Saturday, August 29, 2009
I appreciate my husband. I do. But every once in a while he does extra good, you know?
Well, starting the week off with buying me a laptop, that was pretty good. But he might have even bested that.
A couple of weeks ago I noticed the floor around the dishwasher was buckling, so I mentioned it to him (and to the kids who got a bit of a lecture about why you shouldn't let water stand on a laminate floor).
Night before last, the hubby crawled under the house to look for leaks. None. (Whew!)
Then he tore up the floor to look for leaks and here's what he found. (Yikes!)
Here's where the hero part comes in. Yesterday, he ran a dehumidifier to suck up all that moisture (a gallon or more) and this morning he installed a new floor. Just like that!
And to top things off, he took me out to a French movie this afternoon. (Ahh!)
AND, we get to use it as a teachable moment. The kids are learning to wash dishes by hand!
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
My husband believes in tools. He has 2 band saws, a planer, a table saw, a skill saw, and more hand tools than I can count. He's a builder, so he needs and used them all. If I need to use one of his tools, forget about finding the right one for the job. I finally bought myself a basic set of screw drivers, hammer, and tape measure so I don't have to go sorting through his things and messing them up.
As a builder, he knows how important it is for him to have his tools ready and in usable shape. And, lucky for me, he thinks I deserve the same.
So, last week, he surprised me with a new tool for my birthday-- a functioning, usable laptop. I'm already getting spoiled. It doesn't shut down unexpectedly, it stays connected to the Internet, and it keeps its charge.
My old computer is getting an overhaul to be made usable for the rest of the family. As for me, I'm super thankful for my new tool!
Saturday, August 15, 2009
Vicki King Thompson died peacefully in her sleep on Friday. The news of her death comes as a great shock to all of us who know her.
Vicki's body didn't form the same way most of ours did and she spent most of her hours in a wheel chair or in bed. Her short legs never learned to walk, but that didn't slow Vicki down a bit. You could tell that from her email moniker - Hot Wheels Vic. She was always in the middle of things, giving advice, greeting everyone, and - above all - asking for prayers for those she loved.
If you knew Vicki, I guarantee she's asked someone else to pray for you. She found great power in prayer and comfort in having other people pray with her. Hardly a Sunday went by without her asking for prayers for a niece, a cousin, a co-worker, a friend. And especially for her mom. I believe it was Vicki's greatest joy to see her mother give her life to Christ earlier this year.
The kids loved Vicki, from the little ones in her Sunday School classes to those she met in the lobby. She was just their size, sitting in her wheelchair, and she loved our kids like they were part of her family. One of my very favorite pictures is one of Vicki holding one of my twins just after the babies came home from the hospital. Vicki's arms were weak, but she could handle those 4 pounds, at least for a few seconds. Even recently, she reminded me, "Remember how I almost dropped your baby?" but I always knew it was special for her to get to hold her, one of the only babies small enough to rest in her arms.
I have a hundred stories to tell, and you probably do, too. I hope we can share them together at her memorial later this week.
Tonight, though, I can't help thinking about Vicki climbing all over heaven's playground, swinging high up in the air, scurrying across the monkey bars and dancing in the freedom of her new-found perfection. Save a spot on the swing set for me, Vicki. I can't wait to play with you.
Monday, August 10, 2009
I'm trying so hard to accept the fact that my beautiful walnut trees belong to the squirrels. If you sit outside, you can hear them munching away, stuffing themselves on MY (I mean "their") green walnuts.
But, come on guys! You don't need to be so greedy. I just saw a squirrel scamper by with 3 - THREE!- walnuts in a cluster sticking out of its mouth.
UNFAIR! I won't even get one.
My other stuff is the same way. Much as I try to let my possessions flow through my hands to whoever needs or wants them, somehow I keep pulling things back and crying "MINE!" I take a deep breath. I loosen my grip. I look for something else to share.
Monday, August 03, 2009
We did vacation Bible school a week ago. I was the village scribe and my job was to help kids write and seal their own parchment scrolls with wax squeezed out through a glue gun. My shop's co-owner, Edna Ruth, helped the youngest market-goers stamp letters into ancient Roman fluorescent play dough.
Our script said we were not Christian. We didn't know anything about the rebel Jew Jesus or why he and his followers were stirring up trouble. We were to ask the kids questions, to learn more as the week progressed.
"Who is this Jesus? Why is Paul in prison? Shouldn't he just give up talking about Jesus so he can be set free?" That was our script.
This is the script Edna Ruth followed, the script of her life--
"Of course I have a god. I know THE God. And his son, Jesus. Have you heard of him? Let me tell you all about him! He's made the biggest difference to my life and I love him with all my heart."
Even play acting, she couldn't say anything other than what she knows to be the truth. And I love her for it.