Romans

This is why the fulfillment of God's promise depends entirely on trusting God and his way, and then simply embracing him and what he does. God's promise arrives as pure gift. That's the only way everyone can be sure to get in on it, those who keep the religious traditions and those who have never heard of them. For Abraham is father of us all. He is not our racial father -- that's reading the story backwards. He is our faith father.

We call Abraham "father" not because he got God's attention by living like a saint but because God made something out of Abraham when he was nobody. Isn't that what we've always read in Scripture, God saying to Abraham, "I set you up as father of many peoples"? Abraham was first named "father" and then became a father because he dared to trust God to do what only God could do: raise the dead to life, with a word make something out of nothing. When everything was hopeless, Abraham believed anway, deciding to live not on the basis of what he saw he couldn't do but on what God said he would do. And so he was made father of a multitude of peoples. God himself said to him, "You're going to have a big family, Abraham!"

Abraham didn't focus on his own impotence and say, "It's hopeless. This hundred-year-old body could never father a child." Nor did he survey Sarah's decades of infertility and give up. He didn't tiptoe around God's promise asking cautiously skeptical questions. He plunged into the promise and came up strong, ready for God, sure that God would make good on what he had said. That's why it is said, "Abraham was declared fit before God by trusting God to set him right." But it's not just Abraham, it's also us! The same thing gets said about us when we embrace and believe the One who brought Jesus to life when the conditions were equally hopeless. The sacrificed Jesus made us fit for God, set us right with God.

Romans 4:17-25 (The Message)

Check it out...

...this is my gorge fam at Joe's Crab Shack. Out of all the hip, fabulous places in Nashville that my dad could have chosen to have his birthday dinner at, he chose Joe's. Walden, Mister Six-Five, sticks out like a sore thumb. My tall little hubband...isn't he cute?? That gray blob over our heads is the famous Joe's shark. Max was afraid to touch it and kept trying to hide from it during dinner. (Poor Max, our table was practically right under the shark's tail...) I suggest that you not get the lobster at the Franklin Joe's Crab Shack. Jen, Maia, and I all had the lobster tail and mine was tough, while Jen's and Maia's took for-ev-er to come out. We were practically through eating when their lobster came out. According to Jen, Outback has great lobster. It's been awhile since I had great seafood. The last time I remember having a great fishy meal, we were in South Carolina at the beach. Which reminds me...

And now one of my favorite pictures from Myrtle Beach. I love this picture, just because it really shows that father-son relationship that Max and Walden have. Walden is such a great dad...not that I had any doubt. Max just loved playing in the sand. He liked to sit right at the surf and dig holes in the sand, just letting the waves wash over him. He is such a sweet boy! I cannot believe that he'll be fourteen months tomorrow...it seems like he just turned six months...then a year! Good grief...he's growing up so fast. He's so independent now compared to just a few months ago -- he's walking, talking, saying all kinds of things, even letting us know exactly what he wants. He is so smart...of course, I am pretty biased, but what are mothers for? It's hard to believe that just two years ago, I dreaded his presence, and now I can't breathe without him. My son...

P.S. Isn't my hubband a hunk!!

Have I ever mentioned how much I adore my family? Not just my "new" family, that is, Walden & Max, but my family-family. My parents, my sisters, and my brother...as we've gotten older and, inevitably, more mature (riiiight), I can hardly remember the bad things about our family, the petty fights, sibling rivalry, unfair parental rules...and all I know of my family is that they make me laugh more than anyone or anything in the world.

I get to see most of them (sans bro Mike, as he is still serving in England...that air force whore...boo) this weekend. We're all going to rendevous in Nashville for my dad's birthday, and I am so thrilled that I get to go!! It's always hard getting away on the weekends because my husband is a workaholic...I mean, he works a lot. Anyway, so we're going to Nashville, oh, so exciting! When my sisters and I get together, it's like a slumber party, a 24-hour giggle-fest. If the whole world were privy to our inside jokes, we would make a killing as a comedic trio. We are that funny.

I love my family more than anything, my sisters, my brother (I miss him so, so much), and of course, my parents, the devious genetic masterminds behind our beautifully functional dysfunctionality. (I made up a psychological term, didn't I? Just call me Freud. No...don't...he was a quack.) I can only hope that Max will be as close to his siblings as we all are (granted, if we aren't broken when it comes time to having more kids...Max is giving us a run for our money!). My family is truly the coolest thing around, and I am so, so lucky.

That old, old Bebo Norman song "Somewhere Past the Quiet" always reminded me of my family, even though he is talking about him and his brother and his dad, and that's only three people, and there's actually six people in my family, but all details aside, it can totally apply to our fam. I'll have to write out the lyrics later because Max is so ready for his nap and I'm almost out of those tasty distractions Cheez-Its. Mommy Duty calls. Over and out, Ghostrider.

Like...

Oh my gas. Sunkist is totally, like, liquid crack. Ohhhh, how I love being kissed by the sun. Sunkist!

On another note, I am a freaking gourmet chef. Seriously. Toot toot! That's me, tooting my own horn. Who'da thunk?

And...Law and Order: SVU is probably the greatest L & O branch out there. Detective Stabler looks like Buzz Lightyear. I really hope he doesn't have a mental breakdown this season. Olivia needs him. Ohhhhh, me.

I feel like that ADHD kid, bouncing around. Only my drug of choice is THE SUNKIST! Ahhhh...so delish. A'ight. I'm out like the fat kid in dodgeball...

Wow...

I talked to a sweet, sweet friend of mine this morning and I found out in one conversation that she was pregnant (woohoo!) and has miscarried last Thursday (gasp). She and her husband are such sweet, loving people, a beautiful couple with two beautiful girls. Although they weren't trying to get pregnant quite so soon (their second daughter just turned two last May), they had accepted the news with excitement and had already grown attached to the baby. She calls it "their little Katrina" because it blew in and blew out so quickly, leaving so much destruction. There really is no way to describe the kind of feeling that comes with hearing that kind of news, I can barely imagine how she and her husband are taking it. And it is so hard to see from the outside how they are both grieving; I've found that it is harder for me to accept God's will in tragic situations that happen to people like them. In my own life, that's a different story; it's almost like I cope better firsthand. But the Harrisons are such loving people...they have been with Walden and me from the beginning of our relationship, when we began as friends, then began a courtship, throughout the mistakes we made, the ups and downs...and Sandra has really been one to weather the storms with me, spiritually guide me both as a mother and a wife. It is so...disturbing I guess is the best word...to watch them of all people face this kind of situation. My heart just hurts for them.

One thing I did want to share was the metaphor Sandra used to explain to her seven-year-old what had happened to her new sibling. The Lord says that He knits us together in our mother's womb. Well, little Lydia has been learning how to knit, and Sandra asked her what happens when she makes a mistake while knitting the chain, and Lydia said, "I undo it." And Sandra just continued to explain that the Lord was knitting together this little baby and somehow, something went wrong. So instead of continuing to knit together a child who has a chink somewhere in the chain, He just chose to undo it right now, and will start over later. That simple little metaphor really helped Sandra come to terms with the miscarriage, as well as helping my little mind accept that these things do happen to beautiful people.

In the very least, I'm anticipating what kind of good work the Lord is going to do through this situation. Sandra is an InterVarsity staff member at Maryville College and leads a women's Bible study at our church, so she is in position to use this as a ministry. I just get excited, not at the tragedy, but at the hand that guided this miscarriage and will usher us all -- not just the Harrisons, but everyone touched by them -- into a lesson of His character.

I have felt so thankful for Max and his health and intelligence, and how God chose to bless us with his birth and life. When I first found out I was pregnant with Max, I had a dream that I had miscarried. Not that I wanted to, but since we had gotten pregnant out of wedlock, a miscarriage would almost be like a solution -- we wouldn't be having an abortion, which we were completely against from the start, and we would have spared our parents, our friends, and the students we were leaders to the pain, doubt, and disappointment of finding out we screwed up big time. I know that makes me sound like a monster, but you'd be surprised what kind of things your subconcious comes up with when ridden with guilt.

Anyway, now I'm just rambling. I hate it. I hate it a thousand times. They do not deserve this. And I guess I'm just using this as an outlet to let out my frustration and sadness before seeing Sandra this week. I don't want to burden her with my emotions while she is so bogged down with her family's coping. Bless them, Lord. Ugh, I am so sick about this. Please, please pray for them.

Which to choose, which to choose?

My church is starting a women's Bible study this Sunday and the two books we are debating between studying are: Living Free: Learning to Pray God's Word by Beth Moore, and A Beautiful Offering: Returning God's Love with Your Life by Angela Thomas. I've never heard of either of these authors, but both look great to me, just from what I've gathered. I don't guess we can really go wrong when we desire to stick our faces in the Word and dig deep.

If anyone has any experience with either author or book, please give a shout out. I'm really looking forward to this Bible study. I'm a little nervous, though, because we're meeting before church, which means Walden has to get Max and himself ready on his own without me! Last time Walden had to get Max ready by himself, we were going to a wedding and I had to be there early because I was a bridesmaid, aaaaaaand...Max showed up in his pajamas. No lie. Yikes. We'll see how God provides this Sunday...and I'm looking forward to it, because I know God has a sense of humor too... ;)

A'ight, homies. More lata, fly-dawgs. Peace out.

By the way...

...who the heck decided it was a good idea to put nuts in every single brand of caramel corn?? That's like putting the seeds in fruit popsicles. Honestly, people. There are nut-lovers out there who could use them, sans the goodness of caramel corn. Don't waste. Now I have a no-good bag of caramel covered pecans that just took up space in an already too-small bag of caramel corn. Who thinks of these things? They ought to be fired.

Katrina and Myrtle

I don't even know where to begin. Above everything, there's nothing like a national disaster on the scale of Katrina to make one realize how pointless things are. Where do I start? How can I help? It seems as if no matter what I do or how much we can afford to give, it won't be enough. Somewhere, my dollar stops. And as small and insignificant as that makes me feel, so much more so does it make me realize how great a provider God is. Where my dollar stops, and where everyone else's goodwill ends, the Lord's provision is only a fraction into it. Wow. This storm brought our nation to its knees, quite literally -- imagine the power behind that storm, the power of the Creator. That is mindboggling.

My cousin and her husband lived in New Orleans and are still unaccounted for. I'm pretty sure they made it out before the storm hit, and I'm pretty sure they're probably already back helping, because they are both doctors. But nonetheless, if you think of it, please pray for them. I'm comfortable thinking they are just swamped with the task of cleaning up, helping others medically and emotionally, and piecing their lives together. And I'm positive they are safe. I'll be sure to report on their safety once we hear from them.

On a much, much lighter note, Walden, Max, and I went to Myrtle Beach this past weekend with Walden's mom, brother, and stepdad. We had a blast! It was such a different pace from the life we live on a daily basis...especially the timing, in the aftermath of Katrina. It's wild how life goes on despite how much life has been lost. The news last night told stories of evacuees coming to Knoxville for shelter, students enrolling in UT, abandoned pets even being housed at the local animal shelters. And the closing note was that UT will still play LSU in two weeks as scheduled. My brother-in-law and his wife came over last night and we were just talking about how, when September 11th happened, the world stopped, football, schools, everything was on hold. And here we are, in a situation where loss of life is comparable to what happened almost four years ago exactly, and woohoo! UT and LSU are still on. And that that was one of the more important thing for Tennesseeans to know. I guess since LSU is higher ranked than good ol' UT, life is suspended on a string until we can prove who really is the better team. Blech.

Wait a second...I was supposed to lighten things up, wasn't I? Well, on that note, here's a picture of Max (left) and my mother-in-law's best friend's grandson, who all joined us at the beach. His name is Boyce and he's seven months older than Max. Until I saw how much Boyce had grown, I never thought I'd say that Max was small! Notice they have matching hoodies...a birthday present for Max from Boyce. It has their initials on the front. Why is it my son is the cutest kid in the universe?