Dallas Theological, East Campus

So ~ some interesting... theological-ish... discussions have been happening
around here in the past few days.  Interesting discussions abound when
there's a younger crowd in the house.

Jake and I... well, there's no use trying to explain how we got on this topic. But.

We were discussing bodily functions (nothing too extreme, just sayin).
Boogers came up.  Jake's lightning-quick processing made the leap:

"Did Jesus pick His nose, too?"

I take an awful pride in not being too disturbed by what the boys throw my way.
I try to appear unshaken by most everything.  "Well, of course He picked His nose! It's not a sin! He was fully human, so I'm sure He had boogers!"

For the life of me, I couldn't discern if that was wrong. I hope God might've laughed at my predicament and not been offended at all. I in no way meant to abase the
holiness of God, and He was ~ after all ~ fully the God-Man.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Joe Mac was working on his grammar assignment, which was reviewing how to use quotation marks correctly. Rows of sentences from the book of Luke
lined up for his editing, and I hear: "I don't mean anything rude or
disrespectful about this, but Jesus sure did... well, He talked funny."

I looked at the page and saw, "But Jesus said to him, 'No one, having put his
hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of God."

I bit my tongue to not laugh.

 

So then we talked about good old King James and how HE was to blame for that bunch of odd-sounding words.  Jesus talked in Aramaic, and His Words
came out clear, full of truth and conviction and comfort. Weighty,
but never odd-sounding.

 

Hope God smiled at that one, as well!

C'est la Vie

Such is my life, that this young man lives in my home, a sweet and cherished gift from God...
 

 

Such is my life, that this young dog lives with us as well, another sweet and cherished gift from God (although not as sweet and cherished as the above mentioned young man)...

 

Such is my life, that the aforementioned dog should develop a nasty eye infection, the sight of which causes much "gack! somebody clean Cole's eye!!" from me;

that due to one illness after another in our family, no one's had time to get said dog to the vet; therefore, said eye infection is, while better, taking longer to clear up;

that aforementioned young man, after being exposed to the sight of the infection for far too long, thinks sticking his probiotic capsule in his eye to mimic said nasty-eyed dog is hysterically funny;

thereby causing everyone at the dinner table to fall over laughing; as do I, even though it's my job to teach the young men here that this is not ~ I repeat NOT ~ acceptable dinner-table conversation (snort! snort! where's the camera?)...

 

 

Such is my life! Maybe we've been stuck in the house too long?

Oy Vey

A window into my world:

 

Joe Mac's reading assignment asked what was meant by the following:

 

"A dead silence descended on the group."

 

His answer:

 

"everyone was so quiet that you could hear

a fly break wind in mongolea"

 

(sic)

 

[Please, please notice the "(sic)"...

my pride is begging...]

The Love Guru

So.

Joe.

With all his 10 years of wisdom.  Comes to me this afternoon with this:

"Hey, Mom, did you know that almost all marriages start at the dry cleaners?"

I'm waiting for the punch line.  Trying to figure it out myself before he gives it.  Can't connect that dot.

Huh?

"Yeah!  That's what they keep sayin':  so many people meet at the dry cleaners and get engaged.  Is that crazy or what?"

"What are you talkin' about, Joe?  WHO keeps saying that?"

"On T.V.!  So many people say that about how they fell in love.  It's either that or the vet.  Sheesh!  That's so crazy, idn't it?"

I am worried more than ever about what goes on here when I'm gone to town...

The Dating Game

Mem found this on Pinterest. It is hySTERical!!
And sounds just like a dad I know...
FYI: You'll need to click on the picture to get
a larger view so you can actually read it.

14th Day

So thankful...

For a son who never fails to surpise. Went in this a.m. to kiss Joe awake (the usual routine). Instead of slowly coming to the land of the living and responding with a hug, he gives me this: head pops up, the fog of sleep is gone in a poof, and: "Mom, did you know that there are brown rats EVERYwhere on the earth except for the North Pole and the South Pole? OH!! And except for Alberta, Canada, because the game wardens there keep 'em run off?" (Really? That's your first thought?)

For the freedom to worship God in public. For a sermon that blasts my heart to smithereens; that crushes my pride as I'm reminded that there is none righteousness, no not ONE!; that while I was God's enemy, He chose to give His One and Only Son to pay a horrible penalty for my sins, giving me life and reconciliation and forgiveness; and that I earned not one tiny bit of it... that it was given, a gift of free grace, and I have nothing to boast in, I never will ~ I have only to worship, and be thankful, and stand amazed.

For this website. My boys and I look at it once a week or so. We learn a lot together and end up laughing a lot, too!

Bi-Lingual? I Don't Think So...

So. Jake.

It's been almost 4 years, and he forgot most of his Vietnamese after the first 9 months.

That was an unexpected grief for me. So many conflicted emotions were wrapped around his first months with us. I wanted him to retain his native language, wanting to honor him by encouraging him in his efforts to hold on to all he could of his heritage.

He forgot it all quickly as his mind fought to grasp the new sounds.

Oddly, I remember more Vietnamese words than he does.

It is what it is.

Today, though, in school: we were making words by adding consonant blends to common ending sounds ("-ing," "-at," etc.).

"Jake, what can we add to "-at"?

"P! Pat! Um... S! Sat!"

"Right! Good job! Anything else?"

"W! Wat!"

"Not a word, Jake. What could you add?"

"Wat is a word! It's Vietnamese!" with great offense. And with great confidence.

And so it went. Jake would add odd consonants & blends to ending sounds and then proclaim them "Vietnamese!" "And who are YOU, oh American-non-Vietnamese-speaking-mom-person, to question that?" was the attitude.

sighing, great sighing...

Caught in the Act

Why, yes! Someone has been filming my "it's-4:37-on-a-school-afternoon-and-I'm-ready-for-the-loony-bin" days. (well, only the really bad days...)

Obviously, the film was used for training purposes. Glad to have helped these Maori men find an effective way of releasing that doesn't involve punching holes in things.

Guy on the front row, far right? Wanna give a shout-out to my cousin Gary, twice-removed, mom's side.

Haka from Ben Hall on Vimeo.

(Do not ever ask my kids if it's really this bad on Monday afternoons. I don't want to know what they tell you.)

Waitin' on My White Robe

The (just the) three of us drove home tonight from the Thanksgiving service; Jake, DJ and I were sittin' cozy in the front of the truck.

DJ must have been dwelling on Jake's recent ER visit.

"Hey, Jake, guess what? When we get to Heaven we can wrestle and you won't ever get hurt!"

Jake, never one to not know somethin', answered: "Yep, and we get to eat all the candy we want and never get sick!" (I decided to let that go ~ just let them keep dreamin' of Heaven.)

Jake had more: "OH! And I never have to sleep!"

DJ had one more important fact to offer: "And Jake ~ I don't want you to be astonished when you get there, so I wanna tell you: everybody is naked up there."

"WHAT???!!!" (I'm never good at reacting calmly to things that startle me.)

"Naked? Why in the world... where did you... why do you think that? Who said that?"

DJ was startled, himself: "I don't know. I mean, adults! Lots of moms, lots of adults have said that!"

"Son, you have obviously heard something wrong somewhere. Haven't you heard about us getting robes in Heaven? White robes?" (where is that verse? isn't there a verse? i know there's something about being dressed in white robes... gotta look that up. make sure it's not one of those metaphorical things...)

"No, ma'am..."

"Well, we do. We're not naked. We've got stuff on. So it won't be weird."

DJ laughed as the weight of that awful thought was delivered from his brain. He was relieved!

Jake just asked, "Mom, what do 'naked' mean?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"After these things I looked, and behold, a great multitude which no one

could count, from every nation and all tribes and peoples and tongues,

standing before the throne and before the Lamb,

clothed in white robes, and palm branches

were in their hands..." Revelation 7:9

(whew!!)

(See also Rev. 3:5, Rev. 4:4, Rev. 19:14)

Hi, Ho, Silver!

The two youngest guys have been in a Lone Ranger fest the past two or three days. Somehow along the way we ended up with 3 hours worth, in all its black-and-white-jerkiness glory.

Better that than... a million other things. And Tonto's way cool.

I get called out of the kitchen by DJ: "Hey, Mom, they got the Lone Ranger's dad on this one!"

I'm no Lone Ranger expert, but this sounded like something that needed to be seen. Stepped into the living room to see... a priest.

Don't know what would've went through your mind, but I'm thinking, "Honestly? They've got a story line goin' about a priest fathering the Lone Ranger? Who was his mother? Was it before the priesthood? This was a family show! In, like, the 30's... What?"

Then my dot connected.

"Buddy, did the Lone Ranger call him 'Father'?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Bud, that's because that guy's a Catholic priest! Everyone calls him 'Father'!"

"But Mom! The dad called him 'Son'!"

"That's just what they do. Especially back then. I promise you ~ that man's a priest and has nothing to do with the Lone Ranger."

His face was clear: he wasn't buyin' it.

Halloween in November?

We finally carved the pumpkins this afternoon. Meant to do it before last Sunday (the official Halloween). But this life, this schedule? wasn't gonna happen. So, today.

Just me and the two younger boys. Everyone else was away from home. I waited for the sun to warm the air up a bit so that we'd be comfortable while we carved.

DJ has begged to carve pumpkins since last year. It's not really been a priority for me, ever, but my kids know how to tug my heart strings ~ anything that has "memory-making" on it, and I'm jumping through hoops to get 'er done. (I have this insane fear that my kids will leave home and never want to return if I don't do "just enough" with them. I know, it's crazy... and impossible.)

So, about the pumpkins. Had four on the porch, ready to go. Had bought my carving kit with 15 different stencils. I cut the tops off the pumpkins and cleaned mine and the boys'.

DJ gave up first. He would say it was because he got that nasty cut from the kit's sawing tool ("safer than kitchen knives!!!"), but he was moaning about the nastiness of it a good 7 minutes before the blood-letting.

Jake hung with me longer than I expected, but he'd picked one of the hardest stencils & just ran out of steam dealing with the intricate turns.

I was determined to finish MY pumpkin, so I ended up with the job of all three of them.

Cole (our Lab) was the only one to stick it out with me. He'll do anything for a chest rub now & then on.

So, the pumpkins got done. Lined them up on the porch for pictures. Lit them up when the sun set. And they're beautiful! The boys squealed all over them, just like they'd done them themselves (which you did not!!! don't forget how you bailed on me!!)

The epiphany came after dinner, as I worked in the kitchen. The realization that I need to stop worrying about making my kids happy enough to return home for visits. Because honestly? They're already ruined.

DJ comes in and asks in the sweetest voice (because he knows he can wrap me around his pinkie): "Mom, can you get our candy boxes down? And Jake & I are gonna get dressed up and come to the front door & ring the doorbell, and you're gonna answer and give us our candy?

Because, you know, the pumpkins are lit, and we can play 'Halloween' now."

The explanation for this: our family does not celebrate Halloween. Never have.

Nope, I do not have a problem with other families who want to do this. I don't think others are making some big mistake letting their kids dress up & go trick-or-treating. Period.

The vast majority of people I hang around with, though, don't celebrate Halloween, either, and so we're all on the same page. Instead, we celebrate the Reformation on October 31 with a huge shindig at church. We get a great speaker in each October, we have a church family meal together, and there's a huge party put on for the kids: games, etc. with TONS of candy, awards, and everything else. It's a blast, and our kids have always enjoyed that.

I have close friends who are very passionate about not observing Halloween, and our family thinks it's better to not involve ourselves in a holiday with dark roots. There's enough about Halloween and all it embodies to convict us that it's better for us to focus elsewhere. We LOVE to celebrate the history of the church that began with the Reformation period, and so that's what we choose to do instead.

But then there's DJ, who's always throwing me these curve balls. And as he came and requested a Halloween re-enactment on our front porch, I realized that he will probably be on some psych's couch in 20 years lamenting the fact that he grew up without Halloween!! And Santa! And the Easter Bunny, too, for crying out loud!!

So, they rang the bell and I answered with "oohs" and "aaahs" over their costumes. And I gave myself the rest of the evening off.

Clinging to Truth

He reaches from behind me, encircling me with his man-sized arms. The hug is huge but purposefully gentle. And longer that I'd hoped for. He's been thinking on that.

I turn to face him, to kiss the cheek I suddenly have to reach up for. No more stooping for embraces with this one.

The stubble on the cheek continues to surprise me. Not sure why. It's been there a while. It's prickly, but I enjoy the newness of it, the difference. And I struggle to breathe without tears.

He's having to deal with hair growing. And I find myself in a place where I'm dealing with hair leaving.

The doctors have tested. The handfuls of hair that have been coming out for weeks seem to have started from stress. Just stress. (you think? want to tell me something new?)

I have the sweetest family doctor. Younger than me, which is no longer uncommon at this point of the timeline (ha!). I don't think he knows the Lord, but he has been graced to be one of the kindest people.

His recommendation? "Now, I know you! I know you hate to take anything [I consistently question his prescribing of antibiotics]. I know you are very spiritual [well, Hallelujah!] and don't want to take medication to help you. I just want you to know that there are things that can help you andyouhavesomuchonyourplaterightnowblahblahblah..."

I just smiled. Told him I would exercise more, eat better. And I would be fine.

For the record, I don't believe that a person should NEVER take medications to help them cope. I know of one person in particular who is on depression meds and should probably stay on them for the rest of their life. Sin affects all of us, including our brains, and some people's hard wiring is in such a bad place that medication is absolutely necessary for them to think clearly.

I just think that so many (most?) people are medicated, by their choice, because they don't want to face their problems, and because they think life should be comfortable. Easy(ier). That pain is unacceptable.

And that's bunk. Life is wretched, often, because that's what sin does to everything. This is NOT supposed to be Heaven, because it ain't! And while we are supposed to count our trials as joy, this life is often full of heartache & trial because it's Life-On-Earth.

Jesus' life was full of heartache and pain. His death was the most horrific account of that. Why would any of us expect any less?

And trials are where my faith's rubber meets the road. Stress brings opportunities to cling ever tighter to Jesus. To look to Him for ALL that I need. To learn to trust Him more. To be reminded that this place is not my home.

So I lose my hair right now. Alarmed? Yes, a bit. What woman wants to lose hair at 46? (heck, at 86?) But I am also mindful that each lost strand is a reminder to cast my anxieties on Him; that He knows the numbers of hair on my head and is intimately sovereign over each second of my life; that He loves me and will never leave me; that my pain will not be wasted ~ that it is being used for my good and to press me to be used for the good of others around me.

And as I brush my cheek against the stubble on my first son's, I will choose (over and over) to put him (where he stays, anyway) in God's hands. I will remember that I have no control over anything at all! And I will remember that, even when I have no idea what God is doing, I can always trust that it is good.

And I should rest.

Heaven Comes in Flannel

(Honestly, don't even bother to read this post. It's just for me, one of those "I don't want to forget this, so I'm posting it for my future enjoyment." One of those "momma's memories" things...)

DJ called me in as he was making his bed this morning, big grin on his face.

"Mom, I just... I don't ever... I love these sheets! I could just lay here all day. It's like... it's like laying in Heaven."

(wait for it...)

"Without all those lights."

yep.

Untitled, Because I Just Can't

Happiness is...

*a 3rd grader who regularly coins words. The latest is "furterbed." Obviously (due to its Latin origin), its meaning is "irritated, annoyed." (and just you try not to laugh as that rolls off that tongue)

*a friend who calls, on the phone [remember those? as in, instead of electronically communicating]... just to say, "Hi!" and "I love you!" (Thank you, Jill ~) We are just too busy to ever take the time...

*warm spots found on a sleeping child as you kiss him awake. There's no sweeter kissin' spot than the cheek that was cupped in the still-small hand.

*filling the bird feeders and watching the birds sit a spell.

*a 9th grader who won first place at school (for the whole junior & senior high!) in the costume contest ~ mostly because he made it himself from scratch. And it truly was incredibly cool.

*an 11th grader who returns home with the report that the PSAT was so much easier in reality than all those practice tests!!

*a road trip planned with three of my dearest friends ~ and we're outta here tomorrow! Woo-hoo!!

*hotels with no coffee makers in the rooms (are you kiddin' me??), and no restaurant or continental breakfast set-up (no coffee???)... but there's a Starbucks on the first floor (glory hallelujah).

*a husband who is quick to say, "You need to go! I've got the boys! Take off!"

*the wind, the wind, the wind. Watching the leaves break loose & swirl all over my yard.

*banana-strawberry-blueberry-peach-mango-pineapple smoothies before church. How in the world does anybody ever narrow those fruit choices down?

*Chilean miners pulled from the brink of death. And to be able to watch the grateful thank their Sustainer was one of my day's highlights.

*laughter and light in chocolate almond eyes as the words reach middle ear, travel through nerves, and twist in translation: "You are so smart, Jake. One of the smartest people I know. You are reading so well!"

*first words from a just-awakened child that point to eternity: "Mom (yawn), what would be your best day ever?" "Laying on your bed with you all day." He smiles, then: "Mine would be, you know, God. Just God. And then Heaven would be cool. And then if 10 million aliens were able to blow up Heaven with these awesome bazooka guns and destroy it with a war, well (yawn again)... that would be okay... because there'd still be, you know, God." (whoa... I suddenly realize how boring my random thinking has become ~ and what-the-who was he dreamin'?)

*Caramel Toffee Mochas from Starbucks. VENTI Caramel Toffee Mochas. And a gift card to pay with.

Veggie Tales

DJ had to answer some questions in his reading workbook. Words in pairs, and he needed to describe how the nouns were similiar, and how they were different.

One pair: "ham - vegetables"

Alike how? "they are both foods"

And how are they different? One's a meat, and the other grows as a plant? One is for protein while the other has minerals and vitamins?

"one tastes better"

Typical eight-year-old, not yet fond of those veggies...

I Cannot Keep Up

The moon couldn't be missed tonight. It was too full, too bright, too beautiful. So we went outside, Jake and me, to make ourselves stand still under the declarer of Glory.

"God made that. Did you remember that?"

"Yeah. And God made the stars..."

"Mmm-hmm..."

"And the wood..."

"Yeah..."

"And God's under the ground..."

(huh?) "Do what?"

"God's under the ground!"

(He thinks God is dead? God is in Hell? What in the world have I taught this child?)

"What do you mean, Jake?"

"He's EVERYwhere! So He's under the ground!!" (duh...)

"Um, okay, yeah, if that's where He wants to be..."

"Do God sleep?"

"Oh, no! God NEVER sleeps, remember? Because He's always watching us, taking care of us; He never needs to! Because He's God..."

"Well, He did in that movie!"

(what sorta goofy movie did he see with God asleep in it?)

"That movie where He was in the boat and the storm was coming!"

"oh. well. yeah. I mean, that's cuz He was here as a man, and He needed to sleep then, and..."

"That what I mean!! God had to sleep!" (duh...)

"Yeah, okay. Let's go to bed, Jake."

Heavenly Hash

Kissing the little boys tonight before bed. Jake wanted to snuggle (as usual), and I had to apologize for the umpteenth time in a row: "Sorry, Buddy, not til you're all better! I love you, though!!!!"

Jake has a bad case of pityriasis rosea along with MRSA (yikes!!!) We're keeping Lysol in the black. My hands are raw from washing. And I hatehatehate not snuggling with him.

"Jake, you know we get sick here because of sin, right? Sin is what causes us to get illnesses. In Heaven, no one gets sick!"

"Yeah, and I get a new body!"

"Right!"

"And I come back to life?"

"Right... like, instantly."

"And I walk around down here?"

"Uh, no, you get a new body and then live in Heaven!"

"Oh... what we eat there?"

DJ, always the source of knowledge: "We don't eat in Heaven, Jake, cuz you don't ever get hungry there."

I chimed back in: "Weellll... the Bible does talk about food being there. It's there for some reason."

Jake got a big grin: "I hope God has tuna!"

I am still laughing over that one!

Julian Smith Rules

I love this guy. He is hysterically funny in such a bizarre way. Which, okay, so now you'll think I'm weird.

That's fine.

Big Mac and I LOVE to watch this guy's y-tube channel! We laugh and laugh til we almost... well, you know.

This is my 2nd-favorite video of his. I won't post my very favorite, because it's a bit dark. But you could find this guy and look for one titled "Malk."

And then you'll be entirely convinced that I'm deranged. And that I passed the gene on to Big Mac.

That's fine.




Oh, AND: I want a jellyfish T-shirt. For my birthday or Christmas. Doesn't matter to me!

School Daze

We started school this past week. Tomorrow marks the beginning of week two. And I'm thinking we've fallen way, way behind and may never catch up. Already.

We're at home tonight, having a lazy, restful evening. Decided to look at some PBS. Some documentary was on about rhinos. I figured we should camp out and try to get some educating going while we could.

I don't even know how this came up. I was definitely listening to the narrator but still can't tell you how this subject entered the program.

Something about Marco Polo. Maybe one of the rhinos was written about by Polo on his travels. Don't know. But some man in Sumatra was standing in a field looking at a black rhino when the words "Marco Polo" were spoken.

DJ had the "light-bulb-went-off" look on his face as he exclaimed to me: "Mom, that's him!"

"Who?"

"Him! Marco Polo!"

"Whadda ya' mean?"

"Mar-Co-PO-lo! The guy who invented that game!!"

(ohmyword. seriously?)

"Sweetie, Marco Polo was a real guy from, like, Spain or somewhere who traveled a lot a long time ago. That's why we play that game at the pool."

"Oh..."

I've GOT to focus on history.

We Did the Mash

This is what happens when you're having fun with the kids...

Try JibJab Sendables® eCards today!

Isn't that a hoot? My best friend sent me the same JibJab with her family in it, and we were inspired!

We stayed up way too late to put this together!