Enjoy the Drive

Once more, God spoke to me through my son. Asher is a blessing in so many ways, and to hear God's voice through him is no exception. This time, God spoke directly to something I have been struggling with for a while, and most deeply for the past few months.

Asher likes to "drive" our cars (while they're parked, ok?). I mean, he loves it. Can't see a parked car without begging for it. So, we let him do it. He'll stay for the longest time without tiring. But eventually we either have to go where we were going or I get bored standing there. If I stand too close, he becomes too preoccupied with the inevitability of me reaching in to take him out, that he ceases to enjoy driving. Today, as I began to lean his way, he just sat facing the window, whining and frowning at me. And today, I got it. I heard the Lord point out to me that that's EXACTLY what I've been doing in my world every day. I can't enjoy the astounding blessings that surround me these days because I worry so much about what I think is coming. I assume that surely I can't be experiencing good times and, on top of that be hearing messages about storms, without the inevitable thundercloud approaching my household any minute! Surely that's the rumble of thunder I hear beyond the laughter.

Well, whatever. If it comes, it comes. I can't change whether it does. God will see me through what comes. He promises that. He also promised that we'll have tribulation in this world. But dog-gone-it, I can't worry about when it will come and what it will be when it does. It's then that I miss the sheer pleasure of "driving."

Yes, Jesus Loves Asher

We were in the place of mega memory making--the rocking chair--and I was singing my nightly rendition of "Jesus Loves Me." After I completed one sing-through, Asher pulled his paci out and whispered:

"Jesus lahvs me, this I know. Foah da Bible tews me so. Little ones...belong. They awur...shtrong. Yes, Jesus lahvs me."

I had no idea he knew the whole song. I had never heard him try it. Sudden revelations like this astound me. He is learning so much so fast. But of all the things I want him to learn, that Jesus loves him is foremost. It's foremost for all of us. When we accept and believe completely that Jesus loves us--always, unconditionally--we trust Him more. We rest in Him more. And we, in turn, love Him more.

I am so blessed by my little boy. He is surely proof that yes, Jesus loves me. Such a crucial and amazing truth. Such a precious boy.

Future Hall Monitor?

Yesterday in the car, whilst taking a curve apparently too fast for Asher's taste, he exclaimed:

"Careful Mommy! 'Bout lost me!"

My pint-sized safety patrolman also gently reminds me to put my seat belt on. He's two and already developing mad skillz at handing out directions.

Would anyone like to take a stab at who he picked that up from? Yeah, I have no idea either.

Two Years

Today my baby turned two years old. I know this saying gets old, but "Where did the time go?"

But the age he is always becomes the "best" age. We enjoy him so much at each stage. It gets better and better and more and more fun. (Although, I am suddenly recalling another saying: "Terrible Twos.") I'm scared, but for today two is fun.

Asher's party was super fun! Thanks to his best friend, Peyton, the kids got to "bounce." Thanks to grandmas, the kids got to eat. Thanks to Beth, the Sesame Street drum cake was a "hit." (Ha! A hit! I'm so funny yet so tired.) Thanks to Ashley and April, the party will forever be treasured by way of photo and film. Certainly last but not least, thanks to mommy and daddy, the kids got to play with a great kid named Asher.

Thank you to everyone who came, gave gifts, shared laughs, traveled far, and loved Asher. We are blessed with the most wonderful friends and family! And this mommy is blessed with the most precious two-year-old little boy.

A Space for Me

I finally did it. I joined the 21st century and created a myspace page.

I was resistant to the notion at first, not understanding why this was something I needed to make time for...until I reconnected with an awesome high school friend via email last week. She asked whether I was on myspace (by the way, when people ask that, they usually assume you are because...who's not, right?). By that, I knew she was, so I checked out her page...and her "friends." Thanks to the information age, I found people I hadn't seen in TEN or more YEARS. (Yes, I am old.) That was so awesome, and it was then that I realized that I needed to find me a space on myspace.

Simple, right? Not so much. I'm 28, not 14. Fourteen-year-olds are all about this. Heck, I bet a six-year-old could have created a page with more ease than I did. I got so frustrated and confused...because...I'm OLD. I related to the adults who, when I was a teenager, complained about those "darn computers." "Who needs computers when a piece of paper and a pencil have been just fine all these years?" I felt a kinship with my dear father-in-law who has been emotionally and physically beaten down by technology at home and in his medical workplace. As technology advances, youth thrives and the aged fall out of touch...and even go crazy.

Myspace has served to bring me to the realization that I have become what I once pitied.

Nevertheless, I have a myspace page, for what it's worth! Search for me! Add me as a friend! (And then I'll see if I can figure out what to do next so that you're "added" or whatever...) But most importantly, please have mercy on me and comment with any myspace tips you have for an old soul trying to keep up and reconnect...

From the Beak of a Chicken

I got him to put on the chicken suit by explaining that when he did, we'd go with Gramma and Grandpa to get CANDY!
When Gramma picked us up to go downtown and find Grandpa, I asked Asher to tell Gramma what we were going to get with Gramma and Grandpa. And Asher exclaimed, "MONEY!"

Ah, mercenary at such a young age.

Tales from the Web

Are you all sick of arachnid tales coming from my home? Yes, I respect that, but I have one more.

We had a Black Widow and a couple of her eggs outside of our back door. See, it's ok if I tell another scary story about spiders because this spider was a Black Widow. I spotted the eggs on a web one afternoon, and thanks to Rebecca, I knew by the spikes that they belonged to a Black Widow. Although I had never seen this type of spider for real, only in text books, I've always carried a dark fear.

Ryan to the rescue. He killed the eggs AND, in doing so, lured Mama spider out. After killing her, he verified the carcass was indeed that of a Black Widow. Right on, Ky! My entomology skillz saved our household from certain peril. (I can't diminish the heroic efforts of Ryan. Way to go, Ryan!)

Last, but not least, thank you Rebecca for teaching me a quick lesson on the anatomy of a Black Widow spider egg. You unknowingly saved my family's lives! (Ok, I realize nature houses more deadly creatures than the Black Widow spider. I should probably go online and research the Brown Recluse and Rattlesnake so I can worry about them too.)