Of Broken Hearts and Broccoli

Hello, friends!

First, please let me humbly thank you all for your precious prayers on my behalf, as well as my family, and the families of those who have recently lost loved ones. I have felt a strengthening that is unususual for me in these situations, and I am confident that the ear of the Lord has been bent for me during this time. He listens, dear ones, and while He may not change our course, He most certainly carries us through, though the wind whips around us in a frenzy.

So, thank you, for reading, listening, and meeting with Him on my behalf. I treasure you.

Now, let's laugh, shall we?

Wonderfully enough, I have two funnies to share with you today!

Wednesday evening, as our ninety minute drive home turned into two and a half hours due to an accident on the freeway, and a time-consuming yet nutritionally necessary visit to Taco Bell, Kevin and I began to discuss which hymns we would like sung at our funerals. (I know, but it's where we are right now!) The boys were listening to "Adventures in Odyssey" in the back of the van, so we did not know they could hear us.

Kevin said, "It doesn't matter which hymns you want sung at your funeral because I'm going to go first, anyway."

"You are not!" I shot back.

Corban piped up from the back seat, "Maybe I should tell you my favorite hymns so you'll know what to sing at my funeral!"

I was quiet for a moment, then answered, "Cor, I REALLY don't want to think about that!"

He asked why, and I said, "I'm not strong enough - I don't think I could handle it."

"Mama?" Micah gently offered. "What about your veggies? They'll make you strong enough!"

If only, darling. If broccoli could prevent a broken heart, I would begin feasting on it right now. Fortunately for me, it can't. 'Cause broccoli is icky. (But don't tell my kids!)

And tonight, as I prepared dinner, I put the apron on Eliana that her daddy bought her before she could even sit up. It's a precious little denim and gingham design, and still big enough that I looped the neck-strap around her twice, and folded the waist up before I tied it. (Can I just say that my most favorite thing is the way the belt ties so that it makes her little dress puff out over her bottom as if she's wearing a bustle? And so she is - it's called a diaper!)

Anyway, Corban came in from outside, and when he saw her, he dropped to his knees in front of her, put his hands on her shoulders, and said, "Oh, my dear, how beautiful you look!"

Melt, melt, drip, drip.

Have a wonderful weekend!