Am I responsible for what I don't know?

I was feeling pretty convicted about something not too long ago. I made some changes based on what I thought I was being convicted about and all was well. After realizing that I needed to get all my blog posts out of my head, I sat down to pound this particular one out. I started typing, and something in me just needed to research this topic out a bit.

Come to find out, what I was being convicted about wasn't actually a "law" at all. I sat there, staring at the computer, wondering how the heck I didn't know that already.

Now maybe God just wanted ME to observe this particular something, and that's fine, but what bothered me was that I didn't already know the scriptures referring to this thing. And I really felt like I should have.

This brought me back to the "what else do I not know?" question. I am already a little panicked about the years I spent away from the Lord. I feel like I have a lot to make up for. I feel like I should be way far ahead of where I am educated spiritually. And why am I not? Because of how I spend my time.

"I don't have time" never flies with me. I have the same 24 hours in a day that any person in the world has ever had. I fill my day with temporal things that make me feel good in the moment, and then wonder why I don't know more than I do. Even in prayer, I find myself severely neglecting the one thing that I need more than anything. Martin Luther is widely quoted as saying, "I have so much to do today that I should spend the first three hours in prayer." Goodness.

I thought that once God removed television from my list of priorities, things would get easier. And it did, in some ways. Although now I'm having to guard myself against being one of those people who sniff, "I don't watch television..." Big whoop. It's not whether or not I'm watching television. It's how much time I'm spending in the WORD. And what a slippery slope the computer has become. I think it's so easy to not watch television becuase I have the computer. It's screen time, and it's taking me away from studying God's Word. That thrills Satan. Oh yeah.

I'm having a much easier time limiting the computer than I ever did television. Good news. God is good.

It's a work in progress, but my desire is to stay in the physical Word. Keep my Bible open, in the kitchen, pick it up, flip through it, recite it. (This is outside of my dedicated time to study God's Word. We've gone through that lately, so we won't do it again. My excuse was, "Well, I studied this morning, so I'm good until tonight when I study some more. Ugh...) Even in those 5 minutes that I usually plop down and check email, to instead go to the Word. Shouldn't that just be natural for someone who says they are seeking Christ? What the heck is wrong with me?

And I can't complain about what I don't know. I know why I don't know it.

And are we held responsible for what we don't know? Since we have the Word readily available, the Spirit to help, should we know what's in the Word? Do we have any excuses?

I don't.

*and just to add, I do watch television sometimes. It remains one of the only ways I can completely turn my brain off. And we all need that to happen sometimes. :)

Guilty by reason of insanity

*First of all, I want to thank those of you who have said nice things about this blog to me the last few weeks. Especially those of you who did it in person and received a slight nod and a stammered, "thank you." I never know how to respond to comments about what I write here, probably because it's so naked and personal that I normally just assume that no one reads it. That way I don't censor myself. But when I realize that people do read it occasionally, I get a little self conscious and don't respond correctly to those who do say nice things. I'm so sorry for that. Please know I am blessed by you even if I look like I'm about to throw up. And thank you for your written word too. Huge blessings. Really.

I read something this week that said that getting 80% of what you are thinking to your blog is better than 100% of it in your brain only. Hold up, that's not what he said. This is what he said: "Dear writers & bloggers, I've said this before and I can't say this enough, 80% perfect & live always beats 100% perfect & stuck in your head." (Wow, I was so way off on that one.) I'm not sure I agree with that, especially sensing the disaster I'm about to create here. I am sick of having this stuff roll around in my head, though, so 80% or not, here it comes. I might also add that this is actually about three posts in one, so that ought to whip this post into a scattered frenzy. Ready or not, here we go.

The craziness partially started last Sunday morning when a guy in our church came to our small group to share about a ministry he started. I'll share more about the ministry later. I knew he was coming, and while I was excited about hearing his heart, I was also kind of dreading it. He does what I would love to do. I mean like an "If you could do anything in the world..." sort of thing, I would be something like this. As soon as he started to talk, I whipped out my hanky, which one of my friends in our small group found highly amusing. Can I just ask why I've turned into the hugest cry baby in the world? I used to tease one of my sweet friends mercilessly about her crying, and now I'm just as bad, if not worse. At least she won't have to cry alone now. If fact, during the last movie we all saw, I think I cried more than she did. (And yes, I cried the on and off through out the whole small group. Goodness knows what the poor speaker guy thought.) Good grief. Anyway...

I watched this presentation with an aching heart. Selfishly, it was hard. My head was whirling and my heart was heavy when I left small group and walked into our worship room. Then our pastor delivered a sermon that just blew me away. I know I say that a lot, but this time really was just... oh, I don't know. It just tore me up. And not really in a good way. Then I happened to sit down and see the link for the "Kisses for Katie" blog I linked earlier this week. I read that, and that was it. I was just done. DONE.

Fast forward to this morning, and I had a quick conversation with The Wonder of Chelsea. She's a phenomenal person, and I think she nailed me to the wall. And I don't think she meant to, but you never really know with her. ( I love you, really.) We were talking about the Kisses for Katie blog, and what The Wonder said, basically, was that for the 6 years that she's known me, my heart has been for missions. For helping the hurting. Or not hurting. Just helping. (And spreading the Gospel, I'd like to add.) And in these 6 years that I haven't been doing that, I've reeked of guilt because I haven't been doing that. The thing I want to do so much. Go. And help.

Now first of all, it was early this morning when we had this chat, and I was still mighty sleep deprived. She may not have meant this at all. That's what I came away from the conversation with, though. I haven't done anything. About what I want to do.

Another one of the posts I've been wanting to write was entitled, "Losing My Religion." (I don't know where I come up with these titles, but I do love that song still. What ever happened to REM?) This post involved my van. I loved my old, run down van. I was perfectly happy with it, and despite Allen wanting to replace it with a not so run down version, I refused, happy to drive my same old one. Except, that, God began to gently point out that maybe I loved it too much. Maybe what I was saying by driving my old van was that I was too spiritual and too Godly to drive a new van, perish the thought. I was actually taking pride in the fact that I drove an old, run down van.

Can you believe it? How can one person turn driving a clunker into a Pharisaical show of debauchery? One day I clicked on our friend's car website, and there sat a used van that just screamed out to me. Well, actually that was probably God yelling at me, but anyway, I called Allen and told him there was a van we could go look at. He was more than happy. Along with one of the sliding doors that now refused to open, the "check engine" light had come on in our old van, and along with everything else that was wrong with it, he was just ready to let it go. So we traipse down to the dealership and a few several short hours with 3 young children in a dealership full of luxury cars later, I was the owner of a "new" van.

Did I mention this was all the day after the Haitian earthquake? I have to admit that I went into the dealership bathroom and cried, hating that I had to buy a van when all I really wanted to do was get on a plane to Haiti. And give them that money. Not that that makes me a better person or anything. I just hate living in a society where I need stuff like this. But nevermind that. I called my super patient and ever wise friend and said, "A new van? This isn't RADICAL..." I think I cried again. To make matters worse, it was a fully loaded van. It had leather, a dvd player and, to my horror, heated seats. Ugh.

I churned this all over in my heart for a couple of days, when another of my dear friends asked, "Amy, why can't you see that God blessed you with this van? Don't you think that He might be blessing you, especially since you drove a bottom of the line van for like a hundred years?" (Hey, I liked that it had no bells and whistles. It had automatic door locks and windows. A first for me. That was luxury in my book!) But did she have a point? Did God bless me with the darn thing? And not to mention, did I need to be thankful, especially since my precious husband worked hard to provide that van and was ever so happy to do so?

I then had to go back to the dealership the next day to have the van cleaned and whatever they do to it. So they give me a loaner car. They roll out a $50,000 Acura MDX and sent me off in it. I was a nervous wreck driving that thing. It was so loaded, it basically could have driven itself. I did have fun with the bells and whistles, and then, suddenly, after driving it for about half a day, I realized that I was looking at the world differently. I was looking down on people driving clunkers, when I had been driving a clunker less than 48 hours earlier. I felt so sorry for people in their old cars while I cruised around in my small suv that cost as much as houses that I used to help sell a hundred years ago. Once I realized what driving this thing had turned me into, I was ready to give that thing back. What the heck happened? What had driving that thing done to my spirituality? Is my faith that fickle?

Now I'm not saying that you can't be rich and love Jesus. God blessed people in the Bible with great wealth-people like Job and Solomon. This is just all about ME. And how stinky and sinful I am.

So that was it. I felt guilty for driving a van, a "new" van (it's a 2004, btw) because there are people in this world who sleep in card board boxes, and since I'm not helping them, I can feel guilty about driving a new van. At least with the old van I didn't feel as guilty, since they wouldn't have wanted that one anyway. (kidding)

That brings me full circle to what The Wonder and I were talking about this morning. My guilt. I feel guilty for sleeping in a soft warm bed at night. I feel guilty that I have too much fresh, clean water at my disposal that I waste every day. I feel guilty that I can go to Pulbix and just buy food-whatever I want. I feel guilty that I can worship freely, in a country where I'm free to do so. I feel guilty about it all.

And you know what else I realized this week? Not only was I jealous of Katie of Kisses for Katie because of what she gets to do, I feel like she's more deserving of God' love. And of salvation because of what she's doing there. She's certainly more deserving of love from people in her life. Certainly.

It's been a rough week.

So why? Why don't I just get to it? Over and over this week it's been brought before me that you can't wait on a certain feeling or a giant lightening bolt from Heaven before you do something. You just do it out of obedience to God's Word. And everywhere I looked this week, it seemed like everyone was doing something. Except me.

And this is where it is for me. I'm selfish and horribly self centered. I want to be doing what I want to be doing. I want to be living in another country doing serving those people there. And you know what God said? He. said. No.

*sigh*

And it's not just a cop out. He really said no. "Not right now."

And how, you ask, is that possible? That God would tell you NOT to obey His Word of going? I think because of what He has in store for me. He's just saying that it's not time yet. That I will get a chance to go. But not right now. And you know what's harder for me? It's harder to sit still and wait. I feel like I'm watching a football game from the sidelines, constantly yelling at the coach, "Put me in now! Hey, I'm ready! PUT ME IN NOW!" And the Coach is saying, "No, you really aren't ready yet. You have more to do, more to learn, more area to obey. Then you get to go in. But even when you do go in, you have to do it My way, and not your way."

So in the mean time, instead of finding ways here to serve and do, I just feel guilty. For what I'm not doing. Because then at least I'm doing, and not just waiting. Because see, I'm a doer. I like to be moving. Doing. And God is saying, Wait. And Be Still.

And I can't move to Eastlake. Or Gate City. (Don't make me explain it. Just go here and watch it: http://www.brookhills.org/media/series/a-chronicle-of-redemption---part-2-the-law-of-the-land/

And I wish I could. Because then I wouldn't have to feel guilty about living where I do. Can you stand it? How in the world did I get here? So guilty?

This is what I learned this week. Partially what I learned this week. I have to walk in obedience. I can't go and do because God said not to. I could go on mission trips, I could move to where ever I wanted to, but God has not ordained that, and He's not allowing me to. He has said "no" and whether or not that makes sense to me or to any one else, that's all that matters. I know what He said in His Word, and I do want to go, but while He said "Go" there, what that looks like in my life is not necessarily the version of "Go" that I think He's saying in the Bible.

Clear as mud? See, maybe that whole 80% is overrated. Maybe this all made more sense in my brain. Maybe I need bullet points.

• I'm happy and desperately thankful for the van that God and my husband provided.
• I can't move nor travel the world, but that is okay, for now.
• Until God says "Go," I'm staying put. I'd rather obey Him than anything else.
• It's okay that I have a bed to sleep in and food to eat.
  
• I can hear a sermon and be deeply affected and challenged, yet obey what God is telling me, even if that looks differently that what I think the church is looking for.
• It's a heart issue. God is concerned about the condition of my heart, and He will work in my heart until it clearly reflects His own.
• I know that guilt is from the devil.
• I know that God loves me as much as He loves Katie in Uganda.
• Writing a blog post when you're sleep deprived is probably not the way to go.
  

I need to focus on ways that I can "go" here. There are things I can do while I'm waiting. I'm asking Him to show me those things that please Him. That push me out of my comfort zone. That preach that Gospel. That show the world how much He means to me. I'm praying that I'll pull a Nike and just do it. Just go. And do. And stop feeling guilty.

read. this. now.

http://kissesfromkatie.blogspot.com/2010/02/she-was-eighteen-years-old-and-she-had.html

Then go back to the beginning and read the most current ones. Now.

Be Encouraged

I'm going to have to talk about Ruth Graham some more. Be patient. Soon I'll just quote her to myself, in my own head, instead of here and there. I'm sad I'll never get to have coffee with her, but I can't wait to hug her in Heaven. I think I have a small glimpse into her heart, after having spent these last few weeks with her. And I hope I'm not incorrect in saying that I think she would want me to share this with you, copyright infringement notwithstanding. I hope.

I've talked with so many moms here lately that are struggling, myself including. Motherhood, although the greatest blessing, is also the greatest challenge I face. It's just hard a lot of the times. Of course God is faithful in helping me in my struggles, but honestly, there are times that I want to just say, "Heck, this is HARD." without following it up with some grandiose statement of faith.

I think I had also get these ideas in my mind that not all moms struggle like I do. It's hard to share our problems or issues because of a plethora of reasons. So I was looking for some encouragement from a mom who had 5 kids, and pretty much raised them on her own. Surely there were some lessons that I could learn from her-some practical advice worthy of putting to use here.

This is from her book, It's My Turn.

"Dear Journal,
Reading again from Exodus 33:12-16. This job of training five little grahams to be good soldiers of Jesus Christ is too big for me, who am not a good soldier myself. Feeling particularly distracted (or should I say overwhelmed and confused) this morning, I have been looking to the Lord asking, "Where, from here?"

Bill will be leaving soon for the San Francisco meeting. And I almost have a sinking feeling. Not altogether a left-behind sort of feeling, but a swamped, knowing that all the things I have depended on other to do, I shall have to do myself.

And things have not been going smoothly. There is a terrible amount of fighting amoung the children, ugliness and back talk from GiGi, and peevishness on my part backed by sporadic, uncertain discipline.

I am not walking in the Lord's way at all. I am doing what I feel like doing rather than what I ought to do. These verses hit me hard: "She who is self indulgent is dead even while she lives" (1 Timothy 5:6 rsv), and "The fruit of the Spirit is... self control" (Galations 5:22, 23)

Self-indulgence is doing what we want rather than what we ought. I had always thought of self-control applying to tempter or to drink. But what about the almonds in the pantry, the ice cream and chocolate sauce, the candy which I know will add unnecessary pounds and make my face break out? What about controlling my tongue? My tone of voice? Standing up straight? Writing letters? All these and more more need controlling.

And I don't look well to the ways of my household. Regular family prayers at supper table. Children's clothes kept mended and neat and organized. Getting ready for Sunday on Saturday. Well, there's no use going into it all. It just boils down to the fact that I am not being a good mother.

So I took it to Him this morning. I want above everything to be the kind of person He wants. If He had His undisputed way in me I would be. Everything would solve itself. The place to begin is here, the time to begin is now. And as I reread Exodus 33:12-16, the phrase that jumped out at me, which I had never noticed before, was: "Show me now THY way."

P.S. I could not help but chuckle when I read a quote from Mr. Abba Eban in the London Times (June 13, 1980): "...Israelis are not renowned for any spontaneous tendency to agree with one another."

(Neither were little Grahams.)

Oh, isn't it refreshing, to see how motherhood affects even those we think probably has it all together? And I am inspired by the way she sank into the Word. I mean who turns to Exodus to look for reassurance for parenting worries? Unless you already know what's there. (Actually it makes great sense, on second thought. Moses was parenting all those Israelites, really.) We HAVE to be in the Word. We can't rely on His promises unless we know what His promises are and where they are. I am recommitted to turning to the Word for any and all times that I feel off balance. Oh the joys and balms for the soul that are there.


Okay, one more and I'm done.


" 'There is no situation so chaotic that God cannot from that situation, create something that is surpassingly good. He did it at the creation. He did it at the cross. He is doing it today. ' Bishop Moule

It was early in the morning in another country. Exhausted as I was, I awoke around three o'clock. The name of someone I loved dearly flashed into my mind. It was like an electric shock. Instantly I was wide awake. I knew there would be no more sleep for me the rest of the night. So I lay there and prayed for the one who was trying hard to run away from God. When it was dark and the imagination runs wild, there are fears that only a mother can understand.

Suddenly the Lord said to me, Quit studying the problems and start studying the promises. Now God has never spoken to me audibly, but there is no mistaking when He speaks.

So I turned on the light, got out my Bible, and the first verse that came to me was Philippians 4:6: "Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God." And verse 7: "And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus." Or as the Amplified Version has it, "Do not fret or have any anxiety about anything, but in every circumstance and in everything by prayer and petition [definite requests] with thanksgiving continue to make your wants known to God..." (my italics).

Suddenly I realized the missing ingredient in my prayers had been "with thanksgiving." So I put down my Bible and spent time worshiping Him for who He is and what He is. This covers more territory than any one mortal can comprehend. Even contemplating what little we do know dissolves doubts, reinforces faith, and restores joy. I began to thank God for giving me this one I loved so dearly in the first place. I even thanked Him for the difficult spots which taught me so much.

And you know what happened? It was as if suddenly someone turned on the lights in my mind and heart, and the little fears and worries which, like mice and cockroaches, had been nibbling away in the darkness, suddenly scuttled for cover.

That was when I learned that worship and worry cannot live in the same heart: they are mutually exclusive."

Tears of joy, giving God thanks for allowing this precious woman to bless and encourage me. I love you, Ruth.

satan ate my blog

So I had the chance to go to my first Secret Church last November. It was on Spiritual Warfare. I had listened to some Secret Church online, so I basically knew what I was getting into. I don't think I was quite prepared, though.

Off we went, and it wasn't very long before my brain came to a screeching halt. Pastor David said something that didn't sit right with me, so I had to look it up. Now normally, when I pause Pastor David on my computer, I research what I need to, and then hit play and resume where I left off. Uh, yeah, not at Secret Church. Once I got back with the program, he was about 4 pages from where I left off. I looked at my friend who was with me, and we almost lost it. Several people asked me later if I liked it, and I answered like this: "Um, well....."

I did like it, but it was almost too much information for me to take in at one time. I rather think I would like to listen at my own pace. Pause, research, ponder and then resume. Heck, I get lost in a one hour sermon with my questions and needs to dive into "that" further. Can you imagine me in a 6ish hour sermon? Brutal.

Normal people don't have these troubles, I'd like to add.

Another Secret Church is coming up, and No, I haven't decided if I'm going yet. ;) I'm praying over that one. But YOU should definitely go. Here's the link:

http://www.brookhills.org/secretchurch/

So anyway, the last Secret Church was on Spiritual Warfare. Here's the link if you want to give it a whirl. Go ahead. You can pause it when you need to:

http://www.brookhills.org/media/schurch/angels-demons-and-spiritual-warfare/

It was good for me, because this is an area where I actually, definitely don't spend a lot of time thinking. Maybe that was why I was so overwhelmed. I still want to go back and do more research on what I heard. See if I can get answers to some of my questions. But it did teach me to think differently about things that are happening in my life. To recognize that way more happens than I realize it does in the spiritual realms. To pray differently.

Back to yesterday. I have been really struggling with my blog lately. Honestly I just haven't felt like sludging through what's in my brain enough to make sense of it to get it all out. But Saturday morning, God very pointedly told me to get my Leviticus post out. He reminded me that I just need to obey Him, even when it comes to a silly little blog. And He let me see this time why it is so important to obey. I was blessed by my obedience. Tremendously.

He reminded me that I had a couple of other posts to get out too. I will obey, but I'm not gonna lie. It's kind of hard to put yourself out there like this. It's not easy. I also know that my God LOVES "not easy." And I'm glad.

And so I was working on this blog yesterday, and suddenly, it went all wonky. It was unreadable. I fiddled it with it as much as I could, but it stubbornly refused to correct itself. I waited until this morning, to see if it would correct itself overnight (!) and it didn't. The first thing that flew out of my mouth this morning was, "satan ate my blog."

Now I don't know if he really did. I don't know if he really cares about my blog at all. (Someone wrote a piece last week called, "God doesn't care about your blog." That has rang in my head all week.) But I think that I'm getting to a point in my life where not much is going to go unnoticed by satan. And I'm cool with that. I know that I'm under the hedge of protection of my Savior who has already written of satan's destruction. I know that whatever comes to me, God has allowed. So I'm good with that.

But, it made me reflect on that Secret Church and what I learned there. And maybe this wasn't exactly the take away, but I need to see everything in my life through spiritual glasses. Yeah, maybe my silly little nothing of a blog just had a glitch that made it unreadable. Or maybe, just maybe, because the inexplicable way that God keeps using this thing, maybe because of my obedience to God with it or just because, satan decided to try to mess it up. At least I need to be open to that possibility.

And I need to go get out my Secret Church notes. And review all 783 pages of them. Seems like it might be a good time to do so.

I'm scared

And I hate to admit it. But I am. And I'd like to add that this will probably be my most popular blog post ever. It's gonna be awesome.

So last week, Francis Chan posts a video of Christian missionaries being persecuted in Orissa, India. I read that there is a small chance that the persecution is actually political and not religious, but nonetheless, Francis Chan got a lot of people thinking, talking and praying.

Since I am currently obsessed with Ruth Bell Graham, I'm reading every book I can get my hands on about her. She grew up with her family in China where her father was a doctor/missionary. She writes of all that their missionary friends went through. The persecution, the death.

I was already thinking about this after reading Ruth's book, and then the Chan video happened. I've been thinking about this for a long time, really. I've blogged before about how easy we have it in this country when it comes to religious persecution. We know nothing of religious persecution. We have NONE.

I mean my faith costs me SO little. It costs me nothing. I've actually sat in church and though about how easy it is to worship in this country. I sit there and think about men coming in the sanctuary with machine guns. I think about what it it were dangerous to come to church. What if it could literally could cost me my life? Would I go? What if they dragged my pastor out and killed him? Or others worshiping there? I know I'm not the only one who thinks these things, and doing so definitely doesn't make me a better person. Let me just get that out there.

So after reading about this religious persecution last week, I had to go back over all this in my mind. Ask myself some hard questions.

Would I die for Christ? Absolutely. Oh please, kill me now and I'll open my eyes and see Jesus. Despite my misgivings about Heaven, seeing Jesus is something I think about often. I just can't wait to see Him. So yes, kill me dead, please.

But what about torture? Physical torture? Would I ever renounce Christ because of physical torture?

And what about my kids. Kill my kids, sure. They'll see Jesus too. But what if I had to watch someone torture my kids? That would be the worst. I just can't even imagine.

But it happened to some of Ruth Graham's friends. This century. In China.

And why do I need to think about this anyway? I don't know. I think for me, it seems as though I've drawn a line in the sand with how far I'd go to serve Christ. Kill me, fine. Kill my husband, fine. Kill my kids, good. Torture me, my husband or my kids? I don't have an answer.

I've thought a lot about Jesus in the garden too. He didn't want to go through with it. He asked for the cup to pass from Him. I think that it was the separation from God that was the thing he feared the most. The wrath from God for the sin He carried. I wonder, though, if the physical agony he knew He was going to endure made him fearful before hand. I mean he was fully man, and fully God. Did the man part fear the physical part of the process He was going to go through?

Now I know that there are things that God gives us the grace for only once we get there. Not that I think that torture would be easy by any stretch of the imagination. It's horrific, and that's why it's used. I do know if that's what God has called me to, He'll get me through it.

I think too that this is all just how God is sizing me up a little. Seeing just how serious I am about what I'm willing to give up. I'm so fine with giving up my home, my car, my country even. Actually, if I got to give up those things, I'd be ecstatic. But giving up physical comfort and security seems to be a sticking point for me, and it seems to me to be a serious flaw in my Christian character. I'm having trouble reconciling the part of me that says, "Oh yes, Lord, use me greatly. Just don't let me be physically compromised for You."

Doesn't that make God sick? That my love has limits?

I am still praying this out. I also know that God loves me, in spite of my faults. I really want to get to the point where I can say that I'm so in love with the God I serve that I don't care what happens to me this side of heaven. I'm not there yet. And I'm desperately sorry for that.

Zoo!

It was a great day at the zoo!

The lion was close to the fence! It's the closest we've ever been to him, and even though he was asleep, it was cool to see him this closely.

This white tiger was very agitated, which made me very sad, but it was cool that he came up to the glass.

This guy was pacing too, and so he got very close to the glass. It was a tad un-nerving to have him so close! And cool.

Zane's face kills me.

Spider monkey. ;)

These Speckled Langurs were so neat. This guy was videoing them on his phone, and then playing it back for the monkey. The monkey really watched it. Wild.

Laney made a sweet friend!

The two boy monkeys fought and fought and the boys thought it was hilarious. The girl monkey sat calmly by. Just like at my house!

The first time Zane and I went across this bridge, I dragged him literally screaming at the top of his lungs. The next time, I held his hand as he yelled, "DON'T GO SO FAST..." The next time, he went behind me, and then he got brave and started running across it all by himself.

I think there is a serious spiritual lesson in that, but I'm too tired to type it all out. Just live bravely. :)