Off We Go!

We're going camping today and I don't know who is more excited, Jon and I or the short people! Some of my happiest memories are of camping trips when I was a kid. We would tent camp most of the time but occasionally we'd hike in to some backwoods lake and just throw our sleeping bags on the ground. One time we were by a creek that fed into a lake. While we were sleeping a bear was getting a drink out of the creek not ten feet from us! Back then I thought it was the coolest thing ever. Now, I'd probably have a heart attack to think of a bear that close to my kids! My dad was a single dad and they just don't tend to think of stuff like that! :)

I've been reading a book about writing that Shannon loaned to me. One of the author's suggestions was to carry index cards with you wherever you go so you can take notes or jot down a thought when it strikes so I've packed several of them. Let's see if I remember to use them! We will be home on Monday afternoon and I'm hoping to blog Tuesday morning. I need to keep with writing something every day.

Until then I will be eating smores and grilled bananas* until my buttons pop! Hope you all have a great Memorial Day weekend!

*If you've never had a grilled banana you are missing an essential in life! (Well, not if you hate bananas I suppose, but I digress!) Take an unpeeled banana and cut a triangle shaped wedge out of the center along the length. Eat or in some other way get rid of the chunk you cut out but keep the piece of peel. Fill the void with mini marshmallows, butterscotch chips, chocolate chips, walnuts or whatever else you can think of that will go well with banana and bad with your diet. Lay the peel over the top of your goodies and wrap the banana tightly in foil. Grill ten to 15 minutes (depending on how hot your fire is you may need to increase or decrease the time. I usually check the stuff in the middle. If it's gooey, it's done!) Try not to burn your lips off as you eat your gooey mess!

Stop a Moment...

The first rays of the sun have been creeping across the yard. They finally make their way to my front window where they suddenly burst into my living room with brilliant morning light. I sit staring in wonder at the change these golden rays have brought. The greens and browns that just moments ago looked flat and dim have come alive with vibrant warmth reminding me of the mountain woods on a hot summer day. The sun hits my crystal candleholder and it explodes in a fury of color sending rainbows dancing over the walls and ceiling. I am so dazzled I can only sit and blink in amazement.

My eyes have barely begun to adjust to the brightness before it's started to fade and my living room is returned to normal. But the memory of the morning lingers with me.

The day moves on. There is work to be done, things to clean and children to teach. I dash in and out of the house preparing for our upcoming camping trip. Clean the car, wash the coolers, and find the tent and sleeping bags. The sun is still shining, brilliant in a clear blue sky but I have no time to notice it now. I’m too busy with life to stop and feel its warmth softly kiss my face, too busy to be lulled to peacefulness in its presence.

I’m just too busy.

My garden swing has been calling to me all day, finally I hear it. I quiet the busyness for a time just to enjoy the sun. To remember the brilliance I enjoyed in the early morning when the world was peaceful.

I am glad that I was awake that early to catch the beauty of the moment. My quiet time with the Lord has become like that picture of the sun in the morning; A dazzling display of God’s love and presence that stays with me throughout my busy day. The peacefulness of my time with Him lingers with me beckoning me back to Him.

Have you spent time with the Lord yet today? Listen carefully and you will hear Him, He’s beckoning you too. Stop a moment and feel warmth of His love softly kiss your face, let His presence fill you with His peace.

Take a moment to enjoy the Son.

Checking In

Well, I keep intending to post something but so far it hasn't happened. I caught that nasty cold so I'm feeling pretty crummy at the moment. I've also been busy getting my Mom's sourdough recipe collection typed into my computer. She's been collecting these recipes her entire life so you can imagine the volume! And they're almost all handwritten. I don't know how she's been able to find what she wanted all these years because it's just a big jumble of papers. I need to get all of those in before her visit in July so that hasn't left me a whole lot of time. (Let's not talk about the fact that I've had them for almost a year!)

I have been writing in my notebook everyday though so I will flip through it and see if there is anything blog worthy in there. (I'm sure there will be lots to tell you next week because we're going camping this weekend).

For now though here is a recipe from my Mom's collection.

SOURDOUGH ROCKY ROAD LOAF
1/2 cup milk
1 tablespoon dry yeast
1/4 cup warm water
1 cup sourdough
1/4 cup sugar
1 tsp salt
3 tbs veg. oil
1/3 cup sugar
1/3 cup packed brown sugar
2 tsp cinnamon
1/4 cup butter
2/3 cup chopped walnuts
2/3 cup semi sweet chocolate chips
1 cup miniature marshmallows
3 to 4 cups flour

Scald milk then cool to almost room temperature. Sprinkle yeast over warm water and let sit 5 minutes to dissolve.

Combine sourdough, milk, yeast, 1/4 cup sugar, salt, egg and oil til smooth. Stir in enough flour to make a medium stiff dough (no longer sticks to the sides of the bowl). Turn out and knead 8-10 minutes until smooth and elastic. Place in a greased bowl, turn once to grease top; cover and let rise until double (1 to 2 hours).

In a small bowl combine 1/3 cup sugar, brown sugar and cinnamon.

When dough is doubled punch it down. Roll out to 14"x10" rectangle. Spread with butter. Sprinkle the cinnamon sugar mixture evenly over the dough. Then sprinkle with nuts, chocolate chips and marshmallows. Beginning on a long edge roll dough jelly roll style. Place seam side down with ends folded to center in a greased pan. (I'm assuming a loaf pan here but I haven't made this recipe yet so you may have to use a larger size). Cover, let rise util double (1-2 hours).

Bake at 375 degrees 40 - 50 minutes. Let cool 5 minutes then remove to wire rack.

Like I said, I haven't made this one yet but it sounded good! If you make it let me know how it turns out.

Attitude starts younger and younger....

New Plan...

I’m sitting at my computer gazing out the window at a slowly awakening world. The birds are chirping, a few frogs are still singing and a soft breeze rustles through the new spring leaves. Overhead I hear the lazy drone of a plane. I feel peaceful and content. Then I hear the melodious voice of my darling son…..

“I THOUGHT WE WERE SUPPOSED TO FLUSH THE DANG TOILET!!!”

And so another day begins…

That is how my day started and it has been pretty much down hill from there. (Although I was laughing when he said that!) I had planned to write some wonderful thing about contentment and counting my blessings in the everyday chaos of life. I’m sure it would have been my best yet! ;)

But it’s not going to happen.

My kids are grumpy and they’re trying to pull me over to the dark side! I have begun to snap back at them and I don't like the direction we are headed. So my plan for the day is this; we are going to wear our jammies all day, we’re going to lie around on the floor playing games and watching movies. We’ll light a candle or two because that’s what we do on dark rainy days and if it begins to thunder and lightening again we will grin at each other with excitement. Maybe we’ll even bring out the blankets and make the living room into a giant tent. Later we’ll probably bake some cookies and I will let them drink tea out of my special tea cups.

When the day is over and the laundry is still not put away and the dishes aren’t done I will choose not to worry about it because more important things were accomplished. My children will have spent a day doing all the stuff they love with someone who adores them.

Life is fleeting and I don't want to miss a moment. I have to go now, the popcorn is ready.

Ten years ago she was Grace's size!

Here we go...

I feel like I'm standing on the edge of a great precipice. The ground falls away below me, the bottom too far away to see. I can tell by the little rocks that skitter away that I'm about to plunge in whether I like it or not. It's a large unknown that incites fear, sadness and trepidation, but I'm a little excited too. Who knows what that chasm holds? What beautiful thing may lay unseen at the bottom? I have to jump to find out.

I've been inching ever closer to the edge for awhile now. What is this vast space that causes such dread to well up inside of me?

My daughter is approaching the teen years.

You seasoned veterans may be snickering about now but I'm sure once upon a time you too were standing on the edge. Some of you are still falling, catching glimpses of what the bottom may look like but still too caught up in the rush to see the full picture yet. Other's of you have already landed. Hopefully you haven't splatted like a bug on a windshield and can offer me hope!

I know the Lord is trying to prepare me for the changing dynamic we are facing. Jessica just turned eleven and while that may not seem terribly old to some, I see it starting already. Always more of a tomboy than a princess, lately I've seen her casting furtive glances at the trendy clothes and make up. She's forever in the shower and her moods are beginning to rival mine! (My poor husband!) But then that little girl will show up and she'll be out catching bugs and climbing trees.

She's caught in the tension between being a little girl and being a young woman.

I hate it. I love it.

I enjoy her in a way I couldn't when she was just a little girl. I can see glimpses of the friends we will be when she is on the other side. I can tell her to go make dinner and it's edible!

I guess like everything in life there are trade offs. I will lose some precious things as she leaves her childhood behind. But I will gain some precious things too. Like a babysitter. And a shopping partner! And hopefully a disciple.

I guess there is no turning back, I have to take the plunge. Would those of you who have gone before shout out where the sharp pointy objects are so I can try to avoid some of them?

See you at the bottom.

Her Name Was Eloise...

She was like a shadow, a wraith that didn't belong in our brightly colored world. We were loud and boisterous, all swirling colors and brashness like a small town carnival.

She was shades of brown and gray. Quiet. Withdrawn.

She was in pain every minute of every day from the rhuematoid arthritis that had invaded her body. She was tall but walked hunched over, almost folded in half like she was trying to disappear inside herself. Lank, stringy brown hair framed a face that appeared far older than its years. Haunting and filled with sadness, I saw her eyes for a long time after she left our church.

Our church, where she should have found comfort, solace and peace but instead found disdain. A crazy circus of spiritual show offs that offered nothing but cotton candy when she needed so much more. The memory of our pride leaves me dizzy.

Her pain would not allow her to sit for more than a few minutes at a time so we let her lay on the floor in the back. Behind the last row of chairs. Out of sight. Weren't we nice? We even let her bring her pillows. For awhile we pretended that it was okay for her to be there. I think we expected her to join our carnival. We believed that if you were sick or poor it was somehow your fault. You didn't have enough faith or weren't spiritual enough. But she wouldn't put on a mask for us. She refused to be as "spiritual" as we were so we looked down on her.

One day the leader of Women's Ministry voiced her frustration. "What are people going to think of our church with her laying around!?"

I felt as if I had been slapped in the face. When it had been unspoken I could try to pretend we weren't really that shallow. But here it was out in the open, and I was ashamed. I wish I could say that I took her to task, that I took Eloise's pillows and plopped them right up front! That I restored righteousness!

But I didn't.

I stayed silent, too afraid of this woman to stand up for Eloise. Not surprisingly she left our church soon after that. She hadn't heard what was said but I'm certain she could feel it.

I tried hard to forget her. I convinced myself that she'd found a better church where they were nice to her. "Maybe she's even been healed!" I thought. The carnival went on.

The end? Not exactly. About a year later I saw Eloise on the news, or rather, a picture of her. She had in fact found a new church. It was in the basement of that church where she was murdered while trying to protect her friend.

My carnival came to a screeching halt. This woman we had thought of as weak and below our standard of spirituality understood the heart of God better than any one of us. She gave her life for another. I mourned for Eloise and I mourned for us because we had so completely missed the point. And I repented.

I didn't have the chance to tell Eloise how sorry I was for how I treated her, but someday I will. I pray that I will never forget her or the lesson I learned at her expense. Everyone has value. There isn't one who isn't loved by the Father.

Not the homeless guy with the ratty backpack. Not the man in Burger King who talks to his milkshake. Not the woman whose five kids all have a different dad.

God is not ashamed to call any one of us His child. He marches us right up to the front row and gives us the best seat in the house...right next to Him. When He walked this earth He touched the unclean and talked to the outcast. He loved the unlovable. I'm so glad He still does because I am all of those things.

So next time you see someone who seems undesirable, think of Eloise and offer to carry their pillows up front for them.

"By this we know love, because He laid down His life for us. And we also ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. But whoever has this world's goods, and sees his brother in need, and shuts up his heart from him, how does the love of God abide in him? My little children, let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth." 1 John 3:16-18

Mom's Log Stardate 5/16/05

It is 3:00 PM, Monday afternoon.

I have survived most of the day but my back up is still hours from being here. I have barricaded myself in a back room hoping to out last them. I don't know how long the door will hold.

3:08 PM

I can hear them out there trying to get in. In a futile attempt to fend them off I have given them a large bowl of popcorn and put in a video. This ruse will distract them for a time but I must come up with another plan or all hope will be lost.

3:20 PM

The sounds coming from the living room indicate that the popcorn is about gone and they are fighting over the last kernels like a pack of ravenous wolves! If they turn on me I am done for! I may have to escape out the window.


3:30 PM

I hear nothing but silence from the other side of the door. Either the television's mind numbing effects have kicked in or they are planning something heinous! I am to frightened to go look. It could be my doom.

3:40 PM

I couldn't stand it any longer. I had to go look. They are sprawled about the room staring at the box with glazed looks on their faces. I hope this is not a cruel hoax.

3:50 PM

I am beginning to feel sorry for these limp creatures. They appear lifeless and devoid of energy. All emotion seems to have been drained from them. Was I to harsh in using the televsion on them?

4:00 PM

My conciense will not let me continue to punish them. I feel I must revive them before all brain activity ceases. It will be risky but I must undo the wrong I have committed. I'm going to turn off the TV. I hope I survive it.

4:10 PM

I turned off the TV but they were too far gone. I had to counter the empty stares and glazed eyes. I did the unthinkable. I am taking all four of them to the library. If anyone finds this journal entry I only hope they learn from my mistakes and JUST STAY IN THE ROOM!

Happy 1st Birthday Gracie!!! Don't you just want to squeeze her?! (Well, after she's washed off maybe?)

Arielle And The Motorcycle...

There it was, sitting in the middle of the front yard all yellow and black like some giant bee. It called to her and she longed to answer yet she was afraid. She had tangled with this machine before…and lost.

Her thoughts drifted back to that not so long ago day. On that day it hadn’t looked menacing at all; a little loud maybe, but harmless. She had watched her big sister get on and ride up the hill, down the street and through the yard with a look of joy on her face.

"It must be easy and fun!” she thought.

Before she had her turn she had to listen to Dad explain how to work the controls. She tried to listen, she really did! But she was already sitting on it feeling its power rumble through her little eight year old body. She stroked the handle bars and vaguely heard something about how to put the brakes on.

“Do you understand how to do it now? Are you ready? Are you sure?”

“Yes Daddy!” she replied too excited to sit still.

She straightened her helmet, tugged on her gloves and nodded to her Dad. He helped her roll it a few feet and let go as she twisted the throttle.

And she went.

Fast!

As she hurtled across the yard she could hear her dad and Tim the neighbor screaming something at her but she couldn’t understand them. She was too scared to do anything other than hold on for dear life as she watched the fence get ever closer. She squeezed her eyes shut tight as she hit. She kept them closed as she flew off the bike, through the air and into the bushes.

When she opened them Daddy and Tim were standing over her, looks of concern and fear on their faces. She tried to be brave but the hot tears fell anyway.

They helped her up and made sure there were no serious injuries. How could all that terror result in only a few scratches? She hated that ugly yellow and black thing!

“I am NEVER going to ride that thing again!” she had announced.
~
“You ready Littlebitty?” Dad asks, jerking her thoughts back to the present.

“If I die those two will be sorry!” she thinks. Dad and Mom have been trying to get her back on that thing ever since she crashed. Dad even went so far as to hold the back tire off the ground while she practiced using the controls.

She sighs. “Okay Daddy.”

As she swings her leg over the seat and sits down the powerful rumbling sends an unexpected thrill of excitement through her. She takes a deep breath and looks at her Dad.

He sees her fear and reassures her. “Remember, I made it so it won’t go fast. You won’t crash like before. Trust me.”

She stares at him a moment before nodding her head. She looks down at that rumbly black and yellow bike and a look of determination enters those clear blue eyes. She squares her shoulders, takes a breath and twists the throttle.

Her Daddy pushes her a few feet and lets go just like before. She tries hard to keep her eyes open. Ahead of her is the fence but this time she steers away. Pure joy shoots through her! She rides up the hill, down the street and through the yard. She feels the wind on her face.....and she is free.

"...but one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead..." Philippians 3:13a

Jon & Josh

Sacrifices....

Yesterday I showed you a scene out of my childhood. I wish I could say it was an isolated incident but it wasn't. It probably won't come as a surprise that I turned into a bit of a control freak over the years. The idea of surrendering my heart to anyone (especially God) was frightening to say the least. I had built high thick walls to keep people out. I was adept at pushing people away and when they were gone I would mope because I'd been abandoned.

But there was one man who wouldn't move when I pushed him. There was one man who refused to leave. I said hurtful things to him, he said sweet things to me. I tried to run from him, he came after me. I pushed him away, he drew me in. Over time my walls started to crumble. No matter how frantically I tried to rebuild them, he had become skilled at tearing them down.

Slowly I began to trust him. No matter what happened he was steadfast. He never wavered in his love for me. Never once did he threaten me or try to hurt me. No matter what I gave, I received relentless love in return.

We had a child and all I wanted was to be able to stay home with her. He traded his brand new shiny truck for an old beater car. I got to stay home.

We had another child and I was sad because there was no money for Christmas. He sold his prized hunting rifle and bought us gifts.

When he is near I feel like a priceless, delicate heirloom; a precious treasure that he has been given to guard.

He has shown me one greater than himself. He has shown me Christ.

That man is my husband and today is his birthday, but I am the one who has received the gift. Happy Birthday honey, I love you.

"Therefore be imitators of God as dear children. And walk in love, as Christ also has loved us and given Himself for us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling aroma." Ephesians 5:1-2

Author's Note (Hey! That's me!)

Just wanted to comment on the "Tears" post from earlier today. It was hard to write and I worried that it was too intense for a blog. But I really felt compelled to write it, so I did. The following comment was left and this is what I really hope comes across in anything that I post. That God is good and He's brought me far. Thanks Diane (Hope you don't mind me putting you right out here in the open!)

"Oh wow, Fran, that's heavy. Made me sad at first, but then I just rejoiced in God's goodness in your life and where He's brought you! I just found this blog today! Good for you! Another outlet for bringing glory to God! :)Love you dear friend! Diane "

Tears...

My little sister and I were playing at a friend's apartment that warm spring afternoon. We had just been encouraged by her mom to go outside and play. As I stepped out onto the front porch I looked up and saw several police cars going up the hill. Most ten year old minds would not have made a connection but I knew where they were going. I lived up the hill.

I made arrangements with my friend's mom to keep my sister there and I snuck up to my apartment. As I ran through the grassy area behind the building next to ours I could see the officers milling about the parking lot. A couple of them already had their weapons drawn. Maybe it was just the ten year old in me but I didn't pause to think. I dashed around to the front of my building and slipped through the front door before anyone could stop me.

The scene that met my eyes will forever be etched in my memory. The room was dim even with the afternoon sun filtering through the faded curtains. The air was thick and hazy with cigarette smoke. My dad was sitting on our tattered green sofa with a .357 magnum to his temple. Beer and vodka bottles littered the table and floor around him.

"What are you doing Dad?"

He stared at me in silence for a moment. "I'm going to blow my brains out. It's going to be messy so you should leave."

"I'm not leaving."

We stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, the phone rang startling us both. My dad answered and grunted a few times. Behind me the front door opened and the sheriff came in.

My dad and I were locked in another staring contest. When the sheriff spoke it was far too loud and far too upbeat in that quiet oppressive room.

"Hi there young lady! Your dad and I need to talk! How about you go outside and play for a little while!"

My eyes never left my dad's face as I shook my head, "No."

The sheriff signaled to a deputy who had been standing unnoticed by the door. The deputy picked me up and carried me out. I didn't struggle or make a sound. I just craned my neck trying to see my dad for as long as I could.

The deputy placed me on the front porch of the neighbor who lived across from us. He told me to stay put while they took care of my dad. I knew there would be no way I could sneak back in so I just stood there with my toes curled over the cement. I never took my eyes off my front door.

I don't know how long I stood there watching. I recall my neighbors trying to include me in their gathering. They tried to get me to eat some of the chicken they had barbecued but I didn’t feel like I belonged to that world of bright sunshine and laughter. I belonged back in that quiet oppressive room.

My Dad didn’t end his life that day. Eventually they brought him out on a stretcher and took him away for six months. I don’t remember what happened next. I don’t know who went and got my sister. All I remember is feeling empty and alone.

I’ve thought about that day a lot over the years. I was grateful that my Dad didn’t kill himself, but it still left a big scar on my mind.

Years later when I came to know the Lord I asked Him, “Where were you that day? Why did I have to go through that alone?”

He spoke to my heart.

“You were never alone. I was with you the whole time. I cleared the way for you to get inside. I stood with you as you faced him. I protected you from him and I kept him from being killed. When you cried, I cried with you. And I wiped your tears.”

“For I know the thoughts that I think toward you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope.” Jeremiah 29:11

His scars healed mine. I now live in a world of bright Sonshine and laughter.

Joshua

Sleepy...

As I watch his small sleeping form I'm overcome with love for this child. He looks so peaceful and sweet. I know soon he will wake up and make his presence known. He will bite the dog because she licked him. He will get his sisters yelling in exasperation. He will demonstrate what a little imp he is.

But for now he is at rest. I want so much to pick up his little warm body and snuggle him. I know he would wiggle into a cozy position and wrap one skinny arm around my neck. I would probably even hear a sleepy "I love you Mommy."

I am so tempted.

But he would not stay snuggly. The little imp would return. He would flash his dimple at me as he scampered off to find some new mischief. I love to see what he will do next. But I want to savor this peacefulness, so I let him sleep. I watch him. I have to at least touch him, so I gently stroke his head.

I think about my Father who watches me sleep. Who loves me like this and more. I am amazed that He could love someone like me. He knows I am an imp too. Yet He waits for me to wake up. He wants to show me new things. He wants to watch me explore this world He made. He waits for my sleepy "I love you Father."

"...His tender mercies are over all His works..." Psalm 145:9

Not Good Enough...

Am I the only one who ever feels not good enough?

I'm reading all of these books right now about being a better parent, a better wife, a godly woman and a spiritual leader. Not to mention a model homeschooler. I'm told to follow these easy steps and do those formula's and my children will be perfect! If I just remember to do this thing and act that way my marriage will be fabulous! If I'm organized just so and have exactly that type of devotional routine I will be the Proverbs 31 woman! Don't get me wrong, these are excellent books with a lot of good practical information.

But I read them and see how far short I fall.

And I think I will never be able to live up to all these expectations.

When did I stop resting and start striving? Trying to do all these things in my own power is like trying to shave my legs without taking the cap off the razor. I keep scraping and scraping hoping to make some progress but nothing happens except my arm gets tired!

And right now, I am tired. I picked a fight with my husband in the parking lot when we were supposed to be at a parenting class (that we never made it to!) I snapped at my kids quite a few times yesterday and today isn't starting out a whole lot different. Organization for me consists of several piles (although in my defense I do know what's in them. Well, mostly.)

I have forgotten that I can't do anything on my own. But there is one through whom I can do all things, because He is my strength.

I do not have to be the perfect wife or the perfect mother. I can be a little disorganized and have to many dog hairs on my rug because I didn't get around to vacuuming yet. If my devotional time consists of just being with the One who loves me and listening to Him then the other things will come into focus. He is good and He loves me just the way I am.

Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for you souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light. Mathew 11:28-30

mmmmm.... 

Directions...

I have a friend who is an excellent cook. When I know she's coming to a potluck I make sure I'm first in line to sample whatever diet unfriendly dish she's contributed. Baking however is another matter. Several years ago she decided to bake some cookies. She got her recipe, gathered her ingredients and set to work. When those cookies came out of the oven she couldn't wait to taste one. They looked perfect! When they were finally cool enough she bit into one of those golden brown beauties....and promptly spit it out! After reviewing all the steps she'd taken in mixing them up she realized that instead of putting in a cup of sugar and a teaspoon of salt, she had used a teaspoon of sugar and a cup of salt!

Tonight while doing our family devotions we were talking about following God's directions and I thought about those cookies. Sometimes I think I know what I'm doing. I guess I think I don't need the directions anymore so I do my own thing. And sometimes it even appears that I was right and everything looks great. But if you don't follow the directions no matter how good it looks at first, that cookie will taste nasty! Gotta love those family devotions; I think I learn more from them than they do!

I'm going to go eat one of the fresh snickerdoodles that I made today 'cause I did follow the directions and they are goooooood! :)

Wax Dummies

On Monday we went to Victoria B.C. on the Clipper. Oh was it lovely to have a day alone with my husband! I didn’t have to cut food for anyone, no one frantically started yelling that they needed to go potty and we went into cute little shops that had all sorts of breakable items in them without a care in the world! Top that off with a Caramel Frappaccino and the pecan chocolate caramel butter torte thingy that we shared and you have an almost perfect day! (It wasn’t quite perfect because I had to get up at the unreasonable hour of 4:30 a.m.!)

While we were there we visited the Royal London Wax Museum. I had never been to one before and let me just say I was fascinated. We saw British royalty, early American settlers, Napoleon (Bonaparte, not Dynamite!) There was even an entire section that was dedicated to devices of torture that existed in the middle ages. (Interestingly enough most were used by the “church” to punish heretics. I thought it was kind of sad that all those nasty creations were thought up by people who claimed to know God.)

The museum itself was amazing. I could really see the attention to detail that went into these things. The royalty had ornate clothing, jewelry, crowns, scepters; everything you would expect to see if you met the Queen in person. There were laugh lines around the eyes and the men even had hairy knuckles! One of the figures was of George W. Bush and it was so lifelike we’re still not convinced it was a wax figure. (Jon wishes I had taken a picture so we could see if it had red eye or not.)

All of this made me think. I don't want to be just a wax dummy with all the outward appearances of religion but with none of the life. I don't want to stand still and watch the world go by on the other side of the glass because I am to afraid to step out there. I learned early on not to set my sights too high because if you don't have lofty goals you don't have fiery crashes when you miss them!

But I'm not satisfied to be safe any more. I'd rather feel the rush of wind in my face before I burst into flames than nothing at all. I'm stepping out from behind the glass. Care to join me?