Can you feel the love?

Ahhh, Christmas... A time to be with family and cherish our loved ones. A time to take 50 bazillion pictures in the hopes that at least one of them will have BOTH kids smiling and at least looking like they love each other. (They do, really! I just hope they love each other this much ten years from now...)

Pre-Christmas fun

Sorry if my last post was a little too gruesome. Here are some random fun pictures from the massive amounts of time we've spent around our house this month:

Joey gets his first taste of a Red Robin banana malt. And his second. And his third.....

Lucy's first taste of Daddy's favorite: EGG NOG!

Joey loves to tackle his Christmas bear and smother it with "kisses." (This bear was a gift from some volunteers and kept him company in the hospital last month.)

Daddy teaches Joey the beauty of earphones -- he kept taking them out of his ears to look at them to try to figure out where the music was coming from.

Lucy loves to build pillow forts, and this time she got Daddy and brother involved in her hidden tea party.
Daddy has some big shoes (and shirts) to fill.

My own personal Clark Griswold. Yes, our one strand of white lights is lame, but better than nothing!

And Lucy's creative hairbow placement is why my son will always wear camo.

Crime Scene

I left the kids under my husband's care a few nights ago to finish my Christmas shopping and I came home to this:






My apologies to the swooners. Yes, that is blood. My 16-month-old son's, to be exact. And I didn't even take pictures of the doorknobs, dresser, pillows, walls, CD player, or his clothing.

This is what happens when I leave Daddy in charge.

To be fair, John was working diligently to surprise me with a clean house. As he moved from room to room vacuuming, Josiah happily followed him, chasing the vacuum and playing with whatever was in his path. But as John was nearly finished, he noticed Joey rubbing his hands together and looking at them. Then he realized his hands were completely covered in blood.

He hurried to wash them off to assess the wound and determine whether it would require stitches, but all he found was the teeniest tiniest little nick on his left thumb--about as wide as a double pin-prick.

Of course, it makes complete sense when you realize that Joey's blood is still being thinned by aspirin, so the bleeding just goes on and on... Ugh. A water-proof band-aid and a little pressure did the trick this time.

I'm no forensics expert, but I seriously didn't expect it to take me two whole days to find everything he bled on! Fortunately it was limited to the upstairs level of the house.

Aside from dreading that each bump or pinch will lead to excessive, unstoppable bleeding, I'm looking forward to ten days from now when he will (God willing) be off the aspirin for good so that we don't have to avoid other people. Doctor's orders: we're not allowed to take him to church, or any crowded place, or be around anyone who has or has had a recent virus. Our social schedule has been pretty limited, to say the least.

I think we'll probably break that rule on Christmas Eve so we can go to church. We'll just plan to ruin our holiday attire by wearing signs that say "PLEASE DO NOT BREATH ON, COME NEAR, OR TOUCH US!" Or maybe we'll just look into purchasing a human-sized hampster ball and coat it with Purell.

Pick me!

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Creepy Old Man

Lucy has been asking a lot of questions about Santa this year. We've not really made a big deal of Santa in the past, trying instead to focus on Christmas as the birthday of Jesus, and explaining the legend of St. Nick as the origin of gift-giving. But at four-and-a-half she is much more aware of images of him broadcast all around us. I'm doing my best to answer her questions without 'lying' to her and thinking it's pretty harmless to let a little Christmas wonder take hold in her mind. After all, she thinks that My Little Ponies and Little Einsteins are real, too.

The other night I admit to not playing fair. I thought I'd use this new-found belief to my advantage. It had been a particularly whiny day on her part, and by dinner time I was done with it. So I asked her if she understood that she had to be a good girl so Santa would come on Christmas Eve. I know, shame on me. Then, to prove my point, I began to sing:

You'd better watch you, you'd better not cry
You'd better not pout, I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town!

He's making a list, checking it twice
Gonna find out, who's naughty or nice
Santa Claus is coming to town!

Then I stopped in my tracks as I realized what I was about to sing next:

He sees you when you're sleeping...

Ewww! Does anyone else find this totally creepy??? Really, my daughter has a hard enough time sleeping without thinking that some strange old man is watching her!

I hummed the next few bars, then commenced with:

He knows if you've been bad or good
So be good for goodness sake!

Phew! Dodged those nightmares, at least for one night.

Deck the Halls

Decorating for Christmas this year looks far different for our family than it ever has. For the first time in our married life, we actually have the space for a real Christmas tree and not just a 4-foot shrub perched precariously on top of a piece of furniture!

As in the past few years, we wanted to carry on our tradition of going to the mountains and picking the perfect tree for us, cutting it down, and hauling it home. This year, you could say our selection process looked a little bit different. We were too late to get a permit (as we had been just a bit distracted last month with Josiah's health), so we decided to find a local tree farm and cut one down closer to home. After driving around yesterday for a while, we gave up and settled for this:



John felt defeated, but it was becoming more clear that if we were going to have a tree at all this year, it had to be done. And he certainly wasn't going to cave and buy a fake tree, so this was our best alternative. Really, "Homer's Tree Lot" had a nice selection. And you can tell by my family's attire that standing outside to make the choice was certainly preferable to the blizzard conditions of last year!

The trunk was trimmed, the tree was tied up, and we tossed it on the top of our car for the six-minute ride home. That's right -- six minutes.

Lucy really enjoyed hanging ornaments, though I had to teach her to spread them out a bit. We're not used to a tree this big, so we've never had very many ornaments (or lights, or garland, for that matter), but all of them mean something to us.


One of my biggest concerns in having a real Christmas tree (and one so big!) has been keeping an active and curious 16-month-old from trying to climb, eat, yank, or otherwise destroy it. John assured me it would be no problem. What do you think?

Nah, no restraint necessary. I'm sure if he could talk he'd be saying "Let me at it!" The shrieking and stomping communicated pretty much the same thing. But after the initial displeasure of not getting to tackle the tree, even Joey got into the festivities. He loves to imitate his sister, so he started to gently try to place random objects in the tree.


Very cute. I'm wondering how long this will last...

A little sparse on the decorations, but it's ours, and it's perfect!

Really, I'm starting to consider shellacking it to preserve it for years to come.

Oh, and I can't forget the eye-sore that is our advent calendar. For years I've dreamed of having a classy advent calendar and filling it with Bible verses about Christ's birth, meaningful activities for the kids, little presents, and other treats. But then John brought this home and I decided the dream can wait another year. No, this advent calendar has absolutely no spiritual value, it looks tacky, and there isn't even a word of English on the whole thing.

But it's filled with German chocolate!

Lookin' good!

We returned this morning from Josiah's follow-up cardiology appointment with the news that his heart looks very good! We are thrilled and praising God that so far it does not look like the inflammation from Kawasaki's has touched his heart or coronary arteries.

For this appointment we went downtown to The Children's Hospital's main campus. Once again, every nurse, tech, and doctor was exceptionally kind and gentle and caring. Joey was not real fond of being there at first, but once the decision was made to sedate him, suddenly everyone was his best friend as he calmly smiled and giggled his way through the rest of the tests. It was indeed entertaining and put us all at ease.

We are extremely pleased to know things are looking good right now, but we will also be returning for a third scan at the end of the month. If there is damage from Kawasaki's, it is certain to show up in the first six weeks. As long as that last scan shows all is clear, it will be the final one at this stage, and there will likely be no need for repeat scans each year, which is also great news!

Josiah does, however, have to remain on aspirin until his third echocardiogram. We continue to be cautious with his health during cold and flu season so as not to risk Reyes Syndrome. It's a little bit frustrating to feel like we have to continue being social hermits, but in the bigger picture it is totally worth it. And I suppose, looking on the bright side, it's keeping our whole family extra healthy for a while!

We are again so appreciative of everyone who has kept Josiah and our family in their prayers! Each day, we continue to see the hand of Jehovah-Rapha (the Lord our healer) touching his little life!

By the Light of the IV Infuser

I looked at the calendar this morning. I can hardly believe it was three weeks ago today that we began this journey with Josiah. It feels like months or longer. Overall, I have really been doing great as I watch him return to himself, gain strength, and provide those precious moments that make me burst inside at the joy he brings. But I have my moments, too, when it all catches up with me, when I weep at the "what ifs" that race through my thoughts, when the weight of it all seems to sit more heavily on me than I am capable of bearing, when I wonder or worry about the long-term affects on his health.

Spending four long nights in a hospital gives one plenty of opportunity to think. It's dangerous. Our thoughts can stray to horrible things, if we let them. The overhead lights were dimmed as low as they would go, and the brightest light by which I could see the outline of my son's chest rise and fall with each breath was the IV infuser that trickled away the smallest amounts of fluid to treat and nourish his suffering little body. It was quiet, and I ached with love for my little boy, feeling like the small moments of time that I held him I couldn't hold him close enough. But I can still clearly see that place where I sat (it was only nine days ago, after all), with the glaring light of the IV machine, and it surprises me to think of how I felt peace. A feeling of peace that I should not have possessed as I sat alone, surrounded by all those machines.

I really thought that November 12 to 16, 2008 would go down in my history book as one of the lowest times of my life. Instead, I see it as one of the most hopeful and peaceful. I can't explain it, except for the fact that I continue to talk to people who tell me they have been praying. Not just our church, our friends, our family, but also their churches, their friends, their families. Your prayers sustained us in that time, and continue to do so.

I spent time in that chair beside Joey's dimly-lit bed in earnest prayer for his life. I also spent a lot of time thanking God for so many things: for the prayers of countless people through which God gave us peace and hope; for the selfless acts of blood donors whose refined antibodies now course through my son's body and have brought him healing; for living just four miles from one of the top children's hospitals in the nation; for that feeling in my gut that told me he needed serious help; for living in an age where rare diseases can be identified and treated; for the knowledge God has given us about the bodies he has created for us, and the doctors and nurses who administer care, especially through the long hours of the night; for the volunteers who add such loving touches as a soft fleece blanket to lay my baby on, and teddy bears to cheer him; for a strong marriage and a wonderful partner in life who kept our family running in my absense from home; for a daughter whose understanding went far beyond her 4 1/2 years and whose countenance and obedience are proof in themselves of the power of prayer; for the opportunity to once again cherish each smile, giggle, and snuggle of our sweet little boy; and for knowing now more than ever that each day we have with our children is truly a gift.

Every day of this past week has been a day of Thanksgiving for us. My hope is that it won't stop after Thursday comes and goes, but that we will continue to offer up prayers of thanks to God for all He so graciously gives us. Especially His peace.

Worth it

Eight days at home of worrying, waiting, wondering...
Seven hours in the ER of anguish, answers, acceptance...
Five days in the hospital of pain, patience, prayer...
One week at home of rest, recovery, realizing I can't do this alone...

And seeing this yesterday...

...has made it all worth it.

The Road to Recovery

Here is an update on how Josiah is doing this week since we arrived back at home...

EATING: He's eating like a champ! Just this morning he ate TWO whole waffles! When we weighed him at yesterday's doctor visit, he had gained back 9 of at least 17 ounces he lost during the week he was sick before he was hospitalized. He still seems to have some trust issues with sippy cups, but does continue to nurse well.

SLEEPING: Last night was our best night so far since we came home on Sunday. He had been waking up often and sometimes staying awake for as much as three hours in the middle of the night. His time in the hospital was very disruptive to his routine, to say the least, as they woke him up to administer medicine or take his vitals numerous times and at odd hours. Then it would be up to me to get him back to sleep, which would sometimes take two hours or more. So it will take some time to return to normal patterns, but we are seeing good progress here.

EXTERNALLY: His rash is all but gone! It isn't visible any more, but there are just a few places where his skin still feels a little rough. It doesn't seem to bother him at all, which is the best part. We are, however, beginning to see the skin at his fingertips peeling, which is an expected part of the course of Kawasaki's. It's like blistered skin, though it doesn't seem to hurt or really affect him at all, other than catching his curiosity.

INTERNALLY: His blood work from yesterday's follow-up appointment shows some improvement. One inflammation marker is still up, which could even be due to the fact that he has cut three new teeth in the past week (yikes!), but we just don't know. And his platelets are still high, which is in part why we have to continue giving him aspirin. We will have to repeat the blood labs weekly until everything returns to normal.

PERSONALITY: Each day we see more of our precious Josiah returning. He is babbling (though still hoarse from a swollen throat and all that crying and moaning for days on end), and he is smiling and giggling! Last night he was bopping to the beat of the music we were listening to. He has remembered all the signs he uses to communicate. He continues to be clingy and skeptical of any unfamiliar face, but we are told that his irritability will continue for several weeks at least.

MOBILITY: Joey is crawling again, but usually only a few 'steps' at a time before he gets frustrated and lays down on the floor. He seems to be favoring his left leg, though it is unclear to us why that would be. He stood on his own last night before his bath for a couple of wobbly minutes, but only took a few walking steps while being supported. We're confident that walking will come as he continues to gain his strength back.

We are so grateful for the many people who have lovingly provided for our needs so we can focus on the needs of our son, and who continue to lift Josiah and our family in prayer! Our strength and peace come from the Lord (Psalm 29:11).

Josiah's Journey

I just spent my fourth—and what I hope will be my last ever—night at The Children's Hospital.

For friends and family who have been keeping up with us through Facebook and phone calls, this entry is a recap. (Believe it or not, it’s an abbreviated version!) If you’ve only read my previous blog post, you know that Josiah, my 15-month-old son, had been sick with a fever since Tuesday, November 4th. After I wrote that blog entry I called our pediatrician’s office and spoke with a nurse who tried to assure me that “sometimes these things take time.”

My gut was telling me that "time" was not our answer. But I gave it one more day.

On Wednesday, I called and insisted that he be seen again. This time I made an appointment with Dr. R, whom we really like and has seen Josiah for most of his well visits. He took one look at my sick baby and I could tell that his gut and my gut were on the same track. He observed his cherry red, cracked lips and the faint rash on his puffy hands and feet and talked through some possibilities. He listened to me talk about how he had stopped eating, stopped communicating with sign language, stopped sucking his thumb or using his hands for anything at all, stopped walking or even sitting, and how he seemed to grow more stiff and pain-filled each time I moved him. He was reverting to infancy and it was crushing me to watch it happen. Instead of jumping to a new diagnosis, he suggested that we draw some blood and find out for sure whether this was viral or bacterial, and then we could move on.

Here, in my version of a nutshell, is what happened next:

At 3:30 Dr. R called me at home to say his blood count did not indicate that his illness was either viral or bacterial, and he urged me to take him to The Children’s Hospital for more tests. Right away. This was obviously devastating and scary, but I did my best to move forward in a hurry. Through my teary eyes I remember grabbing a bottle of water, a granola bar, my cell phone charger, and three diapers. I dropped Lucy at a friend’s house, thinking it might be a few hours...

The next few hours seemed like an eternity as they took the history of his eight-day fever and examined him repeatedly. I was grateful that John got my messages during his work meetings and was able to join us shortly after we had arrived at the hospital.

The blood draw itself was nearly the end of me. He was so dehydrated that finding a vein on his little body took repeated attempts by five different people over the course of an hour and a half. After two blown veins they went to their back-up plan and inserted a tube down through his nose into his stomach and began to push fluids to start rehydrating him (as he would take nothing by mouth). But in his weakened state, I didn’t even have to hold him down through it all. He simply laid there and moaned and looked at me with his pleading eyes. I was holding it together for his sake, but inside I was screaming “Dear God! Please let this one work!”

Even before the blood results were back, the doctors were preparing us for what they believed his diagnosis would be, which is called Kawasaki Disease. There is no single test for it. His extended fever, red and cracked lips, swollen hands and feet, and bloodshot eyes presented a good case for it, as well as the fact that there was no other reason for these symptoms. When his blood work came back showing elevated inflammation markers, all these factors came together and he presented as a classic textbook case of Kawasaki’s. We were relieved to know he would not be transferred downtown to the main Children’s Hospital campus, yet our doctors would work closely with the Infectious Disease department there to proceed with his care.

My baby boy was being admitted to the hospital.

Kawasaki Disease has no known cause. It was identified in the 1960s by a Japanese doctor, but it continues to remain much of a mystery in spite of ongoing research. It’s not viral. It’s not bacterial. And it’s not contagious. Children with Kawasaki’s are very inflamed on the outside of their bodies, and inflammation also occurs on the inside of the body, particularly in the blood vessels.

Treatment of Kawasaki’s involves at least one 12-hour-long infusion of intravenous immunoglobulin (IVIG), which would begin once he was well-hydrated. Aspirin is also used to protect the heart. They transferred us to a private room and hooked him up to a pulse oxygen monitor on his big toe, a blood pressure cuff on his opposite calf, heart and respiratory monitors on his chest and belly, and of course his whole left arm was taped up and immobilized with the IV in what we came to call “the club.” They began the IVIG drip at 11:00 pm, checking his vitals every 15 minutes at first, then every hour through the night and next morning. John and I agreed that he would go home to be with Lucy and I would stay with Joey to be able to nurse him as often as he needed. It was a long night.

By Thursday morning we saw some improvement. He was not as miserable and was more alert, but still had no energy to do more than just lie there on his back and cry with every breath that he was awake for, though he did begin to toss his head back and forth causing his hair to become like one big dreadlock knot. They were giving him Benadryl for the rash that was growing worse, and it also helped keep him calm and get some much-needed sleep.

One major concern with Kawasaki’s is that the inflammation in the child’s body will cause damage to the heart or arteries. They performed an Echocardiogram that morning, which took twice as long as the usual 40 minutes because Josiah was agitated, so they ordered that he be sedated to complete the examination of his heart. They also repeated the blood work to see if the medication was working. We were greatly relieved to get the results back from both of those tests that showed no damage to his heart and that indeed he was improving internally.

Thursday felt like a very long day, knowing his tests showed improvement, but seeing very little external evidence. His rash, in fact, was worse than when we arrived, as it now covered his arms and legs. One sign of encouragement we saw was that he was beginning to sleep on his belly again. That night was a bit better, and we both got about five hours of sleep.

On Friday he began to sit up on his own for the first time in over a week. Then, as if that weren’t enough, he started to grasp things with his right hand and move them! (His left hand was still taped up with the IV.) We added a strip of waffle to the mix of objects and he picked it up and took a bite—his first solid food in 10 days! To cap off the day, when I laid him down to sleep in the evening, he began to suck his thumb—again, a first in five or six days! We were thrilled to see such good signs of his return to normalcy.

Saturday’s blood work showed improvement again, and we started to talk about going home on Sunday. His rash was continuing to spread or fill in on his limbs, but it looked “less angry,” as our doctor put it, and it seemed to be bothering him less as it grew more pale. The determining factor for our release seemed to be that he would be able to stay hydrated, but he was still not drinking from a sippy cup, straw, or bottle. I was thankful that he was, however, continuing to nurse. They removed his IV in the afternoon—the last of the lines that tethered him to his hospital crib.

This morning Joey finally began to drink on his own. It wasn’t much, but they were confident it showed he was greatly improved and well enough to go home. We will have to return for a follow-up appointment with the cardiologist, as well as monitoring his blood until his counts return to normal.

Despite this being one of the longest and hardest weeks of my life, there are so many bright spots and so many things we have to be thankful for… doctors Amanda and Ryan at the hospital who knew Kawasaki Syndrome and made an accurate diagnosis… an angel named Tina who was successful in starting Josiah’s IV… being allowed to stay close to home and having excellent care… Darlene, our overnight nurse on our first two nights who was so gentle and compassionate and knowledgeable about Kawasaki’s, and who brought us a soft fleece blanket for Joey to sleep on and teddy bears for him and for Lucy… friends and family who visited and brought us food and kept us company… the Gildehaus, Gold, and Monroe families who kept Lucy occupied and entertained for whole days at a time… our friend DD who stayed with Lucy in the evenings so John could come back to the hospital… YFCI who let John out of his very important board meetings to focus on Joey… and the dozens and dozens of people praying for us and following our journey through updates on Facebook, phone calls, and messages—God clearly provided the strength for us to make it through this week!

We arrived home this afternoon, and we know that there is still a long road of recovery ahead of us. Joey is gaining strength, but his movements are still slow and labored. We are told to expect that he will be easily agitated and extra irritable as his body heals in these next few weeks. But we are seeing much more of ‘our Joey’ each hour, and for that we are praising God!

Thanks for sharing in this journey with us. I'm sure I'll be posting more thoughts and reports on Josiah's progress in the days and weeks to come...

From the Sick House

What a week! My poor little guy has been down -- and I mean down -- with a fever since last Tuesday. After Lucy had the stomach flu the week before, we were all looking forward to a little more contact with other human beings, but instead we've been holed up here at home. Again.

After a doctor visit on Thursday morning, we started him on antibiotics for what the doc said looked like a mild ear infection. I've never had to give either of my kids antibiotics, and when they do get sick it's usually a short-lived virus and not bad enough for a trip to the pediatrician. It goes against my principle to use antibiotics unless I know for sure it's a bacterial infection. The doctor used the word "might," and so I was skeptical. But that afternoon I watched Joey more carefully and noticed him rubbing his ears with his fists when he cried, so we began to give the medicine a chance. I think I at least expected some gradual improvement after that. He did stop crying as much, and stopped rubbing his ears, so I'm choosing to believe the diagnosis. But the fever and the sleeping continue on. I can't help but thing there's something more to this. A virus, perhaps, and I just need to be patient...

It's hard to see my typically active -- and I mean active -- 15-month-old just sleeping. All. Day. Long. It's like having an infant again. We've seen tiny little improvements (his eyes open a little longer, and some head nodding and signing to ask for water), but overall he's just not getting better yet. He wakes up for about 5 minutes every hour or two, cries a little, drinks some water, or sometimes he will nurse, and then he's out again. I think it's just as hard on me, just to see him like this and feel completely powerless to do anything.

If you believe in the power of prayer, would you remember my sweet Josiah the next time you pray?

(And a special thanks to my good helper, Lucy, for being on her best behavior this week! Sometimes it takes a 'crisis' to bring out the best in us...)

Misplaced Confidence

The following is a blog post from a few days ago by a man in the southern African nation of Zambia. When an old college friend passed this link along to me today, I was amazed at how similar I felt, the day after our nation's presidential election. For me, there is neither joy nor sorrow in the outcome, but more of a reality check that no matter how good or bad the leader of our nation is, has been, or will be, our true hope still lies only in Christ.

Here is what he has to say:

Yesterday, I cast my vote in the unscheduled 2008 presidential election. As a citizen of my country, I am now waiting patiently to hear what the collective decision of the people of Zambia is. In a few days time, we shall have a new president. He will either be the person I voted for or someone else – ouch! As I await the final verdict of the counting that has already begun, I must remind myself, as I have done so many times before, that the future of Zambia does not really lie in the ballot box but in the sovereignty of God and in the gospel of the Lord Jesus Christ. Due to space, I will be very brief in explaining what I mean.

It is true that having “a devil on the throne” will take the nation backwards economically and socially. It will mean that levels of corruption that were beginning to go down will soar once again. It will mean that many investors will withdraw from the country and a downward economic spiral will commence. It will mean that the civil liberties that we were beginning to experience in the nation will slowly get eroded. Yes, it will mean that and much, much more. No one wants that to happen and hence the sense of grief and despair among those who know better if a cheat and fraudster ends up in Plot One.

It is equally true to say that having a godly man of integrity on the throne can only be a blessing to the nation. It would mean greater investor confidence, more fiscal discipline in the public sector and more development for our nation. It would mean a better ambience for the church to carry out its divine mandate of evangelism and missions. So, it only makes sense that if there is such a person among the candidates vying for Plot One, then the hopes of the godly are that in a few days time such a person will be sworn in as Zambia’s fourth president.

I can understand all that. However, we need to realise that ultimately the person who will be our president would have been chosen by God before time began. God is totally sovereign in this matter. He does not only choose the godly but even the ungodly in order to achieve his purpose at that time in history. Sometimes, he wants to bless a people and he gives them a righteous leader. At other times, he wants to judge a people and he gives them a ruler who will break their backs. Yet, this is never out of malice or caprice. At the centre of God’s purpose is the extension of his kingdom through the gospel. You will often find meaning to God’s acts in history by looking at the state of the church at that time. So, whether God gives us a good or bad president will depend on what he wants to do with us as his people today.

We also need to understand that for us to have better leaders in the nation the church must be faithful in proclaiming the gospel. The problem in the world is not bad economic policies but bad hearts and these can only be changed by the gospel, which is the power of God for the salvation of those who believe (Romans 1:16). The gospel has always been the vanguard of civilization and true human dignity. It changes lives in the grassroots of society and, since rulers come from there, in due season it gives us rulers with pure hearts. It is the failure to realize this that makes Christians excited about a new leader coming into power even when the state of the church still leaves much to be desired. That is totally misplaced confidence. Our excitement, rather, should be when a purer gospel finds its way into the homes of our land. That alone is the true hope of Zambia because it produces a righteous people.

Does that mean we were wrong to vote? No, I think we should. God uses our vote to bring whom he pleases to Plot One. But we cheat ourselves if we think that there is a political leader who will bring utopia to our country. Politicians will promise us heaven, but they know that the promises they make are merely to woo voters so that they can get into their much-coveted positions of power. Once they get what they want, history will only repeat itself! Our hope lies in the gospel alone. Christians, even after casting our votes and waiting with bated breath for our new president to be announced, let us get busy with real gospel endeavours, praying that through them God will extend his kingdom in Zambia and even beyond. That is where the future of Zambia lies.

By Conrad Mbewe
Lusaka, Zambia

Little Red and the Big Bad Wolf

A glimpse for you of our Halloween fun yesterday...

Lucy enjoyed her first trick-or-treat experience as an adorable Little Red Riding Hood. We accompanied her up and down the street and a neighboring cul-du-sac, toting the Big Bad Wolf in the little red wagon, who sat contentedly watching and squishing a Crunch bar in his warm hands the entire time. Mmmmm.


Love our pumpkin? With the stomach flu running rampant in our house this week, we neither had the time nor the guts (pun intended) to carve up this pretty specimen. So I got creative with an old lampshade, a square of black fabric, construction paper and some toothpicks. Voila.


I don't like the scary side of Halloween, and I used to say that I wouldn't have my kids dress up, or make a big deal of it. But this year there was no escape from the decorations in the neighborhood, the kids programs on TV (even on PBS), and the costumes and questions everywhere we went. Lucy knew it was coming, so we made the best of it, trying to emphasize the celebration of harvest time and reading good books about pumpkins. (Two of my favs are The Pumpkin Patch Parable by Liz Curtis Higgs, and Too Many Pumpkins by Linda White.) She definitely didn't like the scary stuff, and even avoided going to a few doors where the fake spiders were larger than she was. But overall it was a confidence booster for her as she met neighbors, grew bold in her two scripted lines ("Trick-or-treat" and "Thank you!"), and lovingly shared her loot with her brother.

Stinking frogs

In Bible Study Fellowship (BSF) this year we are studying the life of Moses. In just the last eight weeks I've been amazed at how much the ancient story of this man's life has been applicable to mine. This past week we took a closer look at nine of the ten plagues brought about to show God's power to Pharaoh as he would not let the Israelites go. One in particular has stuck with me this week. Can you guess which one?

Yup. The frogs.

To summarize, In Exodus 8:1-15, Moses was instructed by God to have his brother Aaron stretch his hands out over the waters of Egypt, and gazillions of frogs crawled up out of the waters and onto the land, covering everything in sight. It says that frogs were in the houses and bedrooms, in the kneading troughs and ovens. They were everywhere. Yuck.

Interesting stuff, you say, but what can this story possibly teach me? I used to think the plagues were simply a display of God's power, showing that it was Him -- not Pharaoh or Moses or Aaron -- that was ultimately responsible for getting the Israelites out of slavery in Egypt. But as I read some of the background of the Egyptian culture, I began to understand that the plagues were strategic moves by God against the three great natural forces of life that the Egyptians worshipped: the Nile River, the land, and the sun. Of all the calamities brought against them, the frog plague hit a nerve.

I read that archaeologists have found amulets carved in the form of frogs, showing that the Egyptians worshipped them. One particular Egyptian god named Hekt (or Heqet) had the head of a frog, or was sometimes pictured with the body of a frog as well. For this reason, it was likely that frogs could not be killed, kind of like the sacred rights of cows in India.

Can you imagine worshipping frogs only to have your life overrun with them, and that there was no way to get rid of them?

The writer of our study notes says this: "The Egyptians were forced to loathe this slimy symbol of their depraved worship."

It got me thinking... When we talk about having 'false gods' or 'idols' in our lives, it's easy to think that I'm exempt. I don't worship the sun or an image carved of wood or stone. Even money isn't that much of a struggle for me personally.

But what about my children?

I can't say that I "worship" them, but I do know that there are many times where my kids come first. I feel like they are my reason for living, my priority, my greatest joy in life. And as I do this I am subconsciously putting them before God. But God is full of grace and mercy -- and humor, I'm convinced.

These precious beings he has placed in my care become disobedient (gasp!) and have tantrums (no!) or a messy poopy diaper in the middle of a dinner party (never!). They melt down at bedtime, refuse naps, make big messes, break things, and often keep me from sleeping more than three hours at a time on any given night. As much as I love them and have a tendency to make my life revolve around them, they also want to make me pull my hair out or dig a hole and crawl into it.

I'm starting to have a sneaking suspicion that this is God's way of reminding me that frogs stink.

If my kids have become the center of my life -- which for me is a place reserved only for God -- then the hard days and moments of chaos have become a reminder to me that it is God alone who belongs on the throne, and that He needs to be my reason for living, my priority, my greatest joy in life.

Thank you, Lord, for the delight that my children are! They are a true gift from You and they bring my life so much joy! And thank you for using them to remind me that YOU need to come first.

A Breath of Desert Air

I had no idea that the desert could be such a refreshing place! We are in Moab, Utah, and have spent the last five days exploring and enjoying this amazing corner of our nation. Within 24 hours of crossing the state line, we hiked to Utah's most well-known emblem, Delicate Arch, in Arches National Park. It is truly a wonder of nature, and far more massive than we had imagined.


The kids have done so well with all our hiking. Josiah has gotten a ride everywhere -- whether strapped onto my back, up high on John's back in the Kelty carrier, or on our shoulders (for the shorter trails). Lucy has been a phenomenal hiker and has really enjoyed exploring these new places with us. Here are the kids, perched on the edge of Delicate Arch:

The views have been amazing. Here, John sits inside North Window in Arches NP, with Joey on his back:

I've also enjoyed experimenting with our camera's abilities. Fun fact: I've always dreamed of being a photographer for National Geographic, just so I could make a living taking photos like this one of Turret Arch:

Josiah never complained! He is such a content kid to begin with, so it shouldn't surprise me, but it was just such a joy to see him looking around and enjoying being outdoors. He played with rocks when we let him walk, and he squealed with delight at random times and 'sang' to us. Here he is looking like he is imitating the arch behind him:

Look, ma, a rock! Aren't they cute?

And the primary reason we have for being here at this beautiful time of year was for John to run The Other Half -- a half marathon down a portion of the Colorado River canyon. When he and a friend signed up to run, we figured we'd make a long weekend of it. (Does five days count as a long weekend?) Hey, as far as I'm concerned, he can run as many of these as he wants as long as the kids and I get to tag along! It's really fun to cheer him on as he finishes his races. Here he is just as he's about to cross the finish line in 1 hr 47 min:

Tomorrow we return home to Colorado, having been refreshed in an unlikely place: the desert.

It's that time again

Indeed, it's time for pumpkins and cider and the changing of the leaves -- ALL of which I love. But more importantly, and what I'm looking forward to as I watch the temperature continue to drop tonight, is crawling between my flannel sheets.

After our heat kicked on last night for the first time this season, I got up this morning and stripped our bed and put on our freshly laundered flannel sheets, knowing tonight would be just as cold.

Yup, it's that time of year again. Time for flannel sheets.

It's one of many things that make this my favorite time of year.

What do you like about Fall?

A new look

Every year in the Fall I get inspired to try a new look. Usually for me that means a drastic haircut. But since I already did that a few months ago and my hair can't get much shorter than it already is, I decided to try a new look on my blog. The cool weather outside, my love for everything pumpkin, and the Autumn colors I see everywhere I go--including in the trees in our neighborhood--have inspired me to go with this pretty seasonal background. What do you think? The best part wasn't just that someone else did all the beautiful work, but that it was FREE! Now, that's cheaper than a haircut. And I don't have to wait for it to grow out again to change it!

Super WHAT?

I have grown to appreciate the things my daughter is learning online. She can navigate to the PBS kids website, find her favorite characters or shows, and play nearly all of the games without my help. It's been a tremendous help in keeping her occupied when I need to be doing other things, like putting her brother down for a nap or making a meal or completing a single thought on a phone call. There are a few activities on the site with nearly no redeeming value, but for the most part, she has learned so much from them that, I dare say, they qualify as educational.

Last fall, I believe, a new show was introduced and quickly became a favorite in our house. Super Why's tagline is "With the power to read, we can save the day!" He and his pals use fairy tales and traditional stories to solve everyday problems. It's cute and interactive, teaching letter recognition and phonics, and it's not terribly annoying.

But today I discovered a small flaw that may come back to bite this generation later on: they change the story. They actually change the ending to the fairy tales. Will our children know the true classics when they hear them? Or when fairy tales are used as an analogy, will they understand?

Fairy tales are not a high priority on my list of information I want to impart to my children, but I do understand their value in culture. I suppose it's not a big deal such as a program about changing history or changing the multiplication tables. It just bothered me a little that Lucy was walking around the house this morning saying, "Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your ladder."

All gone!

For the sake of my family and friends, please indulge this photo display of Josiah's first haircut. John convinced me that I could do a good job, so this afternoon I gave it a shot, making a deal with him that if I completely botched it, I could take him to someone professional. It was a bit of a three-ring circus, with all three of us working to keep him still and/or distracted, but in the end it turned out not so bad. He badly needed it, but it has definitely made him lose that 'baby' look in exchange for that of a little boy.


BEFORE the cut: my shaggy baby and his mullet, with a look that says "What are you going to do? And why are you holding those scissors?"


In several places, I cut off FOUR inches! A lot of the 'strawberry' red is now gone. :(


Lucy handed Josiah teddy grahams and a sippy cup of water to help distract and keep him somewhat still.


His thumb helped, too. Toward the end he sat more still, so I didn't have to do quite so many acrobatic moves to get at the right angles.


A view from the back.


"Please, can we be done now?"


After a bath and some dinner, he's looking pretty stylish. Oh, and he was so happy to know that, even with all that hair gone, his milk cup can still balance on the top of his head.

While Daddy was away...

John got home yesterday, a day earlier than planned, from 11 days in South Africa. This was the Big Doozie conference he and his staff have all been working toward, and he worked hard for those days. We were able to talk every day, which was great, and I sent him pictures as often as I could. Besides Oktoberfest, here are a few things captured by the camera of our time at home:


I helped Lucy make a paper caterpillar, and each day at breakfast she took off one link. Then she could count for herself how many days until Daddy came home. This was a looooong caterpillar, and after about Day 3, I was counting the links, too!


We stayed in our pajamas extra long on several mornings. The kids love to 'wrestle' and giggle. Here, Josiah is showing his brute strength, and that he's catching up with Lucy's size.


WARNING: Plastic bags are not toys. Do not let children play with plastic bags. If you do, you're a terrible parent. (Really, he just wanted to unravel them and stuff them back in, and I had to limit what I said 'no' to.)


My mom came to visit for the last few days on John's absense. She was a tremendous help in accomplishing some projects around the house. Here is Josiah's lavender bedroom BEFORE...


...and AFTER! This creamy yellow was half way between Eggnog and Cornsilk. It's perfect with the nursery decor.


Next we tackled Lucy's blue room. Here it is BEFORE...


...and DURING (we let her help after covering the entire floor in plastic, which wasn't hard since she has no furniture right now except a mattress on the floor and a bunch of stuffed animals)...


...and AFTER! The soft petal pink is perfect with her new flowery bedding. It's wonderful to have her in a girly room after having to share with Josiah for so long and match the neutral crib bedding.

Hooray for paint! Hooray for a visit from Grandma! And HOORAY that Daddy is back at home with us!