Christmas baby photos

Brady's sister was in D.C. for a school trip and our worlds collided for a few hours downtown. I love living at a place that people visit, a place worth visiting.

 For Thanksgiving, while Brady was in England, we went to see Frozen in 3D (twice actually.) Elsie dressed up Layney as "the secret agent baby."

Brady is utterly exhausted from traveling. He still has a trip to Utah and Israel this next month.

I keep a list of lofty life ambitions written on my computer desktop.  It’s strategically placed to motivate me with goals like “Get my doctorate,” “Watch a World Cup live,” and yes, “Go to Istanbul.”

Without years of fantasizing, Brady just up and went to Istanbul this past month. Now, I’m not a covetous person, I recognize we each have our own perks, and jealousy usually passes right over me.  But sometimes when you’re perpetually exhausted, stressing over kids dripping in cold symptoms, and your other half is off experiencing the treasures of the world, yes, you feel a bit left behind.

I’m genuinely glad that fate and a business trip brought Brady to Istanbul. It was good medicine for him to take a break and a step back from life.  It was inspirational to see the beauties of the ancient world, to be provoked by novel sights, sounds and thoughts. Plus, he brought us back a huge brick of Turkish delight.

So, if it ever seems like someone is stealing your dream, my best advice is this: do nothing, just let them. Most goals are not mutually exclusive and there is enough fulfillment in this world to feed us all. Sure, the lucky dog may, and probably will, steal some of your magic. But, when it comes down to it, if you’re not doing something extraordinary, then someone else probably should.

 

Love, Everywhere

It is hard to see God in death. It seems impossible to detect Him in tragedy and it's natural to ask ''Where was God?" after unbearable things happen. As much as I unquestioningly love God, I have asked this about Davis' unexpected death.  For the being that created the world it would've been so easy, so reasonable, so effortless, to save just one life. 

But during those slow moving days that sandwiched the funeral, as I sat in the home of Davis' family, I saw that God hadn't just checked out and sat by to watch.  I felt traces of God everywhere. 

God was there in the tender embraces given to the bereaved by neighbors, friends, patients, and those who came to mourn in unity. God was the fridge full of soups.  God was in the acts of service- leaf blowing, babysitting, car detailing, slideshow, photo-making.  I witnessed Gods love when I observed the long,  streaming, line of people waiting to pay respects at the viewing. God was the strength of the family as they bravely spoke at the funeral. God was in the cookies, the gifted loaves of bread, the flowers that stacked up on the piano. God was all around.
  
I believe you can see God when you see love.

Brady in London

 

Brady spent the week in London. It was for work but he snuck in some fish- n- chips, a walk around Big Ben and Westminster Abbey, and an afternoon doing all things British.

LONDON BUSINESS SCHOOL

A wish and a prayer

As much as I feel I am close to God, He is still mysterious. I have spent my life observing, worshiping, and tracking His patterns, but He and the world He governs, is impossible to predict.

I use prayer as a tool every day but I really have no clue how it works.  I plead, recite, and whisper prayers to a personable God - sometimes I get what I want, and sometimes, randomly, I don't.  I have spent a lot of time lately thinking about what prayer does NOT do. How sometimes God does not save us.  How sometimes God doesn't answer prayers that need a prompt response. Sometimes we pray for something genuinely expecting to get it, and He then baffles us. With all this wondering I have also felt bolstered by prayers- those from my mouth, and those from family and friends.  I have felt an unseen net of prayers catch my fall on days that were hard- another effect I can't explain.

A week ago I snapped this picture of Asian prayer flags. The concept behind these colorful ties felt lovely. These scraps represent prayers, hopes, tied onto a rope to be taken, flown away, carried by the winds to the heavens.  I love the visual imagery of the flight of these promising, yet uncertain, prayers.

The more I think about it, the more I picture my own prayers taking this same route to deity. I believe all my prayers are heard. I feel like God listens to me. Yet it seems like sometimes my prayers fade, fall straight down, get caught in the roots and rocks, and are stopped short. Some sail on to be granted, sometimes returned in a slightly morphed form.