What Does God Look Like?

Enroute between church and home on Sunday afternoons, we sometimes are treated to interesting conversation. This week, Big Stuff asked, What does God look like? Apparently unsatisfied with my lame response - We don't know honey, but we'll find out someday - Small Fry immediately takes up the challenge with all the authority of a theologian. "He wears a long white shirt. His hair is like this (gestures), and he has a moustache." She thinks for a moment, then adds (for humility's sake, surely): "But I don't know what kind of shoes he wears." I'm going to go with flip flops.

Heaven Sent

I got a gift today. I'm watching Small Fry on the playground, and mulling hard and heartbreaking things over in my mind, when I notice a little girl of about 3, with Down Syndrome, was going around the playground giving out hugs. I smile and think, oh how cute. How precious. Her little polka-dotted bow was stuck precariously in her bobbed haircut. Her great big eyes were smiling and delighted. My mind, as it is apt to do, wanders back to my worries, and I look away. But wait... Here she comes, arms outstretched. Oh! For me? A sweet moon face turns up for a kiss. Now how did she know that is exactly what I needed today?

Monday's Provisions

Yes, I know the world is crashing all around us.

And our 401ks look like minus 401ks.
And the election. And the banks. And the layoffs.

And so on, and so on, ad nauseum.

Really, how could I miss the constant barrage of news and conversation on these very topics??

What an unfortunate time to get accidentally free cable.

But still I'm grateful.

Call me One Hot Pollyanna, but I'm actually rather stubbornly determined to be grateful.

I'm grateful for a husband who makes me laugh by saying, hey if the worst happens, we'll just go back to Florida and move in with your parents. (Just kidding, mom and dad!) And I'm grateful for a partner who nods and truly agrees with me when I say, as long as we've got the Good Lord and each other, we'll be fine.

I'm grateful for kids who are so oblivious to the world's woes that they can be happy for hours catching lizards and meticulously constructing fairy houses from sticks and rose petals.

Talk about trust.

I'm grateful for those kiddos, just in general. The opportunity to love on them. Pet them. Make them feel better when they are sick. Delight them with outlandish bedtime stories. Kiss their toes. Grant their wishes. (At least some of them). Cart them around and swell up with poorly concealed pride that I am, actually, their very own mama. Me!

It's easy to forget that there are people in the world who would give anything, anything to love on their babies tonight. And mine are right here! Within my reach. Ready for some good lovin' any old time. Can you believe my luck?!

Me either. But I'm working on it.

How's Your Mom and Them?

An excellent primer for Yankees on the use of y'all.....