Refocused Attention

Ever had a week you really wanted to hurry up and end already; and then you hear the voice of the One who is in control tell you to open your eyes and notice the gifts that have been given in that very moment? I love that voice of reason, that voice that is not rattled by confusion, that voice that is not controlled by emotion, that voice that sees the heart. It is the voice of the One that doesn't miss anything and yet still overflows with grace and love. It is the voice of the One that sits on His throne and completes brokenness...and aren't we a broken people!

I have been so distracted this week, and this is the voice I heard refocus my attention on the real dilemma I needed to be concerned with this week. "Should I be the Little Mermaid for Halloween or Super girl?" Caroline is really struggling, rather I should say she is obsessing. It is such a tough decision and there are pros and cons to each, ones that we have gone over and over and over. Super girl saves people and she has a cool outfit, but the Little Mermaid is really nice to people and has pretty seashells. Super girl is "like, all grown up and kind of a big kid" and the Little Mermaid "has hair that kind of stays back out of her face". If she is Super girl, she will match her big sister and baby brother, and if she is the Little Mermaid "that would be nice because the Little Mermaid is kind of sad because her daddy is mean". Oh how I love the struggles of a four year old. I think I am going to prefer them to the struggles of a sixteen year old. I think I am going to look back at this moment and wish I had not wished it away. I love the way that voice reminds us to love the moment we have, and in all things to give thanks. Anyone else had one of those moments?

The day we stopped "pretending in Paris": Normandy

It was hard to balance the excitement of being in France on such a beautiful day with some of my favorite people in the world, with the heartache that grabbed me the minute my eyes scrolled over the rows and rows of graves at the Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial.

I'm Mary, Amy's paparazzi sister, and the day we spent here gave me a much needed reminder that I am proud to be an American. The amazing historical tale of what happened on June 6, 1944 is so complex and unbelievable that I will have to leave that up to my veteran husband for another time, as I would not do it justice. But I will share with you that as we walked through the 9,387 headstones I found the crosses for the unknown solider most thought provoking. What would that be like...if it were my father or husband or son or brother whose remains were never clearly identified and their sacrifice was marked with a cross like the one above? I wonder if it is less consoling or if it provides less closure for the families who mourn these kind of losses. I certainly have no answer for that, but here is what I hope.

I hope that the mothers and wives and children and sisters to these fallen "comrades in arms" see the last line on the cross as the one that matters. We may not know the exact path they took that day toward the beach, the horrific sights that unfolded around them or the friend they saw die next to them. But God knows. He watched as they unloaded out of the boats and courageously stormed not only the beach but also their fate. He watched as their families were at home thousands of miles away-safe, but scared. He watched as they paved a path with their bodies that others might follow behind them and succeed in restoring freedom to a foreign nation. He knows. I hope the families of these heroes find peace and victory in the truth of those crosses..."known but to God."

I am proud to be counted among a people of such merit; to be a citizen of a nation that was founded on the freedom to worship the God Who Knows. I am grateful that I live in a country where there are still soldiers who believe so strongly in freedom that they lay down their lives on foreign soil to ensure it. I am humbled by their devotion to protect and defend a stranger's life and I am grateful to serve a God who knows that every sacrifice is significant, whether their names are engraved on a tombstone or not. I am proud to be an American.

Mary

Pretending in Paris...and other places too

Arriving at the Chateau De Villiers-Le-Mahieu, a little overwhelmed, about to cry, Mary and I almost had to hit our knees in thanks, getting ready to start pretending...

Pretending on our way to Notre Dame...

Mary and Geof pretending on the grounds of the Chateau...

Pretending on the streets of Montmartre...

Pretending that I am not about to fall asleep at Musee d'Orsay...

Pretending that this is our Chateau...

Overwhelmed and pretending some more at dinner at the Chateau (no one appreciated our picture taking...we did not care)...

Loving the moment God had given us on a breath-taking evening in the French countryside...

So much more to come....