August 31

I'll admit it: I'm prone to missing those lighthearted moments that pop up throughout the day. I'm generally fairly focused, hopping from one activity to the next, so it's easy to skim over the silliness and keep it all business, so to speak. But I couldn't possibly have missed this.

As we got out of the car to attend a playground play date this morning, Brady squirreled off to the front seat after I'd closed my door, ferreted back to his seat, and then out his own door. I have a vague recollection of him telling me that BearBear was going to drive the car somewhere, but honestly, I wasn't pay much attention, so I quickly forgot his words.

So I was taken aback --and honestly, pretty amused-- when we got back into the car to head home and I found Brady's buddy just like this. I laughed aloud, and Brady grinned and reminded me that BearBear had wanted to drive the car.

Just a stitch in time, but a funny stitch in time, and one that even further endeared both BearBear (and my Muffin, if that's even possible) to my heart.

August 30

Brady took a tumble during today's evening walk. He and Isaac were just running along on the sidewalk together, laughing and having a good time, when he tripped on a rock and took a near-header into the concrete. The tears came and Adam quickly scooped him up to give a once-over and offer up some parental support. He was okay, fortunately: nothing broken and no bloodshed. And then just a few short minutes later, he was back on the ground, once again bobbing and weaving along with his brother and taking a couple of goofy pictures on the usual bench.

My heart ached over his sadness, but marveled over his resilience. Kids are pretty amazing in that way: they can fall down, scrape a knee, cry, and then just a few minutes later, act like absolutely nothing went wrong in the first place. I think we almost lose some of that comeback-ability as we age; or maybe it's just that we become jaded and don't bother trying to be resilient anymore. I don't know. But I know that I'm thankful to be reminded that we can overcome whatever is thrown our way... if we believe we can and really want to do so. And we can most definitely turn lemons into lemonade -- or even better, let God do it for us.

August 29

I'm not sure what's blooming right now that wasn't blooming last week, but whatever it is most definitely does not agree with my system. Not one little bit.

This is my seasonal buddy Flonase, who hangs out with me quite a lot between September and, oh, May or June. I don't spend much time thinking about the blessing of modern conveniences and medications --especially when I'm coming off my sole allergy-light season-- but I'm feeling a sense of gratitude for both right now as I sit in my air conditioner-cooled family room waiting for my meds to kick in.

So yeah: feeling blessed to have access to both of those conveniences, and thankful that God gave ordinary folks the intelligence to think them up in the first place.

August 28

The temperature topped 100 degrees again today, but by the time I headed out for my evening walk --joined by Abby for the first time in quite a while-- the air had lost much of its heaviness and a gentle breeze rustled the trees.

We had a grand time laughing and joking as we strolled along. She brought her Fur Real Pet bunny along, and much of our conversation involved that funny little creature. As we walked, I found my gaze drawn to that big, round moon.

Abby noticed it too, and asked if there was something special about it, just because it looked so vibrant and full. I told her that I didn't know, and later discovered that she was right: tomorrow's skies are supposed to play host to a supermoon.

I guess I don't really have a central point, other than to say that it was a blessing to walk and joke with my girl. It was a blessing to hear her laugh so heartily that it took her breath away. And it was a blessing to see that huge moon overhead, reflecting the light of the sun with such brilliance. All very good things indeed.

August 27

After drop-off today, I took Brady to a local park. It was supposed to be a near-triple digit day, so I wanted him to get some outside-time before the mercury rose too much. Fortunately, he was on board with the idea.

As we approached the playground, a small tot lot not far from Abby's school, I noticed that they'd put in new equipment, so though we'd been there before, it was like an entirely new experience for my muffin.

He went down the slide and swung on a swing and boarded a dinosaur's back and crossed a bridge. He especially loved the 'spinny seat' and getting his exercise, which involved him repeatedly running toward and up the slide. He did a lot, and when the time came to go, he asked if we could go back again tomorrow. He played with such genuine enthusiasm that it made my heart swell with happiness.

I love watching him be little. He, of course, gets on my nerves at times with his perpetual questions and his seemingly neverending commentary on everything, but watching him be a normal four-year old and experience the world in a normal four-year old's way is an amazing thing.

August 26

For an hour or so this afternoon, my stomach felt off. So while Brady busied himself with The Lego Movie video game, I stretched out on the couch with the cat. After she'd fallen asleep, I looked over at her and noticed that she'd positioned herself in rather hilarious fashion.

Note the Lego tower that one of the kids constructed with the minifigure dude on the roof, leaning over like he's checking her out. Then there's the guy by her tail and the one under her front paw. I was amused by the scene --Giant Cat Takes Control of Lego City!-- so I added the dude to her back.

Even though I didn't feel the best, I chuckled over the silliness of it all. The lighter side of life --especially given how much darkness has swirled around the world in recent times-- is a blessing indeed.

August 25

First day of school: check! And from all appearances, it was a good day for all involved.

While Brady and I enjoyed a moms' gathering at a local eatery, Isaac embarked upon his second grade year and Abby took her first steps as a middle schooler. I won't lie: I was super-de-duper nervous for Abby. She started off the day very, very nervous, which meant she was extra snippety with everyone. I prayed for her probably every half-hour; that she'd feel peace, that she'd find her classes, that she'd be comfortable. I could ramble on and on, but I'll get down to the blessing highlights.

When the dismissal bell rang at stop number one --the elementary school-- Isaac quickly appeared and greeted me with a hug. When I asked how his day was, he responded with an exceedingly cheerful "good!" and then told me snippets from his time in the classroom. Almost none of his good friends are in his class, but hearing him talk so contentedly about his day put my heart at ease. It broke my heart a little when he said he ate lunch alone, but he was so okay with it that I was blown away by his confidence.

Then... Abby. After a failed attempt to wait for her in the very crowded pick-up lane, I parked on a nearby street and walked the boys over to the front of the school to wait. After the bell rang, she turned up relatively quickly, and didn't look angry when she realized I was there with her brothers in tow. (Blessing number one.) Then, she actually told me a lot about her day. And I didn't even have to wheedle the information out of her -- she offered it up. Wow. (Blessing number two.) Then as we approached the car, I saw Barbara, our friend from church, standing on the sidewalk waiting for us. She said she recognized our car, and wanted to make sure that we knew which house was hers in case I'm ever running late and Abby needs someplace to go. (Blessing number three.) And that whole exchange was a God thing: I parked almost directly in front of her house without knowing it was her house. (Blessing number four.)

So yeah: a good day. And good days are always brimming with God winks.

August 24

The last day of summer vacation. I'd like to say that we did something super fun, but the reality is that until 10:30 AM or so, everyone pretty much looked like this:

Sacked out on the couch, wearing PJs, watching TV. (I may not be pictured, but you'd better believe I was right there with 'em.)

The summer has been a blessing to me. The kiddos got along (most of the time), enjoyed each other's company (again, most of the time), and stayed out of my hair when I had tasks I needed to accomplish. It was fun having them around 24/7.

Now tomorrow, we're on to second grade and middle school. (Brady doesn't start Pre-K until after Labor Day; his schedule is actually sane.) I've been extra emotional lately, thinking about Abby taking such a big next step and worrying over how she'll like it and wondering if the kids will be nice to her and if she'll adapt easily or have a hard time. I don't like not knowing what will happen.

And of course, I've been thinking of Logan and how he should be starting fourth grade. As I do every year, I wonder who his friends would be and who his teacher would be and what his first-day-of-school outfit would look like and if he'd want a peanut butter sandwich or something else for lunch. So many questions with no answers. I can make them up; I can imagine who he'd be and what he'd do, but of course, it's not real. And that truth hurts more than usual this time of year.

But still, I remain thankful, and my prayer for my kids is a terrific new year filled with blessings and good surprises.

August 23

Since school starts Tuesday, I wanted today to be chill, so we did our usual Sunday thing: went to church, watered Logan's flowers, and came home. Then after dinner, we went for a family walk. There was nothing special about any of it, but it was perfect.

At one point, Abby came and plunked down next to me on the couch. We both sat holding our respective laptops and chatting about nothing in particular. Then a little later, the cat --the only other female in the house-- joined us.

So here we are: just us girls. Our little family's sisterhood. As a sister-less woman myself, it's a blessing indeed to be part of a sisterhood with my sister-less daughter and my sister-less kitty.

August 22

I decided that today would be a good day to buy the last of Abby's school supplies, so I headed off to Walmart. I battled the crowd and actually found most of what I needed rather quickly. And then I hit a wall: I could NOT, for the life of me, find the erasable ball point pens. Honestly, I didn't even know they made the things anymore, and apparently they're not a priority for Walmart, because I just.could.not.find.them. After flitting from aisle to aisle, I finally, stopped, closed my eyes, and prayed. I said God, please show me where I can find these darn things because I'm losing it! And then believe it or not, I opened my eyes, and they were right there in front of me.

I felt a wave of relief wash over me (well, until I saw how much they cost; then I didn't feel so good) and smiled. Then I paid and headed out.

It's amazing how God answers the tiniest, silliest prayers so handily, isn't it?

August 21

The kids go back to class on Tuesday, so Abby and I did a little back-to-school shopping this afternoon. At our final stop, I did my usual car-aisle check and wow, was I blown away by what I found.

There was one new Pixar car, but there was also so. Many. Corvettes. Abby initially picked up one and asked if we already had it; I took a glance and said that I didn't think so. Then I looked closer, and Logan's favorite kind of car was everywhere. And stranger still, they were lined up like they are in the picture, one next to the other.

It's like he was right there, saying 'hi! I may not be going to school next week, but I'm still around!'

It was a beautiful sight.

August 20

I walked at dusk tonight. Surrounded by markedly cooler evening air and the wind that rustled the leaves above, it dawned on me that fall is just around the corner. Already! I quietly asked for something along my path to speak to me in some way, and I came across this:

It's just a cute little LED light in someone's yard, but I love the way the rays fan across the grass. It's like a beautiful sunburst. And a reminder that even in the darkness, the sun (and the Son) still shines.

And you all know how much I treasure my Sunshine.

August 19

This will no doubt sound melodramatic, but today nearly pushed me to the brink.

I was victimized by a particularly cruel hacker this morning. Said person locked me out of my email account and impersonated me (using VERY bad grammar, much to my chagrin) to send out scam messages to my entire contact list (sorry about that) during the wee hours of the morning. And then he deleted my blogs; this one as well as the one that chronicles Logan's entire illness. I was sad about being hacked, but losing my precious blogs pushed me into panic mode. I filled out the recovery form and my brother, thankfully, was able to provide some pretty clutch info (thanks Charlie). But I still spent the entire day panicked over whether or not I'd see those entries again. Adam and I both scoured the internet, saving as many cached pages as we could find, but of course, we couldn't find every one, and my heart was sad. I've poured my everything into these blogs over the past five years and they mean so much to us. More than I know how to express with mere words.

I struggled all day long with faith. Even though I knew that the data was still floating around somewhere, I had a hard time believing it would be restored to me. After all, the last time I had great faith that something would work out, it didn't: we had to let Logan go. And potentially losing his blog made me feel like I'd failed him yet again. It may not make a lot of logical sense, but I don't think I've cried like I cried today since the early months after we lost him. The potential loss brought back so much pain.

But thanks to a friend who put me in touch with someone in-the-know, and of course, God's provision, I was able to get back into my account this evening. So here I am. And (at long last) here's today's message.

Part of being me is feeling alone. I look at others and think 'wow, she sure has a lot of friends' and then automatically assume there's something wrong with me that keeps me from being loved. But today, when I was operating in crisis mode, so many friends reached out to me to try to help and to offer up words of advice or encouragement. The support was both overwhelming and humbling. And as a bonus, I even got a text from a very old friend with whom I'd lost touch, asking if I knew I'd been hacked! It led to a brief conversation, during which I learned that she's living very close to my hometown. And voila, we just might be able to see her during our Christmas travels. Lemons out of lemonade; as I wrote on Facebook earlier, God makes the absolute best lemonade, and unexpectedly hearing from my friend --even under the circumstances in play-- was certainly sweet.

So to every single person who reached out to me today: thank you. Whether or not you believe, God used you to help keep me sane, and every single one of you helped to make my very challenging day so much better. This Michael W. Smith song I used to listen to during my younger days came to mind as I thought of you: Thank you for throwing me a line and for helping me to scoop the water out of my hole-y sailboat. You're amazing and I'm blessed beyond measure to have all of you in my life.

August 18

I registered Isaac for second grade this morning and then drove to Starbucks for some delicious vanilla iced coffee. After I'd pulled into a space and cut the engine, I unbuckled my belt and turned to tell the Little Boys to unfasten themselves so we could get out. I was startled when I saw these two --in shockingly close proximity to my face-- grinning back at me.

My heart swelled with affection for them. All they had to do was unbuckle themselves and smile at me, and I was a goner.

I feel fortunate to be able to watch them grow and learn and love. I feel fortunate that they can fill my heart with joy by doing the simplest of things; the things that so many people don't even notice. And I feel fortunate that though I can't have the one thing I long for every single day --to see and hug and talk with my Logan-- I can see shades of him in the two of them (and in Abby).

August 17

Today is our 13th wedding anniversary, so tonight, we actually got a baby-sitter and went out to dinner.

Recent years really haven't been easy for us. I know that all relationships face difficult situations at times, and I sincerely hope I'm not speaking out of turn here, but I think that losing a child is easily one of the biggest challenges that a couple can face. Such a loss changes you in deep, profound ways, so much so that you almost need to learn how to breathe all over again. And learning how to breathe on your own while trying to help others around you learn how to breathe... it's complicated. Difficult and complicated.

But I've been blessed with a great person to walk with me along the path, and I'm thankful for him and for the family we've built together. Our journey has been imperfect, but we've gotten through it together and I've seen God move in and through him throughout the years.

Happy anniversary, hunny.

August 16

The temperature climbed into the 100s again today, so we spent much of it inside after church this morning. I didn't do much; just watched a made for TV movie, wrote a few articles, and caught up on my "Dancing with the Stars" rumor mill action. Then this evening, I took a quick trip to the store to get a few things. When I got home, I looked up at the sky and saw this:

You have to look pretty closely to see, but they're the kind of clouds that look like monster truck tire tracks. Whenever I see them, I envision Logan tooling around in Heaven in his own flame job-emblazoned rig.

And the idea makes me smile, even if it is a wee bit silly.

August 15

Abby will turn 11 in a few months, and sometimes, her behavior drives me nuts. She can go from ranting and raving one minute to calm and cheerful the next, and on any given day, I'm never sure which way the wind will blow first. But all in all, she's a good girl and I'm proud of who she is.

As we walked from the car to our usual Saturday lunch today, she strolled along beside me, gabbing idly on a few different topics. At one point, she remarked that she'd tied her hair up and wondered how it looked. Then we went inside, ordered, and the kiddos worked on their coloring pages. She created a scene featuring forest animals and happily told me all about it.

Is there a big lesson here? No. But I'm always thankful for the good days, and saying it out loud and giving audible thanks for the good things... never a bad thing.

August 14

We left San Diego this morning and drove home. It was a mostly uneventful trip back up the 5, and despite the increase in temperature, the skies were much clearer than they were on Sunday when we made the drive down, which made the scenery decidedly more beautiful.

No unique observation to share today; just an obvious one that often comes to mind for me: God's natural creations are so lovely. As we drove along the Grapevine, I was struck by the majesty of the mountains. Even though the terrain is largely dry and brown, it's still very pretty, and I'm thankful that I get the chance to see it.

August 13

Today marked the last official day of our trip to San Diego, and we spent it --once again-- at Legoland, from (more or less) open to close. And once again, we rode rides and made memories together. We solidified the newfound knowledge that Abby, Isaac, and Brady all like roller coasters (even though they typically pretend they don't and act fearful prior to boarding) and that all of them are pretty good kid-drivers. Brady in particular did an excellent job of artfully evading the every move of an especially feisty and aggressive little girl who didn't seem to want anyone to pass her car! (I suppose we could all learn from that one, huh?) Anyhow, today's wink comes from the dinner hour (which wound up being at about 9:30).

After leaving the park, we swung through an In N Out drive thru and brought our food back to our hotel suite. After the kiddos changed into their pjs, they sat at the kitchen counter and ate (and horsed around). As I watched them, I felt a strong sense of, oh, I don't know: right-ness, I guess it was, that prompted me to retrieve both Lambie and my phone from the bedroom so I could take this photo.

Them, hanging out, laughing about nonsensical stuff, being silly when I asked them to smile for me... it's really a lot of the sweetest things about childhood all wrapped up into a relatively short moment. I think it's important to savor those moments, even if they strike at 9:30 PM and you just want to go to bed. Blessings they are indeed.

August 12

I learned a few things today while at Legoland. One, Brady is a surprisingly good driver. He can navigate around road hazards and accelerate and stop when appropriate. In hindsight, knowing how much he reminds me of Logan at times, I'm not sure why it this surprised me, but it did. Two, for the most part, the kids are all energized by fast rides. Three, when Adam knows there's a camera snapping a photo during a ride, he goes all out to make ridiculous gestures. Four, Dairy Queen probably isn't the best place to stop for dinner at 9 PM (ice cream? Sure! And oh, the laughter). And five, I re-learned --for the millionth time-- to be alert for those blink-or-you'll-miss-'em winks. Like this one.

We'd just gotten off a gentle little helicopter ride when I glanced over and saw Lambie's lookalike laying on a nearby seat. I don't know where his kid was or what he was doing there, but the sight of that soft blue lamb made me smile. It was almost like in that moment, Logan was smiling at us from afar.

August 11

Today, we went to SeaWorld, where we got very (very) wet in the soak zone of the dolphin show, got wet again on the Journey to Atlantis ride (which, incidentally, produced a pretty epic photo that perfectly encapsulated how we each felt about the ride in a singular frame of genius), petted aquatic animals (Abby was especially pleased by the little sharks and Adam's hand was particularly popular with the cleaner fish), got wet again, and saw more animals and shows. I have many, many photos that I could use, but I went with this one for a few different reasons.

First off, they all look happy. Genuinely relaxed and happy. It was after lunchtime, so they all had full bellies and were toting their Shamu cups as we stood in line for the Shipwreck Rapids ride (and of course, they were excited to get wet. Again). I like it because Brady is, as he often does of late, making the "I love you" sign. Logan's sign.

I also like it because all day long, I kept hearing parents calling out the name "Logan," and as we waited, I noticed the kid in front of us, who was maybe a wee bit older than Isaac, who appeared to be a lone rider. Long story short, he wound up riding in our boat, and he narrated the entire ride, which was hilarious. No, wasn't Logan. But in that moment, it felt like he was there with us, riding an amusement park attraction while acting like a goofy kid without a care in the world.

I don't know how I feel about that, to be honest. I wish it were him. I wish he'd been there with us and I wish he were in the photos I took, goofing off with his sister and brothers. But given that today marked precisely 3 1/2 years since Logan's trip Homeward, I'll take all of the nice little random reminders that come my way.

August 10

Today's big planned activity was a visit to the San Diego Zoo. The kids and I had never been, and Adam's last visit was some time ago, so it was kind of "new" to all of us.

So we spent the better part of the (beautiful) day wandering around the zoo checking out the many, many animals that call it their home. I really liked the giraffe exhibit (because wow, they're so close!) while Brady, being the great lover of Bear-Bear, liked the bears, Abby liked the pandas, and Isaac appreciated the lion (who is, incidentally, pictured in my collage because when I saw his face in this image, it made me think of "The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe" and it almost gave me goosebumps when I considered the story. So regal. So much depth in those eyes gazing Heavenward). Memories were made.

Then this evening, in the interest of making sure everyone was good and tired, we went bowling. It proved an amusing experience, as Brady silently declared himself the great comforter and offered up hugs to everyone who missed knocking down all the pins (which happened quite often). So there were many hugs and even a few victory dances.

A good day. A very good day, and a very blessed one indeed. I could try to find God in a single moment --and indeed I kind of think I did with the reference to Aslan-- but I don't want to overlook the smaller ones that mean so much. So there ya go.

August 9

You know what's super? When you say "okay, God, please take care of this and make it work out the way you want it to work out" and then the situation goes exactly how you were hoping it would go -- in a totally perfect world. That kind of circumstance has been something of a rarity in my lifetime, but this evening I had one of those great experiences.

With just a few weeks until school starts, we finally got around to going on vacation, and drove down to San Diego today. After checking into our hotel at about 5, we decided to let the kids take a dip in the pool and then headed to the coast to catch the sunset over the ocean. I had no idea if it would work out; the beach at La Jolla Shores was literally packed with people and the streets were lined with cars. But as we drove along, I silently asked God to do whatever He wanted to do and help me to be okay with whatever that was. I wanted to see that sunset, but I also didn't want to feel frustrated.

As it happened, we would up finding a parking spot literally right across the street from an entrance to the beach. We got out onto the sand and walked a ways before settling on a spot to set up shop. Abby and I wandered down to the water for a few minutes while the boys all stayed further up the beach, digging in the sand and laughing.

And when the sun set a little while later, it was a beautiful sight to behold.

And miraculously, we even managed to take a decent selfie featuring no crazy faces and an actual view of the sunset behind us.

I know life doesn't always go the way we want it to. I know that much too well, I think. But it's such a huge blessing when we give our circumstances and worries up to God and He responds by delivering a pristine experience that's even better than we'd imagined possible.

August 8

During our walk this evening, we did as we often do and stopped per the kids' request to take some pictures. After a minute or two, Adam and Brady continued along the way. I started to follow suit until I heard Isaac behind me, quietly complaining that no one had taken his photo. As I rectified the situation, Isaac put an arm around Abby and she did something that surprised me: she smiled.

It's pretty simple, but I love it when they get along. It doesn't always work out that way so I definitely cherish the moments when they act like friends instead of mortal enemies.

Love is, after all, the root of everything good, and to see them showing care for one another is a huge blessing.

August 7

It was a quiet day here, for the most part. This afternoon, I rounded up the kiddos and we headed to Safeway to pick up a few things, and then I stopped by the Starbucks for some iced coffee (also known as my summertime vice).

After I placed my order and the kids placed theirs --I tell them they can have ice waters, as long as they order for themselves, which they do!-- they plunked down at the bar to watch the baristas at work. And I stood back and watched them observe. It's fun to see them learning and listening to them whisper things like "hey, what's he putting in that cup?" and "look! I think that's our water". Simple. But a sweet blessing to see and hear nonetheless.

August 6

The sky this evening was beautiful. While I walked, I watched as the light changed; as the position of the earth altered the way that the sun's rays illuminated the clouds.

As the sun slipped further and further from sight, I found myself drawn to the back-lit clouds lingering in the sky. They served as reminders that even though I could no longer see the full radiance of the sun, it was still there. Still providing light to another part of the world.

It was a tangible reminder that although life can be dark at times, the Son is always there, even if we can't see Him.

August 5

As soon as she heard my feet on the stairs this morning, Abby ambushed me and asked if we could go to The Dairy today. It's the local hot (cold?) spot for soft serve ice cream. I have no idea what prompted the request since we rarely go there, but after mulling my own childhood Jimmie Cone memories (uhm, a mountain of soft serve smothered in jimmies --or sprinkles, for the non-initiated? YES!) and how sad it would be if I denied her the chance to soak in her own bath of ice creamy nostalgia in 20 years, I said okay. So out we went this afternoon.

Pineapple/vanilla for me, chocolate/orange for Abby, and chocolate/strawberry for Isaac and Brady. (Well, and Brady's strawberry for me, since he promptly told me it was yucky and refused to take another lick of the cone until the offending stuff was removed.)

It was pretty good, I have to say. Not the same, but still pretty good stuff served up in a town 3,000 miles from where my roots were originally planted. And of course, it gave me the chance to think of and talk about my childhood a little. It's a blessing to look back, remember, and share with the ones I love most. (And if there happens to be dessert involved, it's really doubly sweet.)

August 4

I sent Brady to his room for a time out this afternoon following a particularly aggressive disagreement he shared with Isaac. When I called him back down, he returned like this:

He grinned from behind those sunglasses and under that knight's hat and informed he that he'd brought along his sword (the Lego tree) and shield.

Totally a Bible reference. And even though his behavior five minutes earlier was a bit exasperating, I couldn't help but smile.

August 3

At Isaac's well-check a few weeks ago, the doctor heard a heart murmur. Although he said that statistically, most are benign (especially given that Isaac is seven and had never before had one), he didn't like a few things about what he heard, so he referred him to a cardiologist rather than opting for the 'watch and wait' approach that's often employed. I didn't share that information with many people; I could hardly bear the idea that something serious could be wrong with another of my children, so I kept it quiet. I didn't think about it. It's a survival technique, really. It's what I have to do to not worry myself sick. But of course I couldn't avoid the topic indefinitely, and today was his appointment.

The doctor was running a bit behind schedule, so while the kids played in the waiting room, I silently stressed. And then I saw this on the magazine rack.

My first feeling was one of nostalgia; my brother used to read Car and Driver, so the title's familiar font was strangely comforting. Then I looked a little closer, and realized that the blue car in the middle of the cover was a Corvette. A blue Corvette. I looked to make sure no one was watching, and then jumped up to take a picture, because it felt almost like Logan (through God... I'm not trying to be sacreligious here) was saying 'hey, I've got this.' And then we were finally called back to the exam room.

To make a long story shorter, although his EKG showed an abnormality, an echo showed normal heart function and structure, so the doctor proclaimed it a benign murmur. I will, of course, keep an eye on him, but what a blessing to get good news when I know how horrible it feels to get the opposite. And that blue Corvette... a beautiful little smile from beyond.

August 2

We think we're pretty clever sometimes. The human mind does indeed cook up scores of interesting ideas and inventions, but I think when it comes down to the brass tacks of it all, virtually everything is inspired by something else that was directly created by God.

That notion came to me as I passed by this palm tree this afternoon. I was impressed by its intricate patterning and noted the similarities between it and hand-woven baskets. The baskets are the human-created version of God's original -- the tree. Kind of like this world is something of an out-of-focus version of what Heaven is like.

Random thoughts, I know, but certainly ideas to ponder.

August 1

Abby saw a movie with a friend this afternoon. As I walked to pick her up afterward, I passed by these roses.

I was struck by the beautiful, vibrant color as well as the sheer volume of blooms on that single bush. So much loveliness in such a small space; a small but stunning blessing that made me stop and smile.