Bittersweet. This emotion happens when you use objects that once belonged to someone you love. It's joyful and honoring and painful. Things don't matter. People do. However, the memories that are triggered by objects are valuable. Especially when the memories belong to someone else.
This pie pan has seen the inside of an oven hundreds of times. My in-laws do dessert properly. Often and Big. This pan has carried apple pie, cherry pie and a really good lemon meringue. But apparently not the actual lemon meringue recipe printed on the inside of the pie pan. Ever. My husband said he wanted to keep this pie pan of his mother's partly because he wanted to fulfill a childhood wish and make the recipe in the pan.
My theory on why the pan recipe never happened is because the first step in the pie pan receipe is to bake the pie crust. Then the recipe is covered. Who wants to take the time to write out the recipe? Tech saves the day. I took a photo and off we went.
Lemon Meringue is scary. It's best when the lemon curd is not runny. But you don't know how you did until you cut into the pie. No take backs with this pie. We zested and thickened and measured and tasted. Hauled the pie over to the big 4th of July BBQ and cut into the pie. It was too goopy. Oops. Clearly needed more of the stirring constantly until thickens bit. We ate the whole thing anyway. I took another photo.
I take photos of everything. Receipts, lists, bills, library books, medication lists. I recognize that there are far better information storage solutions than scrolling through photos but this plan fits my organized chaos personality. It is also a great encourgement to me to tuck things I love in by things I don't like so much. It's like saving a hug in storage for when I know I'll need one.
When I'm searching through my photo stream to find my car repair receipts or the business card to the pest control company and I run across happy shots I quit frowning. I end up calling the doctor or plumber with gratitude back intact. Sitting on hold while thinking about my hunk of a husband carrying a little pink 4th of July fairy frankly makes the world balance nicely.
It works offline as well. My purse certainly carries my wallet and license and insurance and other responsible adult items but I also have a glitter covered acorn and a smiley face finger puppet. Fun tucked in.
My bathroom mirror has a colorful note from my eldest. Its joy in the morning. Some of my tough issue files at work and home have Bible verses written on the inside cover. It makes opening the file and dealing with the problem easier. Try it. Purposefully put photos or verses or notes of joy with things that give you pain.
You know those heirlooms you have; your grandmother's china, your mother's Bible, a watch from your dad ? Use them. I'm betting your loved ones would like it. Our pie pan has a great history. Now it has a new memory tucked in beside the old. Lemon and Sugar. Bittersweet.
I love my friend Tara and the joy of watching as she perservered through painful days. Do you have a story to share about perseverance or trust?
Trust and Jump
There's a song on the radio lately that has been my mantra.
"Trust in you" by Lauren Daigle.
She sings, "When You don’t move the mountains I’m needing You to move,
When You don’t part the waters I wish I could walk through,
When You don’t give the answers as I cry out to You,
I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in You!"
I have been singing this song through the entire experience of buying a second home. My husband and I have been working on building our credit and paying off old debts with the prospect of "some day" purchasing house number two. House number one I bought with my ex husband years and years ago and by the grace of God I still own today, (but that's a whole other story of perseverance and faith!). So, fast forward to 2015 when my husband and I found and made an offer on the home of our dreams on a whim! We didn't even know if we would qualify, we didn't know if we could buy without having to sell my first home beforehand, or have it rented, or what have you. We prayed some very fervent prayers and jumped. Everything went so smoothly. We walked through the buying process, passed our home inspection and within forty-five short days stood outside our dream house with keys unable to contain the tears of joy from streaming down our faces. God's grace is so good!
We rushed to get moved in, because, while the bank noted that we could financially afford two homes, in reality we could not! We had to get house number 1 on the market, pronto. We spent evenings and weekends cleaning, painting, begging favors from friends and family to get the house ready to sell. My realtor was so confident that it would sell in a heartbeat. We held our breath through the first, second, and third open houses. We received multiple offers, only to have them fall apart or never materialize after promises from realtors to write up the house. We had given our realtor 30 days to sell the house, otherwise we would have to rent it. Paying two mortgages was not an option. Some of my family scoffed at us, sure we would mess the whole thing up, that we weren't capable of selling a house or finding renters. We persevered and just kept the faith.
God had a plan. He wasn't quick to let us in on his plan, and I did a lot of praying. I clung to the words of that song every time I heard it on the radio. He wasn't moving mountains I needed moved. In the end there was no buyer. Even in a hot sellers market, it wasn't meant to be. I was crushed. We were crushed. We dug in and started the secondary process of readying the house to rent. I put out flyers, and we listed the house for rent. We again spent weekends and evenings once again getting everything ready. We had very little response from possible tenants. At least from tenants we would feel comfortable renting to! One after another we would get our hopes up only to not hear back from a family after showing the house. Or discover the potential tenant had a scary rental history or lack of income needed to rent. It's not your traditional cookie cutter home. But it is an awesome vintage house with great character! How could there not be people out there that would love it as much as we had?
Pray pray pray, that is what I relied on to get me through the days of trying to find a renter. The words of Lauren's song were in my mind daily "When you don't part the waters I wish I could walk through". How desperately I wanted those waters to part and the house to be rented! The first of another month was here, another month of paying two mortgages. We spent that Saturday installing window blinds at the house while trying to simultaneously entertain our children (FUN! NOT!). After only getting through half of the rooms we gave up and went to get lunch, and my phone rang. A possible tenant was standing outside the house and was hoping to see the inside. I begged him off for 10 minutes so we could finish up and get back to meet him. I had been met with so much disappointment already that I did not hold my breath this time. I did not put much faith in this potential renter. I just went through the motions feeling ill not knowing how I'm going to pay the next months bills. This is a dreadfully lonely feeling.
But guess what. The gentleman that met me at the house that day (My husband had taken the kids home) loved the house. I mean LOVED the house. And he was exactly the kind of tenant we had been praying for. Within 2 days I was handing him keys in exchange for his rent and deposits. His other half joined him from out of state a month later and is equally amazing. I now feel extremely blessed to have this couple for renters! We honestly could not have hand picked a better pair. We cried again, but this time it was in relief. Relief that God's grace had carried us through the process. Relief that we would not be strapped with double the bills for another month!.
I still sing Lauren's song. But now I sign it with a smile on my face, and the last line of that verse means the most, "I will trust, I will trust, I will trust in you!"
God does show up. It may not be when we want him to. It may not be with the answer we expected. But he is there, and all along he has a plan. If you just trust. And jump.
Help me make the Rainbow and the Sunset
My three-year-old starts all her prayers with the same sentence; "Help me make the rainbow and the sunset". She does not actually believe she's capable of art in the sky. Out of habit she has merged two thoughts; "Help me" and "Thank you for making the rainbow and the sunset". I think she means to start her prayer with a petition to someone who produces quality. Good place to begin.
Genesis 1:1 In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Genesis 1:27 And God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him, male and female he created them.
My crisis of faith in college centered around those start of it all big questions. Is there a God? Did He create the world? Did He make me? Let me encourage you here. There are solid brain plugged in reasons to stand on those first claims of the Bible. I also believe starting there is key to a life of purpose and joy. When I look around in gratitude at the world in all its beauty I tend to drop my worry and breathe. And when I wonder about how to raise children with a good self esteem I try to start at the beginning. My kids believe God made them on purpose in His image to be creators and peacemakers and caretakers. He created you that way as well.
Such a great start. All good. And then. Chapter 3 of Genesis is the creation that rebels and the heartache that comes after. Most of the time my problems are also because I ignore my maker's instructions. Instructions like forgive. Don't let bitterness take root. Don't be jealous. Don't gossip. Tell the truth. I need help. So did Adam and Eve. Evil entered through the sin of pride and it ramped up quickly. Consequences abound.
Last week the eldest child went off to art camp. She created a Hobbit House. It's super cute. I love the laundry basket. She paid attention to little details and took her time. At the end of camp art show she smiled when I asked which house was hers. She hovered as people peered in the little windows. She called it good.
After the art show she was carefully walking to the car carrying her creation. Despite her attention, a large gust of wind tipped the whole board. The little laundry blew down the street. The tree fell over. It was sad. She hung her head.
When we got home the artist headed to the table, sat down and started to fix her house. Hot glue gun and new tissue paper, moss and twigs sat on our kitchen table. She tenderly sat about restoring her creation.
The entire theme of the book of Genesis can be summed up in this little story from art camp. The heart of an artist is to create and restore. God created. It was good. Rebellion wrecked it. Repeatedly. God set about a grand plan to redeem and restore the creation. Really that's the whole Bible and the whole story of human history but it starts in Genesis.
Genesis is 50 chapters full of sordid stories of human moral failure and God's faithful rescuing. God's plan involves blessing one man, Abraham, and his entire family, the Israelites, in order to save humanity. He hinted early of a promised one coming to rescue the day and that promise was carried forward throughout the narrative. I can't tell you everything - its really better if you read it yourself - but here are a few of my favorite life lessons from Genesis:
Genesis 7: Noah and his family and all the animals are tucked into the ark. I love Genesis 7:16 "And those that entered, male and female of all flesh, entered as God had commanded and the Lord closed it behind him."
The family and the future of the world is inside. Storm is outside. Death and destruction headed their way. And the Lord closed the door behind them. Sometimes God shuts a door to protect you from the storm outside.
Genesis 13 and Genesis 18-19 Abraham and Lot. Abraham is Lot's uncle. They are traveling together. Between the two of them they own entirely too many sheep. Not enough grass. Abraham tells Lot to pick where he wants to live - they are family after all - family shouldn't fight about stuff. So Lot looks around and picks the best land for himself. Fancy end of town. Turns out he's right by Sodom and Gomorrah. Nasty violent place. Fire from the sky demolishes the city and Lot's wife is turned into a pillar of salt. (Sidebar - I read one commentary that said she likely died and a sand storm covered her body - I don't know about all that, pillar of salt sounds scarier). Goodness. Selfishness is a sure way to put yourself in danger.
Genesis 15: God takes his chosen person, Abram, out to a field late at night and tells him to consider the stars. God promises that Abram's descendants will be as numerous as the stars. Genesis 15:6 Then he believed in the Lord; and He reckoned it to him as righteousness. Abram is a mess of a person. He's fearful and worried and unfaithful and his weakness allows people to be hurt. And yet, God credited him as faithful because he believed that God would do what God said he would do. God does the heavy lifting.
Genesis 16: Sarah . Oh Sarah dear. This woman has a problem with patience. She has a problem with trust. She worries that God forgot his promise. She thinks that she can fix her own problems. Sarah tells her husband to have a child with Hagar, her maid. And like I frequently do when I try to control - Sarah makes her problems worse. God's plan unfolds in his time much cleaner if I stay out of the way.
Genesis 21: Hagar. This woman is Sarah's maid and Abraham's concubine. Trapped between two people and worried for her son, Ishmael. Hagar runs away. Twice. I love that God sees this forgotten and marginalized woman. He finds her, feeds her, cares for her and promises her a future. God sees people in pain.
Genesis 22: The sacrifice of Isaac. This is one of the hardest stories in the Bible. God tells Abraham to take his son and kill him in a sacrifice to God. Abraham takes action to obey. At the last minute, God stops him and provides a ram for the sacrifice. Such a hard story. My mother heart recoils. I have heard lots of sermons that say the message is about not having anything I hold tighter to than God - including my children. But I wonder if this story is partly to make me recognize the pain of the sacrifice. God did with his son, Jesus, what he never required of anyone else.
Genesis 25: Jacob and Esau. First born Esau. Set to inherit big time. Sneaky little brother Jacob. Esau is out hunting and Jacob is home making stew. Esau comes home hungry. Jacob offers to give him a bowl of stew in exchange for his entire inheritance. Esau says yes. Really dumb move. How about you don't sell out your future for 5 minutes of pleasure?
Genesis 37 - 50; Joseph's grand epic story. Twelve brothers. Joseph's the baby. Joseph's dad likes him the best. Really never a good idea. Brothers sell him into slavery, tell the dad he died. Joseph gets the rawest deal in history because he's then set up by the unfaithful wife of his boss and off to prison he goes. And then the greatest underdog comeback in history and Joseph is promoted to being second in command for the entire country. His brothers show up begging for help because of a great famine. Greatest shock in history when he reveals his identity. The brothers are terrified that Joseph is going to exact revenge. And this verse. This verse gets me. Genesis 50: 20 And as for you, you meant evil against me, but God meant it for good in order to bring about this present result, to preserve many people alive. God has a plan to bring great beauty out of pain.
Genesis is full of stories that all point to the need of humanity and the grace of the Father. Rachel and Rebekah. Judah and Benjamin. Cain and Able. Anger and Forgiveness. Destruction and Redemption. Genesis. He made the rainbow and the sunset. He intends to help us.
I absolutely love the YouTube series Read Scripture. When someone pointed these out to me I briefly thought about not writing anything but posting a link to these videos and calling it good. If you've never read Genesis or if you have a hard time tying it all together these two videos are worth your time.
I also love these infographics from New Spring Church. Quick and useful. I'll be keeping them all pinned up on the Quirky Faith Pinterest board.
I love the Francine River's book Lineage of Grace. Here is a link to one of the novellas included in that book about one of the hard stories in Genesis. Read it and learn about Tamar.
My husband and I were just talking about the sad events of the last week. I mentioned that somone was in custody from the shootings in Dallas. My ten-year-old overheard the word custody.
Mom, did they catch the guy who burnt the churches?
No, not yet.
Oh, was it the terrorists? Did they catch the terrorists?
Um. No, that was something else.
Wow. There are a lot of them running around loose right now.
And she went back to reading her book.
Yes. Yes my dear. There are lots of people right now caught up in all kinds of anger and hate.
Honestly part of me wants to rail and yell and kick and write snarky comments on posts that don't line up with my personal talking points. I am mad that my children know about arson and terror and snipers and racism. I'm depressed that my daughter took it all in stride. What kind of world are we living in that a ten-year-old is momentarily sad but not at all shocked at the news?
Mostly I'm heartbroken for the moms this week having to tell childen that their father is not coming home. I do not presume to know what those mother's are going through. I don't know what it is like to send my spouse to work in a uniform that could get him killed. And I have never had to talk to my girls about how to deal with the people who judge them based on the color of their skin. Since I do not know I am not going to say how they should respond.
However. I do know that in total my anger makes the world worse. When I yell or honk or snap - others around me spiral that direction. I really don't want to raise kids that make the world worse. And so as simplistic as it sounds I choose love.
I am going to hug my children. I am going to tell them about Martin Luther King Jr. and Ghandi and Mother Theresa. About how the world changed because they refused to hate. I am going to read them the words of Jesus about loving your enemies and visiting those in jail and respecting the authorities. I am going to deliver cookies. Never underestimate the power of cookies. I am going to thank anyone I see in uniform. I am going to forgive those who hurt me even when its repeated. I am going to pray. I am going to stand in my neighborhood and speak up when people are hurt or hurting. I am going to listen respectfully when I don't agree. I am going to assume the best and smile at strangers.
What about you? Better or worse? The ten-year-olds are listening.
The Wall of Faith will be a weekly feature here at Quirky Faith. My goal is to gather lots of your stories so that we can encourage each other. If you have a story or an idea please send me a note on the contact page. This week I'm thrilled to share a post from my good friend Jennifer. This lovely lady makes me laugh. Enjoy.
Laughter in the Midst of the Sprinklers
Our Liberty Bible church family received a shock a short while ago. We had just picked up our little ones Wednesday evening to discover the following morning that a Molotov cocktail bomb had been thrown through the nursery window at 3AM , starting a fire. Thankfully, our sprinkler system responded quickly and efficiently dowsing the fire. However, it did cause a lot of water damage in about half of the lower level, which happened to have been just newly constructed a couple years ago.
My first reaction was shock.To think that it happened in the same section where our four-year-old son had just been frightened me to death. Then came anger, sadness, fear, you name it.
I have become known for is posting humorous memes on Facebook. What began as just a personal therapy to me has become a ministry to others. People would come up to me and ask me to keep posting these. They would tell me how it always brightened their day and I discovered many would actively look for these posts daily.
However, after posting about the fire, I hesitated to post anything funny for awhile. I didn’t want to come across as uncaring or unconcerned. Then I began to think about my church family. Surely they were going through the same feelings I had. This was a rough day for us all! I then decided it was time for a happiness break and began to post a funny meme or two. The response was positive and I knew I had made the right choice.
I wondered how service would be like that following Sunday. Would there be a feeling of sadness or heaviness? I have never been as proud of my church as I was that Sunday. Liberty Bible people have this wonderful stubbornness and resolve in the face of adversity. Praise and worship was full of celebration of how God had protected us. How things could have been so much worse than they were. The focus? Let’s keep moving forward. To reiterate what our teenage son had texted the day of the incident. “Well, we can’t let that stop us now, can we?” Forgiveness for the perpetrator and hope for their salvation was expressed. As Pastor Larry said, “Bitterness is a poison in which you swallow in hopes that it will harm someone else.”
However, the part that blessed me the most was how my church family was able to find humor in the midst of it all. They could still find the pony in the midst of all the manure, if you will. I loved how our Praise and Worship Pastor got so tickled that now we were temporarily back to our original size foyer. The rest of our foyer was taped off with Caution tape and plastic and the whirr of shopvacs hummed from the other side.
We laughed as Pastor told of arriving at the scene and being told by a police officer to remain in his car. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Why would you have me come all the way here just to remain in my car?” …. “Well Sir. We have several canine units running around on the grounds now and…”….. “No problem! I’ll stay in my car.”
Proverbs 17:22 states, “Laughter does good like a medicine.” Why? Laughter provides healing. Laughter works the muscles releasing stress and causing them to relax. It also releases infection fighting anti-bodies. Studies have shown people have been healed of terminal illnesses by a steady diet of comedy movies, jokes, and humorous stories.
Our church family had been wounded by an event we had no control over. We were shaken and the laughter provided healing.
Laughter puts things into perspective. It reminds us of how short life is and to not wallow in the “heavies” forever. It provides us the second wind to get through the heavies, clear our minds, and heal our hearts. It reminds us that God is tougher than the toughest of times in our lives and His shoulders are strong enough to carry us through when we feel wounded, scared, or helpless.
I thank God for God! I thank Him for His protection! I thank Him for His Word! I truly believe that all the scriptures and prayers we wrote on the beams and plywood before sheet rocking created a shield of protection from the fire getting out of control. I thank Him that the church is us having each other and we were together! Unharmed! It’s not a building. I thank Him for His medicinal gift of laughter to us when the fire hits and the water pours. What a beautiful, delightful gift!
My ten year old went to art camp last week. The camp is taught by a crazy talented woman I've known my entire life. As children we stood together on the stage after camp and sang "The B I B L E. Yes, That's the Book for me" and a goofy song about how "the life of a frog is not very cool because frogs don't get to go to Sunday School". It stuck with me.
Last night we went to the art show. It was held in a great old warehouse downtown. Tall white walls, apple juice and cookies. My favorite project was the self portrait cartoon. Cheerful. Nice study in proportion. The girl with the pink tutu makes me grin.
I love my daughter's project. The big blue eyes and cheerful freckles are a good nod to her spunky personality. The wide smile is either a good indicator that she's a happy person or it is a self aware reflection that like her mama she does not ever stop talking.
Her photo has more depth and detail than the portrait. But if you really want to get to know my daughter you are going to have to share a cup of tea with her, stay up late giggling in the night, ask her about how to cartwheel and spend some time watching Star Wars and painting. Really if you know her, the art is more fun. A big circle of knowing.
That circle of knowing gives a good way to introduce one of the features here at Quirky Faith. Every Monday "That's the Book" will be a post reviewing a different book of the Bible. My blog post should function like my daughter's cartoon portrait. Fun and cheerful and big picture. I'm hoping it makes you want to read the actual book. And the whole point of the Bible is to have a tool to get to know God.
The Bible is actually a collection of 66 books written over 1500 years by roughly 40 different people all inspired by God. I've thought a lot about what this book means to me and why I care that other people know it. I am not a Bible scholar. There are many qualified teachers and preachers who can break down the Greek and Hebrew and give you the doctrinal truth better than me. I'll try to let you know where to find them as we go.
But I am passionate about sharing with you how I see the Bible. Not in a "chase you down the street let me beat you with this weapon" kind of way. More like "Hey! Oh my goodness! All my good friends; did you hear that the gourmet restaurant down the street is giving away free coffee and chocolate and pasta and all we have to do is show up so come with me right now and let's go eat!" After all, the Bible is the Bread of Life.
So come along. Next Monday. Fun like camp. I'm hoping it sticks with you. That's the Book.
I posted this originally five years ago. Reading it today reminds me that I am older. I might be a tad more protective of my kiddos this year but I still really love that peanut salad and freedom. Keep the extra regulations. Give me freedom. So today - eat well, hug your friends and family and say thank you to anyone who has served in the military for freedom is never free.
My daughter is currently tucked into bed beside me. She's snoring. When my husband gets home tonight he'll carry her downstairs and tuck her into her own bed. In the mean time, I'm enjoying listening to her.
I'm also mentally unpacking the Fourth of July.
We started the day by running two miles and then walking a mile long parade route. This was good because in the afternoon just about all I did was eat. The resident chef makes these amazing peanut, cilantro and onion noodles. I think I had four servings. I had potato salad and macaroni salad. They were both homemade so of course I had to have seconds. I had a piece of Rhubarb pie. Tart! Yum! I had chips and salsa. It was made with red, green and yellow peppers with lots of onion. I had chicken, one thigh smoked and one leg grilled. I had lettuce wraps. Those have lettuce so those probably don't count on any sort of calorie chart. I had summer pasta with orange slices. That has fruit so that really doesn't count either. I only had a couple of pieces of licorice.
My daughter smelled like sunscreen. She spent most of the day alternating between a kiddy pool and a slip-n-slide. The kids were finally talked out of their swimsuits and into warmer clothes. The sunscreen and pool water maintained a stronghold in their hair. My sister reminded me that when we were kids we had a slip and slide at Grandma's house. Grandma made it out of black garbage sacks. She held them in place with bricks. Added water and a squirt of dish wash liquid and we were set. The danger of sliding too fast and skidding over bricks just added to the fun.
My husband smelled like fuses and fire. We lined the children up at the end of the day and watched the big kids - er - our husbands blow stuff up. Several times we moved the kids back a few feet. At one point one of the fireworks fell over and started randomly shooting sparks at our kids. The kids stood there. The parents all shouted. We ran and dodged and grabbed. No one got hurt.
Later, one little guy said his favorite part of the night was when the fireworks were shooting at them. I smiled. I worry sometimes that we bubble wrap our kid's lives too much. Clearly not on this day though. That might be one of the reasons I love the Fourth of July. It's about celebrating freedom. I'll take the risk of danger every day if you'll give me more freedom.
Welcome to Quirky Faith. I'm Mindy. While it is accurate to say I'm a Christian I don't typically introduce myself as such. People expect Christians to be mad or judgmental or scared. I'd rather be unexpected. Fun and goofy. Faithful and joyful and full of hope. Quirky. Mostly I have this crazy notion that God built me as an encourager and He expects me to get on with the job.
I grew up in a Christian home. Dad, Mom, Me, little sister. Dog that kept running away. Church Sunday morning, Sunday night, Wednesday, Bible study. Sounds boring, I know. It wasn't. My mother has eyes that sparkle with fun ideas and my Dad always says yes. And church. Wowsa. Seriously good fun at the potlucks, parades, camp, Vacation Bible School, mission trips. You name it. We did all of it. I prayed a classic prayer of salvation as a three year old and marched forward with confidence in Jesus.
Then I went to college.
And wondered aloud if it was all true.
My wise mother told me she understood. She told me to read, and talk and figure out what I believed. She advised that I not do anything I'd regret if it turned out I was all in. She prayed.
So I paused before jumping ship and I watched.
Mostly I watched my aunt. I watched as she got news that her husband had cancer. I watched as she received word that her 7 year old had leukemia. I watched as she walked through hospitals and hair loss and bone marrow transplants and two funerals and widowhood. And I watched as God and grace and hope and love and laughter were still there. The whole time.
So I prayed a messy sobbing and honest prayer and said to Jesus that I'd love to follow along if He'd still have me. I wonder sometimes where I'd be if my aunt had given up, gone bitter, angry or scared. I'm grateful she didn't. Angry, scared and bitter are not good tools for building a life. Or a church. Or a nation.
If you aren't a believer but you are curious feel free to come on in and watch like I did. Or join in and ask all those questions about things that church people say and do. In fact, I'd love it if you would email me questions - big ones or small. You certainly won't see perfect. But I'm hoping you'll see grace. Lots of grace.
If you are a part of my faith family - Come along. Be encouraged.
Time for some quality control. Send me an email if you find any typos. In fact, I'll make it a contest. First one to email me with a typo to fix gets a coffee on me. As in I'll buy you a coffee. Actual coffee dumped on me is a regular occurence already, we don't need more.
UPDATE: Goodness. My friend Sarah is a speedy editor. She wins coffee! Keep sending my typos and I'll keep buying coffee.
I love Jesus. I think my two daughters can change the world. I think you can too.
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