It's a marathon, folks

Things have been whirling along a break-neck speed ever since Aleni was born. And really, it's mostly none of her fault, since she is about the easiest baby in the world.

Most days, I stumble off to bed feeling tired to the bone, yet having finished nothing. It seems that the to-do list only gets longer and the minutes get shorter. That the harder we run, the less we accomplish.

I have heard myself whispering (if only to myself) "Once things slow down...." Telling myself this is a soon-ending state of affairs. Somewhat like the mental difference of running a marathon and sprinting 200 meters. One you dig deep and settle into a steady pace that you can hold for a loooong time... and the other you suck in a deep gulp of air and go for it.

Today, I was showering and thinking, "Once things slow down a little--" and then I stopped. An image flashed into my mind of a person I know that often heaves a heavy-hearted and suffering sigh as they mouthed those same words. Over days, months, and years. A lifetime, really. Of not enjoying the present--of looking ever-longingly into a future that never came.

It then hit me: This is the new normal. This is my pace, my stride, my race. I need to wrap my mind around that, get into a rhthym I can sustain for however long it takes--and figure out how to thrive in it.

Now to find that rhthym.

Faddish

I know it may be somewhat of a craze or a fad at this point... but all this talk about "going green", eating as close to the source as possible, taking care of the planet (you know what I'm talking about) has been seeping in to my consciousness, and I've begun to try to make small changes.

I'm not one to jump into thing that seem to be the "in" thing at the moment. I usually try to sidle in sideways while looking another direction, hoping no one notices. I hate being accused of copying. Originality at all costs.

I also lack the concentration and discipline (and perhaps time!) to become an extremist at anything. Mostly, I try to do what I can and don't stress about it. Or, often I just forget!

However, here in Mexico, I think I may be a little easier to become a "conservationalist" to some extent. Man, they are not into throwing things away and they know how to re-use a thing all the way to its death bed. At first, I may have been seen rolling my eyes at what I perceived to be "hoarding". "Get rid of the junk, people!" I might have said once or twice.

And it might be hoarding for some, for others it is seeing potential in something we might just see as garbage.

So, I am trying more.

For example, we have some faucets that are "drippers". I used to just crank them as tight as I could and dismiss it to Rey's to-do list. Now, I keep bowls below the faucets and the water is used to water my flowers, wash the dishes or fill the bath tub. I've also started giving Noah baths in our baby tub as opposed to our humongous bathtub. A lot less water used there. Ah, and bath water then becomes mop water. I haven't thought of a way to re-use the black mop water. It goes down the toilet.

Another small thing I have started doing is saving plastic food containers. I never liked how it looked to have yogurt and margarine containers mixed in with my Tupperware... but, hey! It's functional. And since dishes hardly ever come back when you send food to people, I can use those and not feel even a twinge of annoyance at the thought of never laying my eyes on them again.

There's all kinds of other stuff I think about doing: making/freezing baby food, learning how to can, making laundry soap. I usually think about it, and then get discouraged in thinking about the time and MESS (noooo mooooore messes please!!) it would involve. So, those are still just in the thought stage now.

I have started "making" my own beans, now. As opposed to buying cans. I don't know if it is the altitude/dryness here, but wowsers those things have to boil forever. Like 5 hours. So then I am tabulating if the cost of gas is coming out to be the same as the cost of the can? Anyone else have this problem? It is also true with cooking rice-- here I have to use 3 times the amount of water as rice... as opposed to 2. I digress...

Well, tell me what kind of planet/health-friendly things you are doing these days. Keep in mind I can't commit to something that takes a lot of time at this point. Simple ideas would be highly appreciated!!! :)

Thanks for the Reminder

This morning, Rey, Noah and I went down to the cafeteria area on the floor below ours to have coffee with a group of Americans that was leaving at noon. Our pleasantries were interrupted by the arrival of a fellow missionary and the adult daughter of our downstairs neighbors. I will call her Mariela. As I greeted Mariela, I asked her how she was--noting it seemed she'd been crying and that there were dark circles under her eyes. She said she was good.

She asked if she could say something to the group. Now, this group has been coming down and supporting many works here in Fresnillo for over 10 years, so she has known them for awhile--if only from afar. Weeping, she first thanked the group for their faithful love and support, and then began to share of the deep hurt and pain she was feeling. Her father has been in ministry all her life, and she shared how her and her sister never felt like he had time for them. That they were always last on his list, never remembered. She said that they felt damaged, heart-broken and hurt. Mariela said just yesterday, her dad had told her he was sick of ministry and was just going to get out of it for good.

"If that is true, what value was all this??" she cried to us, "What did it matter all we suffered?"

As she poured out her heart to us, tears were also pouring down my own cheeks. You see, before deciding to go into ministry full-time, Rey and I agreed on one thing: Family before ministry. We can make all kinds of mistaken decisions, pour our time into wrong places--but what we invest in our children will never be in vain.

We all prayed over Mariela, asking God to pour out His healing love in her heart and lift her up. I prayed these things, and I also prayed that not one of my children would find themselves in her position 10, 15, 20 years from now.

Family is our ministry.

Fast, then Faster

"In the middle of the night,
Miss Clavel turned on her light
And said, 'Something is not right!'
And afraid of disaster
Miss Clavel ran fast
And even faster."
--From Madeline by L. Bemelmans

These lines have been rattling through my brain the last couple days, ya wanna know why?

He is three foot tall, has the cutest dimples you'll ever see and answers to the name of Noah.

Gracious, he has had my hair standing on end.

Like this one:

We have a balcony outside our front door here on the 3rd floor. There happen to be 3 stair wells, 2 near our front door, and one at the far end of the hall. Rey put up doors on the stairs close to our door, but Noah never was interested in going down to the other end, so Rey left that one uncovered (That, and other projects caused it to never get a door). Well, that stair well goes up to the "still-under-construction" part of the building--the roof/5th floor.

This fine day, Noah and I had been playing in his room. I went to get a movie out of the closet to put on for him and he came pattering after me. He didn't see me, and went on by. I put the movie in, expecting him to start calling for me. He didn't, so I went to check on Aleni.

Then, I heard rocks being thrown. Now, there are blocks on the "safe roof/patio" above us that he likes to play with, so I went up to see how he was. He wasn't there, but I continued to hear the thumping noise. So, I ran back down into the apartment and re-checked his room. No, and thud, thud. My room, the closets, Aleni's room, the bathroom. No. Where....?? Then my heart stopped--did he go up that other stairs?? I ran fast, and then faster, up to the 4th floor. Didn't see him, but the thuds were louder. Up to the fifth floor/roof. And there stood my little prince, grabbing broken pieces of bricks and blocks, hurling them, and watching them fall the 5 floors to the ground below.

This floor, as I said, is being constructed. So it is that--a floor. No walls. Noah was literally standing with his toes on the edge of this storey looking down, down, down to the cement patio below. My heart turned to stone and my hands tingled with fear. I calmly said, "Hey, little man, having fun?" not wanting to startle him as I slowly moved towards him. Ah, the relief of swooping him up in my arms and rushing him back down to our apartment.

Thank You, Lord for being with our children when we aren't.

Or this:

Yesterday, I made some oatmeal cookies. Noah had one when he woke up from his nap. He really liked it, and a while later came over a grabbed one off of my friend's plate. "No, Noah," I said, "I want you to eat supper before you have any more cookies." He already had a bite in his mouth, a opened his mouth to let out a scream of anger at not getting what he wanted. In so doing, he inhaled the bit of cookie he had there.

He started coughing. I had Aleni in one arm, so I lifted his arm to help him pass the bite. He kept coughing and gagging. He has a tendency to overreact when he coughs, so I was just saying, "It's ok, you can do it". Suddenly, his face turned completely purple. And at that, I lost all feeling in my body. I rushed to lay Aleni on the couch and kneeled beside Noah, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He was beginning to go limp as his blue lips kept moving with his effort to cough and tears streaked down his face. The only thing I could think to do was to check his throat to see if I could feel the blockage. The little chunk of cookie was there, wedged at the entrance to his throat. It probably wasn't the right thing to do (the Heimlich maneuver did not even enter my mind), but I wiggled my finger around the piece to dislodge it. The house around me melted away as every sense funneled into my little boy. Come on, come on.... and it was out. And Noah was gasping, and coughing and crying. And his face was becoming white, and then pink. And we snuggled on the couch together with Blankey.

Thank You, Lord, for saving my baby's life--even if I do all the wrong things.

So, these things may help you understand why this cool morning found me leaping from the shower as it was still running, my face white with Noxema, and streaking up to the roof patio with a towel wrapped around me. I had heard a nearby scream from Noah (which he does a lot when he is imitating someone on a movie), but I didn't hear anything else, so I kept sudsing. Then, I heard what sounded like a call from help--but far away.

No! Don't tell me--he's outside in trouble?? I ran out of the bathroom. "Noah??" And I heard a replying noise, but it sounded muffled. The front door was shut... had he gotten stuck somewhere on the patio? So, I cast an eye at his empty bedroom and then shot up the stairs and outside (thank goodness the neighbor was gone). No Noah up there. Back down the stairs. "Noah, Noah???" No answer. Still not in his room, or any rooms. Start checking the closets. Opened his closet, and 2 brown eyes looked calmly up at me as chubby little hands held the blanket up to his cheek. He stepped around me dismissively, and sat down to play with his cars. "Your welcome..." I called out to his back.

Thank You, Lord, for protecting my babies even when they're not in danger.

Hats off to you, Miss Clavel. I don't know how you did it.

Fancy Feathers

Heard whistling from the street below, so I stuck my head out of our 3rd floor window to look down. Saw the coolest thing: Two guys walking. Each of them had strapped onto their backs these leaning towers of at least 10 bird cages--full of an exquisitely colored bunch of birds! They each carried a stick in their hands upon which were sitting these bright green parrots.

They walked, the towers swayed along with their movement. The parrots danced, scurried and played on their perches. They whistled and the birds chirped back. And I watched until they were long gone.

I think that is what Rey and I will do when we are big.

Attitude DOES Matter

On Saturday night, me and my man watched the movie, Faith like Potatoes. As a good friend said, it can be hard to find a Christian film that doesn't leave one rolling her eyes at how unrealistic the "spiritual convos" are and at how bad the acting is. But, I've gotta say, this movie really touched me, and has me thinking still.

It is a story based on the life of a Scottish farmer who happens to be farming in Africa. At the beginning, he does not have a relationship with Jesus, and later on--he does. This movie made me laugh and cry and it inspired me. Why? Because the man character really believes in a thing called "relationship with God". With communing with Him, wherever you might be. With really listening for specific directions from Him, and then following those directions whole-heartedly, even if everyone around you counsels against it.

This man had faith, big faith. And it was joyful faith. His life was an adventure--with very real lows and agonies--but an adventure nonetheless. A kind of living where "anything is possible".

It made me realize how lately my faith-attitude has not been one of "adventure". It had been more in the suffering, tenacious hold-- "One of these days, everything will be ok."

We (the Sánchez family) are on a faith adventure. We have followed God's voice here to central Mexico--without Bible School, without full funding, without even a house that we can really call "ours". And, God has been more than faithful to us.

I was noting all these things, but not joyfully. More like trying to stuff feelings of "How can we better this situation?"

After watching this movie, I realized what a shame it was that I had sunk to this position. I consciously decided to joy in the situation I am in. To be excited and expectant to see how God is going to pour out His blessings on us--rather than seeing if I've checked out "all available options".

And let me tell you, since that day of a subtle-yet-huge shift of focus and attitude, God has provided in huge and wonderful ways. A couple people have written, saying they would be giving us one-time gifts. A large check that it seemed the bank had lost weeks ago just came up "found" (I mean--does that happen??).

I am just rejoicing in what God can do, and does. I am excited to be in the story He is writing and just waiting to see what He is going to surprise us with next!

Saturday Excitement

Well, for those of you who don't know... I worked at a landscaping company for 7 years, so the fact that I haven't had the chance to grow flowers since I've been married has been excruciating. Especially now that we live in a great climate for growing. And... flowers are so stinking cheap here!

So, yesterday was an amazing day in this writer's life. We went flower shopping! Just got a few...enough to whet my appetite and get me dreaming about our next flower trip.

As I mentioned, we don't have a camera, but Google has some uncannily similar images of what I now have on my front balcony, so take a peak at the yummyness--and freak out with me over the prices! (And for those asking: they were the "1 gallon size")

Got one of these ($2):

Two of these ($1 each)

One of these ($1)

Two of these ($1 each)

One of these ($2):

An Ode.

You know--there are sisters. And then there are sisters. Like there are women. And there are ladies. One is so merely by genetic happenstance, and the other is by choice. And that choice makes them sweeter, richer, and oh, so wonderful.

My thoughts have been with my sister these days. Rach has been my sister ever since I can remember... haha. She was born 3 years before me, thereby gaining the title of "older sister" and becoming a wealth of "been there" knowledge for this little sister.

Growing up, we were not without our "typical" older-younger squabbles, but this sisterhood has turned into something precious and without equal.

Rachel is my closest friend. The one I can tell the most intimate, grossest things to (heck, she already has seen me at my worst) and that I save up my best stories for.

She is my biggest defender, ally and encourager. She is also the voice of honesty in a world that often shies away from the idea.

No one can reduce me to "ugly laughing" like she can (see?? Oh, my...this is almost too scary to post...), nor can relate so closely to my struggles.

Though we are virtual opposites, and this difference made it hard for us to understand each other as young things--these differing views have helped make our lives deeper and more joyful.

I wouldn't trade her for anything.

Love ya, sister!! And miss you like crazy...

Popularity

(How it was supposed to look....)

So, Rey is gone on a day-long trip to one of the communities.

It's ok. It happens about twice a week. I am getting the hang of juggling the kids schedules, housework and cooking in a relatively peaceful manner.

Today, I decided to be "Miss (or perhaps, "Mrs." to you) Adventurous" and take the kiddos to the park. Rey had left the van, so it suddenly became a much more viable option. (Thinking I had to walk, I was trying to decide if I'd put Aleni in the front pack and Noah in the stroller until we got to the park... or put Aleni in the stroller and let Noah walk too???)

As we left, I shut Canela in the house and trucked the babes down the 3 flights of stairs and got them loaded into the van. At this point, Canela is howling her head off. I mean, really howling. Thinking it would probably get old for our downstairs neighbors, I decided to take her, too.

I now graduated from Miss Adventurous to Miss Super Duper Adventurous. Grabbed Canela's leash and ran her down the 3 flights of stairs, loaded her into the back of the van and off we went.

Sooo... the park has 2 entrances. The main one, which is really busy and has no shade, or the back entrance which is quieter and very shady. We went to the back entrance. The only bad part about the back entrance, is the 20 feet leading up to it is paved in about 2 inches of sand and littered with several big rocks. Have you ever tried pushing a stroller through 2 inches of sand?

I got Noah out. Got the stoller out. Pulled the dog out from under the seat and tied her leash to the stroller. Put Aleni in the stroller. And we were off! A picture of serenity, Noah helping me push the stroller. There is a crowd of about 20 park-cleaner-upper people standing/lounging around in the shade outside the park entrance. They boredly watch the "got-it-together-gringa-mama" do the seemingly impossible....

I notice that the sand is seeming reeeeeaaalllllyyy hard to push through today, and look down to see Canela is pulling backwards on her leash as hard as she can. All of the skin off her neck has piled up into rolls over her eyes and she is doing her utmost to stop the procession. Ahh, great. Forgot the dog is anti-social. Well, ni modo, gotta get in that park.

I keep pushing, she keeps pulling and progress in slow. Then, one person notices, "Ehhh! Mira el perrito!!" one shouts. "It's a perritAAAA" I think huffily to myself. The whole group starts gesturing and giggling. "Ha ha!! Look at it! You don't have it trained, huh?? Ha ha." I smile feebly and keep desperately pushing. Everyone keeps laughing and shouting out observations and advice.

I end up picking up Canela and putting her in the stroller basket, since she was just being dragged along. To increase the comic element, Canela jumped right out and the crowd roared. I should have charged for this great entertainment.

A lady came up behind us with her rake and tried to encourage Canela along. "Come on, little dog. Walk!"

But, she didn't, until we got through the entrance and she couldn't see the people anywhere. Then she trotted alongside, just as "trained" as could be.

Sigh.

At least the park staff will have something to talk about over lunch today.

Differences

Two things that are always hard to adjust to in Mexico--US.

1.) The Toilet Paper Issue.
When I get to the US, I am usually looking for the trash can... and then remembering that I can just flush it. In Mexico, it takes a couple days to "go back to the right way".

2.) Carpet or The Shoe Removal Issue.
I forget how almost all US houses have carpet. Therefore, mostly people pad around in socks or barefoot. I forget that walking around barefoot on my tile floors in dusty Fresnillo usually leaves me depressed at how quickly my feet turn black.

New Year's.... wishes??

A report on how it's going with this year's New Year's resolutions.

Hmmm..... A note to those wanting to keep resolutions. Don't have a baby on the 10th day of a New Year or spend the last weeks of the first month running around getting paperwork for same baby or leave for 3 months roaming through the US and Mexico at the end of the 2nd month of said year... if you want to keep your resolutions.

So what does that sound like? A wopping excuse. An "it's not really my fault that I haven't kept my resolutions"??

Exactly.

And it sure feels good to be back here, trying to make them happen again.

Here's to a more successful 6 months....

Family Defined

Our trip through the US these last couple months have given me many things on which to reflect. We met so many people who gave us so many new insights, new experiences and new friendships.

One of the things that seemed to be wherever we went was this idea of family. What really makes a family? Should you only call people who are related to you by blood "aunt", "grandpa" or "sis"? Or are we all related anyways--thanks to Adam...and to Jesus for making us one in Him?

Since I was a teenager I have longed to adopt. I've always seen myself with a large (reasonably large, I should say) ;) diverse family. A family connected by love and diverse in background and ability... but united by the knowledge that they all belonged to each other.

I have come to understand that adoption is not as "beautiful" in Mexico as it is in the US. That is to say, the cultural viewing here seems to be more like, "You adopt when you need an extra servant around the house." Or that the adopted child is inherantly less than the other family members. When I'd try to bring up the adoption issue to Rey, he just couldn't picture it. "I don't want the child to feel less loved, and I don't know if I honestly would love another child as my own."

Rather than loftily telling Rey how "unspiritual" he was, I applauded his honesty and just decided it would have to be something God showed him--and perhaps it wasn't even in God's plan for me. Maybe it was just in my plan for me, which would have desastrous results anyway if I proceeded.

On this trip, I don't know how many families we have interacted with that had either adopted members or member who were just "understood" to be family--even some movies we happened to see on the trip spoke to this issue. One large family in particular had such a diverse makeup that we immediatly were swept into their family. We were made to feel special and loved from the moment we walked in their doors. I truly believe it is because of the unconditional and unqualified love modeled by the parents, that the children then showed that same love to anyone.

That is what I imagined in my mind when I imagined a family made up of not just "blood-children", and I am so grateful that Rey was able to see these beautiful examples of God's love. How God has called us to love all and how God has brought us into His own family regardless of our race, gender or status. How can we not but do the same??

I am not saying we have a direction we are taking at this point. But, I can see that God is opening hearts, and perhaps putting us on a path towards an end I desire.

Here's the truth of the matter...

I'll save you some time. And some money.

It's just that I've stumbled upon that ONE THING that will make you have an awesome marriage. Like a happy, healthy one.

Here goes:

"The key to having a happy, healthy marriage generally just

boils down to me acting like an adult."

Funny how that is.

Remembering to revel...

Recently, I've realized that I really enjoy being stinky and covered in any combination of slobber, spit-up, snot and tears. Deep down inside.

Ya know why?

Because those are the little badges of mommyhood given to me by my very own munchkins, and even if some days I moan when I see a mirror, I am coming to see that this has it's own very special beauty.

I am so glad I have babies.

Babies keep me humble. Nothing like a temper tantrum in the middle of the store or a baby out of his/her comfort zone to make you think twice before you judge another momma.

Babies keep me accessible. It is incredible how toting a baby on your hip automatically makes people feel they can talk to you more easily. And how it makes ME want to talk to THEM. (What?? An ADULT???)

Babies keep me young. When else could I have a legitimate excuse to clamber through the McDonald's playland or gyrate to a kid's music video? I ask you.

Babies keep me smiling. How can I not? When I look at those big beautiful eye framed by awesomely long lashes. When a roly-poly doll-baby beams her face-splitting grin up at me. When he does something mischievously goofy just to see me smile... how can I not?

Babies keep me full of awe. Really? Truly? All of this personality... beauty... life... come from my own body? This little tyke is the same little 8 pounder that keep me up nights??

Babies teach me what love is. They teach me what it is to dream big for little lives. They teach me that I want to live a better life, so they can have a better example. They teach me to reach out in empathy-- to cry with others, laugh with others.

I can truly say babies are a gift. I can truly say they have changed me forever.

Now, I'm off to change a diaper.

Points for the Good Guys

Rey's getting better at saying what I want to hear. The proof:

Me: Guess what? I just weighed myself and I weigh as much as I did when I was pregnant.

Rey: How can that be when you look so great??

Yes!! I think I may just keep you around a little longer.

Secrets to Successful Brothering

Since Noah has officially won the Nobel Best Brother Award, he has been preparing day and night for his acceptance speech. I found his notes tucked in a corner of his high chair the other day. These are top secret tips on how to be the world's best brother, so you better thank me for giving you the ahead-of-time, insider's look at these. Got to write fast, before he wakes up from his nap and discovers what I'm doing!!

Top Tip #1: Refer to little sis as "eee-eeee" (big boy talk for "baby") in the highest, squeakiest, sweetest voice you can.

Top Tip #2: Learn from mama. If mama calms baby down by going "Shhhh shhhh shhh", then do likewise. It helps to bob as you chant the magic sound.

Top Tip #3: Every morning, after playing a while, look around for baby. If the door to the bedroom is shut, bang on it while chirping "ee-eee" until the door is opened. Make a beeline for the crib and continue talking to baby in this chirpy voice.

Top Tip #4: Baby's other name is "nigh-nigh" ("goodnight").

Top Tip #5: Make sure to check out baby's stuff to see if it's ok. This includes playing with his/her rattle and sucking on his/her pacifier when mama and daddy aren't nearby.

Top Tip #6: Let nothing get between you and your access to baby. If this means learning how to climb up onto mama and daddy's super high bed for the first time, do it. No fear! Press onward.

Top Tip #7: When giving baby kissees, nothing sufices but at least 5 in a row. Less... well, then... you're not the best. Obviously.

Top Tip #8: Saved the best 'till last. This is the number one important one, really. THE JOB of big brother: Whenever baby makes a grunt, squeak or wail, your job is to alert mama. Sort of the Lassie of the family. Run to baby (or as close as possible) and reach out your hand to him/her while looking around for mama and saying "ee-eee" as many times as nessesary to alert the (sluggish/neglectful/not-on-top-of-her-game) mama.

THE END.

And, I must say: He speaks from experience!! I love you, bubby!!

Maybe...

I should just wake Rey up at random times during the night and write down what he says. Seems to be the most interesting thing these days.

Last night, I got up to nurse Aleni. As I was "getting situated", Rey rolled over and sat up on the edge of the bed next to me. We sat that way in companiable silence for quite a few moments--both drooped over in semi-sleep. I was thinking perhaps he was waiting to burp and rock Aleni for me when I was done.

Finally, the silence was broken by his whisper:

"Did you tell me you heard Noah or something?"

No.

"Then, why am I up?"

Beats me.

It Does Worry Me a Little

Conversation between the sleep-deprived around 2 am:

Rey: (having just been jostled awake by his beloved) What?!
Beloved: Hey, I have to go to the bathroom. I just fed her--can you rock her until I get back?"
Rey: Rock who?

Enjoyment

So, we had snow here yesterday. I know! In Mexico! Not a complete shock, because we'd been told it sometimes happens here in the mountains.

We didn't get much accumulation, but a lot of the fluffy stuff came down throughout the morning. It was beautiful. I wondered if Noah would notice what was going on outside. And then I saw this:

He stayed like this for about 15 minutes (an eternity for a toddler!). He'd press his nose against the glass and fog it up with his breath. He'd look at us to see if we saw what he saw. And, he just took in the wonder of a first snowfall.

And then, deep in thought, slowly... he began to clap.

And it made me smile.

Reflections on Girl Babies

Whenever anyone hears we're having a girl...they always seem so estatic. Almost relieved. They give me that special, insider's look that says, "You finally got what you really wanted."

And, I am super excited to be having a girl. But, I think deep-down I was kind of feeling like a baby boy would be easier. There's the obvious, shallow reason: way less new clothing needed! But, I honestly feel more nervous about the parenting aspect with a girl.

I feel like I "get" boys a little more (it could possibly have something to do with the fact I have 7 bros and only 2 sisters). I feel like this world is even more scary for girls than ever, and will I be able to be the example and influence that she needs to be strong and pure? Confident and holy? Will I be strong enough to remain steady in her turbulant "becoming-a-woman" years?

I guess these issues are pretty far away at this point, but I can't help thinking about them. It's probably a good time to be working on becoming the woman I would like my girl to be...and praying up for the wisdom I am gonna be needing!

A shout out

Heard of an inner-city pastor who started the now-flourishing "Graffiti Church". He so named it after various attempts at repainting their church building was only met with yet more graffitti.

Mr. Pastor, you need to come start a church in my neighborhood.

I'm just sayin'.