If there is better way to spend Mother’s Day than spending all day making an elaborate meal for your wife, and having her get immediately and violently ill after eating it, I do not know what it is.
Last night the trashbag was too heavy for my young son, so he asked me to help him carry it out to the bin. On the way we passed the wading pool. It caught my eye because there were two balloon people bandits floating in it–balloons wearing swim goggles and bandannas, with faces marked on. Apparently my girls had been having fun.
My son saw me looking at it. “We played with God in the pool,” he said. (more…)
Overheard from a missionary:
Our families are worth the world to us.
We are worth the world to God.
When you hurt your rib diving you still managed to catch the ball. Your son was there to see you.
Your assay in smoking a turkey worked out.
At the meal, your son gives you a world-class straight line.
Your wife’s hair is up and elegant. Her eyes sparkle.
You feel that God is with you.
You have a thankful, brimming heart.