Delectable Thought

On this Good Friday, as I reflect upon the cross and the crucifixion, I'm left to wonder what is the value of a soul. I learned five and half years ago, when my husband and I lost our baby girl, Ella Grace, that in order to arrive at some place of sanity as I walked through the valley of the shadow of death, I had to reconcile what I knew to be true about God with my present circumstances. This is a reality for all of life's journey, I think, not just when we enter our darkest hours. Since that day five and half years ago, I've experienced other things, that before her death, I would have labeled "hard", but since, I've discovered are really just uncomfortable. I know hard things will come again. It is one of our resurrected Savior's promises to us. The Why's in His Ways There aren't enough pages or enough time for me to record all that I've learned and continue to learn about who God is and what God does and how HE connects to my circumstan...

Kanye's public antics and seemingly inflated sense of self have long been a subject of mirth and incredulity for me. I've followed his career off and on since he emerged on the scene as a producer for Rock-A-Fella records. I have a love of hip-hop that dates back to the nineties and Kanye is a part of that. No doubt Kanye has contributed an incredible amount to hip hop and rap. He has produced music for some of the greatest.  Jay-Z and Alicia Keyes to name two. Kanye West is considered one of the greatest rappers of all time. He has won 27 Grammy's, sold millions of albums, yet I woke up this morning to see him begging for money on Twitter. I was left wondering how he got to this point. There's no denying Kanye's contribution to the music industry. But his career and personal life are clouded with controversy. His declaration of himself as a god has long brought him criticism by some and applause by others.  This morning as I read his many tweets asking any...

February 13, 2013---The day we got to pick James up from the orphanage. This is his "gotcha" moment. In this moment, he is ours forever. Where we go, he will go. Where we stay, he will stay. He is no longer under the care of the orphanage, even though we are standing in the orphanage. He is no longer under the rule of the Ethiopian government because he belongs to us. Adoption is not without great loss, great pain.  For me to be this child's mother, a woman is without her son. A father, a grandmother, an aunt, perhaps a sibling. I can never think of this day without thinking of "them". I don't know why they chose to give him up. I will most likely never know, but I do know that God ordained that James Melaku would be our son. Of all the little boys in that orphanage, God chose James' paperwork to the paperwork that was completed, allowing him to be adoptable. God writes our stories. His the author of all life. He does not stop authoring our stories...

Our Posture Is Our Response:Why Women Must Speak Up About Women Being Drafted One Destination Is Reached By Leaving Another We have not arrived at this new destination by accident or happenstance.  We began this journey many decades ago when women bought the idea that they were being oppressed. In reality, they were being oppressed in many ways. They did not have the right to vote or own property. They were thought of as not as intelligent or not as valuable---all ideas and realities that still exist for many women in other parts of the world today. But two wrongs never make a right. The response was a swinging of the pendulum so far to the extreme that we are now left with the over-sexualization of women, the systemic killing of female babies, the transformation of the woman into a feminine version of a man and now, the proposed threat of our daughters and grand-daughters being drafted into military service. Perhaps somewhere, we, as women, began to believe that we were...

One "full" week of pre-school is in the books! What a great week! And JO had his first homework assignment, which really means I had homework. The assignment: Bring in a picture of your pet. Easy enough, right? Big 'ole fat Wrong! We have two dogs---both black labs. June and Coal. I had one picture of June and that's it and this one picture was on the Cloud---you know, the ambiguous, mysterious Cloud. JO insisted on taking a picture of both June and Coal, though I tried to persuade him that it wouldn't really matter because they are basically the same dog, so it would be redundant to take two pictures of basically the same dog.  PIcture One: Coal Picture Two: June. Basically the same picture with the exception of my shadow.  I made the grave mistake of waiting until close to seven pm to head over to The Wal-Mart to print the two pictures of basically the same dog. If you've ever had the thought, I can wait until later to do that because I'll be able to do ...

What? Your children don't hold American Flags out of the window while you're driving down the road? Mine do. Maybe they're really Patriotic or Proud to be an American and all that Lee Greenwood jazz. Or maybe it's just fun to hold things out of the window and let's be honest...I'd rather they hold an object that's NOT attached to their body than lose a hand or arm to some passing vehicle/wall/pole. I may be the only person who worries that my small children with equally small appendages are at risk of having them knocked off by some passing car or truck while we're driving down the road. They are probably more likely to be eaten by zombies, but while I don't admonish them for riding on top of their toy cars or for riding their toys down the driveway at mach nine speeds, I draw the line at holding your arms and hands out of the window! Even if fully extended their arms barey reach past the window. You can just make him out back there celebratin' ...

Time is not on my side, not it's not, no sir. I fought it hard. I landed a few punches, even surprised it with my left-handed ability. I masquerade as a "righty", but really I'm both! I'm a little bruised from this fight, a little worn down. What did Time do to me, you ask? Well, time is a sneaky, dirty dog. You know the kind. They slink around waiting for the right opportunity to steal food off your plate. They seem all docile and friendly because they're hunched down and meek-looking, but they've got shifty eyes and they're always watching. And waiting... waiting to snatch away toddler-hood and replace it with boyhood. That's manhood looking over his shoulder there waiting to teach him about love and hate and loss and the world. Do you see it? I did this morning as I watched this guy walk into school for his first day of Pre-K4.  In a few short weeks he'll be five, so he's the older guy in his class and that's how I surprised time. Th...