catching up

Thanks for all the responses.

Since we're all reading one another's blogs anyway, and since too much press actually backfires, and makes a person less likely to be interested in a topic, I'm not going to keep doing a post a day to highlight the day's cause and organization. Instead, I'm going to keep the sidebar up-to-date. You can click on the appropriate blog and go directly to the post related to the 40 Day Fast. Also, this will be nice when we're finished, to have all causes and organizations in chronological order. Because I love order just that much ...

As an aside, someone categorized me as an "organized by nature" (or birth, or something) person yesterday. Mom! Stephanie (Georgia's mom)! Did you hear that? ME, organized by nature? They clearly never saw my bedroom when I was growing up. But now, yeah, maybe ... I do love love love order and routine, sometimes more than is probably good for any of us. And I'll just let that say whatever it says about me, because either way it's true.

So. I hope everyone is having a good weekend. It's thundering here, and we desperately need the rain. By the way, did you all know that Bob Riley, the governor of Alabama, called for a week of prayer for rain? And that it started raining the FIRST DAY of the week of prayer? I love it.

Happy Saturday, all.



p.s. Meet Paean.

day 7

A disclaimer: I worked for several years in Early Intervention, a nationwide program that serves children under three years old with developmental delays and disabilities. This is a description of my first meeting with one of the children I served. In the following (true) story, the foster mother was unimpressive at best. However, I know and love several amazing foster parents. I have watched children flourish under the love and nurturing of good foster homes. So please don’t read this particular character as a commentary on the foster care system. The world is already a better place because of families who have devoted their lives to displaced children. Having said that …


I remember sitting in a clean, dark living room cluttered with porcelain and picture frames. The sun is shining, it’s springtime in the South, and this is my last appointment of the day. I’m ready to finish up and be outside. I have conducted meetings like this a few hundred times, and by now am comfortable sitting in strangers’ living rooms. I don’t remember the foster mother’s face, but I remember her demeanor as cold, indifferent. I talk briefly with the little girl before I open her file. She’s two years old, with neatly braided hair and a clean pink sundress. She and her four-year-old sister have been in foster care for only a few months. They are together in the living room. I notice how quiet they are, how the little girl doesn’t make eye contact, doesn’t smile. I open my notes.

I ask her foster mother the usual questions, and she answers politely without elaborating. As I’m completing another form for her to sign, she looks at the little girl. “Go on, now. Go potty.” The girl begins to cry, not with the exuberant resistance of a toddler, but in a guttural wail I have never heard in another context. The woman is undaunted. “Go.” The little girl obeys, moaning as she moves across the room and down the hallway. “Does she always cry like that?” I ask. “Only when she goes to the bathroom,” she responds. “I don’t know why. Something must have happened.”

Something must have happened.

I am not an expert on child abuse, but I know there is only one reason why baby girls are terrified of bathrooms. I try to reason with myself. Don’t respond, I think. She’s already in the system; someone already knows more about this than you do. They don’t even know you yet. There’s nothing you can do about it. Just have this woman sign the forms and you can go home. But it’s not working. I hear her at the far end of the house now, softly wailing in the bathroom. I put down my file. I can’t take it.

“Excuse me,” I say to the woman. She does not respond. I walk to the end of the hall and see the little girl, standing alone outside of the bathroom, still moaning. I pick her up. “Shh,” I said. “You’re okay. It’s okay.” She relaxes against me, resting her braids on my shoulder as I rock her. She is no more or less afraid of me than anyone else. Gradually the wails subside. Her breathing slows to the shuddering sob of a tired baby. When she is calm, I carry her back into the living room. I sit down on the couch, the little girl in my lap, talking quietly to her. She never looks at my eyes.

* 90-95% of sexual abuse is never reported.
* 1 in 4 girls and 1 in 6 boys will be sexually assaulted before they turn 18.
* Among them, nearly 30% will be molested before the age of 7.
* In the United States, three million children will be sexually abused this year.
* 90% will know their assailant.
* 1 in 20 men will sexually abuse a child.
*1 in 3300 women will also become perpetrators.
* When sexual abuse is reported, only 1-4% are false accusations.
* In those instances, 75% are made by an adult, not a child.
* Thirty nine million American adults were sexually abused as children.

They are staggering statistics that we never hear.

In preparing for the 40 Day Fast, there has been a lot of talk about abundance and excess. In this, too, I see my own excess. How easily I trust others, how naively I assume the best because I have never endured the worst of humanity. How often I have sensed that something was wrong, but chosen to believe otherwise. It is so overwhelming to consider nationally that I have chosen to pray specifically for my little corner of the world. I am focusing on the greater Montgomery area of Alabama. My prayer is that a child will be heard and a child will be spared every hour that I pray. I am also praying for adults in my sphere of influence who were abused as children, that they will experience the freedom and peace that only comes from the restoring power of Christ.

In every county there are organizations devoted to catching criminals and helping children and adults heal from the devastation of sexual abuse. I have personally interacted with The Family Sunshine Center in Montgomery and the Rape and Sexual Abuse Center in Nashville. Both programs are run by gracious and compassionate people. If you have time or money to give to your local program, by all means, they need a hand. But if you want to know how to help, just look around. Three million children need us to pay attention, to ask uncomfortable questions and speak up when we think something is wrong. And 39 million adults need to talk.

in other news

I've started reading again. After the baby was born, I reread some of my favorites because books are like comfort food for me, and I wanted the familiarity. But last week I decided it was time to move on. So - not yet ready for heavy reading, I got several of the kinds of books you can read in an afternoon. Jodi Picoult, Jacqueline Mitchard, and Ann Lamott (her novels, not her nonfiction). Here's my opinion, if you are at all interested.

Ann Lamott - boo. All characters sound like herself as presented in nonfiction, only sadder and with no plot development. I much prefer her nonfiction, where she doesn't need a plot and can be funny and poignant without trying to develop a character.

Jodi Picoult is okay, but it reads like a Lifetime movie. I know some of you love her, and I keep trying to, as well, but it's just not happening. Not so far, anyway.

I like Jacqueline Mitchard better. She's similar to Jodi Picoult in the tragedy-turned-hopeful-with-a-plot-twist formula, but I think she's a better writer. She's got better characters, too. Less predictable.

For what it's worth.

day 6

is Chaotic Hammer, who says

* Since the first case of AIDS was diagnosed in 1983, more than 25 million people have died from this deadly disease.

* Every 14 seconds a child is orphaned by AIDS.

* More than 12 million African children and 15 million children worldwide have lost one or both parents to AIDS.

* By 2010, it's projected that more than 25 million children worldwide will be orphaned by AIDS.

* There are 14,000 new HIV infections each day: around 2,000 of those daily infections are in children younger than 15 years of age and 6,000 are in young people ages 15-24.

* Currently, 38.6 million people in the world live with HIV; 24.5 million of those live in sub-Saharan Africa.

* 2.3 million children younger than 15 years of age live with HIV.

* Nine out of 10 children living with AIDS are African.

* Females are 12-20 percent more vulnerable to HIV transmission than males of the same ages.

* Every minute a child under 15 dies of an AIDS-related illness.

* Each month, more people die from AIDS than were killed in the Southeast Asia tsunami that shocked the world in late 2004.

Raindrop Prelude

In the world outside of this blog (i.e., the real world), I have struggled with the 40 Day Fast.

One reason is what Shaun Groves mentions today - the public discussion of a private spiritual practice. I don't tell people (outside of Brian, since we typically have meals together) when I'm fasting unless I have to for a specific reason. Even then, I don't talk about why. I don't know how to explain this very well, but it feels like I'm telling a secret if I do. Intercession, by nature, is intensely private. I'm also not very expressive during corporate worship for the same reasons. It's not embarrassment, it's just - personal.

The other reason I've struggled is the draw toward sameness. A friend emailed me yesterday to ask, "Are we supposed to pray for child hunger and Compassion International? Am I going to look too weird if I don't?" (That isn't what she asked exactly, but that became the direction of our conversation). This is the danger of corporate worship; it is so easy to just do what others are doing in order to be a part of the group. It's harder to stick out, to be more or less visible (depending on what the group is doing), to ask questions or have a different opinion.

There is spiritual benefit in corporate worship as well as corporate spiritual disciplines. Scripture is full of examples of what can happen when a group of people stand before God together. I don't question at all if this is a right or good way to be a part of the kingdom of God. Even so - for me, I have to be careful to have integrity in the way I participate. I have to pray the way the Holy Spirit has prompted me, and not for choose a topic because it's the easiest way to blend in. I also have to consider my words carefully when I write, and make sure I'm not just saying what I think other people want to hear. As in all spiritual practices, my motivations are what pleases God over and above the actual thing. So I'm constantly thinking through my motivations.

But I'm still doing it - I'm still writing and praying for the next 35 days. I write because talking is what I can do. How can you respond if you aren't aware of the need? How can you be aware of the need, and not respond? And I pray because prayer is the way God's work is done.

day 5

is Kristen.

One unintended effect of the 40 Day Fast is that I've blogged more in the past week than I have in the past month. I'm going to need to fast from blogging by the time we're done.

When Asher was first born, I was a little bit crazy.

I spent the first two weeks obsessing over whether I should be putting him down awake, or holding him. Then it was if he should sleep in his basket (the "recommended" position, that he hated) or in his carseat (that he loved). I fretted over every tiny mundane detail of his day. It was ridiculous. The worrying culminated in the third month, when I spent a few weeks trying to put him down awake so that he would learn to fall asleep in his bed on his own (at ten weeks old! I told you I was crazy). It was torturous for both of us. He would scream for an hour while I stood outside of his door, trying to decide how long to let him cry before I went to him. Finally I decided I couldn't take it. Maybe Ezzo would say I was ruining my child, but so what - I couldn't, in good conscience, let my infant cry without consoling him. So I learned how to trust myself with my baby a little, and started rocking him to sleep. Asher and I both felt good about it. In a few weeks, he would relax his little body as soon as we settled into the recliner. I relaxed, too, and resigned myself to fighting the sleep battle later.

And this is what I just can't seem to accept about life - that everything changes. No matter how good or bad a situation is, it is never static.

Because this weekend, Asher decided he prefers his bed to being rocked. I never had to fight the sleep battle, I never had to go through the "how long do I let him cry" question at all. He made up his own mind, just like that.

Who knew.

day 4

is Shaun.

Also, with all of the talk about giving, this article might interest you. Turns out Americans are more generous than you'd think.

she's a little bitty baby.

Carrie is now the mama of two little girls!

Kaylan Grace was born this morning (sometime around 10:30 a.m. - not sure of the exact time). It was a fast labor, and everyone is healthy. She is 7 lbs, 11 oz, and has a ton of black hair.

KB went with her dad first to meet her new little sister. When she came back to the waiting room, she announced to the crowd of family and friends (in a high pitched tone, for emphasis), "She's a little bitty baby!" Then held her fingers close together, to illustrate.

SO CUTE.

Such a sweet family.

day 3

is Sam. Read more here.

Also - Carrie, KB's mom and formerly BUF, is having a baby RIGHT NOW. But if the baby doesn't slow down, or the anesthesiologist doesn't hurry up, she's going have that baby al naturale. YIKES. That was not what she had planned. So please, if you feel so inclined, pray for the safety of the delivery, and if God feels so inclined, that she'll be able to have an epidural, too.

One last thing - Asher is beginning to understand me when I talk to him. The other day he was sitting in my lap, making a sleepy sound. I said to him, "Let's go change your diaper, then it's time to go night-night." I swear he knows what I said, because he started to complain as soon as I said it. It's like I spent so much time with this grunty squirmy CREATURE that I forgot one day very soon he is going to be a miniature person, and not just a baby forever. I don't know if that makes any sense or not ...

the fasted lifestyle

God bless the men and women at the International House of Prayer (IHOP) who have devoted their lives to fasting and praying. And He has. I'm sure of it.

There is a popular phrase that IHOPers use to describe their goal - "the fasted lifestyle." It means to choose a lifestyle of voluntary weakness in order to be more aware of our dependence on God. One of the physiological responses to fasting from food is that it clears your head; you are able to pray without distraction, and to concentrate more intensely than you could if your belly was full. Removing distractions and excesses in life has the same effect. In Kansas City (other pockets have formed all over the world, but Kansas City is the hub), right at this moment, there are hundreds of 20somethings in a renovated stripmall, weeping, worshipping, and praying. There are musicians talented enough to make a life in Nashville who choose instead to lead worship in the middle of the night, singing for all they're worth to an almost empty room and an attentive God. While we were there, there was so little emphasis on individual talent that I never did figure out the name of my favorite musician. He was SO talented, and still, I can only refer to him as the Revelation 4 Guy. It isn't just young adults that have committed to a fasted lifestyle, though. Businessmen arrive at 4 a.m. so they can pray before work; mothers of babies spend naptime in the prayer room, sleeping children in their arms. Kids pray after school, teenagers are there on Friday nights. There are hundreds of people in one room at any given moment, 24 hours a day, 365 days a year, worshipping, fasting, and praying. It is an atmosphere that obliterates pretention. We loved it.

I'm excited to know that even though we're here, and they're there, spiritually, we will spend the next few weeks together in corporate prayer. And I'm also curious to see what the God who has orchestrated all of this has up His sleeve.

day two

Brant Hansen is fasting and praying today for child hunger. He has a great story about his experience in Calcutta that's worth reading. He talked about the thin veil between mercy and death, darkness and light. Read more here.

ALSO, finally, my mom has started a blog. Yay!

bigger than us

Lou Engle and The International House of Prayer are leading a corporate forty day fast - RIGHT NOW. NO KIDDING. It will culminate in corporate prayer, worship, and fasting on July 7 (7/7/07) at the Titans Stadium in Nashville. This is IHOP! In Nashville! And our fasts are overlapping!

I'm going to write more about IHOP and the fasted lifestyle in the next few days. Stay tuned.

and they're off

The 40 Day Fast starts today; Kat is fasting for child hunger and talking about Compassion International. She says that the nutritional needs of the world's poorest children could be met with $19 billion a year. Meanwhile, in the western world,

* We spend $18 billion annually on makeup alone.
* We spend $17 billion on pet food.
* We spend $11 billion on ice cream.
* We spend $35 billion on bottled water.

What I want to know is, WHO spends $18 billion on make-up? I spend about 18$ a year on make-up. If that. My household does contribute to the pet food and ice cream industries, though. But we try not to buy bottled water unless we don't have a choice. ANYWAY - that's what's happening today in the 40 Day Fast.

Look! I posted a picture on my profile, which was actually more complicated than it should have been. Now I'm going to work on posting links to blogs I read. I've been using blogger for almost two years; maybe it's time for me to actually learn to use it, eh?

Also, Asher was six months old on Tuesday. He got a tooth for his birthday. It was actually very sad for him, but part of growing up all the same. He's learning so much right now - how to roll over to get his toy, how to squeal at the appropriate decibel to receive a response from his parents, how to avoid a stroller, not to kick a piece of furniture, because that joker HURTS. Things like that. He's so long, he looks more like 9 months than 6 (and he's wearing a size 12 mo clothes). He's also starting to sit up. Our house is lively, and all is well.

Two hours later:

SERIOUSLY what do I win for conquering blogger? Also, if you have abandoned your blog I didn't link to it.

on power outages and suffering

(written Sunday night)

Our power is out. You have to love the technology that allows me to type by candlelight.

I spent the first hour willing the lights to come back on. When that didn’t work, I called the power company. Shortly after, the lights flickered for a moment before dying again. Now it’s getting warm, my eyes are strained from the contrast of a computer screen to a dimly lit room, and I’m starting to get irritable because I am uncomfortable. It’s an interesting moment to consider suffering. My intention had been to get a jump start on my post for the 40 Day Fast that starts this week. Now that I’m uncomfortable, I’m having a hard time feeling philosophical.

Which leads to an interesting thought (this is a conversation some of us have had in person, but worth repeating, in my opinion) – there is a distance necessary for reflection. A runner can’t write poetry during a race; she’s too busy trying to breathe and make it up the next hill. Only when the race is over, after she’s cooled off, had a shower, had a good meal, can she reflect on the experience. Those watching her run, however, can describe what they see from the sidelines quite eloquently. Though their perspectives will be different, both have something to say, and an observer has the necessary distance for reflection even in intense moments. It’s an important point as we prepare to fast.

In the face of suffering, there is an element of guilt over comfort. My favorite dinner blessing comes from a would-be missionary. It is her habit to say, “Lord thank you for this food, and for the ease with which we have it.” Amen. Should I lament my ease? Denounce it? Thank God for it? My opinion really depends on when you ask. I am a walking contradiction, buying secondhand clothes and two dollar coffee in the same day. But rather than denying my access to comfort, I want to use all that I have to the glory of God. Right now, what I have is the distance necessary for reflection. I have the luxury of being philosophical. And while reflection alone doesn’t fill a belly, it ain’t nothing, either.

We speak on behalf of those who are hungry or sick or hurt because talking is what we can do. It’s not all we can do, but it’s still important. How can I respond if I’m not aware of a need? And how can I know there’s a need, but not respond? So I sit in the dark, and do my best to describe what I see. It’s hard, and I don’t really want to do it, but I will do it anyway. I’m thankful for the distance, the ability to reflect, and I am unable to look away.

A great line from the West Wing comes to mind. “Never doubt that a small band of dedicated people can change the world. Why? Because it’s the only thing that ever has.”

This conversation I keep having with my friends on the phone? About God's will? And I keep trying to write about it, but always botch it, because we always end up talking about something other than what I meant? Yeah. Shaun Groves says what I mean here.

You guys have been holding out on me.

Admit it. You already knew about Morse v. Frederick and haven't spoken up. Shame on you for not sharing, and shame on me for being so behind on current events.

The Washington Post says, " ... a classic conflict between a second-semester senior impatient to move on in the world and his frazzled principal trying to maintain order has become an only-in-America battle spawning numerous lawsuits, conflicting court rulings and changes that shook the lives of its participants." The full article is here.

God bless America.

Andy Osenga is a genius.

Several other people have already talked about this, so you probably already know. But Andy Osenga made an EP in his basement with all kinds of stipulations that you can read about when you download the music for free HERE. To support my claim, I'm posting the lyrics from my favorite song from the EP below. I had to write these by hand to get them to you (think 7th grade, and me with a purple radio and a tape at the ready, waiting for the Top 8 at 8 to come on Y102. How many hours did I devote to recording music from the radio and then writing down the lyrics? And why did I DO that?). Enjoy.


I caught myself
looking in the mirror
wishing I was someone else
cause I was born
with a bleeding heart
and veins of loneliness

and I know it, I've seen it,
I've held it in my arms
but love can't seem to break me down

and I've pleaded, I've begged
and I've bloodied my eyes
just to feel it
to believe it will stick around

swing wide the glimmering gates

I told myself
the habits and secrets
were just to get me through
to get me through the nights
but I got lost
in a world of angles
in a city of grays and lies

and I feel it, I taste it
this longing to be free
oh the joy of believing like a child

so you, you there listening
will you send up a prayer for me
to help me find the light

swing wide the glimmering gates
leave your pride and pain
swing wide the glimmering gates
and be innocent again

one day I believe
I will open up my eyes
to see the good work that was begun
and I'll be the only things
I've ever wanted to be
and I know that I'll belong

swing wide the glimmering gates

post secret

This is NOT my post secret.

Which means -

Someone else is living my life! They even use the correct pacifier. I'm way more likely than Brian to mix up their names. But Brian is a great dad to them both.

short and sweet: a quick thought on love and cliches

I realized something a few years ago - cliches exist because they describe a common experience. They may not be creative, but they work. They are only trite when the reader is removed from the emotion, but for those who can connect with the emotion (either from their own experience or from the power of the text), cliches don't seem, well, cliche at all.

Here's what I mean. All week I've been reading posts about parents and children. A few years ago I would have rolled my eyes and skimmed the posts; they would have felt canned and unoriginal to me. But now, I can't read them without tearing up. I get it now. I don't write more about Asher because what would I say? If you aren't a parent, I'm going to sound sentimental. And if you are, I don't need to say it. You already know.

The Way I See It, #260

Playing in an independent rock band will eventually make you equal parts truck driver, gladiator, and mule. Glamour is for those with trust funds.

- Neko Case, musician

Indeed.

at your request

Because I was tagged - A few things you probably don't know about me (although some of you already knew some of these, right?):

1. I eat scrambled eggs with spinach and cheese for a fast meal. Actually, I eat spinach several days a week. I prefer it to leaf lettuce in salads.

2. I've started doing Taebo in my living room on weekday mornings. Today was day two. Here is what Taebo is like - did you ever sing Father Abraham at Bible school? Many sons had Father Abraham ... I am one of them, and so are you ... so let's just praise the Lord RIGHT ARM. Remember? And at the end, you'd be doing RIGHT ARM LEFT ARM RIGHT FOOT LEFT FOOT NOD YOUR HEAD TURN AROUND and then, twirling and flailing, you'd sing - Father Abraham had many sons, and many sons had Father Abraham. Yeah. That's Taebo. Except I also have an audience. Asher and Taylor (the queasy dog) sit on the edge of the rug and gawk at me. The best is when Asher grabs his feet while he watches - baby Taebo, I suppose. I swear sometimes I'm living in a movie.

3. I have a baked bean stain in the floorboard of my car from a hasty potluck dish gone awry. The combination of this and Taebo makes me the quintessential housewife.

4. I bungee jumped the summer after I graduated from high school. It was so safe it was practically a ride, not a sport, but still. I did it.

5. I was cruising right along with losing baby weight and then - wham. A plateau. I promised myself when I was 9 months pregnant and the size of a doublewide that I would quit being so critical of my non-pregnant body, so I've tried not to get too worked up over it. But I do have another 15 pounds I'd like to lose. Hence, Taebo.

6. This is more a question than a statement - what do you do, moms of toddlers, when a baby is too big for the infant carrier but not big enough to ride in the grocery cart? I wore him in the Snuggli today, and that seemed to go well. But it is summer in Alabama (in a drought, no less) and it is currently 97* at 7:21 p.m. What are my other options? So I guess the thing you probably didn't know is that Asher has graduated to a car seat. He's out of the detachable infant carrier completely. He has also cut one tooth and is trying his hardest to cut the one next to it (which I'm sure is why he wasn't sleeping a few weeks ago. He's sleeping much better now). As soon as they are visible to the non-parental eye, I'll post some pictures. One final baby thing - if anyone has a sling they are not using, I'd really like one. Or if you find one on clearance or at a yard sale or something, let me know. I have a cuddly baby, and even though he's outgrown the newborn stage when the sling would have been really helpful, I'd love to be able to strap him on my hip. I'm pretty sure he would be a good candidate for a sling.

7. I have been participating in a study about prejudice at Harvard. Anyone can do it - if you're interested, click here. It measures your response time to sorting words, so it's pretty much impossible to cheat, and it looks at attitudes about all kinds of things. So far it seems I prefer the underdog. I associate white men with guns (because they hunt, and are generally responsible for random mass murders, duh), I prefer the disabled to the able, the old to the young, and fat people over thin. I have no distinguishable preference between gay and straight people, and I prefer Barak Obama to Hillary Clinton. However, I do not associate Hillary Clinton with "bad", nor do I associate George W. Bush with "evil." Go figure. Anyway, if you're interested, it doesn't take long at all, and it's pretty interesting.

Now - Tag. You're it.

toilets, fasting, irony. in no particular order.

The dog just threw up twice and the toilet just overflowed, and the ruckus woke up the baby (who was asleep in my arms when I realized the dog was throwing up and began chasing him outside), and it's not even 8:30 a.m. So what kind of award is this day going to get? Because it's going to need one.

But that's not what I stopped in to say.

I stopped in to tell you that Kat is organizing a 40-day fast. It was inspired by a picture on her blog that is - how do I describe it? - I don't even know. Anyway, stop by Kat's blog. Look at the picture, read about the fast, see if you're interested. She would like to have 40 participants; right now she has 11. If any of my nonblogging friends are interested in participating, you are welcome to guest post here when it's your turn.

And isn't the social phenomenon of the internet interesting? Average Blogger (you're anything but, by the way), this would be a great post for your new blog. It was your senior project that inspired my continual rant about the ironies of the internet. How we are both more connected to others, but less connected to our surroundings, because of the time we spend talking through this little black box. Although I guess it's only one of many little black boxes upon which we are dependent. Anyway, I've been thinking about this a lot recently, as Heather is traveling for the funeral of a friend she made online, and as I prepare to join my own online friends in fasting.

Happy Monday, everyone.

on hypocrisy, gratitude, and service

If you want this to make sense, read Lane's question first.

I don't know. I don't think I have an answer, or even a strong opinion, just some comments. I understand the reasoning behind salaries for ministers - paying them allows them - us - to be focused on the task at hand. It means our energy can be put completely into serving others, rather than paying the bills. One minister joked that the intercessors in the prayer room - who raise support, similar to missionaries - were spending half their prayer time saying, "Dear God, the rent is due." Maybe they are. If they were earning middle class salaries, would they be able to concentrate better? Maybe. Brian and I both have almost always been paid for our service to the church. And we paid off a vehicle with the profits from Christian merchandise one summer. That was almost certainly hypocritical, but was also one brick in the path that led to the prayer room and the ability to live below the poverty line for a year. People in glass houses shouldn't throw stones. But I also know that poverty is honored in Scripture. Paul refused money so that people would take him seriously, but Jesus defended the Apostles receiving financial support from those who had benefited from their ministry. And I can't explain why I'm irked to see a minister driving a Lexus, but I am. I know what my reaction is to your question, but I'm not sure I can defend it. So, I don't know.

I also know from experience - softened as it was by the extraordinary graciousness of friends and family - the blessing of poverty. I could keep a blog that just focused on this one topic. It brings an acute awareness of our utter dependence on God. Like I said, because of the generosity of others I never went without a meal, nor did I sleep in my car. But there were many many moments where I could not imagine how we were going to get through last year without financial ruin. Somehow, we did. I appreciate what I have so much more than I did before that experience. Poverty also gave me a gratitude for the church, because I have experienced the generosity of believers. And the fruit of poverty has been a kind of peace and contentment that money just can't buy. So maybe it's not a question of hypocrisy as much as it is a missed opportunity. Maybe if we weren't so rich, we'd love God more.

Again with the things to say and no time to write it. I'll tell you guys later what's been keeping me busy this week (maybe. Probably.), but in the meantime, here's something weird. I found a link to a blog of a girl named Steph G. who signs her posts "musical mommy." Now I'm no musical mommy, but I AM Steph G. Also? We have the same blogspot template.

Weird.

don't mess with

Doesn't this look like a meeting? The Male Caucus of the Gates family, or something.




Sleep has become an issue (again) for Asher, which means it's a precious commodity for Brian and me. The hard part is that Asher is learning cause and effect, so we have to think through how we respond to him when he wakes up at night. Thinking through anything at 1 am takes a good bit of mental energy. A friend commented that it's amazing any child makes it through early childhood unscathed when you consider all of the decisions that have to be made in the middle of the night. So true.




Such a happy kid.

a baby post - because i'm ready to change the subject

A piece of advice for my pregnant friends and acquaintances: unless you have a specific problem that comes up after the baby is born, skip the baby books. I know that pregnancy books are helpful, so it feels like baby books will be too, but I promise you will be glad you didn't read them. I spent the first three months trying to unlearn what the books told me I had to do. Add the "have to" pressure to crazy hormones, sleep deprivation, and recovering from surgery, and you can see why I was a little, um, off for a few months. The best thing you can do to get ready for the baby is to find someone you know and trust who has kids that you like. And then buy them dinner. Often, in fact. Because in a few months you're going to need to be able to call them and say, "What the heck just happened to my baby?" And believe it or not, they'll know.

I have two friends - Carrie and Stephanie (Georgia and Sawyer's mom, not myself as third person) - that I call regularly to say, what the heck? Honestly, if I didn't have someone to call for advice, I would have no clue what to do sometimes. I just don't know how you're supposed to know this stuff unless someone tells you. Instincts are helpful and important, but some of it is counterintuitive.

Anyone who says babies will sleep when they're tired and eat when they're hungry has never had one of their own.

I really don't mean to imply that I'm arguing against prayer. I'm not, in any way. Stephanie says I'm really tripping over the sovereignty of God, and that it's my Presbyterian roots that are giving me trouble. Maybe so. She says (I really really wish she would comment here, because she has the BEST responses to our conversations) that maybe we all make too big of a deal out of God's will sometimes. That our life is a gift to us from God who loves us. Just as anyone who gives a gift wants the recipient to enjoy it, God wants us to enjoy our lives. Huh.

I think what I was noticing in my friend's comment the other day are ways that a prosperity gospel has infiltrated the mainstream church. And I'm pretty sensitive to that, because I don't believe God has promised any of us a life of ease. As far as common prayer versus personal prayer goes - I think I agree with Elizabeth and Valerie. It is one more scenario in which life is about balance.

Speaking of prayer - for those of you who feel so inclined -

There's a family at my church - Rita and William Andrews. They have teenage twins, and have adopted two little girls internationally with down syndrome. They left last week for Bogata, Colombia, where they will complete the adoption of two more little girls who are biological sisters. The older of the two, Gabriella, is five years old and has down syndrome. The Andrews arrived at the orphanage on Monday to find Gabriella sick. Yesterday she was admitted to the hospital with double bacterial pneumonia. The Andrews now have a sick child in a foreign hospital; they don't speak the language, and the orphanage has been clear that the Andrews will be responsible for all of her medical care, and their insurance won't cover them because they are overseas. If you feel so inclined, please keep the Andrews family in your prayers this weekend.

Happy Friday, everyone.