11:09 PM
My friend Kiersten was here visiting this week with her kids and we put together this quilt top using Knox's clothes. Once it gets quilted, I'll put a new photo. This is a snuugle under, cuddly quilt.
Project of the week
April 20, 2008
11:09 PM
My friend Kiersten was here visiting this week with her kids and we put together this quilt top using Knox's clothes. Once it gets quilted, I'll put a new photo. This is a snuugle under, cuddly quilt.
11:09 PM
My friend Kiersten was here visiting this week with her kids and we put together this quilt top using Knox's clothes. Once it gets quilted, I'll put a new photo. This is a snuugle under, cuddly quilt.
When are you real?
April 19, 2008
1:04 AM
In our community group/small group we are studying 2 Corinthians. A few weeks ago our lesson was based on 2Corinthians 4:1-5:10. I hadn't read it ahead of time (bad me) and so I was caught by surprise by the question "When is a time you have been totally real?" I didn't answer out loud, but immediately in my head I told myself, "April 13, 2007 when Knox had his accident." There was no hiding behind anything, no thinking about how to be or what to say but just response. Praying, begging, pleading, crying out to God to spare my son. Anguish. Agony.Dread. Not caring what anyone thought. What they did. What they said. Nothing mattered other than the condition Knox was in and the welfare of my family.Then there was 10 days of being. Of knowing I was going home without him. Hoping and Praying I was wrong, but feeling that God was telling me Knox was going to be with Him. I rubbed and patted him and stroked his hair. I slept curled up by his side treasuring that time.I was raw and it was all so very very real.I felt naked and vulnerable like I felt with every fiber of my being. I know there are things I probably don't remember, but what I do remember is in such vivid complete detail that I can watch it in my mind like a movie. What people looked like. What they said. I how I felt. I don't have to wonder what it feels to be real; I only have to remember and I am not that many steps away.
2 Corinthians 5:1
5:1 For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2 For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, 3 if indeed by putting it on [1] we may not be found naked. 4 For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5 He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.
6 So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, 7 for we walk by faith, not by sight. 8 Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. 9 So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. 10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.
A friend has been good to remind me from time to time,that Knox is a finished work. He has been spared much in this life...hardship, affliction, the burden of sin. He has a heavenly home and his joy is complete.
1:04 AM
In our community group/small group we are studying 2 Corinthians. A few weeks ago our lesson was based on 2Corinthians 4:1-5:10. I hadn't read it ahead of time (bad me) and so I was caught by surprise by the question "When is a time you have been totally real?" I didn't answer out loud, but immediately in my head I told myself, "April 13, 2007 when Knox had his accident." There was no hiding behind anything, no thinking about how to be or what to say but just response. Praying, begging, pleading, crying out to God to spare my son. Anguish. Agony.Dread. Not caring what anyone thought. What they did. What they said. Nothing mattered other than the condition Knox was in and the welfare of my family.Then there was 10 days of being. Of knowing I was going home without him. Hoping and Praying I was wrong, but feeling that God was telling me Knox was going to be with Him. I rubbed and patted him and stroked his hair. I slept curled up by his side treasuring that time.I was raw and it was all so very very real.I felt naked and vulnerable like I felt with every fiber of my being. I know there are things I probably don't remember, but what I do remember is in such vivid complete detail that I can watch it in my mind like a movie. What people looked like. What they said. I how I felt. I don't have to wonder what it feels to be real; I only have to remember and I am not that many steps away.
2 Corinthians 5:1
5:1 For we know that if the tent that is our earthly home is destroyed, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2 For in this tent we groan, longing to put on our heavenly dwelling, 3 if indeed by putting it on [1] we may not be found naked. 4 For while we are still in this tent, we groan, being burdened—not that we would be unclothed, but that we would be further clothed, so that what is mortal may be swallowed up by life. 5 He who has prepared us for this very thing is God, who has given us the Spirit as a guarantee.
6 So we are always of good courage. We know that while we are at home in the body we are away from the Lord, 7 for we walk by faith, not by sight. 8 Yes, we are of good courage, and we would rather be away from the body and at home with the Lord. 9 So whether we are at home or away, we make it our aim to please him. 10 For we must all appear before the judgment seat of Christ, so that each one may receive what is due for what he has done in the body, whether good or evil.
A friend has been good to remind me from time to time,that Knox is a finished work. He has been spared much in this life...hardship, affliction, the burden of sin. He has a heavenly home and his joy is complete.
More Swing Pictures
April 16, 2008
12:56 AM
These were taken when he was 8 months old at Friendship Park in Madison or Ridgeland, MS for those of you that know that park. He loved to swing!
The obvious glee!
just to show off some chubby cheeks.
enjoying the ride!
maybe it became a bit too relaxing.
12:56 AM
These were taken when he was 8 months old at Friendship Park in Madison or Ridgeland, MS for those of you that know that park. He loved to swing!
Beautiful
April 14, 2008
9:10 AM
I wanted to post yesterday,but could never figure out exactly what I wanted say and how to say it. Nothing seemed adequate or quite right. I read Josh's blog before going to bed and his expression is perfect. I thought of it every time I woke last night. It is a treasure. Thank you Josh for your words and your understanding.
For Knox
In silent times we strain to hear,
The voice of joy we hold so dear,
And yet when silence lingers still,
We pause with straining heart and will,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
In rowdy times we look to see,
The silly smile and grinning glee,
But when we linger to look twice,
Our hearts always pay the price,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
In family times we long to touch,
The little boy we love so much,
And an open space is ever left,
For we here remain bereft,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
In quiet times we pray with love,
To our God and His Son above,
To care for us who cannot be,
With whom we wish so much to see,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
In merry times we laugh and play,
And life still passes, day to day,
Times come and go and come again,
They pierce our hearts now and then,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
Oh God of grace, Thou ever true,
We bow our heads and hearts to you,
We pledge our all into your care,
And pray our grief, for You to spare,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
Then God of mercy, faithful King,
We lift our hearts and to You sing,
What praise we have, we to you give,
What lives we have, we for you live,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
God of glory, keep thy promise sure,
Thy will in heaven, on earth secure,
And raise us with your powerful hand,
Restore our family in the Promised Land,
Where tears shall stop their flowing.
9:10 AM
I wanted to post yesterday,but could never figure out exactly what I wanted say and how to say it. Nothing seemed adequate or quite right. I read Josh's blog before going to bed and his expression is perfect. I thought of it every time I woke last night. It is a treasure. Thank you Josh for your words and your understanding.
For Knox
In silent times we strain to hear,
The voice of joy we hold so dear,
And yet when silence lingers still,
We pause with straining heart and will,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
In rowdy times we look to see,
The silly smile and grinning glee,
But when we linger to look twice,
Our hearts always pay the price,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
In family times we long to touch,
The little boy we love so much,
And an open space is ever left,
For we here remain bereft,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
In quiet times we pray with love,
To our God and His Son above,
To care for us who cannot be,
With whom we wish so much to see,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
In merry times we laugh and play,
And life still passes, day to day,
Times come and go and come again,
They pierce our hearts now and then,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
Oh God of grace, Thou ever true,
We bow our heads and hearts to you,
We pledge our all into your care,
And pray our grief, for You to spare,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
Then God of mercy, faithful King,
We lift our hearts and to You sing,
What praise we have, we to you give,
What lives we have, we for you live,
With trailing tears yet flowing.
God of glory, keep thy promise sure,
Thy will in heaven, on earth secure,
And raise us with your powerful hand,
Restore our family in the Promised Land,
Where tears shall stop their flowing.
Anne Michal and Knox
April 12, 2008
6:34 PM
Anne Michal loves being the oldest of a "big"family. She has expressed numerous times that she wants to be cheaper by the dozen. If you ask her if she'd rather have more siblings and give up all the extra things she gets to do, she'll tell you in a heartbeat that she'd rather have the siblings.
She loves to snuggle and hold the newborns. Since Jack was a baby she has wanted to have them every quiet time to hold on her chest while she reads her books. She is always careful and very gentle.
She is always a great playmate and was always handy to come up with ways to entertain and make him laugh.
Always ready to give him a hand at things he couldn't do by himself and loved his being able to experience firsts!
Thank you Anne Michal for always being willing to give Knox a hand.
6:34 PM
Anne Michal loves being the oldest of a "big"family. She has expressed numerous times that she wants to be cheaper by the dozen. If you ask her if she'd rather have more siblings and give up all the extra things she gets to do, she'll tell you in a heartbeat that she'd rather have the siblings.
She loves to snuggle and hold the newborns. Since Jack was a baby she has wanted to have them every quiet time to hold on her chest while she reads her books. She is always careful and very gentle.
She is always a great playmate and was always handy to come up with ways to entertain and make him laugh.
Thank you Anne Michal for always being willing to give Knox a hand.
From a friend
April 10, 2008
11:39 PM
04/9/08
A Man of Sorrows
Jill Carattini
"Please--Mr. Lion--Aslan, Sir?" said Digory working up the courage to ask. "Could you--may I--please, will you give me some magic fruit of this country to make my mother well?"
A child in one of the Narnia books, Digory, at this point in the story, had brought about much disaster for Aslan and his freshly created Narnia. But he had to ask. In fact, he thought for a second that he might attempt to make a deal with Aslan. But quickly Digory realized the Lion was not the sort of person with which one could try to make bargains.
C.S. Lewis then recounts, "Up till then the child had been looking at the lion's great front feet and the huge claws on them. Now in his despair he looked up at his face. And what he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and wonder of wonders great shining tears stood in the lion's eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the lion must really be sorrier about his mother than he was himself."(1)
Charles Dickens often spoke of his characters as beloved and "real existences." I have often wondered if the "safe but never tame" Lion ministered to C.S. Lewis half as much as this Christ figure has ministered to others. Lewis was a boy about the age of Digory when his mother lay dying of cancer and he was helpless to save her.
"My son, my son," said Aslan. "I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another..."
The tremendous figure that fills the gospels towers above all attempts we have made to describe him. Yet had we been in charge of writing the story of God becoming man, I doubt it would have been Christ we described: "He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not" (Isaiah 53:3). He was not the stoic, man of nerves we might have imagined. Nor was he the ever-at-peace teacher we often describe. He was, among other things, a man of sorrows.
There is, for me, immense comfort in a Christ who was not always smiling. As I picture his face set as flint toward Jerusalem, my fear is unfastened by his fortitude. As I imagine the urgency in his voice as he defended a guilty woman amidst a crowd holding rocks, my shame is freed by his mercy. And as I picture him weeping at the grave of Lazarus, crying out at injustice, sweating blood in the garden of Gethsemane, my tears are given depth by his own cries. I do not grieve alone.
"But you, O God," cried the psalmist, "do see trouble and grief." Becoming man, the character of God was not compromised or misrepresented. As Jesus knew tears, so the heart of God is one that knows grief. The heart of the Father is one who has lost a Son. "Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted" (Isaiah 53:4). Matthew describes the extent of these words: "Then [Pilate] released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified" (Matthew 27:26). Indeed, we do not grieve alone.
Perhaps those who mourn are called blessed because they are at this point closest to the deepest wound of the heart of God. Until every tear shall be wiped dry, we have before us the hopeful figure of the Man of Sorrows, who bore on his shoulders our grief and his own. "My son, my daughter, I know."
Jill Carattini is senior associate writer at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.
(1) C.S. Lewis, The Magician's Nephew, (New York: Harper Collins, 2001), 83.
This article came from this website: http://www.rzim.org/
Thanks friend!
11:39 PM
04/9/08
A Man of Sorrows
Jill Carattini
"Please--Mr. Lion--Aslan, Sir?" said Digory working up the courage to ask. "Could you--may I--please, will you give me some magic fruit of this country to make my mother well?"
A child in one of the Narnia books, Digory, at this point in the story, had brought about much disaster for Aslan and his freshly created Narnia. But he had to ask. In fact, he thought for a second that he might attempt to make a deal with Aslan. But quickly Digory realized the Lion was not the sort of person with which one could try to make bargains.
C.S. Lewis then recounts, "Up till then the child had been looking at the lion's great front feet and the huge claws on them. Now in his despair he looked up at his face. And what he saw surprised him as much as anything in his whole life. For the tawny face was bent down near his own and wonder of wonders great shining tears stood in the lion's eyes. They were such big, bright tears compared with Digory's own that for a moment he felt as if the lion must really be sorrier about his mother than he was himself."(1)
Charles Dickens often spoke of his characters as beloved and "real existences." I have often wondered if the "safe but never tame" Lion ministered to C.S. Lewis half as much as this Christ figure has ministered to others. Lewis was a boy about the age of Digory when his mother lay dying of cancer and he was helpless to save her.
"My son, my son," said Aslan. "I know. Grief is great. Only you and I in this land know that yet. Let us be good to one another..."
The tremendous figure that fills the gospels towers above all attempts we have made to describe him. Yet had we been in charge of writing the story of God becoming man, I doubt it would have been Christ we described: "He was despised and rejected by men, a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering. Like one from whom men hide their faces he was despised, and we esteemed him not" (Isaiah 53:3). He was not the stoic, man of nerves we might have imagined. Nor was he the ever-at-peace teacher we often describe. He was, among other things, a man of sorrows.
There is, for me, immense comfort in a Christ who was not always smiling. As I picture his face set as flint toward Jerusalem, my fear is unfastened by his fortitude. As I imagine the urgency in his voice as he defended a guilty woman amidst a crowd holding rocks, my shame is freed by his mercy. And as I picture him weeping at the grave of Lazarus, crying out at injustice, sweating blood in the garden of Gethsemane, my tears are given depth by his own cries. I do not grieve alone.
"But you, O God," cried the psalmist, "do see trouble and grief." Becoming man, the character of God was not compromised or misrepresented. As Jesus knew tears, so the heart of God is one that knows grief. The heart of the Father is one who has lost a Son. "Surely he took up our infirmities and carried our sorrows, yet we considered him stricken by God, smitten by him, and afflicted" (Isaiah 53:4). Matthew describes the extent of these words: "Then [Pilate] released Barabbas to them. But he had Jesus flogged, and handed him over to be crucified" (Matthew 27:26). Indeed, we do not grieve alone.
Perhaps those who mourn are called blessed because they are at this point closest to the deepest wound of the heart of God. Until every tear shall be wiped dry, we have before us the hopeful figure of the Man of Sorrows, who bore on his shoulders our grief and his own. "My son, my daughter, I know."
Jill Carattini is senior associate writer at Ravi Zacharias International Ministries in Atlanta, Georgia.
(1) C.S. Lewis, The Magician's Nephew, (New York: Harper Collins, 2001), 83.
This article came from this website: http://www.rzim.org/
Thanks friend!
More Park Pictures
April 9, 2008
10:34 PM
Here are some more park pictures. He hadn't been walking too terribly long and had great fun exploring and climbing!
sliding with Lizzy...and Mommy once again forgot to put the camera on action mode.
I want up THERE!!!
Playing with Anne Michal.
climbing and
climbing...notice that like his brother mouthwork aids all endeavors.
running
I miss patting that padded bottom; I know the sound and the feeling.
10:34 PM
Here are some more park pictures. He hadn't been walking too terribly long and had great fun exploring and climbing!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)