My Very Crummy No Good Bad Day

Bill tapped the power button off on our CD alarm as we tried to steal a few more minutes of sleep. It wasn’t to be as Ulie unlatched the barn door (it’s really very much a barn door) that leads into our room and said, “I want out…Daddy, I’m doo-doo. Daddy, I’m doo-doo, Daddy…”

“Okay, Ulie, I’ll change your diaper.” Bill sleepily replied.

I always feel just a moderate quantity of guilt when Bill has to get up before I do and cares for the boys as I lay in bed earnestly trying to get up but not moving a muscle. He’s the money-maker so I should be busily preparing breakfast long in advance of him getting into the shower. I don’t and he’s patient and forgiving enough to never let me know if this bothers him.

So, this morning I decided to handle the boys, both of whom needed diaper changes in the most urgent and desperate way. I retrieved Aulay’s diaper and Ulie’s underpants and noticed that the bucket of wipes was perilously light…I’ll have to make more, later. So, somehow, I managed to clean both bottoms with three wipes between them, not much different than cleaning an oil barge spill with a few cotton balls, actually.

“Honey, don’t forget to call the city to have them pick up our trash,” Bill reminded me, before the “See ya, Honey *kiss* I love you,” ritual.

Our trash bin was beyond overflowing and we’ve had to pile nearly two weeks worth of garbage sacks on top and beside it on the street. I always feel like it’s going to get knocked over or torn apart by birds, cats, or opossums so it makes me nervous seeing it outside for very long.

It was a dire situation, then, when Bill left our driveway and I couldn’t locate our cordless phone. We have a phone on our printer/fax machine, but it ties me down and I hate not being able to continue a phone call while stopping Aulay from splashing his hand in the toilet or grabbing Ulie away from the glass pitcher that cracked when our refrigerator froze the water into ice. I pushed the “find hs (find handset)” button which beeped once, like normal, but bleeped after a short delay, not normal. I enlisted the girls to help me find it but to no avail. I called Bill to ask if he’d help me find it by calling us repeatedly. After about 5 repeated tries of having the wall set ring, not hearing the handset at all, the girls and I scrambling from room to room trying to hear it, and Aulay holding his hands over his ears and yelling, “I go- i !” (toddlerese for I GOT IT), I finally found the handset with the toys in the family room with an obviously dead battery. So I would have to make the call from the office after all that.

Somehow the kids were fed breakfast and released from the table and high chair to play in the family room. At least that’s where I expected them to be, where all their new toys from Christmas beckoned like neon Vegas lights. My wishful thinking was abruptly halted when I saw an Alfred Hitchcock DVD in his little hand. The TV combo was moved into our bedroom, yesterday, so I knew there had been an intrusion. After latching the barn door shut, again, I headed upstairs to check on Elizabeth and saw her with her schoolbooks and assignment sheets in disarray. I already struggle to understand her system but, today, I wasn’t interested in getting it. Seeing the gross disorganization of what should be the girls’ private retreat was the blinking red light as the arms folded down to block the path across the rails of the accelerating locomotive.

“I’ve had it!” I heard my voice cry out like a blaring train whistle.

My inner drill sergeant had awoken and it was time for Mommy Boot Camp.

Elizabeth was given strict instructions to organize her schoolwork while Murron was told that her Barbies wouldn’t see the light of day until her clothes were put where they belonged. Even the boys with their deer-in-headlights countenances were commanded to clean their room which had stuffed toys strewn about, bedding rumpled in various corners, and clothes out of drawers. Ulie and Aulay meekly began to put things away. I left them to their work after remarking how good a job they were doing.

That’s when I was inspired to create movie tickets that the kids could earn by keeping their rooms clean, the toys put away, and by helping with laundry and dishes. I reasoned that it wouldn’t take me very long and the kids seemed occupied with their tasks. After finishing the simple document I clicked the print button. Nothing happened. After repeated tries, still nothing happened…I restarted the computer, I pushed the buttons on the printer, I turned the computer off, I turned off the power strip, I attempted everything I could imagine short of flipping all the switches in our breaker box on and off. Bill called to ask how things were going and, when I told him of the printing dilemma, he suggested that I jiggle the wires a little. Too simple, perhaps, but I was bereft of anything more original so, crawling under the computer table, I did just that.

It worked.

I’d be feeling almost totally satisfied, right now, if my sock wasn’t so wet because of stepping on the soggy washcloth the kids left on the bathroom floor.

Glory

And the children will lead them

So Glory, Elizabeth and I watched a movie last night that was a box office hit back in the '90s. Glory and Elizabeth had never seen it before. I remember it being billed as something the whole family could watch -- until those same families took their little ones to the big screen and traumatized them for life. I am sure many of those little tykes still are in counseling.

So, tonight, after the little ones went to bed, Elizabeth asked if we wanted to watch a movie, perhaps the same one. "Do you want to watch 'Jesuit Park?'" she asked.

Now, I thought the body count in "Jurassic Park" was bad enough, what with images of dinosaurs feasting on human flesh. But what horrors would await us watching overzealous priests terrorizing the bewildered natives and scientists of that same tropical island? It's too frightening to imagine.



So, today was the day after Christmas. The kids were playing with their toys, even toys they have had all their lives but didn't realize it until they dumped out the entire content of the toybox. Ulie brought his new-to-him treasure to the breakfast table this morning -- something I remember kicking around in high school. Glory tried to get Ulie to call it by its proper name instead of just a "ball."

"It's a ha-cky sack," Glory said, enuniciating the words very carefully.

"Haaapppy Sexxxx," our three-year-old said, with a broad smile on his cherubic face.

No amount of correction, albeit peppered with snickers on our part, would get Ulie to pronounce it properly. "HAPPY SEX! HAPPY SEX!" he shouted, while running and throwing the hacky sack around the dining room.

Perhaps if those crazed murderous Jesuits had a few hacky sacks around, and a few three-year-olds to tell them exactly what they were, they would not have felt the need to try to convert the world at the point of a sword.

Bill

Merry Christmas!

As I (Bill) write, we have at least a foot of snow on the ground, it’s freezing and light flakes are falling from a cloudy sky. After nearly seven years of living in the Pacific Northwest, the Craig family finally has experienced weather that is worthy of being called a snowstorm. Years past we haven’t had much snow, if any at all. This year it finally feels like winter, complete with everything in the community grinding to a halt. It’s as if people around here never have seen snowstorms before. Actually, they usually don’t! All this brings back many happy memories for Glory and me in Saskatchewan and Colorado of snowfalls, cold and silent nights, hot chocolate, and bundling up to go outside and play.

This year we had hoped for a slowed down version of 2007, but we found ourselves busier than ever.

Elizabeth turned 15 in August. She now is a freshman at our local home school/public school learning center. Elizabeth has taken part in a couple of youth group trips this year, had her braces removed in May, took part in a school musical in April and a community opera (“Amahl and the Night Visitors”) this month, and serves on the City Library Teen Advisory Board. She’s also in a writer’s group that meets at the library twice a month. She’s finding her niche, and Glory and I are very proud of her.

Murron will be six in February and is showing herself to be a very talented artist and little mommy. She often takes charge with her brothers by leading playtime activities and reminding them of the house rules. Murron has a very active imagination, and frequently plays with her “finger friends” who have their own very complicated world. Time and space doesn’t allow us to explain this fully. Someday she’ll write and illustrate a book series about them. Murron started kindergarten with the learning center this fall and has an insatiable desire to learn. Glory finds it challenging to keep up with her.

Uilleam (Ulie) turned three in September and started his collection of Thomas the Train gear. Don’t tell him this but he’s getting some more tracks on Christmas along with some more railway cars. He’s the busy boy and always needs to be doing something. Ulie is just about to graduate from a successful potty-training program, much to Glory and Bill’s (and their bank account’s) relief. Diapers are expensive for two kids! Ulie is a very literal boy. Elizabeth told him to watch his cup of milk when he was about to knock it over. He just held it and looked at it intently!

The second half of the Diaper Brothers is MacAulay, who now is 19 months old. He is by far the most social of all the kids. He’s learning to talk more, and is showing an enthusiastic interest in music. He’s our little head banger when more rocking tunes are playing around the house, but he can appreciate the classics, too. He especially likes accompanying his mom when she’s playing the piano. He watches everyone very closely, and is good at imitating us. Fortunately this hasn’t resulted in embarrassing moments for us; such is the clean lifestyle we live.

When she’s not trying her hand at being Supermom, Glory stays busy with other hobbies. She continues her work with our church worship team and leading worship for the annual ladies retreat in Winthrop, Wash. In June Glory's song "House of Love" was recorded again by her sister’s band. Glory recently reconnected with lots of long-lost friends via Facebook, some of whom have become fans of her music page. Glory also has shown off her culinary skills by providing meals for a four-day child passenger safety class of 15 people that Bill hosted in July. Glory was able to travel with Bill in Olympia in June for a Safe Kids conference, providing them both with much-needed couple time, which they rarely get anymore.

Bill has had a busy year that began in January with being sworn in by the mayor to the City Library board of trustees. Also in January Bill assumed the role of coalition coordinator for the local chapter of Safe Kids Worldwide. In fact, most of Bill’s travels this year involved Safe Kids. In February, Bill took Elizabeth to Washington, D.C. to get interviewed with Safe Kids about the family crash back on Nov. 25, 2003. You can see our story at www.skagitems.com/safekids.htm. While in D.C., Bill and Elizabeth toured the Capitol Building and the White House, too. It was fun for Elizabeth to see our nation’s capitol for the first time. Bill traveled back to Washington, D.C. in October for a week-long conference. Bill also became an elder in our church this fall, increasing his responsibilities that he takes very seriously as a family and church leader.

As a family, the Craigs have stayed busy by opening their home regularly for church game nights and during the holidays, too, to families that don’t have places to go. Folks enjoy our home, and we’re glad they do.

We didn’t get to visit our beloved coastline much this year, but managed to squeeze in a visit to Ocean Shores, Wash., on Mother’s Day. We flew kites and had a blast.

The highlight of the year was the annual Craig family vacation, this time to Saskatchewan and Wyoming, visiting family. This year marked the first-ever Funk Family reunion. All 1,000 of Glory’s relatives were there. We also got to see Bill’s mother and a sister and her family in Wyoming, for the first time in more than six years. Along the way we logged more than 3,000 miles in our van, and got to see Devil’s Tower in Wyoming, Mount Rushmore in South Dakota, and a HUGE Ukrainian Easter Egg in Vegreville, Alberta. We were dead tired when we got back home, but were glad to have been able to see everyone again.

All we can say about 2009 is that we’re planning a trip to Colorado in July. Stay tuned for details. Who knows what else the new year will bring?
We’re trying to slow down and enjoy the holidays now. So, from our snowy home to you, we wish you a Merry Christmas, Happy New Year and a blessing that God grants you peace and joy.

Love,
Bill, Glory, Elizabeth, Murron, Ulie, Aulay and Thumper (the rabbit)

See? We told you they're evil!

This is dedicated to all the dear old imposters who just can't seem to win over the tots who can sense the deception, the manipulations, and the outright LIES!!! Nice try, Santa baby, nice try...

This picture proves that this phenomenon isn't a recent one. Kids have been scared of Santa for a long, long time.

This guy looks like a poorly disguised terrorist! I'll bet he's packing all kinds of heat under that beard...

And this guy looks even more scared than the baby. Are the parents gone out to a movie? Are they coming back? Where are the PARENTS?!

Dad, would you get the kid off Santa's lap, already???

Was he plotting an abduction?

And...our personal favorite: Ho Ho HORRORS!

More Holiday Terrors to view.
Glory

Big Family

Bill and I have four kids. It's not a lot, to us, but sometimes relatives or friends we haven't seen in a long time chuckle, "Wow, you've been busy!" We generally smile and say, "Uh huh!" because, well, we have been...as we should be, right? Even passersby will raise their eyebrows in surprise when we march our little troop along sidewalks or store aisles. I've been tempted to say, loud enough to hear, "Now, let's find your parents, sweetie!" Bill has 5 siblings so he understands a bit of the "big family" stigma. I, on the other hand, have 14 siblings so I understand more of the "BIG FAMILY" stigma. The funny thing is that, as a little girl in school, I wondered what was wrong with these folks who couldn't manage to have more than two, three, or four kids. Poor diet? Disability?

Anyway, there are a few families in our church who have four or more kids, even young families. It's kind of nice being in company with people who understand what sheltering, feeding, clothing, and managing a little brood is all about. It takes a lot of patience and prayer. Bill told me that the first thing he expects from me when he comes home from work is that the kids are still alive. So far, I've been consistent, though there are days...like today, when I discovered that our normally well behaved little girl embellished her dresser with a dark furniture stain marker. A friend said recently, "That's why God made them cute." She was obviously just cute enough, and it helped that I could remove all traces of her artwork (it was very nicely done art, by the way) with nail polish remover and cotton balls.

It's hard to get a handle on everything, too. Like potty training our 3 year old who still hasn't managed to tell us before and not after he has to go potty. Who cares if he's still wearing diapers at 5 if I'm going to homeschool him anyway?!

So, it's nice when I get a little pat on the back from church friends who are taking the same journey with me through cracker crumbs in the sofa and doorway jungle gyms. It's like having a big family to come alongside us and nod their heads in genuine understanding. Of course, because they really do know what it's like to peel playdough off their best jeans and grapple with a squashed tube of lipstick before heading out on a rare date. Just make sure to tell me if there's a banana sticker on my backside before I leave, okay?

Glory

Being Thankful

Thanksgiving is upon us again.

It's a time to be thankful. I know that for many that is a hard concept because of the state of the economy, what's happening in the world and in our country and all that. But, being thankful is what we must be because God gives us plenty of reasons to be thankful, starting with that He died on the cross for our sins and rose again on the third day defeating death and hell. How thankful I am because I have access to God through Christ and can rest in knowing that I will be with Him one day.

My 11 other reasons to be thankful:

1. My wife and kids are with me and love me, and like me most of the time, too.
2. We are alive and well and healthly despite our various aches and pains.
3. I have a great job that at least through 2009 has been spared the budget-cutting ax.
4. We have a roof over our heads.
5. We have a great church where we worship freely and can exercise our beliefs without too much trouble.
6. We have family and friends.
7. We have food.
8. We have clothes.
9. We live in a good and safe community.
10. We have enough to share with others.
11. Despite our country becoming increasingly wicked, we live in a mostly-free country where we don't have to fear that thugs with a military junta are going to plunder my home, hurt or kill my family and basically cause me to fear for my very existence.

Remember on Thanksgiving that many, if not most of us, have it so good. Let us be grateful for that and gracious to others this week by sharing what you have by opening your home or helping out with feeding the homeless at a local food bank or church. You'll be even more thankful for doing so.

Bill.

Give US A King

I am not ashamed to admit that I voted for McCain, but I have to admit that we were given, yet again, two poor choices. It's unfortuate that our temporary problems with the economy caused people not to look at what our new president really stands for. But, seeing that he is going to be our president, we should pray for him as we're commanded to. Perhaps his heart can be changed on issues that destroy our country's fabric, like abortion.

But I also will say that the Republican party did not give people a reason to vote Republican. With that, I am reminded of the account when the Hebrews stopped wanting a theocracy and demanded a king. They were given no reason to stick with the status quo:

"Look, you are old, and your sons do not walk in your ways. Now make us a king to judge us like all the nations."
But the thing displeased Samuel when they said, "Give us a king to judge us." So Samuel prayed to the LORD.
"Now therefore, heed their voice. However, you shall solemnly forewarn them, and show them the behavior of the king who will reign over them."
So Samuel told all the words of the LORD to the people who asked him for a king.
And he said, "This will be the behavior of the king who will reign over you: He will take your sons and appoint [them] for his own chariots and [to be] his horsemen, and [some] will run before his chariots.
"And you will cry out in that day because of your king whom you have chosen for yourselves, and the LORD will not hear you in that day."
Nevertheless the people refused to obey the voice of Samuel; and they said, "No, but we will have a king over us. (I Samuel Chapter 8).

Yep, we've got our king. And it's our own fault. But, following history, Israel and Judah had a few good kings. I pray that despite our wickedness as a nation, God will move in the hearts of those who represent us and things really will turn around for the good in the USA. But it has to be God who leads us because people will just ruin our country, just as people have taken this country down the toilet during the past eight years, and just as people have ruined every other country that has graced the face of this earth.


Bill

See ya at my funeral

So a coworker told me today of one of her dad's coworkers who dropped dead yesterday at his desk. The event gave the dad some food for thought. One, life isn't guaranteed tomorrow, so one needs to live it well. And second, perhaps the grudges he had been holding against a relative isn't all that worth it. Perhaps a phone call to his brother he hasn't spoken to in two years was in order.

My sentiments exactly, I told my coworker. Grudges are evil and waste of time.

Too bad too many wait until it's too late.

I guess for them I just have to give them an invitation to my upcoming funeral. Too bad I won't be able to hear anything they might have to say. But for them, I hope the wait was worth it.


Bill

Lies, lies, lies

Yes, it's lying, er, election season. Thankfully all will be over soon, but until we wake up next Wednesday and prepare for life with Barack or John, we have to keep hearing more lies than a five-year-old can tell why he wasn't the one who robbed the cookie jar and played in the mud in his new clothes while eating those cookies and then tracked the mud and cookie crumbs in the house right into his bedroom.

While the evidence is obvious with sneaky five-year-olds, so too is the evidence of a sneaky former community organizer and his associations with left-wing hooligans. Funny how one person can tell bald face lies...and people believe him! Funny, too, how people will buy hook, line and sinker a politican's promises that he will give tax breaks to those making less than $250,000, or, sorry, $150,000, oops, less than $100,000, and smile, thanking the Messiah for the help. And what lies wouldn't be more attractive than FREE health care, FREE education, MORE teachers to provide that education, less taxes to pay for all this stuff and the promise of every chicken in a pot (oh, sorry, that was another liberal who said that).

Yes, I love election season; promises and bribes for votes. Don't get me wrong. I know my friends on the right are just as guilty. It's called vote-getting. But, I think when politicians pander to desperate people, focusing on current, but short-term difficulties while their real positions on welfare expansion, killing the unborn and increasing our government's power of intrusion in our lives gets ignored, it makes me really question the priorities of my countrymen.

Turning to the Bible, are we capable of selling out for a bowl of soup, like Esau? Are we willing to sell out for a leader who will take more, use his people and steal what's not his, like God warned what their king would be like when they demanded one instead of being ruled by God? I believe we are. We're no different than these.

We'll believe the lies if they make us feel better. But I have a sneaking suspicion that should those lies propel a certain Democrat into the White House, none of us will be feeling well in very short order. And then, like the Hebrews who sold out in the Wilderness, those who bought the lies will be screaming that they've been duped and they finally see the light. Too bad it will be too late.

Bill

Atypical Date

It was a spontaneous idea but that's what made it exciting and special. Bill had to make a trip down to Seattle and I decided I wanted to go along for the ride. We make good road trip pals and it's always good to get in some coupletime sans kids. So we pleaded with our friends to help out and, by 3:30 p.m. Bill and I were off.

We were on a mission, though. Terry, Bill’s boss, has had a relapse and now has end-stage leukemia. This also means he has to have a bone marrow transplant. At the stage he's in, the odds are not in his favor, but still, we know God can heal. At any rate, Bill was tasked with bringing fresh flowers and a care package filled with magazines, snacks, game books, and other things to help Terry, his wife and daughter, and other family caregivers pass the time more comfortably.

Terry is 55, is married to Beverly and has four grown children. He has been Bill’s immediate supervisor for about two years now, but he has worked with him teaching CPR for more than five. In fact, most of the material Bill presents in his classes he stole from Terry. I got my CPR card from Terry five years ago this fall. We have enjoyed many family meals or holiday meals at the office with Terry and other coworkers. We even spent Easter Sunday at his church this year with his family.

Bill and I arrived at the U of W Medical Center, where Terry's being treated via IV chemotherapy. It was Terry's daughter who greeted us and I hugged her gently. She is young, perhaps 20 or 21, and looks a lot like her dad. She informed us that Terry was a little feistier than usual, which makes him more aware of his pain, and might be testy and snappy with us. That would be his signal that he was done with the visit. Soon afterward Beverly, his wife came into the room, whom I hugged as well. It was my hope that my presence, another woman, would comfort them and help these brave ladies feel more at ease. I think it had the desired effect as they conversed freely with us.

He's in a lot of pain, deep in the large bones of the body, where the cancer cells are multiplying. It is amazing how rapidly this is happening. Just a month ago we were celebrating his remission. Terry does know the Lord, which is good. We just continue to trust Him for his healing, but if that's not what God will give, then we pray for comfort and courage for Terry and his family. Beverly handed us a written log of people's visits, a small beautifully designed booklet with the word Believe on the cover. Bill wrote first then I wrote of how blessed I have been that Terry has shared an office with Bill and, in made ways, has had his back. I wanted to be personal and I hope it has meaning for them.

After spending more time at the hospital than we expected, which was good, we made our way home. We talked about our lives, mostly about Terry and his disease, but also about what we believe God has called us to. It has fallen to us quite often to minister to people in these kinds of dark and uncertain moments of their life. We stopped at a Subway for a hot sandwich, chips, cookies and soda. As we continued on home Bill asked me how I liked our ministry date. And, honestly, I would rather do this than see a movie or go out to dinner. Those things have their place, I am sure, but this is when Bill and I see each other's best selves, when we are about the Lord's business, and serving together.

Glory

The Car Seat Guy

With the recent hubbub surrounding Joe the Plumber, I know that there are some stories that are, unfortunately, being relegated to the background. One such story being quite nearly as remarkable yet understated. It is a story that began not long ago and very close to home, actually, right in our home.

Bill the Car Seat Guy.

Yes, Bill has been working tirelessly right here helping kids get into car seats and parents comply with the law. He has sought support from such a wide variety of sources that his trip to Washington DC was inevitable. He is flying home from this venture as I write this.

He considered going for the conservative interest but realized that he might be selling himself short, so he pondered the liberal bleeding hearts, but even there he met with limitations. So, he decided to go where angels fear to tread: the middle ground. His strategy in this was ingenious.
He attended a dinner, a very special dinner, an exclusive event to be sure. Even the food was beyond anything his wife at home has ever attempted to create.

Then he simply introduced himself as Bill the Car Seat Guy to these fellows right here, and the rest is now history in the making. And, so far, his story checks out, his certification and income taxes are current and up to date!

Glory

Gutless Wonder

Just look up wimp in Webster's Dictionary and you'll see my name as a reference. This isn't a statement of self-deprication, it's a wry reality.

The truth is, goodbyes just aren't good to me. The word hangs in the doorway like a cheap tattered grey shawl. Just skulking in the corner with a sardonic grin while I pry myself away from the window pane, and force my hand frozen in mid wave down to my side. It doesn't leave when I throw laundry into the washer. It loiters while I fix meals or sweep floors. Goodbye is the lingering reminder that someone is gone. It's here and present right now as I type.

Bill kissed and held me early this morning while most others would have only just yielded to a deep sleep. He was dressed and heading out the door to catch a shuttle to the airport. His carefully selected cologne hung in the air around me like a cloud lulling me back to sleep. When our boys came charging into the room several hours later the scent was gone but his goodbye had stayed behind. I am accustomed to Bill returning the blinking tots to their beds for another few moments of rest, but it was left to me to clumsily perform this unwelcome task. Mornings aren’t very cooperative with me, as it is, so I am often picking my battles with it.

And what a cowardly warrior I am.

Someday I might properly defy loneliness by increasing my productivity. That would, of course, take quite a domestic form such as mending clothes, small household repairs, and taking stock of food and sundry items. I would rally my troops – aka kiddos – and get out of the house, take walks, and explore the territory. Later in the day we would plot more effective strategies of combating boredom and avoid the obvious questions, “Where is Daddy?”, “When is Daddy coming home?”, or “Why isn’t Daddy here?” I would plant enticing diversions, videos, coloring books, and yummy snacks throwing off the scent of sighs, groans, and huffs. Then the goodbye brazenly draped at our home’s entrance wouldn’t even get a second glance.

But, oh no, I couldn’t be that brave, that stalwart, or heroic.

I had to succumb to online meanderings between guilt trips to the sink full of dishes. I sheepishly ducked behind my cup of Market Spice tea, Bill’s favorite, and sucked on a cinnamon candy. I have even left the family room in overwhelming disarray. But, most shameful of all my failed attempts, I surrendered to mail-order shopping with Yves Rocher. And I’m entirely convinced, now, that the goodbye has moved from the doorway and is holding the remote control.

Glory

Early Snowfall

This morning was chilly when I woke up. Our boys had already left their room so I turned on our furnace and let them huddle beside the warm register. When I opened the door to their room I just sighed deeply and blinked slowly. They have developed a new strategy of making me go out of my mind. I have no idea when they concocted this diabolical scheme of theirs but it seems to be working. Let's say it looked like they were in a giant snowglobe that had toys, clothes, and diapers instead of lovely white snowflakes...and someone shook it up really hard. I would get to it later, I decided.

So, I proceeded to make oatmeal for breakfast and thought that today would be a good soup day. As I stirred up the oatmeal I wondered if our little girl would be eating any. She's been sick for the past four days with a fever and upset tummy. I called the girls down for breakfast and my intuition was correct. Having one less eater in the morning meant that I had leftover oatmeal. Reheated porridge sounds hardly appetizing so I thought it'd be a good idea to make bread with it.

Before I started on making the bread the idea of salty clear broth over gently yielding noodles wrapped my thoughts in warmth and comfort. That's when I decided to make homemade chicken noodle soup. I pulled out my family cookbook, the one with my grandma's heritage recipes. I took poultry scraps out of the freezer, placed them in our biggest pot and poured water over to almost full. My teaball that I use for the bouquet garni was missing its bottom half so I managed to put the ginger, star anise, cloves, parsley, bay leaf, and peppercorns in a coffee filter and secured it with a twist tie.

Then I made the bread. I know this recipe by heart but it's a little tricky using leftover oatmeal like this. I have to reduce the liquid by whatever amount of cooked oatmeal I have on hand. The boys watched as I mixed in the flour until I had a dough that was soft yet manageable. They love to "help" by pretending to dust flour onto the table as I knead the dough until it's just right. I don't mind their little flour-laden fingers too much.

This conjured up my inner Proverbs 31 woman-meets-Betty Crocker and I felt quite good about my productive morning. So, when all was done, the dough rising and the soup stock cooking, I sat down and started to watch the latest Saturday Night Live skit of the Obama - McCain debate. I was a few minutes into it when I thought I'd fetch my tea. When I walked into the kitchen I was stopped abruptly in my tracks like an Arctic blast of icy wind. What I saw made me want to laugh, cry, and start a rousing chorus of "Dashing through the snow..." all at once. I didn't laugh, though, or cry. I don't recall saying a word as I walked into our office, retrieved our camera, and snapped this photo. Not exactly lovely white snowflakes but my snowglobe certainly got shook up really good, this morning:

Thrift Store Rainbows

Maybe it’s because I was raised on handed down clothing that I enjoy thrift stores. As a young girl I would be overjoyed when a bag of clothes, shoes, and other items would arrive to our house. My sisters and I would gather around to see what we could find and we were always thrilled to find additional things like scarves, purses, jewelry and other accessories.

Having four children, now, I am learning how to navigate thrift stores quite well. I try to steer clear of sales gimmicks like “50% off Blue Tagged Items” or tables featuring cowboy boots of all sizes, styles, and colors. Our family has a rule we strive to follow: get only what you came for. Most of the time we’re really good at complying with that rule, though there are exceptions.

Yesterday we went in with the purpose of buying church shoes for our 5 year old daughter. Given the Fall season our teen wanted to look for costume items for the upcoming Harvest Party at our church while our boys sat happily in the cart playing with toy emergency vehicles. I found two pairs of shoes; one pair looked hardly worn while the other needed a little repair. We bought both of them, along with a few other items – the exceptions.

After I finished fixing the strap on one pair, this morning, our little girl brought me the other and said, “Look, Mommy, there’s rainbows in these shoes!” There was a shiny insole that held an iridescent sheen when turned this way and that. I smiled and nodded as she went her way. I didn’t really think about what she said until a moment ago. But the profound has away of landing gently in our thoughts.

Rainbows are Gods promise to us to never again flood the Earth. It is a symbol of God’s covenant of peace with us. Raising a family can be a frightening undertaking and worry comes in like a flood, sometimes. But when I remember God’s promises to us that we will not be consumed I can walk in His peace. Like our daughter, I can wear my rainbow shoes with the unwavering confidence that God cares for me.

Guide our feet into the way of peace.
Luke 1:79

Glory

Happy Birthday, Dad!

This was the last our whole family saw Dad, in May of 2007. MacAulay and I were in Saskatchewan back in September 2007 so another visit is long overdue.

Dad is the only grandfather to our children and it's hard, sometimes, that we just don't get together very often. He has also taken Bill as his son in many ways, and Bill respecfully calls him "Dad."

Dad has a kind of quiet strength and peace that our family appreciates and responds to. Lives are busy and days fly by so quickly it is so important to embrace calm. Whether it's just sitting down to coffee and conversation or reading a book to a little one (as in the above picture) Dad has always understood the meaning and reason for rest. It grounds us and makes us really think about what we're thinking about. And if you listen to Dad talk you know that he does a whole lot more thinking than most.

It's a good example that I want to follow.

Glory

For The SAFETY Of Our Babies And Kids

We're heading out on the highway in less than two weeks. Getting this in our e-mail was timely as we are setting up our packing list. This is what Bill works for. With a little common sense and a lot of prayer we will depart and return together and in one piece.

SAFE KIDS USA NEWS ALERT

Child Safety A Must, Especially During Summer Vacation



Watch the NBC vacation safety segment that aired this morning on The Today Show, featuring Alan Korn of Safe Kids USA, and the Michalson family, Safe Kids USA parent advocates.

Safe Kids USA offers these tips for keeping kids safe during your vacation:

- Properly secure all children younger than 13 in a back seat for every ride in the car. Keep children in the right type of car seat or booster seat until adult lap and shoulder belts fit them correctly. If you are flying to your destination, bring any car seats with you so your children ride safely in cars while on vacation.

- Make sure your children wear a helmet and other protective gear every time they bike, skate, skateboard or ride a scooter. Bring the gear with you if none will be available while you're traveling.

- Bring your own folding playpen rather than using a borrowed crib. If you do use a hotel's crib, inspect it for broken or missing parts to make sure it is not defective, damaged or even recalled from the market. Visit www.recalls.gov to check the model number.

- Actively supervise children in or around water. Never take your eyes off of your children. Always make sure your children wear life jackets when riding on boats or playing in or near open bodies of water.

For more information, please visit SafeKids.

Diagnosis: Jonah Personality Disorder

No, I have not been called to prophecy in any wicked country. At the very most I am obligated to speak the truth in love as I have opportunity. So, most of the time, I just listen to the concerns of others and share what I have learned through my own life while expressing my convictions. Then when I hear a report about how, despite bad choices and poor judgement, people are spared disaster and suffering I say, "Oh, how wonderful for you!" just like I should. Sounds innocuous on the surface, right?

Well, I've had to confront a pretty ugly reality that lurks below my gentle nodding, my soft voice, and my soothing countenance: my inner Jonah is stomping his feet, muttering under his breath, and frowning with a clenched jaw.

You see, all of my life I believed that as long as I tried to do the right thing nothing really bad would ever happen to me. Goodness gets rewarded and foolishness gets punished. Now, I know that regardless of my own shortcomings I have never gotten what I truly deserved. For this I should be so grateful and appreciative that it wouldn't matter to me if no one else got what they deserved either. Oh, that I could be so benevolent...

Instead, I sit and stew over wrongdoing and look for any sign that God is taking this as seriously as I am.

The truth? God takes this far more seriously than I ever could. Oh, I know what I have read about His character so I've got a pretty clear understanding of His mind about sin. And that includes MY sin.

So, if anyone I know also has Jonah Personality Disorder, I'm relived beyond measure that they keep it to themselves enough to never let on. Getting tossed out of a boat scares me and sitting in the belly of a whale isn't my idea of a weekend retreat. Before any of that happens, I'm starting a treatment program in compassion and management classes in mercy. I'll let you know how it turns out.

Glory

WALKING....finally!

Yes, our littlest guy was a late bloomer, I suppose. I could explain it away that he had so many willing tot-toters around, or that he was too afraid that we'd make him start pulling his weight around here, or that maybe his growing intellectual capabilities were using up all the energy and impetus that might have otherwise encouraged him to walk...yeah, okay...a mom's gotta figure this out somehow, right? But yesterday he took his first truly confident steps. You know the ones that say, *I'm a big boy, darn it, and I'm aiming to prove it!" It started out as a couple of steps then he just blazed a pioneering trail between the TV stand and his daddy. Today he's getting bolder and more sure of himself all the time.

A Better Class of Man

© 2008 Glory L Craig

You are a man who has retained the youthful enjoyment of clean wholesome fun and wonder of discovery and conquest.

You are a man who is both fierce and tender in your loyalties to your most significant relationships.

You are a man who knows your weaknesses and your strengths but will not be stubborn or lazy about them.

You are a man who holds your blessings with open hands that are strong enough to carry your responsibilities but yielding enough to release them when the time calls for it.

You are a man who counts the cost of your time, energy, and resources and prudently considers the impact that any withdrawal from these valuable assets will have on you and those around you.

You are a man who is diligent in occupying yourself in both paid and unpaid occupations without seeking favor or reward for your efforts and hard work.

You are a man whose manner and taste allows you to remain approachable yet permits you to be at ease in the company of the dignified and refined regardless of any differences in social class.

You are a man whose word is sound and trustworthy therefore you are not hasty to give it yet by your own principles you do what is right and honorable without the need to offer oaths.

You are a man who understands well both your strengths and weaknesses yet never exaggerates or minimizes either one.

You are a man who is gentle and kind to the smallest of God’s creations and reluctant to cause harm to anything that lives.

You are a man who proves your value and worth simply by living out your convictions and principles and thus demonstrating all that you have to offer.

You are a man who regards all things important and essential to life and living with all due reverence and solemnity.

You are a man whose eyes are fixed unwaveringly on your destination so every step and action corresponds to your focus and attention.

You are a man who transcends all that may have previously been thought as possible and sets precedent for anyone who observes you.

You are a man whose keen mind is carefully turned over, nurtured, and nourished with appropriate virtues therefore remaining healthy and vibrant.

You are a man whose sense of duty and penchant for risk coincide harmoniously so that you can perform the difficult unflinchingly both in and out of season.

Daddy, pleeeeeeze!

This morning while I was getting ready for work my oldest son, all of two years old, reached for a chocolate piece that was on the dresser. It was wrapped with foil and fitted with a little flag with a message to me from my wife. We have a hidden stash of these to leave on each other's pillows from time to time, to express our love, appreciation or fondness for each other. I told my son to put it down because it was daddy's. He put it down and left the room.

When I headed back to the room after I was about to leave for work, my son greeted me, waving and saying "C'mon, c'mon." We got to the room, where, with his left hand he was pointing at the corner and telling me that's where he put some trash. I looked at his right hand. It was tightly clutching the chocolate. I told him that he couldn't have that because it was daddy's and I took it from him. He burst out in tears and cried. I told him I appreciated him showing me that he properly disposed of trash, but he still couldn't have the candy. He cried loudly for a couple of more seconds.

Then he poured out his heart. "Daddy. Pleeeeeeze!"

I never had heard him say please like that before, and it slapped my heart around in my chest. I just stopped and looked at my broken hearted little boy.

"You said please?" I asked him.

"Yeahhhhhh," he cried.

I said OK and put the chocolate in his mouth.

I about cried.

What daddy could not fall for that.

Bill

Lost Angels: Encounters with First Nations

Paula Laureen Henderson uses her experiences with Canadian aboriginals to pose these questions: What will happen as the Canadian Aboriginal population in the prairies out numbers the white population? Will a new youthful generation be able to embrace change and intertwine our visions and goals for the survival of our nation, or will there be a power struggle that shakes Canada's foundation to the core? Will God keep our land glorious and free?



Ottawa (May 17, 2008) - The Ottawa Public Library (OPL) welcomes Paula Henderson to the Main Library on Saturday, May 31st at 1 p.m. Henderson will read from her new book Lost Angels: Encounters with First Nations. Copies of her book will be available for purchase.

Paula Henderson has a background in Public Administration. She is the founder of Gumdrop Enterprise, an independent publisher which encourages young artists with a vision. Henderson is the author of College Survival Guide: You are not
Alone.

The Main Library is located at 120 Metcalfe St. For more information please call InfoService at 613-580-2940 or visit BiblioOttawaLibrary.ca.


For more information:
Michael Murphy
Coordinator, Adult & Readers' Advisory Services
Main Library
Ottawa Public Library
613-580-2424, ext. 32115

Paula Laureen Henderson (Reading and Signing)
Tuesday Jun 24 2008 7:00 pm, Winnipeg, McNalley Robinson Polo Park location, in the Events Alcove

A reading and signing of Lost Angels: Encounters with First Nations. Henderson's interactions with First Nations people illustrate her perceptions and concern for public policies that do not work; Instead, she observes how these policies stimulate financial burden, substance abuse, racism and culture barriers. Henderson is a public speaker from Saskatchewan, the founder of Gumdrop Enterprises and holds a degree in public administration.

Paula Laureen Henderson (Reading & Signing)
Monday Jun 30 2008 7:00 pm, Saskatoon, McNalley Robinson Art Alcove

Paula discusses her own complex relationships with First Nations friends and acquaintances in an effort to shed light on the difficulties facing our province and country as the Aboriginal population grows, but does not find equality.

The Path

Every step requires
trust.
A mystery unfolds
with each stride.
Questions answered
New inquiries formed
As the trek begins anew.
And there on the horizon
A bend
up and over
We've done this before
Let's imagine
And realize
Together

Thank you for writing this for my birthday, Honey!

Has anyone seen my lost Christmas Eve?

The best one-word description of it that I can give you is tradition. My Christmas Eve is full and overflowing with things that I know I can expect. Most of the day is spent preparing for Christmas dinner. A turkey is thawing, cranberry sauce is cooling on the kitchen counter, sweetly spiced pies are just getting placed in a preheated oven, and bread and vegetables are prepared for stuffing. Much later on a simple meal of sandwiches is set out onto the table.

Within an hour of enjoying light fare the piano is opened and Christmas carols are selected to be played and sung. Everyone has a favorite that, of course, we must never neglect to sing. After all, in keeping this tradition, we remind ourselves of why we gather to celebrate the birth of Jesus. Our Savior’s birth is so significant because He came to seek and to save the lost. So, singing carols must be honored and cherished.

Christmas Eve, to me, is such a sacred time that I have committed to memory even the finer details that are so invaluable. Things like playing games with family, talking about children, and opening a single gift each. These small aspects really do add to the festive atmosphere and lend their own spirit. But, this year, I lost my Christmas Eve.

It began promising enough. I had my list of things I wanted to be sure to do. I didn’t have to worry about cooking a turkey since one had been cooked in advance and simply needed to be reheated. Although I could have made more of an effort to bake pies, I knew that we had plenty already made in our refrigerator. Stuffing is definitely a nice accent to Christmas dinner but, even there, I didn’t concern myself too much over preparing it and the cranberry sauce is a quick fix.

Then the unexpected happened. We were asked by a friend if we had room in our home for them. They weren’t to be overnight guests but I was certain that we could accommodate their presence quite easily. I was going to prepare, like always, I planned to sing, as usual, and we would open gifts on cue.

This was not to be as I soon realized that my Christmas Eve left our house when our guests walked in the door. They came in need of refuge and respite. They were hungry so we fed them the turkey that had been cooked. They were thirsty so we mixed up cocoa for them to drink. And we offered them our attention and sincere care for their needs. But still I missed my Christmas Eve.

As the evening wore on I struggled to retain the traditions that had always meant so much to me. A book of Christmas carols lay open and silent on the piano. A closet full of entertaining games was closed. And a bundle of gifts were unopened. But a new Christmas Eve entered our home where my old one had left. One that I am happy to have found and humbled to say I almost had no room for. And I know that the one that joined us this evening is the one that Jesus wanted us to have all along.

Have a Blessed Christmas!

An Intensely Festive Christmas

We are critically hooked on this music from Trans-Siberian Orchestra.

I'm just posting these here because I'd rather not have to navigate for them on YouTube.

Really Big KUDOS!

I had the great priviledge of hanging out with Paula, my long-term friend, during the end of September. She's just the kind of woman who inspires, provokes, and coddles me over Szechuan Cashew Chicken (even if she's forking bits off my plate). How we have remained friends over 17 years is a story that we've sworn to never tell, unless a sizable cash and benefits award is involved. If so, please hand over the notebook and pen!

I am extremely proud to say that she has joined the ranks of published authors. True to form, though, she has gone beyond this already considerable feat and has become a publisher as well. Bravo! In September I was her trusty sidekick during a comedy routine/booksigning event where I watched her connect with a broad spectrum of bookstore customers. She is authentic, gutsy, and a blessed lady...who has also overcome the beastly task of setting up her own website...Paula, I knew you could!

Glory

We Were Interviewed! Sort of...

So it was almost a year ago but, still, it made me feel spiritual and sage-like. Shana is from MeetChristians, the site where Bill and I met and courted more than six years ago. Bill was more of an interview coach but we agreed on pretty much everything, and still do. Read for yourself and decide if I'm telling the truth!

Shana: My question if you don`t mind sharing is what the decision making process is in your marriage in different areas and how it has evolved if at all. Examples too.

Glory: This isn’t something we sit down and strategize. We’re both strong communicators by personality so we’re nearly always hashing out decisions. We’re also open to a lot of expert opinion and our favorite resource is ChristianityToday.com. Ultimately, our process is 1. Approach the subject, 2. talk it over, 3. pray about it, 4. think it over, then 5. come to an agreement, though 2 to 4 are not always in that order.

For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to go with just three categories of decisions. Obviously there are usually more than that and some decisions straddle two or more categories.

Day-to-day: These include things like meals, leisure, or shopping. We generally talk about what we want, what we’re doing, or just ask, “What do you think?” This area is so fluid, though, that compromises are very common, no ones feelings are hurt if one or the other spouse wasn’t included in the decision, and the results aren’t crucial to family harmony. This is kind of the ad-lib part of our marriage, which makes contentment obtainable.

Family-Specific Issues: These would include finances, discipline, and extra-curricular activities. We do talk about this stuff a bit more seriously since it’s kind of the meat and potatoes of our marriage. This is where Bill’s strong leadership comes into play most often. We had to work a lot of this out in the first year (months even?) of our marriage and Glory had to work very hard at being submitted. It took me awhile to really trust God in doing this but I was glad when we sorted this out early on. We make appropriate adjustments to these things, of course, but the basic ideas are always the same.

Take discipline. I am generally more lenient where Bill is strict. There can be no argument about this, though, or the kids will suffer greatly for our disunity. I had to realize that it was for our children’s best interests to have proper boundaries and structure. Also in finances, I like to spend where he likes to save. Extra-curricular, I like to get out and do a lot of stuff but Bill likes a less busy life-style. It might sound harsh but wives really do have to make the most compromises just because our husbands are to be the leaders in our homes.

Critical Life Events: The deeply impacting nature of these types of decisions MUST have ample time to be prayed over and discussed as much as possible. These are events like church affiliation, family size, and relocation. If there is no agreement about these kinds of decisions there can be no peace or unity in the home.

Shana: How much of this did you have ironed out verses figuring it out as you went along?

Glory: Well, I would say that we could determine just so much prior to marriage. Until we had three children in our home, for example, we thought having four kids was a reasonable number, which it still is. However, I didn’t take into account my post-partum depression, gestational diabetes, or any other risk factors to pregnancy. I was terrified of having a fourth baby but God has used this to heal me in so many ways, and to keep me focused on trusting Him and depending on Him. Bill and I made this a matter for prayer and fasting, last Spring, and we left this in God’s hands.

Another example is discipline of our kids. Elizabeth kept a very messy room and I talked to Bill about this at odd times during our courtship. But when he came to live with my brother and actually saw how it was messy, every day, he took matters into his own hands while I was at school and cleaned her room out…literally. She had her dresser with clothes, her closet with clothes and shoes, and her bed with bedding…that was it. No toys, books, crafts, contraband treats…NOTHING. I was a little shocked but also very relieved that something happened and it set a standard for Elizabeth what her father-to-be would expect of her.

The thing we really learned in advance of our marriage is how we communicated and could reach a decision on things. We agreed on what the truly important issues were and what was more ad-lib stuff of marriage.

Shana: Also, how much harder do you think it was for you to let go of the reigns, especially with being a former single parent up until the wedding day?

Glory: It was pretty excruciating. I was in love with the love of my life and he saw problems in my lifestyle, my financial choices, and my discipline of Elizabeth. It’s tough accepting criticism about things that are ingrained and single parents, for survival’s sake, really have to be rigid and stubborn about a lot of things. It was tough to let Bill crack through my rigidity and take the lead. Over time it wasn’t a matter of “letting”, though, and I learned what godly, biblical, wifely submission is. It’s not even close to what is sometimes portrayed as being a doormat. It is a position of strength and control…self-control. I am the one who maintains and manages the standards that, for the most part, Bill has set and I have agreed with for our family. Trying to usurp him, to me, is more of a weakness that I have no control over myself or our children…and Satan has a heyday in homes where wives don’t submit in a godly biblical manner.

Shana: Was it a gradual thing?

Glory: It was, and it has to be. “Laying down the law” didn’t even come to mind when Bill took the lead. He’s a pretty serious, intense guy, but he’s extremely gentle and loving in his approach. In fact, since I tend to do more of the talking around here, it would be easy to mistake who wears the pants. But anyone who has known us for any length of time beyond a single visit knows that I am happily following my leader. And it helped realizing that Bill would answer to God for all of it. “I wouldn’t be left holding the bag”, so to speak, which was another relief, as a former single parent.

Shana: And were you ever afraid?

Glory: Ya think? Terrified spitless!!! This was real. Bill’s love for God and His Word was real. His love and devotion to me was real. I had only known synthetic gems and fantasy plays but when my diamond came along, I had no idea how to take off the mask and costume and be real with him. He wasn’t so much my knight in shining armor, more like he was my gentle shepherd in rough linen robes. He chose me, stubborn and defiant as I was, and he came ready to lead. I had to get used to him, his voice, and his ways. Doesn’t this sound like Someone else we know? Bill has been my greatest education in becoming a godly woman, following my Shepherd, and always listening for His voice.

Shana: How long have you been married?

Glory: It will be five years on February 4, 2007. I’ve been excited about this milestone, but more excited about the milestones to come.

Shana: How have your emotions, trust, the fear factor etc. changed regarding submission from the courting stage through the first year of marriage until now?

Glory: During our courtship I was oblivious to any emotional responses I might have been experiencing toward submission. It’s all so easy to be flexible and accommodating when the chemistry is surging, the heart is melting, and the brain is taking a hiatus from analyzing anything important. It was after our engagement when Bill was living with my brother and saw me on a daily basis and in my element that I started to get a clue what submitting to Bill was about. I was a single mom, attending University, working at Elizabeth’s daycare, involved in three church ministries, and getting Elizabeth to ballet classes twice a week. Bill saw that and offered his perceptions about my ability to stretch myself as thin as I was, and I didn’t want to admit that I was strung out. I was holding my life with a closed fist and Bill was right there ready to help me let go of whatever I could stand to lose. He even commented, “This isn’t the Bill Show or the Glory Show. It’s the Bill and Glory Show.”

During our first year of marriage I have to admit that my fears were very connected with my distrust. Bill was trustworthy and I needed to realize that but I had spent 8 years in charge of everything. Yet here I was forced to rely wholly on my husband for everything. I wasn’t a legal US resident (at the time) so I couldn’t work and everything belonged to Bill. We lived with his cousin for one month until we moved to this county. But the apartment, the bills, the bank account, the vehicle title and insurance, was all in Bill’s name. It had to be that way and I accepted that. Then Bill lost his job so I needed to rely even more heavily on him to preserve our family. I truly believe God used that first year to purge a lot of selfishness and pride out of me and forge within my character what was necessary for marital unity and harmony. It has become one of the richest things to come out of our first year of marriage, the richest, of course, being Murron, born 18 days after our 1st anniversary!

Now there really isn’t a fear or distrust issue to deal with. I’m so secure with how we’ve developed our relationship. It’s still pretty funny, though, when Bill intrudes into my territory like cooking, furniture arrangement, or housekeeping tasks. I freak out at him, sometimes, but it’s just me being too self-contained in my areas of responsibility. His primary love language is acts of service so I sometimes perceive his assistance as an indication that I didn’t do my job rather than his way of expressing love to me. I’m much better about this than I used to be but it still catches me off guard, sometimes.

Shana: How has Bill's leadership style changed, if at all?

Glory: It hasn’t changed as much as it’s become more rounded and established. I probably had a harder time recognizing Bill’s authority as a leader because he’s not a lording leader, nor is he an authoritarian leader. He doesn’t lead like that in our Bible Studies, either. Those kinds of leaders probably have a lot of followers because they’re very talkative, dynamic, and attractive because they stand out. Bill isn’t like that because he’s more of a communicator, he engages people in discussion, and he doesn’t draw attention to himself. He has a gift of teaching which is a highly influential style of leadership but it’s subtle and easily missed as leadership. I recognize it, though, and love him immensely!

Seriously Plugging

Our ever-capable and enduringly-creative worship pastor put together our church's website:

http://www.gcfmv.org/

It's WELL worth a look and listen...you might even get to hear me playing keys!

ENJOY!!!

Glory

Might as well be on a silver platter…

Our daily walk of faith can be so daily, everyday, and ordinary. Weekly schedules are planned, routine, and ritual. Watching the clock becomes watching the calendar until we realize that we woke up and we have to flip the page over, again.

After some time has passed in our right-living and well-doing we begin to question if we are going anywhere. We evaluate our expenditures of time and energy and analyze our effectiveness in getting jobs done. At this point it’s very easy to resort to man’s acknowledgement and recognition to measure of our performance or determine our worth. If a considerable amount of time passes and our inner queries are met with silence it opens us up to discouragement and frustration.

Of course, being honest with ourselves inevitably results in the realization that we really do fall short of the mark. After all, when we know that someone has already gone before us setting the standard for our life, what else do we conclude but that we can never truly measure up? We want to bloom where we are planted or, as Bill likes to say, keep our minds where our backsides sit. But we can’t help but wonder if our interests and abilities are just too foreign to those we associate ourselves with. Perhaps we are in the way of someone else who can do the job better, or we can do our job better somewhere else. Either way, we just have to think we might need a change.

Then change comes, but not as we have predicted or expected. It comes in the form of a blessing. It doesn’t have to be a big blessing, a blessing we have been seeking, or even a blessing that answers any of our questions. But the blessing confirms our place in the body. We are enriched by the blessing and it refreshes in a way that dispels all discouragement and frustrations. And the blessing equips us for the tasks that are ahead of us.

We respond in the most simple and appropriate way: Thank you.

Glory

In fractured metacarpals and in health...

On Tuesday Bill's side job as Superman took a bad turn. After leaping over a tall concrete barricade he landed on his head and shoulder and injured his hand. He was attending a meeting and when he shakily returned to his colleagues he whispered to one of them that he hurt himself and might have minor shock. He got ice on it and called me requesting my assistance as he went to the Urgent Care clinic. I walked in with him, wrote down his information and sat to his right on the bench.

While we waited, our youngest youngster in his car seat, I examined Bill's shoulder and head. Both had minimal abraisons. Then I looked at his hand and it was definitely swelling. I suddenly realized that they would have to cut his wedding ring off if the swelling continued. I tried turning it as Bill gasped and whimpered. A lady who was with her mother offered a small tube of hand lotion to lubricate Bill's finger. It worked and we successfully removed his wedding ring. Bill described the feeling inside his hand as crunching. We were called for more information and our copay which I handled as well. Then I sat on his left - his injured side - and tried to comfort him with an arm around his shoulder. As well-intentioned as it was he uttered a guttural protest to my affectionate gesture and the others waiting laughed. I felt silly and apologized nervously.

When Bill was finally called in he was examined, x-rayed, and examined again. The x-ray confirmed that he had splintered the fourth metacarpal of his left hand. He has an appointment to get a cast on Monday but he has a hand splint and a bottle of vicodin to get him through. In other words, his Superman days are suspended. He stayed home from work Tuesday afternoon but has been to work yesterday and today. However, being forced to alter his duties and slow down is hardly simple or easy.

Once a man of multiple abilities and talents he must do most of his jobs one-handed. Once a man of razor-sharp wit and responsiveness he requires further explanation and simpler queries. Now he is a hand-splinted acetaminophen and hydrocodone-hazed Super-de-dooper-man!

And I will be his extra pair of hands as he opens soda bottles, butters toast or ties his shoes or buttons, zips, and belts his pants. And when evening falls I will be his sofa-buddy as we sit through our ample supply of Twilight Zone episodes. Death Ship is especially tragic in a funny kind of way...

Glory

Beatnik and the Bugs

Remember the post about the bad sun? Well, it gets even more telling...

About a week ago our little girl and I were having a talk about the rain, the clouds, and lighting candles when the day looks dreary. She then disclosed that clouds make her happy.

Um...interesting.

I asked her why clouds make her happy. To which she replied that she likes clouds and rain. The sun makes her sad. Really, it does. She only likes to play outside when it's cloudy.

For the record this is the same four-year-old girl who likes to wear black. We had to retire one of her favorite outfits awhile back when it became too small. A black turtleneck sweater and black leggings. A couple of Sundays ago she asked to wear a black dress, black tights, and black ankle boots to church. With reluctance she let me pull her long blond hair into a ponytail.

This is also a bug-lover. She is especially delighted with pill bugs. She holds them in her hands and giggles when their little legs tickle her palms. Yesterday we discovered a very intriguing caterpillar - yellow with little black dots and long white whiskers.

So, the other day she was putting together a puzzle that she's put together dozens of times now. She noticed that her little brother was squinting his eyes when the sunlight broke through the clouds and flooded our dining area. Immediately her mood shifted as she sighed.

"The sun is in the way."

I thought it was a brilliant take on the concept of darkness and light. Isn't that what happens when the sun first breaks above the horizon obscuring everything in range of view? Or when driving at night and some idi- um passerby has his high beams on. A little light is better but no light is just asking for trouble. I do expect that she will soon understand the merits of sunlight.

More importantly, though, I hope her spiritual light gets in the way of all the emotional clouds she will encounter throughout her life.

Glory

Having doubts

So it appears that if one is a declared believer in God he (or she) is counted as faithless or maybe even a hero for expressing doubts, depending upon who you ask.

Apparantly, letters from Mother Teresa have surfaced from years ago which refer to her lack of faith, or more appropriately, crisis of faith. An article in Newsweek comes to a conclusion that Mother Teresa long stopped believing: http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/20497111/site/newsweek/

For this, she is hailed as courageous for even expressing her doubts; her difficulty in believing Something she could not see.

But, some are saying, her life full of frustration and faithlessness are qualities that should prevent her from achieving sainthood. The scriptures make it abundantly clear that all who are followers of Jesus are saints, so for that, the Catholic church committee that is deciding this issue can pack sand. Mother Teresa was a saint. And so are all who believe and follow Jesus.

My question: was it still worth it, Teresa?

Only Mother Teresa would know, and, alas, she no longer is here. But considering the countless suffering people who received help and comfort from her obedience, I would say yes.

But I have a difficult time with those who point at this and other related issues as proof in the pudding that what we believe is not true, that we're just wasting our time on foolishness, etc. But faith is just that: faith. One must have faith because there isn't a difinitive tangible answer for all things. Eventually, one has to take the leap. And eventually all roads lead to the an ultimate end, which, in turn, forces us to either accept or reject it. The end question is whether one will believe in Someone who already has proven Himself and has evidence for Himself everywhere we turn.

It doesn't surprise me that Mother Teresa had her doubts. How could one in her position not have doubts while being surrounded by endless suffering and pain, yet being told by her order that she should just suck it up? I only need to look at the many examples of scripture to see that Abraham, Peter, David and countless others had doubts and fears, and even shortcomings, yet were considered heroes of the faith. Even Jesus wanted the cup of indignation to pass from Him as He prayed in the Garden before His arrest, but He submitted to the will of the Father. So if our Lord had fears, then I don't think He's too concerned when we say we're having trouble even believing in what we're doing.

I heard a song lyric from Toby McKeehen recently that really sums up what I want to be like:

"I'm letting go of everything I am.
And I'm holding on to everything you are.
I'm letting go of everything I once was.
I'm all in.
I'm falling into your arms again."

I hope that Mother Teresa eventually felt this way, because, honestly, it's all we've got when everything else seems hopeless and pointless. And considering the alternative, it's everything we need.

Bill

Aero-Phobia!

It was a day like any other day.

Last Tuesday afternoon I was inside the house just taking care of business like usual when I heard a plane overhead. Then I heard a blood-curdling scream from our little guy in the backyard. I looked out the back door and saw him run from the back fence toward the house, screaming all the way. What could be the problem? Did he get bit by a spider? Did a squirrel get too close? Did he stick his hand through the fence and get bit by our neighbor's dog? He ran toward me, crying. When I picked him up he buried his face in my chest, And then he looked up at the sky, pointed and blabbered on in his 23-month-old language. I was at first confused, but then I realized: my boy is afraid of planes.

I imagined the Japanese conducting a bomb run on Pearl Harbor. "You afraid they're going to get you, boy?" I asked as I carried him into the house.

I don't know when this started. We have had numerous planes fly over our homes during my son's young life. At our old place out in the country, planes of all sorts would fly pretty low. I don't remember him being afraid when we'd run outside to see the single engine Cessna or bi-plane buzzing the powerlines. We'd even wave and at least once got a wing dip in response. But since moving back to town, where we are closer to a nearby naval station, we get all sorts of very loud aircraft fly overhead. Perhaps that's what's scared him.

But he's not afraid of helicopters. We get plenty of those, too. When one is flying nearby, Ulie waves and yells hello. Even if he hears one from inside the house, he looks up at the ceiling, waves and hollars hello. I bought him a little toy helicopter the other day, which he loves.

At any rate, when a plane flies overhead, and if Ulie is in the backyard, like today, it's like World War II all over again around here.

I think I might have to build a air raid shelter.

Bill

A travelin' man, his daughter and getting a little jumpy, perhaps

Our oldest and I just returned Saturday from a quick trip to Northern California, where we ended up after driving a couple of friends going through a rough time. It was a 18-hour trip down beginning Wednesday night, and a 16-hour trip back beginning Friday night. Certainly not a fun trip but one where we all got closer together and to the Lord and learned to lean on Him more, which should be the result of going through any tough time.

Our oldest is becoming quite the prayer warrior, as that was her assignment there in the waiting area outside the courtroom. She said to me a couple of times that she didn't think she was being much help, but I told her that she was doing what God has gifted her to do, and that is pray. And prayer was much needed in that courtroom. It's a sad case all around, but we pray that God's hand will move and the right outcome will be made by the judge.

But the lack of sleep sure has made for some tension here. We got back at about 8:30 a.m., only to scarf down some food, shower and run off to work. While I got some sleep on Saturday night, I still was pretty tired and a little on edge when Sunday came and we headed off to church.

So, there we were in the McDonald's drive thru after dropping off our oldest at a horse barn where she works from time to time. We felt as if we were hit from behind. I watched the van behind us as the driver edged closer to our rear. Wham! It felt like we were hit again. I got out and said loudly, "You hit us twice!" The lady in the van, looked at me bewildered. "I did?" she asked as she peered over the dash. I got out and looked at the bumper. At least five-feet separated us. I then told the lady that it must have been something else and went back to my van. Glory and I then noticed our four-year-old in the back slamming herself back into the seat as hard as she could; just playing around. How I could mistake a 40-pound girl goofing around in the back seat with getting rear-ended is beyond me, but I did. Embarrassed, I got out again and apologized to the lady. She said no problem. I don't think I made a complete fool of myself, but getting out and telling the lady that she just hit me twice was probably a little premature.

Fortunately I got some more sleep this weekend and am ready for whatever comes our way this week. I think I will avoid the drive-thrus, however. I'm finding that I am imagining things right now.

Bill

If I Could Scoot 2,000 Miles

And I have.

This morning my Honda Ruckus topped 2,000 miles on the way to work. 2,000 miles in just 14 months. It's been a lot of fun scooting around this area, to and from work mostly.

The reason for getting the 49cc scooter was to save some money. And it seems I have. I get 100 miles to the gallon. At an average of $3 per gallon over the past year, I have just had to shell out $60 for gas. That's one tankful in the van. The same 2,000 miles in the van would have cost $300. I did have to take the bike in for a tune up this spring. That bill wiped out the $240 savings we've enjoyed, but still, it has paid for itself.

Now that we live in town again, and that I am just three miles from work, there is no reason why I can't drive the Ruckus year-round and save more money, which really helps our budget-minded family.

I have earned the respect of the most grizzled Harley riders who have been impressed by my Honda's fuel efficiency. I appreciate the nods and waves of I get, but I know I'm not in their league...yet. I just wish I could go faster and look a little more menacing. While 42 mph is fun, it doesn't blow my hair back. And I probably would look stupid in leathers on that thing. And a tattoo that reads "Born to be wild," or "Mama" in a heart wouldn't look good on me either.

Perhaps a Harley is in order.

Someday.

Bill

Love of my Life

I hope you feel like this, today...on top of the world! Have a wonderful Birthday, Honey!

Happy 14th Birthday!

Our bloomin' sweet daughter:

Crying out to God

So the bridge collapse in Minnesota last nigth has got us wondering about something.

Ever notice that whenever there is some tragedy (natural disaster, a murder or other crime against a person, or any other horrible event), people cry out to the Lord, or thank the Lord if things aren't as bad as they thought or if they barely escaped, etc?

In short, they invoke the Name of the Lord.

That's fine. That's good.

It makes me more and more certain that people do believe in God and know that He's there somewhere. For those who have experienced loss during these tragedies, I often hear and see in the media quotes to the effect of blaming or at least questioning why GOD allowed this to happen. Some might criticize such complaints, but I have had to rethink this. For me, I am encouraged that they really do know that there is a God and that He is out there somewhere. At least they are one step closer to acknowledging Him directly, which is what God wants.

I take this one step further with those who say there is no God or don't believe in Jesus or any deity for that matter. Why then, when swearing, is the name of God or Jesus invoked? Curious. When one stubs their toe on the living room coffee table, they don't say "Oh BUDDHA!!" No, it usually is a cursing with God's name or Jesus' name in it. Makes me think that in our innermost being we all know that God is out there somewhere, whether we like it or not or whether we want to believe it or not.

And while we don't understand God's ways, I believe He is looking on even those who died in Minneapolis last night. I just pray that He will give comfort to those who lost loved ones in that mess.

Bill

Border Crossings

Going up to B.C. yesterday was a lot of fun. We had the pleasure of taking Glory's sister and niece back across the border so they could fly back to their home today. Our visit, though a short 24 hours, was refreshing. I like being in their presence as they encourage me in my walk with the Lord. I find that I am too serious and regimented. Where's the sweetness of the Lord? In them, I see it, and I want it, too.

Crossing into B.C. was uneventful. The border guard was professional and nice, too.

Coming back into the U.S., well, that's another matter.

I have long thought that my countrymen at the U.S./Canadian border are just a little too serious. The young border enforcement agent who greeted us at the crossing was all business. No smiles. No laughing. Nothing. Not even when he determined that, yes, we were who we said we were, and, yes, these were, in fact, our children, he asked if we were bringing anything into the U.S. The only things we bought were from Tim Hortons, so I responded accordingly.

"Just some Timbits and a cup of coffee," I told him matter-of-factly.

He paused and told us to go on our way.

When we were safely away from the guard, Glory burst out laughing, and suspected that he, despite his demeanor, was laughing, too.

Well, I answered his question, I responded.

That's not what he meant, Glory explained.

We're going back there in a couple of months when Glory heads to Saskatchewan for a week. Perhaps I can bring enough Tim Hortons to even share with the guard when he asks me what I bought in Canada.

Bill

Renovations Part II

So we had a conversation with the neighbors yesterday after returning home from church. They filled us in on the goings-on at our humble abode before it was our humble abode. It so happens that the people that were there before the people that were there before us owned not only our house but our neighbors' house, as well. Over time, our neighbors told us, they have had to shell out about $20,000 to get the house up to code. Great. As if money isn't tight enough.

One event that was not entirely welcome for our neighbors was the fate of their doorbell. When using it one day, the wiring caught fire. I'm sure that kind of greeting would be quite traumatizing for a friend coming over for a friendly chat and a shared supper.

"I-I don't know, o-o-officer," Bob stammered to the cop on scene, with the charred ruins behind him. "I just brought over some barbeque for them and rang the doorbell. The house just burst into flames."

"Really? That's what happened?" the cop asked.

"Yeah," Bob replied. "Now what am I going to with these ribs?"

Our neighbors warned us about lots of things, most of which we already knew. The foundation in the king and queen room (old garage) probably isn't up to snuff because it was poured without permits. The wiring is going to have to totally be replaced. They weren't surprised to learn of our need to replace the flooring (with which we are about done replacing in the kitchen.)

It's good to have neighbors that are in the know about things that affect us. Knowing that these neighbors who have seen the inside of our house know the history of how it got that way gives us comfort that if something goes wrong, they likely will be able to let those who handle such things know what happened to us and why.

Now, where's that doorbell?

Bill

To add to the original post: the whole conversation started when they asked us if we knew anything about the fence. We didn't but we had noticed how odd and piecemeal it seems to have been built. Turns out they had a deal with the owners of our house that they would split the cost of the fence and build it together. Our neighbor went out and purchased lattice, posts and other fencing supplies and had it sitting in their yeard ready to go. Lo, our neighbors came home one day to find that part of the fence had been built, and badly so. No money was offered, much less given, for the materials used and it was too late to start over. So, we've given our neighbor the green light to tear down, rebuild, put up, or whatever he wants to do to the fence. Just as long as their dog does her business in her owners' yard and not ours, I'm happy!

Glory

Renovations

So we had a bunch of friends over last Sunday after church for an open house. It was fun showing the 97-year-old new-to-us house around to explain what we would like to do in the coming years.

And years it will take, too. There's the kitchen floor that needs to be retiled. There's hardwood floor underneath the carpet that Glory and I want to expose and varnish. There's painting, painting, and more painting that needs to be done. There's a stairwell that should be replaced. The list goes on.

We already have started on the kitchen floor by removing the ancient original tile. That job possibly could get done by week's end if we can stay with it. I nearly slit my left wrist last night with the putty scraper I was using to peel the tile off the floor. Fortunately it wasn't that deep but a scar will likely remain.

So all this renovation reminds me of the work God does in our lives. There are layers to peel away exposing a bare foundation that only He can refinish to make beautiful again. Our walls that need spackle and paint remind me that there are dings, scratches and scrapes we get in our lives that He smoothes over with a refreshing whitewash. An old air conditioner awkwardly placed into a hole in an old door remind me that there are glaring things that God gently points out to me that they obviously don't fit and need to be removed. The original windows in our house let out a ton of heat in the winter time, much like a life that's not insulated with the Word when times get tough. And that ugly homemade not-up-to-code electrical job in the garage reminds me that some things in our lives better be removed, and quick, lest we burn the entire house down.

Now if we can just figure out what to do with sap-dripping trees over our driveway. That's getting to be quite nasty and our Volvo is sure to be encased in it before too long.

Bill

Feelin' hot, hot, hot!!!

The heat that most of the west has been experiencing the last couple of weeks finally hit us yesterday. Today was the hottest day of the summer with a high of 97 or so. That's really cookin' for this part of the country. Glory and the kids tried their best to keep cool during the day by staying indoors with the curtains and shades drawn.

I hae tried my best playing Superamazing hubby and dad when I got home from work by loading up the family and heading out to somewhere cool. Yesterday it was the land of the never-ending stuff: Costco. Glory and I finally bought a membership to that place and yesterday was payday. What a crazy place: a dumping ground of mostly junk most people don't need, but we managed to find things that we use. Now we will have those things to use until 2013. Murron called Costco "California." Seems to her that the store looked a lot like a Target store Murron and I visited in Sacramento last month. Some memory Murron has!

Today we trekked on over to Target. Funny that despite the heat there were very few people there. Usually the place is packed. Then we headed to Sears. Glory looked for a bug zapper. We were notified by our local department of health that our neighborhood is experiencing a high volume of mosquitoes and that if we're not careful, we're going to die tomorrow from West Nile Virus. We can't have that, so we needed to buy something to protect ourselves. We finally found a good zapper at Fred Meyer. While there, though, Glory and I noticed people buying up air conditioners. We both shook our heads. Glory noticed the same thing at Sears. What a waste of money. Sure, it's been hot the last two days and tomorrow we'll experience the final day of this, but come the weekend and beyond, it will cool down. Beginning next Tuesday we're supposed to start a week of rain. So, in other words, normal Washington weather. Those AC buyers should have put their money to good use buying bug zappers. They're more likely to die from Yellow Fever than from heat stroke. Around here, anyway.

Bill

From Colorado, to California, through Oregon and home to Washington

Bill took Elizabeth on a hike up on Mount Garfield. They ran out of time before getting to the top...just imagine if they made it even higher than this!

Bill and Glory stepped out for this shot in the Rockies...grin.

Murron loved the smell of this gorgeous orange blossom.Another photo of Bill and Glory to add to the Capitol building series!A near sunset view in front of Mount Shasta. The whole gang of six at Crater Lake! Ulie was thrilled to play around on the shoreline and then MacAulay finally got his chance to enjoy the sound of the surf in the safety of Glory's arms.