Irregardless of the fact I’m boring to the point even the skeletons in my closet are yawning, Michelle has tagged me to reveal five things most people don’t know about me. Just for fun I’m listing six: Five are true and one’s a lie. Cast your votes for the falsehood, after which I’ll reveal all—including Michelle’s secret top three. Just kidding on the latter (breathe Michelle) . . . I’m not actually privy to such.
1. I graduated from David Letterman’s alma mater. Since you cannot have a gradepoint average greater than a C, I didn’t qualify for a David Letterman scholarship. And because I have always been kind of your basic B student, I didn’t qualify for too many academic scholarships either. I paid for my education the old fashioned way—work study program and student loans. Go Cardinals!
2. But I did once win a scholarship to sing and dance at a show choir camp. The choreographer was the genius behind the really cool Dr. Pepper commercials way back in the day. Since I’m pretty sure the camps were really fronts for finding new commercial talent, and since they FAILED to cast me doing backflips and singing I’m a pepper—I guess I lacked that certain pizzazz . . . not to mention the fact I’ve never been able to actually do a backflip. I’m over it. I don’t even LIKE Dr. Pepper!
3. I married up. David is way smarter than me. Though I occasionally beat him at a game of scrabble, it is only because I RELIGIOUSLY study the scrabble dictionary.
4. Once in a cold, stark gray cement room with a lone florescent, buzzing overhead light, I was interrogated by the KGB and actually spent three hours in a Russian jail.
5. Including random and complete strangers in second and third-world countries, I’ve been proposed to a total of seven times.
6. I was once invited to dine (black-tie) at the White House . . . which later turned out to be only hors d’oeuvres . . . which even later turned out to be only a tour of the White House Christmas decorations. Even though I paid dearly for the dress our beloved First Family never got to see, it was one of the best weekends of my life.
I tag Ginger, Karen, Molly and Shanygne.
Thursday, November 30, 2006
Wednesday, November 29, 2006
The Budding Photographer
Cole: (age 3) Mom, quick, I need your camera!
Me: Why is that Cole?
Cole: I want to take a picture of Max and Ruby!
Me: Why is that Cole?
Cole: I want to take a picture of Max and Ruby!
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Dinnertime Details
Over the weekend we purchased a really great highchair. By the time you get to child number four, you kind of figure out what’s great and what’s not so great in baby paraphernalia. I won’t bore you with my lists of what works and what doesn’t, but suffice it to say—I LOVE this highchair.
Even though Nicholas is only three months old, he can sit in it safely and even join us at the dinner table . . . which he did last night for the very first time. While David was saying grace, Cole interrupted quite loudly with, “Hey Guys!!”
Me: “Cole, what is it? We’re praying.”
Cole: “Nicholas didn’t close his eyes!”
Even though Nicholas is only three months old, he can sit in it safely and even join us at the dinner table . . . which he did last night for the very first time. While David was saying grace, Cole interrupted quite loudly with, “Hey Guys!!”
Me: “Cole, what is it? We’re praying.”
Cole: “Nicholas didn’t close his eyes!”
Monday, November 27, 2006
Everybody Needs A Favorite
Ice cream isn’t one of my more favorite foods, which is probably why you seldom see it in our freezer. The other day Cole was watching one of his beloved shows on television. When Zee asked, “What is your favorite flavor of ice cream?” the following interaction ensued.
Cole: “Mom, what is my favorite flavor of ice cream?”
Me: “I don’t know Cole. Do you like chocolate ice cream?”
Cole: “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.”
This of course made me realize I’m a really bad mom . . . and it also resulted in my first purchase of chocolate ice cream—Cole’s new favorite!
Cole: “Mom, what is my favorite flavor of ice cream?”
Me: “I don’t know Cole. Do you like chocolate ice cream?”
Cole: “I don’t know. I’ve never tried it.”
This of course made me realize I’m a really bad mom . . . and it also resulted in my first purchase of chocolate ice cream—Cole’s new favorite!
Friday, November 24, 2006
So Happy Together
Jonathan got to spend the night with his cousins the night before Thanksgiving. Cole had a very hard time with him being gone.
Last night Jonathan was back in his own bed . . . we found Cole there as well.
Last night Jonathan was back in his own bed . . . we found Cole there as well.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Happy Thanksgiving!
I love Thanksgiving. It was the night before Thanksgiving fourteen years ago when David and I had our first date. Funny how one little decision affects so many others. We are so thankful for the many ways God has blessed us.
We hope your Thanksgiving is filled with good food, lots of fun and thankful hearts.
We hope your Thanksgiving is filled with good food, lots of fun and thankful hearts.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
Calling All Geeks!
Tis almost the season to be decking the halls. Instead I’m stuck in a computer induced pity party whining woe is me. Google HATES me! Every time I click in to Goggle-owned sites, my computer freeeeeezes up! And now many of my daily reads are switching to Blogger in Beta—owned by Google!!
This does not make my world merry. Can anyone help? Why is my computer allergic to Google? I’m getting weary of doing the force-quit thing.
Since Google is buying up everything related to revenue in the blogasphere (oh to own their stock), I really need to figure this out. According to the sidebar site meter there are over a hundred of you clicking in each day. Are any of you geek-enough to solve mylittle, frustrating, I want to throw my computer off the roof, issue?
My computer is a Mac OS X version 10.4 with a Safari browser and I’m using AOL dial-up. Though I’m guessing dial-up is the most likely culprit, I’m really hoping it’s not. Since we live in themiddle of freaking nowhere, beautiful, quaint countryside, the only way we can get high-speed internet is to mortgage the farm . . . and we don’t actually own a farm.
So come on Geeks. Pleeeaaase click the comment button bringing glad tidings my way. Educate me in the finer details of blogging bliss and save my computer from demise!
This does not make my world merry. Can anyone help? Why is my computer allergic to Google? I’m getting weary of doing the force-quit thing.
Since Google is buying up everything related to revenue in the blogasphere (oh to own their stock), I really need to figure this out. According to the sidebar site meter there are over a hundred of you clicking in each day. Are any of you geek-enough to solve my
My computer is a Mac OS X version 10.4 with a Safari browser and I’m using AOL dial-up. Though I’m guessing dial-up is the most likely culprit, I’m really hoping it’s not. Since we live in the
So come on Geeks. Pleeeaaase click the comment button bringing glad tidings my way. Educate me in the finer details of blogging bliss and save my computer from demise!
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
Sometimes You’ve Got To Settle
Usually the sun is barely up by the time Cole wants to be out the door driving one of his many vehicles. The other day, before he was even dressed, I found him in the garage musing over his myriad of choices.
“Which one do you want to start with?” I asked.
Cole: I want to drive your van, Mom.
Me: Cole, you know you’re too little to drive Mommy’s van!
Cole: Okay, I’ll drive Daddy’s car.
Me: Cole, you know you’re too little to drive Daddy’s car!
Cole: Okay (with resignation) . . . I’ll drive my Corvette.
“Which one do you want to start with?” I asked.
Cole: I want to drive your van, Mom.
Me: Cole, you know you’re too little to drive Mommy’s van!
Cole: Okay, I’ll drive Daddy’s car.
Me: Cole, you know you’re too little to drive Daddy’s car!
Cole: Okay (with resignation) . . . I’ll drive my Corvette.
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Salt And Pepper
These dogs have been at our house for about a week. They came hungry, dirty and collarless. I’m thinking someone dropped them off.
Our kids have become quite attached and already have them named. Why do things like this always seem to happen to us!!?
One could not accurately place David or I in the category of “dog lovers.” We have actually paid large amounts of money for dogs and then later given them to, uh um better dog homes? We’re not so good with pets, but of course, these dogs have already wormed their way into Ashley, Jonathan and Cole’s hearts.
They bark at night, they desperately need a bath, but all in all they are rather sweet.
So pleeeaaase, if they are yours—or if you simply want them—rescue us from becoming dog owners again!
Our kids have become quite attached and already have them named. Why do things like this always seem to happen to us!!?
One could not accurately place David or I in the category of “dog lovers.” We have actually paid large amounts of money for dogs and then later given them to, uh um better dog homes? We’re not so good with pets, but of course, these dogs have already wormed their way into Ashley, Jonathan and Cole’s hearts.
They bark at night, they desperately need a bath, but all in all they are rather sweet.
So pleeeaaase, if they are yours—or if you simply want them—rescue us from becoming dog owners again!
Monday, November 13, 2006
Reason Number 457
. . . of why I love my husband!
Last night we were on our way to a birthday party for one of Jonathan’s friends when we passed two young girls on the side of the road with a flat tire. Even though we were running late, David turned around to see if they needed help.
We knew they were probably among the 700 or so teenagers David feels very fatherly toward. But even when they’re not, David always stops when someone needs help. I can’t even tell you how many times he has pushed a stalled car out of the middle of four lanes of traffic, provided a jump or use of his cell phone.
As it turned out, they didn’t have a jack—and they were interns. David changed the tire very quickly, and we made it to the party in just enough time to be fashionably late.
I love it that David always has time to lend a hand.
Last night we were on our way to a birthday party for one of Jonathan’s friends when we passed two young girls on the side of the road with a flat tire. Even though we were running late, David turned around to see if they needed help.
We knew they were probably among the 700 or so teenagers David feels very fatherly toward. But even when they’re not, David always stops when someone needs help. I can’t even tell you how many times he has pushed a stalled car out of the middle of four lanes of traffic, provided a jump or use of his cell phone.
As it turned out, they didn’t have a jack—and they were interns. David changed the tire very quickly, and we made it to the party in just enough time to be fashionably late.
I love it that David always has time to lend a hand.
Saturday, November 11, 2006
Friday, November 10, 2006
The Negotiator
Chuck E. Cheese’s is overpriced and the food is less than mediocre . . . but my kid’s love it.
So a few days ago when the kids were out of school for fall break and since David had the day off, we decided to take them to Chuck E. Cheese’s for lunch. My sister and her daughter met us there.
After buying a boatload of pizza and tokens, my sister and I noticed we could have used a coupon and DOUBLED the amount of tokens being devoured by all the games and rides our kids were drawn to.
Knowing if anyone could make it happen—David could. Would he be able to turn that coupon into coveted tokens?
After a little arm twisting, David approached the manager with, “I have been nominated to humiliate myself. Can we cash in this coupon we forgot to use earlier?”
The manager agreed it was worth the humiliation and doubled our kids’ fun. Gotta love a dad who is willing to negotiate!
So a few days ago when the kids were out of school for fall break and since David had the day off, we decided to take them to Chuck E. Cheese’s for lunch. My sister and her daughter met us there.
After buying a boatload of pizza and tokens, my sister and I noticed we could have used a coupon and DOUBLED the amount of tokens being devoured by all the games and rides our kids were drawn to.
Knowing if anyone could make it happen—David could. Would he be able to turn that coupon into coveted tokens?
After a little arm twisting, David approached the manager with, “I have been nominated to humiliate myself. Can we cash in this coupon we forgot to use earlier?”
The manager agreed it was worth the humiliation and doubled our kids’ fun. Gotta love a dad who is willing to negotiate!
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Politics Smolitics
Sheeeish . . . back to Mommy blogging for me. Didn’t mean to cause such a stir.
I had my days of controversy in college and before I was married. Between being a card carrying member of Green Peace, Amnesty International and the Democratic Party (and born-again), well I’ve had more than enough of my fair share of debates and being called names unmentionable here. I hung that hat up long ago.
I feel no need to convince others of my personal opinions—if you’re uninformed, let me direct you to the Fox News Channel, The Drudge Report
and Michelle Malkin. And if you really want to have a good time, tune into three hours of Rush each day. (If you download him onto your ipod, you can listen commercial free!)
For the record, there are several Democrats (okay maybe only a few) I greatly admire and would get my vote in a heartbeat were they in my district. But I also am so saddened by the way the Democratic Party has seemingly lost it’s way. Most people don’t even realize how many Democrats in office have switched over the years from being pro-life to pro-choice . . . following the party instead of their convictions.
I am saddened about the election results because I love President Bush—personally I feel deeply indebted to this man of morals, principles and courage. My children and their children are indebted too. I greatly admire him for the tenacious way he is holding the line in the war on terror. I think he could be far more effective in the next two years if he had the House and Senate voting with him.
I am so deeply thankful for our men and women in uniform and am saddened to see Rummy go. He is a hero to me as well.
So let the comments roll. This is your last chance as this is my LAST post dealing with anything remotely resembling politics . . . and you don’t even want to get me started on the media! That would be ugly.
I had my days of controversy in college and before I was married. Between being a card carrying member of Green Peace, Amnesty International and the Democratic Party (and born-again), well I’ve had more than enough of my fair share of debates and being called names unmentionable here. I hung that hat up long ago.
I feel no need to convince others of my personal opinions—if you’re uninformed, let me direct you to the Fox News Channel, The Drudge Report
and Michelle Malkin. And if you really want to have a good time, tune into three hours of Rush each day. (If you download him onto your ipod, you can listen commercial free!)
For the record, there are several Democrats (okay maybe only a few) I greatly admire and would get my vote in a heartbeat were they in my district. But I also am so saddened by the way the Democratic Party has seemingly lost it’s way. Most people don’t even realize how many Democrats in office have switched over the years from being pro-life to pro-choice . . . following the party instead of their convictions.
I am saddened about the election results because I love President Bush—personally I feel deeply indebted to this man of morals, principles and courage. My children and their children are indebted too. I greatly admire him for the tenacious way he is holding the line in the war on terror. I think he could be far more effective in the next two years if he had the House and Senate voting with him.
I am so deeply thankful for our men and women in uniform and am saddened to see Rummy go. He is a hero to me as well.
So let the comments roll. This is your last chance as this is my LAST post dealing with anything remotely resembling politics . . . and you don’t even want to get me started on the media! That would be ugly.
Wednesday, November 08, 2006
The Inevitable
Some things in life cannot be helped.
Like when Jonathan was in kindergarten. He wore his brand new winter coat to school and spilled orange juice on it. Someone tried to be helpful by putting it in a sealed plastic bag for the journey home. Unfortunately, Jonathan accidentally left it in the class coat closet over the weekend. By the time I even learned of the mishap, the coat was covered in mildew. If you’re a mom, you know—the once cute coat was ruined forever. Sigh.
And then we have sad days like today. I guess it was inevitable. Between the war in Iraq, countless scandal, fiscal irresponsibility and the fact we still don’t have tight reins on the border . . . we lost the House. And who knows, the Senate might go as well.
A sad day. A day deserved. We reap what we sow. Sigh.
Maybe two years of disaster will help us get a little smarter in 2008!
Like when Jonathan was in kindergarten. He wore his brand new winter coat to school and spilled orange juice on it. Someone tried to be helpful by putting it in a sealed plastic bag for the journey home. Unfortunately, Jonathan accidentally left it in the class coat closet over the weekend. By the time I even learned of the mishap, the coat was covered in mildew. If you’re a mom, you know—the once cute coat was ruined forever. Sigh.
And then we have sad days like today. I guess it was inevitable. Between the war in Iraq, countless scandal, fiscal irresponsibility and the fact we still don’t have tight reins on the border . . . we lost the House. And who knows, the Senate might go as well.
A sad day. A day deserved. We reap what we sow. Sigh.
Maybe two years of disaster will help us get a little smarter in 2008!
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Let The Games Begin
Last night was Ashley’s first basketball game—the first of the season; the first of her life.
By no small stretch she was the smallest one on the court. Though the contenders outsized the Warriors by about a foot per player, our girls brought down the house 42 to 2.
While David refereed the game, Cole cheered from the sidelines—pom poms and all. Ashley played her heart out proving she belongs among the small but mighty. And Cole . . .
Well lets just say he is presidential!
By no small stretch she was the smallest one on the court. Though the contenders outsized the Warriors by about a foot per player, our girls brought down the house 42 to 2.
While David refereed the game, Cole cheered from the sidelines—pom poms and all. Ashley played her heart out proving she belongs among the small but mighty. And Cole . . .
Well lets just say he is presidential!
Monday, November 06, 2006
Call Me . . .
Lately I’ve been thinking about Sarah. She had a son late in life.
Though I’m not yet 91, I have noticed many young friends of ours are pregnant . . . and I’m old enough to be their mother. I don’t dwell on this, but sometimes it smacks me in the face.
When the woman behind the pharmacy counter asked if Nicholas was my grandson, I was able to laugh it off. She was older—maybe her eyesight was failing . . . just a mistake.
But then, not 20 minutes later at the new Chinese restaurant, when our young waitress asked the same thing—well frankly it had all been building up and we had Niagara Falls.
So that brings me back to Sarah. Was it ever rough going? Did stupid questions ever reduce her to tears? My suspicion is no. Baby Isaac was such a joy and gift from God, everything else around her paled. She called herself richly blessed and said the Lord had given her laughter.
Such truth. Nicholas is a precious and unexpected gift. I am so overwhemingly thankful to have him. So call me grandma; call me old . . . and call me Michelle if anyone invites you to a botox party!
But most of all, call me overflowing, richly blessed and full of laughter—for that is what I am.
Though I’m not yet 91, I have noticed many young friends of ours are pregnant . . . and I’m old enough to be their mother. I don’t dwell on this, but sometimes it smacks me in the face.
When the woman behind the pharmacy counter asked if Nicholas was my grandson, I was able to laugh it off. She was older—maybe her eyesight was failing . . . just a mistake.
But then, not 20 minutes later at the new Chinese restaurant, when our young waitress asked the same thing—well frankly it had all been building up and we had Niagara Falls.
So that brings me back to Sarah. Was it ever rough going? Did stupid questions ever reduce her to tears? My suspicion is no. Baby Isaac was such a joy and gift from God, everything else around her paled. She called herself richly blessed and said the Lord had given her laughter.
Such truth. Nicholas is a precious and unexpected gift. I am so overwhemingly thankful to have him. So call me grandma; call me old . . . and call me Michelle if anyone invites you to a botox party!
But most of all, call me overflowing, richly blessed and full of laughter—for that is what I am.
Friday, November 03, 2006
Sleep Deprivation
This sweet little guy is the reason I’m feeling rather melancholy—I’m exhausted!
For diversion (and because it fits my mood) I’ve been listening to Paul McCartney’s new classical CD Behold My Heart.
Though Nicholas has been sleeping pretty well (seven hour stretches), I have become far too acquainted with 3:00am. I think if I could sleep for 12 hours, uninterrupted for about 3 weeks straight . . . maybe I would start feeling like my normal self again.
But until then let’s hear it for great music . . . and caffeine!
For diversion (and because it fits my mood) I’ve been listening to Paul McCartney’s new classical CD Behold My Heart.
Though Nicholas has been sleeping pretty well (seven hour stretches), I have become far too acquainted with 3:00am. I think if I could sleep for 12 hours, uninterrupted for about 3 weeks straight . . . maybe I would start feeling like my normal self again.
But until then let’s hear it for great music . . . and caffeine!
Tuesday, October 31, 2006
Join Us!
Today is a special day of prayer and fasting for Noah Steven.
Join us, and people all around the world, in any way you can. We’re asking God for a special miracle today!
Wouldn’t that be perfect on halloween?!
Join us, and people all around the world, in any way you can. We’re asking God for a special miracle today!
Wouldn’t that be perfect on halloween?!
Monday, October 30, 2006
October Fun
The best way to eat a hogdog:
Take a bite out of the hotdog, then a bite out of the bun. Repeat until both are finished.
At least that’s the way Cole does it!
Take a bite out of the hotdog, then a bite out of the bun. Repeat until both are finished.
At least that’s the way Cole does it!
Saturday, October 28, 2006
Thursday, October 26, 2006
Love Is Kind
Nicholas, Cole and I were just leaving Walmart when the alarm went off. The older gentleman who always greets us at the door came over to check our loot. He asked if I had purchased any watches. I responded that as a matter of fact I had purchased two—getting an early jump on the Christmas rush!
He wouldn’t have had to mention it, but he did. His wife passed away in February . . . he wondered what Christmas would be like this year.
Such a sad note in his voice. Usually I see him only with a smile on his face. I expressed my sympathy at his loss.
After he gave us clearance, I walked into the parking lot with a heavy heart. So much hurt in the world—only One who can heal the brokenhearted.
As I loaded Cole and Nicholas in the van, I prayed for this sweet man. He has become a regular in my weekly routine. Maybe next time I will find more words than my usual, “hello”.
He wouldn’t have had to mention it, but he did. His wife passed away in February . . . he wondered what Christmas would be like this year.
Such a sad note in his voice. Usually I see him only with a smile on his face. I expressed my sympathy at his loss.
After he gave us clearance, I walked into the parking lot with a heavy heart. So much hurt in the world—only One who can heal the brokenhearted.
As I loaded Cole and Nicholas in the van, I prayed for this sweet man. He has become a regular in my weekly routine. Maybe next time I will find more words than my usual, “hello”.
Wednesday, October 25, 2006
Warning: Serious Bragging Here
Yesterday I spilled bright cranberry nail polish on the carpet in my office. It wasn’t a little droplet or a small smudge . . . no, it was a hugely gargantuan, let’s start crying, ghastly blob covering the span of nearly 16 inches!
Smack dap in the middle of the room—no way to cover it with the desk or even my desk chair! It just stared at me with evil in it’s sticky red tentacles. Even Cole, with an exaggerated sing-songish voice, felt the need to inform me of my plight: “Mommy, I think you’re going to get in trouble.”
After considering the fact I really had nothing to lose (the carpet was pretty much ruined if left as was) I grabbed the first cleaning supply I could find in my nearby laundry room.
I don’t own their stock and I’m not making money on any hidden advertisements—but you’re gonna want to write this down: Mr. Clean’s Multi-purpose Cleaner (the orange one).
Though I had only used this product previously to mop my kitchen and bathroom floors, I POURED large amounts directly onto the stain and then scrubbed.
Much to my surprise my efforts were not in vain—the seemingly already dried mess was disappearing! I added a great deal of water as the soap suds was becoming quite dense. Then I simply vacuumed it all up with my Little Green Machine.
Although some might find it hard to believe (especially if you’ve ever spilled nail polish on carpet), that bright cranberry nail polish stain is COMPLETELY gone!
Who knew?! I have talent after all!!
(With a little help from Procter & Gamble)
Smack dap in the middle of the room—no way to cover it with the desk or even my desk chair! It just stared at me with evil in it’s sticky red tentacles. Even Cole, with an exaggerated sing-songish voice, felt the need to inform me of my plight: “Mommy, I think you’re going to get in trouble.”
After considering the fact I really had nothing to lose (the carpet was pretty much ruined if left as was) I grabbed the first cleaning supply I could find in my nearby laundry room.
I don’t own their stock and I’m not making money on any hidden advertisements—but you’re gonna want to write this down: Mr. Clean’s Multi-purpose Cleaner (the orange one).
Though I had only used this product previously to mop my kitchen and bathroom floors, I POURED large amounts directly onto the stain and then scrubbed.
Much to my surprise my efforts were not in vain—the seemingly already dried mess was disappearing! I added a great deal of water as the soap suds was becoming quite dense. Then I simply vacuumed it all up with my Little Green Machine.
Although some might find it hard to believe (especially if you’ve ever spilled nail polish on carpet), that bright cranberry nail polish stain is COMPLETELY gone!
Who knew?! I have talent after all!!
(With a little help from Procter & Gamble)
Tuesday, October 24, 2006
Such A Generous Soul
Cole came in from playing outside and asked for a piece of bread.
Surprised I asked, “Without peanut butter or jelly?”
“Yes,” he said. “Just a plain piece of bread—I’m feeding the ants!”
Surprised I asked, “Without peanut butter or jelly?”
“Yes,” he said. “Just a plain piece of bread—I’m feeding the ants!”
Sunday, October 22, 2006
Thirteen Years Ago Today . . .
The majestic brilliant colors of Colorado seemed jubilant in praise as afternoon was slowly drifting into dusk. The Rocky mountains glistened as the western sun showered the front range with her last lingering rays of glorious radiance. Slowly we drove toward a favorite place overlooking a picturesque scene quite similar to a view from that famous, beloved musical where the hills are alive. Just to the east all of Denver could be seen as if this city of a million plus was nothing more than a quaint little village out of Dr. Seuss’ tale of how the Grinch stole Christmas.
Clasping my hand in his, David led me up the mountain path that lay before us. Reading from Proverbs 31 he described all the ways in which he cherished me.
Suddenly in our ascent, a small delicate obstruction interrupted our journey: A perfect crimson rose standing tall between a myriad of carefully placed rocks (I was beginning to get suspicious). David reached down and picked up the rose expressing his surprise to find such a treasure of beauty on this lone path we were treading—carefully noting it’s symbolic significance.
With delight I took the rose as my heart beat faster realizing this might not turn out to be just a casual stroll. David then directed my eyes just slightly of to the left where three other roses just like the first, created a small path into the brush. Taking a few steps to pick up each rose, I stumbled onto an entire bouquet of roses. We continued up the incline when it suddenly became apparent to my wondering eyes—the entire mountain was filled with carefully placed roses!
By the time we reached our destination of a seat of rocks on which to rest, I had no less than one hundred roses in my arms! Sitting together we bowed our heads in prayer. It was a holy moment. A hush filled the air in the grandeur around us. It seemed as if the angels leaned in close to listen.
Taking my hands in his, David asked me that ageless question a heart in love longs to hear, “Beth, will you marry me?” My mind whirled with the many words my brain had learned with which I could answer: da (Russian), duai (Chinese), ah-cha (Hindi), te-ke (Urdu), e-ye (Kazakh) . . . finally without further hesitation my mind came into focus and English would simply have to suffice—YES!
Clasping my hand in his, David led me up the mountain path that lay before us. Reading from Proverbs 31 he described all the ways in which he cherished me.
Suddenly in our ascent, a small delicate obstruction interrupted our journey: A perfect crimson rose standing tall between a myriad of carefully placed rocks (I was beginning to get suspicious). David reached down and picked up the rose expressing his surprise to find such a treasure of beauty on this lone path we were treading—carefully noting it’s symbolic significance.
With delight I took the rose as my heart beat faster realizing this might not turn out to be just a casual stroll. David then directed my eyes just slightly of to the left where three other roses just like the first, created a small path into the brush. Taking a few steps to pick up each rose, I stumbled onto an entire bouquet of roses. We continued up the incline when it suddenly became apparent to my wondering eyes—the entire mountain was filled with carefully placed roses!
By the time we reached our destination of a seat of rocks on which to rest, I had no less than one hundred roses in my arms! Sitting together we bowed our heads in prayer. It was a holy moment. A hush filled the air in the grandeur around us. It seemed as if the angels leaned in close to listen.
Taking my hands in his, David asked me that ageless question a heart in love longs to hear, “Beth, will you marry me?” My mind whirled with the many words my brain had learned with which I could answer: da (Russian), duai (Chinese), ah-cha (Hindi), te-ke (Urdu), e-ye (Kazakh) . . . finally without further hesitation my mind came into focus and English would simply have to suffice—YES!
Friday, October 20, 2006
In God’s Hands
True confession: I’m a news junkie.
Most days the news can be a downer, but as of late it can be overwhelmingly bleak. If you’re tuned in you know—it seems as if the whole world has gone awry. Can’t help but wish my kids were growing up in a safer world.
I was thinking about the dismal state of affairs when a memory, almost forgotten, came flooding back.
After college I left my beloved state of Indiana for California—not exactly known for hometown hospitality or a low incidence of crime. My parents were more than a little nervous about this arrangement, but the way my mom always says it, they were “putting me in God’s hands.”
The day after I arrived I attended Jack Hayford’s congregation, Church on the Way with some friends. Even though there were over 6000 people in attendance, my parents actually caught a glimpse of me walking up the aisle toward my seat—they were watching the pre-recorded service that evening in their living room, 2200 miles away! My dad yelled out, “There’s Beth—turn on the VCR!”
Who knows what they were taping over, but in the fury of the moment they quickly hit record and now have a permanent reminder that God cares about the details.
Pastor Hayford is known for asking his congregation to turn to their neighbor and “tell them such and such, or ask them this or that.” Had an angel directed me to my seat? Am I magnetically drawn to TV cameras? This I don’t know. But several times throughout the service, while I obediently did just what Pastor Hayford asked, well the cameras rolled . . . and I was their spotlight.
Now that I’m a parent, I’m guessing that random, what’s-the-chances moment in time did my parents a world of good. It was like God was saying, “See, I am holding her in My hands.”
That particular tape is just collecting dust somewhere among the many in my parent’s guestroom closet. Yet even today the message resonates—though God is well aware of the nuclear activity of North Korea and the sneaky terrorist exploits of Iran, there is really only one safe place to reside . . . In His hands.
Most days the news can be a downer, but as of late it can be overwhelmingly bleak. If you’re tuned in you know—it seems as if the whole world has gone awry. Can’t help but wish my kids were growing up in a safer world.
I was thinking about the dismal state of affairs when a memory, almost forgotten, came flooding back.
After college I left my beloved state of Indiana for California—not exactly known for hometown hospitality or a low incidence of crime. My parents were more than a little nervous about this arrangement, but the way my mom always says it, they were “putting me in God’s hands.”
The day after I arrived I attended Jack Hayford’s congregation, Church on the Way with some friends. Even though there were over 6000 people in attendance, my parents actually caught a glimpse of me walking up the aisle toward my seat—they were watching the pre-recorded service that evening in their living room, 2200 miles away! My dad yelled out, “There’s Beth—turn on the VCR!”
Who knows what they were taping over, but in the fury of the moment they quickly hit record and now have a permanent reminder that God cares about the details.
Pastor Hayford is known for asking his congregation to turn to their neighbor and “tell them such and such, or ask them this or that.” Had an angel directed me to my seat? Am I magnetically drawn to TV cameras? This I don’t know. But several times throughout the service, while I obediently did just what Pastor Hayford asked, well the cameras rolled . . . and I was their spotlight.
Now that I’m a parent, I’m guessing that random, what’s-the-chances moment in time did my parents a world of good. It was like God was saying, “See, I am holding her in My hands.”
That particular tape is just collecting dust somewhere among the many in my parent’s guestroom closet. Yet even today the message resonates—though God is well aware of the nuclear activity of North Korea and the sneaky terrorist exploits of Iran, there is really only one safe place to reside . . . In His hands.
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