Oh, Christian, show me.

Oh, Christian, show me how you treat the “least of these”, which is how you treat Jesus.


Oh, Christian, show me how you reduce the plank in your eye and not the splinter in others' eyes.


Oh, Christian, show me your deeds so I know you’re not a gong in the wind.


Oh, Christian, show me that you can’t boast of your works because you’re saved by faith.


Oh, Christian, show me how you forgive your enemies 70 * 7 times.


Oh, Christian, show me how you turn the other cheek to get slapped also.


Oh, Christian, show me how you heal your hated enemies like the good Samaritan did.


Oh, Christian, show me your stone after being convicted to be sinless to throw it.
Oh, Christian, show me that there are no exceptions to “For the Lord so loved the world that he sent his only Son”.


Oh, Christian, show me how you give one of your two shirts to someone who has none.


Oh, Christian, show me how you can’t serve both God and money.

Oh, Christian, show me you know you've fallen short of God's glorious standards. 
Oh, Christian, show me how your love for all humans is equally important to your love of God.


Oh, Christian, show me you forgive ME for not being perfect in the things above.

Do I have the strength

Year after year, I've accompanied my girl into the operating room, to open up her back, just to keep her body from twisting itself.
Day after day, I prepare formula, I only had a 2 year break of doing that, between Ani as a baby and Ani unable to user her mouth to supply nutrition.
Hour to hour, I see the scars on her body, some from the tornado, but mostly through procedures that I've agreed to put her through.
Minute to minute, I try to read the ever-so-subtle variations in the position of her eyes, her cheeks, and her ever changing smile, just to know something about what she's trying to tell me.
And always, I'm looking for changes in her, medically, physically, emotionally, intellectually.
Always I am compiling these changes into my mind, searching for an answer, how can I serve her better, what is something new I can tell the neurologist?
Unless I'm asleep, or "in the zone" at work, my mind is ever busy for her.
I need all the strength and endurance I can get. My faith is powering me, but sometimes I want much more.
I've lost count of how many times I've asked God to give Ani's disabilities to me, to free her.
Always, at my heels, is the question "Why?". As much as I try to keep my rational mind in control, sometimes that question hits me.
There's no answer anywhere, and unless you completely accept that fact, it will drive you insane.
Of course, the true answer of "It was just a random occurrence of weather" doesn't help either.
I'm here for the long haul There's just so many potholes along the way.

Upon you

Oh, somebody's little boy. Your body was lifted, lifeless. Respectfully your body was reunited with those of your older brother and your mother. 

In that picture are all the sorrows of the world exemplified. 

I am so affected by that picture. 

All life is sacred, but that of a child seems ever more precious. Perhaps that's due to my perspective as a parent. 

If I, a finite being feel this much for someone I do not know, how much more does our creator feel for us?

Lord, let me never consider the short two minutes it takes to get Ani in and out of the car an excuse to not go somewhere with her. I didn't think that when we had baby carriers, don't let me think that now. 

The genius of Bach

All my life I've claimed to like classical music. I did, I really did, but I never before had a true appreciation for the master composers. In the two years I have studied violin, I've listened to hundreds of concertos and short pieces. I then heard one of Bach's paritas "Gavotte en Rondeau", and I consider it one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard. Well, come to find out it's among a set of pieces that Bach essentially did as Saturday homework for Church Mass in Sunday. I then listened to his Cello concert and I am blown away. It is truly amazing how the bass notes that start the arpeggios continue in your ear throughout the arpeggio even though the string has stopped singing. There is beauty and exquisite precision in the mathematics of his compositions. I hope to keep finding new things in what I hear. 

Is that ok Nate?

I don't always cry for you. 

Is that ok Nate?

I don't always yell your name in the car when I'm alone. 

Is that ok Nate?

I don't always stay awake at night thinking about reading you books. 

Is that ok Nate?

I look around to see if Micah is getting in trouble and not you. 

Is that ok Nate?

I don't always visit your grave. 

Is that ok Nate?

I always rejoice at where you are. 

Is that ok Nate?

God sometimes grants my prayer for a dream of you. 

Is that ok Nate?

I don't always talk to Ani about you. 

Is that ok Nate?

I just answered the lady serving me that I'm doing fine when I'm not. 

Is that ok Nate?

Am I doing ok Nate?

Oh my baby Nate. I saw a little toddler girl today who had a cast on her arm. She was so cute. Then I remembered your leg and your cast and my smile went away. It just sucks to be without you.