I saw the ambulance. I was sitting in the front window of the coffee shop when it whizzed by. I zoned out watching it, noticing it was EMS rather than the local rescue team. Didn't mean much.
From the front window of the coffee shop you can see everything that's happening in town. I could see the ambulance was not headed towards the nursing home. It could have been headed towards campus, but I couldn't tell. Didn't mean much.
It did prompt me to think about how we have not lost a student since I started. Sure, students have had seizures, passed out, dislocated shoulders in class but they've all been fine in a few hours or days. We've lost professors, staff members, and family members. But never a student.
I went back to my work.
Not long after that, I saw the same ambulance return in the direction from which it came, sirens still on. I thought about Tweeting about how it's not a good sign when an ambulance returns from a call with its lights and siren.
Despite the town only having one stoplight, despite my roommate working in campus ministries, despite seeing the ambulance, I learned from Twitter that one of my sisters in Christ had passed away.
The world stopped.
I didn't recognize her name, but I knew her face. I definitely knew her face. I've heard her testimony.
It was her birthday.
The night before she'd Tweeted that she was excited for the next day. I'm sure she had no idea how exciting it would be for her. She got to celebrate her earthly birthday with the Lord.
That morning, she'd Tweeted and thanked the Lord for another year of her life. That night, He took her home.
Sniffles and tears were overwhelming at our weekly worship service last night. My roommate had hugged her the morning she went Home. Others had been in her class. We were all grieving.
And it's ok to cry. It's ok to be sad. Jesus was. When His friend Lazarus died, the Bible says Jesus wept.
Yet still there was an element of joy in the air. We knew (and know) that she is with the Lord.
You see, this sister I never had the pleasure to hug, loved the Lord. A lot.
We know that her death is not in vain. We know that she's in the arms of our Father. We know that she would be overjoyed if everyone (if anyone) came to know the Lord through her death.
We celebrated. We praised the Lord. We know that He is good even when life is bad. His timing is perfect even when ours is a little off.
Yes, it's hard. Yes, we thought He was going to do a lot more with her on this earth. Yes, we know that her testimony will continue to inspire, to encourage, and to draw people to Him. It's all she wanted to do with her life and now in her death.
That's what I want my life and death to be about: the glory of the Lord. Today. Tomorrow. Every day until I'm called home. And even then.
If you don't mind, can you take a few seconds right now and pray for us? Pray for her family. Pray for her friends, roommates, and colleagues. Pray for this campus, this town. Thank God that He took one of His children home rather than a student who didn't know Him. Thank Him for His goodness and journeying with us.
But don't pray for her. It's not necessary. She's ok because she's in the arms of the Father. And if she's not in heaven, then we're all in trouble. But I know she is.
And next time you see an ambulance, do me a favor and pray for the patient, the team, and the team meeting him/her. Pray for the family, the friends. Pray that God be glorified as He as been here.
This verse was very important to her. It is now very important to me.
"For I am not ashamed of the gospel, for it is the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek." Romans 1:16
Today's a gift, friends. It's the most important day of your life. Yesterday is gone. Tomorrow isn't promised.
You never know when you're going to be called home. It could be in the middle of class on your 21st birthday.
And I'm ok with that.
<>< Katie
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Showing posts with label birthday. Show all posts
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Ten Steps
What did you do thirteen days ago? At some point during the day did you walk to your living room and sit down on the couch? For the first time in two years, so did my friend Kaitlyn.
In October 2007, Kaitlyn was sent home from school sick. At first they thought she had the flu, but she got worse rather than better, and no one knew why. Her hyper-sensitivity to sound, touch, smell, light, etc. left her to sit in a dark room all day watching tv and the lowest possible volume level. Her family read the subtitles because the tv was too quiet to hear.
In April 2008, she lost the ability to walk. That June she was finally diagnosed with Lyme Disease and multiple co-infections. Her family of five (plus two dogs) packed up their lives, left their 3,800 square foot house, and moved 800 miles to a two-bedroom apartment.
Over the last few years they have faithfully walked through a battle that I cannot fathom. The air conditioner, the act of cooking dinner, and even the gurling of the fridge are painfully loud to her. Hugs are out of the question. She's been treated almost daily at same clinic since 2008 and the doctor and nurses have never seen her face because she wears a towel over her head to block the light.
The week before the Steelers (this family's football team of choice) won the Superbowl, Kaitlyn independently walked ten steps, something medicine could not explain. That ability was lost again but the hope it provided was remarkable. She's now learning to walk again, and less than two weeks ago she got to sit in the living room for the first time since they've lived there.
This week, on September 29, Kaitlyn turns sixteen. What did you do for your sixteenth birthday? Not sit around in a dark apartment or go to a clinic with a towel over your head, right?
For her 14th birthday, their apartment was flooded with cards.
For her 15th, we were asked to fast and petition the Lord, the Great Physician, for her healing.
This year, her family has asked that we find a way to make her 16th birthday memorable.
What they want everyone to do is something sweet or uplifting. Something out of the ordinary. They suggested volunteering at a soup kitchen, making a meal for someone, visiting hospice, writing to a solider, volunteering at a dog shelter... Bless someone on her behalf. In Kaitlyn's honor and for God's glory.
I would love for you to participate with us. If you do, please comment on this post or send me an email with what was done and where it was, your state if you're within the US or your country (since I know there are some international lurkers!). What they're going to do is collect these stories and bind them into a keepsake book for Kaitlyn.
“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:15-18
As for what I did, well, you'll have to come back on Friday.
<>< Katie
PS: For more information, visit her caringbridge. You do have to register for the site but it's free and open to everyone.
In October 2007, Kaitlyn was sent home from school sick. At first they thought she had the flu, but she got worse rather than better, and no one knew why. Her hyper-sensitivity to sound, touch, smell, light, etc. left her to sit in a dark room all day watching tv and the lowest possible volume level. Her family read the subtitles because the tv was too quiet to hear.
In April 2008, she lost the ability to walk. That June she was finally diagnosed with Lyme Disease and multiple co-infections. Her family of five (plus two dogs) packed up their lives, left their 3,800 square foot house, and moved 800 miles to a two-bedroom apartment.
Over the last few years they have faithfully walked through a battle that I cannot fathom. The air conditioner, the act of cooking dinner, and even the gurling of the fridge are painfully loud to her. Hugs are out of the question. She's been treated almost daily at same clinic since 2008 and the doctor and nurses have never seen her face because she wears a towel over her head to block the light.
The week before the Steelers (this family's football team of choice) won the Superbowl, Kaitlyn independently walked ten steps, something medicine could not explain. That ability was lost again but the hope it provided was remarkable. She's now learning to walk again, and less than two weeks ago she got to sit in the living room for the first time since they've lived there.
This week, on September 29, Kaitlyn turns sixteen. What did you do for your sixteenth birthday? Not sit around in a dark apartment or go to a clinic with a towel over your head, right?
For her 14th birthday, their apartment was flooded with cards.
For her 15th, we were asked to fast and petition the Lord, the Great Physician, for her healing.
This year, her family has asked that we find a way to make her 16th birthday memorable.
What they want everyone to do is something sweet or uplifting. Something out of the ordinary. They suggested volunteering at a soup kitchen, making a meal for someone, visiting hospice, writing to a solider, volunteering at a dog shelter... Bless someone on her behalf. In Kaitlyn's honor and for God's glory.
I would love for you to participate with us. If you do, please comment on this post or send me an email with what was done and where it was, your state if you're within the US or your country (since I know there are some international lurkers!). What they're going to do is collect these stories and bind them into a keepsake book for Kaitlyn.
“Therefore, we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.” 2 Corinthians 4:15-18
As for what I did, well, you'll have to come back on Friday.
<>< Katie
PS: For more information, visit her caringbridge. You do have to register for the site but it's free and open to everyone.
Friday, August 27, 2010
Tales of Nikki and Katie: The Episode of the Bike (Helmet)
In my family, when you turn double-digits, you get two big presents: a mountain bike and a bedroom set. It kind of worked that way for me and my parents kept the tradition for my sisters. So, on my tenth birthday we all hopped in the van and drove to the same bike shop where my mom and grandfather got their first adult bikes. I still remember the day. This must have been before my purple phase because I came home with a maroon bike that I absolutely loved and a red helmet I tolerated. I'm now twenty-one and that same bike came to college with me.
Nikki hates to walk everywhere from our middle-of-nowhere apartment, so I offered her the use of my bike. Problem: I'm tall; Nikki's not. We tried to find a seat-height that would satisfy both of us but couldn't. Finally we realized the seat moves very easily, a brand new feature back in 1999 when I bought my bike. When Nikki wanted to ride it, she could lower the seat. When I wanted to ride my bike, I could raise it. Very simple; very easy. I told her the code to my combination lock, and we were set.
A few days later, my bike was missing from our second-story porch because Nikki took me up on my offer. Except Nikki was in the living room.
Katie: Where's my bike?
Nikki: OH MY GOSH! Katie, you have the smallest seat in the world!
Katie: I have the smallest butt in the world.
Nikki: It's in my office. I rode it to work and go so fed up with it that I got a car ride back.
This was Friday meaning my bike was locked in there over the weekend. Not really a big deal. Nikki also conveniently wore a dress for the next several days meaning she couldn't ride my bike back.
Nikki: Next time you're up near the caf, swing by my office and pick up your bike because it might stay there all semester if you don't, and we really need the space back.
Katie: Yeah, I'll remember to take my helmet with me to the caf. That's not dorky.
Last fall, I crashed on my bike. My thoughts went something like this, "Road? Sidewalk? Road? Sidewalk? Road. Crap, speed bumps. Just kidding! Sidewalk."
I learned something very important: You can't do "just kidding" on a bike. Indecisiveness leads to skinned knees
Since I've always been very safety conscious and I have a history of bike crashes, I wear a red helmet when I ride my maroon bike. I also ski with a purple helmet and have been known to Wii Bowl in my ski helmet. Yes, everyone laughs at me. I've decided I'd rather be the dork with the helmet than the dork with the broken head.
When I did finally retrieve my bike from Nikki's office, I rode it down the hallway, on the sidewalk, through the grass, across the parking lot, up the hill, through the building, and up the stairs without a helmet. It was terrifying. And liberating.
When I told my mom this story, she laughed all the way through it. When I got to the "So I rescued my bike and rode it home without a helmet" part she said she was proud of me. Huh?!
And now I face a major decision: Helmet or no helmet? That is the question.
<>< Katie
Nikki hates to walk everywhere from our middle-of-nowhere apartment, so I offered her the use of my bike. Problem: I'm tall; Nikki's not. We tried to find a seat-height that would satisfy both of us but couldn't. Finally we realized the seat moves very easily, a brand new feature back in 1999 when I bought my bike. When Nikki wanted to ride it, she could lower the seat. When I wanted to ride my bike, I could raise it. Very simple; very easy. I told her the code to my combination lock, and we were set.
A few days later, my bike was missing from our second-story porch because Nikki took me up on my offer. Except Nikki was in the living room.
Katie: Where's my bike?
Nikki: OH MY GOSH! Katie, you have the smallest seat in the world!
Katie: I have the smallest butt in the world.
Nikki: It's in my office. I rode it to work and go so fed up with it that I got a car ride back.
This was Friday meaning my bike was locked in there over the weekend. Not really a big deal. Nikki also conveniently wore a dress for the next several days meaning she couldn't ride my bike back.
Nikki: Next time you're up near the caf, swing by my office and pick up your bike because it might stay there all semester if you don't, and we really need the space back.
Katie: Yeah, I'll remember to take my helmet with me to the caf. That's not dorky.
Last fall, I crashed on my bike. My thoughts went something like this, "Road? Sidewalk? Road? Sidewalk? Road. Crap, speed bumps. Just kidding! Sidewalk."
I learned something very important: You can't do "just kidding" on a bike. Indecisiveness leads to skinned knees
Since I've always been very safety conscious and I have a history of bike crashes, I wear a red helmet when I ride my maroon bike. I also ski with a purple helmet and have been known to Wii Bowl in my ski helmet. Yes, everyone laughs at me. I've decided I'd rather be the dork with the helmet than the dork with the broken head.
When I did finally retrieve my bike from Nikki's office, I rode it down the hallway, on the sidewalk, through the grass, across the parking lot, up the hill, through the building, and up the stairs without a helmet. It was terrifying. And liberating.
When I told my mom this story, she laughed all the way through it. When I got to the "So I rescued my bike and rode it home without a helmet" part she said she was proud of me. Huh?!
And now I face a major decision: Helmet or no helmet? That is the question.
<>< Katie
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
One of my Favorite Stories
On August 2, 1989, Freddy arrived home from a work dinner to find his house empty. Nothing unusual. He called his in-laws who lived down the street. He says he knew the moment his father-in-law answered the phone.
His wife, Parah, didn't know. She was too busy running up and down the stairs trying to relieve the cramps caused by eating a whole bowl of green beans for dinner. After the stairs, she moved on to the stationary bike before resolving herself to the bathroom floor. She still had three weeks.
A few hours later, they were in the car on the way to the hospital. Freddy's eyes rotated between the road, the clock, and his screaming wife. Less than five minutes. As they drew nearer, he expressed his lifelong dream of being pulled over at that very moment. Through gritted teeth Parah told him to shut up and drive the car.
One stoplight away and an ambulance appeared on the horizon. Freddy didn't stop to think. He knew he had to get his wife to the hospital before that ambulance arrived. He ran the red light and threatened to park in the ambulance bay. He parked in the on-call physician spot instead.
Inside of the hospital a few floors up, their sister-in-law Sasha heard about Freddy and Parah's late-night arrival. She slowly meandered downstairs thinking she had plenty of time. Stopping at the nurse's station to talk to her friends, she was told about a patient in Room One mere minutes away from giving birth. Suddenly the pieces fell into place and she rushed into the room, almost missing the birth of her goddaughter.
She wasn't the only one who almost missed it. The doctor almost missed it, too. He arrived at the hospital and poked his head in Parah's room. "Do I have time to change my clothes?"
"If you hurry," the nurse said.
They teased he could have been there sooner if Freddy hadn't been parked in his spot. Luckily, the doctor did make it back in time to deliver a baby girl at 1:35am on August 3.
That was 21 years ago tonight. How do you think I should celebrate?
<>< Katie
His wife, Parah, didn't know. She was too busy running up and down the stairs trying to relieve the cramps caused by eating a whole bowl of green beans for dinner. After the stairs, she moved on to the stationary bike before resolving herself to the bathroom floor. She still had three weeks.
A few hours later, they were in the car on the way to the hospital. Freddy's eyes rotated between the road, the clock, and his screaming wife. Less than five minutes. As they drew nearer, he expressed his lifelong dream of being pulled over at that very moment. Through gritted teeth Parah told him to shut up and drive the car.
One stoplight away and an ambulance appeared on the horizon. Freddy didn't stop to think. He knew he had to get his wife to the hospital before that ambulance arrived. He ran the red light and threatened to park in the ambulance bay. He parked in the on-call physician spot instead.
Inside of the hospital a few floors up, their sister-in-law Sasha heard about Freddy and Parah's late-night arrival. She slowly meandered downstairs thinking she had plenty of time. Stopping at the nurse's station to talk to her friends, she was told about a patient in Room One mere minutes away from giving birth. Suddenly the pieces fell into place and she rushed into the room, almost missing the birth of her goddaughter.
She wasn't the only one who almost missed it. The doctor almost missed it, too. He arrived at the hospital and poked his head in Parah's room. "Do I have time to change my clothes?"
"If you hurry," the nurse said.
They teased he could have been there sooner if Freddy hadn't been parked in his spot. Luckily, the doctor did make it back in time to deliver a baby girl at 1:35am on August 3.
That was 21 years ago tonight. How do you think I should celebrate?
<>< Katie
Tuesday, June 1, 2010
Happy birthday, Daddio
"Lunch? Noon. Love, Dad."
That's all the email read. Luckily, I knew lunch our usual lunch location: the family pub on the lake. This particular fall day, I arrived first. I got a table but rather than shivering at the sight of the white caps, I flagged down the waitress. I put in our drinks order, a root beer for me and an iced tea for Dad. I then confided in her and shared a secret.
"It's his birthday," I whispered, pointing to the seat where my father would sit at some point. She nodded and disappeared.
"You beat me here! First time in your life," Dad teased about my punctuality. I'm never later than a minute or two, but our restaurant is a few blocks from his office and fifteen minutes from our house. Combine that with the fact that I was a college student home on fall break who'd rather be in bed at noon and you tell me who's going to arrive first.
We enjoyed our meal and as we finished up, I heard the maracas in the kitchen. I bit my lip as to not spill my own beans. I didn't think I was successful, but I still enjoyed the look on Dad's face when they serenaded him and placed an ice cream dessert in front of him. I "got him" and got a good laugh.
As we were walking out we walked past his former secretary who happened to be having lunch with some friends. "Now wait a second. Your birthday's in June," she puzzled with a smile. It was October. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.
Dad is notorious for taking his "four girls" (my two sisters, my mom, and me) out for our birthdays, sneaking around the restaurant, and surprising us with a birthday serenade and free cake. We all hate it. We all love it. As we've gotten wiser, so has Dad. Since he's not allowed to leave the table during dinner, he's hired accomplices. We know what restaurants will participate in this tomfoolery, and we've been known to sing ourselves in those that don't. We've decided to bypass this mortifying tradition and enjoy a peaceful birthday dinner at home instead. My birthday's in early August, and I make sure we eat every meal at home from late July until mid August. You just never know when it's going to be your birthday TODAY!
Sure, we've turned it around on him a time or two. Like when we went out on Christina's birthday but told the waitress it was Dad's birthday instead. Or the time we made him wear the menu on his head while they serenaded Mom. But that's what's go great about the October celebration: it was just a taste of his own medicine and he had no idea it was coming. Not going to lie, I was pretty proud of myself and I did wish the rest of the family could have been there to see it. Oh, well. Maybe tonight we'll go out for lemon marang pie.
Happy birthday, Freddy Buttless. I love you more than the grains of sand all mushed together. Love, Sandi Beech.
<>< Katie
That's all the email read. Luckily, I knew lunch our usual lunch location: the family pub on the lake. This particular fall day, I arrived first. I got a table but rather than shivering at the sight of the white caps, I flagged down the waitress. I put in our drinks order, a root beer for me and an iced tea for Dad. I then confided in her and shared a secret.
"It's his birthday," I whispered, pointing to the seat where my father would sit at some point. She nodded and disappeared.
"You beat me here! First time in your life," Dad teased about my punctuality. I'm never later than a minute or two, but our restaurant is a few blocks from his office and fifteen minutes from our house. Combine that with the fact that I was a college student home on fall break who'd rather be in bed at noon and you tell me who's going to arrive first.
We enjoyed our meal and as we finished up, I heard the maracas in the kitchen. I bit my lip as to not spill my own beans. I didn't think I was successful, but I still enjoyed the look on Dad's face when they serenaded him and placed an ice cream dessert in front of him. I "got him" and got a good laugh.
As we were walking out we walked past his former secretary who happened to be having lunch with some friends. "Now wait a second. Your birthday's in June," she puzzled with a smile. It was October. A girl's got to do what a girl's got to do.
Dad is notorious for taking his "four girls" (my two sisters, my mom, and me) out for our birthdays, sneaking around the restaurant, and surprising us with a birthday serenade and free cake. We all hate it. We all love it. As we've gotten wiser, so has Dad. Since he's not allowed to leave the table during dinner, he's hired accomplices. We know what restaurants will participate in this tomfoolery, and we've been known to sing ourselves in those that don't. We've decided to bypass this mortifying tradition and enjoy a peaceful birthday dinner at home instead. My birthday's in early August, and I make sure we eat every meal at home from late July until mid August. You just never know when it's going to be your birthday TODAY!
Sure, we've turned it around on him a time or two. Like when we went out on Christina's birthday but told the waitress it was Dad's birthday instead. Or the time we made him wear the menu on his head while they serenaded Mom. But that's what's go great about the October celebration: it was just a taste of his own medicine and he had no idea it was coming. Not going to lie, I was pretty proud of myself and I did wish the rest of the family could have been there to see it. Oh, well. Maybe tonight we'll go out for lemon marang pie.
Happy birthday, Freddy Buttless. I love you more than the grains of sand all mushed together. Love, Sandi Beech.
<>< Katie
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Happy birthday
Today is a very special day. Amber turns 20. Jenny turns 20. Grandma turns 72. I don't have time right now to tell stories about them all, but I want them to feel loved. :-) Their stories will come (as will Melissa's... I haven't forgotten! [unlike Melissa and her password])
<>< Katie
<>< Katie
Monday, September 29, 2008
Happy birthday, Kaitlyn!
Today is Kaitlyn's birthday. Unfortunately, she's not having a very happy one. Her birthday consists of the daily trip to the clinic for treatment followed by the necessity of eating despite the nausea. That's not to mention the light, noise, and touch sensitivity.
Kaitlyn's my sisters' friend that I haven't seen in four years. Were she in any other condition, today would go on as normal. Instead, it's causing me to pause and reflect and find a good Kaitlyn story. I could tell countless stories about her big sister. Several about her family in general, but Kaitlyn? There's the memory of crouching in the closet listening to her pace the hallway calling my name during an intense game of "Hide and Seek". Or the time we were in the basement for the tornado warning with their grandma.
A different story comes to mind and causes me to feel guilty. I usually wasn't the girl who made fun of other kids, but one afternoon I made fun of one of Kaitlyn's friends for being a little different. Kait's sister totally called me out on it.
"It's not her fault she has a speech impairment."
Ouch. I was caught up in the physical attributes of this girl and missed who was hiding behind her crimped blond hair. Kaitlyn was able to look beyond that and see a good friend. Let's learn from Kait's love and Katie's mistake! :-)
In Christ,
<>< Katie
(This was supposed to be posted yesterday... oops)
Kaitlyn's my sisters' friend that I haven't seen in four years. Were she in any other condition, today would go on as normal. Instead, it's causing me to pause and reflect and find a good Kaitlyn story. I could tell countless stories about her big sister. Several about her family in general, but Kaitlyn? There's the memory of crouching in the closet listening to her pace the hallway calling my name during an intense game of "Hide and Seek". Or the time we were in the basement for the tornado warning with their grandma.
A different story comes to mind and causes me to feel guilty. I usually wasn't the girl who made fun of other kids, but one afternoon I made fun of one of Kaitlyn's friends for being a little different. Kait's sister totally called me out on it.
"It's not her fault she has a speech impairment."
Ouch. I was caught up in the physical attributes of this girl and missed who was hiding behind her crimped blond hair. Kaitlyn was able to look beyond that and see a good friend. Let's learn from Kait's love and Katie's mistake! :-)
In Christ,
<>< Katie
(This was supposed to be posted yesterday... oops)
Saturday, July 26, 2008
Happy birthday!
My grandpa turned 75 today! We were talking about "The Birthday Boy" doing something and he snickered. We changed it to Birthday Man. He still laughed and renamed himself, "The Birthday Geezer!"
One of my grandpa's favorite things to do has always been to jump up on a tree stump or any ledge, put his hands above his head, and say "For my next dive!" and pretend to dive into the water.
You know what it's like, to stand on the edge of a pool and contemplate jumping in or not. Standing there, raising your arms, ready to jump, everyone cheering you on... yet, you hesitate. Why? It's not like the water's going to disappear and you're going to crash into the bottom. It can't be that cold if your friends are already in.God asks us to jump into His Plan. We're standing up there all ready to go, yet we hesitate. Can we trust Him? Does He know what He's doing? What if it's wrong? Trust Him! After all, He knows best! In the words of Steven Curtis Chapman, "I'm divin' in; I'm goin' deep. In over my head I want to be. Caught in the rush, lost in the flow, in over my head I want to go. The river's deep; the river's wide; the river's water is alive. So sink or swim I'm divin' in!"
Why just settle with diving in? Margarita with a Twist in! A family tradition, is the flip into the pool, popularly known as a Margarita with a Twist. Both of my grandparents, in their 70s, will still flip into the pool. Next weekend, went the whole family is over, we shall all flip into the pool together and it will be grand. :-)
<><>
"Shout with joy to God, all the earth! Sing the glory of His name; make His praise glorious! ... Come and see what God has done, how awesome His works in man's behalf! He turned the sea into dry land, they passed through the waters on foot—come, let us rejoice in Him." Psalm 66:1-2,5-6
"No misspellings found."
Why does that always make my day?
Happy birthday--late--Melissa! You will get a blog at some point, I promise!
Happy birthday!
My grandpa turned 75 today! We were talking about "The Birthday Boy" doing something and he snickered. We changed it to Birthday Man. He still laughed.
"The birthday geezer, maybe!"
A few years ago, I was at my grandparents' house for the week. That year their tomato plants had pretty much taken over their yard. You had to wrestle the tomatoes to get off the deck. It was actually really funny. They also had a gopher problem that year. A gopher made his home in the rain drain right outside their bedroom window and would be loud and obnoxious at night. To solve the gopher problem, all my grandpa had to do was drop a golf ball down the rain gutter. There was even a little hole he called "The Gopher Hole".
This particular day, we got the golf ball to get out the gopher, but Grandpa didn't have any shoes on. He precariously climbed though the bushes to get to the Gopher Hole and balanced himself on a chunk of cement and a few larger rocks. He dropped the golf ball expecting the gopher to come out the other end. Well, instead the golf rollyed out and
"The birthday geezer, maybe!"
A few years ago, I was at my grandparents' house for the week. That year their tomato plants had pretty much taken over their yard. You had to wrestle the tomatoes to get off the deck. It was actually really funny. They also had a gopher problem that year. A gopher made his home in the rain drain right outside their bedroom window and would be loud and obnoxious at night. To solve the gopher problem, all my grandpa had to do was drop a golf ball down the rain gutter. There was even a little hole he called "The Gopher Hole".
This particular day, we got the golf ball to get out the gopher, but Grandpa didn't have any shoes on. He precariously climbed though the bushes to get to the Gopher Hole and balanced himself on a chunk of cement and a few larger rocks. He dropped the golf ball expecting the gopher to come out the other end. Well, instead the golf rollyed out and
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