Letters from Mudville

P.D. James

2012-01-24T23:18:00.006-05:00

I love a well spun mystery but I hate reading novels filled with graphic gore, sex, and violence. That causes a conundrum when it comes to reading modern whodunits, so when I have a yen for mystery I turn to G.K. Chesterton, Dorothy Sayers, or Agatha Christie, all authors from the last century.

Then I met P.D. James. Phyllis Dorothy James White is an British Crime novelist who spent 30 years working in the British Civil Service, including the Police and Criminal Law department. She did not write and publish her first novel until her late 30s, but is now the author of more than 20 books. She was created Baroness James of Holland Park in 1991, and was inducted into the International Crime Writing Hall of Fame in 2008. She is 92 years old.

I was completely ignorant of her work until reading a review last month in the Wall Street Journal of her latest book Death Comes to Pemberley. A continuation of Jane Austen's famous novel Pride and Prejudice with a mysterious death at it's core, the novel is a classic mystery story that draws the reader along with a tight plot, unanswered questions dangled in all the right places, and the loose ends tied in a tidy bow at the end. Ms. James admits that she cannot touch Jane Austen's mastery of phrase and form, but her story is a delightful coda to the Austen cannon of literature and will entertain even those unfamiliar with Jane Austen's work.

If the rest of P.D. James stories are as good as Death Comes to Pemberley, I will soon be a devout fan. Her Adam Dalgliesh series, beginning with Cover Her Face, is next on my reading list. The verdict will soon follow.

Who is "The Artist"?

2012-01-16T13:35:00.014-05:00

Hollywood's award season is in full swing and names and titles of nominees and winners are whirling around online and in print. One that is gaining speed leading up to the Academy Awards is The Artist--an artful and charming rendition of pride's destructive force and love's redeeming power.

The director, Michael Hazanavicius, builds on this archetypal storyboard with layer after layer of subtle metaphor, outstanding photography, brilliant use of motion, and a dazzling musical score, written by Ludovic Bource. Set in the Hollywood glory days of the late 1920s, the film tells the story of a silent movie star, George Valentin (Jean Dujardin), who refuses to recognize the technological ascendency of talking movies and pours his heart and fortune into a large production silent film.

Valentin's movie premiers just days after he loses everything in the infamous 1929 stock market crash and he hopes beyond reason that his film will be a box office hit. Also premiering that night is a highly billed "talkie," starring the dashing Peppy Miller (Bérénice Bejo), a plucky young actress who owes her success in the movies to a helping hand from Valentin, with whom she shares a few magnetic moments on film and an inappropriate flirtatious tête-à-tête . Peppy's talking film outshines Valentin's silent drama and her fame eventually eclipses his.

Valentin stumbles to the brink of despair, losing his fortune, his home, and his wife as a result of his pride and his refusal to talk. Peppy remains his secret and faithful admirer and it is her love and confidence that eventually restores him. With her help, he rehangs his star in the cinema firmament and shows the world a new side of George Valentin.

This story, though silent and in black and white is truly resonant. We have all experienced the results of pride and the redeeming power of love, and we, like Valentin, are living in tension between old and new technology and experiencing the rise and fall of careers and industries as a result. The Artist undoubtedly hits a vibrant chord.

Hats off to Mr. Hazanavicius who displayed a marvelous mastery of his medium, quietly drawing a 21st century audience, awash in 3D and surround sound into a black and white silent movie about the demise of silent movies and Everyman's tale of pride and redemption. He is truly The Artist.

Counting Down to 2012

2011-12-27T01:45:00.008-05:00

The week between Christmas and New Year's can be a bit of a downer, especially after the all excitement and anticipation leading up to the 25th. Thankfully though, if you call the Phoenix Area home or are visiting our diverse and expansive Valley of the Sun, you will find that there are plenty of things to keep you and yours busy in the final countdown to 2012. Here are multiple ideas ranging from free to a little past pricey but worth the payout.

Free
Climb Camelback Mountain

Visit the Zelma Basha Salmeri Gallery of Western American and Native American Art, Chandler

Take the kids to Playtopia at Tumbleweed Park in Chandler

$
Burn out some energy with the kids at Jumpstreet in Chandler

Tour Shamrock Farms and get a free ice cream coupon if you "like" them on Facebook

Tour Cerretta's Candy Factory, Glendale

Take a night ride under the Christmas Lights at the McCormick-Stillman Railroad Park, Scottsdale

Attend a Puppet Show at the Great Arizona Puppet Theater, Phoenix

Enjoy a class of wine at the new Vintage 95 restaurant and wine bar at 95 W. Boston St., Chandler

$$
See the Real Pirates exhibit at the Arizona Science Center

Tour the Frank Lloyd Wright: Organic Architecture for the 21st Century exhibit at the Phoenix Art Museum

Experience Las Noches De Las Luminarias at the Phoenix Desert Botanical Gardens

$$$
Go see Daddy Long Legs at the Herberger Theater

Have fun keeping busy and have a Happy New Year!

Tidy and Bright

2011-12-18T00:56:00.008-05:00

I've discovered that life is far more cheerful when things are tidy, though they never seem tidy enough. Alexander Pope said "order is heaven's first law," but I find that hard to achieve in the home.

The bathrooms and the kitchen may be clean but the living room is a menagerie of toys, socks, clothes, jackets, and rumpled pillows, not to mention crushed graham crackers, dust bunnies, and enough sand for an indoor beach. When that is remedied, I am still faced with heaps of laundry and envelopes full of decisions- read, pay, save, shred? It never ends.

Gretchen Rubin, author of The Happiness Project offered some very practical tips on keeping clutter under control in her article from the January 2012 issue of Good Housekeeping. She has a "one-minute rule" and does whatever tasks she can in one minute- pick up shoes, put something back in a drawer, wipe off the counter.

"With the one-minute rule, I can choose to do anything that needs doing, without delay, as long as I can do it within a minute," she wrote.

Her second suggestion is to tidy up the house before going to bed. She suggests doing a quick pick up of toys, coats, pillows, etc. so that the next day begins in an orderly fashion. I think this is especially helpful as a mom of young children. The house may look like mayhem by dinner, but once the little lambs are in bed, I can do a quick pick up and my world is sane once more.

A 10 item pick-up is another wonderful idea for keeping things orderly. Diana Smith, mother of nine and grandmother of seven, uses this technique when toys are strewn pell-mell around the room. Calling the children, she asks each of them to pick up 10 items- blocks, cars, puzzle pieces, or a combination of them all. By the time everyone picks up their 10 items, the mess has disappeared. Poof!

After the clutter is gone and you can finally see your furniture, try using 19th Century British textile designer William Morris' paradigm for a tidy home: Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful, or believe to be beautiful.

It's also important to realize that a house will never be in perfect order and that's o.k. Mary Lou Smith, a native Arizonan, farm wife of over 50 years, mother of six, grandmother of 22, and great-grandmother of seven offered a very wise nugget of housekeeping wisdom- Keep a house clean enough to be healthy and dirty enough to be happy.

I'll raise my glass to that one and to keeping our homes beautiful, useful, tidy, and happy this Christmas season.

Cheers!

Listen Softly to the Night

2011-12-16T16:14:00.006-05:00

Every year the little white house gets dressed for Christmas quite early. She spends the blazing summer afternoons dreaming of how lovely she will look in her Christmas sparkles and breezes through autumn with hopes of new apparel for the most glorious season of the year.

As soon as the last bite of Thanksgiving turkey disappears, her Christmas finery is unwrapped. There are boxes of garlands and barrels of wreaths. Yards of ribbon and dozens of ornaments. Best of all is her box of jewels- strand after strand of colorful, sparkling lights, collars and cuffs of gold stars, and reindeer and elves that shimmer like diamonds.

Just opening the lid makes her smile. She shivers with excitement as each piece is carefully taken out and gently put in its place. Sometimes things need polished or repaired, so that is done too.

With each strand, the little house feels a bit prettier and a trifle more brave. She is a happy little house, though not excessively bold. But when everything is done and her jewels burn against the dark coldness of the night, she finds her voice and boldly sings the song all things beautiful and bright sing at Christmas- a birthday anthem for the King.

You can hear them singing if you listen softly to the night.

S.L. Perrault

A Good Quote

2011-12-13T22:44:00.004-05:00

"There is nothing like staying home for real comfort."
~Jane Austen

A Throwback

2011-11-29T08:35:00.014-05:00

I'm going retro. It's very chic right now and I think I'm going to join the party and re-popularize the outhouse. Yes, that's correct, the o-u-t-h-o-u-s-e. It's truly a fantastic invention. It accomplishes a much needed purpose while removing unnecessary unpleasantness from daily life. Don't worry, I would modernize it with running water, a sink, an automatic soap dispenser, a drain in the floor, and a locking lid. Or maybe, I could just get the toilets I have outfitted with a locking lid?

Let me explain: two weeks ago bathroom gremlins cast a terrible curse on us resulting in more toilet mishaps than we've had in the last six years. The soggy saga began one morning when I was doing chores and trying to unpack. McKenzie and Harper were giggling and bumping around together, working hard to get into mischief. I unpacked an entire box before realizing the house was impishly quiet and I hadn't said "no" or "don't touch your sister" for several minutes, a sure sign something undesirable is underfoot.

Off I went in search of them. The front rooms were quiet, the hall bedrooms were silent, and there was no one in the guest bathroom. I dashed to the master bedroom- not in the closet, not under the bed. All that was left was the master bathroom. They weren't in the shower and the linen closet was empty. Then I heard little laughs coming from inside the water closet. Yanking open the door, I found Harper dunking a stuffed animal in and out of the toilet, chortling with delight. McKenzie was just standing there, "watching," she said, "to make sure Harper didn't get hurt." Ahhh...life is beautiful!

A few days later we had an impromptu Costco pizza party at Fairview with my side of the family. We were sitting around telling stories after dinner when I noticed Harper toddling around with a white dripping wet... piece of something. I grabbed her and dashed down the hall. Sure enough, the bathroom door was open and toilet paper was festively draped into the commode, sparkling drops of water were decorating the seat and floor, trailing down the hall and out into the family room. Bleach!

I'm going to decoupage a plaque that reads-
Welcome to our bathroom. Leaving the door open could cause your demise.

Even that sign wouldn't have prevented the final episode of the saga which occurred 24 hours later, a result of the culturally-pervasive "energy efficient" movement. First, a little background: after getting the keys to Fairview, we replaced the old commodes with high efficiency/low water use units. I'm beginning to think they are really low efficiency/high water use as many times as they have to be flushed.

Anyway, I was gone all day Saturday and returned at 5 that evening to discover another disaster. Poor McKenzie had inadvertently used too much toilet paper and clogged the low water use commode. It revenged itself by highly efficiently overflowing and I was greeted with a bucket, Clorox, and rubber gloves. Why, oh why, oh why?

Underneath the plaque, I'm adding an addendum on correct facility usage, or maybe it would be better to teach a crash course.

Welcome to our home, please step this way for your very own class on the proper OSHA method of using our restroom.

Not very inviting is it? I'd rather go old school and re-popularize the outhouse. What's not to like- everything outside, away from the baby, where overflows can be cleaned up with a hose? Plus, I would never have to run a mad dash doing door checks, I wouldn't have to teach a commode usage class, and I could re-purpose the space for something else entirely- like a private sanitarium.

Newlyweds

2011-11-10T14:18:00.004-05:00

Our move 2 miles down the road to Fairview is finally over and I'm living in box heaven. Let's hope it's a long while before we repeat that process. From house shopping, to placing offers, to buying it, and signing documents, the whole ordeal reminded me of the dating game.

When you join the fray you are hopeful and optimistic. Certain your dream house is just around the corner you go out a few times, trying to find the One, mentally moving your furniture in to see if it's a fit. A host of duds parade before you, bad in more ways then one, obviously something you'd never look at twice. Then you find that sweet, cute, little place that may not be your dream mansion but one you would definitely be happy to invite your friends and family to. You're smitten so you plunk down an offer and wait, and wait, and wait, and wait, only to discover that the listing real estate agent is a yahoo and had been double dating, accepting another offer while leaving yours out to dry.

Shocked, you move on, a little bruised but smarter and wiser, convinced the "One" is still out there. More hunting and looking and mental moving...then you see it. It's perrrrfect! It has all the gorgeous upgrades, it's in your price range, and you wouldn't have to lift a finger before moving in. What's not to like? You get an offer written as fast as your realtor can type and send it. Nerves tie your stomach in sailors' knots the rest of the day and night as you wait to hear if your offer was accepted.

The next morning the phone rings. The voice on the other end is in a minor key. "They got a cash offer," she says. End of story. There's no way to compete with a big money roll. Crying your eyes out, you try to keep life moving, attempting some form of normalcy.

It takes awhile to recover from that disappointment and you don't even glance at a "For Sale" sign for weeks. But time is not on your side, so you get out there again, determined to be realistic and open to possibilities. You spend a few days looking and thinking back through all the houses you've seen, wondering if you'd missed any opportunities or were too picky.

"There was that one house with the big yard that was cute. The carpet was vile, but that could be gotten rid of. I wonder if it's still available?"

A quick call and you hear it's still on the market. Time to take a second look. It's not bad, it's actually a nice house. The walls are freshly painted, just the carpet needs to go. Having been on the market awhile, the owners might be willing to negotiate. What the heck- let's put down an offer.

And you do. And they accept. And you have a house, or at least the promise of a house, for it takes several more weeks to go through all the legal and financial processes to forever join your bank account to the house, via the lending institution. You are excited nonetheless, and look forward with anticipation to the Big Day!

When it finally arrives, you're stressed and nervous, hoping and praying all the details come together. With lots of help from family and friends, you and your home are finally joined together- forever, or at least as long as you keep paying the mortgage. And so you live happily ever after, fixing plumbing leaks and holes in the wall, enjoying the fact that for better or worse, it's all yours.

Recipe for a Happy Marriage

2011-10-27T09:24:00.003-04:00

Sorting through cupboards this evening in preparation for moving to our new house this weekend, I came across a little placard with the following "Recipe for a Happy Marriage."

Take two happy people- one male and one female- and separate them from their parents. Add the following ingredients in generous proportions:

Love
Acceptance
Respect
Communication
Patience
Kindness
Gentleness
Self-Control
Commitment
Faith
Hope
Truth

Mix together, then thoroughly sift in daily life. Strain out jealousy, arrogance, selfishness, provocation and accounting of wrongs. Bake in the trials and tribulations of life for 50 years, then celebrate when golden.

A Prerequisite for Friendship

2011-07-13T18:34:00.010-04:00

The day was hot and Coleman was bored. He needed a playmate. Door after door he knocked on with little success. Each time it was the same.

"Hey...want to come outside and play with me?"

"Whataya want to play?"

"Don't know. Any ideas?

"Nah, maybe another time. It's too hot."

He desperately wanted a playmate but no one wanted to come outside. Coleman was getting discouraged. Plopping down on the porch, he stared at the empty street in front of him. It was quiet, straight, and long. Like a race track.

That was it! He'd have a race. He loved to run! He'd set up flags at the finish line, have his little sister fire his cap gun at the start, and have ice cream sandwiches for the runners. The ideas tumbled speedily, fueling his excitement. He jumped up.

Knocking on doors again, he was off, stopping at each house long enough to blurt out his plan.

Fifteen minutes later, he had a starting-line full of kids ready to bolt at the cap gun's first pop.
............

As Coleman discovered, without a vision it's hard to find companionship, without companionship it's impossible to have Friendship, and without Friendship life's a long, empty street of loneliness. Thankfully, there's no need for such bleakness, but like Coleman we must find what interests us.

The Maker of the Stars crafted each one of us as jewels to reflect His majesty, sparkling with unique interests, desires, talents, and gifts- a treasure trove of personality. The exciting part is that these gems are still in the rough. They need cleaned, polished, set, and displayed properly to showcase their great beauty. So guess whose job that is? Exactly- yours, mine, ours.

Our calling is to discover our interests, develop our talents, and dedicate our gifts, becoming the fascinating individuals God intended. As we pursue what moves us, we will suddenly find that we have vision and purpose instead of fretting that we're not a blockbuster salesman like Steve or a talented musician like Yen-Li. Cultivating our gifts will free us to help others cultivate theirs and in the process we'll find that we have companions who are walking a similar road. It is from our group of companions that we will most likely find our Friends.

C.S. Lewis defines our companions as those we "talk shop" with, people in our sphere doing similar activities- our co-workers, the guys we go to the gym with, or the moms in our play group. Most people, he points out, confuse their companions for their Friends. Companionship is a prerequisite for Friendship, but it is not Friendship.

Friendship is a relationship between two people who "see the same truth" and find in each other a passion or interest for the same thing, who willingly run the race of life together, pushing each other to not just run, but run well. We all long for such a Friend, but first, we must find what moves us and pursue it.

A Reclamation Project

2011-06-27T16:35:00.003-04:00

A few things in this world never grow old and never fall away- Friendship is one of them. It is as rich as history, as old as the sea, and as sweet as summer rain; to truly have it is a deep and rare treasure. Genuine friendship is a providential meeting when two or three people discover that they "care about the same truth" [1] and can walk the "same secret road"together [2].

Friendship's force is so potent it is able to sing into existence a brilliant idea, a work of art, or a vision for change in another person that left alone would have shriveled in the mind's shady forest of thought. This relationship is the least natural and most divine of loves for it involves two souls looking not towards each other, but linked arm in arm, pursuing the same vision, calling each other to greater and more noble heights, each drawing out of the other something that otherwise might have perished in dormancy never to reach existence. Not many people truly experience this joy and consequently very few truly value it [3].

The hyper-connected Facebook-culture we live in unfortunately does not remedy this sad truth, it exacerbates it. Acquiring 499 contacts for our Facebook page does not mean that we have anything more in common with those individuals than an introduction, and sometimes not even that as we tend to accumulate Facebook "friends" like a child accumulates toys , "de-friending" them when we are tired of them or have already mined their "friend list" for more friends. This does not assist us in building genuine, lasting friendships, it inoculates us to our need for them, giving us a very weak dose of a noble thing.

In order not to disparage Facebook, I must point out that it can be a very useful tool when used properly. Much like the indispensable Rolodex, Facebook is essentially a phone book of personal contacts and a great vehicle to let everyone in your address book know where you are going on vacation, the news that you are pregnant, along with a picture of the positive test, the cute things your two-year-old said, the great article you read last night, and where to find the best Mexican food in town. You can definitely disperse a lot of information this way, but let's be honest, it's not an effective tool for fostering deep friendships.

C.S. Lewis died long before Mark Zuckerberg ever thought of Facebook, but what he wrote about Friendship in The Four Loves is aptly relevant today. He wrote~ "People who simply 'want friends' can never make any. The very condition of having Friends is that we should want something else besides Friends. Where the truthful answer to the question Do you see the same truth? would be 'I see nothing and I don't care about the truth; I only want a Friend,' no Friendship can arise--though Affection of course may. There would be nothing for the Friendship to be about; and Friendship must be about something, even it if were only an enthusiasm for dominoes or white mice. Those who have nothing can share nothing; those who are going nowhere can have no fellow-travelers."

It is almost as if Lewis wrote this specifically about our social-media-hyped culture which madly pursues friendship and nearly forfeits it. Nevertheless, all is not lost; Friendship is a reflection of God Himself and will never die, though certain generations may inadvertently send it into exile, leaving a world full of lonely, isolated people who check their Facebook pages hourly. Consequently, a reclamation project is in order- a purposeful effort to recapture definitions, accurately describing what it means to be an acquaintance, a companion, and a Friend, thus rescuing ourselves from the diluted definitions our generation has foisted upon us.

Reclaiming and recapturing Friendship is my vision for the summer and will be the subject of the next few posts. In the process, you will hopefully be encouraged to do the same.

______________________
[1] Emerson, as quoted in C.S. Lewis' The Four Loves
[2] C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves
[3] Paraphrase of C.S. Lewis on Friendship, The Four Loves

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

2011-05-14T13:47:00.004-04:00

I read a great article on parenting the other day by Kevin DeYoung of the Gospel Coalition. In the article, he offers some great insight. You can read it here.

A litte help from the weather...

2011-04-22T06:59:00.002-04:00

Today is Good Friday, a pivotal day for every follower of Jesus, and a day that is hard for me to fully grasp when life is whirring along as usual. It's easier for me to get my mind around the immense sacrifice that Christ made at Golgotha when I get a little help from the weather.

A low blanket of slate colored clouds blacking-out the sun would be ideal for Good Friday, though I don't think I'll have that luxury today as the forecast in Phoenix is a sunny 90 degrees. Maybe the mental discipline of meditating on the crucifixion in the midst of the sunshine is exactly what the Lord is asking of me today. Maybe it's His way of reminding me to be mindful of His great mercy and love regardless of the weather and to be living a life of constant thankfulness in spite of it.

How about you? How do you prepare your mind and heart and foster an attitude of thankfulness and worship?

A New Look

2011-04-14T10:51:00.007-04:00

I am giving Letters from Mudville a makeover, transforming it from a spattering of experiences on and off the road in professional baseball to a travelogue of life- an organic, honest correspondence about the sorrows, joys, failures, and triumphs of living. There is an unspoken pressure in our lives to uphold the Facebook facade that life is perfect, my kids are angels, my house is beautiful, and all my updates are terrific. Let's be honest, we all know life is not like that and we long for authentic relationships and honest, open communication.

I want Letters to be a place where we can write to each other about the funny, quirky, interesting, sad, brilliant, foolish, amazing, and beautiful things in life, savoring every facet. We're all on this journey together, so we might as well enjoy it along the way, taking time to weep with those who weep, rejoice with those who rejoice and as Jane Austen says, "to laugh at our neighbors in our turn."

Light in the Darkness

2011-01-18T23:13:00.002-05:00

Left to itself, this old sinful world is a dark place, sometimes feeling darker than others, like the days since the shooting in Tucson. But we are not left without hope: the Bible promises that Christ Jesus will come again and redeem and restore His creation. The question is, what should we do now? Diana Smith offers some practical suggestions in her Monday, January 17th post "Is that All There Is?"

Randomness

2011-01-06T07:47:00.006-05:00

Happy New Year! I don't know about you, but I suffer from a fair amount of randomness. Thoughts ping-pong around in my mind, constantly going back and forth from things I should do, have done, want to do, don't want to do, find interesting, etc. It's terribly distracting. As a remedy, I think I will share some of that randomness with you. Life's variety is what makes it interesting, they say. Subsequently, here's a bit of randomness to season your day:

January's full moon is known as the "Wolf Moon." FarmersAlmanac.com explains that names for the full moons come from the Indian tribes of the Northern and Eastern United States. The website says, "Amid the cold and deep snows of midwinter, the wolf packs howled hungrily outside Indian villages. Thus, the name for January’s full Moon. Sometimes it was also referred to as the Old Moon, or the Moon After Yule. Some called it the Full Snow Moon, but most tribes applied that name to the next Moon."

Happy Thursday!

Noticing Less, Ignoring More

2010-12-22T01:07:00.004-05:00

Two sleepless nights and two fussy babies were all it took to push me to the brink of motherly endurance yesterday. I was tired and irritable and it felt like McKenzie challenged everything I asked her to do or simply ignored me. I was ready to blast into orbit when I received some very wise parenting advise from my Grama, the mother of 6, grandmother of 22, and great-grandmother of 5.

"You're too observant, Steph," she said. "If the house is still standing and the babies are still in one piece, then it's not a big deal. Just ignore her. Don't make everything a battle. When you pick a fight, you have to win it."

I don't know why I bothered reading Dr. Dobson's The Strong-Willed Child, all I really needed to do was go ask Grama.

"I didn't see that" is my new motto.

Thanks, Gram!

The Bethlehem Express

2010-12-17T20:02:00.003-05:00

I was doing chores yesterday while McKenzie was happily playing with the child's creche we have. It has entertained her for the last few Christmases, the lovable characters fitting perfectly in her hands, the little donkey missing both his ears, having been knocked off the dresser a few too many times. She loves to arrange the figures, sometimes wrapping one or two in a box and putting them under the tree. There are endless possibilities, but yesterday she came up with one I had never seen or even thought of before. Shoot...why would you ride a donkey when you can take a dump truck?

The Christmas Story

2010-12-12T17:46:00.004-05:00

McKenzie's favorite part of bedtime is listening to a story out of her Jesus Storybook Bible. I just learned that there is an audio version narrated by David Suchet, famed British actor, and the face of Agatha Christie's intuitive detective Hercule Poirot. The following video of the Christmas story is a beautiful combination of the Storybook Bible's artwork and Suchet's narration. Hopefully they make more of these in the future.

Just a Thought...

2010-12-09T00:46:00.002-05:00

If I decorate my house perfectly with plaid bows, strands of twinkling lights and shiny balls,
but do not show love to my family, I’m just another decorator.

If I slave away in the kitchen, baking dozens of Christmas cookies, preparing gourmet meals and arranging a beautifully adorned table at mealtime,
but do not show love to my family, I’m just another cook.

If I work at the soup kitchen, carol in the nursing home and give all that I have to charity,
but do not show love to my family, it profits me nothing.

If I trim the spruce with shimmering angels and crocheted snowflakes, attend a myriad of holiday parties and sing in the choir’s cantata but do not focus on Christ, I have missed the point.

Love stops the cooking to hug the child.
Love sets aside the decorating to kiss the husband.

Love is kind, though harried and tired.

Love doesn’t envy another’s home that has coordinated Christmas china and table linens.

Love doesn’t yell at the kids to get out of the way, but is thankful they are there to be in the way.

Love doesn’t give only to those who are able to give in return but rejoices in giving to those who can’t.

Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things.

Love never fails. Video games will break, pictures will fade, clothes will be worn out, golf clubs will rust, but giving the gift of love will endure.

(A Christmas Paraphrase of 1 Corinthians 13)

A Phone Call From Gramps

2010-11-30T23:53:00.003-05:00

The phone would ring randomly some December evening and Gramps would be on the line. "Go turn on Channel 3," he'd say. "Charlie Brown's Christmas is on." I can still see all of us kids screaming in delight and running to flip on the television set.

Gramps loved the classic Christmas shows. He wanted us to share in his enjoyment, and we did. We looked forward to those phone calls with anticipation. It wouldn't have felt like Christmas without them.

Gramps went home to be with Jesus nineteen years ago, but tonight as McKenzie called my mom to tell her The Grinch was on, I couldn't stop thinking about Gramps and how he would have been calling me.

I wish Gramps were the one calling, but I'm proud to be carrying on his Christmas tradition, and know that one day when I see him again in Paradise he'll be the first to call me when "Frosty the Snowman" comes on TV.

The Advent of Our Lord

2010-11-29T12:19:00.002-05:00

Yesterday was the first day of Advent, the season set aside by Christians to prepare for the celebration of Christ's birth. There are many Advent devotionals and books, but if you're like me, it's hard to remember to read them everyday. Before long, you're a week behind with only three weeks to catch up. I recently discovered that Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary offers an e-mail Advent devotional. I signed up for it and so far the daily devotions have been hearty and compact. You can sign up for them here.

Bed Time

2010-11-24T00:06:00.004-05:00

Hugged between me and the pillow and arm of our overstuffed, mocha and gold paisley-covered red chair, Harper is telling me stories. Flickers of expressions flutter across her face, her blue eyes dancing one moment, staring in confusion the next. Her tiny lips burst into toothless smiles as she ooohs and ahhs at me. I ooh and ahh back, my heart soft as butter under her spell. Smiles turn quickly to screams and I'm scrambling to determine the source of her woes. Burping, rocking, singing...before long her eyelids are heavy. T..o..o heavy. She slumps in complete peace on my chest as the little muscles in her body relax. Bed time at last!

Back to School

2010-11-18T14:27:00.006-05:00

I cast my lot with the college crowd yesterday. Josh is completing his degree in the spring and needed me to deliver his internship application to ASU. There is a lot of construction on the campus now, but I still managed to find Lemon St. without getting lost and was able to weave my way through the mid-morning throng to the Undergraduate Student Services Building- a scruffy, little 1960s leftover. My errand took only a moment. Walking back to the car, I began to think about what an alien being I was to most of the kids churning past me. There I was, 6 years out of college, carrying my 2nd child in her infant seat back to our SUV after running an errand for my husband.

I dare not pretend to age or wisdom, but yesterday's experience made me realize that no one stage is particularly worse than another. When I was in college, I couldn't wait to get out from under the oppression of tests and deadlines and term papers. Now college is a thing of the past and I look back and think of how easy my life really was. If only I had know that then...but I suppose that grand revelation applies to my life of baby and toddler-hood now. When I spend all day dealing with temper tantrums and feeling like the local milk machine and dare to wish myself 5 years down the road, please remind me that 5 years from now will have it's own difficulties and that the joys of this period- the newborn snuggles, the extravagant love of my 3 year old, and the smell of freshly washed baby skin- will be gone as as quickly as college was.

Spin Me Right Round, Baby, Right Round...

2010-11-09T08:25:00.010-05:00

Harper is two weeks old now. She has grown 2 inches and gained nearly two pounds. McKenzie is adjusting fantastically to being a big sister. She loves to help and is creating wonderful opportunities for her mother to practice grace and patience. My days are a churning vortex of constant responsibility. If the girls are in one piece at bedtime and Josh has clean clothes to wear to the gym and work the next day I successfully conquered the chaos.

In my spare nano seconds, I daydream about having enough time to complete a sentence, maybe even an entire thought. After that, I'd put away the folded laundry. That day is probably far in the future, possibly the next life. I guess I'll keep cleaning, washing, diapering, burping, shopping, cooking, and somewhere in there sleeping, 'till I spin pell-mell, tumble bumble into the driveway of the Funny Farm.

All Hallows' Eve

2010-11-01T10:30:00.001-04:00

For Halloween, we joined friends and family at the Austism Speaks Walk to raise money for Austism research and awareness. It was a beautiful, warm Arizona morning and was the first opportunity I had to get some official "exercise" since Harper's arrival. We had a great time and were glad we could use our feet to help foster Austism awareness. Here are a few pics of our day.

Harper

2010-10-29T11:07:00.004-04:00

Miss Harper Leigh arrived Saturday, October 23rd at 11:32 PM. She weighed in at 8 lbs 6 oz and was 19 1/2 inches long. We love you baby girl!!

We're Still Here

2010-10-19T08:25:00.005-04:00

In case you were wondering, we haven't left the country or gone into hibernation. The past two months were a whirlwind of moving into our first Arizona apartment, welcoming Josh home from the season, settling back into a routine, and getting ready for Miss Harper. Thanks to our amazing family, our first real move went smoothly and I finally got to unpack and use my wedding gifts. I felt like a newly wed all over again! Being united as a family was a superior joy by far though. What an exciting day it was when Daddy walked in the door.

As for the routine, that didn't take long. Josh is working at Southwest Sod, where he is busy planting perennial rye- the lush green grass you see in Arizona in the winter. Before heading to the farm in the morning, he enjoys the competition of a Cross Fit workout at Competitive Fitness with his buddy Aaron and my brother Clint. McKenzie's week revolves around Sunday School and Jazz and Tumbling at Leap of Faith in Gilbert. My week is punctuated by Bible study on Wednesday's and figuring out what to cook for dinner every other night of the week.

Miss Harper has yet to arrive and we are all in a state of great expectation. Just a side note...Castor oil is not a fail proof labor inducer. McKenzie is practicing how to be a big sister. She loves to dress her baby dolls for the day, feed them at meal time, and put them to bed at night. Thanks to her Grandma Lois and Dede, she has lots of babies and baby equipment. She is all set and ready to go. She and I have been doing lots of walking/jogging in our new double jogging stroller. McKenzie dubbed it "Wall-E." He is quite the ride. Miss Harper needs to get on the ball and get here.

Leavin' on a Jet Plane

2010-08-10T16:34:00.009-04:00

It is August 10th. Store racks are covered with fall fashions. Labor Day is fast approaching. Though the minor league baseball season has four weeks left, I am closing my scorebook. McKenzie and I fly home to Arizona on Thursday, leaving baseball and hotels and travel in the jet trail.

There are a lot of things we won't miss: moving in and out of hotel rooms every 4-6 days, doing laundry in the hotel laundry mat, cleaning a hotel room for two hours after checking in, pouring drain cleaner down a hotel drain (yes, I did), and constantly creating ways for McKenzie to use up energy.

There are lots of people we will miss. We have an amazing network of friends and family on the East Coast. No matter where we went, we always had someone we could call. McKenzie's summer has been filled with loving friends and family and I am so thankful for that.

More than anything or anybody, we will painfully miss our Daddy. We are absorbing every minute we have with him, laughing, playing, dreaming. Many baseball families don't have the opportunity to be together for the entire season, but God has blessed us with that privilege for the past 4 seasons. This year unfolded in a way none of us anticipated and it has been particularly sweet to press on together. Distance will change that slightly once McKenzie and I go home, but thanks to modern technology we will be able to talk and see each other everyday.

It will be a fast four weeks. Josh will be on the road most of the time, McKenzie will be busy with her Arizona friends and starting a Jazz and Tumbling class, and I will be busy getting ready to move into our first Arizona apartment, not to mention preparing for the arrival of Miss Harper Leigh. I may shed some tears along the way, but praise God for Skype. Daddy won't be more than a click away.

The Last Five Weeks

2010-07-17T17:12:00.004-04:00

In the five weeks since my last post, McKenzie and I spent time in four different states. Josh's count is much higher due to road trips. A week here, a few days there has been our routine for the last month. We stay in an Extended Stay when Josh is in Bowie and then go spend time with friends in Virginia when he is gone. McKenzie and I need the respite from hotel living. It has been a bit crazy, but not unbearable. God may allow the road to be rocky, but He never allows it to be impassable. We are so thankful for the His amazing provision and know that He is working out his good purposes in and through us.

Josh and I have been reading some great books lately. Josh is the analytical one and has been devouring books such as The Upside of Irrationality, Buy-ology, & Words that Work. I on the other hand stick mainly to fiction and have enjoyed reading Can You Forgive Her? by Trollope & The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Shaffer and Barrows, which I just finished and enjoyed immensely. I am now on the lookout for a new novel, though I have plenty of non-fiction I am trying to complete in the meantime.

McKenzie joined her first library reading club at the Prince George's County Library in Bowie. So far she has earned 2 of the 5 prizes, her favorite being the coupon for ice cream at Chick-fil-A. She loves going on the carousel at the games, playing with any and all children, and watching Winnie the Pooh, which she knows almost by heart. She is excited about the upcoming arrival of Baby Harper and is counting down the days until she is in Arizona and can have a pillow fight with her uncles.

A Grandmother's Advice

2010-05-28T16:41:00.008-04:00

A week or so ago, my sister-in-law sent me this article written by a grandmother yearning to be a young mom again. Sometimes as young moms and dads it is so easy to get so caught up in the inconveniences- the snotty noses, the wet pants, or the dirty laundry. We forget that this is a VERY short phase of life and that more than anything we should treasure each precious moment with our little ones.

It doesn't take long to go from this...

to this...

to this.

When You Pray

2010-05-26T15:40:00.003-04:00

Yesterday my sister sent me this article on prayer. I found it very thought provoking. I hope you are blessed by it like I was.

And Counting

2010-05-24T14:51:00.003-04:00

Today is the half way point. From now on I can start counting down to d-day, delivery day that is. I am 20 weeks pregnant and am watching my belly grow and my brain cells decrease. My list of dumb stunts increases daily. Last week I needed to go downtown to the bank and post office. I had been to both before. I decided to go to the post office first.

After driving around aimlessly for 10 minutes trying desperately to remember where the darn place was, I finally remembered the street name. When I got there, I couldn't remember which direction it was. I turned the wrong way of course. Dumb. Today I had to go back to the post office. I was sure I had learned my lesson and headed confidently to Ringling Blvd. When I got to the beach, it became painfully obvious that I once again had turned the wrong direction. Dumb and dumber.

If that's not bad enough, I can't even remember what I said 2 seconds before. Yesterday I was making a pb&j for Josh. "Do you want pretzels or a cheese stick with your sandwich?" I asked. He didn't and I finished making the sandwich. By the time I put it on the plate I couldn't remember if I had asked him or if I did what he said. Mercy! This is not good. Hopefully some of my mental faculties return 20 weeks from now when little Miss Harper Perrault arrives.

Guests

2010-05-22T15:58:00.005-04:00

We have set a new family record- living in a hotel for 18 consecutive days. A little over two weeks, you say. People go on vacation longer than that. True, very true. But this is not vacation, this is life: work, swim lessons, nap time, bath time, story time, play time, etc. Imagine your life right now. Now imagine all that emanating from a hotel room. Interesting, isn't it?

Actually, the most interesting part are the people we encounter. Life is life- hotel room, apartment, or house- it is the people that are amusing. The first weekend we were here a high school rowing team arrived. There were a boat load of kids, a handful of parents, and tons of sunburned legs. They were a pleasant crowd. All the rowing must have worn them out. We hardly heard a noise all weekend.

A few days later another large group descended upon the place. They were much louder than the teenagers. They were up laughing and loudly talking in the breakfast room before 7 AM. They stayed up late telling stories and chewing the political fat around the pool in the evening. It was a partying crowd of grandpas, freed from their wives and houses, ready to play some golf and have a few laughs.

The next weekend participants in some sort of Bass Pro Shop fishing tournament were here. I didn't see much of them. They must have been out on the water 'til late hours. There were quite a few boats in the parking lot though.

This weekend it's a little girls' All-Star softball team so there are lots of 9 and 10-year-olds in blue shorts and white tee shirts without sleeves. They all have cute bows and ribbons in their pony tails and braids. Definitely the cutest crowd so far, though probably the rowdiest. Pairs of little feet thunder down the halls at night.

Hotel life is interesting. Life itself is a gift. The difficulty is to treasure it.

Mr. Mustachio

2010-04-28T14:12:00.009-04:00

We live in a third floor condo. It is in a nice complex with a charming lily pad lake and a very nice pool. Most of the people we've seen here seem to be pleasant. There are a fair amount of children and quite a few dogs.

Our building contains an assortment of people. On the ground floor lives a cheerful, trim, middle-aged woman with short silver hair and a ready smile. She likes to smoke on her patio next to her red-blossomed hibiscus tree and chat with passing neighbors. She works full time, lives alone, and backs her silver hatchback Toyota into her parking spot...easier to get out in the mornings, I suppose. She always has a smile and a kind word to say. I like her a lot.

There is a quirky young couple living on the second floor who have an interesting menagerie of friends. The look-dirty-and-need-a-shampoo style is popular with them. They are quiet and keep to themselves. The young lady is the only person I have ever seen wearing a turban (the kind that Lucille Ball wore with her house dress) at the swimming pool. With the pool turban our young lady wore Audrey Hepburn sunglasses, an odd combination with her blue streaked hair and her boyfriend's dreads. Each to their own. Their comings and goings provide entertainment.

As far as I know, only three of the condos on our floor are inhabited. A dark-haired man in his thirties lives across from us and the condo adjoining his seems to be empty. Pretty quiet on that front. Our side is not so fortunate. Late at night, shortly after moving in, I noticed an incessant bass thudding through our bedroom wall. I assumed it was just a couple of dudes playing video games or blaring their sub woofers. They would have to go to sleep eventually. At 2 AM it was still thudding. Night after sleepless night it started to irritate me. Some nights it was so bad I had to go sleep on the couch. The constant pounding made my head throb. I even contemplated pounding back on the wall to make it stop. I didn't. It didn't either.

I never saw anyone come or go from the apartment. There was a constant supply of trash in the wooden bin outside the door. Pizza boxes and beer, I figured. I knew from the nocturnal thump, thump, thudding that someone lived there and they loved the night life. One day, in the middle of the day, I saw a short, brown-haired man wearing slacks and a collared shirt going into the condo. He was on the upper end of middle-age and wore heavy glasses. He had a thick mustache and wore his belt rather tight, giving him a cinched appearance. Respectable enough, though rather heavy-spirited and serious. Must be the party animals' father, I thought. I didn't see anyone come or go for quite awhile. The late night sub woofing continued.

My teeth were on edge. Keep in mind I was 5 or 6 weeks pregnant when we arrived and the first month I battled 24 hour nausea. That incessant pounding was almost more than I could bear and made me want to pound something. I started manufacturing stories of what was going on in that apartment. None of them were very good. I kept seeing Mr. Mustachio come and go and finally realized that he was the ONLY one who lived there. There were no rabble-rousing dudes, no pizza scarfing gang to go along with the noise. Imagine the stories my sleep-deprived brain concocted then. I liked Mustachio less and less.

Though I didn't care for his nighttime habits and how they impacted mine, I began to observe Mr. M more. I noticed that the old white Mercedes sitting in covered parking was his. Occasionally, he would be cleaning it out in the middle of the day, while his Toto dog sat leashed to the door handle. Next to the Mercedes sat a white Corvette under a car cover...in covered parking. I thought it was some young guy's who thought he was something special. Wrong again. It belonged to Mustachio. Weird. What does a middle-aged man who doesn't appear to go to work or go anywhere do with two expensive cars? I had no idea and didn't want to find out. I began to avoid him and always kept McKenzie close to me when we passed.

Then one evening the social barrier was completely shattered. Josh and McKenzie and I were going to Bible study. Mr. Mustachio was once again cleaning out the Mercedes with a red duffel that he always had with him. Josh was putting McKenzie in her seat and I was getting in mine. Mustachio started coming around towards the passenger side of the car. I had no desire to talk to him. I closed my door, got in my seat and buckled up, firmly believing that he would take the hint and talk to Josh, who was standing there with the door open buckling McKenzie. Did Mustachio get the hint...?

No. He started talking to ME through the closed window telling me that he thought my little boy dropped something, holding up a Mitchelin Tire Man bobble head in plastic. No thank you, I mouthed, shaking my head. It's not ours. Then he turned to Josh and before I knew it, Josh was taking it and smiling and thanking him.

Josh got in the car and said that the man was trying to say that he had something for our little boy, not that we dropped something. Either way, McKenzie is NOT a little boy, and I really didn't care what he said and didn't want the Michelin bobble head. Josh said I needed to be more polite to the neighbors, that he was just trying to be friendly. Maybe so, but I had never even spoken to the man before and what made him think that we wanted the junk he cleaned out of his car. Guess who has the larger dose of Christian charity: me or Josh?

I felt slightly remorseful until the nighttime pounding started again, then I didn't feel remorseful at all. Mustachio was not the kind of individual I wanted Michelin Tire bobble heads from. I avoided him more. That wasn't at all difficult as he rarely emerged from his house. He had to sleep sometime I guess. Plus, I figured I had been sufficiently rude the first time around for him to get the hint.

Think again. One morning after running with McKenzie in her jogging stroller to the grocery store, we encountered Mustachio once more. I had two bags of groceries in one hand, was carrying my jogging stroller in the other and trying to herd McKenzie up the three flights of stairs. Guess what he was doing...exactly...cleaning the Mercedes.

"I have something your little boy might want," he said from 10 or so feet away.

"Oh, no thank you," I said, trying my best to be coldly polite and impervious to his glaring lack of social skills.

"Why don't you just take a look at it?" Was this man serious?

"What is it?" I said standing stock still.

He rummaged under the seat for a minute and pulled out a toy semi-truck in it's original box, bits of wrapping paper still stuck to it. "This was a Christmas gift from a few years ago I never had a chance to give and I thought your little boy would like to play with it." Good grief!

"Oh...how thoughtful. Thanks for thinking of us, but SHE likes playing with dolls a little bit more than trucks."

"Oh...is that a girl? I thought it was a boy."

"No problem," I said, turning to go up the stairs. "Thanks though."

It's amazing how fast a pregnant woman carrying groceries and a jogging stroller with a three year old in tow can get up three flights of stairs when she wants to. Our door was locked and padlocked as soon as we stepped across the threshold.

I have seen Mr. Mustachio a few times since, but I just rummage around in my car until he leaves or is far enough away that I don't have to talk to him. He was chatting with our cheerful patio neighbor the other day, so maybe he's not too bad. We exchanged hellos, but Josh was with me then. My six-foot-three, muscular husband is a huge confidence boost for me. Mustachio didn't dare offer any cast-off Christmas presents for our little boy.

We will only be in our apartment for one more week, so I doubt we will have to worry about it too much longer. After that, the hotel will be home. That will be another story.

Something to Laugh About

2010-04-22T08:24:00.001-04:00

Yesterday, McKenzie and Josh were talking about making cookies. Out of the blue, McKenzie says,

"Does butter make you happy? It makes me happy?"

So that is the question of the day...does it make you happy??

People

2010-04-21T08:39:00.000-04:00

Things are rather slow around here. Josh rehabs in the morning. McKenzie and I go running- scratch that- I go running and McK rides in her stroller. After lunch, we try to take naps and then fill the rest of the day without going insane. There is a reason for the phrase "bored to tears."

Since our life isn't providing much story fodder at the moment, I decided to take a few posts and tell you about some of the people I've met here in Florida. One day I'll use them as characters in a novel. Until then, enjoy meeting some new folks.

The most amusing pair I came in contact with were Jim and Bob- the ushers in the handy-cap section at Ed Smith Stadium. It was the only place I could take McKenzie in her stroller. Jim was a Democrat and Bob a Republican. One was tall and rather skinny with a hawk-like nose. The other resembled Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. His nose was round and bulbous like the rest of him.

They passed the time by betting how many runs and how many hits there would be during the game. Nothing pleased Jim more than beating Bob, as he thought it was high comedy to take money from a Republican. Jim was a deporable flirt. The first time I met him, he came up to me and said, "Are you a player's wife?"

"Yes I am. Is it that obvious?"

"I knew a girl as pretty as you had to be a player's wife."

(Uh-huh...and you are old enough to be my grandfather.)

"Well thank you. And what is your name?"

He turned around and saw his wife standing a few feet away. Stumbling and bumbling he says, "Oh...I am HER husband. I just met you five minutes ago and you are already trying to hit on me," and off he ran.

I just smiled and laughed. What is it with old men?

Bob was not as outwardly flirtatious, but he loved to lean over the rail and yack. He told me all about how he traveled around the world with the State Department. The only reason he and his wife had been married so long, he said, was that for the first 20 years of their marriage they never had to see each other very often. Interesting recipe for marital bliss. He hated long games and whenever they'd go over 2.5 hours he'd start talking about his bubble bath and his glass of wine that was waiting for him at home.

"I just sit there and relax," he said. "My cat comes and sits on the edge of the tub and just stares at me like I'm nuts."

Not quite the mental image I wanted, but laughter is the universal cover-up.

Whenever Jim thought Bob was spending too much time talking to me, he'd come up and say to Bob..."What are you doing?? Are you trying to steal my girlfriend? This is my section."

Bob would just fire off some quip and keep on talking.

I liked Jim and Bob. They were funny old men who laughed a lot and loved to annoy each other. I'm glad I met them. They made me smile.

Tune in next time to hear about our strange neighbor with a white Mercedes and a white Corvette who never goes anywhere and was convinced McKenzie was a little boy.

Matins

2010-04-15T06:53:00.002-04:00

One of my favorite parts of the day is the 15-30 minutes I have with my Bible, my Puritan prayer book, and my coffee before my two loves awake. I titled this post "matins" not because I get up at midnight to chant my prayers, but because the word comes from the Latin "matutinae" or morning prayers and that essentially is what this time is. It doesn't happen every morning, but my day sure seems more ordered when it does.

I am reading through the book of Acts. It is exciting to experience again the passion and the power of the early church. After a chapter or two of that, I read one or two prayers from the Valley of Vision- a compilation of prayers written by Puritan Christians. They are amazing and never fail to leave me with a thought for the day. I wanted to share a few quotes with you...

Yesterday I read...

Help me to see how good they will is in all
and even when it crosses mine teach me to be pleased with it.
Grant me to feel thee in fire, and food and every providence,
and to see that thy many gifts and creatures
are but they hands and fingers taking hold of me.

Today I read...

Help me to pray in faith and so find they will,
by leaning hard on they rich free mercy,
by believing thou wilt give what thou has promised;
Strengthen me to pray with the conviction
that whatever I receive is thy gift,
so that I may pray until prayer be granted.

I wonder what the Lord is trying to tell me?

The Best-laid Plans of Mice and Men...

2010-04-07T15:35:00.006-04:00

The last four days have been absolutely insane. Friday we found out that instead of starting the season with a team we would be staying here in Florida to have Josh's elbow treated. At that point, we didn't know the extent or even the nature of the injury. The team orthopedist examined the elbow Saturday and sent him for an MRI immediately. That was a huge answer to prayer: only the truth can set our minds free from worry and concern. The orthopedist examined the films later that afternoon and thought it was only a strain of the ligament due to shoulder weakness that was putting torque on the elbow.

Josh had Easter weekend off- what a blessing! For the second time in four years of married life, we were able to celebrate Christ's resurrection together at church. Up from the grave He arose...

Yesterday, the same orthopedist met with Josh and gave him the official diagnoses. It was pretty much the same. Today, Josh started rehab. The trainers and doctors think it should only take a few weeks to get everything back to normal. Please pray for full recovery and a return of the confidence, form, and mechanics that Josh has when healthy and strong.

In between all of this, we were on a housing roller coaster. At first we thought we might be here several months, so I started looking for longer term housing. The contract on our apartment ended April 6th. We thought our landlord had the place rented for the month of April, so we packed everything up and prepared to move out yesterday. A walk-through was scheduled for Monday.

I had been making calls about other housing available immediately and had found a place just down the road. We found out at the last minute that the owner was almost certain that he had a renter interested for 6-8 months. We would have to be month to month with only the first month for sure. So...there we were Monday afternoon thinking that we had no place to move the next day. Not a happy thought. Guess what happened...

God saved the day! We went out on a limb and asked our landlord if she had renters moving in right away. She didn't! She was actually planning on moving back in herself, but said she could use another month's rent and if we needed to leave sooner, that was fine too. Oh my word...what a relief!! Thank you Lord!! I still have everything packed up and am not quite sure to what extent I'll unpack it, but at least we don't have to move and then move again in 3 weeks.

So...we are still here in FL and the weather is the best it's been all spring. The beach was packed yesterday and there are always people at the pool. If anyone wants to come get some sun and go to the beach in the next few weeks, we have an extra couch.

Thank you all for your prayers!! We know that the Lord is guiding us along a good path and are thankful that Josh's elbow has no major problems. Please continue to pray for us as Josh rehabs.

We so appreciate all your support and love and know we couldn't do it without you!!

An Old Hymn

2010-04-03T21:32:00.000-04:00

O ye sons of men be wise,
trust no longer dreams and lies,
Out of Christ, almighty pow’r
can do nothing but devour.

God you say is good. ‘Tis true.
But he’s pure and holy too;
just and jealous is his ire,
burning with vindictive fire.

This of old himself declared:
Israel trembled when they heard.
But the proof of proofs indeed
is he sent his Son to bleed.

When the blessed Jesus died
God was clearly justified:
Sin to pardon without blood
never in his nature stood.

Worship God, then, in his Son,
there he’s love and there alone.
Think not that he will, or may,
pardon any other way.

See the suff’ring Son of God,
panting, groaning, sweating blood!
Brethren, this had never been
had not God detested sin.

Be his mercy therefore sought
in the way himself has taught:
There his clemency is such,
we can never trust too much.

He that better knows than we,
bids us all to Jesus flee.
Humbly take him at his Word
and your souls will bless the Lord!
~Joseph Hart

The Good, The Bad, & The Ugly

2010-03-30T09:05:00.010-04:00

Spring Training is almost over. Oh the joy that fills my soul! This year spring training has felt like a very long, slow march through the desert. There have been cool places of respite from the monotony- our family visiting for a weekend, spending a day at Busch Gardens, a warm afternoon at the beach, care packages from friends and family. Without those, we might have expired from boredom. Well, I might be exaggerating, but just a little.

There are only 5 more days of wandering in the desert, so before we cross the Jordan and leave the wilderness behind, I thought I would give you a recap of the good, the bad, and the ugly of the last six weeks.

The good~

A week after we arrived, I met a mom at the park with kids McKenzie's age who was really friendly and invited us to a local church play group. Since then, she has had us over for lunch, included us in their activities and really opened their lives to us. Wow...what a blessing!!

Our family visited for a weekend. It was fun to see everyone and McKenzie had a blast with her cousins! Thanks guys!!

We were able to go to church as a family...something that hardly ever happens once the season starts.

I read good books- some that I have ready many times, others that were brand new.

McKenzie and I got to spend the day with my friend Maria who we spent lots of time with last year in Bowie.

Josh and I made some yummy meals together. Turns out, Josh has quite the culinary bent. I have to be careful though, if I send him grocery shopping by himself, he might come back with half the store. In his defense, what he makes is always delicious. His latest foray into the kitchen resulted in jumbo coconut shrimp with marmalade rum dipping sauce.

McKenzie got to take a dance class, which was quite the growing experience. Being still and listening to instructions is not exactly her strong suit. It was a very good exercise in all respects.

The bad and the ugly~

Feeling sick to my stomach for the first month was not the most fun way to begin spring training.

It was rather unpleasant to be cooped up in a 700 sq at apartment with a very active 3 year old while the weather was cold and yucky for the first few weeks.

There is no table in this apartment. For the last 6 weeks I have eaten standing up. Definitely wouldn't recommend it.

Having no bedside lamp to read at night. That may not sound like a big deal, but to me it was thoroughly disconcerting. Reading in bed is my wind down time. Life without transitions is incredibly abrupt.

Not feeling well enough to plan dinner. I used to be a pretty good cook and I could plan things out for a whole week. Pregnancy has washed all that down the drain. Oh well...

I have only seen Josh pitch three times. The other times he pitched were away games and I only went to one, which he didn't play in, of course.

Not having a lot to do and not feeling well enough to do a lot. Let me assure you that there is really nothing good to watch on TV, except maybe Jeopardy, and 24, if you like violence and never ending suspense. Other than that...Disney Channel and Nick Jr. are the only other options, and believe me, I've watched way more of those two channels in the past 6 weeks than I care to admit.

So...next time you hear someone comment that the life of a professional athlete must be so glamorous and exciting and probably just like a vacation all the time, please set the record straight and tell them that it is hard work just like anything else and feels very little like vacation.

But let not your heart be troubled...

Let me emphasize that in the midst of it all, God has been so good and faithful and continues to awe us with His provision and love. This life really forces us to throw ourselves upon His promises as there are really no assurances in baseball. Time and again He shows Himself strong and mighty and we praise Him for that. We know that He will never leave us or forsake us and that He will lead us in a good path for His glory. It is so exciting to be able to live that out, knowing that Christ, who conquered sin, and death, and the devil, through His death and resurrection on the cross, is more than able to take care of our little cares and worries.

We pray that you all have a blessed Easter or Passover celebration remembering the faithfulness of God and His love for His children. By that time, we will be able to tell you where we are headed.

Much love from Florida...

Quotes of the Week

2010-03-19T22:35:00.003-04:00

1. "Can we go to daddy's game today?"
"No, Baby. He's going far away and we can't go."
"Where is far away? Is this far away?"
"No. This isn't far away."
"Is he coming back from far away?"

2. McKenzie grabs my cell phone and starts pushing buttons:
"Munchie, what are you doing?"
"I am texting my baby brother."

God is Not a Novice

2010-03-17T10:21:00.003-04:00

Were our God a novice in the great art of governing the world,
and of the church in the bosom thereof; had he to this day
never given any proof of his infinite wisdom, power,
and goodness, in turning about the most terrible accidents
to the welfare and joy of his saints; we might indeed
be amazed whenever we feel ourselves sinking in
the dangers wherein the practices of our enemies
oft do plunge us over head and ears; but the Lord
having given in times past so many documents
of his uncontroverted skill and most certain will
to bring about all human affairs, as to his own glory,
so to the real good of all that love him, it would be
in us an impious and inexcusable uncharitableness
to suspect the end of any work which he hath begun.

~Robert Baylie~

Baseball Fan vs. Baseball Wife

2010-03-10T20:33:00.005-05:00

Sunday's game between the Orioles and Red Sox was a baseball fans' dream. It was a cool, sunny Florida day with a slight breeze from the northwest blowing out to center field. The stands were packed with 8,000 strong. Most of them were Red Sox fans. It was a close game and big name players like David Ortiz, Jacoby Ellsbury, Clay Buchholz, Daniel Bard, and J.D. Drew could be watched for a mere $11 a ticket. The fans were excited. The spirit was high. Good grief it was the Red Sox. Could life get any better?

It could for a baseball wife. I got there in the 6th inning. That may be considered late by the ardent baseball fan, but I didn't go to see the Red Sox. I went to see my husband play and if your husband is a late reliever and you have a three year old, the 6th inning is right on time.

The ticket windows were all closed. No tickets! The security man took pity on us and correctly surmised that I was a player's wife and let us in. "Just sit anywhere you can find a seat."
That would have been a grand idea if there weren't 8000 people crammed in the stadium going berserk over every Red Sox play.

We wound our way through the thronging masses and looked deploringly around for a place to sit. High up in the top row directly under the awning were a few lonely seats. With McKenzie in tow I plodded up the steep concrete steps dodging spilt beer, peanut shell explosions, the ketchupy remains of hamburgers and hot dogs and other non-descript disgustingness. At last we reached the top and plopped down in the dusty, blue seats. McKenzie started eating her pretzel, stopping every two minutes to brush the salt off the pretzel and then brush the salt off her seat. I don't know whether she ate more pretzel or more seat dust.

It was frigid up there. The wind was whipping in between the seats leaving goosebumps galore. I scanned the stadium for a spot in the sun. All the seats in the family section were taken and since I didn't have tickets I couldn't go politely evict two seat-squatters. Oh well. With joy, my eyes settled on a few seats on the Red Sox side of home plate that were bathed luxuriously in sunshine. Time to move.

Back down the stairs. Tip toe, tip toe. Back through the crowd. Stumble trip, stumble trip. Up the stairs. Into the row. Down in the seats. I am never going to a Red Sox game again!

So there we were in the sun. As soon as we sat down, McKenzie started to complain that it was hot. I gave her the water bottle. No sooner did I give it to her than she dropped the cap smack down among peanut shell, beer bottle soup. I took the bottle and held it on my lap and gave McKenzie her tracing activity book and a crayon to keep her still for a few minutes. She was happily working away when the man in front of us poked his wife/girlfriend/etc? directing her attention to McKenzie and said, "Look how interested in the game she is."

If I hadn't felt so miserable, beleaguered, lonely, stressed, and nauseous, I would have wanted to deck the guy. As it was, I just wanted to burst into tears and then give him a lecture on spending long hours at a baseball stadium with a three year old in tow and how little both of us cared about the game at that moment. Instead, the water bottle on my lap tipped over and dripped down the side of my pants and McKenzie started to wail and scream out of exhaustion and frustration. Time to move again.

Ready to throw in the towel but afraid I might miss Josh pitch, I hauled a kicking and screaming McKenzie down the first base line all the way to the outfield. There were two empty chairs in the wheelchair section. It was the 8th inning and there was no one sitting there. I plopped down exhausted. Thankfully no one said anything.

There was enough room for McKenzie to climb up and down and over and under the chair. By then, I didn't care how much dirt she ate. There was no beer or peanut shells, so it was kosher. I could see the bullpen and occasionally catch a glimpse of who was warming-up. By the 9th inning we were tied 3-3. Josh started to stretch and warm-up. Maybe all my suffering would count for something.

It was not to be. The Red Sox hit a home run in the top of the 9th amid wild cheers from the crowd. The O's didn't score again in the bottom of the inning, also a matter of great celebration in the stands.

Monday's game was much better. It was warm. There were less than 8000 people. We were playing the Twins and not the Red Sox. McKenzie was far more cheerful. Josh pitched the 7th inning and did great and I actually saw someone I knew and could talk to. Now that is my kind of game!

Josh coming in to pitch the 7th

McKenzie wearing Mom's lip gloss and posing for the camera...if only she would open her eyes.

Save the Date

2010-02-27T09:59:00.002-05:00

October 17th, 2010 is an important date on the Perrault calendar. Click here to find out why.

On other fronts, Josh's games start next week. According to my self-imposed tradition, that means I must buy a new article of clothing. One really must make so many sacrifices. Not sure yet what it will be though. The jury is still out on that one. I'll let you know what the verdict is.

Tomorrow we are going to Circus Sarasota, which should be entertaining. I haven't been to a circus since I was a kid. Sarasota was formerly the winter home of the Ringling Brothers Barnum and Bailey Circus. There is a large circus museum in Sarasota on the estate of John and Mable Ringling. McKenzie and I went to the art museum that is also on the property, but we have yet to tour the circus museum and The Ca d'Zan Mansion. It is on our to-do list.

Love and hugs from rainy Florida.

Splat Goes the Pizza

2010-02-20T09:10:00.004-05:00

Before I went to the grocery story yesterday, I carefully planned all the meals for the week. Last night was pizza and salad. My new method of "making" pizza is an imitation of our friend Vivian's. She takes a frozen pizza and adds all sorts of goodies. The end result is 10 times better than the plain frozen one and much quicker than pizza from scratch. So, that's what I did last night. I added spinach and some ground beef and broccoli and cheese...yummy! Finally the timer rang and I went to take it out of the oven.

I opened the door. Took hold of the pan with my pot holder and began to take it out. In those few seconds, my hand tipped slightly and the pizza went flying against the sizzling wall of the oven, dumping all the added goodies down the side and onto the charred oven floor. Yuck! McKenzie heard the crash and started wailing. I would have liked to wail too. I peeled the pizza off the side of the oven. Half of it still had some toppings, the other half was draped in a thin layer of sauce and nothing more.

The oven was a disaster. I had to take the racks out and scoop up the cheese, and spinach, and ground beef and throw it all away. Ugh!

We still ate the pizza, but half of it was more like garlic toast than pizza. And I had to endure a lecture from McKenzie on the accident.

"Mom, do you know why that happened?"

"It was just an accident."

"It was because you weren't paying attention to what you were doing, that's why."

C'est la vie!

Grocery Shopping- A Full Contact Sport

2010-02-19T08:43:00.000-05:00

Today I went to the grocery store. It was about 1 pm. Apparently, that is when every retired individual in Sarasota goes to the grocery store. They almost gave me a heart attack! I was trying to mind my own business and get my groceries without running into anybody, but I soon found that my main concern was not running into somebody, but getting run over.

Mercy! One would think that 60, 70, and 80 year olds would saunter through the store. Oh no, no. They charge. If you unfortunately happen to be in their way, they don't stop until you move, they just keep pushing their metal battering ram towards you. In the space of an hour, I was only seconds away from being flattened numerous times. By the time I had all my groceries, and was finally on my way to the car, I wanted to burst into tears. I never knew grocery shopping was a full contact sport. I'll have to start going after 5 pm. Maybe by that time of the day I will be able to enjoy the grocery shopping experience without fearing for my life.

Big League Camp

2010-02-18T08:54:00.003-05:00

Today was Josh's first day of big league camp. Here are the main differences from minor league camp:

Delicious food...for breakfast he had blueberry pancakes and after practice he had mahi mahi. Sorry about that! McKenzie and I were chugging away with our PB&J. Needless to say, I'm jealous!

Lots and lots more media and fans...the fact that people can stand outside in the cold and watch guys do batting practice (bp) and pitching fielding practice (pfp's) and then wait for hours for autographs blows my mind. But they do it and they are devoted. I don't think I could do that for someone I didn't know. It's truly amazing how dedicated these fans are.

Other than that, Josh said the practice format was similar to that of minor league camp. He knows a lot of the guys and as far as I can tell feels comfortable. Not much phases Josh; he is Mr. Laid-Back of the century, so he just takes it all as it comes. A very valuable attitude in baseball.

So for now, that's the report from the front lines.

Love and hugs to all!

Happy Valentine's Day!

2010-02-14T14:13:00.000-05:00

Today

2010-02-08T09:35:00.002-05:00

We are off to Florida in a few minutes. My day began at 4:50 AM. I got up, grabbed my clothes and proceed to run my foot into a suitcase and face plant on the rug. After I peeled myself off the floor, I limped into the bathroom and started the day. Oh what a beautiful morning...

Things went better after that and now we are ready to hit the road. I-10 here we come. We should pull into Sarasota on Thursday. Please pray that the Lord gives us travel mercy, grace, and safety.

Love and hugs from the Perraults!

Three Weeks From Now

2010-01-19T10:46:00.002-05:00

Boxes and packing. Zippered bags and stacking. I wonder how it will fit in the car. Three weeks from now we will be en route to Sarasota, Florida. Every year I try to pack things a little neater and a little tighter. I'd like to think I do, but sometimes I wonder if it's simply a way to keep my attention deficit brain from losing interest entirely. Never, in four seasons, have I packed the same way twice. My soul feeds on variety, which must be why, despite the apparent inconvenience, I love the baseball life.

It is a life that provides a constant supply of excitement for a wanderlust spirit like mine. Unfortunately, excitement and uncertainty are a package deal, but that cannot be helped. God is on His throne and is infinitely able to arrange the details of housing, beds, clothes, food, and the job to pay for it. Since He has it under control, I am free to rearrange my packing every year and have fun doing it.

2010-01-09T12:34:00.005-05:00

The Castle
from S. Lura Perrault to her Hero

After a long, hard day at work,
a man to his castle retires;
To a place not built by mortar and stones,
but the dreams his heart inspires.

A welcoming squeeze & a kiss from his wife
and giggling glee from his babe,
Are by far the richest dividend
ever he has been paid.

The dragons, the monsters, the battles and wars
fade away with the day.
The knight is locked within his fort
and is ready now to play.

To wrestle and roll and play chase round the chairs
is now his sole task, you see;
A job he holds most true and dear,
in his heart so bold, so free.

No matter the toil or work of the day,
at night he is the king;
Locked tight in the castle of their hearts,
A hero he’ll always be.

On the Twelfth Day of Christmas...

2010-01-06T08:47:00.007-05:00

Today is Wednesday, January 6th- The official day on the Christian calendar set aside to celebrate the coming of the Magi to worship the Christ Child as well as commemorate His coming into the world to save sinners and give them eternal life. Epiphany is the final day of the 12 days of Christmas, which are days of celebration and remembrance including the Feasts of St. Stephen, St. John the Evangelist, and the Holy Innocents, the children slaughtered by King Harod in his blood thirsty search for the infant Jesus.

Of course the most familiar 12 days of Christmas are the ones we sing about ad nauseum during the Christmas season. The days refer to those between the birth of Christ and the coming of the Magi. Some speculate that the gifts referred to in the song are symbolic and were ways for Catholic children to learn their faith during a time of persecution, though there is no proof to support this idea.

No one knows exactly when or where the song originated, though it is believed to come from France. The first printed version of the song is from an English children's book from 1780 called Mirth without Mischief. The song most likely started as a "memory-and-forfeits" game in which the leader would sing a verse and everyone would repeat it. The leader would then add another verse, and so on, and so on, until someone made a mistake. The infractor's punishment was to give a kiss or a piece of candy to everyone else.

Have a happy 12th day of Christmas today and a blessed Epiphany. May He whose arrival and salvation we celebrate today fill your heart with the light of the knowledge of the glory of God.

Once in a Blue Moon

2010-01-01T09:15:00.005-05:00

There is a full moon setting in the west this New Year's morning. It is the second full moon in a month and the second one this week. Wednesday night was also graced by a full moon. Two full moons in a month are known as a "blue moon," though mistakenly so. A blue moon is actually the 4th full or harvest moon in a season (winter, spring, summer, fall). There are normally three. This happens about seven times every nineteen years. For a blue moon to fall on New Year's Eve is uncommon. It happens only three or four times a century. So as you begin 2010, remember that it started with a blue moon.

Have a blessed, safe, and happy New Year's Day!!

My Favorite Things

2009-12-24T10:16:00.005-05:00

I don't think the song "My Favorite Things" has anything to do with Christmas, though it is usually considered one. That fact aside, it made me think about some of my favorite quotes.

Favorite quote from a literary giant:
Fairy tales, are more than true. Not because they tell us that dragons exist, but because they tell us that dragons can be defeated. ~GK Chesterton

Favorite McKenzie quote:

Mama, Daddy says my thumb will fall off if I suck it, so I will just use my pennies to buy a new one.

Favorite Quote from the Bible:

And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth. John 1:14

Merry Christmas!

McKenzie's Letter to Santa

2009-12-24T09:30:00.000-05:00

Christmas Time is Here

2009-12-11T11:53:00.009-05:00

I am swamped! I have so many stories to tell I don't know where to start. Meanwhile, I am doing some website work for my dad's company, Southwest Sod, co-planning a Christmas party, trying to stay on top of Story Hour and keep up with my 2 year old who thinks she's 8, be creative with my Christmas gift giving, not to mention staying focused on the real meaning of Christmas. I am slowly digging myself out of the hole that I fell into when I was sick with the flu last month. Hopefully I will be able to post a witty, insightful blog in the next few days. If that flops, I seek your humble forgiveness in advance and promise that if all else fails I will post pictures.

Ta, ta!

McKenzie's Christmas Trees

2009-12-09T10:34:00.002-05:00

The Cheshire Moon

2009-10-31T12:43:00.009-04:00

Drinking coffee with my morning dose of the Wall Street Journal, I read about the annual Naked Pumkin Run in Boulder, Colorado. A few days ago, my cousin sent me the story of a bear executed for trying to eat Talitha the deer, a local wildlife preserve resident. Absolute absurdity, all of it.

G.K. Chesterton had some amazing insight into this extreme loss of direction. He said, When men stop believing in God they don't believe in nothing; they believe in anything- trying to find happiness by running nude in freezing temperatures, or executing justice on a bear for doing what he was created to do. All this while millions of unborn babies are executed because of their mothers' "right to choose," and people are arrested for believing what the Bible says to be true. I think the creation is laughing at us for being such fools. The moon surely does.

The Cheshire Moon

Down he looks on the goings of man

As they bustle to and fro;

Questioning "Why? and Who am I? and

Where am I to go?"

Up in the sky, so dark so blue,

He sits and he laughs for he knows who;

Who made the stars and sky above,

Who made man and Who is Love.

His smile shines for all to see,

Reminding the world there is a King;

A King who reigns with truth and grace,

Calling all who seek His face.

The Cheshire Moon shines down on thee,

telling the world with verity,

There is purpose and there is peace

Joy and laughter- a coup de grâce

to all the cynics who brood and swear

that there is nothing really there.

The Cheshire Moon is laughing still,

Calling all to listen who will;

To listen to the music of life,

the everyday stories, the struggles, the strife.

To listen and laugh with a heart at rest,

knowing the One who knoweth best.

"When Helping Hurts"- A Review

2009-10-28T16:34:00.012-04:00

There are six things the Lord hates. Seven that are an abomination to Him- Prov. 6:16.

Pride is the first and most insidious. It is a flesh eating disease of the soul--an inhibitor of grace, mercy, and redemption, causing the ultimate poverty of spirit. Before this or any other form of poverty can be remedied, we must repent on our knees at the foot of the cross. Then and only then can we practice true and undefiled religion by lifting our hearts and hands to the call of Christ to minister to the poor and needy, the widows and orphans in distress. Such is the convicting call of When Helping Hurts: How to Alleviate Poverty Without Hurting the Poor and Yourself by Steve Corbett and Brian Fikkert.

There is no room for pride in God’s economy, especially when 40 percent of the world’s population is living on less than two dollars a day. That's less than the extra hot, skinny, pumpkin spice latte I bought this morning. We have been given much. Much will be required. Even in our present economic slump we are incredibly wealthy compared the rest of the world and have a massive responsibility to minister to the poor.

First, we must shift our paradigm. When Helping Hurts pushes us to do this by defining poverty. Think about it a moment...who are the poor? Like me, your answer probably focused on the economically destitute.

That is true in part, but as you will discover in reading this book, there are actually four spheres of poverty: spiritual intimacy, being, community, and stewardship. All of us are broken in one or more of those spheres and “until we embrace our mutual brokenness, our work with low-income people is likely to do more harm than good,” the authors state.

Repentance and humility must precede, envelope, and characterize all further endeavors towards poverty alleviation. Fundamentally, this means restoring people to right relationship with God, with themselves, with others, and with the world around them. This is only possible through continued reliance on Christ as we repent from our superiority and seek to restore dignity to the destitute.

This is practically achieved by understanding the situation and appropriately diagnosing the remedy. Is relief, rehabilitation or development necessary? Determining the response is pivotal, because more harm than good can come of an incorrect diagnosis.

The authors define each stage in specific detail: relief is an immediate response to an unexpected catastrophe through temporary and emergency aid; rehabilitation is working with people to help them rebuild the beneficial elements of their lives and community; and development is an ongoing process in which both those helping and those being helped are restored to right relationship with God, self, others, and creation.

“The root issue in all of these considerations is that God, who is a worker, ordained work so that humans could worship Him through their work. Relief efforts applied inappropriately often cause the beneficiaries to abstain from work, thereby limiting their relationship with God through distorted worship or through no worship,” said Alvin Mbola, a Kenyan community development worker.

We must view those we are seeking to help with honor and respect as thinking, creative individuals, created in the image of God. Every person has specific gifts. It is imperative to discover and foster those gifts.

This strategy is known as “asset based community development” or the ABCD method. Christian agencies find this an effective strategy as it utilizes the individuals’ and community’s resources of land, social networks, knowledge, animals, savings, etc. This strategy affirms those in destitute communities by helping them discover what is right with them and the ways God is already working in their community.

The “helpers” then have an understanding of what assets a community has and what they are lacking. The next step can be perilous and must be carefully and thoughtfully mapped-out. The danger in bringing outside resources into a community is that the current infrastructures such as banks, construction companies, and small businesses can be destroyed, albeit unintentionally.

The authors believe that “it would be far better to let a nonemergency need go unmet than to meet that need with outside resources and cripple local initiative in the process,” strongly emphasizing the importance of not doing things for people that they can do for themselves.

Restoration comes by allowing people to worship God through planning, envisioning, and carrying out their work. The authors give example after example of the effectiveness of participatory reconstruction and development of a depressed community. They contrast the old model of development known as “The Blue Print Approach”- a one size fits all approach with “The Learning Approach”- a method that seeks the involvement, wisdom, and participation of the community. This approach can take years to produce change, but the change is more lasting.

The emphasis is on relationships and time. Consequently, this method collides with the idea of short-term missions (STMs). The authors devote an entire chapter to discuss the disadvantages and potential ineffectiveness of the popular short-term mission trip. Sadly, more harm than good can be done through them. The time and understanding necessary for long-term change are not always in place and cannot be produced in two weeks.

One missions’ expert put it this way: “To get the job done (on our time scale), imported technology becomes more important than respect for elders, for old courtesies, for taking time. We end up dancing like elephants. We dance hard and we have big feet.”

That is not to say that there is no place for short-term missions. The authors believe that STMs can be effective and productive if they are part of a larger, already established effort. For instance, groups going to minister to missionaries already in place, or going with an organization with an established presence and relational infrastructure can be very helpful. It is also important that the host community invite the team and be willing to have them come, learn, and serve alongside them.

The final chapters of the book focus on practical ways the church can minister to the poor at home and around the globe. Most of the poor in North America do not need relief. They need basic job skills, financial education, and the ability to save and accumulate wealth. These are all things churches can provide through various ministries, which the authors generally describe. More information and training is available on their website- whenhelpinghurts.org.

The other strategies for poverty alleviation are more complex and have to do with micro financing, savings and loan services, and entrepreneurial training. They give an overview of these methods, but direct inquiring minds to seek training from the Chalmers Center for Economic Development, founded by co-author Brian Fikkert.

Though a broad sketch of how poverty should be addressed, When Helping Hurts is a rousing call to action and an informative overview of how to seek poverty restoration in our own lives and those of the economic poor. In-depth questions at the end of each chapter and thought provoking exercises make this an ideal book for small group or bible study use. Reading and studying it will compel you to “get dirty” as the hands and feet of Christ.

If anyone has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or talk but in deed and in truth.

I John 3:17-18

Culinary Terrorism

2009-10-24T19:54:00.016-04:00

Has it ever occurred to you that cooking a pot roast could be worse than death or frying an egg more terrifying than Osama Bin Laden? I hadn't either until I heard the pathos and terror in my friend's voice as she retold the horrors of trying to cook for a gastronomically inclined husband who expects more than a steady diet of quesadillas and refried beans.

We were sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee and looking at recipes when she began to pour out her soul and the depths of her anguish. She was beside herself telling me of her complete lack of interest in cooking.

"I would clean a bathroom four times before I'd choose to make dinner," she wailed. "I try to find good recipes, but I don't even know what they are talking about half the time. I take my cookbook to the butcher counter to ask what a pork loin is or where in the world I'd find a rump roast.

One day I decided to try sweet and sour pork for dinner. I got everything I needed and started cooking. The pork had to be battered and then fried in oil. I started it way too late and Tom got home way too early. I was battering and frying away, but it was taking forever for the pork to cook. I was so afraid I wouldn't cook it enough and we would get some horrible parasite or something. The baby was wailing and Tom could do nothing to comfort her. The more he tried, the more she howled. The pork was sizzling and I was trying to hurry. Tom was hungry and losing patience.

Finally, he told me to take the baby and he'd finish cooking the dinner. I was so relieved I wanted to cry. Sophie finally settled down and Tom announced that dinner was served. He brought me a plate filled with charred bits of pork. They tasted so bad I didn't even want to eat them. It was horrible. I should have made ground beef."

I couldn't help chuckling about my friend's culinary malaise. She was being terrorized by the cook-top and phantoms of what she felt she should be capable of doing. The fact that Tom's family are devout foodies didn't help.

I made suggestions of various meals that seemed manageable, but her reply was that "Tom's mom makes that and has been perfecting it for years. I could never make it as well as she does."

That's when I pulled out my favorite ace-in-the-hole cooking advice. "Do you ever use the crock pot? It's pretty fail proof, and when your hubby gets home from work, he'll smell dinner cooking."

"Yeah, I get points for that."

"My favorite crock pot cookbook is Fix-It and Forget-It. It has everything from apple pie to beef au jus."

I think she picked it up at Barnes and Noble the next day. The only downside is that Fix-It and Forget-It doesn't have a lot of pictures, which are always very helpful. Recently, I discovered a fun blog written by a ranch wife in Oklahoma who documents her recipes with detailed photographs. Victims of culinary terrorism and devout foodies alike will enjoy Ree Drummond's fun presentation and tasty ideas. You can visit her blog at The Pioneer Woman.com.

And anytime someone would like to trade cleaning for cooking, I'm all for it. I'd happily trade dinner for a clean room. My housekeeping skills would horrify my friend, but we'll dispel my phantoms another day.

Edgar A Guest

2009-10-22T11:00:00.003-04:00

A few years ago, my grandparents gave me a little book of poetry by Edgar A Guest. The book was published in 1916. It is small and blue and fits in the palm of my hand. I have its original box. The edges are frayed and torn by time and use. Flipping through it this morning, I found the following poem. I hope it encourages you like it encouraged me.

Failures
Edgar A Guest

'Tis better to have tried in vain,
Sincerely striving for a goal,
Than to have lived upon the plain
An idle and a timid soul.

'Tis better to have fought and spent
Your courage, missing all applause,
Than to have lived in smug content
And never ventured for a cause.

For he who tries and fails may be
The founder of a better day;
Though never his the victory,
From him shall others learn the way.

The Daily Grind

2009-10-21T10:30:00.003-04:00

Osawald Chambers is one of my favorite devotional authors. This morning's reading included the following kernel of truth. May it be a blessing to you as you go about your day.

Discipleship is built entirely on the supernatural grace of God. Walking on water is easy to someone with impulsive boldness, but walking on dry land as a disciple of Jesus Christ is something altogether different. Peter walked on the water to go to Jesus, but he "followed him at a distance" on dry land (Mark 14:54). We do not need the grace of God to withstand crisis- human nature and pride are sufficient for us to handle the stress and strain magnificently. But it does require the supernatural grace of God to live twenty-four hours of every day as a saint, going though drudgery, and living an ordinary, unnoticed, and ignored existence as a disciple of Jesus. It is ingrained in us that we have to do exceptional things for God- but we do not. We have to be exceptional in the ordinary things of life, and holy on the ordinary streets, among ordinary people- and this is not learned in five minutes.

The Tale of Princess PumkinPat

2009-10-15T12:04:00.019-04:00

The pumpkin patch was a wretched place. Pumpkin-Pat hated it. It was covered in dirt and the vines tormented her constantly with their scratchy fingers. She would have given them a good swat, but Pumpkin-Pat had no hands. Pumpkins never do, of course, but Pat dreamed of having them.

She would lay for hours in the dirt, staring into the vast blue sky, imagining herself as a grand princess with long graceful hands- clean hands, covered in gloves that never got dirty. Hands that held a jeweled scepter and ruled her pumpkin kingdom with strength.

Pesky vines would be imprisoned in the dungeon of her castle and only beautiful pumpkins would be allowed to wait on her Royal Roundness. Beauty is all about girth in the pumpkin world, you see. The rounder the better.

The trouble was, Pumpkin-Pat was not as round or as clean as the other pumpkins in the patch. She was plain and ugly and the vines would not let her forget it.

Pumpkin pie, pumpkin pie.
All you're fit for is pumpkin pie.
No one wants a pumpkin
like you

They chanted as they wrapped their tentacled arms around her stem, snickering as big pumpkin tears welled up in her eyes and made mud puddles on her orange face.

Pat despised them, but they were right. She wasn't beautiful. She was just Pat. Plain old Pat. Not beautiful Perlapat like her sister or Cleopat like her cousin, but plain, homely Pumpkin-Pat. How degrading! Maybe it would be better to be made into a pie. People loved pie.

She tried to imagine being a pie, but becoming orange puree wasn't very glamorous and she was afraid it might hurt. She would probably just shrivel on the vine and join the other castaways in the compost heap.

The chuff-chuff, grumble-grumble of a tractor engine rolled through the biting autumn air. They were harvesting today and all her beautiful siblings and cousins were wishing each other well as they ventured off to become centerpieces or tablescapes. Pat barrelled deeper into the dirt, determined not to open her eyes 'til the sound of the tractor faded and she was alone to dream her dreams and rule her kingdom.

The chuff-chuff, grumble-grumble got closer and closer. The workers were shouting and grunting with effort as they sliced the pumpkins from their vines and hoisted them into the trailer. A slice, a lift, freedom from vines, laughter, shouting- the noise was rhythmic and deafening. Pat felt herself being lifted and carried away with it all, but refused to open her eyes and watch the excitement. She just imagined she was one of the beautiful chosen ones being lifted into the trailer.

Chuff-chuff, grumble-grumble, bump, bump. Ouch! She opened her eyes in pain. What was that? She was surrounded completely by other pumpkins with no vines in sight.

"'Scuse me," she said to the voluptuous ochre beauty smooshed up against her, "Where are we?"

"Dahling," the elegant globe said, "we are going to meet our Destiny."

"Where is our destiny?" Pat asked.

"Seriously?" the damsel drawled. "How provincial can you be?"

Pat was embarrassed. She would never be elegant. She just wanted to know where she was. At least there were no vines. She closed her eyes and fell asleep dreaming of crowns and gloves and jeweled shoes.

It was dark when she woke-up. There were no pumpkins on top of her anymore and she was cold. She looked around and saw a big black field with white lines on it. It was a strange looking field. The ground looked very hard and there were lamp posts growing in it. She had never seen a lamp post, but she had heard about them from the old tractor. They cast little puddles of light around them.

"How beautiful they are," she thought. She could hear people's sleepy voices grumbling about how early it was, but she couldn't turn around and look. She just stared at the lamp posts and the black field. The sun rose and cars started pulling into the field, parking between the white lines.

"How odd this all is. Where are the vines and the tractor?" she wondered. "Is this destiny?"

People got out of the cars and walked past her. Some stopped and looked at her.

"Oh look. Pumpkins. We need a pumpkin for the table." They picked her up and looked underneath her, ignoring her altogether. "Oh! Here's a nice big, plump one. Perfect for the centerpiece."

The voices died away and Pat stared at the cars until her eyes hurt. People came and went all day, but no one wanted her. Sometimes they almost picked her, but they always saw another pumpkin in the bin that was cleaner or bigger or more orange. How she missed the pumpkin patch and the blue sky and the quiet air. At least there she could pretend she belonged and was beautiful. Here, there was no pretending.

The sun went up and went down. The day was almost over and the sunlight was dripping out of the sky leaving it darker and darker. Pat was sure she would be thrown away soon. She almost hoped she was. She couldn't bear it any more.

Then a lady walked up. She didn't say anything. She just started picking up pumpkins and looking at them. She had a nice face and seemed kinder than the others who had manhandled Pat all day. She looked at Pat and turned her around examining the big splotch of dirt smeared over her face. She put Pat down and looked at the other pumpkins. Pat sighed and a tears welled up in her eyes. She was tired of destiny.

The lady walked back to Pat and picked her up, brushing off the dust. She smiled.

"Nothing a little wash cloth won't fix," she said carrying Pat inside and paying for her.

Pat was in shock. Somebody wanted her. Somebody thought she was beautiful. She sat on a soft seat inside the lady's car. It was so much better than bouncing in the trailer. She felt like a princess. How could life get any better?

The car stopped and the lady gently carried her inside the house. She got a warm cloth and wiped Pat's face and body. The warm water felt so good. Pat wanted to sing. Then the lady put her up on a table.

A few minutes later, Pat heard a little girl's voice. "Mama, Mama, I saw the ducks and fed them and there were lots of them and..." she chattered on and on 'til her mama interrupted her.

"Baby, come see what Mama got you at the store."

The little blond girl ran up to the table. "A pumpkin, a pumpkin," she squealed in excitement. "Look, Daddy, a pumpkin."

"Here, have Daddy help you get her dressed," the lady said taking out a bag with two beautiful hands wearing gloves, two jeweled shoes, a sparkling crown, and dangling earrings. Pat was speechless. Her dream was coming true.

The man carefully put on the arms, the shoes, the crown, the ears and earrings, two beautiful eyes, a nose and lovely set of red lips. He turned her around for the little girl to see.

"Isn't she beautiful?" the lady said. "Let's call her Princess PumpkinPat, her Royal Roundness."

2009-10-14T10:53:00.008-04:00

Story Time for Tots

Join us for stories, songs, and fun on Thursdays,
10-10:30 AM in the EVBC Bookstore

1820 W. Elliott Rd, Gilbert, AZ

Begins October 29th

This is specifically for children 4 and under, so please plan on attending with your child.

Call 480.889.5389 for more information

The Children's Hour

2009-10-12T09:45:00.005-04:00

I am in the process of starting a story time for other mom's with small children. I love children's books and of course have several favorites- Blueberries for Sal, Bread and Jam for Frances, Make Way for Ducklings, Curious George, The Little Engine that Could, and The Bear Hunt, to name a few. I need your suggestions. What are a few of your favorite children's books, and why?

In the meantime, enjoy the following poem. It is also one of my favorites.

The Children's Hour
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

BETWEEN the dark and the daylight,
When the night is beginning to lower,
Comes a pause in the day’s occupations,
That is known as the Children’s Hour.

I hear in the chamber above me
The patter of little feet,
The sound of a door that is opened,
And voices soft and sweet.

From my study I see in the lamplight,
Descending the broad hall stair,
Grave Alice, and laughing Allegra,
And Edith with golden hair.

A whisper, and then a silence:
Yet I know by their merry eyes
They are plotting and planning together
To take me by surprise.

A sudden rush from the stairway,
A sudden raid from the hall!
By three doors left unguarded
They enter my castle wall!

They climb up into my turret
O’er the arms and back of my chair;
If I try to escape, they surround me;
They seem to be everywhere.

They almost devour me with kisses,
Their arms about me entwine,
Till I think of the Bishop of Bingen
In his Mouse-Tower on the Rhine!

Do you think, O blue-eyed banditti,
Because you have scaled the wall,
Such an old mustache as I am
Is not a match for you all!

I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away!

Conceptually Charming

2009-10-10T17:26:00.009-04:00

Have you ever been rushed for time and bought something that, theoretically speaking, should be terrific only to go home and find it it falls on the horrific end of the scale? This morning, my sister Catherine and I were casually strolling through J.C. Penney, trying not to be squashed or drowned by the tsunami of sale-seekers flooding the store. Catherine was pushing McKenzie. I was looking for a new blouse for the first game of the Arizona Fall League, in which Josh will represent the Orioles as a member of the Phoenix Desert Dogs. It is my rule that I buy a new article of clothing when a new baseball season begins.

Fall League begins Tuesday. Game time- 12:35. Today it was time to go shopping. We made a few stops before J.C. Penney. The parking lot was packed by the time we got there. Everyone else must have seen the same sale flier in the newspaper I did. Drat. What do people need to read the paper for? I should be the only one who sees these great deals.

We went in anyway. It was worse inside, but we persevered. Then my phone gave a well know shiver. Sliding it open to see who was texting me, I kept flipping through racks, mentally discarding everything I saw. Nope: too high school. Definitely no: too plaid. Not a chance: too Hannah Montana.

"I'll be done at 12," the text from Josh said. I glanced at my watch. It was 11:20. There was no way I could find a new shirt and two shower gifts, drop Catherine off at home, and get to Tempe in 40 min, unless I dropped everything and left, but I just couldn't do that.

The hunt was on. From strolling we went to charging, from flipping to rifling. We flew through juniors, and ladies, and back through ladies. Nothing seemed right. Too much or too little or just ugly. Then I saw a cute little black skirt. It was full and gathered at the top to a wide stretchy waistband. Very hip with a vague throwback to June Cleaver, albeit several inches shorter. It was clearanced clearanced, which was also attractive.

"That's cute," Catherine said.

"I know," I wailed, glancing at the fleeting time. "What am I going to wear with it?"

"How about this?" she said, holding up a white tank top flaunting a black chiffon rose and black beads draping the neckline.

"Oh...I don't know. It might work. I guess I could wear it tucked in to the skirt like all the little dresses that are 'in.'"

"Yeah, that would be really cute."

"O.k., I guess if I don't like it I'll just return it. We've got to hurry."

We sprinted through the baby and the home goods sections and made a mad dash to the check-out counter. I kept checking my watch. 11:37. 11:40. Yiiikes! Finally, we were out the door and in the car. There was no way I could be there by noon, so I texted Josh and told him I would be there at 12:15.

We pulled in to player parking at Phoenix Municipal Stadium at 12:15:05. I made it.

When we got home, I was curious to see if it was going to work, but duty called. McKenzie had to go potty, which I really think is all about the jelly beans she earns; she needed to eat lunch; and I needed to reply to several text messages that were buzzing my phone. I finally got her settled for her nap and went to don my purchases.

The skirt was cute, but I wondered if I should have gotten a bigger size. Oh well. It zipped. Time for the shirt. I untangled the attached necklace and examined the black rose, off-centered on the left side, and larger than life. I wiggled into it. Form-fitting would be an understatement. I would definitely need a camisole. I tucked it into the skirt, which to fit comfortably had to sit higher than my waist. I was skeptical.

I walked into the bathroom to examine my creation. Horrors! If I planned on waitressing at a Halloween spook-a-thon, where the skirts were merely a formality, I would fit the bill. Maybe it would be better if I pulled the skirt down to a humane length? It wasn't. It just made me look like an asparagus dressed in black and white with an unnaturally long torso. Well, maybe if I untucked the tank top and kept the skirt at the waist it would work? It didn't. I even tried it with black leggings underneath. I looked like a punk rocker chic who had sprouted a voluminous growth of black fabric. Never mind.

I laughed as I squirmed out of the skirt and peeled off the tank top, happily re-attiring myself in my blue jeans and striped t-shirt. I folded my costume neatly and put it back in the bag. I got the discount for spending $50, but I'll be making returns Monday morning.

Paradox of Pleasure

2009-10-02T19:41:00.005-04:00

Last week I started running again after an extended hiatus. I hate running. Legs of lead, lungs on fire, a head throbbing to the pounding of my feet- not pleasant. The trouble is, I love the rush of accomplishment and the feeling of well-being and the knowledge that I beat my own laziness and the seductive inclination to be coddled by the couch. A paradox, to be sure.

Then I cleaned the bathroom. Trying not to breathe the Clorox, I began to see a pattern that transcended my shower walls. There are many things in life that I dislike or even loathe doing but do them anyway because the pain is worth the pleasure or product that results. Running and cleaning are just two examples.

Child birth is another: there is nothing comfortable about it; and there is nothing like the beaming bursts of joy sparkling from a new mother's eyes. Travel is similar. A man of letters once said that "traveling expands the soul." That is true once you get there, but the getting there is hellacious and causes more atrophy than anything else. So the paradox remains.

So what? Does it matter that things worth having are often painful? I thought of Christ's crucifixion- the most physically, mentally, and spiritually painful experience any human endured. It was the means of the ultimate salvation- a relationship with our Creator and salvation from His just wrath. The crucifixion of the Perfect Man made salvation a reality for all who would believe. This is the true form of the paradox. Everything else is but a shadow of this exchange.

This thought haunted me until I realized that in our little human exchanges of pain for something greater we are imitating the ultimate exchange. We are imitating Christ, "who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross , despising shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God" (Hebrews 12:2).

Life is a Highway...

2009-09-11T12:45:00.002-04:00

Three days, nearly 3000 miles, and eight states later, we are finally home. McKenzie and Josh are out splashing jubilantly in the pool, and I am slowly sorting through piles of mail, clothes, toys, etc. Along the way we spent time with our dear friends the Gordons and visited with my brother Garrett and his beautiful family. As I still haven't posted the pictures from the end of the season, I will just do an all-inclusive picture post later today or tomorrow.

Thank you all for your prayers. Once again, the Lord blessed us with travel mercies and brought us safely home. God is good!!

More later...

Today is Our Last Day

2009-09-07T11:02:00.003-04:00

Today is Labor Day- the last day of the minor league season. We are almost done. One more game and this year's "race" will be complete. In two hours, we will hear the National Anthem played at a ball park for the last time this summer. It feels a bit surreal. But we are so excited to be heading home...see our family...go to our church...sleep in our beds...go swimming in 100 degree weather...and the list goes on and on. There is truly no place like home!

The last month has been an emotional roller coaster and has felt in some ways like the last mile of a marathon. I will try to explain more about that later. Through it all, God has shown Himself strong and mighty to save time and time again and we stand in awe of His power and mercy. I have lots of pictures of the last month and will try to post those tonight.

We are off to get ready for THE LAST GAME.

Have a wonderful holiday!!!

Life...

2009-08-12T16:20:00.004-04:00

The last two weeks have been not too busy and not too slow. Just busy enough that I did not have the time or energy to blog and just slow enough that I had nothing remarkable to relate. The first week we enjoyed a visit from our good friends Ken and Karen, McK and I battled colds, and endured a miserable, rainy, nearly four hour ballgame in which Josh pitched 2.1 innings and I was the object of an irate usher's screaming tirade.

The second week was filled with jogging in sauna-like weather, watching Josh pitch at Fenway Park in a minor league promotion called Futures at Fenway, and being berated by my two year old. I have come to the conclusion that parenting a two year old is a great way to daily take up the cross and follow Jesus by dying to one's self, one's plans, one's desires, and one's pride.

A two year old will slaughter pride effortlessly. Take for instance the child who upon entering a baseball stadium goes cavorting down concrete steps at neck breaking speed just to irritate her mother who finally catches up to her and is treated to a back arching, ear-splitting entrance to Section 100 (the one directly behind home plate). To complete the tableau a random fan in the adjacent section feels the necessity to offer his laughing assistance, which is actually the last thing one should offer a mother with a recalcitrant child, unless you are looking for a knuckle sandwich.

In between all that, McK and I had a great time hanging out with our host "parents" Steve and Kay, who are practically like an aunt and uncle. They took great care of us while Josh was gone. Steve made some delicious bean burritos one evening, which were worthy of any Mexican food restaurant back home. Friday evening we went out on the town for "First Friday" in Old Town Portsmouth and Saturday Steve grilled some mammoth steaks in honor of a friend's birthday.

First Friday is a city wide happy hour. All the shops stay open late and there are bands playing on the street. Kay owns a stationary shop, so while she finished up at the store, Steve and McK and I strolled up and down High Street. McK painted her face with a cherry snow cone and Steve and I tasted some addictive garlic & chive cheese at a wine bar called Angry Adams. When Kay was done we ate dinner at Roger Brown's, a cavernous sports bar and grill similar to an ESPN Zone or a Damion's Bar and Grill.

Saturday afternoon we were able to watch Josh's game at Fenway Park on MiLB TV. It is 11 hours from here to Boston, so McK and I couldn't go. I was bummed I was going to miss it, but was ecstatic to find it available through MinorLeagueBaseball.com. Josh texted a few pictures before the game. They are a little fuzzy but fun nevertheless. One is take from the spot in right field where Ted Williams hit a home run over 500 feet. Incredible.

Right now it is pouring buckets of rain and I just had to go move the car because Waverly St is a river. Anyway...I hope your week is blessed and filled with God's grace and mercy. Off to watch the rain...

Awesomtistic!

2009-07-29T16:00:00.008-04:00

We met Randy and Janet Tomlin two seasons ago when Randy was Josh's pitching coach with the Potomac Nationals. Randy played in the big leagues with the Pirates in the 90's, was the pitching coach at Liberty University for many years, and is in his third year coaching in the Nats organization. He is the pitching coach in Harrisburg this season.

Josh has learned a lot from him both on and off the field. Last year when Josh was going through a rough period on the mound, Randy took time out of his busy schedule to write him an incredible e-mail, encouraging and admonishing Josh to stay focused and not lose heart. It made a huge impact on Josh. Janet has become a dear friend of mine and I consider her a big sister in the Lord. She has taught me so much about being a godly wife and mother and doing both in baseball. We got to see them when we were in Harrisburg earlier in the season and I was able to have Janet over for lunch in Bowie right before we moved to Norfolk.

Randy and Janet have three children- Coy, Ellison, and Quaid. Coy was diagnosed with autism at age three. He is 16 now. Coy is an absolute delight to be around and the love and acceptance his family has for him is an incredible witness of God's power and glory. In word and deed, they live out the truth that autistic or not, Coy is perfect just the way he is.

This month the Senators hosted an Autism Awareness Day and asked the Tomlins to participate. They made this video, which played on the jumbo-tron during the game. It is an amazing video and will bless you immensely. If you know anyone with an autistic child, please pass it on to them as well. It will encourage them and fill them with hope.

(It will take a few seconds for the video to start, after you push the play arrow.)

Senators Autism Awareness Video Tribute from Aaron Margolis on Vimeo.

Busted

2009-07-27T16:22:00.003-04:00

O.k., o.k., I confess. I didn't post the article. About a month ago, the Baysox asked me to do an interview about being married to a professional baseball player, life with a baby at the ballpark, etc., etc. Nicole Rodriguez, another pitcher's wife, spent the afternoon with me and was gracious enough to stay at the apartment with McKenzie while I drove over to the field for the interview. I didn't know what to expect as I have only interviewed other people, never vice versa.

I was nervous about it, and prayed a ton beforehand. Thank you to my prayer warriors who interceded for me as well. The Baysox Communications Manager Tom Sedlacek conducted the interview. He had some great questions and did a great job. I wasn't sure if the interview was going to be published online or in the programs they hand out at the games. Several weeks went by and Josh moved-up to Norfolk. I figured that since we were not on the team, they probably wouldn't publish it. I was wrong. Last week, the article was on the website, where some of you found it. So, if you are curious and you haven't already seen the interview, you can check it out here.

Bellies and Baseball

2009-07-21T12:30:00.005-04:00

This morning during my daily round of news gathering, I stumbled on this article about a promotion done by the Brooklyn Cyclones, the short-season A ball affiliate of the New York Mets - Cyclones celebrate expectant moms "Bellies and Baseball" night includes Lamaze class, craving station. I had to laugh. Only at a minor league ball park would you see this!

Along other fronts, McKenzie and I are bachelorettes for a few days while Josh is on the road in Gwinnett, Georgia. We will meet him Thursday in Raleigh, North Carolina where we will be staying with his aunt and uncle and their two kids. I told McK we were going to go see Seth and Soren in a few days, forgetting that a 2 year old conceives time solely in PAST and PRESENT. Big mistake. Every few hours she asks me when she is going to see "Seth and Sowen" and every few hours I have to explain what day-after-tomorrow means. We are so excited to be able to see and stay with family! We miss everyone so much during the season.

In the mean time, we are trying to keep ourselves busy. Yesterday we went to the Virginia Zoo. McKenzie liked the animals, but she was far more interested in the fountain play area in the center of the zoo. We saved that treat for last. She was sopping wet when we left. This morning we dragged ourselves out of bed early (7 o'clock is EARLY in baseball) and ran to catch the ferry to downtown Norfolk.

The MacArthur Center Mall (named after General MacArthur) was hosting a special kids event at California Pizza Kitchen, where for $6 kids got to tour the kitchen and make and eat their own personal pizzas. While it seemed a bit out of whack to be eating pizza at 10 in the morning, McKenzie didn't mind a bit and happily devoured her Hawaiian pizza with great gusto.

She is already down for her nap and I think I might sneak in a doze myself. I don't ever sleep well when Josh is gone; between too much coffee and bad dreams I only logged about four hours last night. When we wake-up, we need to go get the oil changed. The trusty 4-Runner is still going strong at over 182,000 miles. I have fun pictures of the last few days. I'll try to post them later.

Ta, ta for now!

Here, There, and Back Again

2009-07-14T14:39:00.007-04:00

The past week has felt like a mad dash. McKenzie and I drove to Norfolk on Thursday. Josh arrived at 4:30 in the morning Friday. We had games all weekend and then packed-up, checked-out, and drove back to Maryland after the 1 o'clock game on Sunday. Monday morning we were up early to pack the apartment and help our friend Ken load the furniture he and Karen loaned to us.

Everything was finally canceled, closed, returned, and completed by 3:30 when we finally got on the road to Gainesville. Traffic on the Beltway is rarely ever cooperative, but even with rush hour traffic we made it in an hour and a half. Just in time for some yummy BBQ and then a Potomac Nationals baseball game with Ken and Karen. We saw lots of old friends from Potomac including one of Josh's former coaches. It was wonderful to see everyone and catch-up a little.

McKenzie had a marvelous time giving her Daddy a little insight into her regular game-time escapades. She spent the majority of the evening playing with a little boy in the next section. At one point, Josh had her come sit with us because she was throwing a baseball. McKenzie doesn't toss a baseball, she throws it overhand and as hard as possible. That becomes problematic when the baseball is real and there are people's heads in close proximity. After about a second sitting down she says:

"Can I go play with the wittle boy, Mama."

"No. Daddy said you need to stay here."

"But he's a good wittle boy, Mama."

I couldn't keep a straight face and she eventually went back to play with the "wittle boy." Josh will happily to return to the bull-pen Thursday and leave the McKenzie chasing to me. "Your the pro," he said.

This morning Josh and Ken played golf and McKenzie and I went to Target. We will be leaving for Norfolk in another hour or so. Josh will play catch tomorrow and hopefully we'll get to escape to the beach for a few hours in the afternoon. The normal routine starts again on Thursday. We will be staying with family friends who live just across the Elizabeth River from the field and who we are hugely indebted too.

All in all, it's been a great week. It was incredibly hectic, but it was a grand display of God's gracious guidance and perfect timing, for which we just thank and praise Him. We could not have timed this more perfectly. Please continue to keep us in your prayers- that we keep our eyes on our Savior, that we are bold and gracious witnesses of His greatness, and that Josh continues to be a faithful and diligent asset to his team.

Here are some pictures I took over the weekend in Norfolk. Enjoy!

Going to Charlotte's Web

2009-07-07T01:49:00.006-04:00

McKenzie wants to go to Charlotte's Web. Not because she wants to see the perspicacious spider, or the gregarious pig, but because her daddy is there. Before I utterly confuse you, let me explain where Charlotte's Web is and why Josh is there.

Josh left on July 4th for a 3 day road trip to Altoona, Pennsylvania. The Eastern League selected him a few days earlier to be All-Star and play in the All-Star game in Trenton, New Jersey. We were humbled, excited, and honored. So off he went to Altoona while McKenzie and I had a little Baysox girlfriend/wife 4th of July party at our apartment. The weekend flashed by and before we knew it it was Monday afternoon and we were looking forward to be seeing Josh late that night.

At 4 in the afternoon my phone started ringing. It was Josh. Josh NEVER calls me once he is at the field, particularly in Altoona because they don't get any reception in the locker room. I knew something was different. After our usual "Hi. What's up. Not much" prelude, he told me that the Orioles had just moved him up the triple-A Norfolk Tides.

Hurray!!! I'm so proud of you!! came tumbling out along with a lot of "Oh, wows!" interspersed with all the other things you say when you are happy, excited, proud, and nervous and don't really know what to say, while at the same time your mind is racing about moving, apartments, schedules, travel, blah, blah, blah, blah, blah.

So getting down to the facts...he would come home with the team that night as planned and then fly out of Baltimore Tuesday to meet the team in Charlotte, North Carolina. He got in at 2 in the morning and we all went home and collapsed in a complete state of exhaustion.

Morning and laundry and getting him ready to go came quickly, but we were so thankful that we had a few hours together as a family. Josh and McKenzie wrastled around laughing and howling. They snuggled and read books and were silly. Crumbled in a heap together on the couch, Josh told McKenzie that he was going on a BIG AIRPLANE to Charlotte.

"Kinda like Charlotte's Web," he told her.

"I want to go to Charlotte's Web," she said.

"No. Just me. You are going to meet me in Norfolk on Thursday."

"YouNorfolk?"

"Yes. Norfolk."

"Oh..."

So after we took Josh to the airport and throughout the rest of the day, she kept asking to go to Charlotte's Web to see daddy and play catch with the guys. I kept explaining that we weren't going to Charlotte but that we would see daddy in a few days in Norfolk, which was followed by a lesson in how to pronounce it.

Last night we went to the game here in Bowie to see our Harrisburg friends who were in town playing the Baysox. McKenzie had a fabulous time playing with the kids and I had a fabulous time letting someone else chase her. There is nothing quite so refreshing as seeing friends you have known for more than a month who know who you are and where you are from and what you do the rest of the year. We left in the 7th inning to come home and listen to Josh's game in Charlotte.

Not more than 10 minutes after I turned on the radio at home, the announcer in Charlotte began to analyze the literal Charlotte's web that a homely spider was building in front of the press-box window. He was so entranced by the web that he occasionally got behind in his pitch count. Pun-manship is practically de rigueur in the world of sports broadcasting. No self-respecting sports announcer can resist the opportunity to capitalize on a pun.

Looking past the web, we finally found out that Josh was warming up in the bull pen and would most likely pitch the ninth. The Tides (that's us now) were up 8-4. As expected, Josh came on to finish the game and as the announcer so colorfully said "fanned the side," which in normal English means that he struck out the three batters he faced.

McKenzie and I fell down on our knees and thanked the Lord for such a great start to this next phase. We know this promotion is entirely from Him and according to His plan and we are just praising Him completely for it.

All season I prayed that if and when we got moved-up that the Lord would shepherd the timing. He has, completely and entirely. We signed a three month lease on our apartment. It is up July 15th. Josh will now have three days off for All-Star break and will not play in the Eastern League All-Star game. He is ineligible because of his promotion. That will allow us to pack and move-out together, which is a first in our married life. We have family friends in Norfolk who are helping us find a place to live.

We are blessed beyond belief and are just in awe of God's graciousness. We know that this has nothing to do with us and everything to do with the revelation of His glory, which we pray is magnified through us.

Thank you for all your prayers and support and please continue to pray that we are a blessing and light and that the Lord strengthens us as a family for this next phase. Also pray that Josh continues to be faithful and steadfast in his work and that he is able to efficiently and effectively accomplish what he is asked to do.

Off to Charlotte's Web

Right off Russell

2009-06-24T10:11:00.013-04:00

I don't have much time to write today. Josh is on the road for a week. McKenzie is doing Vacation Bible School at Bay Area Community Church in Annapolis and I am helping out with her group. This morning McKenzie, Maria, and I are going to walk a nature trail in the area and this afternoon I need to clean the house, particularly the floor.

In the mean time, I wanted to post an interview a sports blog in the Baltimore area called Right off Russell did with Josh before he left. I don't ever post interviews as it feels braggadocios to me, but I am going to break my own rule this time because I think this one gives a good snap shot of what his life is like at work. We are so blessed to be able to live out Josh's dream of playing professional ball and we know that this is a gift from God, for which we give Him all the glory. Just click on the title to read the interview. Have a blessed day!

Interview with Josh Perrault

Written by Sadler on June 23, 2009 – 1:21 pm -

Keeping it Down

2009-06-16T16:04:00.008-04:00

I have not kept my resolve to write every day. It has been 12 days since my last post and 10 since I wrote anything coherent. The day after I made my grandiose commitment it was rainy and dreadful. I spent all my time and energy keeping McKenzie busy and myself sane. I wrote a little diatribe against the rain, which I didn't think anyone would find interesting. The next day I wrote a few paragraphs from McKenzie's perspective about the baseball games. She woke up from her nap before I finished. It's cute, but "half-baked," as they say.

I have been rather busy since. Josh left on a seven day road trip last Monday. McKenzie and I spent the entire day looking fruitlessly for a pair of little white sandals. Apparently summer is officially over here and the stores are putting out winter apparel. Considering that they have had bikinis out since January, it makes perfect sense to put away summer stuff in the middle of June, I suppose.

The following day we had a disastrously poopy experience at the mall, which included a very dirty baby, a dirty stroller, a dirty car seat, dirty shoes, and dirty everything else. It was an exhausting afternoon. The day after that my friend Maria came over to listen to the baseball game and eat dinner with us, and the day after that McKenzie and I drove six hours to meet Josh for his birthday in Connecticut, which involved driving through New York City and paying over $30 in tolls to travel on the freeways, which are not free.

We arrived late in the afternoon, long after Josh went to the field, so we went and toured Mystic Seaport and devoured a hamburger at Five Guys Burgers and Fries (Probably the best burger joint ever. Sorry In-and-Out Fans). The Seaport was quaint and interesting and really a must see if you are ever in Connecticut. McKenzie and I enjoyed it immensely. That night after the game we followed the bus to New Britain, CT where we spent Friday and Saturday.

Sunday was my birthday. After breakfast and packing up, McKenzie and I waved to Josh as he headed to the field with the team. We filled up the gas tank and started south. Thankfully it was not foggy as it had been on Thursday and I was able to see the skyline as I drove through New York City. Hopefully we'll get to experience the city some day. We made it home around 4:30 that afternoon.

Grocery shopping, laundry, dishes, and unloading the car occupied the next several hours. Maria dropped by after work to deliver a birthday card and gift. She and I are the only girls here "full-time." She is really a pleasure to be around and I am so thankful for her friendship. I had just made a pot of coffee, so she drank a cup with me. Shortly after, the guys arrived. It was about 10:30 pm. They had made good time, but had not stopped for dinner. Josh was hungry, so we came home and had quesadillas and beans.

That brings us to yesterday, an off-day and the day we had officially set to celebrate our birthdays, which never fail to fall on road trips. We did lots of nothing, which was plenty. We ate good food, took naps, and only left the house twice: once for half an hour to drive five minutes to Kohl's and once for Josh and McKenzie to go to the grocery store to get a corkscrew to open my birthday bottle of wine.

While they were gone, I made dinner. Afterwards, we sat on the balcony. Josh smoked a cigar. I sipped my wine. McKenzie couldn't decide whether to be in or out. She did both, depending on the moment. Suddenly, there was a rap, rap, rap on the door.

"Josh, someone just knocked on the door. Go get it," I whispered.

He answered the door. All I could hear was a woman's voice and a "uh, huh. o.k.," from Josh.

"Who was that?"

"The neighbors downstairs asked that we keep the noise down."

"Keep it down" I hissed. "Are you serious? The most noise we ever make is when McKenzie trips and falls and what exactly am I supposed to do about that?"

"I know."

"This is an apartment for pity sake, not a spa. I put up with our neighbors running their steamroller vacuum over the floor at all hours of the day and night, hearing rap music blaring through my bathroom wall at obscene hours, and waiting for the local herd of wildebeests to come stampeding out of the stairwell and through the kitchen wall after school lets out. That doesn't include the yelling of profanity at two in the morning or the lady who bellows and guffaws into her phone in the hallway at midnight. If they want to hear loud, I can show them loud."

"Why don't you answer the door next time?"

"No. That would not be a good plan. They might get an earful."

I was furious. My devilish self wanted nothing more than to do a rousing set of calisthenics, jumping and stomping with all the force I could muster right in the middle of the living room. Thankfully, grace won out and the Holy Spirit happily restrained me from such antics. I just sat there, sipping my wine and fuming.

By the time I went to bed at 11:00 I was still upset about it, and as you can see, am not quite over it. What absolutely galls me is the presumption that one deserves quiet continuously in an apartment. Quiet+apartment= an oxymoron. By moving into an apartment we waive our rights to a certain level of peace, tranquility, and even to some extent privacy. If absolute quiet is necessary, one ought not to live like a bologna sandwich, stacked layer upon layer upon layer with other people.

With that, I will sign off for the day. McKenzie just waltzed out of her room, apparently done with her nap. She needs a fresh diaper. Clean laundry is cascading off the chair and the floor is checkered with crumbs. Work calls from every corner. The game starts in an hour and a half and I need to run to Target for shaving cream, soap, etc., etc., etc. I must be up and doing.

Ode to Barnes and Noble

2009-06-04T15:56:00.006-04:00

What does one do with a two year old

who is not entertained by the rain?

Who much prefers running to quietly coming

and driving her mother insane?

The answer I pose is really a rose,

as long as you are quite mobile.

Just pack up the babe, screeming away

and take her to Barnes and Noble.

Its entertainments are few, but with plenty to do

for a little one bent on exploring.

There are books, there are trains,

there are other chiblains to entertain my little hoodlum.

As you can see, I have spent way too much time at Barnes and Noble lately. It is incontrovertibly a great way to fill an hour when the park is too wet, or too hot, or Mama is too tired. Josh has been on the road since Monday, so we have had a lot of time to fill. Thankfully he gets home this evening.

Other than that, not much is going on in rainy Maryland. To explain how regular things are around here I thought about writing an Ode to the Washing Machine, but Barnes and Noble won the contest.

Hoping it's sunnier on your side of the street,

Steph

P.S. I am challenging myself to write for a few moments each day for a month. Today is the inaugural day of the challenge. Below is my first foray, which refers to a real place. For those of you familiar with this place, you will know right where it is, for those who don't, I guess you'll have to wait 'til more of the story is written to get in on the secret.

In an adolescent city there is a street; a busy street with busy people. One side is freckled with rows of beige houses. The other is skirted by a tall brick wall with a iron gate. The wall does not match the beige houses.

Inside the wall there is a tree. The tree is unlike any in the neighborhood. It is a barrel-chested eucalyptus, grown gnarled and gracious by time and experience. Its leafy canopy buttresses the crystalline desert sky pouring cool shade through the yard and out into the street.

Home from Home

2009-05-15T15:15:00.005-04:00

Last night McKenzie and I got home to Bowie after spending a week at home in Arizona. We had a wonderful time visiting, eating, playing, running, watching chic flics, worshipping, swimming, partying, etc. in Arizona with our family and friends. It was great to see everyone and catch-up. I took lots of fun pictures and will hopefully post them later today along with some of McKenzie's memorable moments.

Josh had a great road trip, pitching several times. We are so glad to be together as a family again and McKenzie is very excited about going to Daddy's baseball game tonight. She and I missed our baseball games and will be glad to get back to our routine.

I'm off to get coffee ready for my baseball girlies. We have a nice little wives/girlfriends group here and a couple of them are coming over for java and chit-chat in a few minutes. Please pray that the Lord is honored and that He shines through our family into the lives of those around us. Please also keep our dear friends the Shappis in your prayers. Katie's dad is battling a resurgence of cancer, which has been in remission for the past several months. For more info, check out Katie's blog.

Hugs to all!

Rain Drops Keep Fallin' on My Head, Keep a Fallin'

2009-05-05T16:50:00.006-04:00

There is a great risk tonight of our game being canceled for the third day in a row. A heavy blanket of clouds has smothered us since Saturday evening. The skies are gray. The air is sharp and chilly and heavy with moisture. Despite Sheryl Crow's advice, we have not been able to "soak up the sun." This might be normal for residents of Washington or Oregon, but for a native of Phoenix, it is a suffering, particularly when there is no baseball to relieve the house-bound monotony.

McKenzie and I consequently plan to escape. Tomorrow we flee west to happily spend a week soaking up the Arizona sunshine. Unfortunately, Josh will have to brave the weather without us, but only for a day. The team leaves on a week long road-trip Thursday. They will again play Erie and Akron, whom they have faced a combined 20 times in the last month.

We are so excited to see our family and friends back home. Please keep us all in your prayers as McK and I leave on a jet plane and Josh goes on the road again, traversing the world on the bus.

More later from a sunny place!

0 for 2

2009-05-01T14:42:00.004-04:00

Yesterday was Josh's first off-day at home. As it was a cloudy day, I woke up and started to research museums we might visit. The Baltimore Aquarium is supposed to be amazing, but it was almost $30 a person, which lowered the amazement factor considerably and subsequently my desire to go there. I thought then of the Smithsonian: D.C. is only 30 min away and the Smithsonian is free. When Josh woke up, I suggested it to him. He thought it sounded like a good idea.

"We can take the Metro," he said, "and not have to pay $20 on parking downtown."

I started to research Metro stops, times, and fares. In the meantime, I checked the news and was unhappily reminded of the swine flu. Ugh! The thought of being on a train, with who knows how many people, ridden by who knows how many people before that, was not a pleasant one.

"I'm not so sure I'm thrilled about being on the Metro right now, Babe, " I commented over our oatmeal.

"We can just stay home then."

"That's fine."

A short time later, Josh came out after getting dressed and said:

"We can drive downtown, get burgers at Five Guys and eat them on the National Mall."

"O.k. That sounds good, " I said, relieved not to have to worry about the Metro and the flu.

Off we went. When we got to D.C., it was 12:30 and people were rushing hither and thither to lunch or appointments or what-have-you. It was hectic. We saw several parking garages, but they were all at least $15. We kept driving but finally decided that we weren't going to find anything better, so we turned into the next one we saw. It was valet-only. Josh was ready to pay and hand the keys over, but I would not hear of it. The thought of a strange man getting in my car, touching I have no idea what, was too much, especially in light of the swine flu.

Josh patiently turned around and started looking for another garage. We found another shortly after. The entrance was a long, narrow tunnel, which twisted and turned. At the bottom cars were lined up in a dark, narrow corridor, with two or three men standing by. This garage too was valet-only. We turned around again and reemerged on the busy street. After driving for a few moments without discerning where we were headed, I asked him.

"Home," he said. "I don't want to fight the traffic. We can just get Five Guys by the apartment and go home and watch movies."

"O.k. I'm so sorry, Babe. I freaked out. Please forgive me."

"That's o.k. We got to see D.C. We'll come another time when we can ride the Metro."

Josh is a saint! How blessed I am to have such a calm husband.

We went home; got Five Guys, which was delicious as always; and laid down to watch a movie.

Just as we did, Josh's phone rang with a strange number.

"Better answer it," I said. "You never know who it could be," reasoning that Josh usually gets called-up on an off-day or when we are least expecting it.

He obliged reluctantly, but missed the call. A few moments later, the same number called again. He was going to let it go to voicemail, but I urged him to answer it. He did.

It was someone from the Baysox front office. They needed him to be at the field at 7 pm that evening to go to a TV interview on a local sports news talk show.

"See what happens when you answer the phone," Josh said. "I'll have to shave and I probably won't be home 'til 9 o'clock."

I smiled sheepishly. "I have caused you all sorts of trouble today, haven't I?" He just laughed.

We watched our movie and then he left to do the interview. The show came on at 8, so McKenzie and I eagerly tuned it at that moment. Josh and an outfielder were the two players being interviewed. They both wore white Baysox jerseys, as did the host of the show, which lasted about half an hour. The host inquired how they got started in baseball, chatted about minor league ball in general, and asked them how they felt about about being away from home for half the year.

"My wife and daughter always come," Josh said, "so I just bring home with me."

"That must be hard to have a family to worry about," the host replied.

"No. It's the best thing ever," Josh said. "My wife is such an amazing support to me: encouraging me, being that drive that keeps me going, praying for me. After every game, I have a text message from her on my phone that says, 'Good job, Babe! I'm proud of you!' even if I had a terrible night. It's that encouragement from her that keeps me going."

Sitting there last night in our little apartment on what feels like the far side of the world, hearing my husband say that made my heart almost burst with pride. I may have batted 0-2 yesterday, but Josh absolutely crushed it out of the park!

Thanks, my Darling, I am so honored to be Mrs. Josh Perrault!

Is That My New House?

2009-04-23T15:51:00.005-04:00

This morning was a little hectic. We had to dress, pack, eat, and be out the door by 9 am. The bus would leave at 10. No matter how many times I've packed for a road trip, it's always stressful; but we made it on time, give or take 5 min. The team will be gone for a week, but McKenzie and I will only go for the first series in Reading, PA, which is about 2.5 hours from Bowie. We have been in Reading many times with Harrisburg, but as we came from the opposite direction, we saw entirely new trees, meadows, farms, and fields. I forgot how picturesque Pennsylvania can be.

When we got to the hotel and started to "move-in," it dawned on me that we had left the diapers sitting on the floor by the couch at home. McKenzie having wet through her diaper made that a slight problem. Thankfully there was a spare in the car and a Target nearby. Josh left for the field at 2:15 and McK and I ventured out to find diapers. As we were pulling away from the hotel she looked up at it and said, "Is that my new house?"

"No, baby doll, that's the hotel. Our new house is back in Bowie. We are just staying here for a few days."

"Oh...," she said with the intonation of understanding.

It's sort of like the children's book "Is that My Mommy?" McK and I could co-author a book entitled "Is that My House?" It could be really cute.

Josh will probably pitch tonight, so please keep him in your prayers. Love and hugs to all of you!! We miss you!

Opening Day

2009-04-17T18:07:00.003-04:00

Last night was the home opener for the Bowie Baysox. The weather was nippy, but not unpleasant, and Josh pitched two great innings. Thank you, Lord!! We are getting adjusted to our new home and are so thankful to be together as a family again. I spent half an hour on the phone today, getting internet service organized. It's nearly impossible to stay connected in this day and age without the internet, especially when you live in "Mudville." Unfortunately, the modem won't arrive until April 29th, so if we appear to fall off the face of the cyber world, have no worries, we'll be back in a week or so. Thanks so much for all your prayers. The Lord is so good!

Love to all!

Home Sweet Apartment

2009-04-15T07:41:00.002-04:00

Today is a big day. For the first time in our married life, we are moving into our own apartment. I spent last week researching Craigslist, visiting potential host families, and praying lots and lots. Some of the places I visited ranged from "no-way-under-the-sun" to "hmm...it might work." Friday morning we had to make a decision. We decided to rent an apartment in the same complex where many of the other players and their wives and families are living. It is five minutes from the field, I will be around the other wives, we will have our own space, and won't feel like we are imposing on any one else.

It is an unfurnished apartment, but Karen and Ken are lending us a couch, folding table and chairs, a living room chair, and all sorts of other odds and ends. We are so thankful for such dear friends. Ken and a friend of his are helping me move the furniture up today. When Josh gets home at 3 o'clock tomorrow morning, he will have a little home waiting for him. I am excited!

Our living situation might resemble glorified camping, but I think it will be a grand adventure. We have an extra air mattress, so if you ever happen to be in Bowie, Maryland please stop by. We'd love to see you!

He is Risen!

2009-04-12T08:57:00.003-04:00

Up from the grave he arose;

with a mighty triumph o'er his foes;

he arose a victor from the

dark domain, and he lives forever,

with his saints to reign.

He arose! He arose!

Hallelujah! Christ arose!

What a joy to wake up this morning, the bright sunshine streaming in the window, knowing that that Christ is risen; He is risen indeed. Though our little family is not together to celebrate this glorious Resurrection Day, we are rejoicing in the salvation purchased by our Savior Jesus, and in the countless blessings He has richly lavished on us! Josh doesn't play today, but will be traveling from Akron to Erie this afternoon and then will be enjoying the final round of the Master's tournament when he arrives in Erie, which boasts a high of 47 today. McKenzie and I are spending Easter with our good friends Karen and Ken, our host family from two years ago when Josh played for the Potomac Nationals. They live in Gainesville, VA, which is 1-2 hours from Bowie, depending on the traffic on the Beltway.

We drove down to Gainesville on Wednesday. We are so incredibly blessed to have such wonderful friends, no, such wonderful family! Karen and McKenzie and I went to a Passion play Friday, and Easter service last night at Karen's church. McKenzie woke up to Easter eggs hidden down the stairs, and a HUGE Easter basket filled with all sorts of treats from Miss Karen and Mr. Ken. We are just sitting down to eat a delicious breakfast of eggs, pancakes, and bacon Ken prepared. Later today, Karen and I will be cooking Easter dinner, which will include some deer sausage from the deer Ken got a few months ago. Yummy!! Can't wait.

We hope and pray that you have a blessed celebration of our precious Lord's resurrection and pray that you know the joy and freedom of that first Easter morning!

Much love from all the Perraults!!

Livin' on a Prayer

2009-04-07T21:50:00.004-04:00

Josh left this afternoon on a road trip to the chilly, snow laden city of Akron, Ohio and the equally frigid Erie, Pennsylvania. He will be back next Wednesday/Thursday, depending on if the bus arrives before midnight or not. McKenzie and I are holding down the hotel room here in Bowie, praying that a family opens their home to us, very soon.

This is the first time in my "baseball career" that I have no idea of where we are going to live. Before there has always been a friend of a friend, etc., but this year, the Lord saw fit to stretch our spiritual muscles a little bit and is asking us to trust Him completely.

King David told the Lord in Psalm 142: When my spirit faints within me, you know my way. I admit that my spirit is feeling a little faint, but it is a comfort to know that our gracious Father knows the way and is guiding us down His perfect path.

I know you are all praying faithfully for us, and we appreciate that more than words can say. Please continue to pray that the Lord guides us to the right "home" and that He strengthens Josh as he begins the season tomorrow.

We pray that you have a delightful, joyful week anticipating the resurrection of our Lord and Savior.

And We're Off

2009-04-05T07:30:00.002-04:00

We are sitting in a hotel in Florence, SC en route to Bowie, MD, home of the double-A Bowie (pronounced Boo-ie) Baysox. We will be stopping in Apex, NC to visit Josh's aunt, uncle, and cousins. We wanted to make it to their house last night, but it is an 11 hour drive and we were just too tired. We will spend a few hours in Apex before completing the trek to Bowie.

Thank you so very much for all your prayers. Josh had an excellent spring training and we are excited to start the season. We continue to pray for strength of body, mind, and spirit for all of us.

Happy Palm Sunday!

It Changes by the Minute Around Here

2009-03-31T15:07:00.002-04:00

I played "text-tag" with Josh all morning. I was trying to figure out where the game was, what group he was pitching with, what inning he'd be pitching so that I didn't have to chase McKenzie around in circles for 9 innings, etc. Details, details, details. I think it's girl thing. I've got to have it all figured out right here & right now.

To offset my nervous energy, I decided to clean the bathroom that I had been avoiding for over a week. While I do despise it, cleaning does wonderful things for the soul. Scrubbing toilets is an ideal setting for praying, which at least deflects the disgusting nature of the job at hand. So I scrubbed and I prayed and scrubbed and prayed some more.

Then the phone rang. It was Josh. He didn't have to throw in the game this afternoon. The powers-that-be gave him the option of throwing in a simulated game or going to the 1 o'clock game and pitching an inning. Running on 2 hours of sleep, he opted for the simulated game and would be ready to go at 1 pm.

My heart soared! It was such a relief in so many ways. He was done pitching and had done great! Hallelujah. Thank you, Lord! He would be done at 1 and could come home and sleep. He definitely needed it. Finally, I did not have to be brave and go be the lone female in the baseball pack of alpha males for two hours while chasing my precious little energy-ball of enthusiasm around in circles.

Everyone is napping now and I plan on joining them. Actually I might sit down and read "Pride and Prejudice" for the 7th or 8th time. I was craving something familiar so my mom thoughtfully sent me my original paperback Penguin edition of Jane Austen's classic. Opening the book and seeing the words I underlined and my younger sisters' impressions of the book and the date they finished reading it inscribed in the back flap was like getting a bear hug from home. I can't wait to savour the familiar story one more time.

With that, I will sign off for the day. Josh remains on the Norfolk roster, for which we humbly thank our gracious heavenly Father. Thank you for your effectual prayers. Please continue to ask that the Lord grant Josh favor in the sight of the coordinators as they make the final roster decisions and that if it be God's will we break camp with triple-A.

May God be gracious to us and bless us and make his face to shine upon us, that his way may be known on earth, his saving power to all nations.

Psalm 67:1-3

A Very Late Night

2009-03-31T08:48:00.004-04:00

Josh did not pitch last night after all. They left Port St. Lucie at 9:30 PM and should have arrived here around midnight. Because of a head-on collision and a fatality on the two lane highway they were traveling on , they did not get back until almost 4 AM. Thankfully, the coordinator who drove the "shuttle" dropped Josh off here at the house so I did not have to drive down to the field and pick him up at o'dark-thirty.

We got about 3 hours of sleep before it was time to get up and get back to the field. No rest for the weary. Josh is scheduled to pitch this afternoon against the Reds, who mercifully are here in Sarasota. As far as I know he is still on the Norfolk roster, but will be pitching for Bowie this afternoon. Please pray that despite his exhaustion he will go out with strength and confidence and that the Lord bless him with an excellent outing.

Although we were disappointed he didn't get to pitch last night, we are so thankful that the Lord brought him home safely and know that God is working according to our good and His glory. As you go about your day, keep the family members of the people who died in that crash in your prayers. It is frightening to think how easily that could be someone in your family.

Have a blessed Tuesday!!!

Ridin' the Roller Coaster

2009-03-30T07:25:00.004-04:00

It is 7:30 and the house is still quiet. Normally by this time Josh has already eaten, dressed, read our devotional and is getting ready to walk out the door. Not today.

It all started two days ago when I picked him up from the field.

"So are you pitching tomorrow?"

"Yep. I am still on the Norfolk (triple-A) roster, but they have me scheduled to pitch with Bowie (double-A)."

"Oh. They probably just want to make sure you get your innings in. Do you care?"

"Not really. I'm still pitching. I just have to go out there and do the same thing. They have just as good of hitters down there."

"That's true. But you'll be great!"

My heart played tug-0f-war that afternoon between the temptation to doubt God's perfect plan and the conviction that I must trust Him implicitly. I felt like the Lord was saying to me, "Stephanie, this is a test. Do you trust me to accomplish my best for you?"

We went to church that evening. During praise and worship, while McKenzie was trying to give her baby doll a piggy-back ride on my shoulders, I was reminded of our prime purpose on this earth: to worship and glorify God. Baseball is just a catalyst for His glory. I knew the Lord was asking me to let go and let Him be God. I had to surrender. Honestly, it was only by His grace because my controlling human heart would rather have held on to the worry and anxiety and tried to handle it alone, but there is such peace when we finally let Christ carry the weight.

Letting go was freeing. We went home, Josh grilled hot dogs, I heated up the chili beans, and we had a good ol' American supper: chili dogs. It was great fun!

We woke up the next morning to lightning and the sound of rain gushing down the drain pipes. I began to have doubts about there being any game that day. Games are never called (canceled) until the last possible moment, so we proceeded with our normal routine. By the time McKenzie and I got home after dropping Josh off, it was pouring. The games were to be in Port Charlotte, and from the radar on weather.com it didn't look they were fairing much better than we were.

Nevertheless, I kept praying for Josh, that he would be ready for the game in body, mind, and spirit. I did the dishes, and washed and folded the laundry. The sky was still pouring rain at 9:30. It did not look promising. Josh called shortly after: the games were canceled.

Back in the car we went to pick him up from the field. We were going to have an impromptu off-day. How delightful! When he got in the car he said he would throw Monday in either a simulated game or the Bowie or Norfolk game and that he was still on the Norfolk roster.

I am a slow learner, but it began to dawn on me that the Lord knows where and when it is best for him to pitch, so all afternoon I prayed that the Lord would have him pitch with the team which would be the most advantageous and that the Lord would grant him favor and grace in the sight of the coordinators.

We had a wonderfully relaxing afternoon. I took a two hour nap, Josh got to watch Tiger Woods win the Arnold Palmer Invitational (Josh can't believe he survived for whole year without watching Tiger), and McK took a long nap and helped me go grocery shopping. I was cleaning up after a late dinner when the house phone rang. I figured it was either my mom or the land-lady.

"Hello."

"Yes. Hello. Is this Stephanie?" said a man's voice.

"Yes it is," I said hesitantly.

"Is Josh there?"

"He is. May I tell him who's speaking."

"Len Johnson." (Len is the Orioles minor league camp coordinator.)

"Just one moment, please."

I motioned for Josh.

"Hello. Ok. Great. 1 o'clock. I'll be there."

He was going as back-up with the big league team again. This time to Port St. Lucie on the other side of the state for a 7 PM game against the Mets.

I plopped down on the coach and laughed. I guess the Lord figured the big league team would be the most advantageous place for Josh to play today. I turned to McKenzie and said, "Welcome to the baseball roller coaster, Baby Girl. Just as soon as you relax and let it go the phone rings and off you go again."

Since Josh doesn't have to be at the complex until lunch time, he and the baby slept in this morning and we had a nice leisurely breakfast. I am thankful that we can spend the morning together. We won't see Josh 'til early tomorrow morning when he gets back from the game, probably around 1 or 2 AM. It is three hours to and from Port St. Lucie, so McKenzie and I will be cheering Josh on over the internet from home.

We are so thankful for this opportunity and are praying that if the Lord wills, Josh have the opportunity to pitch and that he goes out with boldness, courage, and victory, bringing God all the glory through his work. Thank you for your continued prayers. You can keep track of the box score on the Orioles' website, and I will post an update as soon as I can after the game.

Have a blessed Monday!

My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day, for their number is past my knowledge. With the mighty deeds of the Lord God I will come; I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone.

Psalm 71:15-16

My Soul Magnifies the Lord

2009-03-27T19:48:00.003-04:00

Josh's outing yesterday was great. 3 outs, 7-8 pitches. We are praising and thanking God for the blessing of a strong outing. As Mary, the Mother of Christ, so appropriately said...

My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior... for he who is mighty has done great things for me and holy is his name.

Luke 2:46,49

Nevertheless, today was not a day of rejoicing for all baseball families. The Orioles released a few players, one who is married with a two year old son. Other players we know were released from other organizations. As with any profession, losing a job is very difficult, especially when that is what you have done your entire life. Please pray that the Lord would strengthen and provide for these families and lead them down a good and gracious path.

Infinite Perfections

2009-03-26T09:17:00.006-04:00

Hanging in the fog between sleep and wakefulness last night, stripped of all bolstering strengths, my heart rushed to the brink of tears as the various possibilities of the coming months danced in phantasmic forms before me. Out of the darkness, the Holy Spirit brought the words of Christ from Matthew 6:31-33 to mind.

"Therefore do not be anxious, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' ... Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness and all these things will be added to you."

After that, I fell asleep.

Thinking about that verse, I am reminded of all the ways the Lord has blessed us and how He never fails to provide for us. On our refrigerator, the following lists are posted. The one on the left is the Spring Training Schedule and the list of coordinators and coaches. The one on the right is a list of the great things God has done for us as Samuel admonishes the people of Israel to remember in 1 Sam. 12:24.

This is a cogent reminder of where our hearts must be focused and who is really the Coordinator of All. Last night, Josh and I were discussing how it is comforting to know that while the Coordinators and GM's may write the decisions on paper, it is our good and gracious Father who makes the ultimate choices, directing times, people, and places according to His good and perfect will.

There are 10 days left of Spring Training, and generally, these are the most stressful as the final cuts are made and the rosters finalized. Josh pitches today and will probably have two more outings after that. We are praying that he would be brave and strong, that his mechanics would be excellent, his pitches sharp, and his work effective.

We praise and thank our loving God and Father for the wonderful blessings He has given us in the last three weeks and the success He has given Josh. We know that all good things come from His hand and praise Him humbly for them. It is to Him and Him alone we direct our thanksgiving and praise.

Matthew Henry said, every stream should lead us to the fountain and the favours we receive from God should raise our admiration of the infinite perfections there are in God.

We are confident that the Lord is directing our path and look forward with anticipation to our future destination as ambassadors of Christ.

Green Dresses and Good Baseball

2009-03-23T13:31:00.003-04:00

For the second year in a row, I bought a sundress to kick-off spring training. It is a floor-length, kelly green dress with an empire waist and a sweetheart neckline. I don't ever wear dresses that long because of my height, but this dress actually made me look taller, if you can imagine that.

It was outside my comfort zone, but I decided to be brave and buy it. I put it in my closet and tried it on several times. Finally I decided to take the plunge. Josh was pitching at home on Sunday, which dawned sunny and breezy. By all indications, the perfect day for a green sundress. All morning I did pep talks.

"It's a free country," I told myself. "I can wear whatever I darn well please to a baseball game. If they think I'm weird, who cares. Let them think what they want."

At 1:15, the big moment came. It was time to put the dress on in all it's flowing greenness. I had planned to wear flip-flops. One pair made me look like a flower-child and the other looked ridiculously dorky. The most attractive option was my flax pumps with a three inch heel. I really looked tall now. What is it about height that imbues power?

I could "feel the power" but I could also feel the nausea building in my stomach. I am not generally a proponent of wearing heels to baseball games, though I do it from time to time when my pants are too long or when I feel fat and want to look taller. While of course being terribly cute, they are terribly impractical, often hideously uncomfortable, and at times dreadfully dangerous as metal bleachers tend to snag shoes and trip their occupants.

I had already committed time, money, and energy to this dress. I wasn't about to let wearing heels stop me. So I didn't. I slipped on those heels, grabbed the baby, and off we went before I had time to have second thoughts. We arrived at the field at 2:30. Josh was not scheduled to pitch until the 9th inning. It should be about the 5th inning. Perfect timing.

The field is part of a city park. Like most city parks, it's a shorts and t-shirt atmosphere. The fields are arranged in clover-leaf fashion, with the player parking lot and the clubhouse on the north side. A long, blacktop path runs from the clubhouse to the center of the cloverleaf, where all the bleachers are located. Players, coaches, trainers, friends, family, and fans regularly walk back and forth on this path.

I took a deep breath and started down the path with as much grace as I could muster, pushing McKenzie in her stroller, my green dress blowing around me in the breeze. A few players walked by and just sort of looked at me. I mustered a friendly, disinterested "Hi, how are you?" and marched on. If this was anything like running the gauntlet, I felt the pain of past sufferers. At long last, I got to the bleachers, which provided no respite whatsoever.

The double-a and triple-a teams were playing on two separate fields. In addition to the players in the game, there are countless other players in running shorts and turf shoes, watching the game, charting, catching foul balls, or hanging around laughing, spitting great wads of spit with their buddies. When Josh was with the Nationals, I could figure out which field he was on by seeing who else was in each group. I don't know the Orioles' players well enough to do that yet.

There I was, green from head to heal, getting stared at by the gum-spitters, trying to protect the baby from foul balls hurtling out of both fields, and straining with every ounce of eyeball muscle to find Josh. Thankfully, he put me out of my obvious confusion by stepping out of the dug-out and waving.

What a relief! I did have a legitimate reason to be there. The rest of the game was spent trying to keep McKenzie out of the way of the players and coaches milling around, trying not to get my heels caught in the hem of the dress, and trying to watch and pray for Josh in between it all.

He came on about 30 minutes after we got there with two outs in the 7th and runners on 1st and 3rd. A ground ball to short was all they needed to turn a double play and end the inning. He was back on in the 8th, struck out the first hitter, gave up a double to the second, struck out the third, walked the fourth, and got the 5th out on a pop fly to short. It was not as clean as he would have liked, but it was strong and he showed he could pitch in tough situations. Thank you Lord!

He is scheduled to throw again Wednesday. We are praying a few things: that his arm/shoulder stays strong and healthy; that he is able to consistently get on top of the ball and throw strikes to the inside; and that he keep his arm up while pitching. The Lord has truly been answering all our prayers and we thank you for joining us as we seek His direction for us this season.

Love to all!

Popsicles at Midnight

2009-03-21T09:21:00.003-04:00

Even without baseball, life is always exciting. McKenzie woke up at 3:50 am with a fever. Motrin and a popsicle seemed to solve the immediate problem. She was asleep again by 5. We took Josh to the field at 7:40 and are now resting, watching "Mickey Mouse Club House." I think we will go out for a run shortly so that my little invalid can get some vitamin D and we can both get some fresh air.

Josh's cold is getting better, though he still sounds a bit underwater. He is scheduled to pitch tomorrow, so please pray that he is 100% by then.

May you have a delightful Saturday!

Called out on Strikes

2009-03-20T08:43:00.006-04:00

Thank you so much for all your prayers for Josh yesterday. He pitched two innings, striking out two, walking one. The first batter he faced was called out on strikes. A fantastic first outing! Thank you, Lord! He said his splitter was great and his only complaint was that he got "under the ball" instead of "on top of the ball" on a few pitches. Thas to do with the angle of his arm during the wind-up and release.

This was the first time Josh threw in an actual game and we are so very thankful for this great start to spring training. He said he probably won't throw again until Sunday, but I'll keep everyone updated.

Please continue to pray that the Lord grants Josh favor in the sight of the coordinators and coaches and that Josh would be filled with confidence, courage, and a steadfast mind and heart so that he will be able to honor the Lord with excellence in his work and be a witness for His glory.

This afternoon, McKenzie and I are planning a PB&J picnic at the beach. We wish you all could join us! We'd even pack an extra pickle- McK's favorite snack of the week.

"That God should have made the extension of His kingdom to such an extent dependent on the faithfulness of His people in prayer is a stupendous mystery and yet an absolute certainty."

~Andrew Murray~

The Funny Farm

2009-03-19T08:17:00.003-04:00

On Tuesday, McKenzie and I were exploring Sarasota on our way to pick Josh up at the field. It's always interesting to drive around new cities. I see and find the most interesting things. I almost hit an Amish/Mennonite gentleman riding the biggest tricycle I've ever seen while turning out of a shopping plaza. I discovered that Sarasota doesn't believe in continuing streets for long periods of time, but prefers to abruptly punctuate them with golf courses or retirement mobile home parks. And finally, I discovered the infamous "Funny Farm."

We were driving through a residential neighborhood when it appeared out of nowhere. It was a large ranch style house with a big yard with a jungle gym. Everything was fenced, but the swinging wooden sign, prominently hung on a tall poll, announced that I had arrived at "The Funny Farm."

I had to laugh. The last few days I've felt like I was going to lose my mind and have to be taken off to the Funny Farm. Between Josh having a cold, which for any man means that he is at death's door, McKenzie stuffing remote controls in the VCR, and the nearly constant lack of something to do other than laundry, cleaning, cooking, and wiping the oatmeal smears off the glass table for the nine-hundredth and ninety-ninth time, I truly thought I might be committed. But now that I know what it looks like, maybe it's not such a bad place. I could spend all day climbing on the jungle gym.

I'll have to take a picture of the sign. Then next time I have a "Funny Farm" day/days, I'll post it and you can all pray that I don't lose my mind, at least not permanently.

Today, that should not be a problem. Josh is pitching this afternoon in the Triple-A game against the Rays in Port Charlotte, which is about 50 miles south of Sarasota. I think that Port Charlotte is such a pretty sounding name for a city. I like trying names of cities as children's names, but I don't think that naming a child Port Charlotte Perrault would really be an option.

Don't laugh, one has to do something to entertain themselves while traversing miles and miles and miles of U.S. interstate.

All joking aside, I am so thankful for the Lord's abundant blessings in our life. Josh is feeling much better this morning, and should by God's grace be "on his game" today. Please pray that the Lord would grant him success in his labors and that Josh's work would bring the Lord glory.

May you all have a blessed and delightful Thursday!

The people whom I formed for Myself will declare my praise." ~ Isaiah 43:21

Take Me Out to the Crowd

2009-03-16T20:11:00.003-04:00

Crowded would be the best way to describe the atmosphere today at Hammond Stadium, the Spring Training home of the Minnesota Twins. Every seat held a person and a body occupied every square foot of concrete. The blistering heat (85 in Florida = 105 in Phoenix) added a sweaty veneer. It was a faithful crowd. No one left until the 7th inning. Spring Training fans are a dedicated lot.

McKenzie and I arrived in the second inning, which was early for us. It's been six months since I've had to dress myself and the baby and then drive, park, and get tickets. Doesn't sound like much, I know, but getting dressed for a game can sometimes be a dilemma. First, there is always the quandary over what to where- should I dress-up or dress down? Do I wear heels or flats? Do I want to have "player's wife" written all over me or not? That's a lot to figure out in 15 minutes while the baby is going through the nail polish bag trying to clip her toe nails, then squirting water all over the house with the spray bottle, after you've chased her around for 5 minutes trying to get her changed and dressed.

The gears were a little rusty, but we got there and squeezed our way between mounds of people to go wave at Josh in the bull pen. (He's the one dead-center. It's not a great shot, but that's the best I could do from several hundred feet away between guard rails.)

We then navigated our way through the sea of sweat to our seats and slathered our arms, legs, and faces with sun screen. Why stadiums think that having every seat bake in the sun is desirable, I have yet to determine. Maybe one day I'll find the answer.

An inning or so later, McKenzie was ready for lunch. Off we went. Squeezing, ducking, slithering between people until we finally made our way to the concession stand to wait in line. By the time we returned to section 205 with hot dog, water, and frozen lemonade in hand, it was the 5th inning. McKenzie wasn't too interested in the hot dog, but loved the lemonade.

She was a great little fan and didn't even fall apart until she tried to get down to the bull pen in the 8th inning to see her daddy. I kept praying that if it be for Josh's good and God's glory, he would get the opportunity to pitch. I guess he warmed-up once in the 7th, but they didn't end up needing him. Josh motioned for us to leave before the stampede started.

Waves of irritation started to lap at the shore of my heart as I lugged the baby to the car while she threw an all out, back-arching fit. Exhausted, I climbed into the car, turned the air on high, and got an iced latte at Starbucks. As I headed north on I-75, the Holy Spirit reminded me of the bible study I have been doing on prayer, which included the following quote from Oswald Chambers:

Some prayers are followed by silence because they are wrong, others because they are bigger than we can understand. Jesus stayed where He was -- a positive staying, because he loved Martha and Mary. Did they get Lazarus back? They got infinitely more; they got to know the greatest truth mortal beings ever knew -- that Jesus Christ is the Resurrection and the Life. It will be a wonderful moment when we stand before God and find that the prayers we clamored for in early days and imagined were never answered, have been answered in the most amazing way, and that God's silence has been the sign of the answer. If we always want to be able to point to something and say, "This is the way God answered my prayer," God cannot trust us yet with His silence.

Clumps of palmetto trees flew past my window as I slurped the last of my latte. I knew in my heart that the good Lord had answered my prayer, although I knew not how. Someday I will know, but even if I never do it is enough to know that He hears and loves me.

Nothing Much Happened at Work Today

2009-03-15T16:23:00.004-04:00

Baseball is a lot like life. You wake up one morning. Eat your oatmeal. Drink your coffee. Start the cross-word puzzle. Shave, then go to work. 15 minutes on the bike. Do a little stretching and head out to the field. Should be a slow day. The coordinator stops you on the way out the door.

"You'll be going with the big league team on Monday to Fort Myers. They need you as back-up in the bullpen."

Hmmm...good to know.

"Other than that, Honey, nothing much happened at work today."

Tomorrow we'll be in Ft. Myers. Today, we are going to the beach, eating roast beef for dinner, and getting locked out of the house by our two year old. (Ask me about that later.) All run of the mill sort of stuff.

This run of the mill little family is thanking and praising our gracious heavenly Father for the wonderful opportunity Josh has to play with the big league team tomorrow. The game will be at 1 pm EST, so 10 AM AZT.

Please join us in praying that if God sees fit, Josh will have the opportunity to pitch, that he goes out with confidence and strength, that the Lord would grant him great success in his labor, and that his work would be an offering of excellence and a sacrifice of praise to our gracious savior Jesus Christ, for it is He alone who has given Josh this ability and brought him to this place.

If you want to follow the game, the box score will be updated live on the Orioles' webpage. For those of you whose lives do not revolve around baseball, I'll try to post a quick update tomorrow night.

Thank you for your prayers!

Lock and Key

2009-03-06T14:43:00.006-05:00

The sinking in my stomach squelched my exercise induced euphoria. McKenzie and I were standing at the door of our "villa" ready for a cool drink and a snack. Holding the screen door open for McKenzie and Baby Doll, I reached to unlock the door. With a flash, the full revelation dawned glaringly upon me. I had the keys. They just weren't the right ones.

Unbelievable. I am only six days into the season...scratch that...six days into spring training and I managed to lock myself out of the house. Apparently I'm moving up in the world of goof-ball stunts. The last two seasons I locked the baby and the keys in the car. This time, I had the baby and the keys, they just didn't have the courtesy to be the right ones and instead of excluding myself from the car, I decided to try the house. Granted, I didn't have to endure the embarrassment of calling AAA from the player parking lots of two different ball fields, breaking the door handle off a rental car in mindless hysteria or setting the car alarm off right behind the bullpen where my sweetly oblivious husband sat during the game while the locksmith pried open the car door.

This time, we were merely relegated to walk around the neighborhood for an hour, after having already completed our CrossFit routine of pushing the jogging stoller 1/4 mile and doing 15 push-ups...8 times. This unplanned extensive fitness regime was followed by a relaxing 45 minutes on the porch waiting for Josh to get home from work. From the point of revelation 'til we reentered our abode, it was a grand two hours. The whole time I was kicking myself for not even bringing my wallet. What self-respecting jogging Mama does not bring her wallet on her morning run? Not only was I exiled from the house, I was completely unable to indulge in the somewhat soothing pastime of grocery shopping, the only genre which I can justify as absolutely necessary. I was completely stripped of all avenues of diversion.

There is a certain pleasure though in sitting in the shade watching trees blow, unable to do a thing in the world except think and pray and savor each bite of the artfully served dessert the Lord so kindly gave me. A sweet, juicy dish of humble pie is always good for the soul, but I truly hope that the good Lord was duly amused by my performance and does not have any more such surprise servings on the menu in the near future; at least not of the lock and key variety.