6710 Grand

David and Bathsheeba--what a scandal!  I'm reading yet another Max Lucado book, Facing Your Giants .  It's a detailed journey through David's life as runt of the litter, chosen by God, giant slayer, fugitive, king and yes, general sinner. Now, I love Max Lucado (big shock) but in this book he said something that really  got to me.  Hours later, I'm still annoyed.  Here it is: We've gone through most of David's life, past the Goliath thing, past the running from Saul, past the death of his best friend.  I feel like I really know David at this point.  We're now up to his perhaps most famous temptation--Bathsheeba.  She's another man's wife.  So here Max is describing the scene, Bathsheeba taking a bath.  that's really all we know about what she was doing .  But David is enamored.  Max describes what must have been a beautiful woman (at least in David's mind).  A servant is summoned who tells David who she is--Uriah's wife.  But David do

I'm reading a book on Christian hedonism.  At first I was really looking forward to it--finding pleasure in pursuing God.  So much of Christianity feels like you have to suffer to be a true Christian.  There's a song about it--something about blessings coming through raindrops and healing through tears.  While I'm sure that happens plenty, I have a hard time believing that God wants  us to suffer or that we have to in order to experience salvation.  Isn't that what Christ did for us?  He took the suffering; He took the pain; He took the tears and the rain so that we could be spared.  Sadly, this book seems to take the side of pleasure in suffering instead of pleasure in God.  Like somehow we can't enjoy what He gives us unless we are doing so only  out of a desire to please Him.  It gives the example of Paul and how he talked about suffering for Christ while he was imprisoned.  Certainly the disciples were martyrs for the cause of Christ and if they had not sacrif

Isabelle likes movies--a lot.  Almost as much as Nick and I do.  But she, like many kids (certainly all of mine) will watch the same one over and over and over and over... for weeks!  We've often heard her reciting portions of them and tried to figure out where she heard whatever comment from (remember the sinners in church?).  It being holiday season, we're slowly bringing out the holiday movies.  On Halloween we watched our old favorites, Garfield Halloween and It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.  Now that Halloween is over and we're full into Thanksgiving territory, we've moved on to Garfield Thanksgiving and A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving.  That last one is her current favorite.  It's ALWAYS what she wants to watch.  If you haven't seen it, nothing I'm about to say will mean much.  So, stop reading now and go find it on YouTube or something.  Last night, in an effort to keep things somewhat healthy prior to Thanksgiving and to eliminate all p

I am one of the strongest most amazing people alive.  I must be.  I can accomplish--in mere SECONDS--on of THE most difficult tasks known to mankind. What is this task, you ask? Is it curing cancer?  Preparing a gourmet meal?  Giving birth to quadruplets... naturally ? Oh no.  None of these trivial things compares to THIS most difficult, nay, nearly IMPOSSIBLE tasks! What is it?  I'll tell you... Changing the roll of toilet paper! Yes, that's right--NO ONE in my house is capable except ME!  I'm the only one who can do it and therefore, I'm the only one that DOES! Now, I'll give my husband a pass because half the time, he's not in the same time zone as the rest of us and the other half, well, let's face it ladies, a lot of what happens in "there" doesn't require TP for guys.  Lucky them.  But what about these children?  What's their excuse?  It baffles me even more when I find a fresh roll (or worse, a halfway used one) sitting o

It's fall and that's my favorite.  I love the pumpkin spiced life.  I love the salted caramel, the cinnamon, the squash.  And the colors.  How gorgeous they are!  The reds and yellows and oranges--even on gloomy days they are bright and beautiful.  It is the time of year I most look forward to. But fall has gotten so busy.  The back to school that starts it all is filled with paperwork and doctor visits and school shopping.  Then there are the birthdays--7 of them just in our family.  Even the ones for people who don't live in my house need attention.  Then there are the parties of the friends my kids are invited to.  A drop off, a pick up, a gift, a card.  The start of school brings school activities.  So far, that's only 2 kids but Bebo will soon be demanding her own turn to play piano or whatever else she wants to try.  Work--work is INSANE in the fall and will be for as long as I'm in non-profit fundraising.  Fall is when we have our big events.  Our big end

It's a thing here--like hoagies and cheesesteaks.  The Tomato Pie.  I had my first taste of one yesterday and I have to say, I don't get it.  I've heard of it and, because I like tomatoes, they look tasty enough--just like a pizza except it's tomatoes.  Now, in Chicago, the pizzas don't look much different.  They put the cheese on the bottom (ok, so it's basically a wheel of cheese surrounded by crist and sauce is on top--sooooo delicious).  But the tomato pie has no cheese.  And, it's cold. Um, what? Ok, if you're lactose intolerant, I get it--no cheese on your pizza.  But why is it cold?  The tomatoes are cooked--they're just...cold.  Why???  It's like pizza with none of the good stuff. People here love them. I do not understand.  The event I was at last night had apparently ordered more food than necessary and they asked if I wanted to take any of the leftovers home for my kids.  I politely declined telling them that if I brought home pi

It's 2:00 in the afternoon.  I've been up since 3:30.  It's a typical day.  Awake early, a short walk while the coffee brews then 40 minutes with one cup, Bible study and a review of my day.  It's going to be a long one today--afternoon meetings and after school activities so I won't be done until 7:00. It's been a chaotic couple of weeks and it's all catching up with me.  Hungry.  But I've eaten lunch.  What's in my bag?  Nothing...  This isn't good.  Pregnant, hungry and out of food.  Sounds like the name of a new reality show.  Ok, I have time to run out but it's too late for second lunch and too early for dinner.  What then? Coffee.  Of course.  But should I?  Hmm.  I open my cabinet.  It's full of k-cups.  But none of them are decaf and I really shouldn't have caffeine.  That means going out.  Starbucks isn't far.  But should I? I sit and think. What do I want? Hot or cold? Definitely hot--it's been rainy and

I supposed I should have posted this a while ago.  But I didn't.  It hasn't felt real until...well, it still doesn't.  Maybe I was waiting for that--for it to feel real.  I'm betting it will finally sink in on February 15th--that's when our little man is due to arrive. That's right.  I'm pregnant and it's a boy. A boy.  What?  Are we sure?  Yep.  We're sure.  But no.  It can't be.  We have girls.  That's what we do.  We know how to do that (at least so far).  What am I supposed to do with a boy?  I have to buy all new stuff! I've mostly heard horror stories about raising boys.  The first thing everyone says is how spoiled he'll be by his big sisters. I always follow it up with "Or he'll grow up really understanding women."  Let's hope for the latter. Despite the spoiling alert and the "just you wait" looks I get from moms of boys, what I consistently hear is how much boys love their mommas.  Even th

During my first trip to San Diego when Nick and I were dating, he took me to the San Diego Zoo (and a whole lot of other places).  I bought a picture frame in the gift shop and later, put in a picture of the two of us together that my brother took.  Later, during my next trip when he took me to Disneyland, I bought a second frame...and then one at Sea World, and then one at Six Flags Magic Mountain.  It became a thing.  Now, we have dozens of them, marking the places we've been together.  You can literally watch our lives progress through the photos.  As we've added children, destinations, states...it's like a timeline of our life.  We have one rule--we do not replace the old photo if we visit that place again and our family has changed.  So, the picture we took at the Philadelphia Zoo only has 2 of our daughters even though Isabelle has been there dozens of times.  She wasn't with us on the visit where we bought the frame.  We also don't typically buy more than one