Rerouted in Boise

If GPS voices could really say what they felt when you missed a turn, one recent night in Boise, the unit in my rental car would have been screaming, “Hey, dummy, it’s that way!!! Turn right, turn right!!!! OK, you missed it again. Sigh.”

For some reason, following a lovely dinner with my daughter, I couldn’t seem to find my way back to the hotel.

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I don’t know when, exactly, my Mamaw was saved.  By the time I was born she was 41 and never missed a Sunday at Friendship Missionary Baptist Church. Her husband only attended with her on the rarest of occasions (the odd Easter would find him haunting the door with the other men, looking vaguely uncomfortable in a suit and tie) but that I know of, he never spoke against her faithful attendance at Sunday School, then the preaching, and the pastor greeting afterward, and maybe even a potluck. She may have felt lonely those years when she sat in the pew alone, but by the time I was old enough to wear white patent leather shoes, I was right there with her most weeks.

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When you can’t

For the second time this year, I can’t.

I can’t hoist a two year-old onto my hip and scale the stairs.

I can’t stand at the stove and make dinner.

I can’t get down in the floor and stack Lincoln Logs.

I can’t throw clothes into the washer.

I can’t lift my baby.

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Hurricane Joaquin: What to eat for breakfast?

Hurricane Joaquin is heading our way. Or not.

It just depends on which of the 20-plus scenarios your favorite weather forecaster is offering at the moment on this Category 4 storm with sustained winds of 130 mph.
In some circles (which you can read as my older boys), it would be one of the coolest things ever for a hurricane to drop right here and wreak havoc. Newbies to the South and its perennial hurricane watches, they think it means the cooler weather and rain-like conditions they’re used to getting in the Pacific Northwest.

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Even surgery can’t stop God’s work in Nepal

There are a lot of things that have stood in the way of our work in Nepal. Now we can add emergency surgery.
Already out of town and hours away from flying to Nepal, suddenly I found myself postponing flights and booking return passage home as my beautiful wife alerted me to the fact that not only was she at the hospital but preparing for emergency surgery to remove her gallbladder.
Just the day before, I had been having a wonderful visit with our daughter, Mary Hannah, in Boise, ID, celebrating her 18th birthday. Not long after, instead of boarding planes to Vancouver to begin my flights to Nepal, I was heading to Denver, praying that my wife’s surgery would be a success and that news of that success would be awaiting me when I landed.

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The first last

Mary Hannah,

It’s been a few weeks now since you left. And while I can’t say that I miss you any less than I did those first few days, there’s something normal, something rhythmic about the missing you now that feels familiar enough to not catch me off guard quite as quickly quite as often. I’m glad– because less hurt is always good– but it makes me sad, too.

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Let there be ART

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We celebrated Christopher’s birthday with a family trip to a local art museum. If you know us in real life, you know that my husband and I did the bulk of our dating at an art gallery, and that when we have the chance to visit a new area, one of the things we’re most likely to look for are spaces where we can see art. We are also the kind of family who thinks it’s good fun to gather around the table, each with his own supplies, and create.

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