A Gouda will do Ya

I don't know what is wrong with me.

I love cheese.

No. I mean I really love it. I'm eating it all the time. Right now, I think if I could I would dip my body into a tub of it.

And then I just spent 5 minutes thinking of how my sanctification resembles the cheese process.

Something is terribly wrong.

Maybe I need to pee on a stick. (you ladies know what i mean...)

Stress does funny things to me.

The Incredible Disappearing Boy

I have made a heartbreaking observation.

My son is invisible to others.

When he was a baby and a toddler, people would often stop us and remark on his hair or how cute he was or how articulate he seemed to be. It truly seemed like we couldn't go anywhere without being stopped and gushed upon. But now that he is 7, almost 8, he barely registers on other's consciousness unless he is being naughty or obnoxious.

Then I realized that this seems to be true of almost all other young boys I see. No wonder they fall into trouble. They are in the gap and the shadows.

Babies are cute. Toddlers are funny. But after that... what happens? Doesn't it seem like they don't register until they are teenagers and 'look like trouble'?

Because my son is so entirely competent I forget how much he still really needs me. He doesn't need me to make his breakfast or tie his shoes or wipe his rear. He can spend hours on his own reading or creating a new Lego masterpiece. But he does still need me and his dad to listen to him, to hear what he has to say. Doesn't he? He does still need to know that this world sees him and that he matters and can have an impact. Right?

So do me a little favor... the next time you see a 7 year old boy in the grocery store, please stop and remark at what a smart/funny/ _____ boy he must be. Look him right in his blue marble eyes. Let him know he is not invisible.

Our Weekend

Gary's parents have a wonderful place in Paso Robles that we get to escape to every now and then. Cal and Livi love running through the corn, swinging from the big oaks, digging in the dirt and shooting dad's old BB gun. They also had fun kite flying, sleeping outside and getting really dirty! It is only made better when their cousins can join them!

Being home is going to seem a little boring this week in comparison...

Whispering Truth

This poem is from a wonderful blog I discovered this afternoon: Everyday Miracle - her writing is rich and fantastic. I'm posting this for all of my friends who are, or have, adopted their own sweet, brown baby girls in every shade and size...

You are heroes to me.

Beads, Braids, and Truth - by Sherri Gragg

Sweet, brown baby girls of every shade and size,
Wrapped safely in cocoon and nest of home.
Mommies know it can not last,
One day they will explore all alone.

Baby girls can’t stay forever.
The big, wide world will call,
And time’s bittersweet work will change,
Sweet brown girls one and all.

A caterpillar does not stay,
Always snuggled in cocoon,
She emerges as a butterfly,
Changed all too soon.

The smallest bird of soft down and bright eye,
Will one day spread her wings,
Leaving behind safe shelter,
Finding her song to sing.

And baby girls must fly as well,
Into the world they must go.
So, Mommies, while they can,
Whisper truth while they braid, bead, and bow.

I'm a total snot - I know....

I apologize in advance to those of you who love the American Girl dolls...

I had sent this picture to a friend of mine once and then Kristina had inspired me with her post about how hard it was to find black baby-dolls.













AG Doll and Accessories = $102.00




















Well-loved black baby doll hand-carried down to Haiti by one of our generous parents = $Priceless

Psalm 13:1-2

If we are being honest - being a Christian is a lonely prospect some days. This post by InternetMonk blew me away. How did he know?!?!

To read the full text (and it is worth it) click here.

"I miss you, God.

It’s like you’re not around.

I see your world. I’m with your people. I’m surrounded by books about you. I read about you and talk about you. I teach others about you.

But I miss you.

I believe you’re there. I believe the Bible. I believe in Jesus. I don’t doubt your existence at all.

I miss you.

You. Not your people, or songs about you or books about you. I miss you.

I don’t miss all the theology in the books, the blogs and the lectures. I don’t miss the points of all the sermons. Or the answers to questions.

I have all those. Far more than I need, to be honest. But when David says, “Why are you hiding from me?” I know exactly what he is talking about.

I’m missing you, God.

...keep reading

Three Angels Christian Academy

Alrighty, I've been working on trying to get our Student Sponsorship program up and running and put together this little video today to promote it. And being a bit more honest, I would rather mess around on my computer than do paperwork right now...

Here is a sneak peak:




If you would like to make a donation in the meantime however just let me know!
shannon@threeangelshaiti.org

Hold me to it...

I'm usually pretty thankful for my lot in life - I enjoy what God has given me (FAR beyond what I deserve fer sure!)

However, today I caught myself mitching and boaning. Nothing major, just the everyday frustrations of being the family chef, dishwasher, waitress and bum-wiper. It just seems as if I'm trudging through quicksand. The moment I get the kitchen clean from breakfast, my counters are littered again with PB&J crusts. Oy! The second I've folded all the towels it seems somebody is out of clean underwear. Geez!

This is especially embarrassing to admit because I have witnessed how the majority of the world tackles their daily chores. I realize that we live in Disneyland compared to 85% of others.

And here resides more proof that there is something broken inside of me. I should be rejoicing to be able to serve the family God has given me in such luxury. Praise Him that my washer/dryer run at night while I sleep and I wake to my automatic coffee maker's daily brew! Yippee-for-me that my stove can whip up Mac n' Cheese and my sink always has hot water at the ready to clean the pot.

Sadly, the best I could do this morning was roll my eyes and let out an exasperated sigh as I had to unload the dishwasher AGAIN. Anyone who reads this has full permission to thwack me on the side of the head if you ever hear me gripe. That is accountability baby!

My Kitchen

Our Kitchen in Haiti

My Laundry Closet

How it gets done in Haiti

Attack of the Slip n' Slide

It was 105 degrees yesterday so I figured it was time to educate my children in the ways of the Slip n' Slide...

I love that Livi is all about the performance and short on words. My son on the other hand... has very specific, detailed descriptions about his planifications...