An artist indeed. In the end, he had painted his sugar cookie train in a menagerie of green (that one was first, of course), blue, yellow and pink icing. Yum!
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Evolution of a Sugar Cookie
An artist indeed. In the end, he had painted his sugar cookie train in a menagerie of green (that one was first, of course), blue, yellow and pink icing. Yum!
Sunday, December 13, 2009
First Birthday
A long day of travel. On crowded roads, through a rather bleak airport, to the shining steel structure that awaited us when we landed - the Bangkok airport, the late-night highway drive at breakneck speed with all three kids asleep, our arrival in Hua Hin, Thailand for the Samaritan's Purse retreat accompanied by our dear friends - the Welches, and a delightful welcom by Jason's parents who joined us for some r&r. That was Esther's first birthday. (Thanks to those that sent birthday wishes via cards and email - and later phone!)
The party wasn't until we got home. But it was a lot of fun. Chocolate cake - our tradition - and a whole room-full of friends to sing and celebrate. It was potluck night, one of our weekly rituals. The happy birthday sign, balloons and the smiling faces, especially Esther's (and Nathan and Noelle's as they savored their chocolate cake and the fun), was a sweet way to remember and delight in the birth of our Estie Lou.
Friday, December 04, 2009
Reminded
Today I was reminded of why we're here.
The children and I went with our friends, the Welches, to visit some of the sick children at the hospital on Wednesday. We hadn't been in quite a while. But Jason had shared about one boy in particular that was weighing heavily on his heart. The 12-year-old son of a local family had climbed quite high in a tree and fallen. He sustained a C4/C5 fracture of his spine and was completely paralyzed. He was able to see and comprehend his surroundings, but he could not even breathe on his own. For several days, his family had sat and stood by his bedside "bagging" him - squeezing the ambu bag to give him oxygen since we have no ventilators for the wards. Jason agonized that they would be faced with the decision of how long to allow him to stay in the hospital like that - completely dependent yet able to think clearly and understand.
We went. We greeted. We smiled and asked a few questions. Nathan climbed up on a stool so he could see him high in the bed. We gave the boy a little toy that could sit by him. We prayed. We left. We wished there was something more we could do.
Jason is off this weekend, but this morning we heard that the little boy died yesterday. No one had a precise reason. It was during the night. Perhaps retained secretions, perhaps the one bagging him fell asleep, perhaps it was simply grace...
Today at lunch Jason shared with Nathan that we were sad. The little boy we had prayed for so earnestly, that God would heal him, had died. Tears immediately welled up in Nathan's eyes. He laid his forehead to the edge of the table. Why? Jason held him in his arms. We talked.
We don't know why. We can only see dimly. But we know that God loves that little one just as He loves us, and we know that is what we are to be about every day, no matter what, no matter where we are. We are glad that our children can wrestle even now with such tough questions. We know that God is working for our good. I was reminded.
The children and I went with our friends, the Welches, to visit some of the sick children at the hospital on Wednesday. We hadn't been in quite a while. But Jason had shared about one boy in particular that was weighing heavily on his heart. The 12-year-old son of a local family had climbed quite high in a tree and fallen. He sustained a C4/C5 fracture of his spine and was completely paralyzed. He was able to see and comprehend his surroundings, but he could not even breathe on his own. For several days, his family had sat and stood by his bedside "bagging" him - squeezing the ambu bag to give him oxygen since we have no ventilators for the wards. Jason agonized that they would be faced with the decision of how long to allow him to stay in the hospital like that - completely dependent yet able to think clearly and understand.
We went. We greeted. We smiled and asked a few questions. Nathan climbed up on a stool so he could see him high in the bed. We gave the boy a little toy that could sit by him. We prayed. We left. We wished there was something more we could do.
Jason is off this weekend, but this morning we heard that the little boy died yesterday. No one had a precise reason. It was during the night. Perhaps retained secretions, perhaps the one bagging him fell asleep, perhaps it was simply grace...
Today at lunch Jason shared with Nathan that we were sad. The little boy we had prayed for so earnestly, that God would heal him, had died. Tears immediately welled up in Nathan's eyes. He laid his forehead to the edge of the table. Why? Jason held him in his arms. We talked.
We don't know why. We can only see dimly. But we know that God loves that little one just as He loves us, and we know that is what we are to be about every day, no matter what, no matter where we are. We are glad that our children can wrestle even now with such tough questions. We know that God is working for our good. I was reminded.
Testing, testing...
After a long hiatus from blogging, we're back. (Guess we'll see if anyone missed us!)
The glow of our (fancy, new, straight-from-Thailand) mosquito zapping machine peeks into the office as I sit down to type. I consider myself an all-star sleeper, but I am routinely awakened these days by the buzzing of mosquitoes in my ear. The quickest way to alleviate the nuisance is to put your head under the covers. If you don't mind getting out of bed, you can turn on the fan (it's finally cool enough we don't have to have it on). But if you're really thinking ahead you can pre-treat your room with a healthy dose of the mosquito zapping machine.
Nathan and I were discussing the prevalence of termites right now. And I asked him,
"Nathan, do you know what termites like to eat?"
"Yes!" he said, "They like to eat wood and then it comes out their bottoms as dirt."
So there you have it. Unbeknownst to me, he had already been thoroughly educated regarding termites.
Noelle was rather upset this morning while playing as she tried to set up the table for tea. Esther wanted to take one of the plates and she didn't have enough cups. I took some of our melamine tea cups from the kitchen and brought them to her. Then she busily continued. Four saucers. Four cups. Four cushions on the floor to sit on. But she wasn't satisfied. Of course, those having tea would need some kind of activity. And, according to what she knows, she chose books. She covered every inch of the table, that didn't have cups and saucers, with books. Finally she was happy. Her little nest was arranged. (I have no idea where she got to be so particular.) How incredible that one so small would both desire for and know what it means (even in small ways) to make a home.
My own journey during this time has brought me time and again to the fundamental nature of "home". You can't fully appreciate the need for it or the loftiness of the goal until you are removed from much of what "home" has been for your whole life. At another's recommendation, I read For the Family's Sake by Susan Schaeffer Macaulay. Excellent and inspiring. Though many have asked if I will be working at the hospital here, I have a different calling in life right now. I am a home-maker. By trial and error and with a grateful heart for the good insights I've received from others, I am learning what it means to be the creator of "home" for our family. It's a crazy, fun, sometimes overwhelming, wonderful role and some day I might have time for something in addition to that - but not now.
The glow of our (fancy, new, straight-from-Thailand) mosquito zapping machine peeks into the office as I sit down to type. I consider myself an all-star sleeper, but I am routinely awakened these days by the buzzing of mosquitoes in my ear. The quickest way to alleviate the nuisance is to put your head under the covers. If you don't mind getting out of bed, you can turn on the fan (it's finally cool enough we don't have to have it on). But if you're really thinking ahead you can pre-treat your room with a healthy dose of the mosquito zapping machine.
Nathan and I were discussing the prevalence of termites right now. And I asked him,
"Nathan, do you know what termites like to eat?"
"Yes!" he said, "They like to eat wood and then it comes out their bottoms as dirt."
So there you have it. Unbeknownst to me, he had already been thoroughly educated regarding termites.
Noelle was rather upset this morning while playing as she tried to set up the table for tea. Esther wanted to take one of the plates and she didn't have enough cups. I took some of our melamine tea cups from the kitchen and brought them to her. Then she busily continued. Four saucers. Four cups. Four cushions on the floor to sit on. But she wasn't satisfied. Of course, those having tea would need some kind of activity. And, according to what she knows, she chose books. She covered every inch of the table, that didn't have cups and saucers, with books. Finally she was happy. Her little nest was arranged. (I have no idea where she got to be so particular.) How incredible that one so small would both desire for and know what it means (even in small ways) to make a home.
My own journey during this time has brought me time and again to the fundamental nature of "home". You can't fully appreciate the need for it or the loftiness of the goal until you are removed from much of what "home" has been for your whole life. At another's recommendation, I read For the Family's Sake by Susan Schaeffer Macaulay. Excellent and inspiring. Though many have asked if I will be working at the hospital here, I have a different calling in life right now. I am a home-maker. By trial and error and with a grateful heart for the good insights I've received from others, I am learning what it means to be the creator of "home" for our family. It's a crazy, fun, sometimes overwhelming, wonderful role and some day I might have time for something in addition to that - but not now.
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