Triple Cousins

Party Favors from On High: Happy Birthday, Sixbit!!

So by now if you haven't checked out Kandid Kiwi's post, you should, right away, to see all the excitement we had last weekend.

I didn't quite expect myself to get so carried away with the whole Hollywood scene. I think my suppressed childhood film-career-ambitions got the best of me in the worst possible way last Saturday. I wasn't sight-seeing, I was trolling for celebs. The weird thing was that everyone else on Rodeo drive was doing the same thing. It was like playing that youth group game where someone is "the killer" and everyone has to look everyone else in the eye to see who it is while trying to act normal. Mixed with Where's Waldo. Oh, and Versace stores.

But I really wanted to see a celebrity. So I prayed to see one. But that is so silly! What with Africa and Afghanistan? Who prays for such ridiculous things? Doesn't God have His hands full?

Not even. Ours is a God who cares when sparrows fall, who knows each of us so intricately that His blessing are tailor-made without seams. He knew exactly what He was doing when He had us drive around the parking lot not once, but twice so that Jeff Probst would still be getting his food when we all tromped into Baja Fresh.

People who know this group know how amazing and special it was to see That particular famous person with That particular group. We are people who get together every week to watch this TV show, to fellowship in that particular way. This show, in certain ways, brought us all together. We are people who love to laugh at the stories of Brent's audition tapes and who sometimes sit together long after the credits watching the kids dance off Fresca or bouncing a balloon around the room.

A few Sundays ago we read Hebrews where it talks about the Great Cloud of Witnesses. I had a moment remembering that Sixbit is now in that Crowd. I like to think that our group sighting was a little birthday favor that he requested on our behalf so he could watch and laugh with us again. It will be a great day when we can laugh about this face to face.

Uncle D

Breezed through town last night and made time for Heidi. She warmed up to him.

For the Mother

This is the stuff legends are made of.

My mother spent mother's day on an airplane. She spent the weekend in Minneapolis caring for one of her grandbabies....traveling many miles to watch Heidi so that I could attend a wedding. Instead of a brunch, my mom had limited leg room and a two hour layover in Cleveland. Instead of a pile of presents, she had a long day with a "high maintenance" baby.

Cards and gifts just seem silly compared to how much she gives.

Five years ago, I couldn't imaging celebrating mother's day as a mother. My mom and I were in a bookstore and saw a reprinted Lois Lenski book, The Easter Day Parade. We had both loved her books when I was little and always had a few of them from our local library.


You should get that for your kids! Mom said. At that time in my life, five years ago, I thought I would never meet anyone or have kids of my own. I thought I had made my bed, so to speak, and that marriage, family, and children were missed opportunities. I said something to that effect.

A few weeks after that, I received the above book in the mail from my mom. No letters, no "it will happen for you someday!" hallmark hopefulness. Just a silent symbol of what I knew she was praying for.

I read a small devotional by Miles Stanford shortly after entitled The Green Letters. Expect to be blessed, Stanford says in the book. No, he's not preaching a "health and wealth" Gospel. He's preaching the truth. As children of the King, we can expect blessing, no matter what form it comes in. Like a mom who goes to the ends of the earth for her kids. Like the promises that children are. And most of all, for the hope that we can pass on wordlessly in small ways, like Lois Lenski books. When I got that book from my mom, I started daring to pray for a family of my own.

Thanks Mom.

9 Months: House Tour

Here is our new home according to Heidi.

Push Toys for the Frugal Baby

We've been hemming and hawing about which push toy for Heidi for the last two months. She discovered this on her own. Definitely the cheapest option--remind me to send it into Frugal Fridays. Best used with supervision.

This Blog is still active and don't take this post too seriously.

My perfectionism has been keeping me from blogging, since I so want to post some new house pictures, but that would require enough time at the computer to like, organize and sort--oh, and clean the house for the pictures and also decorate it more the way I want it in addition to my main task these days, which is a)protecting Heidi's skull and b) protecting her airways.

The videos are coming, but basically our new house is all hardwood and tile. And Heidi is learning how to walk and (hopefully) learning not to touch the dishwasher, oven, or dog dishes. She's not walking, but is pulling herself up on anything and everything and sometimes pulling things down on top of herself as she falls backward. I'm seriously thinking of getting her a helmet. I am trying my darnedest to keep up with her, but anyone who has gone "running" with me know what that looks like.

And husband has been mad busy with a work-school nexus-deadline extravaganza. And the writer's strike is over.

Kendall Bethy has some good photos up; please go there to see Heidi and her cousins in the explosion of cuteness that they all are. Her post reminded me of my recent visit to her place where I met Penelope and learned all about evangelism.

Here's the part to not take too seriously: Kendall and I were at a play area in a mall watching Jaxon run the perimeter as fast as his legs could carry him while Heidi tried to find gross germy things to eat on the floor. A woman next to me noted how cute they were, etc. I'm so used to hearing that I almost drown it out these days. My, this one is talkative, I remember thinking to myself as she peppered me with questions about Heidi's age in addition to various facts about her own children. Wow, these Southerners haven't lost their charms even in a post 9/11 world. I thought it was a little weird that another woman on talky's other side appeared to be eavesdropping or had swimmer's ear or something.

Then she hit me with the tract and asked me to visit her church on Sunday. It was a smart idea: a tract with the church name, photo of the members, and contact info all right there. I'm not sure if that's a new form of tract, or if the traditional ones are just out of print due to the computer boom. I guess it's been that long since I've seen the old school ones. Anyway, she was from something Baptist church and I was pretty sure that Ms. Swimmer's Ear was in some kind of training or praying for my Salvation.

Yes, yes, I'm a Christian. Yes, I go to church--well, my sister goes too. Sorry, you won't be able to bring her to yours. Yup, thank you so much for caring. Mm, hmm. It's important to do this kind of thing.

She was silent for a few moments. Then as a last resort: "Well, it's great that you go to church and all, but you need to be 100% sure that you're going to Heaven. Now, can you tell me that you're 100% absolutely positive that you are going to Heaven?"

What I wish I'd said: "Sweetie, I'm a Calvinist. I'm 200% sure that I'm going to Heaven."

What I actually said: "yes, I am sure." I kind of felt like she wished I'd said no.

But really, I have been thinking a lot about evangelism, or as Doug Wilson recently mentioned in one of his sermons, Friendship Evangelism. He makes the point that while methods such as I mentioned above are good, valid, appropriate ways to evangelize, our evangelism needs to be something flowing out of us, like water from a well. We should be the kind of people who can't answer 10 questions without somehow pointing to God. The tracts should be our language, layered over our thoughts every moment of every day: May the Mind of Christ My Savior, etc.

It's probably good that I didn't bring up the Calvinist thing. I'd probably still be there talking.