Toad the Wet Sprocket - 20250803 - TTWS Live Setlist

Venue: The Factory 

City: Chesterfield, MO 

Setlist

1. Windmills 

2. Something's Always Wrong 

3. Butterflies 

4. Inside

5. Transient Whales 

6. Nanci

7. California Wasted 

8. All I Want 

9. Good Intentions 

10. Rings

11. Fly From Heaven 

12. Crowing 

13. Brother 

14. The Moment 

15. Nightingale Song 

16. Drum Solo Breakdown (Carl and Dean)

17. Crazy Life 

18. Fall Down 

- encore - 

19. Walk on the Ocean

On Cecil the Lion and the Resulting Outrage

Recently, my social media feeds have exploded with people expressing outrage and deep sadness over the killing of Cecil the lion. You might be led to think that they were best friends with this beast, although none of these people have ever met or scene Cecil in person, as he lived on the other side of the planet.  But they have seen pictures and videos of him and I can tell you that they appear to have been very deeply impacted by the story of his demise. Petitions! Blog posts! Status Updates! Exclamation Points!!!!

Meanwhile, in our own little corner of the planet, we are completely passive about the premeditated slaughter of millions of innocent humans. We have pictures and videos of these little babies in the womb, yet do not raise our voices to protect them. To speak critically of the immoral practice of abortion is not the current trending topic on the web, and has not been for quite some time. I wonder where the outrage is over the 1 human life that is purposefully ended in utero every 30 seconds in America. Every day that passes on the calendar is another 2,899 people that will never breathe their first breath in the Land of the Free. Over 1 million babies a year are killed and yet it is an acceptable practice. (abortion clock)

If we lined up 120 lions and killed them all in 1 bloody hour, you can be sure that the entire world would demand justice. And yet, we do something far worse every hour here in the United States. 21 percent of ALL pregnancies in our country are terminated by an abortion. 1 in 5. Over 58 million Americans have been murdered in this fashion since 1973. That’s an immediate population loss of over 18%, which does not include possible future generations.  Dwell on that. These aren’t just numbers  - they are little lives that are being purposefully extinguished.

As a father of three children, I truly cannot understand how anyone who has ever stared at a live monitor feed of an ultrasound can defend this practice. How do you deny that the heartbeat that can be measured and seen at 8 weeks post conception is human? I cannot.

I have seen people express anger and outrage over the fact that this animal was hunted just for sport. I understand the emotion and do not disagree with the anger over luring a protected animal to its death. I’m all for obeying the laws that exist and protecting the creatures that have been designated as requiring that protection.

To all the people outraged in general over the hunting/raising of any animal, specifically for food: If you commit wholeheartedly to this thought and stop eating all poultry, pork, red meat, fish and their eggs then I will acknowledge that the outrage you have expressed has prompted life-altering action. To do any less would be picking and choosing what animals are more valuable than others and that doesn’t seem like a valid option to me.

To all the Christians who are outraged by the death of a lion you’ve never met, in a place you’ve never been: Please take that passion and purpose and pour it into defending the lives of the babies who are dying as a result of “choice”. Be willing to take a bold stand in the social arenas for those who do not have the ability to scream for themselves.

To all the Christians who support abortion: Please study the Bible and attempt to reconcile your stance on abortion with what God says about a person’s worth, their creation, Him physically knitting them together and, knowing them in the womb, etc. I don’t understand how the two can be reconciled. I welcome your emails and private messages to begin a 1 on 1 dialogue.

Dead lions don’t have souls and Christ didn’t come to die for them.

Let’s be more outraged about the death of millions of people in our country than that of a lion in a far off land.

Catching a Dream

Several years ago, I was invited by a friend of mine to a major league baseball game to celebrate his 40th birthday. I offered to drive us and when I arrived at his house a curious event occurred. As he was getting into the vehicle, he declared “I’ll be right back”, hopped out of the car and ran back into his house. I sat there puzzled, thinking that perhaps he had left the tickets inside. A moment later, my friend came bounding back with an old, worn baseball glove in his hands. He hopped in and exclaimed “I can’t believe I almost forgot this.”

On our way to the ballpark, my friend told me how he had always wanted to catch a ball at a game and so he always took his glove with him. He was so giddy about the prospect that I did not express to him my massive doubts that it would ever happen – the odds were heavily against it.

We settled into our seats between third base and home plate and watched as the game progressed. It occurred to me that I had not seen anyone as old as my friend with a glove at the game - ever. It also was amazing to realize that he never took the glove off his hand. He was wearing it as if he might have been in the middle of playing catch with someone and just sat down for a brief break. As the innings began to tick by, I felt a little sorry for him – this dream of catching a ball was so entrenched in him that he couldn’t remove his glove for a moment.

In the bottom of the fifth inning, a batter popped a pitch foul in our direction. Naturally, everyone in the section stood up. My friend thrust his gloved hand into the air and stood still as a statue. As I watched the arc of the ball, I realized that it was going to come fairly close to us. My friend remained cemented in his pose, as everyone around him started jumping and flailing their arms about. My friend never moved an inch beyond standing up and reaching to the sky. I will never forget standing next to my frozen friend as that baseball fell out of the sky and landed directly into his glove. It never entered my mind to try and catch it, as it was hit directly to him, a la Smalls in The Sandlot. Everyone around us cheered him and gave him high fives for catching the ball cleanly.

As we sat down in complete jubilation and bewilderment, the reality began to set in: his dream had come true and it had happened on his birthday. Suddenly, a man with a camera and an employee were at our side. They took his picture, which was then displayed on the stadium screen with the caption “Catch of the Game”. My friend was over the moon. He sat there and said “The only thing that could make this better is if someone would hit a home run”. Moments later, that happened as well. It was an unforgettable day.

Thinking back on the events of that day, I find myself naturally connecting the idea of dreams to goals. This leads me to the following questions:

How often do we dismiss people with dreams/goals that we may think are unreasonable, unreachable or impossible?

• My friend had a dream that many people have at some point in their life but few ever come close to obtaining. There are people in your life right now that are pursuing something that most people think is unreachable. You can be a resource to them – helping another person reach their goal is never a wasted endeavor.

How often do we criticize them, mock them or even hinder them as they continue to prepare for the hoped conclusion?

• My friend went back to get his glove and all I could think of were the odds being so heavily against him ever catching a ball. People want to believe in something more and are often willing to sacrifice time, energy, money or social status to try and make it a reality. You can be a source of encouragement to them - everyone needs a kind word or gesture to help motivate them.

How often do we secretly wish that they would give up on that dream/goal  because it may make us uncomfortable?

• My friend looked odd as a 40 year old man wearing a worn ball glove to the ballpark and would have fit in better without the leather on his hand. Just because their dream does not match ours does not make it any less important. You can be supportive of them in their pursuit – most likely they will support you in return. 

I am happy that my friend didn’t give up on his dream. I am glad that he continued to prepare for the moment when he could capitalize on that dream and make it a reality. I am thrilled by the fact that his dream became so much more than he had ever hoped or imagined. I am amazed by the fact that all these years later I still have such emotion tied up in having been there to see him capture the dream he had spent his lifetime chasing.

Dreams and goals are worth having and worth chasing.

What’s the dream that you are chasing right now? Grab your glove and go catch it!

--- This was originally published on LinkedIn

Lessons From Pre-School Photos

The following photos of Lainey at pre-school today reminded me of things that make life great:

A fun, comfy spot to rest

A good book to read

A friend to sit next to and read with

A friend to learn with and play with

Friends to sing and dance with

Don't be fooled.
These are very important for all of us to remember, especially for myself.

My #IceBucketChallenge

My nephew Brody challenge me to do the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge.
Lydia and Lainey wanted to do it too.   :)


Jeremy and The ALS Ice Bucket Challenge



Lydia and The ALS Ice Bucket Challenge


Lainey and The ALS Ice Bucket Challenge

Starting Over is Hard

3 weeks ago I started over.
I hadn't run since I injured myself at the end of July and the insanely cold weather finally eased up a bit, motivating me to get going. I have learned that I have to rein in myself when I start running after even a brief break, as I mentally want to run at least 3 miles each time out but my body won't like it one bit. So I got my gear on and went for a 2 mile run.

Let's just say that I huffed and puffed through both miles, finishing completely winded.

It was a slow, grueling, ugly run.
It was a start.
I ran several times that week and the next - I was starting a good pattern and hoped that my cardio would start slowly improving in the coming week or so.

Then, last week I came down with some nasty head cold thing that eliminated my ability to breath easily while sitting, let alone trying to run. So I didn't run last week.

That puts me back at ground zero (in my mind) and is quite frustrating, although it shouldn't be as I have just started running again. There isn't exactly much physical fitness to lose at this point.

For those of you who run or enjoy any other type of cardio-based activity, you understand that feeling of knowing your cardio abilities are dwindling/dying/dead. It is pleasant. In fact, it is a terrible thing.

Knowing that I am starting over as if I have never run before is a bit hard to take.
It was easier starting to run when I had never run before.
I was naive, as I believe all new runners are.
Now I know how hard it will be to get back to the shape I was in after consistently running for 2 years and it isn't pretty.
But it is motivating.

Almost exactly two years ago, I wrote a little piece about Why I Run, in which I wrote the following:

Runners realize their limitations through the repetitive motion of slamming their feet into the ground and propelling themselves forward. Runners of any skill level must deal with learning how to manage the mental as well as physical challenges that come with starting a race. To get to that line, the runner has to have determined weeks or months in advance that they are going to commit themselves to the task of purposefully wearing themselves out multiple times a week when literally nobody is looking and nobody cares.

And that is where I am.
I acknowledge my current limitations.
I have lost muscle mass, gained fat and lost my cardiovascular strength, along with my habit/pattern of running.
However, I have not lost the ability to run, therefore I can gain the rest back through hard work and diligence.

And so I begin again...
Ready to need to purchase new running shoes, adjust my playlist, reset my alarm clock and go.
I am ready to run, even if I am not quite able to yet.

Starting over is hard, but it is needed and worthwhile.

My Grandpa Walker

Last night, as I lay in bed, I found myself thinking about my grandfather, Dale Walker.
I will admit that I do not think of him nearly enough.
Yesterday was the 18th anniversary of his death.
It doesn't feel like that long ago.
Except it was.

At the time I was still living at home, attending the community college and working at Subway. I think it is fairly safe to say that I was pretty self-absorbed at that point in my life - hopefully that is not still the case.

I cannot remember much about the weeks prior to his passing, but I have vivid memories of one of the last times I saw my grandfather alive. My mother decided to go to New Athens to help around the house, as Grandpa was basically bedridden. I decided to go along with her. I remember thinking that it was such a big ordeal to me, as I had to email my teachers that day to let them know I would not be attending class - as if they cared. Looking back on it now, that seems like such a trivial thing and worthless to worry about. Thankfully, I made the right decision and hopped in the conversion van for the hour and fifteen minute trip.

When we arrived, I help Grandpa get from the bedroom to his recliner by the front door. He settled in for a period of time and seemed very quiet. After a while, I helped him walk to the bathroom. Once he was finished, I helped him move to his bed. This was the last time I ever saw my grandfather standing. As he rested in his bed, I helped him get comfortable, helped get him a drink and spent the time talking to him about what mom was helping grandma with in the kitchen.

After a couple of hours, it became readily apparent that his condition was worsening. Uncle Keith had come over and we were going to get Grandpa into the Green Escort to take to the hospital. Not having a wheelchair in the house, we resorted to grabbing one of the wooden kitchen chairs from the kitchen. We set Grandpa into the chair and then we carried him out of the front door to the car. (My recollection is that I carried the feet of the chair, but that may be incorrect.) Once we were able to get Grandpa into the passenger side and buckled in, I leaned in, kissed his forehead and told my Grandfather that I loved him. I don't know that he had the power t
o respond vocally at that point (and I do not remember him saying anything to me in return), but I could see his response in his eyes. He loved us all.

I stepped back, watched the car leave the gravel driveway past the mailbox and turn the corner onto Hanft Street. I remember thinking that I might never see him again. I do not believe I ever did. I cannot tell you what day this all occurred on, as I cannot remember how long he was at the hospital. I do not believe it could have been too long. All I know is that this is my last memory of my Grandpa Walker, aside from his funeral.

Looking back, I am incredibly glad that I had the opportunity to help my

Grandfather that day. It's not something you think of ever doing as a grandchild, and it was nothing that I would have wanted to do if you had told me ahead of time what it would entail. Yet, in the moment, it was the natural thing to do, the right thing to do. I do not believe that i will never forget that day. I have forgotten some of the details. Perhaps time has altered my memory of the timing of that visit. However, I know without a doubt that my Grandfather knew that I loved him - as I had shown it in action and through my words. That's a very special thing for me to know without a doubt.

Thinking back, even now, I still feel like crying over the loss of my Grandfather.

He wasn't a giant of a man.
He was tall and thin.
He wasn't boisterous and loud.
He was a quiet man.
He loved gardening and didn't get too upset when we played in his corn.
He loved taking his grand-kids wagon rides behind his lawn tractor.
He kept the fridge in the garage stocked with Vess soda, because he loved his grand-kids.
He lived a fairly simple life and that was good enough.

It's hard to believe that I have now lived more than half of my life without Grandpa Walker in it.

I'd like to think that my love for Christmas time, Christmas lights and grilling comes, in some degree, from him.
I hope that he'd be happy with who I have become - I'd like to think so.

Grandpa Walker - you are loved and missed.

Thanksgiving Turkey Dance 2013

Ladies and gentlemen, I proudly present the 2013 rendition of the world famous Turkey Dance!




This is a Walker family tradition.
The routine varies slightly year to year and the turkey gets a little larger each year.
Happy Thanksgiving!

It's Good to Give Thanks

Lydia Sings "It's Good to Give Thanks"

Lydia sang this song with her pre-school classmates to start Zion Lutheran's Saturday evening service tonight. Five years ago at basically the same time Lisa and I were eating mostaccioli at Sarah and Matt's house, watched Iron Man and drove the whole way home talking about how the baby inside was going crazy and flipping all around. We thought we might be headed to the hospital that night. Lisa had contractions basically all night and the next day we finally made our way to the hospital (via a trip to Sam's and then the doctor's office).

It is good to give thanks.
I am thankful to God for this wonderful little girl who is growing up so quickly...

A Life Well Lived - Scarlett

This morning I stopped in to the visitation of a friend who passed away last week. I am thankful I found out it in time to attend as I saw many of her family, who are friends of mine as well, that I haven't seen in over 6 years. I visited with them briefly and answered questions about my family. In many ways it felt like a reunion of sorts, which I suppose is the way you might want a funeral to be. While there is definitely more than a hint of sorrow throughout the room, there was a kindness and love that was a great reflection of the friend we had all lost.

Scarlett O'Hara Matlock was 62 years old when she obtained her reward for a life well-lived for the glory of God. She had endured more pain and suffering than many people will ever have in their lifetime and she did it with a joy that was obviously not of this world. I saw her exhibit this joy in suffering many times. Scarlett always expressed her love for people without shame, hesitation or qualification. I was privileged enough to be able to help her move around from time to time by carrying her from her bed to a couch or chair. I was reminded today by her family of how I had helped her in this way. She was light and frail due to illness, yet full of life and a passion for God that was unmistakeable.

It's not that I had forgotten having carried her - it's just that I never attached any great amount of significance to it when I was doing it. It was something that needed to be done and I was capable of doing it, so I did it. And yet, years later, the family remembered and even introduced me as the man who carried Scarlett around the house. I am reminder that simple acts of kindness that don't cost you anything but time and a little bit of energy can mean so much more to people. I need to be cognizant of the opportunities I have presented to me to help other people.

I was told by her brother that some of Scarlett's last words were "God is Good, all the time."
Indeed He is. She was faithful to God and He is ever Faithful to her, and us.

I am thankful for having known Scarlett, as I would imagine everyone who ever met her would agree.
She made the world a brighter place - a more lovely place.I am thankful that there is no doubt that she is in the presence of God, where she most longed to be. Her suffering is over. Her joy is complete.

Oh, that my life would more closely resemble hers.

Lord help me learn to love others and endure hardship in a way that brings glory and praise to you.

Photos: Baby Boy Ultrasound at 37 weeks

With Lydia and Lainey, we never had an ultrasound this late in the pregnancy.
As Lisa said in the doctor's office, "It kind of feels like we are cheating" by getting to see him sooner.
Well, since we're going to be meeting this little guy sooner than later, I'd like to let you cheat as well.

Oh, and for those of you inquisitive types, he was estimated to be weighing 8lbs at this point and somewhere in the 39 week range - so he looks to be big and healthy.

Click on any image to see the larger size.

Update: For some reason, this post has been getting a bunch of views lately. For those of you who somehow found your way here - "Welcome!"  If you'd leave a comment as to what you were searching for that led you here, that would help ease my curiosity a bit. If you were looking for adorable pictures of my little boy at 37 weeks, then I guess you came to the right place. God is good and Marshall is still healthy and growing like a weed.   :)

Valentine's Day Recap

Valentine's Day has come and gone again.
Hopefully your day was better than this little guy's:


Our Valentine's Day was spent with me working, Lisa keeping the girls entertained with numerous Holiday activities and a night spent at home for all of us. We exchanged cards after dinner and just enjoyed being together. That seems appropriate for this day.

Photo: Lydia on 04FEB13

They grow up so quickly...

Celebration of Lights 2012

On Tuesday evening, Lisa and girls met me for dinner at Buffalo Wild Wings. After dinner we drove out to O'Fallon for the Celebration of Lights. We had never gone to this event, but had heard that the light displays are quite amazing, once you get through the long line of cars waiting to enter the park. Well, on this night it was for pedestrians only, with no vehicles allowed in the park. We waited in a line of vehicles waiting to enter a parking lot, where we finally parked at one of the churches that was running shuttles to the entrance.

As we approached the line for the buses I was certain it would take us an hour to even get on a bus. Lisa and the girls wandered over to a tent and grabbed some free hot chocolate as I held our place in line. There were three lines waiting for the buses and each bus that pulled up went to a different line to pick up passengers. The first two buses pulled up to the other groups and as we awaited the next bus for our group I heard that they were only filling the buses halfway, as the bus would then drive down the road to another church to pick up more people. I started counting people in line ahead of us and figured we were about 30th in line. I guessed that each bus could hold 60 people, so I was worried we would not be able to get on the next bus and that we would have to wait for 4 more buses.

The next bus arrived and as we walked up towards the door, the volunteer was obviously counting people. She was moving to stop me in my place when she realized that the 4 of us were together and let us pass before stopping the next person. We climbed on the bus and moved towards the back, with Lydia sitting with me and Lainey with Lisa. The girls had never been on a big bus before, so it was all very exciting to them. Our bus made its way down the street in the line of cars and then proceeded to pass the entrance of the event to get to the next location. We pulled into the other church parking lot and picked up 4 people. I admit to being a little but frustrated at this point.There's no real reason why they shouldn't have filled the bus at our pickup point, but we were on the bus so it didn't really matter.

We finally arrived at the entrance and made our way through the line to pay our entrance fee. As we walked along the road, the number of lights strung from the trees on both sides was incredible. The entire roadside was lined with trees over 20 feet tall that were all colored in lights. Periodically, there were little scenes erected by various volunteer groups. The girls particularly enjoyed the scenes with characters they recognized (Sesame Street, Angry Birds, Toy Story). About halfway through our walk the fireworks display starting. This frightened Lainey, but Lydia was absolutely mesmerized at the beginning. A few minutes into the display, there were numerous successive loud explosions which pushed Lainey over the edge and dimmed Lydia's excitement. Thankfully, the fireworks did not continue for too long and we were able to continue on.

At the point where Lydia was really getting ready to want to leave we came upon a volunteer who was handing out lollipops. Some of you may know that our girls love lollipops and get them every week as we leave church. This perfectly timed event propelled us through the rest of the walk. At this point it was past the girls normal bedtime and we knew we were pushing into dangerous meltdown territory. Near the end we came upon a line of people waiting to enter a tent to see Santa Claus. I grabbed Lydia, walked around the line, picked her up and leaned into the tent door so she could catch a glimpse of Kris Kringle. She was pretty excited about that. I didn't even bother trying to do so with Lainey because she seemed content in her stroller at that point and she is terrified of the big elf.

After that brief excursion, we ran into our friends the Lortons, who were hustling their way to the finish as well. The girls were happy to see Owen and Jackson (baby Harrison was all covered up), but it is safe to say that all the kids were beyond tired at this point. We made our way out of the entrance and opted to walk the 1/3 of a mile back to the church, instead of waiting in the long line for the bus. This proved to be a smart decision. Upon arriving back at the church, we took a restroom break before loading back into the car. This was also a wise decision.

I dropped Lisa off with the other car at BWWs and on the way home I talked to the girls about their day and the lights we had seen. We all said "Hello" to the Mid Rivers Cow and Lydia said "That cow is always dressing up different." I had the girls Christmas music playing and I was singing along with it. Shortly thereafter Lainey was quiet. I figured she might have fallen asleep. A few minutes later I realized I hadn't heard Lydia singing in a while. I peeked back to find her all slouched over across the middle of the back sleep, sound asleep. When we arrived home I carried Lydia to bed and Lisa grabbed Lainey. Lydia awoke briefly as I took her coat off, but she was exhausted. Lisa came into the room and Lydia mumbled "Night night".

Lisa and I both agree that it was a fun night, but that we had walked along the edge of meltdown several times. If either of the girls had started crying I am doubtful that our memory of the experience would be so positive, but as it turned out, we all had a wonderful time. I am not sure that we will do it again anytime soon - we might attempt to view the lights through the car next time. All in all, it was a great evening out with the family.

The Fall and God's Love

Lydia's preschool teacher has a blog that she updates every day with lots of photos and updates on what they are learning and doing. This was how today's blog began:

Proud.
Humbled.
Blessed beyond measure.

"Train up a child in the way he should go; even when he is old he will not depart from it." - Proverbs 22:6

An Evening Well Spent

This past week, the temperatures in St. Louis dropped and it felt like fall was upon us. Saturday night we returned home from a day trip to visit Lisa's grandparents in Greenville, IL, which is where we held our wedding one week shy of 8 years ago. This was one of those trips where the time spent with the relatives is wonderful, but the hour plus car ride there and back proved exhausting, as our girls just seemed to be unsettled and wanting to whine and argue a lot.

We enjoyed dinner of grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup on the patio in our backyard and then I lit the fire pit for the first time this season and the first time at the new house. We roasted some marshmallows with the girls and made s'mores, and then proceeded to bath-time and bedtime for the girls.

Lisa and I returned to the fire pit and sat around it for an hour, as the small fire slowly died. I spent most of the time talking, as Lisa had asked me a question that I evidently had more to say about then I would have guessed. So there we sat, wrapped in blankets in our chairs, holding hands and enjoying our environment and one another's company until the embers began to fade and the temperature finally forced us inside.

It's an extreme understatement to say that we have been blessed.
We have two beautiful, healthy little girls that bring so much joy into our lives, as well as to others.
We enjoy our time with both of our families and live close to both sides that it is convenient.
We live in a wonderful home that we are thrilled beyond belief to raise our family in.
We lack for nothing and have more than we need.
We are blessed.

I thank God for all these blessings and more
I am so glad that I can sit with my wife in the cool of the evening, share a moment of conversation with her in our wonderful backyard, enjoy being in each other's presence and know that  there are many people who cannot honestly say that.
I am blessed.

Don't Text and Drive

This is powerful.
The direct tie to our area really brings it home.

If you text and drive, please stop doing so.
You may lose the typ of life you have now.
You may lose your life.
You may take someone else's life.

Cold and Sweet

Last week, Lisa and I took the girls to Doozles, a local frozen yogurt joint. Lydia quickly understood what we were waiting for after we placed our order and paid for it. Lainey, on the other hand, didn't understand what we were waiting around for.

Within moments of receiving our order, Lydia was shoveling the m&m covered soft serve into her mouth. Lainey wandered over to Lisa and Lisa asked her if she wanted some ice cream. As Lainey was licking the spoon, Lisa told her, "It's cold and sweet." Lainey walked around the table to where I was sitting, looked me in the eye and declared "Cold and sweet!". As I was getting a spoonful for her, she grew impatient and worried and began to almost cry out "cold and sweet!" It was very cute and very sad at the same time.

From that moment on, Lainey was determined to get as much "cold and sweet" as possible. Swinging between the cry for more and the joy of the taste, Lainey utilized the same words repeatedly, with different intonations and very different meanings.

A few evenings later, we each had a little bowl of ice cream at home. Lainey recognized what it was and instantly exclaimed "Cold and sweet!". She continued this cute little mantra with each bite.

The next morning, I was following Lainey down the hall and she entered the kitchen and said "cold and sweet". I stopped by our fridge and asked her what she meant. She turned around, walked past the fridge, past me and walked straight to the kitchen trash can. She pointed at the top of the contents and proclaimed "cold and sweet!". Sure enough, right at the top of the trash pile was an empty ice cream container.

It's mind-boggling to see how she is beginning to connect words with items, and is able to remember those words when the item is presented to her differently.

It's good to know that we are teaching her how to identify the important things in life.
"Cold and sweet!"

The Marriage Commitment Reflects the Depth of Love

In contrast to how the world defines love and the importance of marriage:

"But when the Bible speaks of love, it measures it primarily not by how much you want to receive but by how much you are willing to give yourself to someone. How much are you willing to lose for the sake of this person? How much of your freedom are you willing to forsake? How much of your precious time, emotion, and resources are your willing to invest in this person? And for that, the marriage vow is not just helpful but it is even a test. In so many cases, when one person says to another, "I love you, but let's not ruin it by getting married," that person really means, "I don't love you enough to close off all my options. I don't love you enough to give myself to you that thoroughly." To say, "I don't need a piece of paper to love you," is basically to say "My love for you has not reached the marriage level."  - Tim Keller "The Meaning of Marriage", p78

The Mystery of Mercy

This song has been playing in my head all morning, as I reflect on what Christ endured for me.

Lyrics for "Mystery Of Mercy " written by Andrew Peterson and Randall Goodgame, performed by Caedmon's Call:

I am the woman at the well, I am the harlot
I am the scattered seed that fell along the path
I am the son that ran away
And I am the bitter son that stayed

My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
When all my love was vinegar to a thirsty King?

My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
It's a mystery of mercy and the song, the song I sing

I am the angry man who came to stone the lover
I am the woman there ashamed before the crowd
I am the leper that gave thanks
But I am the nine that never came

My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
When all my love was vinegar to a thirsty King?

My God, my God why hast thou accepted me
It's a mystery of mercy and the song, the song I sing

You made the seed that made the tree
That made the cross that saved me
You gave me hope when there was none
You gave me your only Son

My God, Lord you are
My God, my God, Lord you are
My God