Monthly Archives: May 2012

He calls us by name.


The following is an edit of the message I gave at our church on Mother’s Day. I’ve just edited it up a bit so it make more sense outside of our church. I hope if you were hurting this past Mother’s Day, or are hurting today, that you find something in it to ease that pain. God loves you.


Last year on Mother’s Day, I remember our pastor saying he didn’t like to preach on Mother’s Day. I completely understood right away. And right away I thought, “I’ll do it next year.” And then I said and did nothing about it for about 9 ½ months. Back in February, we got into a conversation that led him to say, “I’d really like a woman to speak at our church sometime.” And I suddenly heard myself respond, “I’ll do Mother’s Day!” Because I am nothing, if not restrained. Then I started kicking myself, because I’ve never written a sermon or message. And Mother’s Day is a big deal to a lot of people. Basically, it sounded like a great idea until I’d actually volunteered for it. But there’s a group of people that have been on my heart for a really, really long time, and I want to talk to them today. While I’m definitely a little more comfortable behind a music stand here at Point, this is a message that’s been on my heart for around 10 years.

What I understood about not liking to preach on Mother’s Day is that it isn’t sunshine and roses for everyone. Mother’s Day can be a beautiful day. It can be full of love and honor. For example, I’m hoping not to cook at all today. *ahem* But Mother’s Day can also be full of hurt. Maybe your mother wasn’t around. Maybe not being around would have been better than the parenting you received. Maybe you lost your mother. Long ago. Recently. Maybe your mother continues to hurt you, whether she means to or not. Then there are mothers who have lost a child. A miscarriage, or as an adult. Maybe it’s just the relationship that’s lost. Step-mothers. Women who want to be a mother, but can’t be. What if you just have no desire to be a mother? Whatever the situation might be, if it doesn’t fit our Hallmark mold of Mother’s Day, it can make the day terribly difficult. And sometimes, when you’re in one of those situations, church is the very last place you want to be. I get that. In 2002 I sat in the back of a church, looking at all the mothers with their corsages. I listened to the praise for everything they do. I looked around as they all stood and we all clapped. And I felt so completely alone in that very full church on that day. I wished I’d stayed home.

Some days when I look at the heaps of toys and socks on the floor and the half-eaten poptarts on the counter, it’s hard to remember that before my three girls showed up I spent what felt like a long time wondering if I would be able to be a mother. Compared to many, my wait was short. I was just starting fertility drugs around that Mother’s Day 10 years ago. Instead of feeling full of hope, I was bracing myself for the worst. It’s certainly not the fault of happy mothers or of churches that I felt so alone that day. But it made me very sensitive that a lot of people will smile and say “Good Morning” while they hold the hurt inside.

On the other hand, I also remember being at a church on Mother’s Day back in college. I wasn’t thinking about being a mother yet, and I wasn’t there with my mother. Even then the day made me feel a little bit like an outsider. I remember them asking all the mothers to stand. And then they asked all the aunts to stand. Sunday School teachers. It went on until every woman was standing. I loved that! Because I truly believe that whether you have a child or not, you can play a mothering role – and you probably do.

It’s been a long time since I had that feeling of being an outsider on a day like today, but I remember it very clearly. Every year, my heart just aches for anyone who might be feeling the same thing or something similar. That time of my life changed me. I’ve always been a talker – a sharer. I will very likely give you my life story after running into you in an aisle at Target. It’s because I’ve always felt like if there’s something I’ve gone through that can help someone else, then I want to help. I know how different it is to talk to someone who’s been down the same road you have. There’s a different level of comfort and understanding there. Besides, if I can help someone else even a little bit through something I’ve experienced, then that brings some good out of it as well.

I’m not going to be telling you how to mother God’s way, or how to be the ideal mom. First off, I wouldn’t consider myself a credible source. Second, I’d like to talk to more than just the moms. So I just want to share a few lessons I’ve learned on the way. A few of my lightbulb moments.

I have a house full of girls. Ella is almost 9, Natalie is 7, and Zoey is 20 months. Which means I also have a house full of feelings. If you know anything about little girls, you know there’s on occasion – DRAMA. With the older two being so close in age, they are the best of friends and the worst of enemies. There are often big feelings over something that maybe isn’t that big of a deal in my eyes. It’s huge and life altering to them, but not to me. Their scope is small. I know they’re making more of it than they need to. I can see a bigger picture. I have more experience than them. I’ve been through it before. Sometimes it really hits me – so has God. He is the Alpha and Omega. Beginning and end. Not only was He there at the beginning, then he sent Jesus to live on the earth. God may have seen everything since time began, but he also walked on this earth. He’s lived here, human, just like us.

My kids often think they know what’s best for them. They argue with me. They negotiate. If Ella doesn’t support us in the lifestyle to which we wish to become accustomed with her litigation skills – I will be very surprised. My kids fight what I’ve asked them to do, or more likely, what I’ve told them they can’t do. But like I said, I see a bigger picture. I’m parenting based on my own experiences. It’s about passing on to them the information I’ve collected over time. There are lessons I hope they learn from just my words. The stove is hot, don’t touch it. But sometimes they still do. How often do I do that with God? How often does He tell me what’s best, but I think my way is better for me? Or how often do I think it’s not a big deal if I listen when it really is?

I remember when Ella was really little. She had a box full of markers with the caps on. She kept trying to stack them end to end to touch the ceiling. But about halfway, it would always fall over. The markers weren’t a tight enough fit to stack that high. They weren’t all the same kind. She was getting really frustrated. I told her I didn’t think it was going to work – they were going to fall every time. Markers aren’t made to be stacked to the ceiling – that’s not what they’re for. They’re for drawing. Making beautiful pictures. If she’d listened to me, I could have saved her the heartache. But she kept going until she finally figured it out the hard way. I can be that way, too. How often does God hand me some pieces, and instead of waiting for instructions I run off doing my own thing with them? Determined to make it work by myself? I ignore his nudging. I don’t sit and listen to what he’d wanted. I learn the hard way.

Some of my favorite Bible studies I’ve gone through are by Chip Ingram. They’re full of things that stick in my head, and come back later when I need them. In one of them, he tells a story about a time of life while he was in seminary where he was at the end of his emotional rope. He was spread too thin. Overwhelmed. He said, “If this is what you get when you follow Christ with all your heart, maybe it’s time to check out of the Christian life – at least the ministry part of it.” Then one of his theology professors said, “Students, the wisdom of God tells us that God will bring about the best possible results, by the best possible means, for the most possible people, for the longest possible time.” Those words changed the most important thing for Chip – his perspective. He suddenly understood that if there was a better way, that’s what he’d be going through. But he had to trust that this WAS the best way. I want to say that sentence one more time, slowly, because it has been in the back of my head for years. The wisdom of God tells us that God will bring about the best possible results, by the best possible means, for the most possible people, for the longest possible time.

It says in Romans 11:33-36:  Oh, how great are God’s riches and wisdom and knowledge! How impossible it is for us to understand his decisions and his ways! For who can know the Lord’s thoughts? Who knows enough to give him advice? And who has given him so much that he needs to pay it back? For everything comes from him and exists by his power and is intended for his glory. All glory to him forever! Amen.

How great is His wisdom. How great is His knowledge. He is seeing a bigger picture than me. Who can know the Lord’s thoughts? Who knows enough to give him advice? Why do I spend so much time telling God how things should be?

So I’ve learned a lot of lessons while parenting. Those are just a few of them. But I’ve also learned a lot about the nature of God. I’ve learned something about how God must feel about me. I know how precious each one of my kids is to me. I know how much I love them. How I love each one of them differently. How even though I can get upset at something they do, I still love them so much.

Sometimes your child does something you asked them not to do. Sometimes they do something they know is probably wrong, but you never specifically said not to do it. A few days ago on a warm day, one of the girls asked if she could put on a swimsuit and get in the neighbor’s kiddie pool. It was almost time to get ready for dinner, so I said no. She went back outside. A few minutes later she came back in. “Is it ok if we’re putting our feet in the water?” Huh. Meaning you did already, and you’d like to know if that was wrong? It’s easy to get hung up on details and forget the point. The point was stay out of the water. Me just saying no swimsuits, not feet is a detail. This is how I’ve come to feel about when the Pharisees asked Jesus about the greatest commandment. Matthew 22: 34-40, “Hearing that Jesus had silenced the Sadducees, the Pharisees got together. One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” The point is, love God first with everything you are, and then love your neighbor. I think sometimes we get too hung up on details. If we were truly living our lives with God at the center, I feel like everything else would fall into place. We wouldn’t worry about technicalities of whether the Bible implies something or says it specifically, because the Lord would be at the heart of everything we did and thought. I’m not saying the rest of the Bible is irrelevant – far from it. If we take it as a whole, it helps us understand the nature of God. But everything hangs on the command to love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind. Love your neighbor as yourself.

I’ve also learned what it’s like to watch my child hurt, and how it makes me feel. When one of my girls is truly hurting, there isn’t a worse feeling. I may want to fix whatever it is – but sometimes that isn’t for the best. Sometimes it’s something that can’t be fixed. Sometimes the only thing I can do is hold them, and whisper something reassuring while my own heart hurts for them.

That’s not something we grow out of. We all experience hurt. Lost jobs. Broken relationships. Sickness and disease. Bills we can’t pay. Feeling trapped in sin. Misunderstandings. All kinds of hurts. Even as – I hope – a semi-decent mother – I’m not always there for my child. I don’t always make the right choice. I do the best I can, and I love my kids like crazy – but God loves them more. God is a better parent than any parent you have ever known. Maybe in your experience that isn’t saying much – so I’ll reword it this way: God is the perfect parent. I believe God holds us if we let him. I believe he whispers words of comfort. David wrote in Psalm 56, “Record my misery; list my tears on your scroll— are they not in your record? Then my enemies will turn back when I call for help. By this I will know that God is for me.”

God is for you. He has taken note of every tear. If you’ve genuinely asked, he’s forgiven you. Jeremiah 31 says “I will forgive their wickedness, I will remember their sins no more.” He forgives, and he forgets. I forgive my children all the time, but as humans, it’s difficult to forget. Our God is for you. In Psalm 30:5 it says, “Weeping may last for the night, but joy comes in the morning.” I love that verse. Whatever hurt I experience is temporary. Joy WILL come. Maybe not when I want it to, or the way I want it to, but it WILL come. There will be joy.

It may be hard to tell I had a point in all of this rambling. But it’s a pretty basic one. God loves you. No matter what you’re feeling today, God loves you. You are his child. He loves you more than anyone has ever loved you, and more than any person ever could. I want to end with the first half of John chapter 10. Because it holds the truth I want you to take from here today. It’s the parable of the Good Shepherd and his sheep. This is Jesus talking.

“I tell you the truth, anyone who sneaks over the wall of a sheepfold, rather than going through the gate, must surely be a thief and a robber! But the one who enters through the gate is the shepherd of the sheep.  The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep recognize his voice and come to him. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. After he has gathered his own flock, he walks ahead of them, and they follow him because they know his voice.  They won’t follow a stranger; they will run from him because they don’t know his voice.”
Those who heard Jesus use this illustration didn’t understand what he meant, so he explained it to them: “I tell you the truth, I am the gate for the sheep.  All who came before me were thieves and robbers. But the true sheep did not listen to them.  Yes, I am the gate. Those who come in through me will be saved. They will come and go freely and will find good pastures.  The thief’s purpose is to steal and kill and destroy. My purpose is to give them a rich and satisfying life.
“I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd sacrifices his life for the sheep. A hired hand will run when he sees a wolf coming. He will abandon the sheep because they don’t belong to him and he isn’t their shepherd. And so the wolf attacks them and scatters the flock. The hired hand runs away because he’s working only for the money and doesn’t really care about the sheep.
“I am the good shepherd; I know my own sheep, and they know me,  just as my Father knows me and I know the Father. So I sacrifice my life for the sheep.  I have other sheep, too, that are not in this sheepfold. I must bring them also. They will listen to my voice, and there will be one flock with one shepherd.
“The Father loves me because I sacrifice my life so I may take it back again. No one can take my life from me. I sacrifice it voluntarily. For I have the authority to lay it down when I want to and also to take it up again. For this is what my Father has commanded.”

I love how Jesus says he knows his own sheep. That he calls them by name. Sometimes I need a reminder that my relationship with Jesus is personal. It’s not just some contractual agreement that I will do my best to follow his commands, and in turn I will be saved from hell. It’s personal. God knows me. He knows my heart. He knows my hurts. He cares for me. Just like I love the uniqueness of each of my girls – God loves me in a unique way.

Sheep are pretty easily led astray. They need guidance. I’ve gotten an even better glimpse of this lately with my toddler. Everyday feels like a series of close calls. I let her walk, but she needs to hold my hand. I want to guide her in the right direction, and keep her out of the street. She doesn’t know what it is, but I do.   

We are God’s sheep. We are his children. God gave up his only son for us. For you. Sometimes I get stuck thinking of it in terms of Jesus dying for the sins of the world. That’s true. But we can also say that he gave his life for yours. Your life -my life – was more important to him than his own. God’s wisdom meant that the sacrifice of Jesus brings about the best possible results, by the best possible means, for the most possible people, for the longest possible time. Forever. Eternal life. For you and for me. He calls his sheep by name. He called me by name. He called you by name. When you wander off he misses you – he calls you by name. He wants to bring you safely back to the sheepfold. God is for you. No matter what you might be going through today, no matter what hurts you might have. He is for you. He holds you close. He offers joy in the morning. He knows you. And he loves you.


RTT: It’s actually Tuesday


This is a tough RTT. Mostly because yesterday I thought it was Tuesday. And today I’ve thought it was Monday. Have you ever had that happen? Usually it keeps going in one direction. But I started the week ahead, and now I’m already behind. It’s bizarre.

  • Today I saw a woman walking in the park who looked remarkably like Mary Poppins. I mean, down to the carpet bag and umbrella. Hair bun. The whole deal.
  • I blame some of my day confusion on my work this week. I keep going from really behind with uber urgent projects to all caught up. It’s been hard to remember it’s all in the same day.
  • Today is another massage day. You know, as long as today is actually Tuesday. Part of me wishes it was more like a soothing spa massage, instead of 30 minutes of my therapist dragging her elbow as deep into my back as she can. And part of me thinks if I had a spa massage now it would feel like the person wasn’t even touching me, with nothing at all happening except for the hour of quiet. Which, let’s face it, sometimes you’d pay $75 for an hour of quiet.
  • I just finally finished up that book on French parenting. And now for a strange followup, I’m reading an auto-biography of a woman who started an organization to save orphans in Benin. So I’m going from how the French kids all go to free daycare and eat fancy food that I would order in a fancy restaurant and my children would refuse to eat; to poor, starving children covered in skin lice who eat 1/2 a cup of rice a day. I wish I was exaggerating. Half a cup of rice a day. That wouldn’t fill me up for 5 minutes. Heartbreaking. I don’t know how people see babies and kids in that situation and don’t just load them all up to take them home. Obviously that’s not possible, but wouldn’t you want to take them and just figure it out when you get home? If I were Angelina Jolie I would have 80 kids.
  • Today I accidentally poured Zoey’s whole milk on my cereal. Yuck. Which now sounds really awful after my last random thing.
  • When I went to the walking park downtown, I passed by the easy parking spot thinking there would be plenty more. Then I panicked, and parked on the 3rd – 4th level of a parking ramp. That had no elevator. Even though I had Zoey in a stroller. It was fine going down. But the walk back up was a little ridiculous. And I wanted to smack myself when I stepped out of the garage to see 3 easy spaces right in front of me. In my defense, when I went to the top of the ramp, I thought there WAS an elevator.

That’s all I’ve got. Stacy has more.

Even I didn’t really see that one coming


I had to take a bit of a bloggy break to work on a different writing project. It had pretty much been ages and ages since I’d needed to write something. You’ll never guess what it was.

Ok, I’ll just tell you. A sermon. I gave the message at our church on Mother’s Day. You know what? I’m just going to say it. I PREACHED. Ha!

I don’t have an official, written down bucket list, but if I did that would have been on it. It’s something I’ve wanted to do since probably my sophomore year of college. And this particular message was something I’d either wanted to say or hear for about 10 years. So it was really amazing to do it. I felt very blessed to have been asked. Somehow, even though I’d wanted to do it forever, by the time Sunday rolled around I really couldn’t believe it was happening.

It was important for it to be Mother’s Day. It’s a glorious and lovely day for a lot of people. But it can also come with an awful lot of hurt. From bad relationships with a mother to not being able to have children – there are so many ways it can be difficult for people. Many years ago, I sat in the back of a church on Mother’s Day all hopped up on fertility hormones wondering if I would ever be a mother. A couple months later I had a miscarriage. By the next Mother’s Day I was extremely pregnant with Ella, but I have never ever forgotten how I felt that day. Every year, I just wonder who is feeling that kind of pain around me. And a lot of times we sort of gloss over that – or at the very least, it doesn’t occur to us. Last year our pastor had talked about it, and said it’s the reason he doesn’t really like to preach on Mother’s Day. I decided I’d do it this year. But I never said a word. Then one day we were having a conversation and he said he’d like to have a woman speak at our church, and would I maybe be interested sometime? I’LL DO MOTHER’S DAY. Sold!

I was so confident that God had put that message in the center of my heart for so very long, that every minute just felt amazing. Like I was doing exactly what I was supposed to do. Not for the rest of my life or anything, but that day. Like when we first came to this town, I knew it would be home. And the first Sunday we went to our church, I knew it was where we were supposed to be. This felt the same way. Like saying those words was the right thing to do.

And then I went home and got sick. Within an hour I was all achy, and I had a low fever and super sore throat. So I spent the rest of my Mother’s Day alternating between watching Food Network in the recliner and watching the PBS show “Finding Your Roots” on my iPad in bed.

Oddly enough, that was exactly what I’d asked for. Just without the sick part.

Farewell, Bam Bam. We hardly knew ye.


Friday all the girls and I headed over to the humane society to see about some hermit crabs. I envisioned walking in, saying we wanted them, and walking out. It turns out even the adoption of hermit crabs is serious business. I went through an adoption application interview. I promised that Captain America knew I was there attempting to adopt hermit crabs. When it was over, the nice girl said, “Ok. Well, someone should call you sometime before 1 pm tomorrow to let you know.” OH! Alright. And Ella said, “Are we taking them home??” I said, “Well, they need to make sure we’re a good fit first.” “Why?” Yeah, I don’t know. But they do. Surely because it makes sense with things like cats and dogs and bunnies, and it’s easier to just keep the rule across the board.

Saturday the girls made me promise 82 times that I would let them know the very moment that I received the phone call about the hermits. Sure enough, I got the call. We were deemed fit to be a hermit crab family! It was that much more exciting by having to wait overnight. So that afternoon we headed over to pick up the crabs. Pebbles and Bam Bam. Pebbles was all over the place. Very friendly. For a crab. Bam Bam didn’t seem interested in coming out of his shell. We decided he was shy. I signed the papers, and we took them home.

We spent the afternoon trying to get Bam Bam to play. Or move. The next afternoon, Natalie (the Sensitive One and future vet) and I headed over to the pet store with Bam Bam. “Could you tell me if this crab is…still living?” “Nope. This one’s dead.” Ok…Natalie burst into tears. Just as she did, a humane society volunteer happened to walk by, she overheard what happened. This was terrible! She was so sorry! Did I want a refund? Then another volunteer came over – “Can I pay for a new hermit crab?”

Good heavens, no, I said. It was a hermit crab. It was fine. I paid $5 and got a tank, food, a spray bottle and a book. Let’s all just calm down. Natalie picked out a new hermit crab, who was aptly named Zoom Zoom. When he’s not buried in the corner of the tank, he is FAST. Also, he has a car on his shell. So there’s that. Unfortunately, it was a rough few days for Natalie. She continued to burst into tears at the mention of a hermit crab. I’m pretty sure she has mourned the loss of Bam Bam more than Pebbles did.

I’ve been impressed by two things with my girls who are allowed to handle the hermit crabs (It’s going to be a mighty long time before Zoey’s allowed to touch them – she would totally chuck one across the room).

1. Ella retained every smidgen of knowledge she learned about hermit crabs at school. Every little bit. If we have a question, she’s got an answer.

2. Natalie is very brave with them. She’s actually less scared to handle them than Ella.

So that’s all the news from Hermit Crab Central. If you have any hermit crab care questions, Ella would be happy to answer them.


I may not be a hermit, but I am crabby.


I don’t know what that means. Except that Ella came home from school a few weeks ago begging to take home a class hermit crab. Forever – not just for a weekend. And then she handed me the packet. The very, very thick packet of “So you’re adopting a hermit crab” information.

Hermit crabs need a tank. Hermit crabs need a tank heater, because they need a constant temperature of 75 degrees. They need the inside of the tank to have a consistent humidity of at least 70%. The initial hermit crab investment for the “free” hermit crab was estimated at $75. FOR A FREE HERMIT CRAB.We’d need bedding. Sand. Two water dishes. Hermit crab food pellets.

So I said, aw shucks honey, how about a fish? So we looked at Betta fish. Seems those can be a bit complicated, too.

But here’s the thing, you hear of people who spend the $75 on hermit crab gear and the crab is dead in a week. And then you hear of people who stick the crab in old Tupperware and it lives for years. Same with the fish. It’s a pet. It’s alive. You really can’t predict what’s going to happen. I know people with fancy fish tanks and the fish never seem to last more than a month. In high school, I won a goldfish at the fair and it lived for years in just a bowl. It was some kind of super industrial goldfish or something.

Yesterday the older girls started going to the humane society’s kid club. They look at the animals and play games, and sometimes they help make toys or boxes for the animals. It’s for the kids who aren’t old enough to help with the animals, but still want to do something. They had a great time, except that Natalie didn’t want to go in the dog room. There’s a giant black lab with a very loud bark. So I guess she decided to wait for everyone outside.

In any case, when it was time to go, I noticed a tank of two hermit crabs, $5. I asked at the desk if they came with their little tank habitat, or if it was just the crabs. Oh you can take the tank, they said. It’s pretty much a hermit crab starter kit. For $5. Complete with a little pretend coconut house. One of the volunteers happened to be another one of the teachers for Ella’s grade at her school, and they had also done a hermit crab study. She left me feeling like it didn’t HAVE to be that big of a deal. We just need to mist some water in the tank from time to time. She made it seem a little more doable. And aside from the “adoption fee,” we’d just need to buy a tank heater. Maybe. When it gets to be winter again.

I think it’d be a good project for the older girls. And really, Ella did just study them for weeks at school. She seems to know all about what they’d need. Plus, I really think we could use it to our advantage. “If you don’t get your room incredibly clean, the hermit crabs are going to have to move to someone else’s house.”

Do you have hermit crabs at your house? Any tips? I’ve heard they’re nocturnal, so they won’t be living in any of our very light sleeper bedrooms. Anyone want to place a bet on how long til Zoey tries to eat one?

RTT: Hey, look at me! Blogging!


I’ve missed the Random Tuesday Thoughts after all this quietness. So here it is:

  • It was my birthday. A month ago. On Easter. I’m not a huge fan of an Easter birthday. While in my heart I know there’s no better gift than Jesus conquering death for my life, there’s a little part of me that spends the day saying, “What about me? More me!” I’m just being honest. Big picture vs. Little picture. Big picture wins, but Little picture is still there. Yes, I am working on getting over myself.
  • Zoey is still refusing to say “mama” but she’s happy to scream “Daddy!!” at the top of her lungs at any given time. She’s also really enjoying coloring. Especially when we leave the room and she can have a crayon snack. And that is why I have been thankful for non-toxic crayons. But I’d rather have her eat crayons than the fireplace rock she’d been munching on a few weeks before.
  • I had a weird skin pain. It turned out that I was hoarding so much stress in my back (kudos to my friend Carol on the term for being a “stress hoarder”), the knots were starting to mess with my nerves. I’m now undergoing a series of bi-weekly deep tissue massages. Maybe someday they’ll be relaxing. Right now it just plain hurts. I scheduled the first one for an hour, and the moment my massage therapist touched my back she said, “Oh no. We’re going to have to work up to an hour. There’s too much here. Way too much.” But after the last one I only needed one handful of ibuprofen the next day! It seems to be improving, so HOORAY! It’s good to feel better, even if it’s bit by bit, knot by knot. And it’s good to know what was going on, because it sure felt like shingles. By the way, this made me feel very old.
  • I had to sign the girls up for summer school the other day. I never really like figuring out the whole summer in April. But our summer school is awesome, so we’re doing it. This year the morning will be like boring regular school (aimed at keeping things fresh so they don’t lose half a year’s worth of information over the summer). Then the afternoon is fun school. They had options like Spanish, crochet, art, drama, sign language, etc, etc, etc. Summer school is 3 weeks, M-F, 8:30-2:15. Do you know what it’s going to cost me? $20. Total. $10 each. For 3 weeks of entertainment. 3 weeks of not hearing, “I’m bored!” Smack in the middle of summer. I love our school district.
  • I love seeing people take care of each other. I like watching Ellen give somebody a car who really needed it. I like watching people drop off a meal to the new baby’s family. I like watching people open the door for each other. Anything at all. It gives me warm fuzzies and hope. My friend Lora is now receiving hospice care at home. It’s been such a privilege to see her “Angel Sightings” blog posts. People are constantly dropping off meals, cleaning the chicken coop, taking her kids out clothes shopping, doing mending, mowing the yard, driving her to treatments – you name it. It’s been going on for almost 2 years. It just makes me so happy that people do that sort of thing for one another. That sometimes we get up from behind our computers and help out. I love it.

It’s good to be back randoming. See Stacy for more!