quiet

The near-death of this blog is evidence to a simple lack of my own words these days. There just doesn't seem to be much left to say. May the words which do manage to make it through the door of my mouth (or my fingertips) be honoring to the only One worth talking about--the One in whom my hope lies.

Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who according to His abundant mercy has begotten us again to a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, to an inheritance incorruptible and undefiled and that does not fade away, reserved in heaven for you, who are kept by the power of God through faith for salvation ready to be revealed in the last time.

In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while, if need be, you have been grieved by various trials, that the genuineness of your faith, being much more precious than gold that perishes, though it is tested by fire, may be found to praise, honor, and glory at the revelation of Jesus Christ, whom having not seen, you love. Though now you do not see Him, yet believing, you rejoice with joy inexpressible and full of glory, receiving the end of your faith--the salvation of your souls. I Peter 1:3-9

Don't let me lose my wonder

And you, who once were alienated and enemies in your mind by wicked works, yet now He has reconciled in the body of His flesh through death, to present you holy, and blameless, and above reproach in His sight... Colossians 1:21-22

For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him. 2 Corinthians 5:21

If I can read these words and not be overwhelmed by a sense of thanksgiving and praise, then something is terribly wrong inside my soul.

God, don't let me ever lose my wonder.

Hatch

What's been going on in the tree near my kitchen window:

Why isn't this getting easier?

For the past several years, I've attempted to snap a picture of the kids before church on Resurrection Sunday. I was under the assumption that picture-taking would get easier as they grow older, but progress is desperately slow. I have one child whose eyes automatically go red and itchy as soon as anyone breaks out a camera, one child who can not smile and keep his eyes open at the same time, three children who have extreme difficulty coming up with a natural smile. Though they will probably never win any awards in the photegenic department, (nor their mother in the photography department) these are priceless to me:

2010


2009


2008


2007


2006

The Lord knows when I'm in need of a good, old-fashioned belly laugh. Gabe and I had a lighthearted conversation this morning that went something like this:

While picking him up I tell him, "I'm not going to be able to do this much longer."

He giggles, "Why not?"

"Because you're not going to be this size forever, you know."

"Yes I am."

"No, you're growing. Pretty soon you'll be too big for me to pick up. How big do you think you'll be when you're 20?"

"This big." (referring to the same size he is now)

"No, you'll grow. When you're 20, you'll be big."

"No, I'm staying 5 forever."

Laughing, "No, silly. Pretty soon, you'll be grown up and probably get married. And hey, guess what I will be if you and your wife have children?"

Expecting that he understood that would make me a grandma, I was shocked when he shouted out (with an ornery smile),

"Dead!"

I haven't laughed that hard in awhile.