JPEG of the Week

~Guess who's been to London to visit the Queen?~

Serious Romance

4 of 8 has a serious relationship with a boy.

He's short, dark and handsome.

She's pretty crazy about him.

And the feeling seems to be mutual....

Dry Spells, Big Clouds

"Mom," 5 of 8 called to me, "come see this cool cloud!"

I was knee-deep in work, feverishly clicking away at my computer, multiple projects open in multiple windows.

"Seriously, Mom! You've got to see this."

So I took a breath, took a pause and pulled away from the clarion call of the laptop.

And what I saw took my breath away.

Out to the east, over our dry landscape and low rainfall numbers, a cumulus cloud was billowing, cotton ball puffs blooming.

And to the west, the sun was setting in crimson glory.

When we would swing our attention back to the east, the skyscape was changing by the second...

At this point, I called my neighbor, JT, busy putting her kids to bed and told her that she absolutely, positively needed to step outside and look into the skies.

She obliged me. Because she gets my kind of crazy. Which I appreciate very much.

We didn't get much needed rain. We did get a spectacular sunset show.

And the moral of the story is this...when your nine-year-old invites you to go outside to see a 'cool' cloud, do it.

One City

There are those experiences that give you a glimpse of how things are supposed to be.

The Good Friday service our church helped launch last year is just such an experience.

Last year, we collaborated with three other churches to hold a city-wide Good Friday service. We had one service with a praise and worship team comprised of members of all the churches and short devotional thoughts from each of the pastors. We celebrated communion together and remembered the sacrifice of Jesus on the cross.

It was beautiful.

And this year, even more so.

This year saw the involvement of nine different churches and required two services, both packed out. Believers from all across our city joined together to remember our Messiah and to be unified in our belief in Him, regardless of background or denominational preferences.

It was a glimpse. A glimpse of how things can be.

How things can be when we stop our petty pugnaciousness, our trilling about theologies and genealogies and presbyter pride. When we stop identifying differences and start focusing on what is central. And most important. And the nexus of what we say we believe.

That there walked on this earth 2000 years ago a man named Jesus. Who was the Son of God. Who died on a cross. And who rose again.

To save us from our sins.

And to bring us into complete unity.

His stated goal in John 17:23.

I prowled the catwalks and eagle perches of the performing arts center we used for the service, camera in hand, a modern phantom-ess of the opera, clicking away. I took in the vision of all these believers joined in song and heart.

And I got to see that glimpse of Jesus's goal.

And delighted that we were giving Him a glimpse as well.

Of what we can be. When He is the center.

Portrait Effort Update

So I'm still in search of that elusive item known as "A Cute, Smiling, Looking-in-the-Lens Picture of 8 of 8"...

Here's some of our latest efforts.

That one up there is, ah, interesting. With some editing, I could make it look a little mood-ish, I suppose...

...aannnnddd maybe not.

We're getting closer with this one...

...but it still has something of an 'Emerging Salamander From the Pond' quality to it.

I figured that was probably already an obvious metaphor, but thought I would go ahead and state what everyone was already thinking. Because I'm sure everybody thinks like I do. Right?

Right.

Now this next entry is getting us closer to target. In a slightly off-focus, not-looking-exactly into the camera kind of way.

Now, this next one is the closest we got to the mark. And I'm pretty pleased with it. Now we just need to get the camera in focus and the subject dressed and we can call it a day.

A Recap...of Sorts...

...sort of a memory card potpourri...of sorts...

We'll start at the last few images on the memory card and then move backward.

'Cuz that seems ultra confusing.

So that pic above is of our Easter baskets this year. We sent in a special request to the Easter Bunny, asking if the baskets could actually be delivered Saturday morning, seeing as how our Easter weekend was chock full of special photography and music projects. And that sweet Easter Bunny accommodated us. She He is a champ....

I guess if this whole homeschool thing doesn't work out, the kids could always work on The Price is Right...

7 of 8 makes a pretty cute butterfly...and I'm sure I'm completely unbiased....

I'm not sure what this was about....

Money seems to be a winning inner-Easter-egg find...

...as are Peeps...

Even the cool kids seemed to enjoy their baskets...

Well, maybe except for Mr. Justin Beiber there...

And are you ready for the random segue to the next photos? Okay, here you go. That sleepy sweetie up there celebrated her first birthday on Easter the year she turned one. And just a little over a week ago, she celebrated another birthday. Number 17, to be exact.

She had a party with several of her dance buddies, but for her family party, she had two amazing young women come to dinner who have been spiritual mentors to her.

5 of 8 is becoming something of a shutterbug on these special occasions. Maybe I should have checked out his memory card too.

There are more photographic bits and pieces to still explore on my camera. But I'm sure the length of this post is outlasting the strongest caffeine concentration of the reader. So we'll check out more random photos in upcoming posts.

See how caring I am?

Sunday Selah

(repost from 4/4/10)

"You are a king, then!" said Pilate.

Jesus answered, "You are right in saying I am a king. In fact, for this reason I was born, and for this I came into the world, to testify to the truth. Everyone on the side of truth listens to me."

38"What is truth?" Pilate asked. With this he went out again to the Jews and said, "I find no basis for a charge against him.

John 18:36-37

Ah, Pilate.


I feel for the guy.


Stuck in a dusty outpost in the service of Rome, trying to get his head around the uniques customs and petulance of his subjects. Trying to co-rule the region with a maniac named Herod. Different culture, different geography, different.


He probably entered the Roman legion hoping to make history. A historic win on a battlefield, the glory of Rome lifted for all to see. A skilled ruler over a pivotal Roman territory, momentous leadership the mark of his legacy.


But he is sent to Judea.


To oversee a people feuding over various sects, spouting about Jewish dominance and rights and kingships and traditions.


It must have felt like the furthest thing in the world from history making.


I wonder if he wearied over the endless religious festivals, the calendar the orthodox stuck so closely to. Every couple of months, he would have been overseeing keeping the peace for the Feast of Trumpets, the Feast of Booths, and all the rest. Keeping the peace while the Jews prayed and partied and prophesied.


And now this.


This Jesus is brought to him. From the gospels texts, Pilate seems confused as to why Jesus has been brought to him. For a man who has sworn allegiance to Caesar, it would be a kids' sandbox fight that Jesus is accused of being called a king over a conquered people. What difference would it make to the reality of Roman rule?


Pilate is about to become a history maker. But it is far from what he may have imagined as the apex of his career.


As he asks Jesus about the accusations being made, Pilate and this Jewish carpenter engage in a philosophic polemic that remains at the center of belief in Christ and unbelief today.


Pilate asks Jesus if he is a king. And Jesus replies that He is a king, a king of truth.


And Pilate then asks the question that will echo in the hearts of men even up to this day.


He asks, "What is truth?"


What is truth? Was Jesus sent here as a picture of the immortal God, His sacrifice the cost of the kingship of the Kingdom of Heaven?


Or was He simply a good but misguided man, a man whose life grew in legend after His crucifixion, His memory enlarged by His grieving followers? Was He a man of truth who didn't tell the truth about Himself? Was He a teacher in wisdom who unwisely exaggerated His purpose here on earth?


What is truth?


Pilate was haunted by the question.


On the fence. Wrestling with himself.


This truth he was able to discern. He found no fault in this man called Jesus. And then he let the crowd have its way. To preserve the Pax Romana, the Peace of Rome.


History does not record Pilate's life after the cross. Various legends claim this or that, but no historical document has been found to tell us of his end of days.


But I can picture him, reflecting, thinking, turning the question over and over in his mind, the memory of the eyes of a peaceful rabbi looking intently into his.


What is truth?


Is Jesus the King?


Selah.

JPEG of the Week

~Good Friday Service at the Long Center, ATX~

~a celebration of ServeOurCity~

~amazing~

Good Friday

"The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, heard His cry and saw how He died, he said, "Surely this man was the Son of God!"

Mark 15:38~39

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A Little Child Shall Lead...

Had one of the Deer-in-the-Headlights-Mommy-Moments today.
I was standing in the check-out line at my beloved Costco, cell phone to ear, talking to Mike. 5 of 8 was at the other side of the cart, playing his hand held Nintendo DS. I had just started to put our groceries onto the conveyor.

Even while on the phone with Mike, I was aware of an older man behind us, complaining loudly about the length of the lines, the amount of time things were taking, his opinion that there were not enough checkers. While I do get a bit defensive of my beloved Costco, I refocused on my conversation with Mike and continued to unload my cart.

That is, until this man came stalking up to 5 of 8.

"Young man!" he barked. "Do you know what you should be doing? Huh? You should put away that d*** telephone and help your mom put groceries on the belt there!" Yelling. Harsh.

I was stunned.

But before I could think of what to do, 5 of 8 took the lead.

"Sir," he said, "you're right." And with that, he shut his DS, put it in his pocket and started helping me unload the cart.

And I stood there with my mouth hanging open.

Stunned that I hadn't thought quick enough to intervene. Stunned that an adult, a stranger, would dare to say anything to my child who was simply, quietly standing in line. Stunned that he would use curse words. Stunned that he would presume to cross so many boundaries.

And as I stood there stunned, 5 of 8 continued to engage the man in conversation, chatting about the day.

I finished paying for my groceries, taking my receipt, listening as the man began to harangue the checker. 5 of 8 didn't say anything about the experience as we made our way to the van, just walked alongside me, talking about books and movies and friends.

When we got in the van, I told him how proud I was of him. I apologized for not intervening quickly. And I told him how much maturity he showed, the example he set for me. Not that we should always allow people to charge past appropriate boundaries. But where I saw a cranky old geezer, 5 of 8 saw an older person to whom he should show respect. Where I saw an irascible loud mouth, 5 of 8 saw an opportunity to come up higher, to show greater patience. To bless.

And bless he did.

Both that mean old geezer.

And me.

Swan

So I'm assuming all the cool kids out there have already seen this...

But our creative arts pastor introduced me to it yesterday and I just can't get over it.

And so I had to share....

Hummingbird, Hummingbird, Where Have You Been?

I so wish I had pictures for this post.
But, alas, I do not. At least not yet.

Hummingbirds are making their annual pilgrimage through our part of the world. 6 of 8 and I were sitting on the back porch after dinner, taking in their escapades. We have a couple of hummingbird feeders hung on the back porch, similar to this one.

(from www.petworldshop.com)

I've really liked this style because it's easy to fill up and hang without pouring nectar all over myself.

We make homemade nectar for the hummingbirds, made of one part sugar to four parts very warm tap water. I used to boil the mixture, but the latest online research I've done says that tap water is now considered just fine. I don't put any kind of coloring in the nectar and the hummingbirds don't seem to mind.

I found this great site called A Quick Reference Guide to Texas Hummingbirds. It's put out in PDF form by the state of Texas and has all things hummingbirds. You can find it by clicking here.

It's fun to watch this little hummers buzz about, dive bombing their competitors and chirping in delight when they land at the feeders. And watching them has had a human benefit as well; the kids and I chat about the birds and look for their nests in the trees surrounding our yard and try to figure out which are the males and which are the females. 6 of 8 in particular asks all kinds of interesting questions about flight speed and life span. We look up facts online and admire photography of hummingbirds and talk about migration patterns.

And it all seems supremely appropriate conversation for an awakening spring.

Decision, Decisions

This little girl gives us a run for our money, trying to navigate the complexities and treasures of her personality.
And her physical and occupational therapies.

But we're getting it figured out.

Little by little, more ideas and approaches and insights present themselves.

Present themselves as ways to wake up that little left hand.

We had a big kahuna meeting last week with a neurologist and an intern and a physical therapist and a nurse and an occupational therapist. And we circled back up with her dedicated and amazing weekly therapists.

And while no magic pixie dust showed up to fix the situation, we all found new ways to approach this kiddo, new approaches to soliciting her cooperation and motivation.

What a blessing to have so many people all interested in helping this little girl be all she can be.

Sunday Selah

They took palm branches and went out to meet him, shouting, “Hosanna! ” “Blessed is he who comes in the name of the Lord!” “Blessed is the king of Israel!”

John 12:13

We celebrated Palm Sunday today at church.
It was so, so sweet.

The children entered the auditorium waving palm branches and singing 'Hosanna' and the whole place was filled with a sense of celebration and joy.

The children made their way down to the front of the auditorium, skipping along, waving those palm branches with all their might. Some of them were, ah, very enthusiastic. Those palm fronds created a breeze across the first several rows of seats.

And some of the children, as the song went on, began to let their enthusiastic palm frond waving interfere with the personal space of their neighbors.

As in, some of the kids were getting pelted in the face with the leaves of a palm frond, wildly waved by the kid next to them.

It was funny. And cute.

And profound.

Because I thought it was a perfect picture of the impact of Passion Week upon the world.

For some of us, the triumphal entry of Jesus into the annals of history is a refreshing breeze of hope and help from heaven. The events surrounding His sacrifice, His burial, His resurrection, bring fresh breezes of salvation.

And for others of us, the palm fronds of His entry can slap us upside the head, make us face questions we don't want to, force us to come face to face with this historical figure that we might grant was a good man and a compelling teacher. But we're not ready to call Him the Son of God.

Palm fronds in the hands of children.

Enthusiastically waving.

And teaching anew the way that the story of Christ is often received.

As refreshing as a new spring wind.

Or as stinging as a slap in the face.

For He came to bring a sword.

Selah.

Jpeg of the Week

8 of 8

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