It was the eleventh anniversary of the day my husband came walking towards me, clad in a white golf shirt and pressed black slacks, hand extended to shake my own, huge smile lighting up that darling face. My life changed forever.
I remember it like it was yesterday. Historically significant for Chris too, seeing as how that's probably the last time he's had ironed pants.
May 1 is also the day THAT RAT OSAMA UP AND GOT HIMSELF KILLED. I'm pretty much not altogether unhappy about this news. I don't know if I can go so far as to say I'm celebratory, seeing as how I know this man's soul is, has been, and always will be, separated from God. For that, I am profoundly sorrowful. But I am also profoundly glad he is no longer walking the surface of our planet, breathing our air, drinking our water, watching our sunsets, and causing immeasurable amounts of pain to thousands and thousands of people. And maybe, just maybe, the inalterable impact he made on the landscape of so many people's hearts and souls may now be just a tiny bit redeemed by the fact that this monster ceases to exist, and can no longer continue to plot the demise of freedom, Christianity, and the west.
I'm not bitter or anything. I'm just sayin'.
Another milestone from this weekend, April 29th marked the one-year anniversary of my blog. A whole year. Which, while this seems like the absolute longest year of my life, has also passed by remarkably fast. My little tiny baby girl has suddenly become a person, talking up a storm and telling me what to do. My oldest, who has always told me what to do, can now do so with excruciating clarity and eloquence. And although this year has brought our family unfathomable losses, God has not only upheld us, but revealed Himself to us in astonishing ways.
For that, I am peaceful and hopeful.
Chris and I always get excited when we say a sentence or combination of words we wonder has ever before been uttered in the human language. Like, "Let me balance the Sound Warehouse budget, rinse the drywall out of my hair, and I'll be ready for dinner." Or how about what he told me on Friday, "Sarah, a suicidal turkey vulture dented the hood of your car". See what I mean?
Please don't get me started on the whole turkey vulture fiasco. -- Ha! Look-y there. That's another one I never thought I'd hear (say? write?).So anyway, allow me summarize all these occasions in an oddly-worded contextual axiom I'll write down today, because I'll probably never have cause to say it again: Honey, happy meet-iversary, bin Laden, enjoy your
And now, completely off topic but intended to make you smile, please enjoy some cute photos of the girls visiting Mommy at work Easter Sunday...
Sweet Caroline saying the blessing at dinner...
Making a little history of her own, Aria proudly riding her bike, finally, without falling down or giving up...
And one of my all time faves, this picture of Aria Grace on a joyride at the lake with her Best Friend Forever, Peach, both restrained (read: bungeed) to the back of the golf cart, by the designs of their fathers and unbeknownst to their mothers...
Cutest picture ever! Can't you just see those two walking down the aisle together? Someday.
In Hawai'i. Very soon. Woop!
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So how would the wedding invitations read, Aria Grace Thomas and Peach Edwards? Somebody might think Aria Grace could come up with a better-named husband, don't ya think?
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MLE