Double digit temps! Warm enough that I can get away with flip-flops to and from the laundry room. But still cold enough that the trees are wearing sweaters.
For the longest time I thought “Ebenezer” was a cup. Not just any cup, mind you, one of those old drinking vessels that might also be called goblet or chalice. My reasoning, you see, was all based on the hymn, “Here I raise mine Ebenezer, hither by thy help I’m come.” To my little girl ears, it sounded like someone was proposing a toast, glass in hand to having made it so far. I know better now, but I still feel as if I am far more likely to toast how far I’ve made it than to set a large stone on end. But truthfully, I’m not very likely to do either. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not slighting the role God has had in bringing me as far as I am. And it’s not a lack of gratitude that turns me into being one of the nine lepers who never returned to thank Jesus for his healing. (At least, not always.) Instead, I’ve found that many times I don’t want to draw attention to what God has done for me because I worry it will make others feel as if I am intimating that I am a favor
There is a place here in Beijing that I (not so) affectionately call The Crazy Market. Imagine four floors of wall to wall shops, one shop selling the same thing that 15 other shops are selling, all displayed with bright colors and lights and each shop having two or three people who call out "Hello! What are you looking for?" "Hello! We give you good price!" "Hello! How many coats you want buy?" "Hello! We have your size shoe!" (This one makes me want to stop and say "Oh, I greatly doubt it.") "Hello! Nice pearls for you!" If you so much as look at an item, it is immediately assumed that you will buy it and so they call out "What is your highest price? We give you good discount." The only exception to this is the very bottom floor that is filled with every imaginable and unimagineable sea creature and various sea creature parts in various stages of life. This serves as a good aroma which frequently makes its way up t
This week marks 8 years since SOS asked me to marry him. In honor of that occasion, here are eight photos of us. Our first picture together. At my sister's wedding, two months after I finally admitted we were dating... and six months after our first date. In front of the Beverly Hills Court House after getting our marriage license. Because starting something off in Beverly Hills is much more glamorous than in Northridge... or maybe just the lines are shorter. Our wedding day. Dinner at our first home (our Honeymoon House). Notice the yogurt cups and pie plates we are using as our fine china and our high quality furniture. Our first meal in our new house. We had some work to do. :) First international travel together. Notice how well we communicated about what kind of picture we were taking. What we look like through our children's eyes. And proof that every decision we make as parents is met with joy and enthusiasm by t
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