When I have nothing to say...

In some rare spare moments, I've come across a few posts that have spoken to my heart, reminded me of God's goodness, made me laugh, or just noodled their way into my thoughts throughout the days of laundry, filling and emptying dishwashwers, and attempting to keep up with young children.

So many things I read are golden, but I don't always remember to share them.  These are some current goodies so grab your hot cider (some tissues too!) and settle in:

Fake Family 
...I had these ideas about bringing the kids home to a perfectly run household with impressive structures and systems; our food was all organic obviously, and our kids miraculously stopped fighting. In fact, after Ben and Remy arrived, there would never be another argument in our home. We would be the ideal prototype for responsible child-rearing. Our kids would track with math and science scores reported from Japan. They would certainly not become addicted to Movies on Demand or Angry Birds, because they could only earn a maximum of fifteen minutes of screen time a week after completing their required chores and "bonus exercise points" through the online job chart we complete by 6:30pm each night, after enjoying the traditional Ethiopian meal I made from scratch but before their systematic language instruction (their bedtime ritual)... (click here to read in its entirety)

The Incredible Story of Mr. Miles

...I knew Debbie was right. But, really, I believed that she was right about her situation. Maybe not so much about mine. When things fell outside of my perfect timeline, I was frustrated and blinded by consuming desperation.  MY TIMELINE MUST WORK. Or so I behaved... (click here to read more)

When Dry Bones Breathe :
...Weeks later, we learned of Lily and months later, I held her for the first time. In many respects she was that vacuous field of bones. A life, waiting to be written-on. Muscles formed from birth, but without shape — she had atrophied. Years existing, but not really living, had taken their toll. And her almost-eight years of empty challenged my greatest fears. Could He heal even her? Was she forever damaged?
Click here to read the rest

Behind the Blue Door
Behind the Blue Door are maturing miracles, chosen by God, for a perfect plan and purpose, waiting for those who will help them reach their potential.  Behind the Blue Door are joyful, cherished, princes and princesses of the King, positioned to receive from God.  Behind the Blue Door the pitter patter of little feet and little voices fill the air.  Behind the Blue Door are seeds, planted by God, waiting for the nutrients to help them grow.  They are Standing, Waiting, Behind the Blue Door.... (read in it's entirety here)