I Had This Idea...

I was going to do a wonderfully detailed account of 2008 as a year in review type thing. What I discovered is that it takes a long time to recount an entire year! Instead, I'll just hit the highlights.


February (what day, I'm not sure)- Edwin and I decide to pursue the IMB and look at doing mission work. This is just when we decided to start the application process. We weren't entirely sure that the timing was right, but God made that abundantly clear in His time.


March 21- Ella entered our worlds, making DeLaynie a big sister. I was a little unhappy about having a C-section, especially after pushing for 2 hours, but she is healthy and happy. What more can you ask for?

DeLaynie's actual reaction to seeing her sister for the first time. It didn't take long for them to warm up to one another, though.

July 24- I start this earth-shattering blog. Edwin gave me a digital SLR camera (oooooo, ahhhh) for my birthday, so I thought that I could use this blog to show off my budding skills as a photographer. I'm not so sure about skills, but I certainly use this blog as a way of posting pictures of my beautiful subjects (a.k.a- daughters).

My main intention was to use it as a way to chronicle the missionary process. By this time, we were completely confident that we were meant to go overseas, though we were still unsure exactly how it was all going to play out.

November 7- After attending the conference for potential short-term missionaries, Edwin and I discovered an intense desire to head to Nicaragua to serve the people there. We've never been there, but the people of Nicaragua are already planted into our hearts.

December 15- We pack up and move to Alabama. As difficult as it was to leave the people of Middle Creek, God gave us a peace in knowing that we were following Him. He is so faithful to His children! Here we remain for a little while.

December 29- It was a mere two days ago that the single greatest occurrence of the year struck! Okay, not really, but I needed a transitional statement. I got my haircut, and apparently this is news. In order to make the sweet commenters happy, I am posting photos of my hair as it is now.

I'm not sure why, but having your photo taken by your husband for the purpose of showing the world a new haircut, that isn't even dramatic, is a bit awkward. My brother was sitting on the couch, and he was admittedly uncomfortable. And it wasn't because of a loose spring. Anyway, there you go. That's the way to end the year with a bang! To close out 2008, here are pictures... of me? You can't say that I don't give the people what they want.

Have a wonderful, safe New Year!

~Hannah

I Gotta Haircut... (and other, random things)

Yep I did it, and I liked it too. I'd been wanting one for a long time. Ever since moving here, I'd tried to call the salon where I had my hair done in high school. Apparently, they're closed for a little while. I couldn't handle it anymore.


B. Wal, don't freak out. It was just a couple of inches. Edwin and my mom could barely tell a difference, but there is one. Most notably, there aren't nearly as many knots as there had been.

Moving on from the ever-so-exciting subject of my hair, I would like to say that I got six shirts from Kohl's for $.22. That's right. Twenty-two cents. Not dollars, cents. My mom gave me some Kohl's bucks that she got after shopping there. They were free to her, so I'm not counting that money toward the total. If I did, it would be a little over $23 dollars, due to tax. Either way, that's some darn good shopping if you ask me.

All of them are short-sleeved. Due to the insanely warm fall Alabama is currently experiencing, I saw no need to buy sweaters just so I could buy short-sleeved stuff later to take to Nicaragua. It's hot there... really hot.

Finally, I would like to give Los Cabos Cantina a shout-out. We went there yesterday for lunch, and the place was very close to empty. This concerned me, but the food was very good. I want to keep these people in business, so if you're looking for a good place to eat in Montgomery, I recommend Los Cabos Cantina. There are lots of Mexican places, but this one is in the old Cucos location. There's a new bowling alley in the old theater there that will open in January, so make a night out of it.

Finally... A New Devotional!

So I've been neglecting writing the Bible studies as I had been. I haven't quit; I assure you. It requires quite a bit of thought and time, and those have been in short supply lately. I have now updated The Dwelling Place, and I will do my best to get back on schedule with it. I love writing the studies, so it's not that the desire is lacking, just the resources of time and mental capabilities.

My goal is to work our way through 1st Corinthians. It's a pretty long book to study a few verses at a time, so it may take a while, but I think that it will be worth it. I'll change directions if and when I am confident that is what needs to be done.

Hasta luego! (See ya later.)

From the Deepest Corridors of my Heart

I'm not sure why it is, but recently people have felt the need to tell me horror stories of missionaries that they have known. So far, none of them have dealt with children. For that I am grateful.

Let me back up quickly and mention that God has been tugging on me recently. He has been working to remind me that my dreams are simply not the point of this life I lead. He has been pointing out some issues of pride and over-confidence that need to be dealt with. He has used several methods to do this, including aforementioned horror stories, this morning's sermon, and a song that I had probably heard a thousand times before, but had never really listened to.

All of this has left me feeling heavy. I'm grasping the risk that we are taking, and the possible sacrifices that may have to be made along the way. I couldn't care less about the stuff we'll be getting rid of. I'm grateful for the need to unload the junk that clutters our lives. The single greatest concern that I have is my girls. Although bad things happen everywhere, even in the grand ol' U.S. of A, it would be naive to deny the fact that by going overseas, we are upping certain risks. I have said it before, and I will say it again: anyone who wants to get to them will be forced to go through me. And I can be pretty scrappy when it comes to my babies. All the same, it is a risk.

I am completely confident in the decision to go overseas. To not do so would be disobedience on our part. That doesn't mean that every aspect of this decision makes me happy or leaves me feeling warm and fuzzy. When I think about the future that lies ahead of us, I keep coming back to one thing Jesus said.

Luke 14:26 "If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple."

Whenever this verse comes up in Sunday school, someone will usually say something to the affect of, "This doesn't mean that you really hate your family. It just means that in comparison to your love for Jesus, the love that you have for them appears to be hatred." I think that this is completely accurate statement. The command to honor and love your family members is reiterated time and again in the Bible. What we fail to do is discuss what this actually looks like in real life. For me, right now, this means accepting the fact that following Christ into the mission field may mean harm coming to my girls. He has not promised us physical safety for this adventure. It does not mean that I am not extremely careful in protecting them, but when it comes down to it, He takes precedence. If He doesn't, I am mistreating my girls by not teaching them the most important of all lessons. That being, Jesus is first!

I mentioned a certain song earlier. It's called, "The Hammer Holds" by Bebo Norman. It has seemed to me that it must have been written for me personally. In the first two verses, we are introduced to a piece of metal that is being shaped. He doesn't know what that shape is or what his purpose will be, but he is confident that he will find out. Toward the end of the second verse, he wonders whether he is to be a piece of art, and all of the pain of refinement will pay off in the form of beauty in himself. In the final verse, however, we discover that he is just a nail. Not only is this piece of metal a simple piece of hardware, he is to be used to kill an innocent man and hold Him to the cross. So often we hear that God is refining us into something beautiful, and that all the work He is doing is a way of getting to the point where He can point to us and boast in how wonderful we are as a final product. This is true in some aspects, but at the end of the day, we are meant to hold Jesus up in all of His pain and suffering. When we contrast the minor pain of suffering that we experience to the intensity of His sacrifice, it is obvious that our focus is misplaced. He is the point. If it means that I must place my children, whom I adore and would willingly endure any type of physical or emotional abuse in order to protect, on the metaphorical alter, that is His call. I serve a good God, and His goodness is not based on what He does for me. He has already endured the weight of my sin and the punishment that I deserve for my sake. What right do I have to ask for my personal comfort in light of that?

Below is a recording of "The Hammer Holds". I hope that you enjoy it, and that you are able to listen to the words. It has been a great source of comfort to remember that in this task, as in all others, my Father is the One holding the hammer that refines me and prepares, and He is the One who held the hammer that placed the nails into His own precious Son for my sake. How can I hold back my children when He refused to hold back His?

The Hammer Holds - Bebo Norman

5 Years in the Marriage Tank!

That's right. Today is our 5th anniversary. Five years ago today I was getting gussied up for our wedding, counting down the moments until I would be Edwin's wife. I was nineteen. I don't recommend that most people get married so young, but for me it was the best possible decision. There are no regrets, only joy. I've spent 20% of my life married to Edwin, and it is my sincerest hope to see that number hit 80% and higher. There's only one way to get out of this marriage, and we're taking our time getting to it.

Here we are right after moving to Louisville our first summer after getting married. That would be Emma the cat in my arms.

Just before our first anniversary at Thanksgiving.

This is Christmas, 2005. I'm great with child, that would be DeLaynie, at this point.

January, 2007. Here we are in front of the White House. It was cold. Check out our poor snow baby.

Last Thanksgiving. I am quite pregnant in this picture. DeLaynie looks so young!

This year, just after decorating the Christmas tree at mom and dad's new house. We couldn't keep a clip in DeLaynie's hair, but she is a girl, I assure you.

The Day Before Christmas...

I know; I'm soooo original. I've come to terms with the fact that my creative writing for the week is going to lack a bit of creativity. It's been a busy day.



Micah, gotta love him, forgot the fish. What do you want from the boy? He's a teenager. He shouldn't have to think about buying fish while having a night out. (Love ya, Mikey;) This required us to find the fish today. That would be Christmas Eve. We know nothing about Montgomery as it is now days. A lot of things have changed since I lived here in high school. The last I remembered, there was a pet store in the mall, but like I said, things have changed. This meant that there was only one option: WalMart.



We were in a hurry. It's never good to be in a hurry when going to WalMart, but it is ludicrous to go into WalMart, in a hurry, on Christmas Eve. After searching for a while, grabbing something Mom needed to hang a wreath, or something equally festive, we realized that this particular WalMart had no fish! I was angry. I was not in the Christmas spirit at all anymore.

I admit it. I was running through a mental list of who to blame. There were a few good options, of which I was one, but we saw another WalMart before I could come to a conclusion. I ran in, quite literally, and found some fish. After realizing that tropical fish would require a heater, which has a price tag 4 times that of the fish, I decided that goldfish are perfectly acceptable pets for a four-month stint. Even getting that far would require some Divine Intervention. I eventually dragged an employee to the tanks to get my new best friends out, and after a matter of only half an hour or so, was able to get through the "express" lane.

DeLaynie hugged the bag, threatening to squish the fish a number of times and to pop the bag the entire time. Neither occurred. She was delighted, accept the couple of times that I took the fish away as a way of protecting them from her over-excitement.

When we arrived at the house, we put our fish, who she named Diego and Swiper (yes, from Dora), into the tank, still bagged, to acclamate. A few hours later, they were freed to swim in the 1 1/2 gallon tank that they now call home, or they would call home if they could say or do anything other than breathe and swim. There they remain, in spite of a few attempts to "rescue" them from their prison of water and plastic by my activist daughter.

Chistmas Countdown!

Things are starting to shape up here at the Attaway residence. Boxes are being emptied. Clothing is being washed. Gifts are being wrapped. Actually, I finished my gift wrapping today. I just hate to change tenses in the middle of a thought.

We're getting DeLaynie (and Ella, too) fish for a part of her Christmas. "What?" you ask. "Just before moving overseas, you invest in a pet?"Edwin wants DeLaynie to have a pet because she loves them so much. She was so excited when we found a lizard in the house. She almost loved the poor thing to death before we were able to rescue him and set him free outside. Still, the timing does seem off. Well, let's face it. The fish is going to die before the move. If something amazing happens, and Flipper (or whatever we name it) pulls through, we can find a good home with someone, I am sure. Micah (my brother) would be a good parent to our yet un-bought fish, especially since he donated his fish tank to the cause. We weren't going to invest much into a pet that is more similar to a plant than a real pet, like a cat or dog. (No offense, fish lovers, but let's admit that they are more for decoration than for play.)

Edwin had the idea to get a closable plastic container for the fish so DeLaynie could carry it around. He isn't much of a realist. I don't think that the idea of DeLaynie's precious, little scaled friend dying really bothered him as much as the idea of De sitting there, staring at an untouchable pet. I tried the argument that she needs to learn boundaries, but it wasn't effective. The argument that a dead fish is sad did, however.

Micah is supposed to buy our new family member tonight while he's out on the town. He's also buying Mom a towel rack. That boy leads an exciting life, I tell ya.

I have to get back to unpacking (Montey Python's Holy Grail style "Yea..."). Happy Hanukkah to all of my Messianic Jewish friends. I have always wondered how you manage to celebrate so many holidays. Hats off to you!

Pictures Make-Up Day

Now, my card reader for my digital camera has been broken, which is why there are no recent pics on this blog. I figure I'd make up for it now that I have the card reader.

Youth Christmas Party Pre-Game Photo Shoot:

This is what we like to call, "as good as we were going to get". Sad, I know.

Thanksgiving:

DeLaynie, looking pretty in her box of rice.Ella, looking all cute.

Bowling Extravaganza:

Edwin and Travis, probably laughing at my score.

Megan, maybe praying for mercy from the evil pins.

Wallaway Goodbye Special:

DeLaynie, checking out the tree.

Woodstock, as handsome as ever.

Stinkerbell and Ella. Obviously, Stinkerbell is thrilled with the photoshoot.

Silent Afternoon

My parents are at the new house, working to get things ready for the official move-in. Edwin and DeLaynie are at the playground at the church. Ella is asleep. (She, unlike DeLaynie, sleeps better here than in Kentucky. Must be the humidity.) This leaves me alone, on the computer, with only the sound of the tapping keyboard ringing in my ears.

I'm so glad to be sitting here, not thinking about much of anything, ignoring the unfathomable number of boxes that fill this house. It's a difficult task, but I am totally up to the challenge.

Tonight we are going to decorate my parents' Christmas tree. It's a time-honored tradition. Unfortunately, Edwin is allergic to the pine trees, as we confirmed last night. He carried the tree off the tree farm, and a few hours later, his arms were swollen and red. It wasn't severe in either category, but definitely noticeable, and most assuredly uncomfortable. I'm guessing that we'll put him in charge of garland to keep him away from any and all flora.

I will put one of the Baby Jesus ornaments that I made on their tree and one on our tree. Because I'm just that happy about them.

I need to finish some Christmas projects, so I'd better take this opportunity to do so. Have a fun day.

Packing and Unpacking... Simultaneously

My parents are working on moving into their new house. We're working on moving into their old house. Add a toddler (who thought that a pile of fire ants was a sandbox yesterday) and an infant, and you have a very interesting situation. Interesting and messy. Messy and chaotic.

On the plus side, once it's over, Mom and Dad will be in their first (last, and only) home, and Edwin, the girls, and I will be in the pastorium, with more room than we know what to do with. Certainly more room than we have furniture to fill. We plan on living in the downstais only and using the upstairs only for the tub (for the girls) and the washing machine/dryer.

There's still a little bit of Christmas shopping to do. That includes Edwin's gift. I have no idea what to get him. I never do. I give him the item, ISBN number, store name, and door-t0-door directions on how to get there on whatever it is I want, but he's not too helpful. He never really wants anything. I'll try my best to be creative and figure out something brilliant. I know; a puppy! That's the perfect gift when you're about to move overseas. We can just leave it with someone else.

We have a small (6') tree up, with Murray the snow star on top. I never can find angels that are biblical in the least, so I reject them on the whole. (All of the angels listed in the Bible were men, and scary. Cherubs were actually the scariest of all angels, in my opinion, and were not baby-like in the least.) The stars are usually overly ornate. I found this only slightly tacky star that is in the shape of a star, but actually a snow man, with a scarf, hat, and carrot nose. We named him Murray (as in "Murray Christmas!"), and he lives atop our tree.

Well, there's much to do. Edwin's taking a well-deserved nap after a lot of hard work. I'm trying to get the kitchen knocked out today while mom's at work. We'll see how that goes. Wish me good providence.

Here I Am!

I am thrilled to announce that Edwin, the girls, and I are alive and well. I'm not sick. We just moved. We are now Alabama residents once again.

My parents will be closing on their house next week (did you know that you had to close on a house that you were having built?), but due to a gracious builder, they should be able to move the big furniture in tomorrow. Then we'll all have a little more breathing room, and maybe fewer boxes. The girls have been living with boxes for a couple of weeks, and I know that they will be relieved to be back to furniture living. (Remember what I said about modular living? Forget it.)

Have I mentioned yet that it's insanely warm here? We're talking about the 60's. The town where we lived in Kentucky got snow yesterday, and we're stuck in a pseudo-fall. I feel jaded. It's really throwing off my equilibrium. I'm sure that the bitterness will subside when we get to Costa Rica for language training and realize that 60's is winter in some countries.

Hopefully I'll get back to regular blogging and life kinda-sorta as we know it soon. Back to the boxed life...

We Did It!

We actually got to bowl. Edwin was very happy. Unfortunately, Travis beat him into a cute, little, pastoral pulp. Fortunately, Megan and I were both able to get a strike. That's all I'm going to say about our game. We spent the warm-up frames (the first half of the game) taking pictures in order to distract ourselves from the situation. My card reader is broken, or I'd share the photos with you. My guy sure does look hot in those bowling shoes!

Before going to bowl, we went to The Cheesecake Factory (also spelled Y-U-M-M-Y!). This is where Edwin discovered the avocado, and where both of us discovered that it could be eaten in egg roll form. It's hard to dislike anything in a crispy wrapper and fried. After the appetizer and pasta main courses, we ate cheesecake. 'Cause you can't go wrong with cheesecake. Unless you're trying to lose weight. In that case, put down the ever-lovin' fork and get yourself a cucumber. They taste just like cheesecake. No, really. They do.

We had a great time with the Abraham's. They're a fun couple. We always enjoy our time hanging out with them. I don't know when we'll be able to double-date with them again, but I hope that it won't be too long. God has always been faithful in providing wonderful people in our lives. I don't know how that's going to work in another country, but I know that even if we are lonely, God is still God, and He is still good.

Bowling!

We tried to go bowling for Edwin's birthday a few weeks ago. Sadly, we got there too late on league night, and bowling didn't happen. We still had a good time hanging out with B. Wal and her hubby. Edwin was disappointed though. He loves bowling. He owns his own shoes and bowling ball. They haven't gotten much use in the last few years.

I am a terrible bowler. For years it bothered me that I was so terrible, in much the same way that miniature golf causes me to have Dr. Jeckyll to Mr. Hyde-like transformation. Nothing brings out the red-head in me quite like a game of putt-putt. I can bowl now without emotional trauma, and usually without sin. I think that I might could pull down a game of putt-putt, but I'm not going to try that one yet. The first (and only) time that Edwin took me to play, it was a low moment in our young relationship. I was hoping that we'd be married before he saw my temper. Why I agreed to that silly game I will never know! (It should be noted that my temper has been dramatically reduced at this point. Living with Edwin has limited my ability to express anger in traditional ways. That's mostly a good thing.)

So we're going to give bowling another shot tonight with the Abraham's. They're a fun couple, and I know that we'll enjoy the time together. I'm just hoping that we actually get to bowl. I don't know if Edwin could handle the disappointment of another lost opportunity to bowl. I'm going to be the worst bowler there tonight. I can handle that. There's no shame in it. "I'm Hannah, and I couldn't knock over a pin with a bat." Well, someone has to be the worst, and I'm jsut the girl for the job.

A Good Team

I had this theory that the putting the girls' beds on adjacent walls was the cause of our lack of sleep. There's a situation that I had pictured in my mind:

DeLaynie: "Hey. Ella, you there?"
Ella: "I'm here. What d'ya want?"
DeLaynie: "I know it's my night to keep them up, but I was hoping that you could fill in for me since I did such a great job the night before last... and you barely woke them up twice last night."
Ella: "Huh! I don't think you realize how grumpy Mommy was yesterday because of that performance you gave. I let them sleep for our own good. But... okay. I'll fill in for you, slacker!"
DeLaynie: "You're the best, sis. Can you believe that they still don't think that we can talk?"
Ella: "You are good... Enjoy your night off. I get a full night of sleep tomorrow night, you got me?"
DeLaynie: "No prob. Go get 'em!"

Recently, however, we moved Ella from the adjacent wall to another. Yet, we're sleeping less then ever. I guess that it's possible that my theory was incorrect. And I thought I'd had it all figured out...

Packing... Part 2

We've been a-packing. The really fun part is that DeLaynie is in toddler heaven because there are boxes everywhere, and the only furniture is our beds. I keep hearing her say, "In fox!" "Out, Daddy, out!" She prefers to say fox to box. She can say the "b" sound in other words, but she doesn't care for it in reference to a box. I don't know why she'll only ask Edwin for help getting out of boxes. I think he may be gentler in yanking her out.

On the other hand, we're packing. We have some wonderful youth gals coming over this afternoon to help. Thank goodness for teenagers!

Miraculous Occurence

I know that you were all on the edge of your seats about my stuck drawer. After months of pulling on the goofy thing, I decided to give her one more try. And it opened! I don't know if there were prayers involved, but I just wanted to let you all know that miracles really do happen. Some of them may be even bigger than a drawer opening.

Packing... Part 1

Today we have begun the tedious, though not altogether unpleasant process of packing. There's a certain part of me that enjoys the emotional aspect. It helps in reaffirming what's happening. It's also nice to get everything organized. I can't wait for Saturday night when all of our house will be packed into nice, neat boxes. It's no way to live long-term, but for a short period of time, it's kind of relaxing to be all modular.

There is one major issue. My nightstand has a severely stuck drawer. The middle drawer simply will not open. Something must have jammed the silly thing shut. We tried shaking it, pulling as hard as we can. Still stuck. I've been wondering for about a year now (since I discovered it) how the sticky drawer situation would resolve itself. I'm not totally sure that it will now that the time is upon us. We may just have to store it with the drawer snugly closed. I still have some hope that the move will shake whatever it is that has jammed the drawer shut to move out of the way. There's always hope. Even for drawers.

I should probably get back to the task at hand. DeLaynie is ornery. Kind of like a bulldog with lipstick, just without the lipstick.

DeLaynie and the Nativity

The church was decorated for Christmas today. DeLaynie, like any two year-old, got very excited at the sight of all of the shiny, bright things that covered the sanctuary. She was especially drawn to the nativity scene. She kept wanting to play mommy to Jesus. She would say, "Look at the baby; such a sweet baby." I tried explaining that Jesus is a special baby. We didn't get too far on that concept, but she did try to say Jesus a few times.

After seeing how enamored by the nativity she was, I decided to pull ours out for the first time. I received it as a gift last year. It's very pretty, but it's high-shelf, no-touchy pretty. It isn't the one that I want to use for explaining the Christmas story to DeLaynie and Ella because I want them to feel free to interact with the figures.

So I started looking for a nativity scene that was kid-friendly and attractive for decorative purposes. Not an easy task when you don't want to spend a crazy amount. There are some that are toys, and aren't intended for any kind of display. There are others that make Mary look like a four year-old. Not a good message. Then there are the crazy expensive ones. And I have yet to find one that has a non-white holy family. One of the wise men may (or may not) be dark complected, but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph are always as white as Wonder Bread. And um... Jesus wasn't white. I wouldn't mind one that was a little more abstract, like an unpainted set, where the race isn't addressed.

I will be continuing my search for a decent nativity this week, during the breaks from packing. We'll see how that goes.

A Chance of Flurries... Ha!

The news lady just came on air and said that there is a chance of some flurries later on. This is as snow flakes are fluttering outside of my window. We're talking about slight accumulation here. I'm not sure, but I'm thinking that snow might damage my moving sale's chances. People may be too busy clamoring into Sav-A-Lot to buy peanut butter and condensed soup to get a used chair and end table.

That's fine. We did really well yesterday. God has taken amazing care of us. Even with sales doing far better than I had hoped, we still have plenty of stuff to get rid of. It's a great reminder of God's lovingkindness and provision for His children.

God has been incredibly good to us. He has provided us with a church that has cared for us and loved us for four years now. Not all pastors are able to miss their past churches. It's never a good thing when a pastor isn't conflicted about moving away from his current pastorate.

Even with the sadness of leaving people that we love, we are very excited about this next move. One of the ladies who came to the sale yesterday was asking me if I was nervous about going overseas with two little ones. Her friend piped in before I could answer, "Does she look scared to you? You can look at her and tell that she is confident about this decision." And I am. I told one lady that in some ways, another country will be safer for my girls because we won't have the constant barrage of media. (I said safer, but I meant better.) She looked at me like I was insane. I might have said, "You know, babies are an excellent part of a lion's daily diet," by the way she looked at me.

My girls are tugging on me. I'm guessing that they want me to get off this contraption and be a mommy. It's nice to be loved.

A Giant Playroom

We've moved everything out for the moving sale. We've sold quite a bit, I am very grateful to say. This has left our den barren. No couch. No chair. No end tables. No ottomans. Just nothing. We still have the long table that houses our television and this computer, but that and the hat wrack are pretty much the only grown-up stuff in the room.

Edwin brought DeLaynie's table and chairs in from the kitchen. Her slide is still occupying the great room, along with the single, half-full toy box that we saved. You may think that this is a depressing sight. DeLaynie would beg to differ. She loves the openness. She loves that almost everything in the room is hers. She loves that she can sit her rice box right in the middle of the room and plop down in it. There's none of that pesky furniture to get in the way.

Edwin and I like it too. It's nice to not have to worry about running into anything while trying to get to the bathroom. This idea worries me deeply. I stay awake at night thinking about it.

It would be nice to have, oh say, a chair other than the desk chair to sit in. It's worth not having it though. We're thinking about bringing the air mattress into the den. Sounds like fun to me.

Delirium, USA

I went to bed at 1 a.m. I was up making signs (which aren't all that pretty) and cleaning a few things for the big sale that starts today. That wouldn't be so bad if the girls had cooperated even a little. I prayed that they would sleep later than normal. God said, "No!"

DeLaynie came bounding into our room at 5:15! A.m! She and Ella were officially up and at 'em by 5:45. I'm up, but not all that at 'em. I forced DeLaynie to watch the annoying stretching shows that come on PBS in the morning. I told her, "When we get up, we watch PBS. Since you got up early, you're watching what's on PBS." After 15 minutes of watching a really good looking Hawaiian woman stretch wearing a hot pink sweat suit and about 10 leis, I put in an Elmo's World. Yep, I caved. Who has resolve after 4 1/2 hours of sleep?

I might've fought the battle for more sleep if two things had been different. First, we're out of milk. DeLaynie really loves having her milk when she goes to bed. It's difficult to get her to go to bed without it. Secondly, they were both incredibly happy when they first got up. The last few days have been very emotional for my girls. DeLaynie was pitiful last night when she saw some of her toys (that she hasn't played with in a while) go out the door. Even Ella seems to be bothered by the situation. She doesn't care about the toys, but the lack of stabiblity seems to be effecting her. They've both been sick, and their sleep has gotten off schedule (as apparent from the 5:15 wake up call), so they haven't been in the peachiest of moods anyway.

Well, Ella's in bed for something similar to a nap, though I think it could be called a continuation of last night's sleep. DeLaynie seems like she's about ready to go back to bed too. I think I may fight the battle now, armed with milk. Pray for me...

Looking Forward...

I'm taking a break, according to Edwin's recommendation, from moving sale prep. For a few minutes, I'm going to daydream about something that I've been looking forward to.

I've mentioned my family's traditional Christmas tree hunt. After marrying Edwin, this tradition came to a hault for me. Edwin is allergic to most things outdoorsey. This doesn't bother me most of the time. I dislike the woods, bugs, and heat. (Therefore I'm moving to Central America; that makes sense, huh?) The unfortunate affect of Edwin's affliction is that we haven't had a real Christmas tree since getting married.

Although we're going to have a fake tree in Alabama, my whole family is going to go shopping for my parents' first Christmas tree for their new home. This is the first time for Edwin to go to a Christmas tree farm (I'll give him Claritin; he'll survive), and I think it's Nicholas' (my foster brother) first time as well.

I can't wait to take the girls. I bought them matching little shirts to wear with blue jean skirts and tights. It's Alabama, so I'm hoping that they won't need jackets. That wouldn't be nearly as cute. DeLaynie loves hayrides, provided that they aren't excessive in length, so I'm hoping that we'll find a farm that has them. That shouldn't be difficult.

I've had a nice break thinking about the future memories we'll make. Now it's back to the grindstone...

My Budding Photographer

So DeLaynie got a hold of my camera. I thought about stopping her, but her occupational therapist was here, and I wanted her to believe that I was incredibly encouraging of DeLaynie's artistic ability.

This is her portfolio. There are a lot of pictures of her feet and my kitchen floor because it isn't that easy to push the button, so she presses it against her belly to steady it.

Look out Pulitzer!

The Craziness Begins

Today was my very last MOPs meeting at Middle Creek. The gals were incredibly sweet. They had some really yummy food, including venison meat balls (I really love venison, but we aren't hunters), cheese and crackers, fruit, and a cake, plus Milo's tea. They even had a banner! One of the girls made me a Vera Bradley type bag, but in a much cuter fabric (she matched my blog style, actually, except that it was black with white polka dots.). I love, love, love it! It was such a fun surprise. We played Catch Phrase, but my team lost both times, by a lot. I think it was fixed. Okay, not really, but I hate to lose!

When I got home, we started the very long process of organizing the gigantic moving sale that we are having this weekend. I'm overwhelmed. We have to go through everything. It's amazing to see how much we own. Almost everything that we have was given to us, so it's an amazing thing to see the generosity of the people in our lives.

Organizing for this sale is a different matter from organizing from previous yard sales. It's no longer a matter of, "Well, do you think that we could use this?" It's now an issue of "It doesn't matter if it's cool; it's gotta go!" It's a good spiritual excercise for me. We're getting rid of things that we have thought of as essential to everyday living, like the absolutely necassary iced tea maker. It's freeing, actually. I don't have to think about it. I just price it.

The girls' stuff, however, is a little more difficult. I don't like stealing my children's toys out from under them. I have come to terms with this process, for the most part. As opposed to calling it "parental thievery", I try to think of it as teaching them to store their treasure where moth and rust cannot destroy. That's how I try to think of it, but it isn't always easy when DeLaynie is clinging to a toy that I'm trying to price. We are keeping several things that they are particularly fond of, and Christmas will find a few new things underneath the tree. It's not like I'm leaving my children to play with a paper plate or anything.

This craziness is just a first step toward the complete insanity of following Jesus overseas (technically, you don't have to fly over water to get to Nica, so I guess it's just out of the country). It's a good insanity. A wonderful, adventurous nuttiness that only our King could devise.

A Change of Heart

Very recently, I've had a change of heart regarding Santa Clause, as well as the general celebration of Christmas. First of all, let me say that the arguments I've heard against incorporating Santa Clause into Christmas celebration had no affect on my decision. I've heard people say that they don't want to lie to their children. I'm pretty sure that we don't really have to lie to them in order to include Santa in some way. I'm also pretty sure that most parents who use this argument lie to their children about other things. The idea that we shouldn't lead our children to believe that Santa brought the presents on Christmas Eve because we want the credit for the gifts that we spent so much time and money acquiring just seems selfish, though I understand the sentiment better than I like to admit. These aren't bad arguments, but I could skirt them if I wanted.

No, none of these points made it into my internal struggle. In fact, I was driving to Louisville for a doctor's appointment on Wednesday when it hit me. I was listening to the BarlowGirl Christmas cd. (If you don't have it yet, make sure to hit LifeWay tomorrow.) In the midst of the sleigh bells jingling in the background and familiar harmonies in the foreground, I had an epiphany. That's right, an epiphany.

I remembered a story that B.Wal told me about her son, Woodstock (no, that isn't his real name. She's no sadist.). He was looking through the magazines and catalogs that fill our children's' brains with pro-toy propaganda every year, apparently beginning in September these days. He kept seeing pictures of Santa Clause, but he didn't understand. (I'm unsure of the exact wording of the conversation, but I'm fairly confident of the content.)
Woodstock: "Why is he in so many pictures?"
B. Wal: "Because it's a Christmas magazine."
Woodstock: (rummaging through pages frantically) "Christmas is about Jesus, right? Where's baby Jesus?"

This tells me a few things. First off, my friend is doing a great job in teaching her kids the actual meaning of Christmas. Secondly, focusing on Santa just doesn't make sense, even to a 3 year-old, in light of the miraculous Gospel of Christ. Finally, it reminds me of how much I love that Woodstock, and how much I will miss him, but that's beside the point.

Here is my epiphany: When Santa Clause becomes more than a symbol of the infinitely gracious gift that we receive from God the Father through His Son, he becomes a stumbling block. When lights become more than a reminder that the Light of the World entered humanity in the form of a baby, they become useless. When a tree is more than a way of pointing to Christ as the Giver of Eternal Life, it loses its value. These things are great, but only as long as they point to the eternal meaning of Christmas.

Christ came that we would no longer be separated from the Father. He emptied Himself of His rightful glory and took on the humiliating and helpless form of an infant. He came to die for us, and to defeat death on our behalf. He came to free us from the bondage of sin!

And yet, we turn our focus, and the focus of our children, to an imaginary old man who brings... toys. Seriously? Does anyone else feel swindled? The greatness of the free grace of God has been overshadowed by a game of pretend. What a tragedy.

I'm not saying that Santa Clause should be outlawed in the Christian home. He can have a place in the celebration of the birth of Christ, but a little one. If anything, Santa should only play supporting role, if not a walk-on role, in the traditions of Christmas. To make him more than that is to rob our children of the greatest joy of Christmas. It is to lead them to believe that the grace of God that is poured over us in the life, death, and resurrection of Christ is less impressive than an RC car, doll, or video game system.

I have to say, this realization has brought joy already. I can't wait to share the true wonder of Christmas. I am anxious to use the Christmas tree, lights, and gifts as a way to point to Christ. I hope that I can use this opportunity to draw my babies closer to the throne of God. The greatest gift that I can give my girls this holiday is to help them understand the joy and power made available to us through the Son of God. What a privilege!

The Day Hath Come

Today is the most important of unofficial Alabama state holidays (and let me tell you, that's a stiff competition). That's right, today is the day of the Iron Bowl. The Iron Bowl, for those of you who aren't affiliated with Alabama, (or worse, don't care for football [gasp!]), is the title given to the Alabama vs. Auburn game.

I've heard some people say that there are other rivalries that are just as intense, but these people have never experienced the phenomenon that is the state of Alabama the week of the Iron Bowl. Everything centers around this one game. Coaches have lost their jobs, Mike Shula most recently, due to an inability to win this single game. Even in the midst of Alabama's currently undefeated season, it just isn't good enough until we see a "W" representing the defeat of mighty Auburn.

Allow me to say that my best friend is an Auburn fan. More than that, she and her husband graduated from Auburn. He even received his Master's degree from Auburn. For them it is a moral battle. I can understand where they're coming from, but I just can't cheer for the orange and blue.

I'm an Alabama fan. I have no good reason. My uncle is an alumnus, and Edwin's brother attended for a time before transferring. That's as closely related to either school as I get. For whatever reason, Alabama Crimson is simply a part of me. My dad's an Alabama fan. Edwin's an Alabama fan. After years of cheering for Auburn, my mom is an Alabama fan, as is my brother. Nicholas, who just joined the family, is still cheering for the dark side, but he'll come around.

We're getting a pizza. I've made nacho cheese sauce and cookies. I hope that it will be a good game, a close game. But at the end of the day, I hope that this ridiculous losing streak to our arch rivals will come to a close.

Oh, and ROLL TIDE!

A Very Attaway Thanksgiving

So what does a family do when trapped at home on Thanksgiving, six hours away from the nearest family members? The short answer is, "nothing". This, however, is a blog. A blog could easily be defined as a lot of nothing turned into something. Therefore I will indulge my long-winded soul and expound upon our day. 'Cause I can.

DeLaynie played in her box of rice. Yes, it's a large Rubbermaid box full of rice. It's sort of akin to a sandbox, but with rice inside, and much smaller. You may be confused by this particular choice for playtime, but she loves it. It's messy, but nothing that a broom can't fix. She sat in her rice box and watched the parade. Isn't that what most kids do on Thanksgiving Day? Probably not.

She was a little wacky today. We've had her on medication, including Benadryl, due to her cold. She would randomly start talking about cows. She likes cows. We are about five minutes from a dairy farm, and we pass dozens of cows on the way, so she's familiar with them.

Ella tried to eat the rice. Edwin made a wise decision to put away the magical box of rice, which was an outrage to DeLaynie, who had been doing an excellent job playing with it nicely. This led to a desperate need for the bubble blower, whose batteries appeared to be dead. After a few minutes of begging the bubble blower to work, a few more minutes of begging God to perform a miracle and resurrect the batteries in the bubble blower, and a trip to the gas station for overpriced batteries due to a lack of faith in God to perform said miracle, the bubble blower was back in operation, much to everyone's glee.

This was when Edwin and I ate our lunch. Ravioli lasagna (a much easier version than traditional lasanga), salad, Sister Shubert rolls with honey and butter brushed on the tops (yummy), and derby pie filled our plates and our bellies. It's not a traditional Turkey Day feast, I admit, but we enjoyed it.

Then was nap time, during which Edwin and I played games, and I won. All of them. Every. Last. One. Don't worry. He got me back by making me watch football involving teams that I could not care less about. I like football, but I have to at least know where the team is located and recognize the QB's name in order to get into it.

After the kids woke up from naps, we watched A Muppet Christmas Carol and ate leftovers for dinner. DeLaynie required a lot of holding, cuddling, and sweet talking, as well as a bath, due to a fever and cough. Ella crawled around and begged for our food. She's quite similar to a puppy during dinner time. She can't quite get up to our level, so she sits there, staring at you with pitiful eyes until you give in and give her a bite off your plate.

The kids played well for the rest of the evening, and they went to bed a little earlier than they do when healthy. Edwin and I did some online Christmas shopping and played some more games. He won those. I'm always terrible at night.

That's our Thanksgiving. I know you were on the edge of your seat to know about the menu. It was remarkably pleasant. We didn't have to drag innocent children around, cook excessive food, or even get dolled up. I did make Edwin put on a non-Tshirt, and we put some clothing on the children that wouldn't count as pajamas. That's the highest stress moment we had today. I look forward to Christmas in Alabama, but I'm glad that we had this day for our little family before the craziness of selling and moving things begins. I am quite thankful for a Very Attaway Thanksgiving.

Thankful

I am incredibly thankful for our oldest daughter, DeLaynie. She doesn't follow your typical development chart, so a lot of people don't realize just how much is going on in that head of hers, or her heart. She adds more than she knows to this family, and to the world. She is a nurturer and comforter at heart. She is deeply affectionate, surprisingly patient most of the time, and an absolute joy to our family.

Ella is the baby of the family. She has a smile that, as you can tell, lights the world. She loves to giggle, and loves to be held more than anything. Little Ella keeps us on our toes as she follows us everywhere around the house, including the bathroom. She will eat anything, also pretty evident from the picture. She is a people-person, and she adores her big sister.

I've spoken if Edwin before, but there just aren't enough words to explain how much I love him. He is my best friend, and he understands me better than I ever imagined another person could. It's a joy to know that no matter where we go, I'll always have a great minister with me. (I got pretty used to that privilege growing up.)

Finally, I want to mention a recent development for which I am particularly grateful. Yesterday we found out that we have officially been accepted by the IMB (International Mission Board) to go to Nicaragua to serve the people there. Since the Candidate Conference the first week of November, my heart has become more and more impassioned for the Nica people. We will be learning Spanish in Costa Rica for a few months, following orientation in Richmond, Va, which begins in April. The following months are going to have a lot of bumps, and a few bruises, I'm sure. But what a joy to be bruised for the Gospel! What an honor to endure for the cause of Christ. Yes, I am grateful today. Our King has blessed me and our family richly. I hope that we can share that blessing wherever we go, with everyone we come in contact with.

Happy Thanksgiving!

The Healthy Streak Ends

In a biological war zone, known as our MOPs group, where children were falling ill by the moment, my girls had remained strong. Ella has had a runny nose and a little congestion, but for the most part, I've had some healthy kids. I would like to think that it's because I'm such an incredible mom, but I'm thoroughly convinced that it has more to do with the fact that I'm not a big socializer.

Last night, however, our healthy streak came to an end. DeLaynie had been sounding like she'd been a heavy smoker for 30 years around 8 p.m. By 11, she had a fever and a cough. She was pretty pitiful, but not that unhappy.

The good news? This explains her Little Miss Bossy day yesterday as well as the previously unmentioned grumpiness that has plagued our home for a few days.

This also means that Thanksgiving plans have changed... again. I'm debating between Chinese food and ravioli lasagna. What do you think? I'm intentionally going for off-the-wall here. I have to admit that there's a certain charm in staying put, eating food that is completely inappropriate for the occasion, and watching movies or playing games with my hubby while our toddler is medicated. I would have loved spending the day with friends and their families, but, alas, it wasn't meant to be. Instead, we'll have a Very Attaway Thanksgiving, which means weird. I love weird!

Little Miss Bossy

I've bragged quite a bit about how well DeLaynie does with Ella. We were pretty worried after DeLaynie first saw the new baby in the hospital. To the right is a picture of her reaction when she laid eyes on the intruder. She became very upset when Daddy picked up Ella. My mother was pretty concerned about the situation, but I was thoroughly convinced that there was no way to rectify the situation at that point, so I just accepted that it wouldn't be as easy as I'd hoped.

Once we got home, however, it was no issue. DeLaynie became intrigued by her little sister, to whom she referred as "so sweet" because that's what we would say whenever she touched her.

Most of the time DeLaynie has been incredibly patient with Baby Ewwa (as she calls her). Even when Ella pulls her hair or takes her coloring sheet, DeLaynie just says "No!" and runs away. She has gotten a little too vigorous in her patting on occasion, but it has never appeared to be intentional, with maybe one or two exceptions... maybe.

Today, however, the older sister in her has come out! All day she has been telling her, "no ma'am!" and "Stop it, now!" She became very posessive of the bubbles when the bubble-blowing machine filled the whole kitchen with them. (This is the best ten dollar investment we have ever made. They sell them at a very popular discount store. It's by the Gazillion Bubbles brand.) Ella has learned to pop them, and DeLaynie wasn't as excited about this new trick as Ella.

As a nice, little tangent: DeLaynie thinks that the bubble wand is an actual, scepter-like wand that you are supposed to wave while the bubbles are being blown out of the blower. She insists on holding it whenever it's on. Just thought I'd share.

In some ways, I'm almost glad she's become so bossy and possessive. From what I've gathered, that's normal and healthy for a two year-old. I'll just choose to see it as healthy development, even as I discipline her when she goes too far or loses her temper. Ah, progress.

Giving In To Christmas

I've finally given up. For a few weeks, I've been ignoring the fact that Christmas is coming. It didn't seem like the time was right yet. Every year I try to keep my Christmas excitement pinned up until Thanksgiving. Yet again, I have failed.

Lifeway was having a sale for loyal customers. A part of it was that you could get the BarlowGirl and Casting Crowns Christmas cd's for $7.99, so we bought them. I made it through Saturday, even with the shrink wrap glistening at me all day. Yesterday, however, I gave in. They were both played... several times. (Incidently, they are very good. I highly recommend them.)

Right now, as I type, Mickey's Twice Upon a Christmas is spinning rapidly through the DVD player. Last year I started playing it in September, just because I thought that it might make DeLaynie happy and keep her quiet. It worked really well. I was hoping that it would have the same affect on Ella, but not so much... DeLaynie still likes it.

The Wallaway Thanksgiving Special has been pushed back due to an unfortunate event. We'll probably join a kind and merciful family from our church for Thanksgiving, or we may do one of those really off-the-wall celebrations, like eating Chinese food on the floor, watching the first season of 24. Maybe a combination of both.

No matter how, exactly, we celebrate Thanksgiving, we will kick off the official Christmas season with a trip to see the Christmas lights at Freeman Lake in E-town before coming home to watch a Christmas movie on Thanksgiving night. My personal favorite is A Muppet Christmas Carol, at least for the whole family. My favoritey-favorite is It's a Wonderful Life, obviously. I do love me some Jimmy Stewart... but that's beside the point.

Anyone else having Jingle Bells stuck in their head?

Youth Weekend!

Edwin organized a discipleship weekend. The first event was a lock-in at a laser tag joint in Louisville. It sounded like a lot of fun. I would've loved to go, but there are two good reasons why I couldn't. One is 2 1/2, and the other is 8 months. It's probably a good thing that I didn't go. They were there until 3 a.m. Edwin got to bed at 4:40! It's the youth weekends that make you wonder where, exactly your youth went.

This left me at home, alone, with the kids in bed. What did hip, 24 year-old Hannah do? I rode my bike (indoors), watched t.v. shows on the internet, and went to bed. Because yes, I'm just. that. cool.

The wonderful news is that this year, I'm leading the girls' Bible study, not hosting. I love teenage girls. They make my heart smile with their giggling and excessive packing, but I'm not sure that I'm up to it. It's a good year to teach, not host. We have some good people allowing their homes to be ransacked for the cause of Christ. Good people. Courageous people. Gotta love those people!

This two-coffee day is about to hit the ground running, so I better get ready to sprint.

Snow!

There are snow flurries dancing outside the window. I don't know where they're coming from. The sky is void of clouds, but every few minutes, there will be a few little flurries scurrying through the crisp air. I couldn't capture the flurries on film, but I thought I'd share the backdrop for their performance anyway.

Late yesterday afternoon, there was some real snow. It didn't accumulate, but it was enough to scare some people into saying the "b" word. (You know, blizzard.) It seems like there are always a few people convinced that 2 inches of snow are going to go apocalyptic.

I love snow. I like cold. This cold is a little extreme, I admit, but I'll take it. As long as I can look out the window and know that it's cold, without actually experiencing it, I can handle it. Hot cocoa and central heating. I love cold weather!

Depravity and Super Why

I've mentioned before that I really like the show Super Why. I like the way that DeLaynie interacts with it. I like that she gets so into it. There is a problem with it, though. This show always turns the villain into a victim.

Toward the end of each show, the Super Readers (Super Why, Princess Presto, AlphaPig, and Wonder Red; yes, I said Wonder Red) ask the villain of the story why they keep doing whatever it is that they are doing to cause trouble. The bad guy almost always answers the same way. "I don't want to, but it's in my story." Then Super Why changes the story and the bad guy turned good makes buddies with the original victim. There are some slight deviations, but that's the formula.

It seems like kids have a real issue understanding that they are capable of not doing whatever their depraved little hearts tell them to do. So, why do we create a show that encourages them to refuse to take responsibility and blame some other, unseen force? Even in Christian shows, there always seems to be some sort of reason for the bad behavior. "I lied so I wouldn't get in trouble." "I said that mean thing because she was being mean to me." "I didn't mean to break the vase!"

When do we teach children that they act bad because they are bad? We're doing them a great disservice by not acknowledging their evil little natures. No parent wants to look at his or her child and see sin, but it's hard not to. Just give 'em a minute. Before children can know forgiveness from their sins, they have to acknowledge that they are sinners. They aren't going to come to that conclusion on their own. It's a great priviledge as a parent to guide our children to the throne of God, and the first step is to help them understand that they have "fallen short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). Only when they understand the debt can they understand the grace extended to them.

I'm not kicking Super Why out of the house. I'm just going to take every opportunity to teach DeLaynie and Ella the truth of why they do what they do. It's not enough to teach moral truths. We have to teach spiritual truths. Even as we teach them that we are all sinners, we also have to give them unconditional love. Love and godly discipline go hand in hand.

So, somehow a discussion on kids' cartoons turned into a sermon. I hope it wasn't too annoying. And remember that I'm usually preaching to myself more than anyone else.

Thanksgiving Cometh

I'm excited about this year's Thanksgiving feast. It's the second annual (because Thanksgiving is an annual event, after all) Wallaway (Wal+Attaway) Thanksgiving Special. Last year was the first time B. Wal and I had ever hosted a grown-up Thanksgiving. B. Wal did most of the work, for which I am highly appreciative. I'm also glad that she and her family prefer ham to the traditional turkey. My dad doesn't like ham, so we didn't have it much growing up. I've always enjoyed it though.

I honestly can't remember what all I'm in charge of. I know that I'm in charge of rolls, a pie, something green, and one other thing. What I gather is that B. Wal is all too aware of my lack of expertise in the kitchen and doesn't want her Thanksgiving ruined by a Hannah snaffoo. (Is that how you spell that? I've never seen it written before.)

Unfortunately, this will most likely be the last Wallaway Thanksgiving Special, at least for a while. Next year will find us in another country, if all goes as planned. Who knows what holiday, if any, next Novemeber will see us celebrating. One thing that I do know is that we will be celebrating God's faithfulness, even in the most difficult of situations. Now, that's Thanksgiving.

I'm in a Scavenger Hunt And Other Stuff

Rachel has included me as a part of her bloggy scavenger hunt! She's giving away some good looking prizes, so click on over and check it out.

In other news, I wasn't able to go back to full-time nursing after the IMB Conference. Which is sad for Ella, I guess. I don't think she minds at all, actually. What really annoys me about the situation is that I've already gained some weight since stopping! (I know, I'm quite an the example of ideal motherhood.)

This comes at an unfortunate time, weather wise. It's really, really cold out! I just checked the weather, and it feels like 16 degrees, 16! I can't take an infant and a toddler, who are currently the only completely healthy kids in town, into immunity-demolishing weather like that. (I'm not totally sure that cold weather really does reduce immunity, but why take chances?)

Let's keep in mind that the holidays are coming. It would be pretty easy to let it go until Jan. 1. But I won't do it! If for no other reason, I have no clothes one size up, except for a couple of pairs of shorts. Therefore, I will find a way, or make a way, to lose the couple of extra pounds, and keep it from coming back. I welcome, beg even, you to hold me to it. This is a group effort!

One more note: Silver Treats is holding a jewelry give-away. I wanted in on it, and you can do the same. Head over to SilverTreats.com to enter!

Why, Hannah, Why?

If you are looking for a great way to spend a lot of time getting very little accomplished, I have an idea for you. Puree a pumpkin. A friend of mine suggested it. She's quite impressive. She starts with a pumpkin, and just a few hours later, a pie is formed.

I ran out of pumpkin for my breakfast muffins. (Spice cake mix+ pumpkin puree= pumpkin muffin.) I eat them everyday because they're really low fat and calorie, and they go well with coffee. I decided to give in to peer pressure and make the puree from the pumpkin that we picked out for October festivities, but deemed too gory to cut into in front of DeLaynie.


If I'd had a food processor, it wouldn't have been that bad. What I had, however, was a handy chopper. A cute little device that holds one cup at a time. It took a while, but after a few hours, and one, big mess, I had a pureed pumpkin. A lot of it. Way too much. An amount equal to 7 cans.

The only thing that I use pumpkin for is my muffins. Now I'm going to be spending a lot of time looking for pumpkin recipes. I hate pumpkin pie, so I'll be looking for other uses, such as breads. I have used it for brownies, but Edwin gets bummed out when he walks into a house full of brownie smell without "real" brownies. Feel free to let me know of any exotic pumpkin recipes you have. I love a good recipe.

Eh, it wasn't painful. I'm glad there are people in this world like my pumpkin pureeing friend, but I think I'll go with canned if it's an option. (Granted, if we go overseas to do missions, there may be no option.) Pumpkin anyone? ;)

Happy Birthday Edwin!

My husband turns 29 today! God has given me a great blessing in Edwin, and today we celebrate his grand entrance into the world. I began praying for him when I was twelve, and God has graciously blown me away with the answer He has given me in Edwin.

He is a spectacular daddy, husband, and pastor. He puts his all into whatever he does. He is completely responsible with all that God has given him. He is constantly challenging me, usually without words, to work toward a greater passion for Christ and a better understanding of who He is.

Thank you, Edwin, for being the husband that you are. Thank you for being the man of God that you are. I love you!

Ode to a Good Cat

We found out that Emma, our cat for almost 5 years, was hit by a car today. She joined our family a few weeks into our marriage. I had been begging Edwin for a cat, and Emma walked up to me in the parking lot of our apartment complex. I text messaged Edwin with the message,"I made a new friend... she's kinda hairy."

We don't know how old she was. Every time we took her to the vet, they said the same thing, "She's about 6." Every time for 5 years!

She moved with us to Louisville. She spent much more time inside than she liked, but she didn't complain... too much. We lived next to a water reservoir, and there were a lot of geese who flew around our window. She would make strange sounds, similar to a dolphin, when she saw them. I almost called the vet because I was afraid that she was choking. She was simply trying to seduce the geese into her tummy.

Then she moved with us to Hodgenville. She got plenty of time outside here. That's where she spent her days, running around and attacking various small animals.

Sadly, this is where her days ended. Edwin was especially close to her. After trying to find a good dog, we finally gave up and accepted that we really like cats. Now she has left us. She was a good cat, and we'll miss her.

Should I Start a Therapy Account for the Girls?

Sometimes I worry about messing up my kids. I think about all of the things that I could say or do that would scar them. I think about the little things that my Sunday school teachers said that changed my theology for years. I think about off-handed remarks that teachers made that left a lasting impression on me. And I get concerned.

Then I remember the countless theological discussions that my dad and I had in the car. He would sit through a relentless barrage of questions, trying to answer each one thoughtfully. Many false doctrines met their end during those discussions. I know that it had to be annoying. It was during one of these discussions that I pulled the truth out about Santa Clause. At least that's how dad tells it. The way I remember it, he gave in pretty quickly.

I remember the conversations that my mom and I had sitting in the kitchen floor, and the time that she pulled out her "dream house" floor plans. I don't think that she ever thought she'd get her own home, but it's almost finished now. It's a part of being a pastor's wife, until recently, that there is a peculiar uncertainty. If your husband loses his job, you lose everything. Churches are moving away from the parsonage approach for that reason. I am excited to see my mom moving into the first home she and dad have ever owned. I appreciate her sharing that dream with me when I was nine. It helps me join with her in her joy.

I remember "camping" in the den with the whole family huddled around our gas logs. We would pull all the mattresses in one room, watch a movie, and get something similar to a night of sleep.

I remember the ritual of choosing a Christmas tree from the farm and cutting it down. After that we would watch dad wrestle with the tree until he deemed that it was straight in its stand. Then he would spend way more time than anyone thought necessary putting the lights on in his meticulous way. Finally, we would put each ornament on the tree. Bigger ones toward the bottom, lighter ones toward the top. Well after Christmas, we would go through a similar ritual of taking down each ornament and packing them away carefully for the next year. Edwin doesn't understand the value of such traditions, so I'm hoping that we can find a Latin American tradition that fits our family in a similar way.

I remember all of the camping trips. During some, we thought that we would freeze. Others were so hot that we could barely sleep. Many contained a trip to the ER for Micah. Most included a sunburn for me. All created memories, and (almost) all were fun.

The Christmas before I left home for college, dad framed the page of his prayer journal that he had begun for me when I was an infant. There were lines on the page for various areas, but the margins were filled with random notes as well. I know that his prayer has changed my life, and Edwin's. Dad had been praying for him too, though not by name.

I share all of these memories with the hopes that it will bring comfort to anyone who may find themselves worrying about emotionally scarring their children. Although a momentary slip of the tongue may leave a lasting impression, it's the consistent love and nurturing that really take root. We will make mistakes as parents, but when we strive to raise our children God's way and cover the lives of our children with prayer, good things happen.

I Want to Write a Book

I really do. I have a few ideas, but most of them are nonfiction. Seeing as I have just about no education to back up my theories, I figured that I'd wait until I get some credentials, and some more wisdom while I'm at it. I could use some of it.

On my devotional blog, I'm working through the Proverbs 31 woman. I have realized that the thing that bothers me the most about what I lack is that I have no money-making talents as of yet. I need to learn how to make thread or something. Where's a field? I need to consider it and buy it. That would make me feel better.

No, I think my best chance is to write... something. I think that venture may be a little further down the line. Stay tuned. You'll be the first to know when my first major (or minor) book deal is coming down the pike!

Little Baby Noises

What is it about "ahhh-blah-mooshy-boo" that is so cute? Why does it sound so sweet? Ella is vocal now days. I hear these little noises following me around most of the day. I'll turn around, and there's Ella, crawling behind me, telling me about her day. I just wish I understood.

DeLaynie is talking more too, but she uses real words. Last night she pushed my head toward Edwin and said, "kiss!" I'm not really sure how I feel about that, but I choose to think it's sweet. I guess that it's a good thing that our daughter enjoys seeing my husband and I share affection. I'm sure that someone out there finds it creepy, but I can't come up with a logical reason why it would be.

Ella and DeLaynie have something similar to conversations now. DeLaynie will come over to Ella and say, "It's my sister, Ewwa!" Then Ella will respond with, "aaababadoo". This continues for a while before it turns into pure screeching, which has its own kind of loud cuteness. They are going to be such good buddies! (I hope...)

A New Book Review

I finished A Mom After God's Own Heart by Elizabeth George today. It was good. George has always struck me as a super-woman. I'm not sure that I could handle it. Okay, I'm sure that I couldn't. I found the section titled "From a Dad's Heart" especially insightful into the type of marriage that she and her husband Jim have. I believe that her spiritual gift is service. She really seems to l-o-v-e serving her family. I hope that I can gain a better understanding of ways to implement servant leadership as a mom from reading this book. Although a lot of what she says is her personality and gifted-ness, most of it is Biblical. I hope that I can continue to develop in my desire to love my family sacrificially and give them the best care possible. That is going to get more interesting as we head overseas, but I am sure that the challenges we face there will only deepen my understanding of God's faithfulness.

Ella's A-Crawlin'!

Ella took the next step in her journey toward total mobility (and messiness) today by crawling with her tummy off the ground today. We are super-excited. DeLaynie never crawled, so this is my first time to experience this phase. Here's a video of this exciting development:

Cranky Kiddos

So Edwin and I came home late yesterday afternoon. The kids seemed pretty pleased to see us. Well, DeLaynie did. Ella seemed to be only semi-conscious. They woke up a lot last night. My dad said that it's because they wanted to make sure that we were still here. I like that idea. It's much sweeter than the idea that they're not feeling well or are totally off-schedule since no naps were taken yesterday (the plane's fault). I didn't let them take too long of naps today. Call it punishment, or call it a pre-emptive strike.

Even in all of their grumpiness and tears, I still want nothing more than to cuddle with them and kiss their fat cheeks. They like that for a couple of minutes before wanting to wiggle around. I'll take what I can get.

It was weird to be away from them. Edwin and I kept thinking that we forgot them somewhere. I'd wake up in the early morning and think that Ella must have fallen off the bed. Yes, she usually ends up in our bed for a couple of hours due to falling asleep mid-feeding. Then I'll wake up and move her back, or I'll nudge Edwin, pretend to be asleep, and hope that he takes Ella back to her bed. Whichever!

So I Was on the Plane...

And I was bored, so I did what many of us do while sitting there, trapped. I looked at the catalog that is full of products that can only be sold to an audience who can't go anywhere, isn't getting proper oxygen, and hasn't slept properly. That would be me. Granted, I wouldn't actually buy anything that this excellent publication is trying to sell me, but I have to admit that there were a few items that I found a tad bit tempting until I saw the price. I thought that I'd share one of my favorite products that I would never buy.

I'm not someone who is going to have dead animals on my walls anytime soon. That could change, I suppose, but it's just not really my style. This, on the other hand, is a whole new category of weird. Forget the fact that it's creepy, and I don't think that I'd ever be able to get changed in the same room with it, but why? It's a fake dino-torso. Can you imagine walking into the den at 11 p.m. to grab your magazine and seeing this fella staring at you in the dark? Am I just not getting something? If it were given to me while I was in a college dorm, then okay, maybe I could understand... but this lovely piece of artistry will put you back $89.95! I'm not sure what they would have to pump into the airplane cabin to get me to buy this thing, but it has to be illegal. If anyone actually owns this good-looking guy, I'd love to know why. I need to understand the psyche that would see Rex here and think, "Now that looks like a wise and necessary purchase!"