Two Short Stories of the Evangelically Challenged...

~Story #1~

I picked Jack up from preschool yesterday and we had this conversation about his day:

ME: Jack, what did you learn at school today?

JACK: We learned about the Bible!!

ME: Cool! What did you learn?

JACK: Oh I can't tell you.

ME: Why not?

JACK: It's a secret Mom - we're not supposed to talk about the Bible with anyone.

~Story #2~

Jack is singing the song "Jump, Jump, Jump into the Light, Light, Light." He loved singing the chorus.

Over and over and over again.

JACK: (singing at the top of his lungs) Heeeee is the Liiiiiight! Heeeeee is the Liiiiiight! Heeeeee is the Liiiiiight! Heeeeee is the Liiiiiight! Heeeeee is the Liiiiiight! Heeeeee is the Liiiiiight! Heeeeee is the Liiiiiight!

HOPE: Yeah, Yeah, OKAY JACK. He's the light, I get it. Now be quiet.

Vacation Revelation, Part VII

I can read!

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Since I graduated college, I haven't done much pleasure reading. I've done a lot of reading for work, things like all of Patrick Lencioni, Malcom Gladwell, Marcus Buckingham - stuff like that.

But I haven't read any novels.

Until vacation when I started reading a little book called....

Twilight.

Don't judge me.

And now I can't stop. And every book I've read I've been obsessed with finishing. It's like I can't concentrate on anything else!

What's happening?

Since my vacation began on August 28th, I have read the following:

• Twilight
• New Moon
• Eclipse
• Breaking Dawn
• The Secret Life of Bees
• My Sister's Keeper
• Shutter Island (this is the new Scorsese movie w/ Leo DiCaprio that's coming out soon. I HIGHLY recommend it)
• The Russian Concubine (again, don't judge me)

I'm still reading The Russian Concubine - so I can't give a report on that one. But all of the others one were awesome. AWESOME!

On my bookshelf, just waiting for me to read them are:

• Say You're One of Them
• Friday Night Knitting Club
• Time Traveller's Wife
• Water for Elephants
  
• The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society

I'm loving it. I have very little interest in television (which I am also loving).

Reading is so.....

Satisfying.

Who knew?

I Love my Husband.

That is all.

Vacation Revelation, Part VI

"Schedule" is a dirty word.

____________________

In the words of my favorite comic Calvin & Hobbes, “there’s never enough time to do all the nothing you want."

That was our vacation this year. Oh sure, we did stuff – but the vast majority of our time was spent hanging out by the pool.

My favorite conversation of our vacation was as follows:

Heidi: So Kurt, what do you want to do today?

Kurt: I don’t know – whatever we feel like.

(long pause)

Heidi: What day is it?

(another long pause)

Kurt: I have no idea.

It doesn't get any better than that.

Vacation Revelation, Part V

Vacation is about Excess.
________________________

(This blog post could also be considered a vaction "confession" - but a confession implies an apology of sorts- and I make no apologies about this particular vacation behavior).

Let me preface this blog post with this: Don’t Judge Me.

We usually eat reasonably healthy food. We occassioanlly have have junk food – but we work to keep it under control.

Unless we’re on vacation.

As far as I’m concerned, Vacation is synonymous with Excess.

Do what you love to do – and do a lot of it; so long as it’s fun and relaxing (and legal). I’m not with really down with doing excessive amounts of work on vacation. You get the idea…

Anyway… the Goble Family enjoys Comfort Food.

So when the Goble Family goes on vacation, we bring out the Comfort Food (in abundance).

And a Comfort Food staple for us is GORP.

GORP stands for “Good Ol’ Raisins & Peanuts.”

Okay, so NOTHING about raisins and peanuts sounds comforting (or appetizing).

So we’ve made modifications (actually, it’s an old Rekstad Family recipe that has been carried forward).

Remember.

DON’T.JUDGE.ME.

This is our version of GORP.

Sigh.... It’s beautiful, isn’t it?

(you have to click on the picture to truly appreciate its beauty)

Of course, we also buy excessive amounts of new clothes while we're on vacation because by the time we get home, none of our clothes fit us anymore. But hey... You take the bad with the good, right?

Vacation Revelation, Part IV

Fresh air smells foul to 7 year olds.

_______________________________

We step off the shuttle and into the most beautiful place I’ve ever been.

We’re deep in the heart of Zion Canyon in Zion National Park.

It’s early morning (about 7:30 or so).

The breeze is cool.
The river is flowing rapidly about 100 yards from us.

There are trees all around us – and off in the distance is a beautiful meadow.

The rock cliffs that soar several thousand feet into the air are a deep rust color and seem to go on without ending.

There’s no one else around.

Hope and I are hand in hand as we start down the trail.

I inhale deeply – close my eyes and just soak it all in for a minute.

Hope does the same.

She inhales deeply and immediatley looks up at me with a look of disgust.

“WHAT is that smell, Mom?”

"What smell?" I demand. How could she hurl such an insult at the most beautiful place in the world?

She inhaled again - and this time cut it short with a load groan, "Ugh! The air STINKS!"

I try to compose myself amid such blasphemy.

I inhale again.

"What you smell is called fresh air, Hope. Fresh.Air."

"Yeah well...." she mutters and her voice trails off...

(long pause)

"... it stinks."

Sigh...

Vacation Revelation, Part III

Laugh and the world laughs with you.

Fart and you stand alone.
___________________________________

We’re on the shuttle in Zion National Park.

There’s a little old married couple sitting two rows in front of us.

They’re so sweet together – he’s talking and she’s laughing softly.

I see the man rocking back and forth in his seat, trying to get comfortable.

Suddenly the look on the woman’s face changes. She looks irritated.

No more smiles, soft laughter or chatting.

Without warning, she gets up and moves to another seat at the front of the shuttle and glaring at him the entire time.

The man shakes his head and continues rocking.

And then I hear it.

A sort of muted trumpet sound.

What? What is that? Is that an animal? What is that?

I look around and don’t see anything.

No one else on the shuttle seems to notice anything.

The little old man is looking around the shuttle as he rocks from side to
side; undoubtedly searching for the source of the weird trumpety sound.

Our eyes lock.

He stops moving, mid-rock.

I hear the trumpety sound again.

The man gives me a big grin.

Wait…

The trumpety sound seems to be in time with the old man’s rocking.

I begin processing.

Sweet little old lady becomes irritated and leaves husband’s side to sit in the front of the shuttle.

Sweet little old man rocking back and forth – seemingly in sync with the weird trumpety sound.

Old man’s big goofy grin is followed by more rocking and trumpeting.

And then the wind changes….

The little old man’s grin widens as my eyes begin to water.

Dear.Lord.In.Heaven.

WHAT is that smell…

Fortunately we arrive at our stop just as the gray fog is enveloping the rest of my family. We dive off the shuttle and breathe in the fresh air.

I hear the little old man laughing as the shuttle drives away.

He’s still sitting alone.

Rocking.

And trumpeting.

Vacation Revelation, Part II

I am more relaxed when my hair is stringy, my face is freckled beyond all reason and I'm not wearing any make-up.

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When I'm at home, I never go anywhere without putting on make-up and doing my hair. It's just one of the many things that I'm uptight about.

But on vacation? I couldn't care less.

Behold, my vacation face...

I Think it's Perfectly Normal; Part XXVI

My second toe is shorter than my big toe.

Hope's Homework Assignment

Hope’s first homework assignment as a Second Grader was to learn about her name. Who picked it, what it means and why it was chosen for her. She then had to present her findings to her class.

When I read over the questions we needed to answer, my heart sank.

I wasn’t concerned that the assignment would be too difficult for her.

I was concerned that the assignment would be difficult for me…

The story of how Hope got her name is kind of a heavy story – and I’ve never really sat down and told her about it. I’ve told her parts of it – but none of it was presented to her in a way that would enable her to talk about it with a room full of second graders.

See, Hope’s name came from a time of great sadness and fear in our family.

I was four months pregnant. It was my third pregnancy – my first two had ended in miscarriage, so I was pretty nervous about losing this baby too.

The call came on Thursday night before Memorial Day weekend.

It was 7:30.

My mom hadn’t been feeling well for quite a while and had undergone several tests – the most recent being a colonoscopy.

The colonoscopy showed a bowel obstruction. Surgery was required.

The diagnosis was grim.

Colon Cancer. Stage 4.

The call that I got was from my dad. Through his sobs, he choked out the words, "The doctor said 6 weeks."

My world stopped.

I didn’t need to do the math to realize that my mom was going to die before my child was born.

How could this happen?

My mom didn’t care how it could happen – she was going to make sure that it didn’t happen.

Her response to the doctor was, “You’re wrong. I’m going to be here to see my grandbaby and that’s that.”

It was a time of fear.

Sadness.

Anxiety.

There was such a sense of finality to every conversation that took place.

6 weeks came and went – mom was still here.

Could it be that the doctor was wrong?

We received a new diagnosis.

It wasn’t Colon Cancer, it was Ovarian Cancer; still Stage 4. The doctor assured us that this was good news. “Ovarian Cancer responds better to chemotherapy” he said.

It was a time of optimism.

Possibility.

Anticipation.

Hope...

Hope that my mom would live.

Hope that my baby would live to be born.

Hope that I would see my mom hold my child.

Hope….

In July, we had the "big" ultrasound.

I remember hearing the words: Healthy… Baby... Girl…

I called my mom to tell her.

We cried together.

Hope Noel was born on October 25, 2001.

My mom came and held her in the hospital.

It was a time of victory.

Triumph.

Hope…

The doctor gave us 6 weeks.

God gave us 16 months.

It was a time of family healing.

Love.

Joy.

Hope…

Mom went home to be with Jesus on September 21, 2002 – just a month before Hope’s first birthday.

This was the last picture of them taken together.

It was a time of incredible loss.

Pain.

Sadness.

Hope…

Hope that comes from knowing, that because of Christ's love and His sacrifice, I will see her again. That my baby Hope will see her again.

It was - and still is - a time of hope....

Vacation Revelation Part I

Three year old boys should not attempt housework without direct supervision.

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I was straightening up the house. I had just finished throwing a load of clothes in the washing machine when Jack walked up to me and insisted that he help me.

I gave him little jobs to do – throw this in the trash, go set this on the coffee table, go sit on the quietly on the couch to keep it from flying away (you’d be surprised how often that one works), etc…

Little did I know that he had his sights set on something that was a bit more…. involved.

I continue my whirlwind cleaning tour with great speed and focus as I am eager to finish because I’m in the middle of reading the book, “Breaking Dawn” (the fourth and final book in the beloved Twilight saga) and taking a break from reading it has produced symptoms that can only be described as separation anxiety.

In my blinding dedication to return to my book, I focus all my attention on getting the house clean.

And then it hits me.

I haven’t seen or heard from Jack in quite some time.

As if sensing that I was thinking of him, I hear from shout at me from the hallway.

“Momma! I just do the waundry!”

No…..

I drop what I’m doing and run toward the laundry room. He’s not in there.

“JACK?!” I shout my voice filled with panic.

“In here Momma!” came the cheerful reply.

It was coming from the bathroom.

Oh.

No…..

And just as I turn to make my way to the bathroom, I see him standing there – naked from the waist down, grinning from ear to ear, his shirt totally soaked, "water" all over his face, holding out a ball of sopping wet clothes – which have now created a pool of “water” at his feet.

“My helping you Momma! I did the waundry for you!"

With great trepidation I manage to sqeak out the words, "Where did you do the laundry Jack?"

"In the tooolet!" he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

My mind immediately starts in with the coping exercises that it has so diligently practiced since the day Jack was born. Breathe.... Don't look at water now pooling around your feet.... Breathe.... Look at how cute he is.... He just wants to help.... Breathe.... You love him more than life itself..... Children are a precious, precious gift.... BREATH...... BA-REEEETHE!

I stand over the toilet with the eyes pinched shut for about 35 seconds before I finally look.

Judging from the substance in the toilet, the “waundry” wasn’t the only thing he did in there.

Sigh....

Can't blog....... reading Twilight series

I heart Edward Cullen.

Don't judge me.