom! "Mommy, Daddy!" came the cries from his room. "I'm scared!" Not once, but twice during the night I had to comfort and and lovingly tell him that there were no dinosaurs. But when the dinosaur raised his head the third time, we called our little Joshua to come into our bed, where we could snuggle him down and he could sleep in safety for the rest if the night. Come morning, he vividly recounted his dream to me, still with nervousness in his voice. And that evening, when Daddy tucked him into bed, he was armed with everything he would need if the dinosaur came again. His laser blaster, Iron Man, Thomas the triceratops... You name it. If it would help protect him from a dinosaur, he had it with him. And guess what... No dinosaurs attacked him that night!

Horrible Tragedy

My heart is heavy today. My mind feels a million miles away. I just watched a horrendous video of the earthquake and tsunami in Japan. Tears gathered in my eyes and the people there did not seem like strangers to me. They felt like neighbors being washed away in a rush of debris. I realize that I knew none of them personally, but I feel connected none-the-less. You see, just eight days ago I spent a brief moment in Tokyo. I brushed shoulders with the people of Japan. People who are now hurting, desperate for help, and crying out for salvation. People who have just witnessed their lives crumble before their very eyes.

"Dear God! Please help! I know we can do nothing for those who have already lost their lives, but dear God have mercy on those who still have breath! Rescue them in this moment of dire need. Come to their aid and let them witness Your salvation!"

Dirty Little Hands

Their brown eyes watched us where ever we went. Curiosity. Eager eyes looking for some indication that we might acknowledge their presence. Little boys and girls. Waiting for a wink or a slight smile from us. We could've been their sponsors and they knew we came with love to share on their sponsors' behalf. I know I couldn't keep myself from getting down on their level and loving on them. They would gather around and wonder what this blonde girl was going to do next. I made faces at them, laughed with them, drew in the dirt for them and tried my best to communicate with them despite our language barrier. Their eyes laughed at my silly antics and their giggles made me laugh out loud. It was pure bliss. Dirty little hands grasped mine and as long as I was not afraid of sitting in the dirt, they would scootch their little bodies close to mine. The days were never long enough and the time to say good-bye always came too soon. Each one of us, old and young, big and little, squeezed in as many last minute good-byes as we could. Kisses were blown through car windows and hands waved wildly as we drove away. We left with our hearts full each time. And I pray their young hearts were full as well, full and overflowing with the love of Jesus.

I...

I traveled to the other side of the world. I hugged children I had never before met. I witnessed the craziest traffic I had ever seen. I was mistaken for Brittany Spears, just because I was blonde. I was awoken every morning by the blaring horns of the Muslim Call to Prayer. I was kissed by the sweetest 17 year old girl in the world. I was moved. I was inspired. I was broken. I was changed forever. I was touched by the love of Jesus. I am still processing.