a broken heart

This little guy is breaking my heart. He and his family need some serious prayer.

I had a few quippy things to blog about, but in light of this - no quippy blogging tonight.

I just started a study on Esther. Only a few days in, so I can't wax eloquent. But the bible study teacher says this: We know God is a miracle worker. He parted the red sea. But what happens when He doesn't do it? When the red sea doesn't part?

What happens when a precious baby boy has a body that is slowly killing him?
Or when cancer comes back?
When your spouse leaves?
When a woman watches her village killed, is gang raped, contracts HIV/AIDS and is pregnant from one of the rapes?
When soldiers kidnap children at night from their village - beat them and force them to kill their families?
When you lose your 3 year old to cancers after a 2-year battle?
When the unthinkable in your life happens...then what?

Who is God then? Will your packaged answers suffice? Or will you distance yourself from the reality of life.

In this lifetime, faith is tough to come by. It's even tougher when we think we have the answers.

Truth is, answers are something we don't have. And sometimes, God simply doesn't part the red sea. The miracle isn't what we expected. It's not beautiful. It's raw. And it hurts like hell.

The one thing I do know is- this life isn't all there is. While God may not part a red sea in my life, He is working out the miracle of the ordinary. Creating the extraordinary as the vice of pain grips us.

I don't what God is going to do for little Gavin. With all of my might, I am lifting that blonde baby up to the Lord and asking for a miracle. That He would heal Gavin's body. Lord, guide the hands of the surgeons. Give the operation complete success. I know He hears that. He loves Gavin beyond measure. He's there through the gut-wrenching days.

And if he doesn't part the red sea for this little boy, I know God will rejoice and cradle this sweet baby boy. I'm still praying boldly. Believing.

And doing my level best to believe there is always crazy, unabashed hope available. Even when the miracle happens on the other side.

Lord, help us understand. And have faith that makes sense according to your Word. Not according to what we think. We love you unashamedly. And faithfully. Amen.

bolts and gates and iron and bronze...

I've been feeling surprisingly "thrifty" of late. Spurred by the failing economy (which is no light-hearted matter), I've been bypassing the Starbucks' americano for coffee from my trusty homebrew. Gas for my car has been coming from Arco - which involves the transfer of green stuff vs the sliding of plastic. I've also been sacrificing my pension for all things organic and natural for a bit of "whatever's on sale."

I miss Whole Foods. Oh yes. I do. I also have a coffee card that is "full up" from our weekend soirees. I'm saving it for that morning that can only be fixed by driving through and receiving strong java made at the hands of someone else.

The biggest news of the moment is the Rock and Roll Marathon. We're doing the half and are registered. Lee doesn't know it yet...his registration is part of his birthday present.

I'm actually very excited. The beginning of the journey is always full of much anticipation. Our actual training schedule begins next weekend: 17 weeks of hard work. I'm hoping beyond hope, that some weight will come off my frame. I need to incorporate more cardio and core during my weekday workouts. Which actually don't exist at this time. We've been walking 4.8 miles on the weekends - and I feel good that I can hit that mileage without dying.

This weekend, one of our new marathon buddies (Wendy) is taking us up Mt Peak in Enumclaw. 1.2 miles of "straight up hill." I'm not sure why I've agreed to this. Everyone else is game. So I just said, "yes." Wendy is bringing walking sticks for Liz and I, the bigger girls of the bunch. I have to tell the internets that hiking really isn't my thing. No, it is not. I'm certain a post of hilarity and humiliation will be just around the bend. As long as I don't hurt myself...then all will be well.

Speaking of "hurt" - I'm tending to a wounded arch. Or something in that region. Last Thursday, I worked from home. The sun was peeking out and made me feel "all summery" and optimistic. I slipped on some flipflops and spent the day firmly planted in them. Come to think of it, I wore them the night prior (to Awana). Lee is always telling me, "Those things are horrible for your feet, your arches, blah, blah, blah." I will only say this because he doesn't read this blog: my husband is right. But oh, in the name of fashion. I do adore flipflops.

I've been wearing some "special tennis shoes" that I feel are bulk-meisters. My Mom passed them my way after deciding they are too wide for her (read: my feet are wide). My orthotics fit perfectly within - and so that's what I've been wearing. Morning noon and night. Around the house. As I sit in my jammies at the computer. I've also been trying to stretch my calves, which are the tightest things this side of New Jersey. I think it's all linked. oye.

My last words for this rambling blog. I'm saving my "nics" for some new summer kicks. Runner's World ran an article this summer that I took note of. They rated summer sandals. The pair I'm getting can be found here: http://www.solesandals.com/ Not sure what sassy color I'm investing in, but invest, I will. Summer and flip flops just go together. Even if I have to pay 80 smacks for them. :) Which flies in the face of my recent thriftiness...but you can't put a price on foot health. Can you? :)

This fabulous photo was taken on Saturday by Ginger. We walked 4.8 with Hope and Erica in tow. The last mile was uphill and the girls were tuckered out. The decline began like this:

...and ended like this. As someone on my facebook posting stated, "Now that's a guy secure in his mandhood." Oh, indeed he is. And, he's a good Daddy. :)

The bolts of your gates will be iron and bronze, and your strength will equal your days. Deut. 33:25

Happy trails to you! :)

kb