This is our 18 week ultra sound of baby #2. Baby didn't co-operate too well so the best shot we got was a face shot! Aaron, some how thought he saw that the baby was a boy... but I'm not convinced :)Guess only time will tell!
Our good friend has been given just a few weeks to live. Cancer is slowly taking his life and has completely taken control of his 31 year old body. For almost a year now we've prayed, cried, and wrestled over this. At this point I'm wondering, "What's the difference between living by faith and living in naivety?" and "What's the difference between living in hope and living in denial?" And after months of passionate and heartfelt prayers all I can pray now is, "Where did you go?"1. Opening Credits: To Hell With the Devil - Stryper
2. Waking Up: Meet Me in the Morning – Bob Dylan
3. First Day At School: Gone – Jack Johnson
4.Falling In Love: Happy Happy Oh – Devendra Banhart
5.Fight Song: Sitting, Waiting, Wishing – Jack Johnson
6.Breaking up: Ordinary Day – Great Big Sea
7. Prom: I.C.B. - New Order
8. Life: Love is Blindness – U2
9. Mental Breakdown: Viva – Jesse Cook
10. Driving: Undivided Self – Sufjan Stevens
11. Flashback: Its Dangerous Business Walking Out Your Front Door- UnderOath
12. Getting back together: Packing Blankets - Eels
13. Losing your virginity: She’s Hearing Voices – Bloc Party
14. Wedding: Human – Metallica and the
15. Birth of Child : Giant Steps – John Coltrane
16. Final
17. Funeral Song: Clocks - Coldplay
18. End Credits: The Late Greats - Wilco
no word of a lie, these are the songs that came up.

A Poetic Commentary on Botticelli's Cestello Annuncation
By Andrew Hudgins
The angel has already said, Be not afraid.
He's said, The power of the Most High
will darken you. Her eyes are downcast and half closed.
And there's a long pause -a pause here of forever-
as the angel crowds her. She backs away,
her left side pressed against the picture frame.
He kneels. He's come in all unearthly innocence
to tell her of glory -not knowing, not remembering
how terrible it is. And Botticelli
gives her eternity to turn, look out the doorway, where
on a far hill floats a castle, and halfway across
the river toward it juts a bridge, not completed-
and neither is the touch, angel to virgin,
both her hands held up, both elegant, one raised
as if to say stop, while the other hand, the right one,
reaches toward his; and, as it does, it parts her blue robe
and reveals the concealed red of her inner garment
to the red tiles of the floor and the red folds
of the angel's robe. But her whole body pulls away.
Only her head, already haloed, bows,
acquiescing. And though she will, she's not yet said,
Behold, I am the handmaiden of the Lord,
as Botticelli, in his great pity,
lets her refuse, accept, refuse, and think again.
The Magnificat (Luke 1:46-55)
My soul magnifies the Lord,
And my spirit rejoices in God my Savior.For He has regarded the low estate of His handmaiden,
For behold, henceforth all generations shall call me blessed.
For He who is mighty has done great things for me, and holy is His name. And His mercy is on those who fear Him from generation to generation.
He has shown strength with His arm:
He has scattered the proud in the imagination of their hearts.
He has put down the mighty from their thrones,
and exalted those of low degree.
He has filled the hungry with good things;
and the rich He has sent empty away.
He has helped His servant Israel, in remembrance of His mercy;
As He spoke to our fathers, to Abraham and to His posterity forever.Glory be to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit.
As it was in the beginning, is now and ever shall be, world without end. Amen
A trialsome November has brought a new light to Christmas.
We have become fellow sojourners with the Magi,
Looking to the Bright Morning Star for a glimpse of hope.
Trying not to mourn what we have left behind, squinting to see a the twinkle of light that lies ahead.
Kneeling, pleading “O come, O come Emmanuel, and ransom captive
In chapel on Tuesday a “wise man” spoke of Jesus’ last claim of himself… calling himself Bright Morning Star. He explained that the Bright Morning Star appears in the wee hours of the night after the darkness has been the strongest. It is the first glimpse of light, the first sign of morning, and though it appears so small and distant at times, it tells us that darkness has been defeated and daylight will triumph.
O come, O come Emmanuel!!!
In the deep and bright essence of that exalted Light, three circles appeared to me; they had three different colors, but all of them were of the same dimension; one circle seemed reflected by the second, as rainbow is by rainbow, and the third seemed fire breathed equally by those two circles. How incomplete is speech, how weak, when set against my thought!
...
That circle-- which, begotten so, appeared in You as light reflected-- when my eyes had watched it with attention for some time, within itself and colored like itself, to me seemed painted with our effigy, so that my sight was set on it completely.
As the geometer intently seeks to square the circle, but he cannot reach, through thought on thought, the principle he needs, so i searched that strange sight: i wished to see the way in which our human effigy suited the circle and found place in it-- and my own wings were far too weak for that.
But then my mind was struck by light that flashed and, with this light, received what it had asked.

It's Christmas! Let's be Glad.I've been thinking a lot about Christmas lately and how each year the consumerism that drives our Western idea of Christmas drives me almost as crazy as the buttery smooth vocals of the Christmas carols being played in the mall. But on a practical note, I'm wondering what Christmas should look like in the context of my immediate family? Lydia and I were talking about this the other day, and although the issue of Santa really won't need to be resolved for another year now (Noah doesn't know Santa from a hole in the wall at this point)... but I'm really wondering:
Sufjan Stevens
since its Christmas let's be glad.
even if your life's been bad.
there are presents to be had.
take a walk out in the snow.
and hear Santa's, "ho ho ho."
he's got a million miles to go.
la la la la la la ah
sing a carol to your mom.
'cause she knows what's going on.
and she knows if you've been bad or good.
and if you'll get what you deserve.
to be graded on the curve.
oh you got a lot of nerve.
la la la la la la ah
since the year is almost out
lift your hands and give a shout
there's a lot to shout about today
since its Christmas let's be glad.
even if the year's been bad.
there are presents to be had.
a promotion for your dad.
i first came across the following poem while reading an article by Eugene Peterson last year. it initially caught my attention, but i soon forgot about it until a couple months ago when i came across it again. it has been stuck in my mind ever since. i'm not poetic enough to grasp the entire depth of it, but i just love the resounding theme of all of creation employed to speak 'Christ'... because as man we are created in the image of God... the Imago Dei... Christ playing in ten thousand places.to me this is beautiful.
Untitled
by Gerard Manley Hopkins (1844–89)As kingfishers catch fire, dragonflies dráw fláme;
As tumbled over rim in roundy wells
Stones ring; like each tucked string tells, each hung bell's
Bow swung finds tongue to fling out broad its name;
Each mortal thing does one thing and the same:
Deals out that being indoors each one dwells;
Selves - goes itself; myself it speak and spells,
Crying Whát I do is me: for that I came.Í say móre: the just man justices;
Kéeps grace: thát keeps all his goings graces;
Acts in God's eye what in God's eye he is -
Chríst - for Christ play in ten thousand places,
Lovely in limbs, and lovely in eyes not his
To the Father through the features of men's faces.



