Sofie at 7 Months

Sofie at 7 months


Sofie riding to Nana Barbie's


Showing off her big mouth


Hanging out in the laundry basket

Selling the crap out of my crap

That might sound crass, but it's stuck with me. I was browsing around the Invisible Children website wondering what else I can do and stumbled upon that phrase.

So, I'm going to do it. As of today I am finally picking up all the extra stuff I just don't need and putting it in a box to sell or give away. All profits will be given to the Invisible Children.

You might think this is Spring cleaning, but then - you don't know me. I am anti-pack rat.

I am talking about getting rid of the little additives that we Americans think are necessary ... like the third can opener, and the clock in the living room.

I am sick to death (spiritually) of convenience.

I am tired of keeping up with the Jones's, and honestly most of my friends and family too.

I just don't need the stuff (crap!) more than the Invisible Children need a safe place to live. I don't need comfort more than children need food and water.

I don't need to impress you.

The Jones's don't care about me.

And God, well I'm pretty sure He wants me to stop serving two masters.

So, if you need the crap please come buy it from me. I have way too much.

Matthew 6:24

The Last Couple of Months

I have taken recent pics of Sofie, but have neither the time or the money to develop them. Hope to do so soon. She is beautiful and amazing. She can walk now. The threat level has been updated to orange.

I haven't been writing since I moved here. It has been too crazy. There is also the issue of not having the perfect journal. I always have to find the journal with just the right feel to it. The feel is always different, but one that encourages me to pour out the depths of my heart and wit. Less of the latter. The world just isn't ready.

I am in a gulley - not a desert. It's not dry here; it just seems that trials and obstacles have slowly worn a gaping hole in my faith and perseverance. How do I keep a flame burning in a hurricane? I don't want to take the metaphors too far. I just want to tell someone (anyone) that Christians disappoint me. I disappoint me. Our love for sin and self disappoint me. Most of all my infinitesimal disappointment and consciousness of sin shames me.

Anyway, I will save the majority of my thoughts for the previously mentioned journal.