Overdue Update

So, remember that blanket drive I did a while back? Well, we had a great response and collected 34 blankets! (beat my goal by 24!) The Voice of the Martyrs will deliver the blankets along with illustrated Bibles to the war-torn refugees in Sudan. (If you're not sure what I'm referring to, click here.) Thanks to all who contributed!

New shoes

Lily got some new shoes for Josh's cousins's wedding next weekend. This morning before breakfast we tried them on. She was so thrilled at the loud "click-clack" they made on the wood floor that we paraded all over the house. She hasn't wanted to take them off yet, so she may be wearing patent leather pink shoes everyday from here on out!

Pumpkin Patch

Grandaddy

One year ago yesterday my Grandaddy passed away after 88 years of life. I'm not really sure what I could say to sum up his life other than he did it right. He loved Jesus. He loved his family. He loved others. He loved the church. I've never seen a better display of generosity and humility. He and Nanny were a living example of what Jesus describes in Matthew 25:

"I was hungry, and you gave Me something to eat; I was thirsty, and you gave Me something to drink; I was a stranger, and you invited Me in; naked, and you clothed Me; I was sick, and you visited Me; I was in prison and you came to Me....to the extent that you did it to one of these brothers of Mine, even the least of them, you did it to Me."

Grandaddy got it. He got that his days on this earth were numbered and that he wouldn't be able to take earthly treasures with him. He poured his time and resources into what will last for eternity: the souls of men and the Kingdom of God. After his death, I heard countless stories of how he and Nan blessed others. One of my favorites took place years ago involving his grocery store. Grandaddy was an independent grocer for several decades and saw this as his ministry. His church gave underprivileged community members vouchers with which they could "purchase" grocery items at the church's expense. But everytime the pastor came to reconcile the vouchers, Grandaddy refused reimbursement from the church saying it was covered.

I'm so thankful to have had him for twenty-six years of my life. He was present at my choir concerts, my voice and piano recitals, my graduations, our engagement party, our wedding, Josh's ordination and seminary graduation, the birth of his great-granddaughter, and so many more memories staggered in between.

The last several years of his life, Grandaddy became more outwardly emotional. It was rare that he could bless the food or kiss a grandchild goodbye without a tearful eye. I loved seeing this soft, tender side of him. The night that he passed away, all of his family surrounded his hospital bed, hand in hand, singing old hymns, telling funny stories, praying over him. Even as Grandaddy struggled to breath there was a peace over him as he waited to meet our Lord. And in those sweet moments, his eyes teared up once again reassuring us of his love for those in that room. What a beautiful picture of the gospel. That when the reality of death sets in, we're once again reminded that death has lost its power. God has given us victory.



Thank you, Lord, for my Grandaddy.

sic 'em

I really enjoy football. It's probably my favorite sport to watch. And while I support my city's professional franchise, my heart belongs to the college game. There's nothing else like college football. The "Comin' to Your City" GameDay theme song, the monochromatic packed out stadiums, the bands blasting in-between plays, the traditions that are passed down (and can get a little obnoxious - can I get a 'whoop!?) The college game just seems to have a high level of intensity and excitement that makes me want to cheer for my team. Until I remember that I went to Baylor. Don't get me wrong. I love my alma mater and wouldn't go anywhere else given a second chance, but sometimes I ponder what it would have been like to have had a winning football team. There have been glimpses of glory (proud to say that my dad was a part of the Miracle on the Brazos back in the day). But not enough recently to sustain my desired level of trash-talk.

I came across this statistic tonight and decided to cling to it if (and most likely when) our record starts to wane. It's got to be good for something. And for the record, whether win or lose, I'm still bleeding green and gold, singing "That Good Ole Baylor Line" and teaching my toddler to "Sic'em Bears".

our first Baylor/A&M football game back in '98

Lily last year (5 mo old) at her first Baylor game (in the same outfit I wore to countless BU games!)

four on a couch

Storytime