Here's Anna Grace making pottery... while sleeping.
She loves her daddy and her daddy loves her.
A smile!
Monday, August 27, 2007
Wednesday, August 22, 2007
A tough mind and a tender heart
One of my favorite preachers of all time is Martin Luther King Jr. He is, by general consensus, one of the most persuasive speakers to ever step into a pulpit. In his collection of sermons entitled the Strength to Love, he uses his typical imagery and alliteration to state that Christians are to have both a tough mind and a tender heart. He draws from Jesus' command to be as wise as serpents and as innocent as doves to solidify his point.
I never really understood what Jesus or Dr. King meant until this past week. We here at the Bridge Project had our first outreach event in east Asheboro just a couple of days ago. By the grace of God, and with the help of a lot of committed church people, we delivered over 1500 dollars worth of school supplies to some financially less fortunate young people. Some of those who worked with us had done this before. Most of us hadn't, and it showed. We were perhaps naive and over anxious to be of service. Maybe we gave some of those book bags to the wrong people. Maybe there were people who needed them worse than those who got them. Maybe that old lady with the unlit cigarette in her mouth really doesn't have sixteen kids whose book bags all got stolen by a masked bandit with a hook for a hand. I know I need to have my mind toughened, and that until I do, I might get taken a few times. I just hope I don't trade my tender mind for a tough heart.
I never really understood what Jesus or Dr. King meant until this past week. We here at the Bridge Project had our first outreach event in east Asheboro just a couple of days ago. By the grace of God, and with the help of a lot of committed church people, we delivered over 1500 dollars worth of school supplies to some financially less fortunate young people. Some of those who worked with us had done this before. Most of us hadn't, and it showed. We were perhaps naive and over anxious to be of service. Maybe we gave some of those book bags to the wrong people. Maybe there were people who needed them worse than those who got them. Maybe that old lady with the unlit cigarette in her mouth really doesn't have sixteen kids whose book bags all got stolen by a masked bandit with a hook for a hand. I know I need to have my mind toughened, and that until I do, I might get taken a few times. I just hope I don't trade my tender mind for a tough heart.
Wednesday, August 8, 2007
Doozie of a Two-zie
Usually on this blog, we deal with issues related to our ministry. But right now, I would like to pause and reflect upon the pleasures and perils of parenthood. I apologize in advance. We took Anna Grace home from the hospital on July 22. Since then, we have experienced the full-range of highs and lows, all punctuated by a seemingly endless supply of poopy diapers. During her first two days at home, there was virtually no bowel activity to speak of. Naturally, we were concerned. I found myself doing what I never imagined I would do; praying for someone to poop in their pants. That prayer has since been emphatically answered.
That her intestines are functioning at full capacity was never more clear than yesterday afternoon. What began as a routine diaper change quickly descended in to an astonishing display of fecal fireworks. Perhaps sensing that her hiney was finally unfettered, Anna Grace let loose with a barrage of human waste. Laura and I stood by helplessly as our little princess morphed into a merciless projectile of poo-poo. Our baby room used to be decorated in pink. Now it's decorated in a mixture of pink and a brownish-yellow. I just hope the world is ready for her highly interpretive art work. Call me old-fashioned, but I find it all a bit too edgy.
That her intestines are functioning at full capacity was never more clear than yesterday afternoon. What began as a routine diaper change quickly descended in to an astonishing display of fecal fireworks. Perhaps sensing that her hiney was finally unfettered, Anna Grace let loose with a barrage of human waste. Laura and I stood by helplessly as our little princess morphed into a merciless projectile of poo-poo. Our baby room used to be decorated in pink. Now it's decorated in a mixture of pink and a brownish-yellow. I just hope the world is ready for her highly interpretive art work. Call me old-fashioned, but I find it all a bit too edgy.
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