Baby Nora eats some grapefruit

Nora tried her first grapefruit slice last month....and she made about 100 faces in less than a minute! Here are some of the best.... She really liked it!  She is a little more cautious when I hand her a slice, now..... Just thought I should go ahead and put the real macoy up here so you blog readers didn't have to frantically search.
 (just in case anyone was actually frantically searching...) haha!

Lord, You hear

My Pastor

I think we are all  really happy here.  Feeling very privileged to get a picture with my favorite preacher ever!

The Beach . . .

is so fun.  So so so fun.  I don't know why.  It is the same kind of fun that the snow is.  It just makes me want to play.  I have no idea how to do anything in the water but swim and that not very well, but it is so fun.  This weekend, I had the privilege of going on a retreat with my "fellowship group" (or sunday school) from church.  We went to Long Beach which is just south of here.  Many from my Bible study were there including Aubrea, one of my newer friends who also goes to Master's and lives on the same wing as me :)  She's from Wisconsin which explains why she would jump in with me just one more time.  

Whoever has the key to the heart . . .

When I was about 13 or 14, my dad bought a ring.  A ring with a heart.  A ring to wear on my left hand reserving the place for another ring which would be placed on my hand by a man, a real man who would have won my love.  He also bought a key.  The key has a heart shape upon the top.  This key is the key to the heart I wear on my finger.  One day, a man will come, I believe.  He will come and he will ask the bold question of whether he might have this heart which my dad has so long and carefully protected.  An audacious question, yet one that God gives men the ability to ask and gives fathers the ability to grant.  Upon the day when there stands in front of a small crowd a pastor and this same man, my dad will take me, walk up to this man and there give the key to my heart to him.  The key will pass from one hand to another, my allegiance will have to change and there I will be vowed to serve this man the rest of my days.  

The groom I still wish I had

I am working on being content.  Often I am content, even more than content in my present situation, but then there are those times when I am not.  Yes, I do want to be married, I do want a man so in love with God that he hates me in comparison.  I want a man that, as I decided in high school, is pursuing the list of the 12 Knightly Virtues.

I used to also want a man that was tallish, with dark, wavy, thick hair.  One with dark eyes and skin.  Maybe even one with an accent as my sister's man had.  How romantic does that sound?  Well, alas, I think that wonderful dream has disappeared.  My prayers have instead turned toward this man's heart, his ministry to the Lord, and his growth in the knowledge and love of God.  

I have asked God for a great man.  My prayers have been for a man with a heart to serve God as Luther and Bonhoeffer had.  Only recently have I begun to think of what this would really mean.  I have been greatly humbled in reflection of what this man, if God were to give him to me, would have to deal with in having me given to him.  So then, my prayers have also turned to becoming the kind of woman that this kind of man would need.  Praying for such a thing is like praying for hardship and trials, yet God is good and gentle and kind and He is a wonderful master and teacher to me.  

After some discussion about this with my mom and dad I have changed my attitude a bit towards this man who will someday be mine.  If I have met this man or if I meet him in the future, my desires now are to behave toward him in a God honoring way.

Joseph's window this morning . . .

This was too funny.  I have no idea who did it, but really, too funny . . . unless it really is a girl, then it's too weird!  She'd do so much better just coming to me than leaving stocker notes on windows . . . oh dear!

Happy Valentines Day!!

Growing up, I always looked forward to Valentines Day.  It was a day when we gave each other chocolate, hung hearts up all over, the day when Mom would make the table beautiful with surprises before we woke up, and the day when we got a great steak dinner.  What is there not to like about it?  Besides, it was the day that we talked about love and my name means love.  It's like a holiday that I'm named for.

When I came to college though, I started to hear what others thought about the day.  It was not so good as what I thought.  Valentines, many of the people around me would say, is the day when you realize that you have no man (or woman for the men) in your life.  It is "single awareness" day.  Really, that's just stupid.

In Life Together by Deitrich Bonhoeffer, he writes about true love.  In this book he makes a clear argument how we, as people of God can love in one of two ways.  We can love with a love that is human love or we can love with a love that is spiritual love.  This human love has its roots in what I can gain from loving another person.  When that other person does not do what is expected, I become offended and my "love" turns to hatred.  Loving in a proper spiritual way has its roots in Christ.  I will love others for who they are in Christ.  There is no expectations that hang on to this kind of love, but simply a giving motivated by Christ.  Spiritual love is not downtrodden with expectations, but joyful in sacrifice.

Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, 

I have become sounding brass or a clanging cymbal.  

And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, 

and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, 

but have not love, I am nothing . 

And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, 

and though I give my body to be burned, 

but have not love, it profits me nothing.

Love suffers long and is kind; love does not envy; love does not parade itself, is not puffed up; 

does not behave rudely, does not seek its own, is not provoked, thinks no evil; 

does not rejoice in iniquity, but rejoices in the truth; 

bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. 

My Groom

Sitting on our beds in my little room, a new friend and I had a great discussion on our groom.  You didn't know I had one?  Oh! but I do!  He is wonderful, beautiful, magnificent, strong, kind, loving, submissive, faithful beyond imagination, a servant and yet a king.  My friend lit up as she described this wonderful groom in her life.  "Why, I wouldn't mind being single my whole life just knowing that He is mine!"  We will not always be single even if we don't get married till the day we die. Because, on that day, we will see Him!  Her groom and my groom is one and the same.  He is our redeemer Jesus Christ.  This wonderful groom did not only find me and love me but He redeemed me from a wretched and fallen state from which I had no hope of salvation.  He then protects, guides, and watches over me.  He calls me to walk worthy of my position as bride (of which I fail miserably) and He is the head of my life.  In a strange and yet wonderful way, He not only has done this and is this for me, but He is this for all other believers.  Marian and I continued to talk about this wonderful groom and how, really, we are most happy when we give ourselves completely to Him.  She said it really is not that hard, just tell Him I am Yours and let Him do as He wills.  Well, I must admit I find it hard, but I don't want to and I was so encouraged by our little talk.

And I heard, as it were, the voice of a great multitude, 

as the sound of many waters and as the sound of mighty thunderings, saying, 

"Alleluia! For the Lord God Omnipotent reigns! 

Let us be glad and rejoice and give Him glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, 

and His wife has made herself ready."  

And to her it was granted to be arrayed in fine linen, clean and bright, 

for the fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints.

Asking God For Blessings

Each day I come to our Father in heaven asking for His guidance, His wisdom, His mercy as I live out my moments.  Then again with my family, we ask for His help to live our day according to His will.  In the evenings we are again asking God to watch over us, keep us, bless us.  Occasionally, in all this asking I can feel a slight ping of guilt that I ask far too much.  Perhaps I should ask nothing of God, only sit and humbly take whatever He desires to give or do for me and my loved ones.  There has always been a bit of a quandary in what to ask of God.

This morning while reading Psalm 144, I was delighted to find David "asking" God to bless him with many of the same things I ask daily.  No, I don't have sheep (at least not now) or cattle.  Charity would probably not desire to look like a pillar in a palace.  But, my heart desires the same things.   I ask our Father to make my sons strong, to make my daughters secure, to give us plenty of good food, that we would be prosperous in the things that bring comfort to ourselves and others, that we would be safe where we live, where we work.  Blessed are we when blessings fall upon us!  It comforted my heart.  I hope it does yours.

May our sons in their youth

                        be like plants full grown,

            our daughters like corner pillars

                        cut for the structure of a palace;

            may our granaries be full,

                        providing all kinds of produce;

            may our sheep bring forth thousands

                        and ten thousands in our fields;

            may our cattle be heavy with young,

                        suffering no mishap or failure in bearing;

            may there be no cry of distress in our streets!

            Blessed are the people to whom such blessings fall!

                        Blessed are the people whose God is the LORD!

(Psalm 144:12-15 ESV)

Today: a chance for me to see His grace first hand

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness . . ."

Lord, thank you for the wonderful misery of rain!

"It's the other way round," said Denniston. "Everyone begins as a child by liking Weather. You learn the art of disliking it as you grow up. Noticed it on a snowy day? The grown-ups are all going about with long faces, but look at the children - and the dogs? They know what snow's made for."
"I'm sure I hated wet days as a child," said Jane.
"That's because the grown-ups kept you in," said Camilla. "Any child loves rain if it's allowed to go out and paddle about in it.”  ~C.S. Lewis That Hideous Strength

Maybe that means I'm still a child . . . or just mad :)

Male and Female He created them

Quite honestly, I'm a strange girl.  I’m not one who really enjoys listening to a whole “message” by a woman.  Usually, I’m pretty turned off by it.  But I had to listen to this message for an assignment due Monday morning.  Begrudgingly, I turned it on this afternoon as I cleaned up my room.  As it went on, I quit cleaning and sat down to really listen.  This one was good.  Mary Kassian did a wonderful job calling women to stand up to the call of feminism and to practice biblical womanhood.  She clearly shows the deceitfulness and the hatefulness behind feminism and how it has progressed.  It is a sad state, burdening women with a lifestyle contrary to godliness.  We, as women, are to stand fast in our biblical femininity, to be rebels against the world’s expectations, and to embrace godliness.  It is not easy.  It is right, and it is good.

The message comes from True Women '08, Revive our Hearts.  It is called "You've come a long way, Baby!" and you can find it here.  Girls, I love you dearly, but I'm not sure you should be listening to it, so please ask your mom or dad before you do.  It's not bad or anything, just a bit mature and I'm sure your mom or dad would know right off if it's too much for you :)    

As a bonus, here's one of my favorite quotes from one of my favorite books by one of my favorite men: 

"Madness does not come by breaking out, but by giving in; by settling down in some dirty, little, self-repeating circle of ideas; by being tamed." ~G.K. Chesterton Manalive

Let us, as women, not settle down, be content, and be tamed by our culture. No, we need to rise up, to be "mad" in the already mad world's eyes.  For to be seen as mad by the madman is no offense.

Mr. McGregor's Garden

I'm planning my garden this week.  Texas offers two growing seasons: the Spring and the Fall.  Our biggest problem in the Hill Country is rock which makes above ground gardening the only way to go.  Our other biggest problems are too much heat and too little water which makes drip irrigation also the only way to go.  After three years of asking questions and going to gardening classes, I am ready to try my hand at Texas gardening.  Over Spring break Joseph (19) built three gardens for me.  The area is complete with fence around and a pristine little gate which  makes entering my garden an "affair".  I never open that little gate without thinking of Mr. McGregor's cottage garden in Peter Rabbit.  Here's hoping my little garden will actually grow and be fruitful so that little Peter Rabbits will envy it.

"God Almighty first planted a garden. And indeed, it is the purest of human pleasures."

Francis Bacon

But the great people do it . . .

Pretty much all the great pastors and authors that I have been largely influenced by use pen and ink primarily for their deep studying.  That is, a pen which must be dipped into the ink (as the older authors had to do) or a fountain pen which must be regularly refilled with ink (as the modern ones do).  I thought it was just a weird notion of theirs that these actually make a difference when writing and studying.  I was wrong.  Something got into me one day and I tried one.  This is no weird notion.  It changes the whole way of writing, it affects the brain, it allows a person to have a deeper relationship with what they are authoring.  I know, it sounds crazy.  But don't be too quick to call me crazy until you try one!  As I was pursuing the art of using fountain pens, I ran out of ink and had to buy myself a real genuine ink bottle.  In old books you read about the ink on a writer's finger.  You also read about the mess this ink can make.  Well, just so you know, it's true.

Without reading the directions of how to do it properly, I excitedly dove into the activity of filling my cartridge and dripped all over.  The ink stains dark and will not come off!  However, the 60 second experiment was hilarious and I am optimistic about the future challenge of filling up the pen without a mess.

"Have you a pen and ink, Master Doctor?"
"'A scholar is never without them, your majesty,' answered Doctor Cornelius"
~C.S. Lewis
Prince Caspian