And now we will run the gamut

First, the serious.

My friend Leslee's post and accompanying slideshow brought me to tears this morning. Their family has finally received the green light to bring home three adoptive children from Ethiopia! God is GOOD. Their story humbles me.

Then, the frivolous.

My mom sent me these shoes for my birthday. Aren't they the bomb?!?! Fortunately, my toenails were ALREADY painted red. I told her that after all, the book of Romans does tell us that all things work together for good to those who love God. She wasn't so sure that was what the Apostle Paul had in mind. Huh.

I intend to wear them on Mother's Day, if only to inspire my children and myself to not overlook life's little gracenotes. :-)

Then, the in-between.

Last night we attended Ian's AWANA Award Ceremony, basically the last hurrah of the year for the third graders on up to high schoolers. Reflecting on the fact that a year ago, Ian was dead set against doing such a structured activity, it sure felt good to watch him sidle across the stage to accept his book-completion award. And lollipop. Of course. Let no childhood accomplishment go unmarked by lollipops.

Tim and I had our moment on the stage to be recognized with the other leaders --a spotlight moment which was mercifully short. But standing there with the kids and the other serving parents, I realized what a blessing it's been to serve this year -- with the fifth and sixth grade boys, no less! That's where they were shorthanded (can't imagine why) so that's where Tim and I ended up, trading off weeks as sidekicks to a man who fits perfectly with those guys because he's really about twelve inside. Love him. There I'd be, sitting in a room with about ten boys -- the ones who soberly motored through their books, spouting verses reliably week after week, the one who literally could not sit still and would recite to me while running in circles around me, the one who lost his book halfway through the year and would bring his verse in scrawled on a scrap of paper, the one who would burst into tears when he failed to meet his self-imposed recitation quota. Boys, in all their glory. And put all together, they reassured me that my own boy, who could almost be a composite of all these young warriors, both is and will continue to be, a perfectly normal and completely mysterious Boy.