To quote my son, "Yes. We play tennis."
Monday, March 12, 2012
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
THE HEART
This is how I make the heart.
This is how my white haired Grandma Wood makes the heart.
She insisted on showing me what I mean to her.
I think hers might be anatomically correct.
Either way, I think we all know this translates into: I'm her favorite.
Friday, March 2, 2012
JAR OF TEARS
Sooooooooooo...guess who just received a check for three cents over a hundred bucks?
And all it took was two and a half years of allowing these annoying, distracting, sometimes completely disgusting ads referencing all manner of inappropriate, to pop-up on her sidebars every time an unsuspecting and innocent blog reader types in Blue and Shoe.
I'm a fortune seeker, friends. Let's just call it what it is.
And fat elbow embrace it...
...And then cash the check and drop the funds in a jar of tears that sits on a table in the church house meant to receive donations for the family of a dear boy...who once came running to our home in the dark evening hours, pounding on the front door and falling into the arms of his best friend—my young son—as the two wept on each other's shoulders because their comrade had just been killed in an accident.
And now, another accident.
One that makes me unable to pull in a full breath. One that makes me stand too long in the shower and presume and anguish over another mother's pain. One that paralyzes an entire community through grief and fear and wondering how can we protect our youth from a very real enemy who does not play fair?
And all I can think is, I would rather pity the mother in the "high risk" category, than be the mother in the "high risk" category. But distressingly, I find myself in both.
He is called, "the destroyer" for a reason. And I will not give him another moment of our time together.
There is another being I would much rather speak of. The Creator. And though I could spend the next two and a half years telling you why you should follow Him, may I simply end this post with the words of Jeffrey R. Holland. A reminder...
"It will be alright in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come."
And I do. And it will.
Until we meet again, dear, sweet Tanner. We will trust God and believe in good things to come.
And all it took was two and a half years of allowing these annoying, distracting, sometimes completely disgusting ads referencing all manner of inappropriate, to pop-up on her sidebars every time an unsuspecting and innocent blog reader types in Blue and Shoe.
I'm a fortune seeker, friends. Let's just call it what it is.
And fat elbow embrace it...
...And then cash the check and drop the funds in a jar of tears that sits on a table in the church house meant to receive donations for the family of a dear boy...who once came running to our home in the dark evening hours, pounding on the front door and falling into the arms of his best friend—my young son—as the two wept on each other's shoulders because their comrade had just been killed in an accident.
And now, another accident.
One that makes me unable to pull in a full breath. One that makes me stand too long in the shower and presume and anguish over another mother's pain. One that paralyzes an entire community through grief and fear and wondering how can we protect our youth from a very real enemy who does not play fair?
And all I can think is, I would rather pity the mother in the "high risk" category, than be the mother in the "high risk" category. But distressingly, I find myself in both.
He is called, "the destroyer" for a reason. And I will not give him another moment of our time together.
There is another being I would much rather speak of. The Creator. And though I could spend the next two and a half years telling you why you should follow Him, may I simply end this post with the words of Jeffrey R. Holland. A reminder...
"It will be alright in the end. Trust God and believe in good things to come."
And I do. And it will.
Until we meet again, dear, sweet Tanner. We will trust God and believe in good things to come.
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