Nibblets

I love to read. It is my form of T.V. or watching a movie. I have in my possession now William P. Young's The Shack. From all accounts it is good, really good. It will make me struggle with God and about God and look at hard things in me while still being an entertaining work of fiction. And, yet, I haven't started it. I do this--hover around a book, enjoying the anticipation, feeling a little nervous about getting to know it, knowing that all too soon I will have finished it. Sort of a whirlwind romance. Or a one-night stand. The romance sounds better.

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I'm going on vacation in two days. I'm not taking my family. I am so excited and at the same time, vaguely guilty. This is mom guilt, true to form. Four days in California visiting friends without the kids? How selfish of me! When my older daughter asked me why she couldn't come on the airplane with me, what I thought was, "Because mommy needs a break from whining, crying, bottom wiping, sharing the bed with wiggly kids and being in charge of the location of every shoe, special fork, cheap McDonald's toy, and blankie in the house. Mommy needs to remember her first name isn't MAMA and that she is a person all by herself under the toddler crust." I think I said something a little more gentle than that, but I can't be sure.

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I'm getting a little tired of my girls' Children's Bibles. They condense scripture down to a poem or nice little point. They leave out certain stories for some reason but include others. The characters in the pictures all look sort of white--not really what I think of as Jews from the middle east. So, tonight I read them John 1 from The Message (which I'm sure some would say is the same kind of watered-down scripture, only for adults. To which I say "Whatever!"). I really like The Message because, after reading scripture my whole life, I often skip ahead and miss the point of what I'm reading. Reading it in contemporary language often causes me to say, "What? Oh, yeah. I hadn't noticed that." "He came to his own people, but they didn't want him. But whoever did want him, who believed he was who he claimed and would do what he said, He made to be their true selves, their child-of-God selves." (somewhere around vs 12). I stuttered (mentally) over "made to be their true selves". Oh yeah, God designed me to be in relationship with him. Until I did that, I wasn't my true self. Pretty cool. The girls were fairly squirrelly, but no more than average. We'll see how chapter two goes...

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I really do know how to make correct paragraph breaks. For some reason I don't feel like using them tonight. Maybe the ideas are just flowing from me. Or maybe I'm lazy.

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Finally, I'm pregnant again. :) Like how I put that at the end? It is to see who is reading all the way through. Details: 8 weeks along, due on Groundhog's Day, feeling fine albeit a bit distracted with the rest of life, very happy about it. I'm sure it will consume me in no time and I'll blog lots around it. For now, it helps to have the girls talking into my belly button to the baby every morning (they think it is his/her window to see and hear). They remind me that there is a new person in there for me to get to know. God is good.