Friday, August 29, 2014

7 Quick Takes (Volume 290)







Happy Birthday to my BABY! Princess Dawdle turned 16 this week. I still remember these days.


I was worried her birthday was going to be a downer for her now that she's the only kid in our house, but I shouldn't have been. She has some really sweet friends. One girl surprised her by decorating her car.


I was a little nervous watching her take her maiden voyage alone to school. She pretty much captures what I was feeling.


Celebrating with our family was as silly as ever.














The night before school pictures, Princess Dawdle piddled around for HOURS trying to decide what to wear. This girl is no morning glory, let me tell you, so I knew she had to get it decided that night, yet I heard her chatting it up with her friends. At one point she came in with a pair of skinny jeans, while on face time with a friend.

Princess Dawdle (obviously poised to make a point): What color would you say these are?

Kevin: peach

Me: peach or orange

Princess Dawdle (to her iPod): Did you hear that? Peach or orange. NOT pink!

Me: You STILL don't know what you're wearing? What is taking you so long?

Princess Dawdle: The struggle is real, Mom.

Oh brother. You think she's about ready to inherit her sister's name?






I got the kids' guacamole kits done. I think they turned out pretty good.


A special touch was cutting boards made and signed by their grandpa.

Remember me telling you how Ladies Man wanted to start guacamole night in his dorm? When he found out his roommate is a big guacamole fan, he made some his very first night. He's been there one week and already some girl has challenged him to a "guac off."

I think this means I should get some credit for his social success, right?






Every day my iPad gives me a little message from dictionary.com about the word for the day. Normally I don't click over and look at them unless it's a particularly strange word I've never seen before. I HAD to check it out on Wednesday when the word was pulchritudinous.

pulchritudinous: physically beautiful; comely

Now there's a word you can sink your teeth into! I'm a woman who loves specifics. When my husband tells me "you look nice" that does nothing for me. What does that even mean? The pillows on my couch "look nice." I told Princess Dawdle her new steering wheel cover, "looked nice." When I actually clean my house I think it "looks nice." Do I fit in the same category as a couch pillow? (Wait, maybe I don't want an answer to that.)

But if he were to say, "Oh honey, you are absolutely pulchritudinous today" that may turn my crank. Obviously it would mean he had put some thought into it. And it would probably require some extra work learning how to SAY it which means he went the extra mile for me. Plus I love a man with good vocabulary.

How do you suppose I get the dictionary.com app on HIS iPad?






We attended Drama Queen's band exhibition last Friday. I don't know why I get such a kick out of her being the only girl on the snare line, but I do. Here's this year's crew.




Proud of you, babe!







On Saturday we went back to the University to watch The Boyfriend's exhibition as part of Big Red Singers, the show choir at the University of Nebraska. I couldn't believe HOW MUCH DANCING they did! By the end of the performance they were bushed. They literally panted through their last song. You can tell by this picture how taxing it was.


That poor guy was a total sweat bucket! But boy can he dance! He da man!







After the concert, we got a little camera happy. Here's one I love of my mom, me and the girls.


But then things just got ridiculous.








Now that I have sufficiently frightened you, I'm calling it a day. Enjoy your weekend, friends, and find more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Friday, August 22, 2014

7 Quick Takes (Volume 289)







I had a twinge of sadness (that may be putting it mildly) as Ladies Man moved to college yesterday. The week was SO BUSY taking care of last minute things he would need, making sure he was set to succeed, at least as much as it depended on me. We got it all done and moved the boy in and even though he lives less than an hour away it still hurt my heart to leave him there. These kids and what they do to us! I'm so proud of who he's become though and am excited for his future. RAWR, Ladies Man! Go get 'em!









It was bittersweet watching Princess Dawdle and Ladies Man this week. You could see them wanting to make the most of their few days living in the same house. Every time Ladies Man had an errand to run, he'd ask her to go along. And for some reason he was really big on leaving her in good shape with the old car. First he bought her an early birthday present, a steering wheel cover.


Then there was a fob for the old car which broke in the spot you attach it to a key ring. He hasn't been using it, but decided to fix it so she could by drilling a tiny hole in it. Now everyone in the family, except ME, has a fob for remote locks and I have the newest car!

He must have gotten a little drill happy because then he started drilling tiny holes in Lego bricks and making key chains we are all supposed to use.


No worries, Ladies Man. There's no way we'll forget about you, whether we have Legos on our key chains or not.






Kevin and I had a super fun time with Drama Queen and The Boyfriend at a wedding reception last weekend. They got there before us and waited around to sit with us! There were all sorts of kids their age and they wanted to sit with us. I felt so honored.







Drama Queen ran off to see a few friends here and there, leaving her phone sitting at the table. We tried and tried to remember her pass code so we could take a selfie and make it her background. We had the right numbers, but not in the right order. Finally The Boyfriend gave it to us and we got in, but she caught us in the act. We thought we were funny. She thought we were lame, especially when she had to tell us how to make it her background. I guess that makes us old, but we're kinda cute. Kinda. Aren't we? (I've had an emotional week. Just say yes.)







You may have noticed a little change in the blog this week. I'm playing around with making it fresher, cleaner. It desperately needs an update. I stink at this sort of thing and despise doing it. It involves decisions and ugh, don't get me started. I think I may hate it worse than cleaning which is saying a heap ton. It's a work in progress, people. Any good that comes is only at the hand of my beloved husband who patiently endures me saying things like, "I hate that. No. I want something like . . . I'm gonna look like a hack. Too frilly. I've just wrecked everything. No. No. I don't know. This is totally stressing me out!"

Early in our marriage we tried to hang wallpaper in a stairwell. I think that was worse than this venture. I think. In the end we survived it and we're older and wiser now, so we should be okay. As long as I keep breathing and quit overthinking it all. It's a work in progress, but Kevin assures me we'll get there. Thanks for your help, honey!






Our local high school is working on their fall musical. This year they'll be performing The Wizard of Oz. Princess Dawdle has been cast as a tot.

Princess Dawdle: Tots are the ballerina girls that sing "The Lullaby League."

Me: That's good, isn't it?

Princess Dawdle (rolling in her eyes): I'm in there with all these dancer girls. I'm gonna look stupid.

Me: You'll catch on. You do show choir. It's not like you can't dance at all.

Princess Dawdle: That's just a bunch of popping your hips and smiling big. It's not ballet.

Me: You'll be fine.

Princess Dawdle: Ugh. I'd rather be a tree.






We're headed to Memorial Stadium tonight to watch Drama Queen march in the Cornhusker Marching Band Exhibition. She's the only girl on the snare line with eight other boys this fall, but I have no doubt she can handle it. We were texting about it earlier in the week.

Me: Keep those boys in line.

Drama Queen: They got a little tough love yesterday.

Me: What?

Drama Queen: The boys on my side got yelled at a few times yesterday.

Me: Yeah, you can put the smack down all right. RAWR!

Drama Queen: Haha they aren't that scared of me yet.

Me: They should be!

I have home movies that prove that girl was pushing people around at 2 years old. If those boys know what's good for them, they'll stay in line. Drummer Boy can probably corroborate. Right, son?



And thus concludes another saga of the Boesiger Bunch Chronicles. Enjoy your weekend, friends, and catch more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Friday, August 15, 2014

7 Quick Takes (Volume 288)







It's been a big week at the Boesiger house. Change is brewing, my friends. Drama Queen moved out on Monday. (Sigh. Remember, my dear daughter, you can always come home. Just ask Drummer Boy how many times he's heard that phrase.) Princess Dawdle started her sophomore year of high school. And by this time next Friday, Ladies Man will be moved to college too. You ever have a weird uneasiness knowing things are about to be different? Yeah. That's me right now. It's going to be fine and we'll all adjust and go on to live productive, enjoyable lives, but right now it feels ew.






Congratulations to Ladies Man who bought his first car this week!


I was proud of the way he searched vehicles out by himself and contacted the owners, setting up times to test drive vehicles with his dad. After the purchase, I went with him to the courthouse to walk him through the registration process and I wish I could have captured the look on his face when he was all done.

Me: How's that feel to see a title with your name on it? You now own a car. You have an asset!

He just smiled and nodded his head in his charming way. Priceless. I'll never forget it.







While we were at the courthouse, we decided to get Princess Dawdle's driver's license. Yes, my BABY will be a licensed driver in 12 days! How did this happen?!

Even Ladies Man seems a little nervous about the proposition. As she was driving us around town the other day he was giving her unsolicited advice. As the youngest she's used to this sort of thing and didn't really respond, but I came to her defense.

Me: She's gotten a lot better. She's going to be fine. She'll be FINE!

Princess Dawdle: Are you saying that because it's true or are you trying to convince yourself?

Busted. Even though I've done this three times, watching her take that first trip without me is gonna be tough. Be safe, Princess Dawdle. Don't forget to look behind you. Flip your hair around AFTER you get to school, not on the way there.







Now that Ladies Man has his own car, Princess Dawdle inherits the school car he's been driving. The rule at our house is that we'll provide a car for our high-schoolers, but it stays here when they go to college. I love that my kids are not picky when it comes to wheels. Princess Dawdle is thrilled to have her "own" car now even though it's an old Buick LeSabre whose paint is peeling off the trunk. It was super cute when we came home from the courthouse. Ladies Man said his birthday gift to Princess Dawdle would be a full tank of gas. He checked the oil and the tires, and then recruited her help to clean it out (because HELLO! she contributed to the mess in there over the last year). They were having a blast together getting her car all shiny and clean. After I saw it I wished I would have put them on detail for my van!

One thing Ladies Man took from the LeSabre for his own car was a little plastic dinosaur he kept on the dash. They kid that he is a guardian angel of sorts, watching over them as they go from place to place. He and Princess Dawdle have joked around about this thing all year, ribbing each other about who gets to keep "Brock." Ladies Man won out and has already placed him in the new vehicle.


Princes Dawdle found her own, bigger dinosaur and named him Melvin. I don't know what it is about that name, but somehow Melvin doesn't instill as much confidence in me as Brock. Brock is manly, solid. Melvin is . . . well, Melvin. Nonetheless I think it's sweet she wants to perpetuate the tradition and be reminded every day of her brother in that silly dinosaur on her dash.







Thanks for all the anniversary wishes. Kevin and I had a wonderful time hanging out together all day. We went to a charming little movie called The Hundred-Foot Journey. As we entered the theater I pondered the nature of movies.

Me: Why is it that life seems more impressive or meaningful on the big screen? Is it because there's a musical score?

Kevin: Yes, that's true, but I also think it's because it's not your life. People say they'd love to be a fly on the wall in our house, but it's only fun because it isn't their normal.

Yeah. He can be kinda smart and profound at times. He's also a talented composer which makes me think he should write me a musical score for my life. Don't you agree? Suddenly this average homemaker's life would be full of substance and depth. Everyone could sense it in the change of melody. Surely people would laugh and cry and maybe even cheer! How exciting could my life be?!

Hey, get on that, would you Kevin? It would be awesome.






This was the first year since Drummer Boy was a little guy that we've only had one kid in school. Do you know how much easier it is to fill out those first week of school forms when you're only doing it for one child? I got 'em done YESTERDAY, people! Piece of cake, I tell you.

As is tradition in so many families, we had to take a first day of school pic. I flashed back to last year at this time when Princess Dawdle said, "Next year's gonna suck," wondering if it might be an emotional moment, but she was fine and humored me. Look how pretty by baby is getting.


When I took this picture, Princess Dawdle expressed a concern.

Princess Dawdle: What are you gonna do when I leave, Mom? Will I have to send you a selfie?

She's not my only child worried about my sanity after they're all gone. Drama Queen was so sweet on Monday, sending me a text later in the day saying, "I love you!" And she asked her dad to buy me some flowers. Drama Queen, that was so, so sweet. I love it. But I hope you get your money back, because he never bought them. You get all kinds of daughter points for thinking of it though. Your dad, however . . .

You know that Neil Diamond/Barbra Streisand song, "You Don't Bring Me Flowers Any More?" Yeah. That is my husband. He doesn't even bring me flowers when his daughter asks him to do it! (Is the guilt trip working, honey?)






Ladies Man keeps talking about how he's "adulting" which I guess is shorthand for becoming an adult.  If he's adulting what are we? The only word that comes to mind is aging. No. I refuse to go there. Not. Gonna. Do. It.

If you think of it, say a prayer for this mama next week as we have another chick leave the nest. I don't care how many times you do it, each one is a unique loss.

But he'll be fine. He'll be FINE!

Yeah. I saw what I did again. Shhh. A girl's gotta cope.



That's it for today, friends. Have a terrific weekend and read more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Friday, August 08, 2014

7 Quick Takes (Volume 287)







I've been fairly confident that I am handling the aging process pretty well, but apparently I carry a little sensitivity to my advancing years. Normally I'm a fan of K-Love radio, but this week they kinda ticked me off. The announcers were asking people to call in with any stories about "older people doing great things for God." I found myself talking back to the radio. "What do you mean 'older people'? What qualifies as older? What are you saying, that you have to be in your twenties or thirties to have enough energy to serve God well? Of COURSE older people would be better at doing great things for God. They're smarter and have more experience. WHAT DO YOU MEAN?!!"

Yeah, no defensiveness in this "older" chicky, huh?

To be fair to K-Love, they did qualify it later that they were talking about people 65 or older, but I still found it offensive. I don't know too many 65-year-olds who act elderly by any means. Sounds like an idea hatched by a stupid 25-year-old.

But I'm not bitter.






My girls and I have become big fans of Clif bars this summer. They are so quick and easy for breakfast or a midday snack, packed with nutrition and very satisfying. (Hey, any Clif bar executives out there? I could write you a good commercial!). Kevin has steered clear of them. I can only assume it's because he thinks they are a "health food" and thus out of his comfort zone. I have learned the hard way to leave him alone concerning his food choices. At restaurants he generally orders the same dish and no matter of provocation on my part will cause him to expand his horizons. Instead I always manage to annoy him. So when it came to Clif bars, I decided he'd just be missing out.

Imagine my surprise one morning, then, when he pulled out a chocolate chip one for breakfast.

Me: You're eating a Clif bar?!

Kevin: Yeah. So?

Being the in tune individual that I am, I didn't press further. He unwrapped the bar and scrunched his nose.

Me: What?

Kevin: It looks weird.

Do you know how hard it was for me to NOT to mention the purple jellyfish marshmallow Little Debbie snacks he consumed that don't even look like food?! I shrugged and pretended not to watch. He took two bites and let it sit. I exercised enormous amounts of self-control stifling my questions and waited to see how long it would take for him to have another bite. Finally, I couldn't take it any more.

Me: You don't like it?

Kevin: It tastes like what I imagine poop would taste like.

Me: What?! You're crazy.

He just scowled and shook his head. Being the gracious person I am (um, honey, you don't need to comment), I let it go. Later that day, Ladies Man, without knowing the interchange I had with his dad, told me he'd tried one too and hated it. What is wrong with the males in my house? Pondering it today over a chocolate brownie variety, I think I finally saw the problem.


Kevin may have some validity in his poop comment.






I am going crazy this week listening to my clothes dryer. Suddenly it's developed this squeaky squeal noise. At first I thought those pesky birds were back, but it's a belt thing, I think. Ugh. It's taking longer to dry clothes too. I'm thinking we'll have to invest in a new one. My ears and nerves can't take much more of that icky, icky sound.






Drama Queen and Princess Dawdle spent lots of time at band camp in the last two weeks. Princess Dawdle has the weird tan to prove it. Can you guess what instrument she plays?


That strange white patch on her neck is from her neck strap on her saxophone. Good thing she can leave her hair down to cover it up.






I dropped a crap ton of money in Lincoln the other day shopping with my kiddos. And you know what? I've evolved, because I really didn't care how much I spent. I just kept thinking, "My kids are so great. They don't ask for much." The only downer was the stuff we bought for Ladies Man--dorm stuff--reminding me he'll be leaving us in two weeks. Sigh.






Ladies Man and Princess Dawdle sang a duet in my mom's church last Sunday. Lucky for me, I got all my tears out of the way listening to them practice throughout the week. Drama Queen shot this video of them practicing before the service. I think they did pretty good. (Just ignore the ding dong who forgot they were being taped as she tried to move cords.)







Tomorrow is mine and Kevin's anniversary. 28 years!!! I am the blessed woman who's been loved by this wonderful man for 28 years. Wow. God is SOOOOO good.


I love being your wife, babe. Thanks for this terrific life we share. I love you. Forever.



And with that, this mush fest will end. Enjoy your weekend, friends, and read more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.


Friday, August 01, 2014

7 Quick Takes (Volume 286)







Drummer Boy is a man who requires very little. He isn't one to seek after any sort of "thing." He's very content with the basics. Usually I find this quality admirable and even noble, but sometimes it seems a little freakish to me, like the time he told me this summer he hasn't had a pillow since he moved out in March! "There might be one in the trunk of my car," he said. What?! He doesn't even need a pillow?!

When he moved to his apartment (in March, remember), we couldn't get his box springs out of the old place without removing a stair railing and we didn't have the right tools with us at the time. He told us not to worry about it. He'd take care of it later, and meanwhile we put his mattress on the floor of his bedroom. This arrangement didn't disturb him in the least, but it drove his mother crazy. Who doesn't want a box springs and frame and headboard for their bed? While moving Drama Queen's stuff last week, we recruited Drummer Boy for help and decided to take care of this troubling situation.

Over the weekend he was planning on coming to B-town to visit, but texted at the last minute saying he couldn't find his wallet. He spent the evening and next FEW DAYS searching for the thing with no success. He was convinced he must have thrown it away by accident. We had a few texts about replacing the contents of his wallet and I thought we were done until I got this text that evening.

Drummer Boy's text: Found. My. Wallet. Stuck between my mattress and apparently necessary headboard. See what it's already done! hahaaaaa

Oh my gosh! I laughed so hard! You got me, Drummer Boy! Not every traditional convention is necessary, I guess. Even a headboard!






We have a rabbit that seems to be living in our back yard. I'm sure it's responsible for chomping on the 6 bean plants that managed to come up in our garden including the 10 beans hanging on them. It doesn't seem to have a penchant for any of our other produce (to be fair, if you saw our "produce" you might not have a penchant either), but often nibbles on the clover in the yard (Yeah, we're all green thumbs over here.). Seeing him every day made me think he should have a name. The kids noticed him too and must have read my mind, as the other night over dinner, they pointed him out.

Ladies Man: We should give him a name.

Drama Queen: He has a name--Chester.

Ladies Man: I named him Herb.

They each named him without consulting me?!

Ladies Man: He eats herbs so he should be Herb.

So it's official. There's a rabbit named Herb occupying our back yard. He's pretty tame and hardly moves when we walk up. He likes green beans and the assorted "herbs" in our yard. I noticed he had a little friend this morning. Shall we call him Peaches? (Are any of you old enough to understand that reference?) And Peaches better be a him. We don't have enough beans left for a family!






Drama Queen and Princess Dawdle have been participating in band camp all week. Those of you who AREN'T band geeks might be interested to know they actually tie nail bags around their waists to hold their music and pencils or any other assorted stuff they may need like valve oil or reeds. Princess Dawdle and her friend decided to spruce theirs up a bit last night, painting on Mermaid Man and Barnacle Boy in such a way that if they stand next to each other they make a scene.


Pretty snazzy, huh? Although their band director may think their time would have been better spent actually practicing the music!






I may be a tad anxious about Ladies Man starting college. I've been trying to prime him for the tougher academic challenges of higher education.

Me: What's your plan for studying in college?

Ladies Man: Do it.

Me (not impressed with his "plan"): And if you're even a little bit stuck don't hesitate to ask for help.

Drama Queen (sympathizing with her little brother): He can probably figure it out.

Me: You just have to stay on top of it.

Ladies Man: I've got a lot on my plate . . .

Me: I know! That's why I'm worried!

Ladies Man (barely letting me finish):  . . . but I have a big appetite.

Dang it! He got me too!

Boesiger boys--2, Mom--0






A friend posted some pictures from the recent Esprit tour that Ladies Man and Princess Dawdle were on. She captured this great pic of their duet I just love.


Sigh. My kids have sure gotten under my skin.






I've been doing a lot of reading this week, both for my classes and my own "enjoyment." I say it that way because it's sparking in me a reflective, gotta-figure-this-out thing which is sending my normally active brain into hyper drive.

Who says reading is good for you?






All this reading means I'm talking my poor husband's ear off, which we totally have time for because it seems our kids have ditched us nearly every night this week. But it ain't all bad, folks. We've felt like newlyweds again strolling through our neighborhood, stopping for ice cream and enjoying all kinds of things we normally couldn't at dinner time with the kids around.

This empty nest thing might be okay in a few years.

Unless it gives me more time to read. You may want to pray for my husband.



For now I'm giving this brain a rest. I hope you enjoy your weekend and take in more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.

Friday, July 25, 2014

7 Quick Takes (Volume 285)







Thanks to the few brave people who responded to my post on needs and God not being American with either an email or comment. (The rest of you get an emphatic PSHHHTTTT!)

This line from a friend made me ponder a bit--" . . . there is a line between having faith that God will provide and expecting Him to do so." One man wrote, "God doesn't hate wealth or the wealthy" which I thought was a good distinction to make since there are committed, wealthy Christians who know how to use their money to God's good.

Another woman proposed that God does not change and therefore His ideas about needs don't either. I can buy that, but found myself thinking it doesn't mean He relates to all people the same way. A crude example would be a diabetic who NEEDS extra insulin. God would supply that need, but that doesn't mean He'll give ME insulin. God hasn't changed, but relates to people individually.

A couple of people suggested God only promises to supply the BASICS, like food, clothing and shelter. Another said "God supplies OUR needs," again driving home the fact that God makes personal calls for individuals.

Matthew 6 talks extensively about God meeting our needs, and specifically addresses basic needs like food and clothing (See Matthew 6:31-32). But in verses 7 and 8 I see that personal, individual element again. Jesus said, "And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him."

If He knows what I need before I ask, He is intimately aware of me, right? And if He's intimately aware of me, He knows what I lack which may not be what you lack and therefore is a need for me but not you. (Did you get any of that?)

I suppose the best way to say it is the way this reader did: "He will provide what you need to fulfill the purposes He has for you." That will mean different things for different people. This reader added, "if He wants you to witness to Donald Trump He might give you millions! :)"

I've settled with the idea that needs ARE subjective. Our basic needs are the same, but what I need is different than what you need and since God is a personal God, we can rely on Him to meet our distinct, individual needs beyond the basics. He knows what they are more than we do according to Matthew 6:7-8. When I wonder whether a want is truly a need I can ask Him for it and let Him decide if it is a necessity.

Clear as mud?






Ladies Man and Princess Dawdle have been gone all week on a missions trip. It's been awfully quiet around our house. Drama Queen has been here, but she's working. At first we were like PARTY TIME!, but now we kinda miss those boogers. They come home tomorrow. YAY!

But one advantage to having kids gone is the little cleaning that needs to take place as a result. Shoes aren't scattered all over the kitchen. No books or electronics are left laying around in the living room. I've saved money on groceries and don't have as much laundry.

But still . . . they're not here . . . sniff. How in the world will I have enough material for the Quick Takes?!






My mother-in-law gave me some furniture polish. It does a remarkable job of bringing out the beauty in the wood and even seems to repel dust. My only problem is it has no smell. Nothing! I have a hard enough time mustering up the oomph to actually clean, but when my house doesn't smell clean after I've exerted the effort, well, it just doesn't seem worth it, you know? I want to walk in the door and smell the clean and therefore have proof of my work.

Ugh. Now I have a new dilemma. Do I go for beauty and cleanliness or for the impression of clean in the aroma?

Yeah. I have a hard life.






Nothing says you're old like, "You're due for a colonoscopy." Guess who got to hear those words this week? Yeah. Ick.






Can anyone tell me where the term "pair of pants" comes from? It doesn't really make sense to me. Yes, it is a pair of pant legs, but they're not separate. You can't buy one pant leg. You have to buy the whole thing which is really just one article of clothing so why do we call it a PAIR?






I've been making a lot of guacamole at home lately and Drama Queen and Ladies Man asked if I could get them the same tools I have so they can make it themselves when they move to college. I was happy to oblige, but got to wondering if maybe Drummer Boy might want them too. He's the quintessential bachelor who eats one meal a day and Drama Queen thinks he subsists on fast food, never ever cooks and could care less about making his own guacamole, but I decided to ask him to be sure.

Drummer Boy (in pure DUH tone): Yeah! I'd like that. I'm trying to eat more organic.

Which is super funny since the first thing we saw when stopping at his apartment was a box of Captain Crunch, but I'm taking him at his word.

I already got your avocado slicer, Drummer Boy. Prepare to show your sister what you can do!






Soon the migration of my peeps will begin. Sigh. We already moved Drama Queen into her new place with my mom, though she won't actually live there for a couple weeks. Princess Dawdle starts school August 13th and we move Ladies Man to college on August 21st. I'm starting to think my house is going to be this quiet all the time. Princess Dawdle will still be here, but she's been known to disappear into her bedroom for hours at a time.

We're seeing a big change on our horizon and it's weird. Not terrible. Just weird. I've spent nearly a quarter of a century with kids (and LOTS of them) in my house. I've had more noise than I ever thought I could tolerate and now it's crickets and stillness. Again, not terrible. Just different. It's gonna take some getting used to.

So, come home and see us, my darling children! Don't let your mother become a cat lady.

(And if you've read this far, you're begging them to give me some fodder for these weekly updates too, aren't you? Kids, my readers need you. OBVIOUSLY.)



And that's all I got today, folks. Enjoy your weekend and read more Quick Takes at Conversion Diary.



Monday, July 21, 2014

God isn't American


I've been contemplating wants versus needs lately. Which of my desires are truly needs and which are just things I want? It's an important question to consider because Philippians 4:19 tells us "God will meet all your needs according to the riches of his glory in Christ Jesus." If something is truly a need, God promises to provide it.

I am bothered by the idea that needs are subjective. What I consider a need may not be considered so by someone else. I feel it a need to send my kids to college, yet the women I met in Uganda last summer would find that a luxury. They only needed to keep their kids fed. Can I count on God to provide funding for college? Business owners in America are told they need to have a website and internet presence to make it, but can the same be true of businessmen in Haiti? We Americans tell ourselves we have to "look the part" and maintain a certain image to succeed in our world, necessitating things from manicures to expensive clothing to state of the art facilities. There is some truth to it. I follow the reasoning myself. I buy new outfits for speaking gigs to look my best so I will be taken seriously. I color my hair so as not to be dismissed as old and out of date.

I want to believe that my American ideas are truly needs (and therefore things I can count on God to provide for me), but one thing eats at me.

God isn't American. Does He account for culture in determining needs? Does He view needs the same for all people? Does He consider where I live in His assessment of my needs?

I ask the question because I want some comfort when I have anxiety over money. I want to trust God will meet my needs, but don't know what qualifies as a need. Because God isn't American, does He view needs the same way I would?

I have no answers, friends, but would love to get your thoughts. Let's start a dialogue, people. What do you think?



Photo Credit: Denise Krebs