February 29, 2012

Wintery Weddennessday

1" of ice on the ground, snow on top, and 40mph winds. Yep, sounds like almost March.

I know it's not my usual format for Weddennessday's thought bursts and all, but I thought of two little stories to share with you today instead. Is that okay with you?

A couple of weeks ago I watched an episode of Say Yes To The Dress while husband fell asleep beside me. I don't watch that much anymore because the time has passed for my wedding dress shopping, yo. But watching it that night - with our first anniversary quicly approaching - brought back a flood of white, glittery memories.

I remember the night I bought my dress. I mailed our invitations on my way to the bridal store; Mindy was on the phone with me when I shoved the stack through the narrow blue mouth of the mailbox. It was wet outside, snow melting but quite cold. I met up with a friend to have a drink before walking next door to the store, just to girl it up and calm my excitement.

I remember trying on my dress. It wasn't the first one I tried on, but it was the last. Once I was sure, I walked up and paid outright for the dress like grown up. No payment plans, no credit card, just saved up and bought me a wedding gown. It sunk in at that moment at the cash register that I was really going to marry this man.

Watching the episode, I teared up. I am the luckiest.

It was a Sunday. I can't remember what nudged me that morning - I think it was looking around my kitchen after a week's worth of halfassed chores (by all of us) and noting the mess. The bits of coffee grounds rubbed into the crack beside the coffee pot. The soapy waterspots on the navy grey wall behind the sink. The microwave, with a few splatters. Cat hair EVERYwhere. The closets were chock full of clothes that didn't fit, had holes, or were hung up backwards/on the wrong rack/on the floor. On this day, I declared, we would do church a different way!

We opened the curtains and let in the sunlight; it washed through the dust and flying cat fluff.

A quick trip downstairs brought up the Bose and my iPod cranked out the longest playlist that I have: Christian Music. Bryon didn't hesitate. He knows that I need to be fed by the Word as often as possible and on that day, with my knickers in a knot and not enough time in the day, I needed church by way of Jesus music. All day long.

So we listened and cleaned. I sang every word, standing on the cabinets and stretching to clean the fans.

Also that afternoon I hemmed Hayley's jeans. I was so wrapped up in Phil Wickham that I didn't pay attention and made my top seam too high on the first pair, so I had to rip them out. I was feeling a time crunch with the pile of jeans very tall and my tummy very rumbly and wanting to cook, cook, cook up some Jesus on that day as well. So without thinking, I shoved the pair of wrongly hemmed jeans at Bryon and said, "Here, start ripping the seam out like this." I picked a few to show him how to use the seam-ripper. He didn't flinch. He sat down in the chair beside me and picked and pulled those seams out (and if I'm being honest, it might have taken him a bit longer than it would have a seasoned seamstress, but that was just as well because I fell in love with him beside me on that day) while I hemmed a few more pairs. In between picking he rubbed my leg.

When he was finished helping, he got up to iron and read Revelations to the kids. It came about because we were listening to Phillips, Craig, and Dean and all the kids know the words, but he wanted to make sure they KNEW the Word. So, he hauled out the black Bible and read to them, "Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was and is and is to come..." They listened, enthralled. I teared up watching him lead them. GOD GUYS ARE THE COOLEST.

We went to church that day, oh yes. It was a wonderful Jesus-filled day of congregation within our family. I found God on the top of my refrigerator, the back of Mabel's closet, taking out a mistaken hem, and standing in my kitchen. What a glorious day.

February 28, 2012


I heard David talk about his new song, about how it was written as his band made the decision to break apart and move on toward new ministries.

The Hand of God feels like chaos. It's not supposed to be comfortable. Comfort is human: fear of the unknown. It's supposed to feel different when we're being obedient to him. Like a tornado in our soul, His Will whooshing us all around. It takes us OUTSIDE of our comfort zone. But you know what? It's not scary and dark. It's full of L I G H T. And it's quite a ride.

Shine your light so I can see you.
Hold me up so I can be near you.


February 27, 2012

Harriet & Maude

On a recent Saturday, we met up at Grandma Sharon's house to swim.

Hayley's been taking private lessons and while she is nowhere near graceful I would now consider her "drown proof." She jumped in with last year's polka-dotted swimsuit, new goggles, and her short Dorothy Hammill haircut.

Mabel was suited up with a hand-me-down getup, new goggles, and a pink camoflage lifejacket.

Together, they made quite a splash.

They look like Harriet & Maude to me. One slightly (and only slightly) prissier than the other.

February 24, 2012


So last week, we were asked to take a work trip to North Dakota. Actually, I was asked - but I asked if my husband could come with. We sort of don't operate well apart, drawing strength from each other every day. I didn't want to drive alone and leave him home with the kids anyway. So we made a family trip out of it.

It was not a vacation. But it was a BREAK. It was awesome.

We left Thursday night, driving to Fargo to stay. Fargo is lovely; we will go back. Mabel was asleep with her eyes open within 10 minutes of leaving our garage.

We spent the night and slept. SLEPT. This was momentous because Husband's job has become much for intense recently. We needed this break, this pause in our lives so, so much. On Friday morning we woke to drive into Bismarck for work. We kept busy in our usual ways.

There were funny faces and there was singing. Wanna see?

What you aren't seeing is that Bryon was a dancing FOOL beside me, but only when I turned the camera away from him. He's sort of camera shy sometimes. He allows me to have the platform. You know, the Platform of Attention. I love that platform; I cannot lie.  Nevertheless, I give to you a moment of our personal lives, which sadly does include my husband flipping me off. Don't worry, I  made him pay for it later.

The chair dancing was so exhausting that Mabel fell asleep again with her eyeballs still open.  Again. Blech.

Little details that I want to remember...

Bismarck was lovely. Usually this time of year, it's covered in FEET of snow. Because we are so far below the usual snow amounts for the year (topping 30" usually), the state capital of North Dakota was unusually green. Green and brown. Right.

Bismarck is remarkably quaint in the sweetest way. The signage is all old-school. Small businesses capture every corner, and everything is tidy and bright. I just loved it. We stopped for gas at an adorable little local gas station.

Where Helga came in from her ice fishing shanty to fill up with gas. In her trunk. If you had seen this darling old woman, you would have smiled at her stocking cap AND furry hat stack, her fairisle sweater, and 13 layers of shirts beneath that red parka. Her smile was so genuine.  She IS NDAK. She's strong stock. She's, well, she could kill a moose with her bare hands and go home and cook it on her gas stove. I love that endurance, that strength, oh my. I really, really do. She made me smile.

After our work business was complete, we looked for a place to eat lunch and settled on the Blarney Stone Pub downtown. They had a traditional Irish setting (per the website), a full menu, and a slew of Irish beers on tap. Being a beer afficionado, Bryon was literally salivating when we walked in the door.

Unfortunately, the manager of this location was on us like white on rice when we walked in the door. He informed us that, despite no rules of this published on their extensive website, they do not allow children in the pub. Yes, even though they have a full menu. "No kids allowed, Ma'am." Fine.

We continued walking through downtown, me quipping on and on about the darling shops everywhere. They had like, a million vintage stores! Oh I cannot wait to go back and rifle through them!

We finally reached another restaurant that appeared more family-friendly.

When we walked into the second place with the peacock blue walls, I headed straight over to the hostess in the corner to make sure we weren't violating any NDAK laws by accident. I asked if children could eat in their establishment.

"Yes," she said, with a glazed and snooty look on her face. "So long as they stay on the carpet."

Tsk tsk. REALLY?!  If we hadn't been starving, we would have walked out of the second place with our pack of animals. I mean, my goodness.

Despite the rough start, we settled at a round table in the corner with delicious brie and fruit, and nachos for those animals. Husband found an Irish beer after all. Just one. Driving and all.

I loved the decor. Especially the ginormous chalkboard.

We were there for hours. Mabel colored and looked like a pretty pink princess. She was well rested after all.

Andrew looked like a thug in his stocking cap, which I am fairly certain might be growing attached to his scalp at this point. He has to be reminded to let his hair dry before putting it back on after his shower!

Trevor did not cooperate for photography while in Bismarck. No shot of him. Or me either, actually. I was too busy being on a mini break.

After lots more hours of walking, walking, walking (and sweating, sweating, sweating because it was almost 50 degrees there), we got back into the truck to head back to Fargo.

I was reminded of that knee again. Same knee, same holey jeans that he wore to my house that first morning when he met the kids. LOVE IT.

Saturday morning brought plans to go home and one last stop for pancakes. Mabel colored herself silly once more, and slurped down orange juice.

And then she promptly fell back asleep not 10 minutes after we left. I am the only one who sees a pattern here?

I also noticed one little detail when I snapped this last picture... see her left hand there? When she was a wee baby, she would fall asleep with her thumb tucked in between her fingers just like this... seeing her do it again reminded me that she won't be a baby much longer. She really isn't even now. Lawsie. I need to go cry.

Good weekend. Good mini break.

February 22, 2012

Ash Weddennessday

This morning, Mabel and I drove into work. Over the river and through the woods. Well, more like over the plains and through the fields, and next to that glorious sunrise that we see every morning. We were listening to Kristy Nockels "Waiting Here For You" on KLOVE when I looked into the backseat. She looked so adorable I could barely breathe.

Also this morning when I went into Mabel's room to wake her up, I noticed the little lump in the bed, next to the Possibly Pink walls. The little lump in the bed wasn't facing the proper direction. In fact, I could not find her feet. I pawed at the quilt for a moment in the dim light, moving her embroidered horses south a bit. I saw crazy hair. She was sleeping sideways in the bed, with her My Little Pony pillow up against the pink wall, and her feet (and knees) dangling off of the other side. If I hadn't been running late, I would have eaten her cuteness for breakfast.

Last week sometime, Husband randomly appeared at the small town grocery store that I often stop at on the way home, just to pick up the baby. So I could have that mysterious and elusive thing called Peace And Quiet. I was so moved.

Also last week, he called me at the end of the day from his maintenance shop. I could hear the airguns and other such hard work being done in the background. When I answered he shouted, "Hello, my love!" There was silence on his end as all the guys in the shop turned to look at him. Then he shouted at them, "Yes I did just say that!" Love him so.

We took the kids with us to Bismarck this past weekend. It was a longish drive - not terrible, but still long - and we entertained ourselves with some singing and reading and Squinkies along the way. More to come on that if I can get the damn videos to upload. You want this to happen, believe me. HIlarious.

Today is Ash Wednesday. While we do not observe Lenten practices in our house, we do prepare to celebrate the most important day on the Christian calendar. Forty days from today.

Our anniversary is in four days. It was this time last year that Mindy and her crew were hopping in their van to make the very long drive up from Texas because well, she's my Person. It was this time last year that we were finalizing plans for our very ethereal OUTDOOR winter wedding. If you're a new reader and didn't catch all of that awesomeness, you can catch up here. We have plans for a private getaway (which was like boiling the ocean to do), just the two of us. Can't wait.

February 21, 2012

And Heaven Is Plus One

The angels were partying it up this past weekend.

We had a whirlwind weekend, wherein we drove hundreds of miles to another state for work purposes but got to bring the kids for crazy purposes, and ended up having the best sleeps of our lives.

Hayley was not able to join us, unfortunately.

But we did pick her up prior to church on Sunday. As we sat through the sermon, Bryon sat between her and I. He took turns rubbing Hayley's shoulder and my right leg. After the sermon on Ephesians (oh how I love Paul's letter to Ephesus), we stood for a last song and prayer. Pastor Lance asked everyone to bow their head and close their eyes as he held an altar call.

I realize that some Christian groups don't hold altar calls during service or call people "saved" when they've asked God into their lives. That's okay. But I ADORE when they do. That's what I'm talking about; it's sweet love and juicy music to my soul. There is nothing more amazing than watching someone (or BEING the someone - that might be the one thing more amazing) fall to their knees when they realize Christ is King.

He died for them

He conquered the world.

He will conquer again with ONE WORD.

He knows every pain in life. Every hurt. Every loss. Every responsibility. Every surprise.

He makes no mistakes.

All of this to say, it was Sunday altar call. The music played softly in the background in the dimly lit room. I was replaying all that God's done for me recently as well as everything I'm worried about. I was praying for my husband, which has been my focus for some time (he's got some irons in the fire, so to speak). I snuck a peak just as Pastor Lance asked if anyone would like to proclaim that God is their savior. Did anyone want to lift their hand and shout that Jesus died to save them from their sins? I saw a tiny, little hand lift into the air.

It was my middle girl, in her sparkly and twirly shirt. Bryon's eyes were tightly closed and I soaked it in for a moment. She was asking Jesus into her heart.

She's been so close for a while now. Asking questions about how one gets to Heaven. Asking about Hell. Asking why God sent Jesus to die for our sins.

The other night on the way home, she started crying in the back of the truck and asked Bryon to pull over and pray with her right at that very moment. The Holy Spirit has been poking at her something fierce. She listened. My girl listened!

So after the prayer was done and she tucked her hand back down at her side, I elbowed my husband. I told him that his daughter has just been saved, and invited him to please lead us up front to take communion all together. It was beautimus! We were so, so proud of her.

All of the angels threw a party for Hayley on Sunday afternoon. 

She's no longer protected by the cloak of our sanctification. SHE HAS HER OWN. Glory to God!

February 20, 2012

This Is How I Feel Today

This demonstration brought to you by our girls, Harriet and Maude. More from them soon.

February 17, 2012

Andrew's Room

The addition of the new, vintage Snoopy curtains in Andy's room made me stop for a moment in there and observe my son's natural habitat.

Man, I love that kid. He is COOL.

February 15, 2012


There are so many things that I am struggling to tell you about, with respect to Hayley and her mother. Bear with me as I try to muddle my way through the best and most polite wording. This is MY blog and intend to use it. I just... want to do so appropriately. 

I can tell you that this past weekend, Hayley arrived to our house for our weekend with new pants. In her actual pants size. Hayley is not a small fry - she's going to grow up into a tall and statuesque woman. Societal standards say that a 7 year old shouldn't wear a size 12, but she does. So this weekend she arrived with pants and a request from her mom: that I hem those pants up for her. Why of course I will. Nevermind all of the drama. Nevermind the nasty texting and the horrible insecurities. Nevermind that we do not speak every Saturday when we sit 36" apart. I smile and Bryon protects. I constantly CHOOSE to nevermind these things for my stepdaughter's sake. And this was a big deal. I hemmed those jeans on Sunday, when I was purely exhausted from life but also purely happy that I could do something to extend an olive branch to the woman who gave birth to my stepdaughter.

Because work has been so crazy, Husband and I thought it best to reschedule our formal Valentines celebrations for a night when he didn't have to work late and I wasn't ready to shoot rayguns of death from my eyes. We discussed for days because I know myself well enough to know I would be disappointed if there wasn't a plan and the holiday arrived with total lack of pomp. And also? I am direct, yo. He agreed. But - in a twist of Jesus fate, my love cut out of work at 'normal' time on Valentine's night. We drove separately and while on the way home, he called and offered to do the following:
- relieve me of any need to cook that night
- pick up carry out for the kids
- stop and pick up Mabel so that he could feel her while I:
- picked up SUSHI carryout for us (his idea. no, seriously!)
Then he met me right there in the dry cleaner parking lot to get the Moo so I had some quiet time. I had 20 minutes to kill until our dinner was ready so I did the following:
- listened to KLOVE and prayed
- picked up his dry cleaning
- stopped and picked up a picture of Andy for one of the large frames on our gallery wall, as well as dishwashing detergent and frozen pancakes if you must know
- waited for the chefs to finish Tokyo roll, Tiger roll, Green Dragon roll, spicy tuna, and shrimp maki...
When I arrived home, the children had eaten and were playing quietly downstairs. The lights were low, the music was on, and he'd played bartender. I got the sushi out and we sat at the kitchen island on our industrial stools (which he now loves). One bite of maki at a time, we decompressed about our week. Boy howdy, IT WAS VALENTINE'S DAY! He really did suggest the sushi. And I really did make him eat eel (which he liked). It was truly loverly.

Did I already tell you people that Hayley completed a handstand into front flip? She did. We were proud!

Yesterday, I gave a coworker a ride to work because he had car trouble and Bryon had to be at work too early for those of us who are not weirdos. When Jon got into the car, Mabel introduced herself. She said, "I am Mabel and we are singing about Jesus. Welcome to the car!" She and Jon got on quite well and jibber jabbered all the way to work. Bet he never asks for a ride again.

We need a vacation. We need a HONEYMOON. Our anniversary is only 11 days away!!!

Lots of changes going on in the workplace that I cannot go into detail here. Please pray for both of us.

The other day Moo Rae and I had to make a stop at Target for a few things. She was wearing glorified pajamas with a tutu and hairband, which was holding her not-so-curly-anymore hair away from her face. On top was her pink and blue fairisle pompom hat. She was holding my hand but after a few steps toward the store, I noticed she was lagging behind a little. It was breezy outside and we were walking right across traffic, so I wanted to hurry. I looked back at my little daughter. Her hand was firmly gripped in mine and she was stepping along with me. But her eyes were closed. Just calmly closed. When I asked her why she said, "I'm just resting them, Mom. I know you'll walk me in." How beautiful that trust is! How we need to have that exact same trust in our Lord Jesus Christ!

Lulu sent me a yummy recipe for taco soup to try. I obtained all of the ingredients in a rush of meal planning one week (I'll get back to that, I swear I will!), but did not make the soup. I can't remember why that was, but I think my mother in law stopped over and we became distracted with life and white wine. Or something. I want to make this soon! Anyone else have a recipe? I bet they are all very similar; it looks so delicious!

One day in 2006, my friend and I stopped at the parlor by my house. The big 2548 house. It was the year before Mabel was born and just after I'd had a very traumatic 2nd trimester miscarriage. It was a weekend, I remember. She had a piercing guy whom I visited and paid $16 to poke a hole in my right nostril, all official-like. Oh yes, I did. We spent the better part of the next hour looking for a micro ring, unsuccessfully. I suppose that detail isn't integral to the story, but... I'm sad I didn't find one. When I arrived home plus one more orifice, Shoes was not happy with me. At all. We lived in a very large, very respectable home in a very affluent neighborhood where he had a very big and expensive John Deere riding lawnmower and landscaping he didn't have time to manicure; how on earth could I even for one second think that piercing my nose was a good idea? He told me I looked like a trailer park wh-re. Which is doubly offensive, because I've lived in a trailer park - WITH HIM. Still not what you tell your spouse ever. No matter how I set my feelings aside, willing away tears, I could not convince him to see anything fun about my nose hole. Or the teeny and cute sparkly diamond stud sitting in it. And so, before bedtime, I took it out. I never put it in again and I wasted those $16. Worse yet, I never really got to wear it out of the house (having it for a whopping 5 hours), know what it was like to have, or experience any part of that fun. I feel sort of robbed. I got over it. But there you are.

Did any of you click on the vicious Facebook link that showed what components actually go into McDonald's chicken nuggets? I did some more hunting around the interwebs and this claim was legitimate. And DISGUSTING. Even the burgers had chemicals (and I ADORE their cheeseburgers, no onion please) up until this past year. Ick. But the nuggets - oh, the nuggets. Those did me in, Friends. I can't bring myself to order them anymore, or to allow the kiddos to order them either. It's worse than chicken lips and toes! In fact, I think it's worse than old fashioned hot dogs!

ETA: Please pray for Shoes just now. I may drive 12 hours to wring his neck soon. Little hearts are on the line and I am sick to death of the high road! AHEM.

February 14, 2012

Drew Gets Vintage Snoopy Curtains

Have I ever told you good people that I had Snoopy sheets as a child? I did. Snoopy and Dukes of Hazzard. Well, and Strawberry Shortcake, but those are girlie and not related to this post. What was I saying?

Oh yes.

The other day I was having a terribly bad day, so I decided to listen to the little voice inside of me that wanted to smell the Old Lady Smell. The little voice prompted me to stop at two of my favorite thrift stores on the way home that day. And on that day, it was the perfect day to stop.

When I saw Snoopy hanging there, smelling like Old Lady Smell and all, I got a little excited. There were 4, 84" panels for $29.99.  Now, I don't typically spend anything near that much on vintage anything. But these vintage Sears & Roebuck drapes were in fantastic condition and there were four of them. And the entire store was 25% off on that day, as it happened. All four of the panels were lined with white, though two of the liners weren't in the best condition. Still, $20 for a pair of vintage Snoopy sheets? Right. That's what I said. So they came home with me.

All the way home I thought of where the curtains would suit best. There was really only one room that is Snooped enough for the Snoop himself. The room of one boy rockstar: ANDREW.

Andrew's room looked like this before:

Kind of dreary. I didn't mean for it to be dreary. The navy blue panels weren't doing any favors in there, though. They are plenty fine, I reckon, but not a good fit for my scrambled egg, Andrew. He needed color.

Before I could hang them up in their new home, I had to check the length of the panels. 84" is pretty long after all. They were touching the floor a bit. I decided to add a seam in the main rod pocket that would raise the hem up around 2".

Before I started sewing anything, I evaluated the rest of the curtain panels. The stitching was all in white. Good thing because there was white in my machine already and changing it out would require another trip down the hallway and way too much motivation. The stitching was also in WONDERFUL shape. I mean, I couldn't believe it; not one ripped seam.

Hello, Sally. I adore the trademark, written directly on the fabric next to the cartoon. That's old school right there, Peeps.

Please pardon my very dusty walking foot (which I never take off but should have cleaned) and notice instead that I am lining up the edge of the top rod pocket with the rightmost edge of the silver plate there. Instant guide - voila, no pinning. I'm too lazy for pinning 99% of the time.

I just ran a straight stitch all the way across two of the panels. Uh... pay no mind to the chipping blue manicure, please.

Once finished, the panels were just above the carpet. Perfect.

I know collector adults who would sell their eye teeth for these Peanuts curtains. And they are so colorful in there.

Just perfect for my little egg.

February 13, 2012

The First Band Concert

Six months ago, Trevor took up the trumpet. He practices after homework and before chores several nights per week.

On the night of his first band concert, we were frantically trying on new khaki pants for two reasons. First, Trevor doesn't wear khaki pants. He wears jeans, 99% of the time, which means we don't have any tucked in the bottom of a drawer anywhere. And secondly, Trevor can barely wear any of the pants that are tucked in the drawers to begin with because God reached down, grabbed ahold of his head, and stretched him. All of the size 12s that he owns are too short. It's cruel because he's quite thin, which means we have to use the stretchers on the tightest button and his pants get all wadded up under his shirt. So the new size 14 khakis had to be tried on and ironed and spiffed up and pinned a little by mommy. Ahem.

We were also buttoning buttons on his collared shirt because his mom wouldn't allow him to participate in a concert wearing a tee shirt. He pushed my hands away in less than 3 seconds and asked Bryon to help. Within minutes, he was ready to rock.

I wish I could tell you that he was perfectly well-behaved.

I wish I could tell you that he didn't pick his nose, or that he didn't pick his nose and eat the specimen.

I wish I could tell you that he didn't clean his spit valve TWICE on the shoes of the girl sitting next to him.

But I cannot tell you those things.

Instead I will tell you that when the band instructor took the podium and Trevor lifted his trumpet to 'ready' position, my eyes welled up with tears.

I will tell you that his long neck made him look VERY un-eleven.

I will tell you that my baby is pretty much not a baby in any way at all whatsoever anymore.

I will tell you that he did a magnificent job and we were so very proud.

I will tell you that he saw me give him the eyes of death during the spit valve thing and froze like a deer in headlights.

Good to know 11 years later and I've still got it.

PS: Dear Shoes, I did take multiple videos, which would not upload to Blogger. Sorry!

February 10, 2012

Why Yes That IS Pink Hair

I told Bryon that it was either a nose piercing or pink hair. He asked me to start with the hair.

I'm not sure how long I will keep it, but I kind of really love it.

February 8, 2012


This has been a bad week. Stressful for both B and I. We are clingly tightly to God and asking for strength, peace, and perspective. We are great - life is just swirling around us.
I stayed home two days this week because my stomach was out of this world upset (I've lived with IBS for about 20 years now) due to that aforementioned stress. Blech. While at home, a couple of swell things happened. First, Mabel is delicious. I got to snack on her for two days because she stayed home to take care of me. She sang The Golden Girls theme song to me, brought me cherry ju ju jearts, and read me stories. I love it when she reads me stories because she is very animated (why yes, she does get that from moi) and very detailed in each story. I mean, a 5 page book could take 20 minutes. Also, we ate a lot of rice and looked up homeopathic remedies to stress. All of which point to one thing: Jesus. He will solve this in His own time and, Friends, there is rest in that.
Before I became ill this week, I went on a thrifting adventure and I sewed! More on that in an upcoming post. It was very exciting!
Hayley did a backbend this week at gymnastics without a spotter, and landed perfectly. Then she did it about 213 more times.
Also while home sick I got sucked into watching Dance Moms on TLC. HOLY COW! Those ladies are mean!
We are hovering around 40 degrees out here in Da Plains. I know I shouldn't be complaining, but I miss the winter. The real, actual winter. I am not kidding when I say that I am praying for snow at the end of the month for our anniversary. My soul needs it. I may go sit outside and let it fall on my face for a while, should I be blessed with some flakes.

February 7, 2012

Lifelight: Behind The Scenes

As it turns out, Tenth Avenue North (quite possibly my MOST favorite Christian band) put together a phenomenal video about what it means to them to tour. They filmed it at this fall's LifeLight festival here in Da Plains. We were there when they headlined. Actually, I'm certain if you freeze-frame this video at a closeup of the lower left audience (front row center thanks), you will find me, AndyRoo, and Toni. We are in the sea of hands, probably sobbing.

If you've ever wondered what it was like to attend a Christian concert or music festival - it's really not what you think. Pleae check this out.

And... I dare you not to fall in love with their music or Mike's 'sermon' in the process.

God bless you, Friends. Thank you for letting me speak about our Father God in this place.