• Calling on God.

    Dear God,

    First of all I wanted to thank you. Thank you for listening to me, for your patience with me, and for all of your gifts given for me. Sometimes the whole “God loves me” thing seems a little abstract, but I guess that’s partly why we go to church: to make it a little less abstract. Oh dear Lord that sounds a little over simplified now that I can read it on the screen!

    What I really wanted to say is that some things have been hard lately. Not world class hard; no one is dying, no one is suffering from great physical pain, and no one is suffering these problems in isolation. No, it’s one of those medium grade problems; the kind that lingers for months. It’s the kind that you can’t really do anything about. It’s the kind you just have to wait out, and it’s eating away at me. Part of me feels ashamed for asking for your help. I feel like my problems are not worthy of your attention. Part of that may be my self esteem talking. But on the flip side, it seems like my problems are just a tiny blip on the radar of trouble; and there’s a wide swath of vast and profound suffering that makes my own seem insignificant by comparison. Oh well, I didn’t really want to talk about my personal short comings, so I’ll try and get to the point. This whole Waiting for a Miscarriage thing is really getting old. Every morning I am excited by the sight of my widening wife. It’s a sight that gives me hope, a sight that makes me dream about possibilities. And that’s the problem. I feel like I can’t afford that much excitement. It feels buying things left and right on credit, but with an insecure job. If we have another miscarriage then the bill will come due and I won’t have enough in the bank to cover it.

    I really want to ask you to make everything OK. Make our unborn kids healthy. Make my wife more at ease. Help my daughter accept it all with grace. At the same time I don’t want to think of this episode in our lives into a referendum on our faith. I am leery of the trap that “if we pray enough and ‘believe’ enough then everything will work out.” I know in my heart that things don’t quite work that way. Bad things happen to good people (assuming of course that we are good people – I hope). There is not necessarily any good associated with it… it just sucks and we move on. No, what I want is what I think you can give. Give us the strength to get through it, good or bad. Regardless of the outcome, help us to remember everything that we do have: our family, our friends, our jobs, our love, your love.

    Please let that be enough.

    Amen.

  • Oh, not this again.

    What fiscal quarter would be complete without a discussion about money. It just so happens that we got ours out of the way early this time. It is, after all, the start of the new fiscal quarter.

    Cheryl wants to get a van. Mind you, we’re right there in the fiscal margin as it is. The last thing in the world we need right now, fiscally speaking (besides two more kids in day care), is a bigger car payment. The van talk hasn’t gotten serious yet, but that’s of little comfort. Major purchase talk takes off like nobody’s business when it reaches a critical mass, a point from which we may not be all that far. Lord, grant me the strength to say “no.” Then again, the secret may be avoiding The Showroom. One may fairly speculate about pheromones hidden in that “new car smell.” Maybe this is obvious to you, but I’m a little slow on the uptake… could it be that this is the real reason dealerships are in the “service” game? Maybe it’s not because servicing cars is profitable in and of itself, but because it brings people through the showroom on a periodic basis. I can see the research paper now… “A comparison of new car buying habits between those tied to the dealership for service and those with independent mechanics.” I’ll bet there’s even grant money available!

    Oh, to be suitably qualified or motivated. Then again, maybe it’s not such
    good idea.

  • Stepping out of character.

    This was the weekend that I blew up my perspective of self. I spent a good chunk of Saturday pressure washing the driveway and back patio. For a few hours I morphed into someone who takes pride in outward appearances. A word of warning to those of you who may live in mildew prone areas… there is a point at which mildew won’t easily come off a concrete slab if left on too long. I have come to this conclusion without using good scientific methodology, so it is a bit suspect. None the less, we let it go for about six years (prior to Saturday’s cleaning) and we still have a driveway that Cheryl won’t let Beth walk barefoot on. Pity our poor Beth, she is the victim in this story.