A Wave And A Smile

My son is in such a friendly stage right now. He recently discovered that waving at someone causes them to smile, and wave back - amazing! Our trips to the grocery story are down right comical if not slightly embarrassing. I’ve started to think that he is secretly tallying up the number of people he can get to wave back to him as if trying to beat the number from the week before. Up until yesterday, he had an amazing track record for turning the grumpiest-looking people into happy, baby-talking, ‘googlers’ (as I call them).

Yesterday was different though because as we walked down the long aisle of paper towels and sandwich bags, a man approached our cart, looked at my waving son and kept walking without a response. My son instantly looked at me with a puzzled look and then strained to his right to look around me at the man as he walked away still waving just as eagerly as before. He watched until the man was out of sight and then looked at me with big puppy dog eyes and his hand cocked to the side like, “What happened?” I kissed his sweet head then waved back at him as exuberantly as I could which pacified him until he found his next instant friend.

In the long run, the moment probably had little if any long term effect on him but it affected me because it made me realize all of the heartbreaking lessons he has yet to learn. Granted, having someone not return a friendly wave isn’t big in the grand scheme of things but I know it is just the beginning of some very painful life lessons. I know that if I could prevent him from enduring the heartbreak that he will inevitably endure I would, but in my heart of hearts I know that those lessons are necessary for his emotional and spiritual growth and that they will ultimately play a role in the kind of man, husband, and father that he becomes.

Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope.
Romans 5: 3-4

Your thoughts?

In "Other" Words: Giddy

"I long to worship Jesus with the heart of a child, in a state of pure and true adoration. Yet so many things of the world cloud my thoughts and pull on my heart until it's no longer just a girl in the arms of the Father."
~Darlene Schact~
"The Mom Complex"

Just the other day, I watched my friend's daughter for her so that she could make one final visit to her obstetrician before the arrival of her new baby boy. I have to confess that I absolutely adore my friend's daughter, whom I'll call RR, and love it when my friend calls me to watch her. This particular visit, RR arrived during the middle of my son's nap so the first 30 minutes she and I played quietly in the opposite end of the house. As I heard my son start to stir, RR and I tiptoed quietly down the hall to his room where I barely cracked open the door and let RR peak her head in. The groggy little boy looked up sleepily from his crib and when he saw the sweet face of his precious friend, a grin the size of Texas immediately spread across his face. As she walked closer to his crib, his smile grew so big that he looked positively giddy. RR started giggling and clapping and my little guy just sat there staring at her, starry-eyed with unashamed joy ( I later told my mom he looked high). He stood up, glanced quickly at me and then pointed at her as if to say, "I want to see her!!!". I picked him up and placed him on the floor next to her and they both began giggling, then she gave him a big hug and they both fell over giggling. I stood there, drinking in the moment, knowing that moments like those were rare and that very soon there would come a day when both would be ashamed to so publicly enjoy each other's company.

Every time I think back to that moment, my eyes tear up because I've felt that adoration in my heart towards my heavenly Father many, many times in my life but I don't know that I've ever let my joy creep to the surface like my son. What holds me back? Oh, so many things: insecurity, fear, judgment, laziness, doubt, you name it. How different my life would be if my Father had allowed such petty things to stifle the expression of his love for me!

From The Mouths of Babes

I love Fridays not only because I have the day off but because my son and I get to spend the whole day together doing all of the fun things we don’t get to do during the work week. Among my favorite activities is taking my little guy to our city’s gigantic wooden castle playground. We generally spend at least an hour, sometimes two climbing up and down the steps of the castles and forts, sliding down the slides, swinging in the swing and generally covering ourselves in dirt and sand….it is awesome. Just this past Friday we made our weekly trip to the park only to discover that this week the playground was unusually packed. We made our trek back to the toddler section and began our usual routine when four boys, about 11 or 12 years old, came tearing into the toddler section running up the steps that my little guy was methodically climbing. I immediately grabbed him moving his tiny little fingers out of the way of the fast feet of the oblivious boys and we moved on to another section as to stay out of their way. A little wary of the rowdy boys, I kept my ears peeled to their conversation so I could ensure that a sudden stampede of racing wouldn’t trample my little guy. In the process I overheard their conversation as they played in the sand. It went a little something like this:

Boy #1 “Hey let’s build forts in the sand!”
Boy #2 “Nah, I wanna build the Giant Wall of China.”
Boy #3 “You dummy, it is the GREAT Wall of China, not the GIANT Wall of China”
(the other boys laugh)
Boy #2 “ Well….it IS giant!”

A few minutes later….

Boy #1 “Hey! Why are you building your city so close to mine?”
Boy #2 “Don’t worry – we aren’t enemies!”
Boy #3 “Hey Parker, what are you building?”
Boy #1 (Parker) “A church”
Boy #3 “Cool! Can I build mine next to yours?”
Boy #1 “Yeah, that is a good idea. We should probably just combine them with a bridge or something.”
Boy #3 “Yeah, churches are always better when they work together.”

How ‘bout that? Four rowdy boys, dressed in fatigues and cowboy boots with plastic rifles, oblivious to the little guys in their pathways yet onto a concept so profound. What a lesson to be learned.

If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.
Romans 12:18

Your thoughts?

Places I've Been

Here is a sampling of some of the places I've been this week; I hope these blogs are as beneficial to you as they were to me.

Be sure to check out this month's installment of the Christian Women Online Magazine with special guest and Christian novelist Robin Lee Hatcher. Love is the theme and I think you'll love it! Click here. This issue also includes a really interesting column by Kim Brenneman called Top Ten Time Theives...check it out!

Check out Jim Martin's blog God Hungry for a number of great posts including 'Marriage and Following Jesus', "When Life is Hard' (2 parts) and "What do you wish church leaders knew about everyday people?'. Be sure to leave him some love!

Make a stop at Curl, Up and Read to welcome brand new blogger Kristi and enjoy a number of excellent posts. Be sure to leave her some love!

Finally, check out Christopher Green's blog Green Pastures for a number of great posts including "Checking Our Balance", "Feed Me Seymor" and my personal favorite (because it is about my son) "Little Friends". Be sure to leave him some love!

Perspective

A cold front is moving into North Texas and this evening was unusually brisk bordering on cold. As I walked to my car after a late evening meeting I was surprised to see my breath as I exhaled. I marveled at the swirling vapors and as my eyes followed each exhalation my glance moved skyward. My eyes caught the brilliant light above me and I was overcome by the clearness of the night sky. I marveled at the stars and the moon because they were so bright they felt as though they might perhaps be within my reach.

In that moment I remembered a night almost 8 years ago when a group of 7 or 8 friends were night hiking in the mountains of Italy in search of a place to lay down camp for the night. Weary from our journey we decided to take a break, eat some rations and have a short devotional before continuing our search. A good friend, minister and highly talented writer volunteered to lead the devotional and after some songs led us in a moving devotional lovingly walking us through each detail of creation. Lying flat on the ground, my head on my travel pack, staring straight up at a sky not unlike the one I saw tonight, I felt my ears perk up as he reached verse 16 of chapter 1, “God made two great lights—the greater light to govern the day and the lesser light to govern the night. He also made the stars.”

He paused and read the last part a second time, “He also made the stars.” then a third, “He also made the stars.” We sat in silence drinking in the magnitude of those five simple words. It was several minutes before my friend broke the silence in a whisper, “If the stars you see before you were but an afterthought, how much valuable are we as the culmination of his creation?” Thank you Cliff, for the perspective I needed.

“He also made the stars.”
Genesis 1:16

Your thoughts?

What's Missing Here?

This afternoon I decided to treat my little guy to his favorite meal: homemade french bread pizza. I pulled out all of the ingredients, lathered on the layers and popped the homemade treat in the oven but when I pulled it out twenty minutes later I realized that something was missing…pizza sauce! I set the toasted cheese bread aside for me to eat and pulled out all the ingredients to remake one to serve to the little guy but when I pulled the loaf out twenty minutes later I realized something was missing…cheese! What is wrong with me?!?!?!

I’m distracted. Not just a little bit but totally, completely, undeniably distracted. Funny thing is, I am not even really sure what I’m distracted by. It has been several weeks since I have consistently written on my blog and several weeks since I’ve had consistent quiet time with my Bible or in prayer. If I look back over the last month, I am sure I could find tons of excuses, but if I am honest with myself, I can’t really see anything that would take up more time than my normal activities over the last year. In fact, I am less busy now than I was this time last year and yet I seem to have less time to get things done.

It occurred to me today that I’m distracted because I’ve allowed myself to be distracted. I have a choice as to what things occupy my time and what things are expendable and yet I have convinced myself that I don’t have enough time or that unimportant things are important. If someone were to measure up my life by the things that I make time for, I’m sorry to say that my life probably wouldn’t amount to much. This week I am going to try and reprioritize my life based on the things that I value rather than the things that ‘fill’. What distracts you?

Misplaced

For the past seven days, my little guy has had a really bad case of rotavirus. For those of you who are not familiar with the horror that is the highly contagious rotavirus, click here. Obviously, I am exaggerating a bit; however,of the 10 babies in his mother’s day out program, only ONE showed up on Thursday. The rest had contracted the virus.

Anyone close to me knows that I am terrified of throwing up. In fact, it has been 19 years since the last time I had a ‘food reversal’ (sorry if that is TMI). When my husband started showing signs of rotavirus I started to panic. As a result, I’ve been obsessively washing my hands, as well as any surface that either of them has touched. The frenzy with which I’ve attempted to avoid contracting the virus is embarrassing; I can’t honestly say that I’m as passionate about anything else. I wonder how differently my family, or even the world would look if I had half the passion about spreading the gospel as I do about avoiding a stomach bug. Truth hurts. Where is your passion misplaced?

As you go, preach this message: 'The kingdom of heaven is near.'
Matthew 10:7

Your thoughts?

Two Or More

I recently joined a very well known, world-wide, interdenominational Bible study group that I absolutely love. I’d been on a waiting list to join the group for a short time so when I received the call that one of the discussion groups in my age bracket had an opening, I jumped at the opportunity.

The week before my first visit, I poured over the text and spent a great deal of time considering each and every study question before answering, so that by the time our meeting rolled around I was eager to participate. The group was so kind and welcoming and we had a very lively discussion that was followed by a time of sharing and prayer requests.

We spent about 15 minutes going over each individual woman’s prayer request and as we neared the end I found myself caught up wondering about the logistics of the impending prayer (will we hold hands? Will everyone pray or just one person? Will we go in a circle or in ‘popcorn’ fashion?) so much so that I was startled when suddenly I saw everyone gather their things and head down to the group lecture. I paused, embarrassed for a moment wondering, “Did I miss the prayer!?!”

I gathered my stuff and headed out to meet my friend in an adjacent group and as we walked down the stairs she began to ask me questions about the group and our discussion. I shared all the juicy details of our lively discussion and listened as she told about her group’s discussion and when she asked me what I thought I told her I loved the format but that I thought it kind of strange that my group ‘forgot’ to pray.

She laughed and said, “Yeah, there are two major rules here; you aren’t allowed to tell where you go to church or what denomination you are and you aren’t allowed to pray together because it might give indication as to what denomination you are.”

I couldn’t believe it; the omission was intentional! I have to confess it bothers me to the very core that a group of believers can gather together, discuss God’s word, share personal, intimate details about their lives, ask for prayer requests and then not pray! It is as bothersome to me as a sentence without a period, a song without a resolving note, or a book without the final chapter. The more I think about it the more it bothers me. Why? First because prayer shouldn’t be political! Second because I think we don’t pray enough as it is!

I am not trying to have a 'holier than thou' attitude because if the truth be told, when things get busy in my life, very often prayer is the first thing to go. As much as I can excuse it away, the truth is that you can’t have a relationship with someone you only read about; relationships are interactive. I am not sure where to go from here, in regards to my Bible study group, but I do know someone I need to talk about it with!

"Again, I tell you that if two of you on earth agree about anything you ask for, it will be done for you by my Father in heaven. For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them."
Matthew 18:19-20

Your thoughts?

But.......

But.

A small word.

Maybe a funny word, if taken out of context.

Most definitely a powerful word.

"That shirt looks great on you, but...."

"Great work today, but..."

"I love you, but...."

Have you ever received a 'but' compliment? I received one just this morning and while I appreciate the effort and know that the person paying the compliment meant well, the 'but' ruined it. To me it felt more like something mean wrapped up in something quasi nice just to make it ok to say the mean.

As Christians we behave like a 'but' (not a butt, although I am sure there are Christians who behave like the latter as well) far too often. I forgive you, but..... I accept you, but..... You are welcome, but.....

Are we really representing Christ's love if our actions come with a 'but'? It is my prayer that I may be generous with my compliments and stingy with my 'buts'.

We loved because he first loved us.
1 John 4:19

Your thoughts?

Blessed Beyond Measure

In the days following the birth of my son it became apparent that he would not be discharged as quickly as full term babies. As the doctors and nurses assessed the situation, his health, and his development, they all agreed that it would be weeks, if not months, before he would be eligible for discharge. I was heartbroken. Not only would my son not be going home with me when I was discharged, he was being kept in a NICU that was 45 minutes away from our home. I felt desperate and scared at the thought of leaving him and began spending every waking moment by his bedside, talking, singing, and holding his tiny little hand. When my doctor talked of discharge I burst into tears and begged her to keep me longer. Because I had been through major surgery, she approved two additional days. My cousin and her husband came to visit shortly after this; my husband recapped the story to them and told of the mercy that the doctor had for us and our situation. Half an hour later my cousin and her husband returned with the news that they had booked us a weeklong stay at the nearby extended stay hotel, with an open-ended start date so that we could begin our stay as soon as I was discharged. I was stunned to silence at their generosity and floored by their thoughtfulness in our difficult situation. Soon after, my sister heard of my cousin's generosity and called the hotel; she told them that she and her husband would take over the rest of our stay so that we could "live" nearby until the day that he was discharged, however long that would be. Even now I cannot believe how blessed we were by the generosity of our loved ones. Those two beautiful gestures were compounded by the millions of small things my parents did to ease our stress: little things like doing our laundry, picking up food, taking shifts with the baby, and just keeping us company as we tried to remain focused on the task at hand. Looking back, I realize how tremendously blessed we were despite the stress. As I reflect on each day, the feelings of love and the support far outweigh the fear and discouragement we thought we felt.

The memory gives pause for reflection; how am I blessing those in need? What small things can I do to ease their burden or to carry their load? How can I be the hands and feet of God today?

A generous man will prosper; he who refreshes others will himself be refreshed.
Proverbs 11:25

Your thoughts?

Not Alone

We spent three and a half very stressful weeks bunkered down in the NICU. While our situation was taxing, it in no way compared to the experiences of many of the other families in our ward. We were so fortunate that in spite of our son's premature birth and probable lack of oxygen, he did not suffer any permanent damage. Not only was our little man the largest preemie in the ward (5.5 lbs), he was among the few that could breathe without a ventilator, and only had a handful of instances of bradycardia.

Because of the constant threat of heat loss, irregular heart rate, and loneliness, the NICU staff strongly encouraged a practice affectionately termed Kangaroo Care. Kangaroo Care is a form of skin-to-skin contact between a parent and their preterm baby. The baby, wearing only a diaper, is held in an upright position against the parent's bare chest with a blanket, shirt, or robe wrapped around the baby's back. Kangaroo Care has been proven to regulate the baby's heart and breathing rates, help the baby maintain body warmth, and promote natural weight gain.

One evening, as my son and I shared Kangaroo Care during a gavage (tube) feeding, I looked around the NICU at the other "pods". The pod that caught my eye was in the far corner of the room, the only glassed-in pod with a separate ventilating system, reserved for the sickest of babies. Inside the room sat a tiny enclosed incubator where two twin girls, born three months early, were huddled in the corner of one bassinet laying side by side, hands touching. I watched their monitors through the glass for a solid hour as their hearts beat in perfect unison. In the moment I was struck with the realization that God did not create us to be alone, he created us to be a part of each other and of community. Even during creation he acknowledged that it was not good for man to be alone; for that reason woman was created to be man's helper. How fortunate to have a God who recognizes our need for community but more importantly, our need for him.

The Lord God said, "It is not good for the man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him." Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man. The man said, "This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called 'woman, ' for she was taken out of man."
Genesis 2:18;22-23

Your thoughts?

Christmas Day Blessings

Born nearly two months early, my little man made his appearance in a rush. Taken quickly in an emergency c-section and then whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, it was nearly 11 hours before I was allowed to see him and two days before I was allowed to touch or hold him. I awoke Christmas morning, aching to hold my little man for the first time. After the long walk from my recovery room to the NICU; I approached the security desk. The nurses greeted me with big smiles, encouraging words, and beautiful gifts: a photo Christmas card of my little man in a stocking and hat, homemade cookies with an encouraging card, and last but not least, a tiny little cashmere puppy dog blanket purchased and donated by parents of a former "graduate" of the NICU. In that moment I was overcome with emotion that was topped only by the tremendous blessing of holding my son for the first time.

Two days ago, my Little Man turned one year old. He is a happy, healthy little boy with an infectious laugh and twinkling eyes. He takes his “lovey” everywhere and falls asleep at night stroking the soft fur of the special blanket. Looking back on that day, I have so many treasured memories: the stolen moment with my son and husband, opening presents with my entire family stuffed in my tiny little hospital room, the visitors, the calls, and of course the generous gift from complete strangers. I’ve thought about that day a lot over the last year and feel compelled to bless others in the same way that we were blessed by the generosity of strangers. Yesterday our little family made a trek out to the NICU where my little man spent the first month of his life to provide gifts for the families in the NICU in a tradition that we intend to make annual. I don’t share this story for a pat on the back but to recognize how truly blessed my family was by a seemingly small gesture. Every day we have the opportunity to bless others with seemingly small things as well: kind words, encouragement, cards, prayers, even a smile. How have you blessed or been blessed this holiday season?

But just as you excel in everything—in faith, in speech, in knowledge, in complete earnestness and in your love for us—see that you also excel in this grace of giving.
2 Corinthians 8:7

Your thoughts?

Wonderfully Made

Saturday is the year anniversary of the arrival of our preemie son and as I prepare to celebrate his first birthday I can't help but reflect on the journey we traveled in the months preceding his birth. I first went into labor when I was only four and a half months along, and again four weeks later. For months we tried everything possible to keep him in the womb because we thought that the longer he was in utero the better chance he had of survival. Days before our Little Man's arrival, still 8 weeks before his due date, I began to go into labor for the third time in the pregnancy. I was hospitalized, and despite all medical interventions, it appeared that the doctors would be unable to stop the labor. The gravity of the situation finally hit me when a representative from the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit came down to discuss all of the possible complications and defects that are typically inherent with premature babies. Three days later, my tiny son arrived in a flurry and an emergency c-section.

We later found out that our when the doctor had opened the womb to remove our sweet little boy that she had found the umbilical cord wrapped tightly around his neck and that just two minutes later would have been too late to save his life. Little did we know that our baby boy had been trying to tell us he needed to come out because he was tangled up in the one place we thought he was safest. I can't help but acknowledge that God had a plan for our little man that is and was far better than anything we had planned.

As Little Man begins his second year of life, I find myself excited to know that God already has a plan for this year, and the next, and the next, and the next. He knows the kind of man my little boy will become, he knows what he will do for a living, whom he will marry, how many children he will have and the kind of impact he will have on the world and in the Christian faith.

"For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful, I know that full well.

My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.
When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,
your eyes saw my unformed body.
All the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be."
Psalm 139:13-16

Your thoughts?

P.S. Many thanks to all of you who have continually checked my blog for new posts even though I have been MIA. You are loved!

Black Ice

I had only been legally driving for about 5 months when a really bad ice storm hit the Dallas Metroplex. My dad tried to warn me about the dangers of driving in icy conditions and about the danger of ‘black ice’ but in my cocky 16 year old brain I was annoyed that he even tried to warn me. I had been driving without incident for about 25 minutes when I turned onto a backstreet to head to my friend’s house and I had my first encounter with black ice. I felt the first shake of the sliding tires and waited for the car to correct itself when I realized I was heading into the lane next to me, which was occupied by another car just ahead of me. I panicked and jerked the wheel to the right which of course set my car spinning, I tried to correct my mistake but the more effort I made, the more the car did the exact opposite of what I wanted. Despite every effort to travel down the straight narrow lanes of the road, the car did everything I didn’t want it to do. In panic I finally let go of the wheel and let the car continue to spin until I came to a stop, two lanes over, facing the wrong direction. Fortunately the only other car on the road had since left and I was alone long enough to take a deep breath, turn the car around and proceed with newfound caution.

I can’t count the number of times my spiritual life has been like those terrifying moments on black ice. Despite every effort to walk in the path that God wants me to travel I find myself doing the exact opposite of what I want to do and regardless of the feeble-minded efforts my human spirit makes I realize that I can do nothing until I release control and allow God to direct my path.

I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.
Romans 7:18-20

Your thoughts?

Opportunity Knocks

A couple of nights ago, my mom and I took my son to the city's annual tree-lighting ceremony so that we could get a picture of my little guy with Santa Claus in his vintage sleigh. Although we arrived nearly 30 minutes before the pictures were scheduled to begin, the line for Santa was already wrapped around the side of the building. I snagged a spot in line and my mom took off with my son to go see the live reindeer. I settled in for the long-haul waiting and people watching. Several minutes went by as I observed quietly from my perch at the end of the line when the man in front of me made a comment about my son. I politely replied and returned to my people watching. A few minutes went by and the man made a comment about the weather and then asked me a question. I replied, and then returned to my people watching. Another comment, another reply and I started getting annoyed thinking, 'Great, this guy is going to talk my ear off for the next 45 minutes." I stood there annoyed, but politely engaging in the conversation and it wasn't until I got home that evening that it hit me like a ton of bricks; here was this guy reaching out to me, desperately trying to connect when I should be the one reaching out to him. He had naturally and easily opened the door for me to share my life and my faith with him and not only had I not recognized the opportunity, I was annoyed by the 'disturbance'. I think working in ministry has somewhat dulled me to the evangelism opportunities all around me because 95% of the time I am surrounded by people from my church. Something I once did so naturally and easily had suddenly become foreign to me. I praise God that he opened my eyes to the opportunity and pray that he continues to bring me opportunities to share my faith. May I not be so thick-skulled next time.

How, then, can they call on the one they have not believed in? And how can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? And how can they hear without someone preaching to them? And how can they preach unless they are sent? As it is written, "How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!"
Romans 10:14-15

Your thoughts?

The Book Of Love

My freshman year in college I began writing in a journal that those close to me have come to know as ‘The Book of Love’. Over the years more than fifty people have contributed to my book, people from all over the world and in several different languages sharing long lists of the things they love. When I first started the book I made it a personal habit to contribute a new entry every year and then take the time to read back over all of the entries but as life has become really hectic I’ve somehow let six years go by without doing either.

Just last week as I began pulling down all of my Christmas decorations for the year, I stumbled upon the Book of Love. Sitting on the floor of my freezing cold attic, I opened the first dusty page and began reading. An hour later, snuggled up in an easy chair in front of the living room fire I continued pouring over each entry, my heart warming with each page.

Writing down the things you love is an interesting exercise, one that takes consideration. For some it creates warm fuzzies, for others it creates an opportunity to reprioritize but by sharing your entry publicly you have the opportunity to bless others. I’ve included my latest entry at the bottom of this post but before you read it, I’d be honored if you would consider writing your own entry as a comment on this blog. Begin by writing your first name, your age, and the state where you live (if you are comfortable) then fill as much space as you desire describing everything you love. The exercise works much better if you do not read other’s entries until after you have written your own.

Meagan, 27 years old, Texas

I love this book and the memories it holds for me. I love looking back over the years and seeing the paths God has brought me down. I love grace, forgiveness, second chances and fresh starts. I love perspective and knowing a little bit of it can change anything and everything. I love learning new lessons and knowing that I don’t HAVE to make the same mistake twice. I love that each day is fresh, with no mistakes in it yet and that if I am going to make a mistake I can choose to make a NEW mistake. I love being a mom and the front row view of a young boy’s discoveries that it affords me. I love waking up, walking into my son’s room and seeing the beautiful smile that lights up his face when he sees me. I love soft, curly, baby-scented locks of hair and the smell of baby skin right after a bath. I love fat little feet, pudgy dimpled hands, toothless grins and drool covered chins. I love giggles and smiles, snuggles and tickles, even wails and screams. I love ‘watching the wheels turn’ as my son explores, tests, and learns about our great big world. I love being a parent and finally understanding the magnitude of God’s love for his son and what the sacrifice of that son really meant. I love the way becoming a parent has strengthened my relationship with my parents and increased my respect for them ten-fold. I love being on the front side of beginning our little family and daydreaming about our future children. I love talking and praying about our hopes, dreams, and the wonderful things God has in store for our family. I love being a part of a church body and the accountability and opportunity it provides for meaningful relationships with other Christians. I love having Christian friends who are warm and friendly and who truly embody the spirit of Christ. I love knowing those friends would not only welcome newcomers and nonbelievers but would love them and embrace them. I love the opportunity to share my story and the fact that God trusts us enough to allow us to share the greatest story ever told. I love knowing that even though I’ve tried to create a list of the things that I love that the love I have in my heart for God and the blessings he has given me is too immeasurable to be contained in a book.

Love never fails.
1 Corinthians 13:8

What do you love?

Places I've Been

Here is a sampling of some of the places I've been this week; I hope these blogs are as beneficial to you as they were to me.

Check out this post by Jim Martin entitled, "The One You Can Count On" about some of the disappointments we all experience during the holiday season.

Check out this month's edition of the Christian Women Online Magazine.

Check out "A Frugal Christmas" by financial guru, Dave Ramsey, about not allowing Christmas to send you into debt along with helpful suggestions for inexpensive gifting. I don't know about you but I definitely needed the reminder!

Where have you been?

Wag More, Bark Less

My senior year of high school, our school president decided it would be a good idea for all high school students to spend a portion of their senior year doing service hours for the community. Many students volunteered to help out with paperwork in the front office or clean up trash around the campus but I got permission to volunteer at the nearby retirement home.

At first I really enjoyed the work because I started out in the assisted living division delivering packages, magazines, and mail but after some time my supervisor moved me to the nursing home division so that I could be a wing 'companion'. At first I just made door-to-door visits replenishing water cups and ice chips but as I became a more 'permanent' face on the floor the residents began to trust me and even confide in me thus moving me into the 'companion' role. Most of the time I really enjoyed making my rounds and spent many an hour laughing, singing, listening, playing chicken foot, and just being a much needed friend to some very lonely people, but more often that not I left the nursing home emotionally and physically exhausted because of the negativity I channeled by being a listening ear. Don't get me wrong, I love the opportunity to learn from other's experiences but those opportunities were actually pretty rare because most of the listening involved complaints about the staff or accommodations, venting about family members, or just really detailed accounts regarding health problems or the aging process. There was, however, one woman in particular that made every day spent in the nursing home a complete joy. Eunice was an 84-year-old diabetic woman who had recently had both of her legs removed and was by far the most energetic, optimistic person I have ever encountered who, despite great personal set backs from her health and age, never let the obstacles influence her attitude. She was a joy in my life and a dear friend who was fond of saying, "Wag more, bark less." I'll never forget the day I came to visit on my day off and found her room empty. I sought out the floor nurse to inquire about my friend and the look on the nurse's face made my heart sank as I realized the news she was trying to break to me. I cried the whole way home and resolved never to return thinking I couldn't handle the heartache of developing friendships only to lose them unexpectedly. As I thought about Eunice's life and the credo that she lived by every day I realized by not returning I would miss the opportunity to develop the kind of relationship I had with Eunice.

I've been doing a lot of complaining for the past few weeks because of stress, health, finances, and every other thing that has stolen my joy. As I sat at the family Thanksgiving table this weekend I was struck by the blessing of having all of my family sitting at one table together, relatively healthy, and in good spirits. In that moment I was reminded of Eunice and the way that she found the good in every situation and I realized how much I've been 'barking' and how little I've been 'wagging'. Thank you, Eunice, for your words of wisdom and the much needed reminder to rejoice in all circumstances.

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus.
1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Your thoughts?

Nodding And Bobbing

Most people around me know that I don't get much sleep. It isn't that I don't require it, I do; it is just that when I am stressed or depressed, sleep is the first thing to go. For the past few weeks I've been running on about 3 - 4 hours of sleep a night, tops. The Saturday before last however I managed a full 9 hours of sleep in a row; not even the baby woke me from my sound sleep. The funny thing is that I got so much sleep that night that my body didn't want to stop sleeping when the alarm went off early Sunday morning. I was literally dragging myself around all morning and when I finally sat down for worship on the second row, it was all I could do to keep my eyes open. I am pretty sure my inability to stay awake had little to do with the worship service or the content of the sermon but I was fighting my eyelids the entire hour and a half and that was with a squirmy baby in my lap.

I am sure my nodding off looked comical (although I doubt our preacher thought so) but the really funny thing is that when you are nodding off like that, you don't realize how obvious it is. In many ways, nodding off feels like you are just groggy but still awake, when in actuality you are so groggy that you don't even notice your own nodding and bobbing because as your body is slowly falling asleep so are your sensors.

I've really felt like I've been holding things together for the past few weeks but just the other day, when my best friend was visiting, she sought out my antidepressants and begged me to start taking them again. In that moment I realized I didn't have things together like I thought and that I was nodding and bobbing but not noticing it because my sensors were dulled.

Our spiritual lives can be like that too sometimes, can't they? We can be so mentally, emotionally, and spiritually exhausted that we don't even realize ourselves drifting away? How do you stay alert?

Then he returned to his disciples and found them sleeping. "Simon," he said to Peter, "are you asleep? Could you not keep watch for one hour? Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the body is weak."

Mark 14:36-38

Your thoughts?

Traditions and Legacies

"God has delivered us, He has parted waters for us, He has made water gush forth from rocks and sent us our own manna from heaven. He has brought us into our own Promised Land. Will I miss the opportunity to tell the story to our children?"
~ Ann Voskamp, Holy Experience ~

As the holidays approach, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about legacies and traditions. My husband and I are at a really fun stage of holiday planning because our son is young enough that he doesn’t have any expectations and because we haven’t been married long enough or lived in one place long enough to have established a holiday routine. I see nothing but opportunity before me; the opportunity to create what will become our beloved family traditions, the opportunity to intentionally shape the experiences that will ultimately shape my son, and the opportunity to infuse God in every part of our plans. While I know that my son’s spiritual development will most likely not be shaped by the one or two religious holidays in a year, I love the chance to be proactive in my planning instead of reactive and am grateful for the chance to intentionally plan these important landmarks. What holiday traditions most influenced who you are today and how did your family infuse God into your traditions?

These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads.
Deuteronomy 6:6-8

Your thoughts?

Swap

Growing up, my sister and I were very fortunate to live in a neighborhood brimming with other children our age. Among the many, there were two sisters we loved to play with more than all the others, not only because they lived just down the street from us, but because we were all very close in age (6, 5, 4, and 3). I remember many a Sunday when the four of us would run to our mothers and beg for them to allow us to ‘swap’ sisters for the day, each pair of girls going to a different house.

As the younger of the two in our swap, I was often instructed as to what role I would play in our pretend sessions and I was very often given the role of dad or husband, neither of which I wanted to play. We would almost always argue, I would pout in protest, and then she would threaten to go home if I didn’t do it her way. Eventually one of two things would happen; I would succumb to the threat and play the role I abhorred so that I wouldn’t have to spend the afternoon alone or my mom would intervene and distract us with a game or challenge.

In just the few short years I’ve been in ministry I’ve had the misfortune of seeing many individuals, couples, and families “pack up their dollies and go home” because they didn’t agree with something being done in the church. The really sad part is that most of the time the issues at hand aren’t based on anything theological but based solely on preferences, tradition, or even really petty things like carpet color or bulletin design. I heard a song this afternoon that made me think back to some of these instances I’ve witnessed and at first it made me laugh but as I listened to it the second and third time, it really made me sad.

It was there in the bulletin
We're leaving soon
After the bake sale to raise funds for fuel
The rocket is ready and we're going to
Take our church to the moon

There'll be no one there to tell us we're odd
No one to change our opinions of God
Just lots of rocks and this dusty sod
Here at our church on the moon

We know our liberties we know our rights
We know how to fight a very good fight
Just get that last bag there and turn out the light
We're taking our church to the moon
We're taking our church to the moon
We'll be leaving soon

To the Moon
by Sara Groves

The church I currently attend is 151 years old and holds the distinction of being the oldest church in the city of Dallas. As the neighborhood surrounding our church has continued to grow and change in the last several years, many of our sister churches have made the decision to move in favor of a more desirable or popular location or to close their doors all together. In the wake of our most recent anniversary the leadership of our church took a moment to step back and take a hard look at the effectiveness of our current location verses the potential effectiveness of a new location and made the brave decision to stay in our current location but to make a conscious effort to grow in such a way that will help us become relevant and effective in our immediate community.

Many churches today faced with a dilemma similar to the one our fellowship is facing often have trouble deciding whether or not to pack up and move to a new location or stay in their current location and change the way they do ministry. While many thrive from the challenge, many others become irrelevant in the new situation and therefore slowly ‘die’ off until there is no one left. The decision our leadership made was by no means an easy decision and there will undoubtedly be significant growing pains as we try to become more Christ-like and make the changes necessary to be effective and relevant in a neighborhood full of faces that look nothing like the faces on the inside our auditorium but I think the decision is the right decision. Please keep our fellowship in your prayers as we venture to allow God to use us for his work.

We proclaim to you what we have seen and heard, so that you also may have fellowship with us. And our fellowship is with the Father and with his Son, Jesus Christ.
1 John 1:3

Your thoughts?

The Cold

Texas is known for many, many things including unpredictable weather. It is November and yet the past week our highs have been in the upper 70’s low 80’s, definitely not characteristic of mid-November weather. This morning however I woke to the sound of hard, violent rain and gusting winds and when I checked my trusty thermostat I was surprised at how cold it was outside. It wasn’t until after dark that I ventured outside for the first time so that I could gas up my car and avoid the morning rush. As I stood at the pump, the first gust of wind began to blow and I shivered at the harshness of it but thought to myself that it was tolerable and hunkered down in my sweatshirt. As I stood there waiting I noticed that the wind was blowing harder and harder and as the chill searched for my bones I began to beg the pump to go faster. I topped off my tank, tore off my receipt, rushed back to the warmth of my car and slammed the door shut on the cold. It took about 5 seconds for the chill to wear off and then I began to notice that my entire body was bracing against the cold, even though the cold was no longer there. I took a deep breath as each muscle slowly relaxed and my posture began to straighten. It didn’t happen all at once, in fact, I was still very much hunched into the self-protecting ball my body had made as I drove away but even without the winds blowing my body was still wary of the pain.

Things have been pretty uncomfortable in my life for the past week and a half and as I approach day 8 of being a ‘single mom’, not being able to see my husband because of his treatment and week two of some pretty tough work stuff I am finding myself ‘bracing from the cold’. Today was a work from home day, something I typically really enjoy because my work is peppered with giggles, smiles and snuggles from my little boy but I have to confess that stress kept me from enjoying the day or my time with my son. As I reflect back on my day I am struck less by the stress that I felt and more by the fact that I allowed it to affect me the way that it did, that I allowed it to diminish the blessings of the day even after the work day was finished. I allowed my pain to become something else, something worse, something outside of me that affected someone else’s day…my son’s.

I think too often we allow our own circumstances to both dictate and excuse bad behavior. If I am really called to live a Christ-like life I have to live that life in whatever circumstances I am placed.

I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.
Ephesians 4:1-2

Your thoughts?

The Culture Of Dump

I don't remember how old I was the first time I went to the city dump; I just know I've probably been back hundreds of times in my short 27 years. When I was a child, my dad was a roofer and a trip to the dump was a daily occurrence if not more often. Despite the questionable smell that emanated from the dump, I always enjoyed our trips there because I got to ride in my dad's big red dump truck and because he would let me pull the lever that would make the bed rise and dump all of the shingles into the massive pile of waste. As a teenager it was even more fun because he let me drive that enormous truck and we would get a big kick out of all the strange looks received from fellow drivers.

I would imagine most people don't ever give pause to think about the dump until they do a remodel or are involved in tree trimming. I would also venture to guess that most people, unless they live right by one, have no idea where their nearest dump is located. If you think about it, it really isn't that surprising because we live in a 'dump culture'. A dump culture, if you will, is one in which no thought is given to the waste we dispose of every day. I'm not just talking about physical waste but emotional waste as well. One of the most common forms of emotional dumping I have ever seen is the anxiety dump.

A few months ago, a well-known man in the church approached me just before service started and began questioning my methodology for something I was doing. The more he spoke, the more abrasive he became, until finally I felt like he was just asking me questions to test my knowledge and somehow try to trick me. It was annoying and embarrassing because he did all of this in front of an audience of three people. After he left I was in such a foul mood that when my husband returned from changing my son's diaper he asked me what was wrong and I launched into the story in great detail and dramatics and was cut short by the beginning of our service. Just telling my husband about what happened made me feel worlds better and by the time service was over I was completely over the moment and had moved on but little did I know that my 'anxiety dump' was brewing something fierce in my husband. It wasn't until after church that I looked up to see my husband beelining across the room in true 'man on a mission' fashion that I turned to my mom and said, "What is Travis doing?" I followed the site line for his path and realized he was headed straight for the man who had spoken to me before church. I immediately rushed over to my husband and said, "What do you think you are doing?" he replied, "I am gonna give him a piece of my mind! No one talks to my wife like that and I am going to make sure he never does it again!" I grabbed the hand of my shaking husband and pulled him aside; thanking him for wanting to come to my rescue but explaining to him that what I had done to him (anxiety dump) was unfair and uncalled for.

We are all guilty of the anxiety dump at one time or another because we care not what happens to the person on the receiving end and are more concerned with alleviating our own fears or uncomfortable moments. I get a lot of anxiety dumped on me in this business and it used to really eat away at my happiness, still does sometimes, but I am fortunate to be in the presence of several great men who have mastered the art of the anxiety 'block' and who point the anxiety back its rightful owner instead of taking it on their own shoulders. It is not to say that a person can't be compassionate or listen to the problems of someone dealing with a great deal of anxiety, it just means that the person on the receiving end must learn not to take ownership of misplaced anxiety. May it be so in my life.

An anxious heart weighs a man down,
but a kind word cheers him up.
Proverbs 12:25

Your thoughts?

One Step At A Time

I am, by nature, a pretty fast-paced person. I walk fast, I talk fast, I make quick decisions and I like to think on my feet. For the most part, being ‘fast’ has served me well but there have been many times when I have paid the price for speaking too quickly, making a rash decision or jumping into something without all of the information. There have only been a handful of times in my life when I’ve had to slow myself down or have been physically slowed down by an illness or other circumstance. Lately however, there is a part of my life that has slowed to a tortoise-like speed…walking. My little guy has been walking for several weeks now and absolutely hates being carried anywhere anymore. I’ve found that I have to allow extra time wherever I go because I have to factor in the amount of time it will take the two of us to walk from place to place. As a fast-paced person, I confess I easily get annoyed at having to wait but what I’ve noticed in the weeks that my son and I have slowed down to walk (or totter) hand in hand have been some of the most enjoyable weeks of my life. It is amazing the things you see when you take life one step at a time; I highly recommend a stroll with a 10-month old if you get the chance, you never know what flower, bug, leaf, stick, piece of paper or ball of lint you might find in your path.

O LORD, our Lord,
how majestic is your name in all the earth!
You have set your glory above the heavens.
From the lips of children and infants
you have ordained praise.
Psalm 8:1-2

Your thoughts?

Places I've Been

In case you can't tell, it has been an unusually stressful week for me. Although I haven't been very diligent about writing, I have been reading quite a few of my fellow blogger's writings. Here is a sampling of some of the places I've been this week; I hope these blogs are as beneficial to you as they were to me.

This month's edition of Christian Women Online is up and is fantastic as usual. Be sure to check out the interview on Darlene Zschech.

Christian Women Online is hosting their Sweet Scent Blog Awards and is soliciting help nominating award winning blogs. There are over 650 contributors on the CWO blog ring and I for one have thoroughly enjoyed reading through the ring and nominating writers. Happy reading!

Take a moment to check out my mom's blog Accentuate The Positive for a great 3-part series on potential.

We may not be experiencing fall-like weather but our family is definitely getting ready for some holiday cheer. Check out Diary of a SAHM for some Mr. Linkys on Holiday Traditions and be sure to leave some of your own.

Where have you been? I'll be back on Monday.

The Change

For about the past month and a half my husband’s health has been declining. Because the decline has been gradual it hasn’t been nearly as noticeable to me as it has to those around me. Looking back I can’t believe the changes he has undergone because they’ve happened in such small increments. When he announced to me that he had lost almost 30 lbs in the past weeks despite eating enough food for two or three people I was shocked to the point of disbelief. I mean I’ve noticed that his clothes were fitting differently and that his face was looking thinner and his eyes more prominent but it wasn’t until people at church began asking me if everything was ok that I really began to notice how much he had changed.

No worries, nothing too serious, just a thyroid disorder and since the thyroid affects just about everything he has a lot of symptoms. The most amazing part of this experience has been how many people have shown concern for us. Most have assumed that were having troubles at home (Graves disease causes the eyes to bulge and water constantly so my husband always looks like he has been crying) so it has been a really positive experience to know that so many have the courage to step out on our friendship and ask such personal questions about our relationship. Praise God for friends and believers who care more about us as a couple than the awkwardness of confrontation.

Perfume and incense bring joy to the heart,
and the pleasantness of one's friend springs from his earnest counsel.
Proverbs 27:9

Thoughts?

Growth Spurt

My son has never been much of sleeper; sleeping is inconsistent and ineffective at best. Early on we discovered that he would sleep longer if held or if someone slept with him and although we were tempted to let him co-sleep we decided that it was best for him to learn to sleep on his own and save the snuggle time for naps and church. Lately, however, he has been sleeping non-stop, sometimes even falling asleep while sitting up! Yesterday when he took four two-hour naps after having slept 10 hours the night before, I began to get worried. I talked to his pediatrician who assured me that everything was fine, "Babies grow when they are sleeping so if he hasn't had a growth spurt in a while he might just be working on a big one" she assured me.

What a concept. I've always thought of spiritual growth as a time when I am trying new things, stepping out of my comfort zone, or seeking to learn more about God but never as a time of rest. God found rest so vital that he not only took a day to rest himself but implemented a day of rest for the Jews. I wonder how much I would grow if I took the time to rest in God?

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say of the Lord, "He is my refuge and my fortress, my God, in whom I trust".
Psalm 91:1-2

Your thoughts?

Tips

In the 15 years that I have been a part of the work force I have had a number of different jobs both in and outside of ministry (in no particular order); babysitter, carpool driver, office assistant, 911 dispatcher, waitress, bartender, hostess, telephone operator, companion, check processor, box office agent, campus ministry intern, office manager, house sitter, cook, and last but not least technology minister.

In the three years that I spent working in the food industry I met my fair share of interesting people from all walks of life. As a general rule, restaurants can legally pay waiters and waitresses less than half of minimum wage with the expectation that patrons will make up the difference in the amount of tip they provide their server. For the most part, that concept was fulfilled every day with occasional surprises like the $20, $50 or $100 tip but more often than not there was the penny, stick of gum, or religious tract tip. In my experience, those types of tips usually came from one of two types of people: a group of teens on a Friday night or a group of Christians fresh out of church on a Sunday afternoon. The first time I received the religious tract tip after working a 16-top table for two hours on a Sunday, my only table by the way, I was shocked. But Sunday after Sunday I was increasingly surprised at how demanding many Christians were and then how unwilling they were to compensate me for my service. Even as recently as a few Sundays ago I went out to eat with a group of people from church and overheard a man at my table say to his wife, “Ten percent? No way, she only refilled my drink three times.”

Many times ministry is a lot like the service industry because church members often feel ownership towards the staff members because they “pay their salary”. But the concept is not unique to members; often fellow Christians or even co-workers treat church workers differently than they would a co-worker in the corporate world because 1) they are constantly in the spotlight and likely under a tremendous amount of pressure 2) they can get away with behaving badly because churches don’t operate under the same laws that ensure appropriate behavior in the corporate world and 3) because stakes are eternal and therefore allowances are made for the greater good. The whole thing bothers me tremendously because as Christians I believe we are called to a higher standard of consideration and care, regardless of the pressures or stakes.

I am by no means perfect; I can think of many times when I’ve had to put myself or my attitude in check because of bad behavior. Likewise I have to remind myself that people who fall into the above category most likely do not intend to do harm or cause discord and may even be completely unaware of the way they are behaving. That person is my brother/sister and needs to be loved with the love of Christ just as much as the rest of us.

Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.
Galatians 6:9-10

Your thoughts?

Half Dome

Many years ago I was invited to attend a friend’s family reunion in the beautiful valley of Yosemite National Park in northern California. I look back on that trip with fond memories not just because of the beautiful creation I was allowed to enjoy but because of the familial fellowship I witnessed. At one point during the week long camping trip I was invited to hike the 17 mile trail to the top of Half Dome. If you’ve never had the privilege of seeing the magnificent beauty that is Half Dome, then you are missing out. Standing tall at an elevation of 8,842 feet, this magnanimous granite rock is one of the most beautiful and most recognized formations in the world.

The morning of the climb we woke at 4:00 am to begin the day-long hike; it was at that point that I realized I was by no means prepared for what the dome had in store for me. I felt ill as I watched fellow hikers pack the supplies necessary for the grueling hike; water purifying pills, energy bars, socks, mole skin, toilet paper, sunscreen, bug repellant, canteen, flashlights, jackets, etc. An hour into the hike I was already hurting as every muscle burned from the first mile of rock stairs that we climbed without stopping. I was floored when I found out it was the first of 12 hours that we would be hiking during the day and quickly realized that I was going to have to pace myself if I was ever going to make the final mile of cable climbing to the top of the dome. By noon my whole body was shaking and the blisters on my feet were bleeding from the tension but after I refueled my body with much needed food and water I pressed on toward the goal, pushing through the pain. Hours later when we reached the base of the dome and prepared for the most grueling and dangerous part of the climb, the cables, I began to rethink my commitment. But after a quick rest and pep talk I rejoined the group and completed the last mile of the hike to finally arrive at the top of one of the most amazing experiences I have ever had.

Looking back I know I would have regretted a decision to forgo the last mile and am so glad that I pushed through the pain and fear that resulted in a view and sense of accomplishment that I will never forget.

Right now I am dealing with a ‘half dome’ of the home-grown kind. Because I work in technology, the majority of the work that I do doesn’t produce any visible fruit. In fact, most people (co-workers included) don’t even know what I do until something goes wrong. In the recent months my job responsibility has grown and continues to grow exponentially and everyone has a different idea of what is most important and what takes priority and as a result I am really starting to feel the pain of the climb. Unfortunately, in this case, there is no visible end in site and the pressure is really starting to kick me in the teeth. I am keenly aware that I have two choices; I can push through the pain and make the most of the abilities God has given me or I can turn back and head home. My natural inclination is to give up but if I learned anything from my day of hiking Half Dome is that the pain is necessary to reach the next level. Your prayers are coveted as my knees are weak, my feet are covered in blisters, and the air keeps getting thinner.

We rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.

Romans 5:2-5

Your thoughts?

Uncommon

The other day my brother sent me this really interesting series of pictures and the accompanying story (don’t stop reading).

“In a zoo in California, a mother tiger gave birth to a rare set of triplet tiger cubs. Unfortunately, due to complications in the pregnancy, the cubs were born prematurely and due to their tiny size, they died shortly after birth. The mother tiger after recovering from the delivery, suddenly started to decline in health, although physically she was fine. The veterinarians felt that the loss of her litter had caused the tigress to fall into a depression. The doctors decided that if the tigress could surrogate another mother's cubs, perhaps she would improve. After checking with many other zoos across the country, the depressing news was that there were no tiger cubs of the right age to introduce to the mourning mother. The veterinarians decided to try something that had never been tried in a zoo environment. Sometimes a mother of one species will take on the care of a different species but the only "orphans" that could be found quickly, were a litter of wiener pigs. The zoo keepers and vets wrapped the piglets in tiger skin and placed the babies around the mother tiger. Would they become cubs or pork chops?

Take a look ...”

Ever the skeptic I immediately went to my trusty snopes.com to find out the validity of the entire thing and was surprised to find out the pictures were not only real, the story only had minor inaccuracies.

I am drawn to the pictures because they are so unusual and yet conceptually they really shouldn’t be ... isn’t this what we, as Christians, are called to do every single day? To reach out to the motherless, the friendless, the hopeless and draw them into the fold of Christ?

"When you do the common things in life in an uncommon way,
You command the attention of the world"

Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 4who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God.
2 Corinthians 1:3-4

Your thoughts?