Slinky Day

Saturday + a link to a good article = Slinky Day.  

A friend from college, Chrystal, posted this link on her FB page tonight http://www.worldmag.com/articles/17198.    I particularly loved that, while everyone else was posting about college football (it was a big, messy day in the SEC), Chrystal was posting about the glory of God.  What a rebel!

I'm not necessarily anti-football, but it's easy in the South to get a lot more excited about football than about God (yes, the God of the Universe)-- or at least it's easier to express our excitement about football than it is to express our excitement about God. 

  

I'm not ashamed to say that my own family enjoyed the thrill of the Georgia Tech homecoming festivities today......old and new friends were gathered in anticipation, the drum line was pounding out one fantastic rhythm after another, college girls were were fabulous in combinations of gold, white, and navy. 

Our hearts were thumping. We were all eagerly awaiting the arrive of the officer-escorted football team.    We didn't know when, exactly, they would be there, though.   It was "any minute" for a long time. 

Then it caught us off guard.  Suddenly, the authorities swooped in, sirens blaring and lights flashing.  These "heroes" filed, almost regally,  off the motorcoach, into the stadium. 

It was a big deal, and we had fun getting caught up in it all.  

But it whets my appetite for an even bigger deal, and the arrival of Someone even better! 

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight,

The clouds be rolled back as a scroll;

The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend,

Even so, it is well with my soul.

Lost in Translation

When I was in college, I minored in Spanish.  This means that I can introduce myself, inquire for the ladies room, and read most baking directions in Spanish.  

I am by no means fluent.  Not in my wildest dreams.  

In fact, my lack of fluency is confirmed several times a week in my efforts to converse with my elderly Cuban neighbor, Ana.  

Just this week, for example, Ana pulled me aside and asked me, with a serious but compassionate look, if everything was ok in my marriage.   I was puzzled. 

Turns out I had told her earlier that my husband had left us to go spend the night with his parents.  I'm not sure how I misconveyed that information, but it's really my two-year-old who spent the night with my in-laws. The husband stayed right here where he belongs, and we remain happily married.  (So everyone can rest easy -- no need to call Dr. Phil just yet.) 

Although it's sometimes uncomfortable, it doesn't surprise me that Ana and I have an occasional conversational mix-up; her English is about as good as my Spanish, which means we rely on a lot of hand gestures and cut each other a lot of slack.   I have come to expect that we'll have a little snafu from time to time.  

But doesn't it often surprise us when we miscommunicate with those who look, act, and speak seemingly just like us?   Aren't we sometimes confused and hurt when things get lost in translation, even among people who are technically speaking the same language (and maybe even living under the same roof)?

The meant-to-be-funny email comes off as 'snippy' due to absence of facial expression. The simple request for a clean shirt sounds like a shrill demand because of Mom's exhaustion (hypothetically speaking, of course :-) ). The kind offer to take a neighbor's children to church seems nosy and pushy due to preconceived ideas of religion.

And Satan loves to tangle us up -- especially Christians with Christians -- just by causing us to misconstrue simple words and actions. Roommates quarrel. Friends become suspicious. Spouses stop believing the best.

It's hard to always love one another so well with our words that there is no room for suspicion and misunderstanding. It's hard to always lay our egos aside and not be the suspicious or easily offended ones.   It's hard to always love the glory of God more than we love ourselves.

Humans are touchy. We tend to thrive on approval, and our appetites are insatiable. Only until we can completely revel in the approval of the King of the Universe will we be free to find our significance in Him alone.   And then, whatever is lost in our less-pleasant interactions with others will pale in comparison to what we gain by seeing and savoring Christ.  

This is my prayer (this week at least) for my relationships:  that I may be so enraptured with the glory of God and His coming kingdom that I will forget myself and love Him and those around me with abandon.....that I will gladly lose my life in order to find it.  

May we live for and love the glory of God more each day.  And may we long for the day when Christ will return and make set all things right!

(And may you never accidentally tell your elderly Cuban neighbor that you took your husband to get neutered. True story. Oops! :-).)

A Fresh Perspective

Speaking of perspective......Trent was gone over the weekend to an event planned to give college students a little perspective.  The event was called:

They got away, indeed.  And they may have frozen a little bit (one student, who left his tootsies au naturale in an open-air cabin,  actually started experiencing frost bite symptoms -- we are thankful that all ten digits are still intact and attached).

For the most part, though, the students and campus ministry staff found the cool weather refreshing, and they enjoyed having their minds and hearts refreshed as well.   It always surprises me how much leaving your daily surroundings, even for a few hours, can impart valuable perspective.  

Like us, many of our students spend every day of the week in the concrete jungle.   And like it or not, the din of trucks, horns, and sirens is the soundtrack accompanying our daily lives. 

Add to this the reality that (in the city) we are constantly interacting with strangers, but we have little time to spend with people we actually know, and getting away to the country for two days with real friends becomes quite a treat.

The staff and students on Fall Getaway got to do this: 

and this (notice the green space): 

and this, and this and this: 

And of course, they were able to soak in hours of God's Word, brought to them by:

Justin.  

The fun connection with Justin is that he came to know the Lord when he was a student involved in our ministry (back in the 1900s :-)).   About 13 years have passed since then, and Justin, along with his wife and son, is now planting a church not too far from us.  What a privilege it is to see God change Justin's life and now change the lives of others through him!

But back to Fall Getaway.    The students gathered.  

   They listened, took notes, sang, prayed, and meditated.   Sorry -- no photo of those activities!

But I do have photos of these activities:  

Not sure what's going on here, but the guy at the mic is named Cecil.  The girl in the white hoodie seems amused, so I'm guessing that Cecil is saying something funny.  

And I don't know this guy's name, but I do know that those bags he's sporting don't even remotely qualify as "man bags."  Sorry, guy.  It looks like he's having fun, though.  Way to be a good sport, Guy Wearing Purses! 

As Trent was looking at the pictures on this post, he started telling story after story about these students....of lives changed, students praying for unbelieving parents, students sharing Christ in hard places.....of the Lord and His work.   

You can find some of those stories soon on his blog:  GTcrossroads.blogspot.com

Perspective

I'm an idealist, so I like for my life and plans and dreams to carry on without problems.  And when I do have problems, I tend to be easily overwhelmed.  I heard an author/speaker* last spring who said her "boat is easily capsized."  I can relate.  

My husband sometimes has to remind me that we live in a fallen world.  In fact, recently he told me,  "I think you need to accept the fact that Eve at the apple."  (His seminary training is proving useful :-)).  

Picturing Eve taking that fateful bite is a wonderful reminder that this Earth is not our home.  That on that "very sad day"** this world was forever broken, tainted, and diseased, and it won't be repaired, cleansed, and healed fully until Jesus comes back in glory (come quickly, Lord!).

So in the meantime, keeping in mind that one day all will be made right, it is also helpful for me to keep my "problems" in perspective.  

A couple of months ago one of my daughters had an appendectomy which required a two-night stay at the children's hospital.  (If you want perspective, visit a hospital full of very sick children.)  I almost felt embarrassed that we were taking up a bed for a mere appendectomy.  

After I slipped out of the room one morning to grab a cup of coffee, I ran into a college friend at the "cafe."  It was good to see her, and the even greater news was that her daughter was there for a "mere" tonsillectomy.   She leaned in and said, "Yeah.  This is the kind of place that reminds you that if everyone put their problems out on the table, you'd take yours back in a heartbeat." 

Very true for most of us.  

I do have a few friends going through some truly horrendous valleys right now, so I don't want to make light of those kinds of problems.  And many others around the world right now are suffering tremendously, both for the sake of Christ and just because of this fallen world.  Their pain and suffereing are real and horrific.

But for the most part, I could do with remembering how small my problems are and how big God is.  (Is there anything too difficult for the Lord? Gen 18:14)

So here's a little science lesson that fascinated me.   (An aside:  Do you to remember "My Very Eager Mother Just Served Us Nine Pickles"?  My husband learned "Nine Pizzas," but he is from a wealthy suburb of the big city.  Of course moms were serving up nine pizzas up there.   I am from a small town.  We only had pickles.)

As you can see, this is a picture of the Earth along with some of its planetary pals. 

Earth looks pretty good from this perspective.   It's the largest planet, but not so much larger as to be gauche.  It's definitely the best, and it's tastefully done -- none of that excessive fire/gas action that Venus is dealing with.  

But along come Jupiter and Saturn.  

....and Uranus and Neptune for that matter.   (Who knew that Neptune was such a big, blue bruiser?) 

.  

 Earth is not the big kid on the block anymore.  Not even remotely.  I guess I've known for about 25 years that Jupiter and Saturn were the big guys.....I'm just never fullycomprehended the magnitude, though.  Wow. 

But watch out, Jupiter.  

Incredible.  Earth is a speck!    If Earth were my earring back, and I dropped it on my floor, I would never find it. 

But, wait.  There's more.

Now the teeny tiny gobstopper on the far left is our sun.   These others are larger stars.  Earth doesn't even make it on this picture -- or maybe it does, it's too small to be seen with the naked eye anyway.  

So, if God is bigger, wiser, better, kinder, more powerful and more just than I can ever comprehend, what does this mean about most of my problems?  

*Elizabeth Musser

**The Big Picture Bible

The Lady with the Brownies

Fifteen years ago, as a college freshman, I sat in a fraternity   suite at a semi-secret meeting, when a lady walked in with a pan of brownies.  She was there, with some other very old people (all at least 25 years old -- nearly senior citizens, really), to help us start a new Christian group at our very large, very un-Christian, university.

Although I discovered later that she really had more of an affinity for middle-of-the-night tater tots, Sandy, this lady with the baked goods, was dutiful in bringing her brownies to every meeting .  What Sandy was actually bringing into our lives, though,  was the truth and love of Christ. 

It was the mid-90s.   Hiking boots were a fashion statement.  Grunge ruled the airwaves.  Apathy was in style.  Undeterred, Sandy,  her Vera Bradley bags, and her co-workers, could be found all over our little college town talking about things that were not of this world.   They were discussing scripture, giving out slinkys, going through tracts, publicizing meetings, doling out pizza -- whatever it took to see the spiritually sleep-heavy eyes of young students opened to the truth of God.

Sandy and crew were a small group of full-grown adults, daily laying down their lives (and many times their dignity) in order that some might be saved. Seeking inroads for the gospel, these people with college degrees and extensive ministry training would knock on fraternity and sorority doors cold-call style, seemingly at the mercy of whomever answered.  Often these ministers were politely refused or just flatly denied by twenty-year-olds who thought they knew everything (but who didn't even have a remote clue about the most important things). Still, Sandy and her friends persisted.  

From Waffle House to cofffee shop, and from dorm room to sorority parlor, Sandy and the other campus ministers faithfully met with me and scores of my peers in small Bible studies, large Bible studies, and God-please-let-somebody-show-up Bible studies.  

Sometimes we stood them up.  Sometimes we spent the whole time talking about our boyfriends, or lack thereof.   And I was particularly fond of questions like, "What about the people in Africa who have never heard about God?"   (Those questions were always big crowd-pleasers in the sorority Bible studies.) Still, Sandy and her friends patiently answered our questions and gave us the truth. 

Sandy and her co-laborers lived in small apartments.  They drove less-than-top-of-the-line cars.  They made ends meet on a support-raised salaries.   They chose to call "home" a town with approximately nine other single people their age. 

And still, this little band of missionaries did it.  They consistently made sacrifices, large and small, in an effort to make Christ's name known and celebrated on our campus.   They knew the Lord and His glory were worthy of being known and celebrated on Greek row, regardless of the immediate and tangible results. 

Well, it's been a decade and a half. 

Fifteen years have passed since they knocked on the first door.  

Are there any tangible results?  

I don't have stats, but I have a picture.   I can picture the faces of countless students whose lives were changed as they (eventually) sat by hundreds in packed-out rooms listening to the Gospel preached.  I know dozens who are in some kind of full-time Christian work because of those first seeds planted in 1995.  I know or have heard of hundreds more who are walking with the Lord in their marketplace jobs, their communities, and their families because someone knocked on their fraternity, sorority, or dorm room doors. 

The power of the gospel through a handful of lives changed a few more and then a few more. 

The Lord took a small team of young, nervous, but faithful ministers and used them to start a movement that has had spiritual influence not only throughout our area of the country, but in Asia, Russia, and many other parts of the world. 

Thank you Sandy.  Thank you for believing the Lord and for not giving up on us.  Thank you for becoming "all things to all men so that by all possible means, some might be saved."* I look forward to writing about the other members of your team soon, but today, on this occasion of your wedding, I'm glad to celebrate you.  We give thanks to the Lord for this new chapter in your life.

Best wishes you and congratulations to John. We love you!

* 1 Corinthians 9:22

Our New Friend Polly

October is fabulous.   During the past few years, I have begun to marvel at the Lord's wisdom in giving us seasons....seasons of the year, seasons of life, seasons of busyness, seasons of contentment.   He gives good gifts to His children.

This year we are welcoming the Fall with a new friend -- Polly.   Polly brings us Fall cheer, greets visitors, and scares the crows away from our dead plants.  She's very helpful 

The only problem with Polly is that she's a bit of a  fainter.  

I think she needs more protein for breakfast.  

 

John Oliver Lantern

This is John Oliver Lantern. We call him 'Jack' (get it?).

Lots of neighborhood cats shortcut through our courtyard, but most of them are skittish and don't really want a relationship with us. Jack is different...... or so I thought.

Jack showed up on our porch last week, and instead of running away from the humans, he came toward us. He wanted to be petted and cuddled, and he purred to let me know that. He even let K., the two-year-old pet him.

He also seemed hungry, so I dug up a little something for him.

Yes, that's Hormel chunk ham. Jack has a discerning palate.

When K. and I returned from parents' morning out last Tuesday after feeding him once, Jack was still there, resting cat-fashion in the shade on our porch. Jack had seemingly become a member of the family; we offered a can of tuna as a welcome gift.

When I returned later in the afternoon with the big girls, Jack was still there, in a different spot on the porch. A lot of giggling, leaping and chasing ensued. Jack was celebrated, and as he seemed to be a stray, we even put an old collar with a heart-shaped tag on him.

But after homework time, Jack was gone. We called and called. We looked. We whistled. We poured milk. No Jack. We kept our eyes peeled over the next few days, searching and calling in vain.

But yesterday, exactly one week later, Jack was back. I shot him straight, "What's the deal, Jack? Where have you been, Jack? What about the ham and the tuna, Jack?"  Jack had no answers for me, but he came running to me like he had never left, purring and snuggling.   I gave him some more ham.

So maybe Jack is a stray and has a neighborhood schedule that allows him to come to our house on Tuesdays? Or maybe he really does have owners, but the are regularly incapacitated on Tuesdays, and he has to go begging?  

I'm not sure what's going on with Jack, but I have the feeling he doesn't really love me for me.   He loves me for my processed meat.   That's what draws him, and it's only when he can't get good meat from other sources that he sallies up to our porch, trying to charm us out of canned goods. 

All of this Jack drama just happens to remind me of a fantastic sermon I heard recently.   Do we love God?   Or do we love the gifts God gives us? (Or something to that effect.)  Before you write this off as old hat, let me share the specific gift the pastor warned against valuing too much:   grace.   Yikes!  This sounds nearly heretical, doesn't it -- how can we value grace too much?

The question is, do we worship God, in all his holiness, wrath, wisdom, goodness, indiscernible ways, and (yes) grace and love?  Or do we worship the grace?   Do we single out one of God's precious gifts and exalt it above the Giver?

As David Platt writes in Radical:  We live in a church culture that has a dangerous tendency to disconnect the grace of God from the glory of God. Our hearts resonate with the idea of enjoying God's grace.   We bask in sermons, conferences, and books that  exalt a grace centered on us.   And while the wonder of grace is worthy of our attention, if that grace is disconnected from its purpose [glorifying God], the sad result is a self-centered Christianity that bypasses the heart of God.  

Oh, there's so much more to be said on this topic, but I think Jack and Platt make a good team, and I'll leave it at that.  

"The heavens declare the glory of God. The skies proclaim the work of His hands."  Psalm 19:1  May we do the same!

PS -- Dr. Paul Gardner's sermon, to which I refer, can be found at http://christchurchatlanta.org/section/resources/sermon-audio/page/2 .  The title is "Gospel Grace" (August 15, 2010)

Pretty Provision

When I was in the fifth grade, I took tap, ballet, clogging, and piano lessons; I also participated in girl scouts, 4H, and church activities. I may have been a wee bit over-scheduled.

My point is, though, that I distinctly remember clogging lessons being $5/month and piano lessons being $24/month. I think ballet and tap were another $25/month or so. Most of the other stuff was nearly free. So while I may have driven my parents crazy with the schedule that year, it was only costing them $54/month.....a small price for keeping a busy bee occupied.

Fast forward 20+ years, and go from a town of 5,000 to a city of five million. Wow. The price of piano lessons ain't what it used to be. For one of our children to take only piano now would be $140 - $175/month!

Needless to say, we nearly approach choosing extra-curricular activities with prayer and fasting. (We DO pray.....we haven't fasted about lessons yet, but I wouldn't be surprised to see that come down the pipe.)

Our oldest daughter is the same little busy bee that I was (probably more so) and has narrowed down her desired list of activities to: soccer, girl scouts, piano, violin, ballet, art, gymnastics and sign language. And I feel sure I'm forgetting something. So we are constantly putting her off or flat-out saying no to her because of both the cost and the time involved with all of these activities.

However, at the beginning of the summer we decided to try ballet for this school year. There is a lovely Christian ballet program not too far from our house which is relatively affordable. Both girls would have been in the same class, and S. would have had the chance to meet some more girls (she's one of only two in her grade at school).

I excitedly emailed the teacher, asking about the details. I was going to put them in the week-long summer ballet camp in order to catch them up a little, and it was going to work out great with our schedule. It was all a 'go.'

As the sign-up deadline approached, though, I felt a hesitancy. It was unexplainable. It was all working out on paper, but for some reason I couldn't shake the feeling that I was rushing ahead of the Lord in this matter. I felt like I was taking matters into my own hands instead of waiting for His provision. Of course, this was the provision as far as I knew, but inside I kept hearing 'wait.'

Well, we were coming down to the wire -- one day before the ballet camp deadline, and I was thinking, "I just need to sign them up. What's the big deal?" Was I just procrastinating?

Then I got the call. This sweet lady in our church called to tell me our church was starting a ballet program. Would I help? The cost would be $80 for the entire year -- for both girls. "Hmmm......," I thought. "Yes. Yes, I think I can swing $80/year for ballet lessons five minutes from our house." (And the short commute is a big deal in this neck of the woods.)

As it turns out, we had a pretty big response to this new ballet program, so instead of just helping with a class, I am 'teaching' my own 4-6 year old ballet class. And I'm actually getting paid a little for it! But the rewards of teaching these precious girls is payment enough.......look at these faces!

I am so thankful that the Lord said, "wait," even when I didn't understand why or what. And it is only by his grace that I listened and obeyed (I am usually all too eager to rush ahead with my own plans). If I had just followed my own plans and ignored that still, small voice, I would have not only ended up spending money I don' have (due to an unexpected appendectomy in the family), but I would have missed out on all these little toes. And what cute toes they are!

PS -- My husband just read this post and said, "Yes, you forgot that S. also wants to do tennis and cross country." Guess he'll have to coach one of those next year :-).

Orphans

Last Friday morning Trent and I had the rare opportunity to go to the gym on campus together. S and L were at school. K was at parents' morning out. And Trent and I actually had a conversation or two. It was amazing!

After we had worked out hard for thirty five minutes or so (we're total animals), we strolled through the gym lobby which overlooks the fitness area.

I took a deep breath and said, "All of our kids are in school right now. Wow!" And Trent looked down at the empty treadmills and said, "Yeah. I guess they all have ten o'clock classes."

I laughed. "No, I mean our biological children are in school. But yes, it looks like our Georgia Tech children are somewhere else too."

Our exchange reminded me of God's specific ministry call on our lives. Why did He compel us (the McEntyres), four years ago, to leave a great neighborhood and lots of friends in order to live one block from Georgia Tech? Was it just for the 'cool' city life? (We actually prefer the country.) Was it for a better house? (Our current house is older than our first....and has bars on the windows.) Was it for the 'night life'? (Umm....I'm in bed by 10pm.)

God moved us down here to be spiritual parents. He called us to be father and mother to students who have no Christian father and mother. He called us to pray for students who have no praying parents. He called us to preach the Word to students who have never seen their biological parents open a Bible.

God moved us down here to minister to the spiritual orphans of Georgia Tech. He sets the lonely in families (Ps. 68:6).

Of course we won't even meet all the spiritual orphans on this campus of 20,000, but we are called to meet many. Just like caring for biological children, we are called to love these children and lay down our lives for them. And we are thankful that we don't do this alone......we are just a small part of Go

d's plan for this campus.

Please join us in praying for the spiritual orphans of Georgia Tech. Pray that by the time they graduate and become the leaders of our city, nation, and world, many will know the love of the true Father.

"But when the fullness of time had come, God sent forth his Son, born of woman, born under the law to redeem those who were under the law, so that we might receive adoption as sons." Galatians 4:4&5

Love Thy Neighbor

Each Spring the students at our girls' school have to complete a "service project" of their choosing. The parameters are pretty broad, and most people just jump in with something else that's already in motion like serving at a meal to those in need, collecting items for a shelter, etc. A few with heartier and more intrepid parents do things like spend the night in a shelter or set up a lemonade stand and donate the proceeds to charity.

Since I'm feeling neither hearty nor intrepid these days, I was really strict when I gave Samantha the options for her project. I told her it had to be something for which we didn't need a car. In true Samantha style, she suggested we invite the entire neighborhood (1,000 people?) to a picnic in the park and prepare all the food. I gave that one the gong.

In the end, we came up with, "Keep Calhoun Street Neat and Sweet," a campaign involving picking up trash on our block and delivering cupcakes to our neighbors. And it was really awesome. Our neighborhood happened to have a clean-up day for our block, and we latched onto that without hesitation. Three days later we whipped up some festive-looking cupcakes (my house is still covered in chocolate), and delivered them to Beryl, Donna, Matt&Lacy, Dusty, three Georgia Tech students smoking on their porch, and Anna & Miguel (our neighbors who escaped Cuba about 40 years ago). The neighbors were all pleasantly surprised, and several commented that it was about time someone spread some cheer around here (or something to that effect :-)).

So you would think that Samantha would be pleased with those results, right? Well, Samantha looked like Eeyore this afternoon as she thought back to her service project. A lot of her friends manned lemonade stands with the proceeds going to Haitian relief, and that was the project she envisioned herself undertaking when we started. (You see, a lemonade stand is the pinnacle of cool activities when you're seven. Mixing a drink with loads of sugar, painting huge signs, handling other people's money... And Haiti is an entire country. In Samantha's mind, the Lemonade-for-Haiti projects completely trumped her Cupcakes-for-the-Neighbors project.)

At first I was frustrated that Samantha was so mopey about her project. Wanting her to snap out of it, I started down a general track of, "Samantha, your project was good....Don't be disappointed....It's not right for you to not like it; you did a great job....It was really fun, etc. etc." Then I realized that I was of the same frame of mind as Samantha. Was the project good enough for us? Was it fun enough for us? Was it the project that made us feel good?

The project wasn't about us. I stopped myself and called Samantha to my side.

I said, "Samantha, a lot of people are helping Haiti right now. Tell me. Who do you think is helping Beryl right now?" (Beryl is a divorced lady who lives behind us in a cinder-block house. Her only son is away at college.) "No one else is helping Beryl," Samantha said, with a surprised look on her face.

"Who do you think is helping Donna?" (A recently-widowed neighbor around the corner.) "Just me," Samantha said, brightening.

"Anna?" (An elderly lady who speaks mostly Spanish and would eat my girls with a spoon if she could.) "We are," Samantha piped, bouncing away satisfied.

When she finally thought about others, she finally got over herself. I think I'll need to tuck that one away :-).

One Body, Many Parts



Nagib and Trent

 ""Now you are the body of Christ, and each one of you is a part of it...." This beautiful passage in 1 Corinthians 12 goes on to describe the body of Christ as made up of "apostles, prophets, teachers..." etc.

What about grillers? College students are hungry, and we often find ourselves praying, teaching, and feeding them into the Kingdom (by the Lord's grace).

This also reminds me of 1 Corinthians 9:23 "I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some." Please pray that we would live sacrificially among college students that some might be saved for the Lord's glory!

Praying for Anne Jackson

It only takes a moment -- an instant, a second -- for your life to be turned upside down. Our friends, the Jacksons, experienced that last week when Kathryn (the mom) and her three children were in a terrible car accident. We are thankful that no lives were lost, but five-year-old Anne is still in the hospital in critical condition.

Please pray for the Jacksons! Pray that Anne would wake up from her coma and that she would regain all function.

Happy Birthday, Kathryn (and Papa John, and Uncle Jason, and Mama Mac, and Aunt Emily!)

Peek-a-boo! Guess who's two??

Thus far, Kathryn is a woman of few words, but she sufficiently giggled and squealed her way through round one of her 2nd birthday celebration. I would be hard pressed to say which gift was her favorite since she seems to get equally worked up about toys and clothes, but she has definitely spent a lot of time with her alphabet blocks and her shape-sorter barn.

I'm pretty sure Aunt Whitney's favorite gift was the Choo Choo Soul CD. Not surprisingly, strains of "I Like Choc-o-late" could be heard around this place for days.

Looking forward to celebrating lots more birthdays with the McEntyres in a few days!

Happy Birthday, Baby Kathryn!

Water Under the Bridge

So a little water has gone under the bridge since the last post, which was over four years ago! (Seeing how young everyone was in those posts is actually the motivation for getting back on the blogging wagon -- great memories!)

The last time I posted:

Langley was one and Samantha was three

Trent was in his 30s

I was in my 20s

We lived on Iroquois Path

The housing market was booming

AIG was going strong

Stamps were 38 cents (I just made that one up, but it might be true)

Only people overseas used text messaging

Only college students used Facebook

No one had ever heard of Barack Obama or Sarah Palin

Jim and Pam were not even dating

Michael Jackson was alive

It's been a long four years. Glad to be back in the saddle!

This car is for sale! 1994 Nissan Altima GXE -- Loaded!

More JingleBashing

Trent and I were in a swing "dance-off" at JingleBash. It had been about five years since we had attempted most of our dance stunts, and many of them this past weekend were executed in seemingly slow motion. Even though we could hear laughter from our fellow staff members in the background, and even though our lungs were burning, we did not give up, dancing heartily until the end of the song.

While I was resting back at my table, a cute, young, small college girl came up to me and said, "You guys were great. Did you used to dance like that when you were young? You have two kids, don't you? I hope that when I have two kids, I'll remember that woman with the two kids who could still dance."

I smiled and thanked her. Trent and I just slow danced the rest of the night, then hobbled out to go home and soak our feet....and our dentures.

Busy Weekend!

This past weekend was the busiest of the whole holiday season for us. We had seven events, plus church, plus making an offer on a house (which was flatly rejected). Here are some pics., one of Trent and Emily at "JingleBash," (our Crusade party), one of Samantha at the Center for Pupetry Arts, and one of Samantha, Langley, and their cousins at Trent's parents' house.

Smile for the Camera!

Langley says, "Cheese!"

and, "Cheese!"

...and, "Cheese!"