Thursday Thirteen #5

Thirteen great C.S. Lewis quotes*

1. God gives his gifts where he finds the vessel empty enough to receive them.

2. Our instincts are obviously in conflict. The satisfaction of one demands the denial of another.

3. Poor [fellow] - he thought his mind was his own. Never his own until he makes it Christ's; up till then, merely a result of heredity, environment, and the state of his digestion. I became my own only when I gave myself to Another.

4. Joy is distinct not only from pleasure in general but even from aesthetic pleasure. It must have the stab, the pang, the incosolable longing.

5. I have been suspected of being what is called a Fundamentalist. That is because I never regard any narrative as unhistorical simply on the ground that it includes the miraculous.

6. Christian Love, either towards God or towards man, is an affair of the will.

7. What, then, is Nature, and how do we come to be imprisoned in a system so alien to us? Oddly enough, the question becomes much less sinister the moment one realizes that Nature is not all. Mistaken for our mother, she is terrifying and even abominable. But if she is only our sister - if she and we have a common Creator - if she is our sparring partner - then the situation is quite tolerable.

8. Say your prayers in a garden early, ignoring steadfastly the dew, the birds and the flowers, and you will come away overwhelmed by its freshness and joy; go there in order to be overwhelmed and, after a certain age, nine times out of ten nothing will happen to you.

9. [Angels] are given human form because man is the only rational creature we know. Creatures higher in the natural order than ourselves, either incorporeal or animating bodies of a sort we cannot experience, must be represented symbolically if they are to be represented at all.

10. Anger is the fluid that love bleeds when you cut it.

11. [Death] is a safety-device because, once Man has fallen, natural immortality would be the one utterly hopeless destiny for him.

12. No man knows how bad he is until he has tried very hard to be good.

13. The act of cowardice is all that matters; the emotion of fear is, in itself, no sin.

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*All quoted from _The Quotable Lewis_, ed. Martindale and Root.

Wordless/Works(sort of)-for-me Wednesday

See comments for WFMW explanation.
Also see post Rice-a-rama

Works-for-me-Wednesday
Wordless Wednesday

Tackle it Tuesday #4

We set up our Fisher-Price Little People village. We don't own all the normal sets, though. Our village includes: Barn, stable, well, zoo, Noah's ark, pirate ship, circus, amusement park, train station, campsite, castle. They aren't all visible in the picture. The only things not set up are Mommy's nativity and shepherds on the hillside sets. Of course, as per usual, the kids played for about 10 minutes. Almost half the time it took mommy to find all the pieces and set everything up. A lesson in futility. Now I will tackle cleaning it all back up.

Grammar Queen

Every Sunday we all go eat at my husband's grandmother's house. She fixes an insane amount of food, and all the cousins, aunts and uncles stuff themselves and visit. It's like Thanksgiving every Sunday. Yesterday, Zaya and my husband wandered over to the dessert table, which happens to be in the kitchen next to the "adult" table. (Those of us at the "kids" table are all in college or married or working full-time) My husband asked Zaya if he wanted some pudding. (Homemade, of course. How does she do it?) Zaya said, "That's my favorite pudding I ever saw!" I didn't hear that part. As soon as I walked into the room, though, they said he looked at me and then said, "That's my favorite pudding I ever seen!" I can't say I've actually tried to drill any grammar into the poor toddler, but I suppose it's just leaking out. I'm not sure if that's good or bad.

Bear in mind, Mom, that he calls pretty much whatever he's eating his "favorite."

Ironically Antisocial

My husband is one of the friendliest guys you will ever meet. He wouldn't dream of being rude to anyone, and he handles normal conversation well, when required. That's just the kicker, though; when required. He will go to great lengths to avoid talking to people he doesn't know. I am exactly the opposite. Anytime we have a problem, I'm all for calling up the customer service number and "speaking to a representative". In fact, I will wait through inordinately long automated answering systems until I find out what number I need to push to catch a real, honest-to-goodness, blood-flowing, heart-pumping human being. My darling spouse, on the other hand, goes first to the internet, that great anonymous information beast. Then he'll go through the automated system, then, if all else fails. . .he asks me to call a person. We're talking even down to shopping and ordering pizza. And he's a very intelligent, normal human being. (Okay, as normal as anyone is)

This has led to a few frustrating experiences in our usually placid marriage. For instance, hubby calls from the store.
Him: I can't find that kind of pasta you wanted.
Me: Did you ask anyone?
Him: No
Me: Well, ask someone where it is. Then you'll know.
Him: If they had it, I would've found it.
Me: I don't think we can just take that as a given, Love.
Him: I'm not asking
Me: Fine, don't. Just wander around aimlessly like a moron when you know very well that a little conversation would give you exactly the information you needed, Mr. Efficient.

Ok, so it's not always that bad. This reluctance to meet strangers has led to another little "discussion" that we occasionally have. Whenever he goes on a business trip, he refuses to check baggage. He says he doesn't have to talk to anyone if he just uses his internet-purchased ticket and takes no extra luggage. He fits all his clothes, toiletries, entertainment, shoes etc. in his carry-on, which is a backpack from his college days. I just can't stand this. "How can you possibly get everything you need into that bag", I plead. He insists he's fine. "How can your clothes possibly look professional enough for a business meeting" This is what he says, no kidding. "I roll them up really tightly, so there are no wrinkles." AARRGGHHH!!! Ok, I'm over it. He's a grown man. He can do what he wants.

Here's the incredible irony of it all. He's going to these business meetings to learn how to interact with people in a business setting; how to lead groups of people and talk with them and get them to do what you need. It's all I can do not to just crack up.

Eats, Shoots & Leaves

I've almost finished reading _Eats, Shoots & Leaves_ by Lynne Truss. It's an absolutely hilarious book! I would never have imagined myself laughing out loud at a book about punctuation, but I have while reading this one. I wish I could write her a letter, or sit down and talk with her while drinking a cup of tea. She is an absolutely hilarious writer. This is the style of writing I've always instinctively tried to use, I think, but with much, much less success, of course. I highly recommend this book. If you know me personally, just let me know and I'd be happy to loan you my copy: as soon as I'm finished. There's even a version for children, which I will also happily loan out. (But you have to give it back, because my kids may not be able to sit still for 2 minutes put together, but they will know how to use a semicolon.)

Thursday Thirteen #3

13 ways that my daughter already acts like a teenager

1. She likes to mess with my makeup.
2. She know where all the mirrors are and likes to look at herself in them.
3. She loves our dorm boys and flirts with them.
4. She tells me "No!" when I ask her to do things.
5. She takes my credit cards out of my wallet.
6. She likes to look at the Orlando Bloom poster in the school library.
7. She doodles on anything within reach.
8. She loves to eat pizza.
9. She has to go to the bathroom with anyone who needs to go.
10. She loves to steal her brothers things and run.
11. She likes money: coins, bills, cards, checks, you name it.
12. She loves to play with her clothes and shoes, wanting me to put them on her.
13. She already knows whose clothes she sees in the laundry. ie Daddy's shirt brother's socks, etc.

More Thursday Thirteen

Rice-a-rama

So. . .I've read in books and heard people say that if you want to keep your kids entertained while you're cooking or baking in the kitchen, you give them some extra measuring cups and bowls and a bag of rice or beans. That way they get to pretend to cook and it's not messy. I've always assumed it was my fear and laziness that kept me from trying this little trick. It turns out it was my intelligence. Two toddlers + a bag of brown rice + a small kitchen = chaos. This shall henceforth be known in our little home as The Great Rice Fiasco of '07. Zaya, who usually says, "Cheese!" when he sees a camera, this time said, "Cheese. . and rice!"

Wordless/Works-for-me Wednesday

See comments for works-for-me explanation.
Check here for more Wordless Wednesdays and here for Works-for-Me Wednesday.

Frodo-Zay

This is what my son wants to do when he grows up, as of yesterday. He wants to "throw the bad ring in the fire mountains of Mordor so it will melt." Any LOTR fans out there want to tell me why that's a little freaky for a two-year-old!? Actually I have my mother to thank for this. No, she did not tell my son the Lord of the Rings stories, she's just obsessed herself, and has been for decades, I might add. No Jane-come-lately is she. She paints these beautiful maps of Middle Earth, and one year she painted a series of four small mountain views; Dunland, Eriador, Mordor, and Belfalas. My son found these in her classroom and wanted them, so, being the pushover of a grandma that she is (which I would never, never have expected from my mother. . . but more on that later.) she gave them to him. She didn't tell him what lands they were supposed to be. She just called them the Fire mountains, Blue mountains and so on. No, I have my cousin (Thanks B!) and myself to thank for the rest. My young cousin told him that some people took a bad ring and threw it into the Fire mountain so that it would melt, and I taught him to call Grandma's paintings by their real names, and the rest is history. Or will be if he ever gets his hands on a mystical ring and visits Hawaii!






Tackle it Tuesday #3



Look! Empty laundry baskets! I finally got to the bottom of the two bathroom hampers. Granted, they're not still empty today, but they were, at one time, completely empty. Yeah me! I'm not sure what it says about me when I get a feeling of euphoria from seeing empty laundry hampers, but it can't be good. I think my brain is starting to atrophy; either that or my sense of personal worth. It's probably best that they both go at the same time, so I don't have the awareness to dwell on it.

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See you in the Funny Papers

I was just re-reading a Baby Blues comic strip book that my Grandma-in-law gave me a while back. That is a very funny strip. There are so many things that I read and think, "Yeah! That's exactly what it's like."

I like a lot of different comic stips. The ones I collect, though, are Foxtrot, The Far Side, and Calvin and Hobbes. I'm also fond of Dilbert, although it's hard to collect those since Scott Adams comes out with a new treasury every little bit, and they're often just repackaging of old strips. I guess we're supposed to grow out of comics, but I haven't yet. We'll see how long it takes. Anyone else out there have a favorite comic strip?

Too much

I think I'm going to have to cut back on some of my church commitments. I came so close to dropping the ball about eight different times this morning, because I kept remembering things I'd promised to do, and then being late for the other things I was supposed to do. I could list them all, but that would just be depressing. Suffice it to say, our keyboardist came and got me from my pew to play offertory because I didn't see that the other instrumentalists had already gone to the front. (It was during the prayer) That was only a small example.

My problem is, I give off an aura of being responsible. I've always had this problem. People have just assumed I was mature and responsible, and then given me duties and leadership positions. Big mistake. It's just that I fake it so well. I'm really a lazy, disorganized, forgetful, procrastinating bum who can't say, "no" when someone asks me to serve on a committee, organize a Bible Study, teach Sunday School, play drums, sing, find nursery workers, plan a ladies' game night etc. etc. etc.

I hate letting people down, and I hate saying I won't do something when I know that it needs to be done, but I think I'm just going to have to let something go. That's quite an acknowledgement from a former preacher's kid.

Big flakes

We're finally getting something that looks like real snow. When we woke up this morning there were about 4-5 inches of snow on the ground, and it looked like it would just get deeper and deeper. Then it started to almost rain, which washed some of it away. Now that the big patch of white on the radar is almost past us, it's snow again. Big, slow flakes. Lovely, lovely!

I don't know why I care so much that it snow. It makes travel difficult. It's cold. I guess it's just that it's something different. Everyone slips into survival mode a little bit when it's icy or snowy outside. Things don't seem like such a big deal, and people are more inclined to accept hardships. There's probably also some Currier and Ives connection. There's just not much that is as beautiful as snow on an evergreen; from inside, of course. Another fun thing about snow here in the farming community is the hay bales. Picture a huge round bale of hay with a couple inches of snow on the top, and think frosted mini-wheat. That's got to be worth a little travel inconvenience, right?

Oh no! Not again!

The credit card bill came in today. You know; the big one. This one covers December, which means all those Christmas impulse purchases. We always pay our cards off every month so that we won't have interest charges, so it's painful. Very painful. I can't believe I have so little self-control! I just hate myself when I look down that list and see "amazon.com, amazon.com, amazon.com, oldnavy.com, amazon.com, amazon.com, wal-mart.com etc etc etc." I can already see the look on my sweet, patient, loving, supportive, all-around wonderful (Are you reading this, honey?) husband's face when he gets home. He never gets angry. He just gets this disappointed, stressed look. It cuts me to the bone. He's so responsible and I feel like such a louse when things like this happen. I guess we don't have quite as much in savings as we were counting on. Ouch.

Anyway, as happens periodically, I will now remount The Wagon, and try to keep my seat. No more impulse purchases. In fact, I'm not going to buy anything without telling The Man about it first. (That way when the next big bill comes in I can say, "Oh, but Honey, you said you wanted me to get that!" with big, innocent eyes and a clean conscience.) You are all my witnesses. No more online shopping. (Okay, not much more. . )

And yet, somehow. . .

My husband is a very intelligent man. He never made a B on a report card in school. Never. From Kindergarten through college - straight A's. And yet, somehow, in the middle of the night, he can be dumb as a rock. I don't know how this happens. I guess I should also mention that he is a very sound sleeper. I wake up at the slightest noise or inconsistency in the universe, but he would sleep through a fire alarm, a nuclear war and a coughing child. This means if he does suddenly have to think in the middle of the night (because I've kicked him awake for something) he doesn't have all his cylinders firing. (or any, depending on the night) For instance, our alarm clock; the man is an engineer, a good engineer. How complicated could it possibly be to turn off the alarm clock? But this paragon of math skills and daily common sense cannot manage to even find the big snooze button, let alone the off button when the alarm goes off unneccessarily. He asks me pretty much every time, "How do you turn this thing off?" Once again, his technologically challanged wife must come to his rescue. I keep telling him, what are we going to do when armed government soldier shake us awake some night demanding we integrate a function? I sure won't be any use.

Oops!

Well, I just made the mistake of trying to upgrade without having the time to commit to fixing the problems. Needless to say, I hope to have my blog back to its old self soon. I'll write more tomorrow, too. Stupid computers.

Thursday Thirteen #3

Thirteen Things I Hate About Parenting Magazines. (If I sound bitter, it's because I am)


1. They assume we all live in cities.
2. Every issue has different "only 5 beauty treatments you need!"
3. The word "nosh". (Cute if you're Yiddish, pretentious if you're not)
4. The assumption that I have "girlfriends" I could be hanging out with
5. Postmodern morality.
6. The idea that The Pottery Barn is "mid-range"
7. "Healthy" snacks that my kids will "love", like edamame and whole wheat pasta.
8. Articles telling me not to be competitive, next to pictures of perfect, rich model children.
9. The word "playdate"
10. Every issue has a different "very best" way to do the same thing.
11. Telling me to "weigh my preschool options" as if there were even a preschool in my area.
12. All the mommies and children wearing designer clothes and living in designer houses.
13. "Must Have" toys that would fill my house and empty my wallet.

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Wordless Wednesday

Brrrr. . .

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Tackle it Tuesday #2

Here are my children. They are still alive, and so am I. That's what I tackled this Tuesday. Survival. We've made it through virus 1, 2, and 3, and are on to virus number 4. Our doctor loves us, our insurance company hates us. One icy drive into town to see the doctor again this morning, two sick kids, three minutes of sleep. Hey, I'd say we're doing pretty good. Here's wishing everyone else more productive tackles.

Here we go again. . .

I'm trying not to stress about the upcoming spring, but it's rough going. My husband tells me, "Don't worry about stuff. You know it won't help to worry."
Oh, right, well then. I'll just stop worrying. No problem. I don't know if worry is a particular problem of mine, or if it's all just part of being a mommy, but I sure seem to do a lot of it; and despite my darling's instructions, I will probably continue to do it.

DH will be gone for five weeks this spring. He'll be flying out to Minnesota five different times for training. Yuck!! If you know me personally, and possibly just from reading my blog, you know that I am a high-maintenance girl. I can't stand to be alone. Okay, so technically I'm not alone, since I'm taking care of two toddlers, but you know what I mean. You're never more alone than when two little people are crying at you and one or both of them just started running a fever.

Speaking of which, Zaya will also have to have his tonsils and adenoids out in March. They're huge and the poor little fellow snores like an old man. The idea is that this will take care of the snoring and sleep apnea and possibly help with the asthma and weight loss. At least the surgery will happen when DH is home, and recovery should be complete by the time he leaves again. Zay will just barely be three. I'm very worried about that, too. Am I doing the right thing? What if something goes wrong? Will he hate me when he has pain? Will I spoil him rotten as he recovers? Will Mim be jealous of all the attention?

Once again, like I do every five minutes, I place it all in God's hands. I just wish I could figure out how to stop taking it back out again.

Survival

Well, we survived the catastrophe. Despite the near 24 hour media coverage, Ice Storm 2007 didn't make a very big impression here. I hear it's worse in the east. Everything's lovely and white, and the roads are slick, but we still have our power and very little icing on anything but the roads.

We have no church today, so it'll be another play at home day. The kids and I are having fun spending time with Daddy. Yesterday we made forts, played with Play-Doh, read books, and, of course, played video games. Daddy's an engineer, so forts around here are fairly complex. You can't tell from the pictures, but this fort had lofts, windows and an antechamber. Fun, fun, fun! Today will most likely be more of the same. Both kids are mildly sick, so we won't be going out into the snow. Zaya still has a bit of fever off and on. (More off than on, now.) And Mim started barking like a small baby seal yesterday evening. (There's no harsh breathing or fever, though, so I don't think it's croup.)

Ice Storm 2007

Update: 10:20 Saturday morning. - Well, we still have electricity, so I think maybe we'll get through this one without losing our lights. It's so cold that the stuff that's falling is more sleet than ice. Good for the power lines, still bad for the roads. We have one more wave of precip. tonight and tomorrow. If we make it through that, we're golden. Cold, but golden.

Original Post - 1/12
According the the experts, we are about to get blasted, along with the rest of our state, so I'll update this periodically. It's very likely that we'll lose power, so updates may be splotchy and late. The picture is what we've got as of 12:45. It doesn't look impressive, but this is just what the weatherman called, "the first part of the first wave". We'll see what the rest of the weekend holds.

Zaya is also fighting some sort of infection. (Not strep, thank goodness) I'm glad we were able to get in to the doctor yesterday afternoon, because now we have all the medicine we'll need while we're home bound. He's been feverish for three days now. Lets hope and pray this is the last one. He's acting more normal today, so maybe it will be. It's a bad weekend to have a sick toddler. (And Mim is bound and determined to get it, too; although she may have had a mild case of it last week.)

Update: 9:45am
The rest of my dorm boys are already leaving. (One left last night.) Lots of other kids and teachers from the school are already leaving too. They cancelled Homecoming celebrations for this afternoon. It's just as well, because Zaya was going to be an attendant, but couldn't because he's sick.

Update: 12:46
DH has left work for the day and gone by the store for neccesities. Luckily the grocery store still had all the food we needed (unlike Kilikina's experience) so we should be ready. As one of our local farmers said, "Hope for the best; prepare for the worst." Words to live by.
Update: 2:30pm
DH has been home for a while now. He said there were no more scentless candles in Wal-mart. They sold out of them yesterday. The highway home was covered with black-ice. He didn't realize it until he tried to make the corner towards our little town and just slid right on past it. I'm glad he didn't try anything sudden before that. He bought tons of food and enough lamp oil for all ten of the maidens who are waiting for the Bridegroom, (see Matthew 25) although we have only one little tiny oil lamp. He says, "The technology is centuries old. Surely we can figure out how to make our own lantern." Hope springs eternal here in our icy home.
Update: 6:30
Well, we still have power so far. We'll see what the second wave does tomorrow. If I don't post anything tomorrow morning, then we're out, and I'll see everyone on the other side of the storm. Hope you're all staying warm!

Thursday Thirteen - #2

13 Unusual Things I Love

1. Chewing ice with just a hint of pop taste
2. The smell of Wite-Out (No, I don’t sniff it on purpose!)
3. Clean baby feet
4. Fog and Drizzle
5. Parsley (plain or with BBQ sauce)
6. The new rain smell (but not the slightly used drowned worms old rain smell)
7. Bergamot-Coriander scented B&BW products
8. Mail, even junk mail (some of it)
9. Seeing messages on my answering machine
10. Pizza crusts
11. Snowstorms
12. Loading up my cart in online stores and then exiting quickly before I can actually buy anything
13. Autumn

Wordless Wednesday

They wanted to "snuggle". There's a huge sheep (Vivian) in there with Zaya.

Check at 5minutesformom for more Wordless Wednesday.

Tackle it Tuesday

From 3 to 4 pm, sunlight strikes the wall in our living room, so that's where I had to put the turtle tank. Which means the sectional sofa couldn't be there, which means other things had to be moved. Now my huge sofa sits smack in the middle of what used to be a comfortably sized living room here in the dorm apartment. Oh well. Since I did almost all the moving myself, I feel I've accomplished something, even if it looks a little strange. I look forward to living in our real house this summer where more natural sunlight is available. (This apartment has 5 windows total. None are on the north or east sides.)

Who Knows

Mim appears to have recovered from whatever it was that upset her last Thursday. She was fine the next morning, and has been fine ever since. I guess it was just teeth. We mothers seem to blame everything on teeth. She does have one that's trying to come through on top, so maybe it was just hurting her. It's difficult to be a happy, compassionate mother when your little angel is screaming, whining and dissatisfied all day. I told my mother-in-law I was tempted to just sit her outside with the cat. (My MIL said, "Don't do that. Call me first and I'll come help you." She's great.)

What's funny is, she did get better for a while that afternoon, and it started with us bundling up and going outside to pet the cat. We were on our way over to the school to see Grandma C. (My mom) and we spent some quality time with Gatito first. (Our adopted stray) I told the kids,
"Don't give Gatito too many hugs or Grandma C will sneeze." (She's allergic.)
On the way over to the school I heard Zaya saying,
"If you hug Gatito, Gwandma C will burp!"
Ok, so he hasn't quite mastered the meaning of all the bodily functions. Can you imagine burping as an allergic response to fur?
"What a beautiful cat!" *BURP* Oh! Excuse me. I'm allergic. *BURP*
Toddlers crack me up.

Dippin'

This is Mimsy enjoying some chup-chup at Arby's. She'll eat anything if there's a dip-dip available. At home it ranges from Ranch dressing to Maple syrup, but at Arby's it's got to be chup-chup.

Scary Stuff

I face this morning with some trepidation. Yesterday was one of those days my friend Kilikina was talking about; the kind where you say to yourself, "Why am I doing this again?" My daughter spent almost the entire day crying. She's usually fairly whiny, but yesterday was exceptional. She just wanted me to hold her all day, but not sit and snuggle, which I could have handled. She wanted me to walk around wherever she was pointing and let her mess with stuff that she knew was forbidden. And she cried. Did I mention she cried? At least she slept well last night. I thank God every day for a helpful mate. My husband was very encouraging and took her off of my hands several times in the evening. By the time we put her down to bed I was just about ready to give up, but he assured me he would help me through the night if I needed it, and he did the one time she woke up.

My poor baby, I know she was hurting in some way, but I don't know where or why! She didn't have a fever; she didn't rub any one area more than any other, and she didn't have any visible wound. My only option is teething, which is used to cover a multitude of whines, I realize. She wasn't like this with her other teeth, but maybe this one's particularly bad. I guess I'll just have to wait and see. I could use some prayers for today, either way. She hasn't woken up yet, so I still have some hope of a peaceful happy baby, happy mommy day. At least the toddler was good yesterday. He told me at one point, while we were both having to yell to be heard, "WELL, MOMMY, AT LEAST I'M NOT CRYING!" I gave him a big hug. We all needed it by that time.

Update: She woke up smiling! So far, so good. Thank the Lord.

Thursday Thirteen - #1

13 Things I Should be Doing - Some just aren't options, really, but they ought to be done.

1. Mopping my kitchen floor
2. Loading/folding the Laundry
3. Assembling cute outfits for my kids
4. Dressing said kids
5. Reading intellectually stimulating books to those kids
6. Feeding a nutritious breakfast to kids
7. Making my husband a delicious lunch for work
8. Exercising with the women's aerobics group
9. Writing meaningful letters to my neglected e-mail friends
10. Reading my devotional and scripture and spending time with my neglected Savior.

Update:
11. Taking my vitamins
12. Baking something homemade and complicated
13. Cleaning, cleaning, cleaning!

Counting My Blessings

I think I'm feeling the post-holiday blues. Hubby's been off work since the 22nd, but he goes back tomorrow. Yuck. I should just be happy that he was able to take so much time off (he had vacation to kill) but I've enjoyed having another adult around the house to talk with me and field the occasional dirty diaper. He's such a good cleaner, too. Now life returns to its hectic normalcy. The dorm boys return tomorrow so I need to clean all the toys out of the lobby. I also put all my Christmas decorations away today. I'm not sure if that made me feel better or worse. I was hoping it would be a sort of purge, but I think it just emphasized the end of festivities and the beginning of another long year.

Honestly, I don't know what I'm complaining about. My kids and husband are great. I have a wonderful family and great in-laws. God has blessed us with so much this year, despite my whining. DH has a good job and Zaya and Mim are both healthy and strong. I have more food than I need, and more love than most people might expect to experience in their lifetime. I don't deserve all this, and the pessimist in me wonders if it means I'm doing something wrong. Anyone who's been raised in a strong, evangelical church will understand what that last line means. I suppose I should just enjoy it, and pray that it lasts, but it makes me wonder if anyone who could be depressed while living my particular slice of the American dream is not spiritually strong enough to handle much difficulty and persecution. Wouldn't it be nice if we could be strong without suffering through the tests; if we could have the patience without the "trying of our faith"? I'm not sure whether I should mourn or brace myself.

God's will be done.