Please Pray for Sarah (and Patrick and Bobby)

Sarah, the wife of a dear friend of mine, has recently been diagnosed with cancer. Please pray for Sarah and the family through this time. Patrick has been updating Sarah's progress here.

On The Blessing of My Wife

With each passing day, I am more convinced of a simple truth: there is no more tangible evidence of God's grace in my life than is found in my wife and my girls. Thursday marked the 5 year anniversary of my first date with Abby, and it doesn't take much looking back to understand how God has used her to transform my life. I met her when I was far from the man God wanted to me to be, and if I were to define what I "deserved" at that time in my life, it certainly wasn't her. And while I'm still catching up on lost time when it comes to my relationship with God, it was without a doubt the appearance of this amazing woman which saved me in ways I'm sure I'll never fully know. I'm sorry if that sounds a tad melodramatic, but I know it's true. I also know I cannot fully describe how blessed I feel, but I'll make a brief, if insufficient, attempt.

There is a part of my day that has become my favorite, and I hesitate to share it simply because it is so simple. We live in a home with a detached garage, one that is behind the house, on an alley. We park our cars in the garage, and walk through the back yard to the back door, through which is our kitchen. Every day after work, I call home when I'm on my way (if Abby doesn't call me first, wondering where I am). Most days, I'll talk to Annie to ask how her nap was or to get her version of whatever story Abby has just told me. Annie will ask if I'm on my way, and I know that she will be waiting at the back window. When I finally do get home, unless I've taken too long, she will be standing there, on a chair, watching for me to emerge into the back yard. It is this moment that has become my favorite. It's the silhouette of a little girl standing on a chair, first looking intently, then jumping up and down as I approach. She is so adamant about making sure the chair is out of the way by the time I reach the house so I can come in ASAP.

I mention this scene not just because it is a personal "moment" I spend with my daughter, but because it speaks to how much I've been given, especially in the person of my wife. As I make my way up the walk on those days, I get to step into a great life, one made possible by all that Abby does. Abby spends the long and exhausting day with the girls, telling Annie "no" for the 1000th time, knowing for the 1001st time that Annie will ignore her warning, changing diapers, potty training, cleaning spit-up (at least a 20 time an hour job with our babies), stepping over toys, stepping on toys, picking up a crying two- year old who cannot seem to not trip over toys, dealing with said two-year old's ever-developing sense of entitlement, making lunches and snacks, dealing with two-year old who requested peas but now acts as if said peas are poisoned, coordinating naps, dealing with 3-month old who rolls so much in bed that she seems to be training for an Olympic event, hauling 2 girls and 3 bags in and out of the car for the simplest trip to the store or grandmommy's or a play date, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc, etc. --

Abby does all this and more, and I get to come home and see an little girl jump up and down because she is so happy to see her dad. I get to come into the house and play Memory and Candyland. I get to build towers out of Mega Blocks, and play hide and seek, and I get to hear her giggle uncontrollably when I jump out of the kitchen and chase her into the living room. I get to read books about furry red monsters, and watch videos about talking trains. I get to hold a beautiful baby girl and watch her smile as she recognizes my face. I get to pray with them and sing songs with them and talk about all of the fun things that they did that day. I get to do all of fun stuff that Abby never really got to do, or at least I'm sure could not really enjoy, because she was too busy taking care of us all.

It's a small example of how blessed I am to have her in my life. Thanks for all you are for us, Abby.

On Playing the Piano with Kosuke

Just wanted to post this short video of Annie having a great time with her Uncle Kosuke.

On Happy Birthday to Mamaw

We hosted my my mom's birthday party here yesterday, and Annie sang Happy Birthday to Mamaw at least 20 times. Mamaw didn't seem to mind. Click below for a sample of what we were blessed with the entire evening.

On Becoming a New Yorker

I have to share the following text message I received from my Best Good Friend J.T., who recently moved from Louisville to NYC:

There is a dude sitting beside me freestyle rapping at the top of his lungs while we wait for the bus and I'm not at all alarmed or surprised. I guess I'm a New Yorker."

Congratulations my Friend!

(P.S. I'm fairly certain that the guy in the rap suit is Patrick Dempsey. Click to enlarge to see for yourself.)

On The Gambler Look-alike Website.

I am sitting in a cubicle in my office building, it's 12:42 a.m., and I'm printing and assembling a 7000 page document which, if the planets align and my poor workhorse of printer does not melt into an inky heap upon my desk, will be well on its way to the FDA this time tomorrow. As I sit here, inhaling ink particles and nursing paper cuts, I'm amazed at the power of the computer. I realize the groundbreaking nature of that statement, but it's so true I think it needs to be stated more often. Think about it: Here am I, in an office building in Louisville, KY, and at my fingertips I have access to nearly limitless resources of information and tools of communication. If I so chose, I could read virtually any published book, or I could publish my own. There isn't a fact or factoid which I could not track down. Poetry, works of art, biography, scientific theory, great speeches and lectures, history, geography, theology, breaking and archived news -- it's all there, in a near instant. I could track down old friends or make myself available to be found. I can see live pictures from some distant waterfall, book and plan a trip to swim beneath that waterfall, and order the clothes which I'll wear and the books I'll read on my trip and have them sitting on my back porch within 24 hours. (In the interest of full disclosure, a waterfall would probably not be my first destination of choice, but it seems exotic.) A window for a high quality scan of a Da Vinci masterpiece, one for Shakespeare, one for the Drudge Report, another for Al Mohler's blog, all no more than four clicks away. It's available, it's easy and it's fast.

Yet, with all of the potential and wonder and power that the Internet age brings, why, oh why, do I find myself spending so much energy and time perusing sites like this:

http://www.menwholooklikekennyrogers.com/

Why is the power of instant communication most fascinating and useful for the passage of time when it allows me to enjoy Country Music Legend Look-alikes? Perhaps it's the lack of sleep or the particles of toner attaching themselves to my frontal lobe, or maybe it's even the harsh fluorescent, prison-style lighting, but I submit that it doesn't get much better than a site dedicated to something as universally identifiable as people who bear varying degrees of resemblance to The Gambler!

P.S. After further review of the Kenny Rogers Doppelganger site, I've concluded it probably is the tonor poisoning talking, and I would choose to peruse almost anything else over a faux-Kenny gallery, but it's still a pretty good idea!