History 101

I've just finished reading The Case for the Real Jesus by Lee Strobel. And I know he has written multiple books in the same format, but this one had a specific issue that hit me.

You know how you can hear something and think you know it but then there's that one time that you hear it again in passing and you think, "Wait a minute- what did you just say? That's amazing! Why haven't I understood that before now?" That's how I feel.

See there's the case of Jesus Christ as a physical, historical person and his resurrection being argued. And all these scholars and intellectuals and skeptics all agree that there is an extraordinary amount of proof (outside of the Bible) that Jesus existed, died and was resurrected. I know I already knew that.

Here's why I was dumbfounded:
Why do we (Christians) ever use the phrase, "You just have to have faith" when explaining or defending our beliefs? If there's proof, PROOF, that Jesus lived and was resurrected, why does it seem so strange that we believe it? No one says "You just have to have faith that World War II happened" or "You just have to trust that Martin Luther King, Jr. existed." Those historical events aren't doubted, so why are we defending factual history concerning the life of Christ?

I don't think I'm making the point I want to make... this isn't meant to be a Bible argument, it's much more personal... let me try again.
Why do I have a hard time believing that Jesus Christ really did die for me and that he really will be there for me in the end? Why do I struggle with the "meaning of it all"? Why do I ever wonder if I'm just talking to myself when I pray? How can I have all these doubts? How can I fall back on the "if only I could just SEE Him, it'd make it easier" argument? I've never once asked to see any other historical person to believe.

I just don't understand how I can struggle with something that doesn't require "faith" as much as "acceptance". I don't have to believe that Jesus lived and died for my sins; I just have to accept it.

Milestone

Well, this is apparently my 101st blog post. So to kick off the next 100 posts, I'm posting a video for the first time. Could someone please tell me why my child randomly decides to sing out of the side of her mouth? Is she a future comedian? actress? ventriloquist? I guess time will tell.

Flying High

Matt decided today that Abby should fly a kite. It obviously isn't March so it took a little searching to actually find a kite to fly, but eventually we did- thank you Toys R Us.

Abby was a natural:

The only issue was that when we told her to run, she took off and kept going until we chased after her and screamed for her to run the other way.

Fashion Week

In honor of NY fashion week, I present two looks that will be popular in the Naylor household this fall:

The heart hoodie sweatshirt. Tried it on her during the wonderful cooler weather Tuesday, managed to get it off of her at the end of the ridiculously warm Wednesday. She seems to be a huge fan of the hoodie. Very excited to cover her head for some reason.

The pink hightops. Those who know and love me are aware that I don't purchase pink items willingly. But these may be the cutest shoes ever. It doesn't hurt that daddy has a black pair. If I buy some then we can be the Chuck Taylor-wearing Naylor family.

Unfortunately for Abby, she lives in Texas. So, here she is displaying her excitement that I let her wear her fall shoes with shorts!

Weekend Pics

Blissfully certain that she had outsmarted the sprinkler by staying one step ahead:

Sadly, she didn't notice the sprinkler was gaining on her until it was too late:
And I took this one today. It's her cute Footloose look:

Grandfatherly Love?

This weekend Abby spent time playing hard with her grandparents. After watching four adults anticipate her every need and bend to her every whim, I started thinking.

So many times I have heard a message or read a passage that involved the concept of God as Father. And every time it has been presented to me, I've struggled to connect with it. I wasn't a daddy's little girl. I didn't have a great dad. There were even a few years when I didn't have a dad at all. But I had an amazing grandfather. And here's the thing: I never, never doubted that he loved me. I never thought I wasn't good enough. Never thought that if I messed up he'd stop loving me. Never questioned why he loved me or how much he loved me. I just knew that he did.

Most people think parents are forced to love you. How many times have we heard or said some variation of, "Of course you think I'm good enough- you're my mom/dad."? But grandparents don't have the same stipulations. They didn't choose to bring you into the world. They aren't physically and emotionally connected with you from day 1. They can come and go as infrequently as they choose. They get to "give you back" to your parents when they're tired. But in my case, my grandparents chose to love me. Not merely tolerate me, but to love me passionately and irrevocably.

Here's the point I'm getting at: it may be nearly impossible for me to imagine God as my Father, but it seems to be pretty easy to imagine Him loving me like my grandfather did. If my grandad, who was human and made plenty of mistakes, loved me in spite of my many faults, then how much more must God love me?

So, maybe the title isn't as important as I've made it out to be. Maybe every time the Bible and pastors and teachers mention God as a Father it's because that is supposed to be a universal example of perfect love. Well, if that's the case, I'm just going to start adding a little "grand" in front of "father". Here's hoping that isn't too blasphemous.

Hug Tower

This may be one of my favorite pictures of all time. It doesn't matter that you can't see our faces, or baby cake's amazing blue eyes, I think it's beautiful.

Me and my favorite two little girls in the whole world. Who cares if only one of them is my own?!

A Night to Remember

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times...

Yesterday Abby was holding an orange tic-tac in her hand. Held it for an hour and a half in fact. Then she suddenly looked at me and said, "I put the candy in my nose. Get it out!" I looked at her like she was crazy but yep, I could see a little orange sticking out of her nostril. Tried not to freak out. I had her blow her nose. But since she was crying, all the blowing accomplished was orange snot. I threw her into the car and we went to CareNow. Where we sat with lots of high school kids waiting for physicals. After an hour we saw the doctor who looked up her nose and couldn't find the tic-tac. Of course by this time Abby had stopped crying and judging by her sniffling, the orange candy coating was obviously gone. Now we were on the hunt for a white tic-tac. In our naivety we thought, "If the doctor can't find it, that's good right? That means it dissolved or went down her throat." Oh the innocence. Nope, the doctor said we had to go to an ER because it may have moved up into her sinuses.

Off to the hospital. Doctor comes in, looks up her nose, can't see it, and says, "It probably dissolved. I think she's fine, you'll just need to watch her. If she gets a bloody nose or says she has a headache, bring her back." We were relieved as he went to get Abby a popsicle. Turns out the doctor gave us false hope. Because when he came back he said, "You know, since no doctor actually saw the candy in her nose, we need to take an xray just to make sure she didn't aspirate it."

Crap. Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep a two year old still while they take chest xrays? Ridiculous.

Eventually the doctor comes back and asks if we happen to have any more tic-tacs. After I get them out of the car, the doctor apparently takes an xray of a single tic-tac. Why? To see if it matches what they see on her chest xray. Yep, it did.

So after 5 and 1/2 hours we found out that most of the tic-tac dissolved and then the rest of it went into her lung. Apparently she'll be fine. We just have to keep her healthy for a few days. And we have to remember to embarrass her with this story when she's a teenager.

Lessons learned yesterday:

- tic-tacs are perfectly shaped for a toddler's nostril.

- some candy may not melt in the hand, but they all melt in mucus.

- when going to the ER, don't forget to take a jacket. even if it is the middle of summer in Texas.

- although beads, marbles, and beans are frequently stuck in noses, a tic-tac was a new item for each of the 5 doctors we saw. Abby is obviously creative.

- we should probably stop joking about how Abby tends to "inhale" her snacks. not so funny now that it has actually happened.

- each of the 5 doctors who looked up her nose commented that her breath was minty fresh. this is probably a more severe way of going about fresh breath than most want to attempt, but still, it is apparently an option.

- somewhere out there is a radiologist technician who's telling his friends, "I've got to find a new job. Last night they made me take an xray of a tic-tac. Yeah, a single tic-tac. No, not a white one, an orange one. What's that about? I didn't go to school for 10 years to take pictures of candy."

Rookie Mistake

oh, so much to learn. made the giant error of driving (and i use that term loosely- it was more like a slow roll) near and through campus today. first day of fall semester. busiest college day ever. see, i know for a fact that tomorrow and wednesday the sidewalks will have a lighter load. because today everyone received that beautiful essential piece of paper- the syllabus. with detailed rules about class attendance... that it probably doesn't matter except on test days. and even if it does matter, you always get a few freebies. ahh, how i miss those days. feeling hopeful, organized, committed to attending and listening and learning. twice a year. fall and spring.

A few extras

Here are some photos from the past month that I like but they just didn't make it as the picture of the day:

Straight to the Heart

About 10 years ago there was a Robin Williams' movie, What Dreams May Come. Remember it? In the end Robin's character had managed to arrive in "heaven" with his wife and children. His heaven looked like one of his wife's paintings- cottage, trees, fields of flowers. The family was wonderfully happy to gather together again. Even their old dog was there.
I remember thinking after watching the movie: obviously not a Christian film, but what a nice happily-ever-after ending... all the things and people that he loved were going to spend eternity together.
Fast forward to tonight when I read this passage by John Piper:
"The critical question for our generation- and for every generation- is this: If you could have heaven, with no sickness, and with all the friends you ever had on earth, and all the food you ever liked, and all the leisure activities you ever enjoyed, and all the natural beauties you ever saw, all the physical pleasures you ever tasted, and no human conflict or any natural disasters, could you be satisfied with heaven, if Christ was not there?"
Oh.
Made me stop and think. Even made me remember that song we used to sing in school when we gathered at the flag pole to pray. "At my Father's house there'll be a big, big table with lots and lots of food... a big, big yard where we can play football, etc."
How often we focus on everything except the One Thing that matters about heaven.

That's all folks!

Challenge complete. I've managed to take at least one new picture every single day for the last month. 30 times I've felt a little lighter after being behind the camera. Things I've learned about myself over the past month: I love macro photography, I seem to find paths interesting, and just walking around watching the light change is inspiring. I also have to mention that Matt may just be the most understanding, supportive husband out there.

I couldn't end the challenge with just a random subject, so I used old faithful: Abby.

Perfectly Worded

A rather serious entry, but I had to write it down. Those closest to me know that I continually struggle with the concept of death and heaven. It's hard to put into words. I'm not afraid of the physical pain of dying. I'm afraid of leaving people behind and of not having the same relationships in heaven. I understand that this is a totally emotional thought process. I know it means I put too much emphasis on the wrong things. I believe in heaven, but I know what I experience here. That I love being a child, a wife, a mother, a friend. I believe in heaven, I just can't imagine it. Who can, really? It is supposed to be amazing, perfection, beyond imagination. We are supposed to want for nothing there. Who can imagine not wanting?

One time when my grandad was in the hospital he looked at me and said, "I'm not afraid of dying. If God could make all of this, then heaven has to be pretty good." I've thought about that over the past 3 years, and it always makes me feel a little better. But I'm still scared.

Tonight though, I finished reading Beautiful Boy by David Sheff. At the very end he recounts the end of summer as his family was returning from a trip. His daughter, a fourth grader at the time, who was not raised by religious parents, suddenly said, "But you know, I don't think I will be so scared to die. I think it's like today: the end of a vacation when you are ready to go home."

Who would have thought that from the mouth of a child whom I do not know, I would be given a sense of peace?

Yep, that's my girl

What better way to spend a gray, rainy afternoon than by taking an extended nap? Matt thinks this picture is proof we could have serious issues if we move to Oregon. I'm just happy to see my baby enjoy sleeping like I do.

Simpler Things

I love this lady. No idea who she is, but I love her. She was out at the lake this evening with a pink fishing pole and she was pulling fish out as fast as she could bait the line. I love that she wore a great hat and that she didn't have a bunch of fancy stuff. She sat on a tackle box and threw her catches into an old beat up bucket.

It made me think how slowly time seemed to move when I lived in the country. Apparently time moves slowly in the suburbs too. You just have to be willing to sit down for a minute.

Lazy Sunday

Sometimes all that is needed is a cup of coffee and a bistro table.

up close and personal

Last Sunday Matt Chandler's message concerned self righteousness and self loathing. A week has passed and I still can't get it out of my head. I never thought that I had a problem with self loathing until I listened to him speak. Apparently the millions of times that I've compared myself with other women, godly women, and thought, "if only I was as good as her at ..." has been my own form of self loathing. I have this image of what a truly beautiful godly woman looks and acts like, and it involves being soft spoken, meek, unassuming, endlessly patient and a natural beauty-- all the things I lack. It's a little ironic because I realize that if I actually had each of those qualities, then I'd probably have a huge issue with self righteousness.

Writing with Light

I love the meaning of the word "photography". Derived from two Greek words, photography is essentially translated "writing with light". I think it's a beautiful and fitting definition. And because I think night photography is amazing, I spent a little time writing with the light of the moon tonight. It may not be in any known language, but I just couldn't pass up an opportunity to play.

transition

so the photo is a little late, oh well. yesterday was a transition day for us as matt started back to work and I started officially being a stay at home mom. abby and I conquered a trip to the local dmv, an outing with keri and cate, and a reunion with old friends. not a bad first day at work.

the best thing to come of it would definitely be these new yarns for the upcoming knitting project.

Stage 1

You may remember from the original "funk" post I made that part of my defunking process is a 3 step hair plan. Today stage 1 was accomplished. Shorter and blonder. Stages 2 & 3 will happen in about 6 weeks. (Not the best picture of me but that's understandable. I belong behind the camera, not in front of it!)

The Littlest Phelps Phan

We think Abby has a future in swimming.

Here is her reinactment of Phelps' warmup routine:

And her cheering for the relay team!

Leaves

Here is the photo of the day. I think the thinness of these leaves makes them look a little like fingerprints.

Phelps Phan

I know a few of you out there are with me on watching the Olympics. I also know a few of you (squish) are completely unpassionate about them. I love that the Olympics brings people and countries together, but even more I love that every person has that one favorite event. Swimming is why I watch the Olympics. Gymnastics make me wish I were short and flexible, volleyball makes me wish I were tall and muscular, but swimming just makes me wish I were in the pool. It's the only team sport I ever played. The only sport that I feel comes naturally. And I can not get enough of watching it. Especially when Michael Phelps is in the water. Anyone else just see him win the 200 freestyle? I mean, when you touch the wall, turn around to check the clock, and 2nd place is still swimming towards you- you know you demolished the competition. So far for Phelps- 3 golds, 3 new world records.

Sunset Storm

I love summer storms... such a nice change of pace.

How did I end up here?

I love all books, but I have to admit my passion tends to lean in the fiction direction. Tonight I looked down and realized that the 3 books I'm currently reading are all nonfiction. Beautiful Boy is written by the father of a drug addict. Rather serious story. Driving Over Lemons is written by a man who spontaneously purchased a run down farm in Spain. Makes me want to move to a foreign country or at least to an unfamiliar place in the US. And Yarn Harlot is a collection of hilarious escapades by a woman with a passion for knitting. Being as all the women in my family tend to hoard yarn and fabric, the stories hit close to home and I think it's preparing me for the upcoming knitting project.