Thursday, November 30, 2006
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Monday, November 27, 2006
When my brother and I were little kids and either of us said "I'm bored" or were somehow driving my mother crazy, she would indicate a bench sitting by the front door of the house and suggest -- "Hey! Why don't you pretend you are waiting for a bus?" So I know I spent a fair amount of my childhood waiting for some existential bus to pull in from the living room. That darn thing was always late.
I am notoriously impatient. I drove my husband up the wall while we were waiting for both our kids' adoption cases to be approved. I am often early to events, because I am both eager and impatient for things to get started. My few attempts at bread baking have failed; I don't allow the dough enough time to rise properly.
We're now in the waiting time of the church year -- Advent. Waiting for Christ to come again; waiting for the bus. I am still learning to enjoy the journey, but right now I am terrible at waiting.
Sunday, November 26, 2006
Grandma died of Alzheimer's disease on February 28, 2006. It has been one of the great heartbreaks of my life -- to watch this vibrant, beautiful woman; an adored wife, mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, counselor, state legislator, lobbyist, national parliamentarian, and card shark extraordinaire -- succumb to this slow, manipulative illness. Last time I saw her, I'm not sure she knew who I was. But she did exult in watching me spoon-feed my then-infant daughter her sweet potato baby food. "Whose pretty baby girl is she?" "She's my baby, Grandma." "Oh..."
A few months ago, my Mom and I were shopping at Macy's. I stopped to smell the sample bottle of Youth Dew perfume from the Estee Lauder counter. Grandma's presence came rushing back to me. Weeks later, alone in the mall, I loaded up on samples of the same perfume and have carried them in my purse ever since. My dad and his siblings declined to have a funeral or memorial service for various, understandable reasons. But I am still sad and a little mad that there was no opportunity for anyone to get up in church to share the story of Grandma skating in the ice show at the rink in the Broadmoor Hotel in Colorado Springs, or the way she lived as a real cowgirl in the Colorado ranch country. She was the queen of malapropisms; stalactites hanging from the ceiling of a western cave became "satellites" and she insisted on calling her favorite discount store "K-marK". She loved Ronald Reagan and read Danielle Steele. She had questions and doubts about her faith until the very end of her life; I admire her willingness to question who and what God meant to her. I have every assurance she has now joined with all the saints of God.
My kids are finally at the age where they are properly entranced by these Christmas tree decorations. My daughter seems especially excited by these special characters. I'm glad she likes them -- they will be hers someday.
Friday, November 24, 2006
I am thinking about doing a sermon series for Advent this year. Any ideas or advice? Please, please, pretty please...?
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
A scary and upsetting thing happened today...
Sigh. I don't know what to say exactly, but these things are sad.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Thanks for finally adding me to your webring!
Dear Administrator of Presbyterian Blogger Webring,
See those two little boxes on the bottom left of my blog? One is for
"RevGalBlogPals". I advertise for them on this site, and in return they list me
as one of the blogs on their site. Nice little mutual arrangement.You are also
one of the little boxes; I am also advertising for you guys. About 10 days ago,
I requested to be added to your list of bloggers. HOWEVER, you have not yet
managed to add me to your webring. I've even emailed you are asked you what the
deal is... totally ignored. If you don't want me on your webring, let me know
and I can delete the advertisement I have for YOU on MY blog.Sheesh, no wonder
our denomination is in decline... Decently and in order, remember?Alex
Sunday, November 19, 2006
All you cool churchy-church types -- here is your chance for a big HaHa. What in the world is the Emerging church? The guy my dh's home church just called as their new pastor is into this, evidently (he has long hair and looks suave on the website). I know it is the big deal in all the blogs and in the Century and Xtianity Today, etc. Que pasa, amigas? I'd love for someone, in the confines of the comments section of this blog, to explain what this all means....
I've been busy raising my kids, serving the church, trying to stay a little sane and the like. So I missed this trend somehow. And with the rate my denomination picks up on fads, I'll probably hear about it from the good ole PCUSA right about the time I start collecting my pension.
Emerging from what? 'Emerging' makes me think of primordial ooze... is that was the church is supposed to be doing these days? Help!
If you are reading this post -- PLEASE post a comment. My webring (http://revgalblogpals.blogspot.com/) is sponsoring a 'delurking' week... so if you are reading this blog or any other blog, please take a moment to quit lurking in the blog shadows and come into the light! Post a little "howdy!" and let me know you are out there.
Have a Happy Thanksgiving! Our local paper took a poll -- 54% of folks are going to spend as much time as possible with family over Thanksgiving, while 46% are going to spend as little time as possible. Are you in the 54% or the 46%???
Jesus doll an insult to his name
Nov. 19, 2006 12:00 AM
The Marine Reserves' "Toys for Tots" program directors were surely wise to be cautious about giving away talking Jesus dolls to children for fear of offending Muslim or Jewish families.
Those who should be most offended by the dolls, however, are Christians. Jesus Christ is not a toy. For two thousand years, Christians have professed that Jesus is lord, that Jesus is of one substance with God the Father, and that Jesus will come "to judge the quick and the dead." How, then, can Christians actually support this inane and offensive doll that does little more than mock the glory of the accepted central figure of our faith? I regret, for Christians' sakes, that the Marine Reserves has reversed its decision about this dolls and now plans to give them as gifts.
- Rev. Brett Hendrickson, Guadalupe The writer is pastor of Guadalupe Presbyterian Church.
Saturday, November 18, 2006
Dear Administrator of Presbyterian Blogger Webring,
See those two little boxes on the bottom left of my blog? One is for "RevGalBlogPals". I advertise for them on this site, and in return they list me as one of the blogs on their site. Nice little mutual arrangement.
You are also one of the little boxes; I am also advertising for you guys. About 10 days ago, I requested to be added to your list of bloggers. HOWEVER, you have not yet managed to add me to your webring. I've even emailed you are asked you what the deal is... totally ignored. If you don't want me on your webring, let me know and I can delete the advertisement I have for YOU on MY blog.
Sheesh, no wonder our denomination is in decline...
Decently and in order, remember?
I am thankful for so many things this year. Here are some of the best:
Friday, November 17, 2006
Wednesday, November 15, 2006
We lived in rural Kentucky for a few years, serving one church in "town" as co-pastors and serving another church as part-time pulpit supply. The second church was the oh-so-aptly named "Pleasant Grove" church. The church at Pleasant Grove was about a 20 minute drive from our home, into the gorgeous bluegrass countryside.
Life was pretty stressful and hard for a number of personal and professional reasons during those years. I read nearly every book the public library owned, and we attended every possible seminar the Presbytery offered. One weekend we were blessed to spend in a small group, working with the sturdy, godly poet Wendell Berry. Between my memories of the drive to Pleasant Grove and my memory of the gentle Kentucky voice of Mr. Berry, I can feel myself growing in the grace I didn't know was being extended during those painful years.
This week's lectionary text from Mark 13 is all about anxiety. I am striving so much to live into the grace of now. Maybe I can work this poem into my sermon somehow.
"The Peace of Wild Things"
When despair for the world grows in me and I wake
in the night at the least sound in fear of what my life and my children's lives
may be, I go and lie down where the wood drake rests in his beauty on the water,
and the great heron feeds. I come into the peace of wild things who do not tax
their lives with forethought of grief. I come into the presence of still
water. And I feel above me the day-blind stars waiting with their light. For a
time I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.
— Wendell Berry
This one would be good for a church book club, women's circle group, or another similar group. It is a quick read and doesn't have any sex or violence. This falls into the category of 'cute' literature. I know many of the women in my church have been reading this and passing a copy of this book around. Enjoy!
Tuesday, November 14, 2006
Want to live to a healthy 85? Stay trim
By LINDSEY TANNER, AP Medical WriterTue Nov 14, 10:06 AM ET
One of the largest, longest studies of aging found one more reason to stay trim and
active: It could greatly raise your odds of living to at least age 85. In
fact, chances of being healthy in old age are better than even for people
who at mid-life have normal blood pressure, good grip strength and several other
physical characteristics associated with being fit and active. These include
normal levels of blood glucose and fats in the blood called triglycerides — both
also associated with avoiding excess calories and eating a diet rich in fruits
Other habits long linked with good health and well-being — avoiding smoking
and excess alcohol, and being married — also improved chances of surviving
well into the 80s. The study involved 5,820 Japanese-American men from the
Hawaiian island of Oahu, who were followed for up to 40 years, but the
researchers said the results likely apply to women and men of other ethnic
heritage, too."There appears to be a lot we can do about modifying our risk
and increasing the odds for aging more healthfully," said lead author Dr.
Bradley Willcox, a scientist at the Pacific Health Research Institute in
Honolulu."It's good news because it really gives you something to zero in on if
we want to be healthy at older age," Willcox said.
The results appear in Wednesday's Journal of the American Medical
Association. The study shows "that you can still live healthy until age 85
if you live right," said Dr. Carl Lavie, medical director of preventive
cardiology at Ochsner Medical Center in New Orleans. Most factors the
researchers identified as contributing to longevity have long been associated
with healthy living but the study does a good job of "putting it together in one
package" and showing the combined benefits, said Lavie, who was not involved
in the research. While Japanese-American men tend to be thinner and
healthier than the general U.S. population, Lavie said it makes sense to
think that the same factors that influence their survival would also affect
The study notes that people aged 85 and older are the fastest-growing age
group in most industrialized countries and are among the largest consumers
of health care resources. Figuring out how to help people remain healthy as
they age is thus a major research priority, the study authors said. It's also a
priority for doctors with middle-aged patients who want to know how to survive
into old age, said Dr. Gary Schaer, a cardiologist at Rush University Medical
Center in Chicago. "This kind of paper directly affects how I take care of
patients," Schaer said. "It's a really important study." Study participants were
in their 50s on average when the research began; 3,369 or 58 percent died before
age 85. Health was evaluated at the start and then at eight follow-up
Eleven percent — 655 men — reached a milestone the researchers dubbed
"exceptional survival." That was reaching age 85 without any mental or
physical impairment, including cancer, heart disease, stroke, lung disease,
Parkinson's disease and diabetes. The men who had none of nine disease risk
factors at mid-life had a nearly 70 percent chance of living to age 85
and a 55 percent chance of reaching the exceptional milestone. By contrast, those with six or more risk factors at mid-life had a 22 percent chance of living to age 85
and a less than 10 percent chance of exceptional survival. The nine mid-life
risk factors were: being overweight, meaning a body-mass index of 25 or more;
having high blood glucose levels, which can lead to diabetes; having high
triglyceride levels, which contribute to heart disease; having high blood
pressure; having low grip strength — unable to squeeze at least 86 pounds of
pressure with a handheld device; smoking; consuming three or more alcoholic
drinks daily; not graduating from high school; and being unmarried. "These risk
factors can be easily measured in a clinical setting and are, for the most
part, modifiable," the researchers said. The study was paid for by grants from
the National Institutes of Health and the Hawaii Community Foundation.
On the Net:
Monday, November 13, 2006
Today Nov 13
Tue Nov 14
Wed Nov 15
Thu Nov 16
Fri Nov 17
Sat Nov 18
Sun Nov 19
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Tue Nov 21
Wed Nov 22
Saturday, November 11, 2006
My husband's stepfather sent our kids t-shirts that say "Future President" on them. They are cute shirts, but we figure our family members don't realize that our kids can never be President under current US laws. Since our kids were born in Guatemala, they don't qualify to run for President. They are US citizens now, by virtue of their adoptions, but these little reminders still sneak up on us sometimes. Oh well -- would I actually want one of them to be President? Nah...
BTW, Thomas is a pretty handsome kid, don't you think?
Friday, November 10, 2006
As an adoptive mother & a pastor, I think it is very important to consider the theological implications of adoption. This article is a great starting point for Reformed Christians to begin thinking about adoption. The author has since published book titled "The Spirit of Adoption: At Home in God's Family", which is also excellent and expands on the themes of this article.
"The Practice and Theology of Adoption"
by Jeanne Stevenson-Moessner (associate professor at Dubuque Theological Seminary; she is currently a Henry Luce III Fellow in Theology)
This article was originally published in The Christian Century, January 24, 2001, p.10-13. Copyright by The Christian Century Foundation; used by permission. Current articles and subscription information can be found at www.christiancentury.org.
Father Ron meant well. He would never have intentionally excluded some children from his sermon. It was Wednesday mass, and the congregation was primarily children -- kindergartners through eighth-graders -- with a sprinkling of teachers, administrators and parents. The text was Colossians 1:15:
Christ is "the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation."
Father Ron developed his theme: Children look like their parents; Jesus as God’s Son reveals what God is like. He gave examples, picking out children: "You look just like your mother. You have her eyes, her nose, her dimple." Or: "You are an athlete just like your Uncle Sam. You have his genes." The point was profoundly simple: We know what God is like by looking at Jesus.
The comparison was not lost on the two third-grade girls seated directly in front of me. Both were dark-skinned, one from India and one from Southeast Asia. Both had Caucasian parents. The more passionately Father Ron spoke, the more pointedly one of the adopted girls shook her head in rhythm with his preaching.
Two-thirds of the way through his sermon, Father Ron realized his miscalculation. Perhaps he remembered that the school had a number of adopted children. He then acknowledged that there were those in the church who were adopted into families, and he asked them to raise their hands. Now the children were confronted with a choice: either hide their identity from the Catholic priest, or reveal an aspect of themselves that some children consider personal or private. Hands went up at half-mast.
Having witnessed this scene, I can well believe German sociologist Christine Swientek’s account of another well-intentioned pastor’s ineptness. At confirmation class, this pastor spoke about being "children of God" and looked for an example to illustrate this special relationship between father and children. He focused on a boy named Hannes, and said in front of 35 snickering and giggling adolescents: "You should try to imagine what it is like to be Hannes at home -- his parents are not his birth parents. Hannes’s parents are his adoptive parents who took him and raised him. They do not love him any less."
Hannes was dumbfounded. He did not have the slightest idea that he was adopted. He stood up, went outside, and then ran away. He was first found three months later in juvenile detention for stealing food from a supermarket.
These stories indicate how the church has failed to be sensitive to the reality of adoption and failed to recognize adoption is a paradigm for the church -- a "family of faith" made up of people who are not biologically related. (H. David Kirk in Adoptive Kinship has gone further to suggest that the adoptive family could be "the compass" for the mainstream family.)
When Father Ron thought of "family," he thought only of the biological family unwittingly relegating other kinds of families to a second-class status. The church has often followed society in idealizing and even idolizing the genetically linked family. The scriptures themselves bear evidence of a male preoccupation with his blood lineage.
There is another image of inclusion in the Bible: the image of adoption. The invitation and inclusion of gentiles into the family of God occurs by adoption through Christ, the firstborn. Yet many communities of faith exhibit an unconscious aversion and defensive reaction to the notion of adoption. Adoption is unconsciously seen as an aberration from the norm of the biological family.
Adoption is sometimes considered a joke. Kenneth Kaye remembers that he and his cousins "would tease the younger ones by pretending to let slip the fact they were adopted. In reality, no one was; it was simply a way of saying, ‘You’re different; you’ll never fit in.’ We inherited the joke from our mothers, who have been recycling it on their baby sister for nearly 60 years."
One adopted boy reported being taunted at school that he didn’t know who his father [that is, his birth father] was. Another adopted child felt treated differently by her teacher; the teacher made comments like: "You think because you’ve gone through one experience in your life [the adoption], you’ve paid all your dues."
An adoptive mother reported this incident in a grocery store: another shopper came up to her and her adopted son, who was two or three, and said, "He’s not your child. He must be adopted."
Because of such insensitivity, Christian parents often hide from their children the fact that their children are adopted. They dread the moment of telling. They know that peers of adopted children may taunt them or pity them. Adopted children can feel that their existence is a "mistake." (For example, referring to a birth mother, one parishioner remarked: "She really is a good girl. She just made a mistake.") Voices lower with the words, "She’s adopted."
In both subtle and dramatic ways, North American culture has often positioned adopted children on the margins of society. The church has followed uncritically.
Adoption in the New Testament is the central biblical image for entrance into the family of faith. The crucial passages are Galatians 4:5; Romans 8:15, 23; 9:4; and Ephesians 1:5. (At least three Old Testament texts -- Genesis 48:5-6, Exodus 2:10 and Esther 2:7,15 -- also make adoption a central activity.) From a New Testament perspective, adoption is the paradigm for all who come into the family of Christ through God’s adoption. This perspective has ramifications for the counseling ministry of the church, for sermons and Christian education and for the life of Christians in communities of faith.
Adoption is a complex phenomenon, especially when the theological dimension is added. Adoption involves the deep-seated dimensions of grief, guilt and gift.
Many social workers, therapists and writers emphasize the elements of grief and guilt common to birth parents, adoptees and adoptive parents. Most recently, Nancy Verrier in The Primal Wound and Ronald J. Nydam in Adoptees Come of Age have argued that an adopted child never fully recovers from the fact that he or she was relinquished by birth parent(s). But these writers have not given equal weight to the reality of "gift." From a theological standpoint, it is the pervasive sense of gift which permeates both grief and guilt and opens the triad of grief, guilt, gift to a glimpse of the womb-love of God.
What is parenting? What is the ultimate significance of the nuclear or biological family, the family of origin? What is the role of the family of faith? These questions are stimulating ones for Christian education classes and for sermons.
Polly and her husband, Bob, live out one answer to these questions. Polly, 28, is a Presbyterian minister; Bob, 29, is in business. While Polly was in seminary, she and her husband were watching a Wendy’s commercial in which the founder, Dave Thomas, mentioned his adoption. Bob asked Polly if she was interested in adopting. "We knew God had laid it on our hearts very early on. . . . We had that calling upon our hearts, we never felt a need to have biological children," Polly said.
First, Polly and Bob served as foster parents through the Department of Human Services in their state. Then, they chose to seek out "unadoptable children -- children with special needs, older children or sibling groups. "We felt God was leading us to more permanent commitments with children . . . You know, there are over a 100 children per day waiting in [our] state to be adopted."
At the time of the interview, Polly and Bob had three adopted daughters, ages 20, 14 and 15. They had two "pre-adopted" children, ages four and ten, already in their home, waiting for the six months to pass before legal adoption could occur. Polly concluded: "Without God’s help there’s not a day when we could be parents of the children God has blessed us with. . . . Every decision we make around children, we hold up to God."
Another story: Sam’s wife, Peggy, tried for years to become pregnant. After infertility workups which Sam called "agonizing" and "humiliating," they decided to adopt a child from another country.
Sam and Peggy stayed in Peru for ten weeks, a period they describe as emotionally chaotic. Their story involves delay after delay, complications with exit visas and birth certificates, additional expenses, closed doors. Pushing past Peruvian guards to knock on closed embassy offices, Sam recalled the story in the New Testament of a persistent woman going before a judge. He pleaded and begged. During the waiting in Peru, Sam experienced in a profound way a reality he had often preached about: reliance on the sovereignty of God.
When Sam and Peggy at last had an adopted son, the moment of the child’s baptism arrived. As part of the service, the parents were asked to affirm that the child was not theirs but God’s. After all that he had been through, Sam wanted to shout: "This kid is mine." At the same time, said Sam, "It was the most freeing experience I’ve ever had to realize there’s a God that doesn’t desire for this little kid’s hairs to be harmed, whose arms are so much sturdier than [my] shaky arms." Adoptive parents have a keen awareness that children belong to God, not to their parents.
Sam later preached a sermon titled "Is There Life After Barrenness?" He concluded: "I have come to think . . . that it is from the barren places of our lives that we hear God most clearly."
A "homecoming" through adoption of a longed-for child is parabolic of God’s welcome. It is a glimpse of God’s embrace, of God’s hospitality, of God’s trembling womb (Is. 63:15-16).
Womb-love (rahum) is synonymous in the Old Testament with the mercy and compassion of God, according to scholar Phyllis Trible. Womb-love as expressed by God is not biologically based. Womb-love, that yearning from the very center of being, describes the tenacious compassion in God’s desire and mercy. That yearning is there in Mary, the mother of Jesus, when she searches for her lost 12-year-old, and it is there when her heart is pierced at the foot of the cross. It is there with the widow of Nain pleading for her child. It is there as King David weeps for his son Absalom.
To adopt a child is to experience some of the vulnerability and woundedness of God. Bryn Kreidel, an adoptive mother in Memphis, wrote this prayer before receiving a baby. She expresses a womb-love that reflects the womb-love of God.
Then I remember that you [God] wait and wonder . . . Longing for your adopted children to be in your arms . . . Gazing into your eyes, hearing your love songs. . .
Suddenly, I know how you feel, God. . . That constriction of the heart that causes pain to the depths of the soul. And I know that my pain is more godly than anything in my life has ever been. For once, my heart is like your heart.
And this holy pain leads me to my knees. . . To thank you for the wait . . . And to pray for all the babies that need to come home. . .Yours and mine.
When Christians move adoption from the periphery to the center of theological reflection , teaching and counseling, they will lessen the degree to which adopted children are assigned a second-class status in secular society. The ministry of the church will become more inclusive as adoptive families are understood and fully incorporated and as the worshiping community realizes its own adoption. For the family of faith, adoption is the norm, not an aberration.
When adoptive parents recount their emotions, their struggles, their worries and their faith, the clear theme emerges of receiving a child as a gift from God. Whereas the biological connection identifies birth parents as the agents of creating, or those sowing the seed, the adoptive connection is dependent on external agency. There is a higher source than flesh and natural conception.
Walter Wangerin Jr. tells of the summer that his daughter Talitha asked to find her birth parents. She had just finished her freshman year at college and was beginning a search for identity. Wangerin writes of his sense of invisibility in the process, until he started to identify himself with Joseph, the adoptive father of Jesus.
Training up the child of one’s own loins has a deep spiritual and genetic appropriateness. One doesn’t question one’s right and the instinctive rightness of one’s methods. Communication is as deep as the chromosomes. [My wife] Thanne and I have raised children born to us as well as children adopted, and we’ve experienced the difference. In order to train up the adopted child, one must also learn her language, since communication begins at the surface of things. One must never assume a complete knowledge of this child except as watchfulness and love reveal her. And very early the adoptive parent realizes that the methods of training this child must obey a greater source than flesh and natural conception. (Christianity Today, December 11, 1995).
Statistics show that adopted children face special challenges. Many deal with concern over abandonment, and they face crises over identity and intimacy. Adopted children have an above-average rate of seeking therapy. Four to 5 percent of adopted children are referred to outpatient mental health facilities. Ten to 15 percent are referred to residential care facilities. Adopted children have higher rates of delinquent behavior, learning disorders, and attention-deficit hyperactivity disorder than their non-adopted peers. Drug abuse is prevalent. (See The Psychology of Adoption, Oxford University Press.)
Adoptive parents usually know these realities. Thus, for adopting parents, the joy of receiving a child into the home is a preamble to facing the crises of child development. These challenges, along with the stigma attached to adoptive parenting, are all occasions to look more deeply into the heart of God, the One who embraces our pain as well as our joy. God’s tenacious compassion, God’s womb-love, in the face of human waywardness and suffering, offers a theological foundation from which to draw in the crises of adoption.
In the Nativity scene, the adoptive father Joseph and the biological mother Mary represent all humankind. God is at work as creator and as adopting parent. And, of course, God is the child, who will later be abandoned on the cross. The emotions and experiences of birth mother, adoptive parent, and child are all embraced by God.
An adoptive mother named Linda discovered this embrace of God as she struggled to care for her son. He had been diagnosed with attention deficit and hyperactivity disorder. He was so impetuous in his actions that his mother feared for his safety. After he turned ten he became defiant toward anyone in authority. Eventually he was hospitalized. When the hospital staff said they couldn’t handle him, Linda and her husband offered to help out.
I learned how to monitor his behavior hourly. I took him his food on a tray and slid it across the threshold of his solitary-confinement room. I did the same with his schoolwork. It was on one of those occasions, when I was crawling on the rug to slide over his lunch, while crouched on the floor, that I glimpsed the heart of God. I say "glimpsed" because I do not mean to be presumptuous or imply full knowledge. I was swept up by a godly passion that enveloped me, too. In the early months of adoption when our son was an infant, I thought I knew what the love of a parent was. In the giddy joy of receiving a baby, in the flood of well-wishers bearing precious gifts, I thought I knew love. However, crawling on the floor of the child psychiatric unit toward my son in confinement, I was carried into the womb of God, into womb-love, God’s compassion, a love that will not let me go, nor my son. In God’s womb-love, I, too, am adopted.
I spent last week at an Interim Pastor training conference in St. Louis. Listening to other pastors talk for a week straight is beyond exhausting. On the way home, in the airport and on the plane, I had the chance to relax and enjoy reading something just for fun! Amy Tan's Saving Fish From Drowning turned out to be the perect "on the plane" book. I don't think it is her strongest novel (I LOVED The Joy Luck Club), but the characters are well-drawn and you care what happens to them.
A charming, delightful and intelligent woman in the church I am currently serving has decades of experience working with the native peoples of Burma (now called Myanmar), which is where this novel takes place. I appreciated the excellent historical and political information Tan provides in this book. This is great bathtub/holiday/airplane/beach read!
Lily received this play kitchen for her birthday. Nana and Bumpa (my folks) bought her all the cool play dishes, pots & pans, and plastic food to go along with it. Lily is truly my daughter -- she has been playing 'kitchen' for the past 48 hours.
I had a similar kitchen when I was her age and loved it for years. I remember the metal dishes I used (they had images of Beagles on them) and spent hours in my backyard playhouse, playing make believe.
Reflecting back on the passion I felt for my play kitchen, it is a little odd that I don't particularly like to cook or bake as an adult. But I realized this morning that those childhood fantasies were not about becoming a great cook when I grew up... they were all about MARRYING a great cook when I grew up! Don't you love it when wishes come true?!
Thursday, November 09, 2006
...is not much of a baby anymore! Our little Lily turned two yesterday. I can't believe my baby is growing up so quickly. She talks non-stop these days. Because she is two, I think her most common command is, "Help me! Help me!", when she is frustrated with some toy, or she can't get her shoes off. We sure are having fun with our two kids...
It's been almost three months since I pretended to start a blog, but I saw a video today that inspired me to try again. Check out this family's story -- it will be a seven minutes well-spent, I promise.