My hero

Well, it's a well-known fact that my husband is THE MAN, but he proved it once again today.

When I went in to grab a diaper for Lily, I noticed a nice crack in the ceiling.  Now, I'm not fond of this ceiling, to say the least.  And this room is the thorn in my flesh -- yet to be painted.  Ugh.  But a crack is a big deal! 

So, my husband theorized that the hail-caused hole in the roof (now fixed) led to a leak, which got the sheet rock wet, which then expanded and cracked (a week later) because it had no place else to go.  Love it. So, he developed a plan...

first came the brace to push up the sheet rock (yes, I helped) :-) 

then, he nailed up some 2x4s to the joists to hold it all in place (for now)

So, 12 hours later, everything is still as it should be, and once the sheet rock dries, he'll repair it.  Did I mention he's the MAN?!  I was extremely thankful that, in a situation that could have been scary and costly for some, he was able to quickly fix it FOR FREE.  Thank you, Lord, for a handyman-husband!

The Demo continues...

As I type, my children are somehow peacefully napping while a major ruckus goes on upstairs.  I, on the other hand, had to get out of the kitchen, fearing for my life.  I can't wait to go up and see what James has torn out today. The pile on the side of the house is growing as he continues to chunk things out the upstairs window. 

This is getting to be a familiar feeling:  we're having guests for dinner, and I'm wondering if the house will still be standing when they arrive. (see here)  HA!  Guess I need to get used to it (and trust that my man knows what he's doing!)  

Taking Cover

Well, not long after we moved here, I came to the brilliant realization that we have placed ourselves in the previous paths of several major tornadoes.  Gotta love this little town. 

We got our first glimpse of the fun on Monday night as the storms rolled through the metro. Thanks to Gary streaming live online (and a couple of phone calls from my mom), I had time to get everything prepared. I definitely have a different mindset than I used to when it was just me.  The thought of being completely responsible for three little ones is a bit daunting - and requires a little more preparation. 

Charis decided that she needed her umbrella to prepare for the rain and did a really good job of standing with it RIGHT in the way while I was rushing around throwing anything and everything into the bathroom. When all was said and done, we had a mattress, a quilt, towels, 2 pillows, sippy cups, radio, phone, flashlight, granola bars, 3 pacis, and helmets. 

The girls were not having fun when we climbed in the bathtub (neither was I).  They did a really good job of screaming the loudest just as Gary would give exact intersections on the radio.  Helpful. :-)  No, seriously, I can't blame them for being a little freaked out.  They did calm a little when I offered granola bars through the front of their motorcycle helmets. 

The whole time I'm thinking, "I need a picture of this." Well, I was also thinking, "I think I'm gonna pass out."  And then there was, "Maybe I should just laugh." (which I did at one point) And finally, we arrived at, "Okay, Lord, You're in control. We trust You." 

Except for some fun holes in our roof from the GIANT hail, we were spared other damage.  The car was in the garage, so no broken windows -- unlike every car that was outside on our block.  Looks like someone drove through and shot out all the windows with a shotgun.  Weird. 

Dad and Mom arrived soon after it passed and helped with the decompressing.  Dane and Lisa also ran over to check on us. So glad to have family so close.  And speaking of, I think I'll plan ahead a little better next time -- the Browns' cellar is only a 7-minute drive away.  Don't want to visit the tub again any time soon. 

Oh, to think that storm season is just beginning...

The Birds of Bellaire

Well, apparently word has gotten out that our house is no longer home to cats.  And the birds are celebrating by making a grand return to the Promised Land.  At least, that's what it seems like.  First, when spring sprang, we dealt with the creepy robins who tapped on our windows for hours every morning.  Then, a bird lost her life via the garage door a couple of weeks ago.  It should be mentioned that this bird (and a few others, I think) had taken up residence in between the brick and sheet rock on the side of our house). Yes, the nest is still there, and, no, it's not currently high on the priority list. 

In the latest development, apparently, the storms compelled a bird to take refuge in our WALLS. I'm pretty sure the thing must have gotten in an uncovered vent in the soffit, but it ended up in our "master bathroom" wall, pecking away at a small hole in the sheet rock.  It was also violently flapping its wings.  Our resident bird whisperer/handyman/bravest man alive (James) shut himself in the bathroom with a drill, gloves, and a blanket.  He removed the sheet rock, and the dumb bird was stuck down in the wall.  So, James grabbed it, dubbing it a "squirmy little sucker."  (Charis has made that catch-phrase a part of her vocabulary. Great.) 

I'm starting to be a little afraid of the birds.  Just waiting for what's next...

Zoo Fun!

We took advantage of James' schedule to take our first trip of the year to the zoo!  We were excited to see the Children's Zoo, but as it turns out, so were three gazillion other kids. SO, we did not wait in line for the exhibits, but decided to take an overview approach.  All Charis really cared about seeing were the monkeys, the baby giraffe, and the playground.  That's my girl...

We did get to see the new giraffe -- Charis could tell you her name.  I LOVE giraffes, so I guess I, too, was pretty excited to see this 7-foot "baby!" 

I took this flamingo pic for my mom. I remember a time in 7th(?) grade when we were shopping for a new shirt.  I wanted gray -- my mom said I looked like a shark.   (BTW, gray or grey? Did you know they're both acceptable? odd...)  Anyway, I told her the pink made me look like a flamingo -- at least this is how I remember the story. I acknowledge that the details are a bit sketchy in my brain.  All I know is that I ended up with a pink shirt...

Of course, we ended the day at the playground. Sweet Gwyn could swing for hours. And, praise the Lord, she avoided the pile of you-know-what that someone or something had left at the top of the slide. On a normal day, that would have been in her mouth.

Big Day (well, the biggest in a while)

James went crazy today, tearing out sheet rock and studs and tile and cabinets and sinks and counters. Awesome.  And what did we girls do?  Socialize, nap, and play.  Sounds like the perfect day. 

First up was the kitchen faucet.  After scouring the computer files, I am devastated to learn that I do not have a picture of the original faucet assembly.  Its most ridiculous crowning feature was the (non-functioning) sprayer right in the middle of the two sinks -- this meant you had to ram the faucet over the sprayer each time you moved from sink to sink.  Brilliant.  This was all fitting considering it was attached to the dumbest sink ever designed. This corner sink may be the death of me.  And I'm glad we captured it on "film" here.  Anyway, when James went to just remove the sprayer, we realized the problem was the valve, and he decided to just replace the whole fixture with one he salvaged from upstairs. That's right, the bathtub upstairs (that just got torn out) had a KITCHEN faucet attached.  Nice.  So today, we returned it to its original use, and I must say, I'm quite pleased. 

He then tore out the rest of the bathroom upstairs and placed it in our backyard.  Be assured, it is all now in the barn, but the pictures above demonstrate how closely we sometimes approach white-trashiness. Now if we could just move this to the front yard and add a car on blocks...

Then it was on to walls. For about 2 hours, the girls and I enjoyed the sounds of tile, sheet rock, and pipes raining down from the second story window.  That's one way to speed up the cleaning out process!   

looking from the top of the stairs

former kitchenette in foreground, looking into the old bathroom

When all was said and done, it was a productive day. I even made fresh chocolate-chip cookies for the handyman. What a lucky guy he is.  I was also thrilled to learn he wore one of two good pairs of jeans for this project today.  "I didn't think I was going to keep going."  :-)  They're just fine, by the way.

A (small) Step of Obedience

Recently, I've been in several "discussions" and heard many teach about the poor and about the Church's response and responsibility to them.  While I could spend days discussing the ins and outs of this, the principle that cannot be denied is this: Jesus called us as Christians -- not the government, but don't get me started -- to serve the poor, the orphan, the widow.  I must say that something that bothers me when Christians speak about helping the poor is that they rarely talk about WHY we help the poor.  I believe we do not give to the poor to merely meet their physical needs and thus "fulfill" that item on our To-Do list.   We can't separate their spiritual needs from their physical condition!  While a meal or clothing is incredibly helpful, and often a first step of obedience to Christ's command, what they need most is JESUS Himself.

With all of this discussion going on, I've been challenged to not only discuss, but OBEY.  I think our knee-jerk reaction is to shy away from the extremists with whom we disagree, but I want to discover BIBLICALLY what I am supposed to be doing. 

Enter Hungry Man on the corner of I-240 and Western.  We make a right turn here at least 3 times a week -- on our way to CHURCH no less -- and we frequently exchange waves and smiles with the man.  But I always have that pang of guilt(?) when I drive away having only smiled.  His sign says he's hungry, and let's just be honest here, I don't believe him.  For as long as I can remember, my first response to a homeless person has been, "Yeah, right."  I immediately question his integrity, wonder how many people have been suckered in today by his act, etc.  Well, I'm discovering that, while I should be wise with the resources God has entrusted to me, it should be my response to (wisely) GIVE with compassion.  Does my heart break for the man who has been reduced to standing on a street corner begging for food?  And more than that, do I see his SOUL? 

So, since he's asking for food, and because I believe giving cash does not fall under the "Give Wisely" category, I'm going to try something new.  Today, I got out breakfast bars and granola bars and packaged them with a gospel tract in a brown lunch bag.  I'm going to keep a few in my car, ready to hand out the window when I feel it's needed.  I am going to be the one who may possibly be suckered in, and that thought drives me nuts, but MY heart is the issue here.

And I hope that is the heart that comes across in what I've shared.  I say all this only to encourage others to obey -- in whatever way the Lord directs.  This is one SMALL step forward on the long journey of learning to be a disciple, and how grateful I am for the Lord's patience with me.  AND for providing precious companions to walk before and beside me.  To HIM be the glory!  That ALL may hear!

UPDATE:  I made these, and the next FIVE trips to church, our man wasn't there. Also, I had not seen another person ANYWHERE. Finally, on our sixth trip, the man was on the corner, and I had the opportunity to give him the bag, a smile, and a "God Bless You."  He told me that I was beautiful and thanked me, and I drove on.  And I have yet to see him, or another person, again...