Tales of a Hopeless Romantic: Day Three

This is really silly. Why did I agree to taking away all my favorite movies when I'm feeling sick? Being a frail little thing where your best dressed outfit is your vellore pants and favorite band t-shirt, seriously reminds me that I am at the hand of God's mercy everyday.

As for my "challenge", yesterday I did end up watching "Becoming Jane". I forgot I told a friend I would have her over to watch it. I didn't think it was really breaking my rules because it doesn't end happily under my definition of "yay!". I assume that's what I will be watching from now on: sad movies or "Elf".

For now, I will sleep, sleep, and more sleep. I will drink tea, tea, and more coffee. I eat cough drops and Mucinex like candy, BUT! I will get better no doubt. Despite the lulling headache and sniffles, I'm feeling practically perfect to fly down to Dallas to visit my sister. Yep, I'm fine.

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Tucker's Birth Story

Tucker Jason Rhys was born on October 30th, 2023 at 3:18pm in the afternoon though I say his birth story started four months earlier in June. In June we were packing up our family and lives in Africa to come back to America for a year. With two small kids and me being six month pregnant, Steven and I still thought it would be worth the effort to stop in Paris for a layover and do a couple Frenchy things like eat a croissant and see the Eiffel Tower. It’s a “perk” of the job I tell myself—every flight path inevitably goes through Europe. We booked tickets that took us through Paris and then onto America. After booking everything we hit a snag—Farrah’s passport was set to expire in September and apparently France requires three months of validity left on a US passport before giving a visa to visit their country. She only had two months left before she needed to renew hers. (I'm getting to the birth, I promise…) Up until that last week on our island as we were packing our bags ...

Alabaster Flask

What a privilege to have something so valuable to my heart that its very surrender is seen as the utmost form of worship. Abraham had Isaac. Hannah had her son. The sinful woman had the alabaster flask. The Father had the Son, and the Son had His very life. How grateful am I to have been given something so dear, very dear, to my heart that I may surrender it as worship to God. Maybe a few tears as well. "Now when Jesus was at Bethany in the house of Simon the leper, a woman came up to him with an alabaster flask of very expensive ointment, and she poured it on his head as he reclined at table. And when the disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying, 'Why this waste? For this could have been sold for a large sum and given to the poor.' But Jesus, aware of this, said to them, 'Why do you trouble the woman? For she has done a beautiful thing to me.'"--Matthew 26:6-10

In Case You Were Curious

The feat of writing a post and explanation for what happened this past weekend has kept me from even attempting it for some days now. How do you describe miracles but not as to cheapen the treasure of their testimony? First I must begin to explain who this man Steven is, and who he someday will be. Skeptical, I have been for some years now which is why I categorize his existence as a miracle. He is strong. Meek. Authoritative in speech, and yet the most gentle of men. He hates all the usual things like Wal-Mart and loves all the usual authors like G.K. Chesterton. His brokenness before the Lord was what set him apart from the crowd for me. I honor this man with words of encouragement. "Steven, you are dearly loved and anointed by Jesus. Not because you have done great things for Him, but because your heart longs to make Him the focus. You know He is good even in the desert seasons. You have chosen Jesus. You have a ...

Here's my heart, Lord, take and seal it

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