I'm trying to find a way to tell you about something the Holy Spirit is teaching me through both written words and whispers, but I'm not quite there. I'm a little sluggish in my processing. Also? I keep nodding off.
But profundity is coming to this blog as sure as Santa is coming to this house. Speaking of which, lemme just tell you: Santa and his elves know about my children's terrible behavior, and my kids are totally unfazed. The size of their caring makes a lentil look huge, in comparison. They aren't giving a figurative crap any more than I'm giving a literal one.
All three of my kids have been giving me a ride. And can I just confess? I'm tempted to put Clementine in Time Out and lie down for a nap. I wonder how long she would sit on her little stool before waking me up.
|Don't miss the irony of the shirt.|
Lest you doubt Charleigh's participation in on this misbehaving business, be advised: her best words are: I DON'T WANT IT!, MINE!, NO!, and DOWN! She was screaming: "DOWN!" in this photo, actually:
I was just trying to get a great photo of her wearing her daddy's 39-year-old overalls for a blog post I wanted to entitle "A Case for Hoarding."
Thank you, Friends, for reading to the end of this post. I'm guessing it's a mite confusing to read about poop, the Holy Spirit, Santa, bad behavior, and hoarding in one fell swoop. But you do know what Walt said, right? "Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes" (Whitman, not Disney).
I don't. Contain multitudes, that is. I contain only three: the Holy Spirit, Lentil, and myself.
But, interestingly enough, when I write again, it will be about someone in scripture who really did contain multitudes. I'm hoping that's enough of a hook to bring you back.