KimBeau Hughes

Five Takeaways From Summit

2011-05-14T12:08:00.003-05:00

This weekend I attended the Christian Alliance for Orphans’ Summit conference. I went to the conference last year when it was in Minneapolis and was very encouraged, so I went back this year in Louisville, Kentucky. Here are a few thoughts I came home with:

1. Compassion, mercy, and zeal for the cause will not last. Only a gospel-infused love for orphans will remain: a deep realization that we have been adopted, have received compassion, are objects of mercy, and love because He first loved us. This is the only appropriate motive in adoption.

2. Fear can be a great hindrance to adoption. In John 21, Jesus told Peter that he would go where he did not want to go, that his worst fears would come to pass. Then He said, “Follow me.” Russell Moore, a great adoption advocate, proclaimed to us, “Your worst fear in this process is going to be realized. Follow Him.”

3. “In moving forward in this process, we must rest in the realization that after we have fed His lambs, at the end is a table, a home, a kingdom for all of us ex-orphans.” This is something the Lord has been teaching my heart lately. He has shown me that though the journey will be difficult and my fears will be realized, I was not made for ease and comfort on this earth. We weep now, for joy comes in the morning. We die now, because we will be resurrected. There is a banquet waiting for us. We can wait.

4. Sometimes in our attempts to help orphans and those in poverty, we can actually do harm. Good intentions are not enough. Keep giving, and give more, but give differently. Brian Fikkert explains how: http://www.chalmers.org/when-helping-hurts/index.php

5. Though the teaching at Summit is life changing, the worship powerful, and the cause inspiring, I was most encouraged last year and this year by the people in attendance. The worship center was filled with 1,500 saints who have no status, wealth, or fame, but who have been powerfully transformed by their own adoption in the gospel. They humbly and tirelessly serve the least of these and imitate the adoptive heart of God, without recognition. I pray to be like these men and women.

Summit, see you next year in Cali.

Hope

2011-03-08T12:43:00.003-06:00

Here's the deal. I have started this post at least 100 times, and I can't finish it for a number of reasons. The post is supposed to be about our adoption process. Most days, however, I cannot find the words to communicate what is going on behind the scenes. This is probably due to the fact that most days are ended without any more of a clue as to what is going on than the day before.

Days and months go by without an email, a phone call, or any update at all. This is The Great Unknown I live in most days. I find myself looking at my missed phone calls and emails several times a day, hoping my caseworker's name will show up in one of them. One in a hundred days provides some hint of knowledge that leaves me only wanting more answers. Answers that God alone truly possesses.

He knows where our next child is now. He knows if his or her heart is beating, or if the baby has even yet to be conceived. He knows if this child will ever even come, or if it is merely an idea that will not come true. He knows the mother who will bear and birth our child. He knows our baby's gender, race, background, and face. He knows him or her well.

Now, if only I can rest in the fact that HE KNOWS. God's knowledge of our future, of whether He has more children for us or even another day for our own hearts to beat, should leave me with a sense of comfort. Of rest. Of joy.

Some days it does. Other days I am dizzy in a sea of confusion and unknowns. This is different from pregnancy. In pregnancy, you know how many days (approximately) are left, the gender (if you want), his or her health background, and a hundred other things. You feel a bit more "in control", even if it is a false sense of control.

I am not complaining. I am very aware that every child is a gracious, divine gift of God. I am so grateful for the one that I have. I am entitled to none but have been given one gift, and am on a journey to see if God would find it best to grant us another.

The journey is one of hope. Hope that at the end, there will be a child who will need a mother to nurture, teach, and love him. Though we do not like the spiritual disease that leads to a need for orphan care or adoption at all, God has seen it fit to redeem the system in a myriad of ways.

However, it has become clearer to me that hope, not placed in Christ alone, is in vain. The end is not a wonderful addition to our family or even an orphan finding a home. The end, praise God, is Him. He is my blessed reward. My prize. My crown. This, sweet friends and family, is sustaining me. For if all that is waiting for me, though it is beautiful, is our next child, I have hoped in vain. If Christ is not in care of orphans, I can let the dream go. But if He is in their care, in their little faces, in their smiles, in their tears, in their pleas for a home, and I believe strongly that He is, I want in! Completely, totally, and utterly in!

I would ask that as the Lord brings our family to mind over the next, few or several, days, weeks, or months, that you would please pray for us. Most of all, that you would pray for our hope to be in Christ alone. He alone is worthy. The only end worth hoping for.

Restoration

2010-12-07T09:00:00.000-06:00

On the Internet today, I stumbled upon a page of “waiting children” in the state of Texas. The waiting children are ones who have been, in one form or another, abandoned by their parents. They have been in and out of foster homes and orphanages for years and are still waiting, still holding out hope that a family might choose them to be apart of their family, choose them to love, choose them to call “son” or “daughter”.

The photos I gazed at today, page after devastating page, were of children of all different ages, skin colors, backgrounds, some having as many as five siblings in a photo; and yet they all have one thing in common. None of them have a person in their lives that they can call “mommy” or “daddy”.

I smiled with tears in my eyes as I looked at a few of the photos of adorable little girls with pig tails and sweet little boys with the biggest smiles you have ever seen, and I wanted to bring them home. Then, I noticed a few other pictures that caused my heart to break. These photos were of a little boy with crossed eyes, a teenage girl in a wheelchair, a baby with a cleft lip. And I wondered, “Will anyone choose them?”

I prayed over these children today. I prayed that God would bring someone in their lives that they can call “mommy” or “daddy”, perhaps for the first time.

Tonight the church staff worshipped together at our annual Christmas party. Towards the end of the evening, we sang the song, “Restoration”. Over and over again, the lines were sung, “You bring restoration. You bring restoration. You bring restoration to my soul”, and the Lord brought these photos to the forefront of my mind. As I began to pray over these children, I sensed the Lord pressing on my heart that, without Christ, I am one of the children in the photos. I am an orphan without hope, without joy, without a family.

I am the broken one, the one with handicaps and deformities and an unclean slate. And when looking upon my photo, knowing full well the thoughts and intentions of my heart, God points to my picture and says, “That one!” “I choose that one.”

The Scripture comes to mind, “For those who are led by the Spirit of God are the children of God. The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father” (Romans 8:14-15).

As we continued to sing, I pictured these children, sitting at the heads of tables in the kingdom of God, when the last shall be first and the humble shall be exalted. When God will ultimately, “…take my mourning, turn it into dancing…take my weeping, turn it into laughing…take my sadness, turn it into joy”. And I rejoiced tonight for them, fighting back tears. That perhaps one day they will find themselves to be lifted up, clean, restored in the kingdom of God. And I rejoiced in Christ for my own soul as well, that written out in the margin by my own picture is engraved the word, “Mine”.

The theme of this evening’s worship was on the brokenness of this world and longing for Christ’s return, and as I continue to think on these things, I plead with my Father that He would “Bring restoration”, because somewhere out there, these children I saw on the Internet today are still in the midst of great turmoil and pain, waiting for their adoption as sons and daughters, even as I “groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies” (Romans 8:23).

“I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you” (John 14:18).

Conversations

2010-11-28T10:40:00.005-06:00

Beau wrote a weekly email to the church staff recently that I found to be encouraging even to a layman. Here it is:

"Friends,

One of the great privileges that our vocation provides us is the opportunity to talk about God with people. Indeed, talking about God is more than just an opportunity He provides for us; it is a responsibility that He has charged us with. We are a community of priests. One of the roles of the priest is to help God’s people stay attentive to Him. This happens through words. Undoubtedly, God accomplishes this in other ways as well, but people come to and grow in faith through hearing the word of Christ. And people hear because others speak. God has called us to be a gospel-speaking community of priests.

And what a marvelous ministry He has given us! What a joy it is to be entrusted with the responsibility to ever be speaking to God’s people of HIs character and His gospel! However, as you know, there is a subtle temptation that accompanies our vocation and the constant conversations we have about God. The temptation is that we become better at talking about God than to God, that our comments and counsel about God cease to be an overflow of our communion with God.

Therese of Lisieux, a French nun, expressed this temptation and tendency piercingly. She wrote:
“Talking to God, I felt, is always better than talking about God; those pious conversations—there’s always a touch of self-approval about them.”

This quote has challenged my heart the past few weeks. It has helped me think more deeply about the pious conversations I am involved in every day and the propensity of my heart to be comfortable with speaking about God a lot and speaking to him little. Let me encourage you as the Holy Spirit has encouraged me these past few weeks to continue to guard against this temptation.

My prayer for my own life and ministry this week, as well as yours, is that our conversations about God would be an overflow of our conversations with God. I am praying that our meetings over coffee, the tweets that we post, and the counsel we share in emails would spill over from our communion with God. That there would be not even a hint of self-approval in anything we do.

Grace and peace to you, Beau."

Thinking About Denny's

2010-07-25T11:07:00.006-05:00

Just a few days ago I was driving past Denny's, and I wondered as I drove by what their "new thing" is. Do they have a new kind of biscuit or pancake they are advertising to keep up with the changing times? Perhaps a gluten-free biscuit or nine pancakes for ninety-nine cents? And I realized that whatever is going on at Denny's, it must be at the center of Mr. & Mrs. Denny's worlds. They must be thinking constantly about how business is going, hoping the public will like the new turkey bacon they are using, and so on.

Then I drove past a Toyota dealership. I pondered how Mr. & Mrs. Toyota must be feeling right now. Lots of positive advertising from them on top of lots of poor press about them must be overwhelming. There are articles on the fronts of thousands of papers and broadcastings on hundreds of networks about the new Toyota recalls. They must be terribly worried, thinking the whole world is looking down on them, as they lie in bed awake at night, hoping their company does not fall apart.

In reality, however, very few people are genuinely concerned about Denny's new biscuit or Toyota's recalls. I happen to have a Toyota, and I spent about 45 seconds of my day researching if my particular model had been recalled, realized it had not, and moved on with my day.

If you are not already terribly bored and are still reading, you might be wondering what in the world Denny's and Toyota has to do with anything in the world that you or I might care about, and I will now end your (lack of) suspense.

My meditations on that drive down I-35 got me thinking about how everyone, including myself, has something in their lives that is consuming them, that is at the center of their lives and thoughts, and that they (subconsciously) believe the rest of the world is noticing and judging.

Then I realized that all of these people are thinking far more of their own condition than anyone else is, and that the general public probably doesn't care as much as they think.

As I drove further, I began relating this to you and me.

That no one is thinking about us as much as we are. That the four pounds we gained on vacation that we are obsessing about, wondering if people are noticing, are actually noticed and cared about by little more than ourselves. Those around us are thinking far more, if not only, about their own appearance than about ours.

Or the way we are choosing to raise our children, what school we will be putting or not putting them in, how well they are behaved, and so on, is far more consuming to us than to anyone else. Everyone else is thinking about themselves and what is the center of their lives, not ours.

The point I am trying to get to is this: I think we often take ourselves much too seriously and believe others are watching us far more closely than they are in reality. Thus, if we are trying to please anyone else by our appearance, our parenting, our housekeeping, our material possessions, and so on, we are doing so in vain.

At the end of the day, I thought about Denny's for about six seconds and Toyota for forty-five seconds, and if it were not for the lesson I was being taught, I would not have thought of them again for probably another year or so (or Denny's probably ever).

And if that is the case with Denny's, Toyota, you, and me, whom in the world should we be living to please?

It is written: "'As surely as I live,' declares the Lord, 'every knee shall bow before me; every tongue shall confess to God.'" SO THEN, each of us will give an account of himself BEFORE GOD. (Romans 14:11-12)

In the end, we will all be standing before God, who judges the living and the dead. No man or woman can help or defend or speak up for us. Christ alone can speak up for us, by the blood of the Lamb, and I hope to Him that we will be found, not conformed to the pattern of this world, but longing for heaven and seeking His kingdom above all other things.

May Denny's, Toyota, and whatever else we might pass today prove as reminders for us to remove our eyes from ourselves and our circumstances, and to instead be consumed with God, His glory, His people, and His return.

The Myth of the Perfect Parent

2010-02-21T10:11:00.003-06:00

As I was reading Christianity Today this morning, I came across an article by Leslie Leyland Fields called, "The Myth of the Perfect Parent". These words popped off the page at me, as I so desperately desire to be that parent. My child is not yet old enough to determine if I have done a good enough job raising him in the fear and admonition of the Lord. Because as this article points out, our culture tends to think that you can judge the success or failure of the parenting by looking at the success or failure of the child. And what could be further from the truth, as the author points out, that even our Father God, in His perfect parenting, has rebellious, wayward children.

Since Haddon is still only an infant, I am not in this battle yet, but there are other battles. My parenting skills are not yet based on Haddon's godliness or lack thereof, but they are based on his sleeping habits, his health, what he eats, what type of diapers he wears, attachment parenting vs. baby wise parenting, hospital birth vs. natural birth, down to whether or not he uses a pacifier! These battles are temporary at best, though it is easy to find myself caught up in worry over these things, and if, at 5 months, he is still not sleeping through the night, I must be a terrible mom, I must have failed. And for the record, he is not sleeping through the night. There, I said it.

I am thankful that the Lord is already beginning to teach me that my attempts to control and to be the "perfect parent" are in vain. Although I know He will teach me this over, and over, and over, and over again as I raise my son. The goal is not to be a perfect parent. The goal is to be a faithful parent. And as long as my focus is on my own success or failure, rather than faithfulness to and love for the kingdom of God, I have failed.

So Lord, help us to do our very best, only by your grace, at being God-fearing parents, and to trust you with the outcome of our children, whether that be their sleeping habits or their godliness.

You can check out this article at: http://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2010/january/12.22.html

On Missing the Company of Christ

2010-01-19T08:56:00.002-06:00

Being at such a young church campus, I run into A LOT of newlyweds. I meet and talk with many of these new brides (of which I am one, being only married myself 2 and a half years), and I invariably hear the same thing from them all. On second thought, I hear a similar story from even those who have been married several years.

They, or we, oftentimes feel like we have departed from our First Love. When we were single it was "easier" to be undivided to the Lord, to depend solely on Him, to love Him most. And now that we are married, we feel our affections and devotion divided, and we wonder what happened to the romance we had with our Lord such a short time ago. We want it back, but we have no idea how to get it.

I propose the idol of marriage, of a man worshipped and depended upon over the Maker. And this morning, as I read from Charles Haddon Spurgeon, I was challenged in this area by the following words, and I wanted to share them with you:

"Tell me where you lost the company of Christ, and I will tell you the most likely place to find Him. Have you lost Christ in the closet by restraining prayer? Then it is there you must seek and find Him. Did you lose Christ by sin? You will find Christ in no other way buy by giving up of the sin, and seeking by the Holy Spirit to mortify the member in which the lust doth dwell. Did you lose Christ by neglecting the Scriptures? You must find Christ in the Scriptures. It is a true proverb, "Look for a thing where you dropped it, it is there."

So look for Christ where you lost Him, for He has not gone away. But it is hard work to go back for Christ. Bunyan tells us, the pilgrim found the piece of the road back to the Arbour of Ease, where he lost his roll, the hardest he had ever travelled. Twenty miles onward is easier than to go one mile back for the lost evidence.

Take care, then, when you find your Master, to cling close to Him. But how is it you have lost Him? One would have thought you would never have parted with such a precious friend, whose presence is so sweet, whose words are so comforting, and whose company is so dear to you! How is it that you did not watch Him every moment for fear of losing sight of Him? Yet, since you have let Him go, what a mercy that you are seeking Him, even though you mournfully groan, 'O that I knew where I might find Him!' Go on seeking, for it is dangerous to be without thy Lord. Without Christ you are like a sheep without its shepherd; like a tree without water at its roots; like a sere leaf in the tempest--not bound to the tree of life. With thine whole heart seek Him, and He will be found of thee: only give thyself thoroughly up to the search, and verily, thou shalt yet discover Him to thy joy and gladness."

Whatever it might be for you, whether you feel you lost Him in the closet of prayer, or in the idolatry of a man, go repent and find Him there. I will be over and over again doing the same with you. And I declare and hope with Spurgeon, "such a precious friend, whose presence is so sweet"!

What I Learned About God From My Three-Month-Old's Storybook Bible

2009-12-09T10:55:00.003-06:00

I don't know about you, but when I read the Old Testament I get confused. There are so many things about God I do not understand and so many theological concepts I cannot comprehend. As I have been reading lately, from Genesis to Deuteronomy, I have felt discouraged at my lack of understanding.

This morning, as I sipped coffee and read The Jesus Storybook Bible to my three-month-old, who by the way does not understand what I am reading, I was brought to tears as I read aloud from the page that followed the story of Adam and Eve:

"God loved his children too much to let the story end there. Even though he knew he would suffer, God had a plan--a magnificent dream. One day, he would get his children back. One day, he would make the world their perfect home again. And one day, he would wipe away every tear from their eyes.

You see, no matter what, in spite of everything, God would love his children--with a Never Stopping, Never Giving Up, Unbreaking, Always and Forever Love.

And though they would forget him, and run from him, deep in their hearts, God's children would miss him always, and long for him--lost children yearning for their home.

Before they left the garden, God whispered a promise to Adam and Eve: 'It will not always be so! I will come to rescue you! And when I do, I'm going to do battle against the snake. I'll get rid of the sin and the dark and the sadness you let in here. I'm coming back for you!'

And he would. One day, God himself would come."

My three-month-old smiled, though he did not understand. I smiled too, with a tear running down my cheek, as I was reminded that each piece of the Old Testament points to the Savior who would come and fix the brokenness. And not only am I delighting this morning in a greater understanding of God from a children's Bible, but I am encouraged in a season that is both heavy and difficult for some very dear friends. That Jesus DID come and that Jesus WILL come again.

Because as my three-month-old's Bible says again, "I'll get rid of the sin and the dark and the sadness...I'm coming back for you!"

Thank you, Father, for greater understanding of you, for comfort for the down-trodden, and for Christmas, the coming of your Son. Three beautiful things I am thankful for today.

Eager Longing

2009-11-11T09:18:00.003-06:00

Because I am crazy and tend to seek out pain (not really), Beau and I chose to do natural birth with a midwife. It was obviously the most painfully brutal and incredible day of my life. My labor was a bit unique, as my midwife later told me, because I labored for 48 hours. Apparently that is a little longer than normal. ;) In the middle of the pain several thoughts ran through my head. Thoughts of God's hatred for our sin, which is why there is pain in birth in the first place. Thoughts of how Jesus "endured the cross...for the joy set before Him." I was reaching for all I could to encourage me to keep going.

Four days after Haddon was born, I wrote down the story of his birth, the mental pictures I took during the whole process, pictures of pain and suffering, pictures of my husband looking on in concern, pictures of utter dependence and hope. I am going to share with you the very end of it.

"My husband and I later reflect on some of the mental photographs we have both taken, and he tells me what was going through his mind during the laboring process. He tells me about Romans 8:

'For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to decay and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God. For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved.'

My heart is stirred within me. I hold in my arms the prize, the hope, the reward that has come at the end of long groaning and deep pain. And I think of this world. I think of the laboring that is still going on, in creation, in my own heart. The very reason things in this world are broken. The purpose behind pain. And so my heart is torn. For in my left hand I hold my baby, the treasure at the end of my groaning, and in my right I still see cracking and bleeding, for with it I still labor and know that the ultimate reward has been won, but has yet to be seen.

So I rejoice. And so I also long and continue to labor as I attempt to wait patiently for the adoption of the children of God, and for the redemption of our bodies.

I lay in bed now, with my son sleeping on my chest, this joy, this prize I have longed and waited for, and I think on when Jesus said to the beloved disciple in the book of Revelation, 'Surely I am coming soon'. And with one last prayer before falling to sleep, I look to Jesus with longing as the disciple did and whisper aloud, 'Amen. Come, Lord Jesus!'"

My Favorite Picture of All Time of My Two Favorite People

2009-10-28T21:10:00.003-05:00

"I Just Love Him!"

2009-10-12T21:11:00.002-05:00

So maybe his hat is a little too big for him, but I just couldn't resist. Besides, the tight hats take me like 15 minutes to get on his head.

In the words my husband uses about 254 times a day, "I just love him!"

Four VERY Important Lists

2009-09-28T14:27:00.004-05:00

Four VERY Important Lists:

Eight Things I Will NEVER AGAIN Take For Granted After Being Pregnant:

1. Tying my own shoes

2. Sleeping on my stomach

3. Getting out of bed without needing a crane

4. Shaving my legs

5. Getting my feet into shorts/pants without falling over

6. No pain in my ribcage

7. Coffee

8. Diet drinks

Five Things All New Moms Should Know:

1. Carrying 20 pounds inside of you is far easier than carrying 7 pounds outside of you in an awful plastic infant carrier-car seat-thingy. (I have blisters on my hands, and my forearms are more sore than they ever were from personal training.)

2. A "quick store run" can now be compared to a 2 week vacation in terms of packing a bag, making sure everyone is fed and has pottied, and the need to stop for drinks and snacks on the way.

3. EVERYTHING hurts for awhile. All body parts. None are excluded.

4. Babies pee everywhere, on everything, all the time.

5. Babies have no social politeness in terms of holding certain noises in public places.

Two Things That Would Make the World a Better Place:

1. Drive-thru service at the post office.

2. Parking lots with spots for mothers of young children, or at the very least give us a handicapped sticker!

One Thing I Learned Today:

1. The USPS (United Stated Postal Service), aka the Post Office, does not send packages FedEx. Go figure.

Haddon Nathaniel's First Pictures

2009-09-19T21:50:00.007-05:00

Thanking the Lord for our precious baby boy. He is so good and gracious and has given us such a wonderful gift in Haddon Nathaniel.

(Thanks also to Julie Birdseye for taking Haddon's baby pictures! Check her out at http://birdseyephotographyblog.com.)

A Morning Prayer

2009-09-02T07:40:00.004-05:00

This morning, as I was reading Elisabeth Elliot's daily devotional, I found this prayer that has been an encouragement and blessing, a cry of my heart today:

"Lord, break the chains that hold me to myself; free me to be your happy slave--that is, to be the happy foot-washer of anyone today who needs his feet washed, his supper cooked, his faults overlooked, his work commended, his failure forgiven, his griefs consoled, or his button sewed on. Let me not imagine that my love for You is very great if I am unwilling to do for a human being something very small."

Love you guys.

PLEASE Don't Tell My Parents

2009-08-23T19:59:00.006-05:00

Beau and I thought it would be fun to have a little weekend away together before our the baby is born, so we drove off to my parents' lake house this past weekend. It could not have been more perfect. Plenty of rest, reading, good food, and good conversation. Oh, except there was that one part of the trip...

...please don't tell my parents...

Beau woke up Friday morning ready to go out on the jet ski. It was perfect weather; no one else was on the water yet; so it would just be Beau, the jet ski, and the wind in his face. What could be more perfect? (I would have gone with him, but for some reason my doctor doesn't think flying and bumping at 65 MPH across water and wakes while nine months pregnant is a good idea. Not sure why?)

As an important side note, my parents just bought a "lift" for the boat and jet skis. So Beau and I figured out how to work the lift and successfully lowered the boat and skis into the water. A miracle in itself. Beau jumped on one of the jet skis and took off for the wind! (We both wondered aloud why the jet skis were not tied up to the dock when we got there, but decided that since they were on the lift it probably didn't matter.)

After Beau took off, I went for a little walk. Shortly into my walk, I had the sudden urge to use the restroom (a common occurrence for a nine month pregnant lady), so I walked to the bathroom, and as I was washing my hands, I had the thought, "If the jet skis were held still by the lift and were not tied to the dock, then if the lift is currently down, and the other jet ski is still not tied to the dock, what will happen to the jet ski?"

So I ran.

Fast.

At nine months pregnant.

In 102 degree heat.

As I neared the lake, I saw exactly what I expected to see as I was running. The other jet ski. Floating in the middle of the lake.

I immediately began running through my options of what to do next. Option #1: I could jump in and swim to the jet ski. But I didn't have on a swimsuit, and I can't swim very well. Especially when there are jumping fish and "debris" all around me. Option #2: Sit on the dock, watching the jet ski float off into oblivion while waiting for Beau to get back and rescue it. I decided to go for Option #3:

I saw the jet ski nearing the rocks. Another BIG no-no! I ran over to the edge of a small cliff, first of all, to attempt to keep the jet ski from running into the rocks, and second of all, to see if I could hold it there with my foot until Beau got back.

So I climbed down the small cliff and placed my foot on the jet ski before it hit the rocks. Praise the Lord! I thought maybe I could hold this position until Beau got back, but the jet ski began to drift and I was unable to control it with my foot while dangling off of the cliff. (Did I mention that I am still nine months pregnant at this point?) I was losing my grip on the rock, so my options then became to either jump in the water (already explained why this would not be a good idea), or to jump on the jet ski. I opted to jump on the jet ski.

Now at this point, if I had a key to the jet ski, this would have been an easy fix. But of course I did not. So now, not only is the jet ski floating off into oblivion, I am floating with it! Waiting for Beau. Hoping he finds me.

After about 30 minutes (seeming like 5 hours), of floating, hoping, and praying, I saw Beau turn the corner. My hero! He started waving and thought to himself that I must have decided to go for a little ride on the jet ski as well (against my doctor's orders). He rode over near me and quickly realized that my engine was not running and that something was a little off.

After nearly wetting his pants laughing at me, he came up with a solution.

To make the long rest of the story short, Beau Hughes is my hero, and he rescued not only me, but the beloved yellow jet ski. (After a long while of holding me, still on the jet ski, by the hand and dragging me back to safety along the edge of the cliff.)

Can we ever go on a weekend getaway without something obnoxious happening? (See "Learning to Fish" post).

The jet skis are now safely on the lift AND MORE IMPORTANTLY tied to the dock. I would personally like to have a word with whomever did not tie them to the dock in the first place.

And again, PLEASE don't tell my parents.

Signing off,

Nine-Month Pregnant Lady Hanging Off a Cliff

(wish I had pictures for you)

About to POP!

2009-08-18T13:14:00.003-05:00

38 weeks, people! And feeling more like 52. Supposedly, baby should "drop" sometime before I deliver, but at the rate we are going, Haddon will be beneath my clavicle by tomorrow morning. I am telling you, he is getting HIGHER, and this is not a figment of my imagination. I think I felt him kick me in the jaw last night. Bless his sweet little soul that I am dying to kick back in his little jaw as soon as he is old enough to take it.

Maybe next post will be baby pictures.

But then again...

at the rate we are going...

it may still be years off...

So I wait...

and hope...

and keep an ice pack on my jaw in the meantime.

Just in Time...

2009-08-07T18:00:00.009-05:00

I figure that since Beau and I went on our two year anniversary/ABOUT TO BE PARENTS trip over two months ago, it is time to post a few pics. (I am normally terrible at taking pictures, but this trip I got like 10, so GIVE ME SOME CREDIT PEOPLE!) Since I am pregnant and all, unable to do most activities I would normally like to do (hiking, biking, surfing, etc.), we wanted to go somewhere and just "chill". So off to San Diego we went. I LOVE California and have always wanted to live there but recently realized (through conversation with a friend from Cali) that I would have to be a millionaire to live anywhere remotely beautiful and attractive. Bummer.

On Coronado Island, overlooking San Diego

(Beau eating ice cream and hacked off because the camera was dead as usual, so I had to ask a complete stranger to "Hurry and take it!"-my fault...I never remember to charge it.)

Walking to the Fish Market (delicious), while passing by a (probably significant) U.S. Navy something-or-other

(Note: My stomach is larger than skinny girl's in statue, and I don't think she is doing the awkward thing I am doing with my left hand. Go figure.)

Feet

(mine perhaps more swollen than Beau's...although I have never claimed to have "un-swollen" feet when not pregnant :))

(...on the beach...can't remember which one...)

Picture of hotel pool (that we got to stay at for real cheap thanks to B.P. Sorry, we were going to name our son after you for this incredible deal but decided to go against it at the last minute. Don't be mad.)

About to leave for date night

Beau lookin' hot in the PT Cruiser

Scariest dog I have ever seen in my life.

Took picture and ran for my life.

I like to call this picture, "Awesome Hair-Do with Hands Strategically Placed on Stomach")

(oh, and La Jolla cove in the background)

Anniversary date at George's Restaurant in La Jolla!

(best seafood we have ever eaten and definitely the best view)

Love you babe, and thanks for the awesome trip!

P.S. ...saving up to be a millionaire if anyone wants to donate to "the cause"...

Haddon Nathaniel

2009-07-31T22:38:00.002-05:00

We finally picked out the full name! 5 weeks before the big day!

His first name will be Haddon, after one of my and Beau's favorite theologians and preachers, Charles Haddon Spurgeon. (We liked Haddon better than Charles or Spurgeon. Go figure.) Here is a bio on him if you are interested: http://hv.thevillagechurch.net/blog/creative/?p=1093. His writings have been a great inspiration to us both. Even as I was reading this morning, my heart was stirred by his insight:

"Words cannot set forth the preciousness of the Lord Jesus to his people. Dear reader, what wouldst thou do in the world without him, in the midst of its temptations and its cares? What wouldst thou do in the morning without him, when thou wakest up and lookest forward to the day's battle? What wouldst thou do at night, when thou comest home jaded and weary, if there were no door of fellowship between thee and Christ? Blessed be his name, he will not suffer us to try our lot without him, for Jesus never forsakes his own. Yet, let the thought of what life would be without him, enhance his preciousness."

And then there is his middle name. Nathaniel. If you will remember back with me, to when I told Beau we were pregnant, he wept and repeated over and over again, in different words, what a gift this child is from the Lord. This is a very beautiful and meaningful memory for us both, and so we chose our child's middle name because of its meaning, "gift of God."

I know a lot of people choose names based on preference rather than meaning, and I think that is great. Just for some unknown reason this was important to us. So, little Haddon Nathaniel, we cannot wait to meet you! 5 more weeks, give or take!

To My Friend, Soon To Be Married

2009-07-26T21:26:00.006-05:00

To My Friend, Soon to Be Married (and there are many of you),

You have no idea how great of an honor it is to be apart of one of the most special and significant times of your life. I cannot believe you are about to join the “marriage club”! It is just one of the greatest blessings you can imagine. The way the Lord will fill you with such joy in Himself through a man, the way He will show you His unconditional covenant love when things are hard, the way He will transform you into His image through the sharpening of another person—these are all such beautiful things the Lord has designed marriage to reveal.

Marriage, as you will soon come to know, is one of the greatest gifts the Lord has given us. You know, when Jesus returns, that all the symbols will be removed, and we will see the reality behind all the symbols we have experienced. Marriage is a symbol, designed to point us to Jesus and His relationship with His Bride, the Church, of which you are apart. May God in His grace allow you to see Him in every aspect of your marriage, the good days and the bad days, with the knowledge that all are meant to point to Him. The days when you are reminded that this world is broken and your husband is imperfect, may your soul long for Christ and for the fulfillment of all that these imperfect symbols are about. And on the days when you think life could not possibly be any better, and your husband is an astounding picture of Christ and His love for His Church toward you, may this also point you to Christ and His love for you coming through this man.

I am praying for you and your upcoming marriage, that God give you immeasurable peace and joy. I cannot thank you enough for your steadfast friendship over the past several years. You are such a beautiful woman of God, faithful in prayer, and lover of people. Thank you for your example to me, your patience with me, and your consistent friendship to me.

I cannot believe that something we have prayed and hoped for over so many years is coming to fruition this week. I could not be happier for you. I look forward to as many years ahead as the Lord gives us to walk together in this journey.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

Congratulations!

Okay, Okay...30 Weeks In All Its Glory

2009-07-05T20:49:00.004-05:00

Sister, don't kill me for posting this. You are a beautiful 30 week-er! Sorry your little one is sitting so low on you. I somewhat empathize because mine is so dang high that it feels like he is literally living in my rib cage. Crazy!

Almost there!!!!!

In Honor of a Godly Father

2009-06-30T16:21:00.006-05:00

We sat at one of my favorite local restaurants, as we did almost weekly throughout my college career, eating turkey and avocado sandwiches followed by the best frozen yogurt you have ever tasted. I often brought questions. Questions about life. About the Bible. About controversial theological subjects. This particular week, a question haunted my heart.

The Lord brought me to a place of intense wrestling with what actually took place the day Jesus was killed. I had already learned that the One who killed Jesus was not of human descent. It was God Himself. This I had come to understand, for as Isaiah 53 says, "It was the LORD's will to crush him".

So I presented a fictitious story to my dad. It was a story concerning me, his daughter, with a semi-graphic portrayal of him allowing, even willing, me to be tortured and murdered for the sake of others. I would brutally die, and others would be saved. But what I could not understand was how in the world this would be loving to me, the daughter. How could you give me, your daughter, up to such torture and death, for others who are not your children? Is that love?

At this point I was practically sweating, trying desperately to understand. I went on like this for at least 15 minutes.

When he could tell I was finished, my father, across the table, reached into his back pocket where his small, black leather New Testament never departs, and flipped quickly to a page and stopped. He prefaced to me that these things are often too lofty for anyone to understand, and then began to read aloud to me from Philippians 2:

"Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus, who being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be grasped, but made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death, even death on a cross!"

He paused for a moment, not looking up from the page. This, I knew from experience, meant that he could not continue for the tears that never failed to arise. He continued after a couple of minutes with a shaky voice and teary eyes:

"Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father."

And I felt a lump in my throat. I knew exactly what he was trying to say. He never really answered my questions directly, but most often reached into his back pocket and read to me. I would ask him about the "end times" or about the book of Revelation, and he would always say to me that in his study of these topics, he would always conclude with the overwhelming idea that we should, "Be ready." This was all he would tell me on the subject. "Be ready, Kimbo. Be ready."

My father is one who loves the Word of God perhaps more than anyone I know, who prays more fervently than I could ever hope for, and who never cries except when reading Scripture aloud to me. One of my fondest memories of a godly father is my junior year of high school when I was going through a very difficult time. I heard a creaking outside my door in the middle of the night for what seemed like hours until I finally had to get up to see what it was. I peaked my head out of my bedroom door to find my dad pacing back and forth in prayer in front of my room.

I am so grateful for the example, influence, and direction of a man of God in my life, who I have been richly blessed enough to call, "Dad".

So in honor of you, dad, since Father's Day was two weeks ago and your birthday was over a week ago (you know me, never on time), I just want to say I love you, and that I am eternally grateful.

-Kimby

Happy 2nd Anniversary!

2009-06-16T10:08:00.003-05:00

To my amazing and crazy husband on our 2nd anniversary (that was actually yesterday)...

10 Reasons I Love My Husband This Year That Weren't On My List Last Year

10. The way he sings me songs, so off tune, but so hilarious that I cry laughing every time.

9. How he always pretends like he is shaking one of those musical egg shaker things in the car, rolls down his window and tosses this invisible egg over the car, at which point I am supposed to roll down my window, catch the egg, and continue shaking.

8. His patience with me in my battle with ironing clothes. (poor thing)

7. His obsession with all things peanut butter and Harney & Sons Cinnamon Spice Tea.

6. The way he always says he won't let me drive on road trips, and an hour later pulls over and tells me it's my turn. Every time.

5. The way we have somehow developed our own language using only one word to convey complete sentences and ideas, as if we are 2 years old again. For example, if he walks in the house and can tell something is wrong with me, he will just look at me with sad eyes and say, "Baby, wrong. Baby, wrong."

4. How he always asks me to buy him yogurt but never eats it before it expires and then asks again why I never buy him yogurt.

3. His new love for strawberry smoothies every morning. "Baby, smoothie. Baby, strawberry."

2. How he walks into the house every evening and immediately unloads his wallet, phone, and keys, and then takes off his ring and watch. Without skipping a beat.

1. I told him yesterday, on our actual anniversary, that the number one reason I married him was because I knew, beyond the shadow of a doubt, that I could follow this man off of a cliff. BECAUSE, I knew that if he was jumping off of a cliff, Jesus must be at the bottom waiting. And it is the most refreshing and "safe" feeling in the world to know that my husband will always, by the grace of God, lead us to where more of Jesus is.

Thank you, baby. I love you this year more than I ever thought I could.

Art of Being Still

2009-06-09T17:01:00.003-05:00

This is a recent article my hubby wrote for the Denton Record Chronicle. He writes for them once a quarter. Thought I would share. :)

Rev. Beau Hughes: We must learn art of being still to truly know Creator
08:29 AM CDT on Friday, June 5, 2009

Summer is here, and for a pastor of a church full of twenty somethings, that means one thing: Wedding season has arrived.

I attended my second wedding of the summer last Saturday, and I am scheduled to officiate two weddings over the next two weekends. Each summer, I am reminded of the first wedding I ever officiated and the lessons God taught me through it.

I was fulfilling a promise I made to my college basketball teammate. The wedding lodge was nestled in the middle of the Ozark Mountains. It was breathtaking.

We were so deep in the mountains that the nearest gas station was 30 minutes away, and if you wanted to talk on your cellphone, you had to drive an hour and a half.

The Ozarks are a land of simplicity, a place where people park their car on the side of the road to watch elk and where everyone really does know your name. Life goes at a different pace in the Arkansas mountains. Slow. Unrushed. Quiet.

The first day I was there, I chuckled at all of the stereotypes I witnessed. In my arrogance, I tried to fathom the misery of growing up in such a place. No phones. No people. No noise. Nothing to do. “How boring,” I thought to myself.

Before the wedding bells rang, however, my perception had utterly shifted.

As the wedding approached Saturday evening, I found myself sitting above the creek at the lodge basking in the silence. The country way of life was forcing me to sit still and quiet my soul.

No Internet. No cellphones. No cars. Just the sounds of the birds chirping and the creek rolling over the rocks below me — and my thoughts.

I remember realizing in that moment how devoid my life was of true rest. I had forgotten what it was like to take a deep breath and not to worry about the next thing on my list.

Sure, I was in the habit of taking naps and having physical downtime, but that’s not true rest — at least not the kind that leaves you longing for life and with a peace that passes understanding, the kind where you hear the birds chirp and God speak.

It was a powerful moment for me, one of those experiences that I can replay vividly to this day.

I recall coming home from the Ozarks determined to find a place and time to practice resting. I convinced myself that I was going to make it a habit, that it was too important not to. Five years later, I am embarrassed at my lack of progress.

The Christian God commands — yes, commands — his people to rest. It’s called Sabbath. He has woven our need for it into the rhythm of the universe, yet few seem to take Him seriously.

You might even say that neglecting God’s command to rest is one of the “respectable” sins prevalent among God’s people today.

Of course, like all of His commands, God has our good in mind when He instructs us to Sabbath. He is not a killjoy, but one who wants us to experience the fullness of joy, something he knows is only experienced when we take a deep breath and synchronize our heart, mind, soul and strength with Him.

I am beginning another summer of officiating weddings and wondering why I, and many like me, have such a hard time resting. The obvious answer is that we are too busy and distracted. That is true.

However, I am starting to question if there is not something more behind our aversion. I think most of us are afraid of what a little rest and time with God might reveal.

Cousins!!!!!!!

2009-06-04T08:15:00.005-05:00

Okay, I know I have been struggling on the "number of weeks pregnant" photos, so here is one, and possibly the only one that will be ;) with my also pregnant sister-in-law. Our due dates are 5 days apart! This picture was at about 25-ish weeks? So fun and crazy! She is having a girl, and we are having boy. Can't wait for cousins!!!!

What will my niece McKinley do with two new kids around!?!?

I Met My Hero

2009-05-18T17:07:00.004-05:00

This past weekend, I had the unbelievable and surreal opportunity to meet one of my heroes. Her name is Elisabeth Elliot. If you have not heard her story, you need to! Here is just a brief bio if you are interested, but there is so much more to it than this: http://www.elisabethelliot.org/about.html.

She has taught me so much of what I have learned about being a faithful and grace-filled daughter and servant of God, wife, and mother. If you have not read her book, Let Me Be a Woman, I highly recommend you to do so. I am currently reading The Shaping of a Christian Family. I'll let you know how it goes.

She is an incredibly faithful and Spirit-filled woman, and it was one of the most surreal and beautiful moments of my life to shake her hand and look into her eyes. Her health is such that she was unable to utter more than, "Hello" to me, but it was still one of the most memorable moments of my life. I beg the Lord to make me even half the servant of Him, wife, and mother she is and was.

Lesser Glories

2009-05-10T20:46:00.003-05:00

This may be random, but I came across a poem today that I wrote at least 5 years ago during a difficult season of wrestling and striving to keep Christ at the center of my affections. It's a little rough around the edges, looking back, but I thought I would still share it with you.

Lesser Glories

Longing to long for you
while longing for another.
Hoping to hope in you
but hoping in the other.
Wanting to want just you
and wanting just one other.

Lesser glory, easy to find
Highest beauty, a jewel refined.
In search for gold, I stop at the rust
I look for You and settle for dust.

How could I be so foolish?
How can I even compare?
How am I so selfish?
When my Father is so rare?

Lesser glory, easy to find.
Highest beauty, a jewel refined.
In search for gold, I stop at the rust.
I look for You and settle for dust.

You alone can satisfy.
You can fill my soul.
Me, the apple of your eye?
You store my prayers in bowls?

Lesser glory, easy to find.
Highest beauty, a jewel refined.
In search for gold, I stop at the rust.
I look for You and settle for dust.

You alone supply my needs
with your glorious riches in Christ.
How can I even begin to think
of clinging to a lie?

Lesser glory, I don't want to find
Highest Beauty, with You I will bind.
In search for gold, I continue on
Not stopping until the lesser is gone.

Please!

2009-05-06T13:19:00.003-05:00

Son,

I love you dearly, but PLEASE GET OFF OF MY SPINE! YOU ARE KILLING ME!

Love,

Mom

Letter to my Son,

2009-04-28T12:37:00.006-05:00

For my son who has yet to be named,

Oh, how I love you already. I feel you kicking, even now. I wonder if you are smiling. I have been thinking about you a lot lately. It is becoming more real to my heart what is about to happen. I am anxious to meet you, but not ready. Your room is a disaster. Full of boxes and things we have yet to unpack. It will be ready in time for you.

I just wanted you to know your mom's prayers about you this week. In my own fear, I have wondered often about all that is about to change. I have trembled at how the "busyness" of your arrival, your feedings, your sleeping schedule could distract me from knowing and loving Christ more. I am coming to the realization that my early mornings at a coffee shop with nothing but my Bible and journal are coming to an end.

But the Lord is teaching me to beg. To beg for my eyes to see all the newness and changes as avenues to more of Him, for all of us, for you. I can only imagine how having a son of my own might help me to know my Father's heart for His Son more. I can only dream of how feeding you might allow me to see more clearly how the Father feeds His children. I can only hope that as I teach you things my Father might show me more how He teaches and instructs His sons and daughters.

For all these things I hope and beg Christ. I really can hardly wait to meet you. In the meantime, I am praying for the Lord to prepare your heart to meet His salvation. To live for His salvation. To serve in His salvation, whether here or to the ends of the earth. And to eventually die in His salvation.

I love you, son. I cannot wait to meet you. Your dad loves you too...he doesn't even know how much yet. You are going to ruin his heart for good! When I told him you were coming, he wept and said over and over with tears streaming down his face, "What grace, what a gift!"

See you in just a few more months.

Love,

Mom

Conversation with a Friend

2009-04-25T13:40:00.002-05:00

Sitting over chicken salad sandwiches on the Denton square, a good friend and I talked and wrestled over the beautiful and brutal process of sanctification. To be clear to all who might come across this post, allow me to define the words justification and sanctification. Justification is the act of God by which people are declared, through the person and work of Jesus Christ, to be in the right before Him. Sanctification is the act of God's grace by which one's affections are purified, or alienated from sin and the world, and exalted to a supreme love to God. Or, put simply, justification is the act being justified by and before God, while sanctification is the process of being purified or made holy.

My friend was encouraged this week by the words of a person of influence in her life, and as she translated these same words to me, I was challenged and empowered as she had been.

This person expressed to my friend the way that he pictures two different types of legalism. The first type of legalism can be pictured like baths outside the gates of heaven. People fill the baths and are desperately trying to rub themselves clean of all impurities before approaching the gate to enter, hoping their cleanliness will get them in. These people do not understand justification by grace.

The second type of legalism, as described by my friend's friend, can be pictured like baths outside the entrance to the throne room of God. The people here bathe vigorously, trying to make themselves as spotless as possible before approaching the door that leads to the throne room of God. They believe in justification by grace, but fail to understand sanctification by the same grace. They say in their hearts, "God, you saved me, now I must change me."

A great passage where much of this conversation comes from is Galatians 3:1-3 (ESV):

"O foolish Galatians! Who has bewitched you? It was before your eyes that Jesus Christ was publicly portrayed as crucified. Let me ask you only this: Did you receive the Spirit by works of the law or by hearing with faith? Are you so foolish? Having begun by the Spirit, are you now being perfected by the flesh?"

Sanctification by grace. An interesting thought. I typically err on the side of wanting to beat our bodies into obedience to Christ...which is still a good idea. However, attempting to beat the sin out of our bodies, while failing to trust that no matter how hard we beat our fists against our chests God alone must begin and finish this work, misses the entire point.

The same brokenness that led us to beg God for mercy to save us, should lead us to beg God for the same mercy to change us, to purify everything out of us that does not resemble His likeness.
My friend and I needed this reminder this week. We kick and scream and fight our sin until we lose our voices and run out of the strength to even stand. We lie defeated, all the while, having forgotten to lift our eyes to heaven, to the God of mercy who waits to perfect us.

Forgive us, Father, for trusting you to justify us, but trusting ourselves to sanctify us. Here we lie, voices gone, fists bloody and sore, trusting you and begging you to finish the work you began in us. Sola gratia.

Letting You in on My Thoughts Today

2009-04-16T12:23:00.009-05:00

I often hear the word "sexy" used to describe ideas such as selling everything you have to move to the poorest, dirtiest, most pagan parts of Africa. "Sexy" is giving up every comfort, every cute outfit or new piece of furniture, and simplifying your life down to nothing but a pair of pants and a gray t-shirt, which you wear everyday while feeding and living amongst the homeless and hurting in your city. So if we are calling these things "sexy", then what might not seem as "sexy" could be things like sitting at a desk all day at work, or watching kids at a daycare, or changing diapers. Or teaching wealthy people how to take care of their bodies through nutrition and exercise. Not as sexy, in my estimation.

So here is my dilemma. I long for sexy. I have deep yearnings in my soul to sell everything we have to move to those poorest and most pagan nations. About midway through high school the Lord worked in my soul a deep passion for the nations. I took many trips overseas and went months at a time to do mission work all over Asia. And in the midst of all this, and in the midst of my desire to be radical, I always sensed the Lord shepherding my heart to America. To stay where I never wanted to stay for fear of being caught up in the temporary instead of the eternal. It is harder to be radical here, harder to get caught up in the eternal, and at the same time there is a constant checking of the heart that must take place to be sure that I do not want radical for radical's sake, but to want Christ for Christ's sake. So if I am to define radical, I must define it like this: what does it look like, here in America, as a pastor's wife and soon-to-be mom, to seek and pursue and love the Lord my God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength? Because if I am allowed to be brutally honest, the things I just listed are not usually as sexy to me. And at the same time, I am realizing that the reason they are not as sexy is because of the way I often see selling all your possessions to move to Africa as a more sacrificial, radical calling than the calling to be a wife and mommy. Tragic and untrue, I know.

But here's the deal. I don't need sexy. I need Jesus. Desperately. I need Him to lead me and guide me into seeking and loving Him with my entire heart as I cook a meal for my husband, or nurse my children, or do the laundry for the seventh time that day, or lead my girls' Bible study. I need to see Jesus in all these things. I must find Him, and I must glorify and worship Him, and I must have His help to see that all these things done unto Him can be radical, as defined above.

The goal is a radical heart. A radical heart that flows into a life that looks however He wants it to look. And I seek above all else a heart that radically, shamelessly loves, adores, and worships the Creator of this world.

So Father, in the midst of my yearning to be removed from the temporary, let me find what it looks like to sell everything I have for the nations, in the context in which I find myself. You are better.

Shalom!

2009-04-01T22:20:00.003-05:00

Well, we are back from Israel...obviously...and I apologize for not having updated sooner. I plan on posting pictures very soon, along with a bit of commentary, but it is just in my nature to not load pictures onto the computer until the event is so far removed that no one even cares anymore. I will try to be better in the future, but for now, my nature is taking over.

I always get nervous when I haven't posted in awhile, because I feel like I need a grand re-entry post. And unfortunately, today, I am feeling uninspired about any humorous or meaningful stories or events.

SO...let me think...

Oh! I have an idea. Let me share with you 5 perplexing things I have learned about pregnancy thus far.

1. You start counting the "40 weeks of pregnancy" about 2 weeks before you are ever pregnant. So, you are actually pregnant BEFORE you are ever pregnant. Profound.

2. Number two, average pregnancy is actually TEN months, not nine. In school I learned that there are about 4 weeks in a month. SO...if pregnancy duration is about 40 weeks, and you divide 40 by 4, that equals 10...as in 10 months. Whatever doctor or scientist who ever said 9 months was really just trying to trick us into thinking we weren't pregnant all that long. I mean 10 months is practically a year people!

3. "Morning sickness" is not just reserved for the morning. Thanks for the warning.

4. People begin to think you are incapable of lifting anything over 2 pounds, and when you do pick up the 2 small boxes of Girl Scout cookies at the grocery store, they scream and yell at you to put them down! (This one may drive me mad before it's all over.)

5. Apparently you are not supposed to fall when you are pregnant, which I have done TWICE. The first time was when I was sitting on our rickety old porch swing, begging Beau to come sit beside me. He refused for several minutes, arguing that it had been "creeky", and that it would fall. "PLEASE!" I begged. Finally, he consented, and after about 20 blissful seconds of porch swing cuddle time, we crashed to the ground. Praise the Lord Pumpkin is good and insulated in there! Sorry bud. Your mom is persistent and idiodic.

The second time I fell I was walking on the Denton square to where Beau was going to pick me up. I saw him at the stoplight in front of me and began to wave wildly as I walked towards him.

Now what happened next I cannot explain to you, because all I can remember is that one second I was walking and waving wildly, and the next second I was head first on the ground. After asking the Lord to "Save my life!" (which I have been made brutally made fun of for ever since), I recovered just enough to look behind me to see what I had tripped on. Nothing. There was nothing. Who trips and falls on their head over NOTHING? Brilliant, Kimbo.

Beau rushed me to the "MINOR emergency clinic", because I was sure I had, at the very least, a concussion. I am so glad I'm not dramatic. When the doctor walked in and I elaborately and passionately told him what happened and that I was probably bleeding internally, he laughed and said, "You are fine." Excuse me? Why is the doctor laughing at me? And now Beau is laughing. And all the while, I am sitting here, bleeding from the head, and my forehead size is growing larger by the second. The doctor gives me a cloth to wipe my head and sends me home with anti-infection meds from the cut. This can't be all. I mean, I hit HARD! Beau consoled me on the way out and unsuccessfully tried to convince me that I had not been over dramatic, but I could see his side smile smirk. But in the end, I am just glad I didn't land on Pumpkin. That poor kid has had quite a ride in here.

More on perplexing things about pregnancy next time! Love you guys. Can't wait for Pumpkin to be here to meet you.

You Guessed It!

2009-02-16T14:19:00.005-06:00

Beau shaved his beard!

Oh...and we're pregnant. Have I mentioned that yet? I am currently in my 12th week and don't quite have the "baby bump" yet, but every morning when I look in the mirror and think it has arrived, I show Beau to which he always responds, "Baby, I don't see anything." It's okay, I know it's there. ;)

I read in a book the other day that our baby is currently the size of a small lime, which to me sounds adorable. I LOVE limes! Especially in a diet coke. Or perhaps sprinkled over a salad. HOWEVER, as I skipped ahead to the end of my book, against Beau's warnings, I was appalled to discover that by the time I deliver, Lord willing, our child will be the size of a PUMPKIN. If you are anything like me, you immediately begin running through the mental images of the pumpkin patch you walked through a few months ago. All different shapes, sizes, and weights. But for some reason, when I hear "PUMPKIN", I immediately think of the HUGE pumpkins my roommates and I used to carve in college. INSIDE OF ME.

I begin to hyperventilate. Beau attempts to calm me down, pleading with me to just take it "a day at a time." I relax a little, but am still unable to get the mental image of our beloved baby pumpkin out of my mind. If you have heard of any more pleasant 40-week-old fetus size descriptions, PLEASE send them my way. In the meantime, however, the little baby growing inside of me, whether boy or girl, will be named Pumpkin.

And on a more serious note, Beau and I are rejoicing in the Lord daily for this miraculous, divine, and precious gift He has given us for these 12 weeks so far. Our constant prayer lately has been, "This child is yours, Lord, not ours." We are thankful for each day this little one's heart is beating, and prayerfully anticipate with joy how the Lord will reveal and glorify Himself through this child.

Until we meet, we love you Pumpkin.

Expert Traveler

2009-02-05T21:14:00.004-06:00

Allow me to share with you just one simple story from me and Beau's five day trip to Minneapolis, Minnesota. We went for a Desiring God Pastor's Conference and came away with far more. I will now set the stage for a short story that took place the last day of our trip.

The bright yellow school bus, filled with about 70 men and me, took us quickly and warmly to the airport for our 1:25 p.m. departure. Beau and I quickly trek to the American Airlines check-in line, which we pleasantly find to be quite short. I check my bag first, and then proceed to security. Beau follows slowly behind.

I approach the entrance to the long maze that is the airport security line, you know the one lined with black elastic strapping that is supposed to keep you from cutting in line or something? To my amazement, there are two brilliant options of mazes to follow. This is a phenomenon I have never seen before, but that I fervently hope to see again. The left line has a sign at its beginning that reads, "Casual Traveler". On the sign is the silhouette of a young man with a hat on who is carrying behind him a rolling suitcase. The right line has a sign at its beginning that reads, "Expert Traveler". On this sign there is a silhouette of a slender woman in a business suit, carrying only her briefcase.

I don't even have to think twice. Here's the deal. I travel all the time; and every time I travel, I always seem to get behind the guy who doesn't know to take his laptop out of his bag, or the older lady who doesn't know that you can't carry 72 ounces of liquid all in the same container, or the guy who is just plain angry that he has to take his shoes off and can't believe there is not better "foot protection matting" to walk through the security line on. I am telling you, I am ALWAYS in line behind this guy, and each time I think to myself, "Has he flown since 9/11?" Or, "Man, I sure am glad I have this process down."

As I make my way towards the front of the line, I hear laughing behind me. I look back. Beau has now seen the brilliant signage and finds it hilarious that I consider myself to be an "Expert Traveler." I am unamused. As he follows close behind in the same line, questioning why I think I am such an expert, I begin to explain to him all the reasons I am so great at getting effieciently through airport security. "I fly all the time!" "I always know exactly what to do." "I take my laptop out of my bag." "I always remember to take my shoes off."

I now approach the older man at the pulpit-looking-thing who is ready to check my boarding pass and I.D., which I had out ready for him to initial (or something), so as to quickly get to the next person in line. I am now unloading my belongings into separate containers and placing them on the conveyer belt confidently, while still trying to convince Beau how much of an expert I am. When all of a sudden, the old man at the pulpit sarcastically pipes up, "Hey why don't you take your backpack out of the bin and place it flat on the belt, EXPERT!" I stop. Excuse me? Did the TSA pulpiteer guy really just get an attitude with me? And then I hear, "Oh, and why don't you take your coat off too, Expert?" He then glances over at Beau, winks and laughs, to which my husband responds with tears of laughter.

I am hacked at this point. I do not laugh but continue walking, attempting to ignore Beau's and the pulpiteer's snickering. I decide to not lose heart but to proceed confidently through the security line. I walk through the metal detector and look back at Beau and Mr. Attitude haughtily that I made it through without a single beep. Boy, am I good at taking off all potentially beep-able items.

I quickly pull my backpack off the conveyer belt, and wait for my purse. Where is my purse? "BAG CHECK!!!", I hear behind me. Oh no, what now?!?

Ooooooooh. Yesterday, when I was so thirsty I thought I would dehydrate in five minutes or less, I spent three whole dollars on a dumb, normal-sized water bottle, because it was all I could find within a 100 yard radius. How could I throw out such a pricey object, the only souvenir I purchased while on our trip? A woman approaches, "M'am, are you aware that you cannot have any more than 4 ounces of liquid per container in your carry on?" "Yes, I am aware." I hang my head in defeat and do not even look back to see the delighted faces of my husband and the unbelievably rude TSA guy.

I walk fast so as not to even have to hear Beau's mockery, but he quickly catches up and revels in every bit of it. My new beloved nickname from my husband is "Expert".

Oh, and I still think the two line idea is brilliant and am still convinced that I am an expert when it comes to airport security. I will prove it next time. If I ever, please Lord, see this pair of beautiful signs again.

Signed,

Expert Traveler

When in Rome...

2009-01-18T17:59:00.004-06:00

I came across this picture the other day and couldn't believe I forgot to share it with you after our trip to Europe last May. Or maybe I didn't forget as much as I just deemed it entirely too inappropriate for a blog. Well, apparently my standards have changed.

This was one of our most impactful, life-changing moments on our visit to Rome, Italy. The pictures were taken right in the corner of St. Peter's square, near St. Peter's Basillica and the Pope's abode.

Zoomed out...

Zoomed in...

I can't believe I just posted these awful photos. If you can't tell what is going on in the above photos, I cannot explain it to you, for I fear that might be crossing a different kind of line, a risk I am unwilling to take.

I have to go puke now.

You are You are Lord

2009-01-11T21:08:00.003-06:00

Just wanted to share with you guys a song that has really encouraged my heart this week and that I have listened to over and over again.

I didn't really want to put the video on here, but I am not smart enough to figure out how to get the song on here without it. I hope it encourages you today.

The song is called, "You are You are Lord", by Hillsong.

A First and Most Likely Last...

2008-12-28T14:34:00.004-06:00

I just cannot resist the compelling and urging within me to post this recipe I made up/found. I am not typically a recipe post-er (see all past updates), but I just love chili, and my family's excellent but time-consuming recipe is just more than I can handle some days with all the working, kids running around, and soccer games. Or at least, my dreaming of these things to come. ;)

Kimbo's Kind of Made Up, Kind of Not, Super Fast, Dreaming About Soccer Games Chili

2 lbs. ground beef (I prefer 93% lean, or something like that?)
2 (14.5 oz) canned diced tomatoes
2 (15 oz) cans kidney beans, drained and rinsed
2 (1.25 oz) packages chili seasoning (I used McCormicks I think. Don't really wanna go dig in my trash to confirm.)
1 yellow onion, chopped
I also added some water...just personal preference here to make it a tad more soupy. Probably about 1/2 a cup to a whole cup. Didn't measure. Could have been 7 cups.

Saute beef in skillet over medium-high heat until evenly brown. Drain off grease. Add onion and saute a couple more minutes. Then add tomatoes, beans, chili seasoning mix, and water. Stir and simmer on medium for about 15 minutes.

I added just a little bit of shredded cheese on top and served with whole wheat cornbread. Beau and I both loved it, especially considering it took me like 20 minutes!

I am having a major out of body experience with the recipe posting, so I have to go before I no longer recognize myself. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy the chili!

(I would post a picture, but pictures of chili tend to make me gag more than drool. Thought I would spare you.)

Why I Am Looking For Somewhere Else to Stay This Week

2008-12-17T14:29:00.002-06:00

So Beau had the exterminator come out this week while he is out of town. We haven't had a lot of bug problems but still feel like we finally need to get on the "quarterly bug spraying plan". Perfect. I'll meet him at the house at 11 a.m. on Tuesday. No problem.

Bug Sprayer Man: Hi, are you Mrs. Hughes?

Me: Ummm...yes. You can call me Kimberly.

BSM: So, Mrs. Hughes, are you having any particular bug problems?

Me: I'm not sure. Sometimes, after we go out of town, when we get back in town, I will turn on a light and see a little bug run by.

BSM: (silence & look of confusion)

Me: Can you just do the generic spray thing?

(15 minutes later)

BSM: Knock, knock

Me: Come on back in. You don't have to knock.

BSM: M'am, I have a couple of suggestions.

Me: Okay?

BSM: Under your sink, in the back of the cabinet, there is about a half an inch of space where something could sneak through.

Me: (GASP!)

BSM: It's no big deal, m'am. All you need to do is stuff some steel wool down there, and your problem will be solved.

Me: So do they sell that at Lowe's or something? Is that the stuff I scrub my dishes with? Do they sell it in sheets?

BSM: (silence & look of confusion)

Me: Allright, well what was your other suggestion?

BSM: If you'll look right here, around your front door, there is about a half an inch of space where something could get through. You can tell because the light shines through all around the perimeter of your door.

Me: (GASP!)

BSM: It's no problem, m'am. All you need to do is get some sticky styrofoam and line your door frame with it.

Me: Oh, okay. Can I buy that at Lowe's or something? Is it in like a tape kind of form?

BSM: (silence & look of confusion)

Me: Allright, thanks. Where do I sign? Are we signed up for the quarterly bug spraying?

BSM: Yes m'am. We will send you a card in 3 months.

Me: Perfect! Thanks again.

BSM: Oh, and one more thing. Don't be surprised if the bugs come out during the next few days. There is nothing to worry about. They will die shortly.

Me: WAIT! So are you telling me that there will be dead bugs and/or roaches randomly dispersed throughout my house, that I then have to pick up and flush down the toilet?

BSM: Yes m'am, but don't worry because they will be dead. Thanks again! (The door shuts behind him. I am still standing there, jaw dropped, unable to move for at least 5 minutes.)

(Phone call to Beau after I regain composure)

Me: BABY! DID YOU REALIZE THE BUG SPRAYING WOULD MAKE BUGS COME OUT, AND I AM HERE ALL ALONE TO TAKE CARE OF IT?!?!?

Beau: Baby, you'll be fine. They will be dead.

Me: WHY IS IT THAT EVERYONE THINKS A DEAD BUG IS SOMEHOW FAR MORE PLEASANT THAN A LIVE BUG?!?!?

Beau: I love you baby. I'll see you in a couple of days.

Me: NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Grappling with Gratitude and Grace

2008-11-26T10:57:00.003-06:00

The Denton Record Chronicle asked Beau to write an article for the paper for Thanksgiving week. I love what he wrote, and I wanted to share it with you. And, if you live in Denton, be looking in your morning paper. :)

I am often confronted with the haunting reality that I am far less grateful than I ought to be. This may not be the best time of the year for a pastor to confess something like that, but I don’t think I’m alone in this. I am on a quest to discover how I can cultivate a grateful heart this holiday season.

My superficial attempts to motivate me toward gratitude fail me time and again. Simply comparing myself to the “less fortunate” produces only fleeting reactions of gratitude, but fails to sustain an attitude of genuine thanksgiving in my heart and life. And, that’s really what I seek.

On my journey to deeper gratefulness, I have found it enlightening that the word grateful comes from the same Latin root as the word grace. Gratitude holds hands with grace, and it is not a stretch to say that until we understand grace, we may never be truly grateful. If this is true, then my gratitude problem is really a grace problem. Lasting gratitude springs forth from a heart that has been transformed by grace.

Maybe this should not surprise us. Grace is generally defined as “the unmerited favor of God,” and it was this understanding that served as the inspiration behind the creation of America’s holiday of gratitude, Thanksgiving Day. Grace had so impacted our forefathers’ hearts that they observed a feast each year to celebrate God’s unmerited divine assistance. Their deep gratitude was compelled by an awareness of God’s grace lavished upon them. Both then and now, true gratitude is fueled by a robust belief in grace.

As a pastor, I am well versed in the language of grace, but I am afraid that my heart has not been transformed by it nearly as much as my lips have. Deep down, my lack of gratitude reveals that what I really believe is that I have earned all the blessings that I enjoy daily, not that they are unmerited and given to me by a gracious God. This deep-seated belief of mine – common, I believe, in the U.S. -- paralyzes my ability to be truly grateful in the deepest sense of the word. For how can I be grateful for blessings that I believe I have earned? Why would I be overwhelmed with thanksgiving for benefits that I merit? I won’t. It is impossible to be thankful for blessings and benefits that we think we deserve.

To cultivate a heart of gratitude, I am spending this holiday season meditating on God’s grace. I am convinced that until grace collides with my heart, gratitude will remain a mood that surfaces from time to time, but that may never become a state of heart worthy of a holiday.

WAY Overdue...

2008-10-21T15:08:00.003-05:00

Sorry about the "way-overdue-ness" of this post, but better late than never, right? I see myself as a consistent blogger, as in at least once every month to two months. I just wanted to send out a teeny update about our lives lately...

1. Beau went to Minneapolis last week to learn from some people at a church there (aka John Piper)...no big deal. He calls him "John" now, and no, I'm not bitter nor jealous.
2. While he was gone, I went to Lubbock for a couple days to hang out with my almost-two-year-old niece. Her name is McKinley, but I call her Scooter. I have no idea why.
3. I have a new obsession with chocolate milk. Those who know me, don't go crazy...it's soy.
4. I am reading Reason for God by Timothy Keller, as I was motivated by a sweet Japanese girl who approached me and asked, "How do you know God exists?" We are reading it together.
5. I realized I do not like any kind of pumpkin anything that goes in the mouth. Only on porches or as part of a wreath.
6. I started an extremely part-time job at Denton High School working with students who are at risk of not graduating, teaching life skills, character building, etc. I have also become a pro at teaching and playing UNO, Cranium, and Catch Phrase, of which UNO is my fave. And yes, this will help them graduate. (?)

7. Beau turned 27, so we felt it was our duty to go get one of the best steaks we have ever tasted in our lives at Bob's.
8. Beau is on staff retreat this week, hopefully kicking butt at the Krapu Bowl football tournament. Go baby!
9. He is not allowed to leave town again for at least 6 years.

Love you guys!

What is the What?

2008-09-24T22:42:00.004-05:00

While Beau was in Sudan, I read a heart-wrenching, yet hopeful book called, What is the What? by Dave Eggers. I would love to explain the title, but you'll just have to read it for yourself, as it is revealed more and more as the book continues on.

It is a novel, highly based on a true story, about a young Sudanese man who desperately tries to communicate his story in a way that Westerners will understand. He does this through an American editor, Dave Eggers. He, like thousands of Sudanese boys his age, undergoes more terrible pain and suffering than any of us could ever imagine; but at the end of the day, his story encouraged me and gave me hope. There are glimpses of his "faith journey" throughout the entire book, from severe doubts to extreme assuredness, and I found it to be so beautifully raw.

After "Achak" arrives in the United States as a "lost boy", he is given a book written by Mother Teresa and Brother Roger. He finds their meditations to be inspiring at times, and maddening at others. Here is what he reads from Brother Rogers, quoting St. Augustine.

"One day Augustine was able to say to Christ: 'Light of my heart, do not let my darkness speak to me.' In his trials, St. Augustine realized that the presence of the Risen Christ had never left him; it was the light in the midst of his darkness."

And Achak thinks to himself, "There have been times when those words have helped me and times when I found those words hollow and unconvincing. These authors, for whom I have great respect, still do not seem to know the doubts that one might have in the angriest corners of one's soul. Too often they tell me to answer my doubts with prayer, which seems very much like addressing one's hunger by thinking of food. But still, even when I am frustrated, I look elsewhere and can find a new passage that speaks to me. There is this, from Mother Teresa: 'Suffering, if it is accepted together, borne together, is joy. Remember that the passion of Christ ends always in the joy of the resurrection of Christ, so when you feel in your own heart the suffering of Christ, remember the resurrection has yet to come--the joy of Easter has to dawn.' And she provides a prayer that I have prayed many times in these last weeks, and that I whisper tonight in my car, on this street of overhanging trees and amber streetlights.

'Lord Jesus, make us realize

that it is only by frequent deaths of ourselves

and our self-centered desires

that we can come to live more fully;

for it is only by dying with you

that we can rise with you.'"

In Achak's moments of both horrifying doubt and of unmoving faith, I find encouragement for my soul. For though I don't neccessarily agree with all his meditations, as if I could even closely relate, I see that this character is chasing something, as we all seem to be. He is searching for truth in the midst of the darkest of dark places, and he seems, to some degree, to find it. And I remember Romans 1:20, "For since the creation of the world God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse."

I am thankful for glimpses into the stories of others, stories that I will never understand, but that I can at least peek into. I wonder if he (Achak) is encouraged by our stories as well. Somehow I think the Lord delights in working this way.

Wow!

2008-09-17T21:59:00.001-05:00

For my friends and family, here is what one of the other guys on the trip (Bleecker) wrote on his blog about today's occurences...PRAISE THE LORD!!!

"All flights were canceled today leaving Darfur, so we have stayed here today. We were supposed to fly out early tomorrow morning from Khartoum and then catch our other 5 flights before getting home-Those flight aren't happening either. Matt has been stressed working with an airline company who didn't want to work with us and has had an upset stomach on top of that. A few hours ago, Katherine Rudisill, an incredible woman and good friend, drove to see my wife, called us from my home and told us that she woke up this morning with truth and a word for us. We were all sitting around the computer listening to her speak truth that affected all of us in one way or another. She told us that he had given her a passage which says, "For even when we came into Macedonia our flesh had no rest, but we were afflicted on every side: conflicts without, fears within. But him, who comforts the depressed, comforted us by the coming of Titus." She told us that we needed to confess things to one another and ask for forgiveness from one another and pray and worship and ask him to renew our hope, our joy and our knowledge that he will move and break and heal here. After we got off the phone, that is exactly what we did. It was an amazing time for us. When we were done, Matt's dad called and told us that the flights tomorrow are taken care of, that we weren't going to have to pay the thousands we thought we were going to have to pay, and that we should be home the same exact time we were planning on coming home all along. Incredible.Thank you for thinking about us out here. We love you all and can't wait to be home."

Hurry home, babe, I love you!

Please Pray Our Boys Home...

2008-09-17T09:50:00.002-05:00

Hey everybody! I'm writing to ask you all to please be praying for Beau and the other guys. Their flight from Darfur to Khartoum (where all the rest of their flights connect) got cancelled this morning. Not for any particular reason. Someone in Darfur just wanted to cancel the flight. So obviously they will miss all their other flights home. They are scheduled to leave Darfur tomorrow morning instead of this morning, but it could also get cancelled for no reason, and they are still trying to work out changing their flights from Khartoum to home. They don't have anything to do there, because it is 140 degrees, and the people there have nothing more for them to do. They are so ready to be home and are all trying to make the most of the time, but are having a difficult time. They are all a little homesick, but Beau says it is good for his heart as well. Obviously, things could be a lot worse, but they would still very much appreciate your prayers. The Lord has definitely answered almost every, if not every, prayer for this trip, and for that we are all so thankful.

Thank you for your continued prayers. I will keep you "posted".

Love you all.

Report from Sudan...

2008-09-07T10:34:00.004-05:00

Beau sent me an email this morning, and I wanted to share the updates with you. Thank you for your continued prayers...

"We're here in Yei, Sudan. We arrived yesterday afternoon at around noon. The pilots got lost on the way twice, once we turned around and went back to the airport. The Bishop of the church picked us up and we went straight to the orphanage in Lura (Lura means heaven). It was... well, it was exactly what you would think of. It's incredible that all of the children I saw yesterday were orphans, that none of them had their parents. The widows were all there too. It really was overwhelming. I praise the Lord that He has had me thinking about these people and circumstances frequently for the last five years. I can't imagine the weight I would've felt if I hadn't. It's incredibly bittersweet to be able to put faces with these people and circumstances that I've thought about and that have effected my life so much. It's more than just an idea or philosophy of life now. It's personal.

Preaching this morning was way awkward for me. I already don't like to speak to people that I don't really know, but I spoke through the interpreter (the Bishop's wife) and had no idea what to say... or how to say it. There were like 500 people in worship. Their service was so great, not pretentious at all. I just read from 1 Corinthians 15 and encouraged them to "stay rooted and grounded" in the gospel, and then I quit. Seriously, it lasted like 10 minutes. The people treated me like a King though. They were way too nice to whitey.

My favorite moment from the trip so far has been a moment that I had almost immediately after I emailed you last. We walked down to the Mosque and began a conversation with the Imams. They told us that it would be okay if we sat in the back and observed their prayer service. So we did. As we were sitting, of course all the people were looking at the muzungus (Ugandan for white boy). There were these two young girls that were looking in from the door on the other side of the mosque. I waved at them. One of them, wearing a pink dress and white head covering, pointed at herself as if to say, "Me?" I nodded my head yes and waved again. She waved back. A minute later she made her way around the building and sat down right in front of me. Like right in front of me. I looked at Elkins, and he shrugged his shoulders as if to say, "I don't know, man. I've never seen that before." Her name was Sophie. She told me that she was five and that she attended school at the Muslim school connected to the mosque. She sat there with me the entire time, until it was time to pray. She said, "Hold my orange. I have to go pray. I'll be back."

After prayer, we were swarmed by all the little boys (the women were upstairs). As they crowded in, I heard a little voice through the caged window, "Beau." It was Sophie. I handed her the orange through the window. As we left, she grabbed my hand and walked with me back up to the street. I gave her a hug and left.

For whatever reason, I was so weighed down by meeting this little girl. Unless the Holy Spirit intervenes, Sophie, this five year old, beautiful child is going to grow up Muslim. It was such a hard thing for me to think about. It's been even harder the last few days as I've asked myself the question, "Do I really believe that the gospel is for this little girl... or do I believe that the gospel is only for people just like me?" My theology says one thing. I'm unsure if my reality says the same thing.

Michael took a great picture of me and Sophie. Up till this point, she has definitely been the face and name that God has pushed into my heart. The Lord has encouraged me so much already on this trip.

I feel your prayers and miss your face. I can't wait to see you. Only 11 more days."

My Husband is Going to Sudan for 16 Days...

2008-08-31T20:38:00.014-05:00

Beau leaves for Sudan on Wednesday, and I am so excited for him and all that he will see and experience there. Just to give you an update on his trip, what he will be doing there, etc., I'll allow you to see part of a letter he wrote to his mom to explain the trip...

"We leave for Africa on Wednesday, September 3. After 24 hours of flying, we’ll land in Khartoum, the capital city of Sudan. I’m unsure how long or what we will be doing there (I’ll forward you the itinerary as soon as I get it). After our time in Khartoum, we’ll move southwest towards the western part of Sudan, Darfur. Darfur is the part of the country that you hear so much about on the news. Over the past few years, genocide and horrific things have taken place there. In fact, very few people are even allowed into Darfur because it has been so ravaged. We’re allowed in because we will be spending some time with the leaders of Thirst No More ( http://www.thirstnomore.org/ ), a non-profit organization that builds wells and provides clean water for all of the people and refugees that have been ransacked because of the atrocities that have taken place in their lives. Because we know them, they have gotten us visas to go into Darfur. I fully expect my time in Darfur to be the most eye opening and life transforming weeks of my life. I anticipate seeing some things that I will never be able to unsee.

After our time in Darfur, we will move to the southern part of Sudan to finish up our trip there. One of the men going on the trip with us has founded an orphanage in southern Sudan that we will be working with and observing while in the south (http://www.hisvoiceforsudan.com/home). Apparently, I will be preaching at a church that his orphanage is connected to. Someone will translate what I say into Sudanese, so that should be a neat experience.

As for how you can pray for me… I’m not really sure. I know that I probably won’t be able to rescue anyone while I’m there. I know that I can’t mend or fix all the things that have been broken in this nation. I even know that I will most likely learn and receive much more out of this trip from the Sudanese than the Sudanese will from me. That’s just how trips like this turn out. I think one of my prayers is becoming that, as much as I can while I am there, God would allow me to feel the weight and burden that our Sudanese brothers and sisters in Christ experience on a daily basis. In America, we’re so insulated from so many of the stark realities that our brothers and sisters daily toil through around the globe. I simply want to taste the weight of that and to never, ever forget it. I want the people that I meet, the friendships that we develop, and the needs that we see to cause me to live life differently, not out of guilt or condemnation, but because I have seen the worthlessness of “stuff” and the beauty of the gospel more clearly through our neighbors in Africa.

So, in a nutshell, those are my thoughts thus far. I’m sure you can sift through the paragraphs above and find some things to pray about. I love you. Talk with you soon!"

So this is what he will be doing. I will write more updates either throughout the trip, or when he gets back. Please be praying for the team while they are gone. Darfur is obviously not the safest place in the world right now, so if you could be praying for these men and their wives at home, I know we would all would all really appreciate it. First names are Beau, Michael, Vernon, Matt, and Jamie.

We are so looking forward to what the Lord will do! We love you and appreciate your prayers!

Oh, and as a sidenote...Beau and I went shopping yesterday for the following items...

-2 dri-fit shirts

-1 pair dri-fit pants

-2 pair dri-fit underwear, my personal favorite

-inflatable mat

-inflatable pillow

-water tablets

Yes, this is all he will be taking. Please pray he will do laundry on some kind of washboard at night! PLEASE. I am doing all I can to send a travel-size bottle of Woolite. The rest is in his hands. God bless you!

Learning to Fish

2008-07-26T20:50:00.003-05:00

Beau: "Baby, don't look in the back of the car. There are treasures back there for your birthday."

Kimbo: "What are they?"

"You'll see when we get there."

We pull up to the quaint, beloved ranch, and as I am unloading the cooler, Beau walks into the house with two long, golden poles, and says, "Let's go fishing!"

As "outdoorsy" as I like to think I am, I have NEVER been fishing. It has always been a dream of mine...you know...like on the movie the Notebook...except they weren't fishing I guess...just sitting in a little wooden boat surrounded by thousands of ducks. Our picture was slightly different.

"Is the picnic lunch packed?"

"Yes! Ready to go!"

We pull up to the beautiful inlet of land we chose for our perfect fishing spot. We then proceed to attach the "bait" to the "hooks", new terms I am learning. Apparently my sweet husband forgot to buy bait, so we ended up using things we found at our friends' ranch, such as Sour Patch Kids, green olives, and canned diced tomatoes. If you actually know how to fish...I'm so sorry for our embarrassment to the sport.

I begin to swing my pole in the air, like I have seen it done on television.

"KIMBERLY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!?! THAT THING IS LIKE A WEAPON! YOU COULD POKE MY EYE OUT! IT'S LIKE A GUN, AND YOU ARE POINTING IT AT ME!"

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know it was that dangerous. I'll try to be careful."

Beau walks away to what he sees to be the perfect spot for fishing. Apparently somewhere on the way to his newly found spot, through hundreds of trees and bushes, his hook got caught on a branch and was lost forever.

"Dang it! I forgot to bring the extra hooks! That's okay. I'll just watch you fish."

I became quite the pro at throwing out my "line" and "reeling it back in" when it got too close to the shore or to some other potentially dangerous object in the water. I watch my "bobber" for awhile. Nothing. I reel it back in for what I hope to be a further throw, right where the fish will be waiting for this delightful yellow Sour Patch Kid mixed with a bit of olive. The perfect meal for any kind of trout, salmon, or mahi mahi which I anticipated catching. I make sure Beau is out of the way, because I'm ready to really swing this one far. I bring the pole behind me for what looks like my tennis backhand, set my aim far in the distance, rear back, and RELEASE!

I hear Beau laughing behind me.

"Where did it go?", I asked.

"You see that tree right next to you?"

"Yea?"

"It's up there. Come on. Let's go home."

"But I haven't even caught anything yet!"

I pouted the whole way back to the ranch. I just knew I would catch my first fish. So we took our uneaten picnic lunch to eat at the ranch.

All the above events happened in a matter of about 15 minutes. But I have NOT given up. I will go fishing again soon, and I will catch my first fish, and I will NOT lose my line and pole in a tree ever again. I have learned my lesson.

Also, if anyone has one of those "bobber" things I could borrow, I would really appreciate it.

Mine is still in the tree.

More Than Taste

2008-07-14T21:44:00.004-05:00

I place the mouth-watering morsel on my tongue. Incredible. I chew once. Even better. I chew again. The taste is almost exhilarating. The morsel remains in my mouth for a while. I am for some reason, unable to swallow. It begins to lose its flavor after awhile. Yet the harder I try, the more impossible swallowing seems to be. I even become unfamiliar with what it tasted like to begin with. I can hardly remember. There are brief captions in my mind of what it tasted like and could have even 'felt' like had I been able to swallow it. I am left perhaps hungrier than at first.

So I find truth, or, my broken experiences with truth. There groans inside me a deep hunger for truth, something to cling to, something to become part of me, completely taking over my reality. My tastes of truth are incredible. They are whispered often in my ears before I sleep each night and as I rise each morning. The thing that makes me weary, however, is that I cannot seem to push these flavors, or the realities behind the flavors, into my soul. There are even times I feel that the all-familiar truths get caught somewhere between my mouth and my stomach. There is something within me, or perhaps without me, that keeps it there. Perhaps fear. Definitely unbelief.

I know I must play a part in this whole thing, and I know how my flesh loves to take over at times. I also know that the Lord is able to do this with or without my help. And that perhaps, at times, if not all times, the 'with' is the farthest thing from the answer. So I know all these things work together somehow; but I am caught up somewhere in the "How?" of it all.

My soul really does yearn. It yearns for You to change me. To do what I cannot. To cleave to what my soul is stubborn to believe. So I seek. So I hope. So I dream, knowing You want me to 'get it' far more than I do. Thanks for being patient with me. And thanks for sweet tastes and flavors along the way to keep me going.

I long for confidence in your love to rest assuredly in my soul.

Stuff White People Like

2008-06-22T20:43:00.000-05:00

You might have heard of this website already, but just in case you haven't, I must introduce you.

The website is called, "Stuff White People Like". A young, single white guy writes the top 103 things white people like most. He has us completely tagged, and it is absolutely sickening, in a hysterical kind of way.

Beau and I have been sitting on our couch reading the top 103 and laughing uncontrollably. PLEASE check it out. You will feel totally ashamed of everything you like, just as we were.

Pop a bag of popcorn, grab a water bottle, and get ready to feel totally exposed.

Enjoy!

http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.com/

P.S. Please check out #14 and #87...my personal favorites.

P.P.S. I would like to add to his list maps and small European cars (pictured above).

P.P.P.S. Feel free to comment on your favorites.

One Year Down...

2008-06-15T16:57:00.001-05:00

June 15th...our one year anniversary!

In honor of our anniversary, I couldn't help but to boast a bit about my husband to the blogging world.

My favorite things about my husband...

-the way he yells from bed after his long naps, "CUDDLE TIME!!!"

-how I have to remind him every night to "brush your teeth", or it will NOT happen

-how he hits his snooze button 46 times before he actually gets out of bed

-how he picks songs in the car and always says, "Baby, I wrote you this song."

-his smile when he is laughing really hard...usually because of something his dad says

-how he looks fearfully at me at restaurants when ordering mashed potatoes instead of a baked one

-how much he loves his family

-his love for children

-how he pastors my heart so gently and patiently
-how he leads me so beautifully by his steadfast example

-the way he teaches me
-the way he loves people...SO much
-his loyalty
-his zeal for truth

-his desire to be like Jesus more than anything in the world

I love you baby! I thank the Lord for you daily and am so unworthy of the gift He has given me in you.

Europe Trip...a glimpse

2008-05-25T08:18:00.000-05:00

We have been back a week and a half, and I think it's about time to post a few pictures...

PARIS!!!

1 cup decaf=1 shot espresso

(Paris, France)

Martin Luther's church and the door where the 95 Theses were posted

(Wittenberg, Germany)

Reformation Wall (w/ John Calvin)

(Geneva, Switzerland)

Hiking Trip & Swinging in front of our Bed & Breakfast

I miss you (Gimmelwald, Switzerland)!!!--our favorite part of the trip

Chillin' on the Grand Canal

(Venice, Italy)

Gelato (Beau's favorite is coconut) & our favorite meal in Italy with the hugest steak you have ever seen. They had to bring out another table just for the meat.

(Siena, Italy)

Roman Colosseum & fountain in St. Peter's Square

(Rome, Italy)

We definitely miss Europe, especially the Alps, but it is good to be back in the swing of things here at home! I might be ready to go back next month though. Anybody in? ;)

Contrary Me

2008-05-17T09:20:00.000-05:00

My husband can testify. So can my college professors. Ask my mom, dad, or brother. My mentors could definitely tell you. Kimberly Galanos, turned Hughes, learns best through being absolutely, annoyingly contrary. Some call it arguing. Others have learned to ignore me. Luckily, my husband still plays along. I'm hoping he won't catch on for awhile. Otherwise he might quit entertaining my devil's advocate approach to learning.

Much of the time I don't even agree with the stance I take. I am genuinely just trying to draw out every argument, enticing my victim to 'prove it', even wanting him to be right.

One such instance happened last week in Europe. Venice, Italy to be exact. Drooling over one of the most unbelievable pizzas we have ever enjoyed, the arguing starts. It's a familiar one...

I have always wrestled with the idea of 'approval'. More specifically, the Lord's approval of me. I live in this world of weights and balances. My discipline or lack thereof, my passion or apathy, my awe or indifference, my kindness or selfishness, my right decisions or my wrong ones, these are the things that determine my idea of the Lord's approval or disapproval of me.

My husband argues about my stance before God before He saved me. I was His enemy, an object of His wrath. There was nothing in me lovely to Him. Nothing in me worthy of saving.

Okay, I get it. But isn't there something in you He loves? Isn't that part of why He saves you? I mean, the Bible says it. He so loved the world that He gave His Son. Right?

Ummm...yes. Kind of. He loves Himself. He loves His glory. He loves you. But He loves you because of Jesus.

So He doesn't love me; He loves Jesus in me.

No, He loves you. But before Jesus, you were His enemy. It was a different kind of love. It wasn't the covenant, never leave you or forsake you kind of love until Jesus. The rescue, redeem, reward kind of love. The way a Father loves His daughter love.

Now I feel like you're contradicting yourself. He loves me, but not really. He loves me only because of Jesus.

Yes. Kind of. Ugh! Do you understand that there is nothing good in you, you by yourself?

Yea.

Are you sure? It seems that there is something still in you that thinks you have to win the Lord's approval. That something you do or don't do can change His pleasure with you with every wind that blows. He approves of you. He finds pleasure in you. Because Jesus saved you. You are His. Now there are absolutely moments of faithlessness and disobedience, but the Lord's approval does not waver.

The argument continues. My husband's eyes fill with tears as he tries to unravel the gospel into the context I find myself. The couple at the table beside us is quiet, seemingly listening in to his rather passionate explanation of the change that takes place between being born an object of wrath to being mercifully chosen as a daughter.

This common argument I get into, where I actually agree with the side I argue with, haunts me. It always comes back up. I do believe it. Mentally, I agree. Practically, not at all. I still get confused. I still beg to understand.

What if I have been told my entire life that I am great, that I deserve the best, that there is something 'good' about me? And even worse, what if I believed it?

I'm beginning to wonder if that is why the whore loved so much. I assume she felt like the most unworthy person ever born. I'm sure she was totally aware she could never win Jesus' approval. I wonder if she was too ashamed to look up at Him. Perhaps the murderer gets it. Maybe they are so terribly aware of how there is nothing at all good or deserving in them that they are able only to, with head and eyes to the floor, be beautifully ruined by His love. Convince me, Lord Jesus.

The theme of our trip to Europe, in my heart, in my journaling, in my pouring over Scripture, was the gospel. Love. The transition from enemy to daughter.

I feel like I might get it just a little bit more than I did. And perhaps next month, I will get it a little more. Maybe 30 years from now, a little more. It feels like I'm looking into a crystal. I'm trying to know every cut, every color that shines from every angle, every reflection, and I want to know it perfectly.

One of my heroes once said that we see now 'but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now we know in part; then we shall know fully, even as we are fully known" (1 Cor. 13:12).

My soul yearns.

Piled Up Newspapers & an Overflowing Mailbox

2008-04-24T16:30:00.000-05:00

That's right. We are heading out. For a long time. Two and a half weeks to be exact.

Before Beau and I were married, we realized we had three dreams in common: Europe, Africa, and Israel. The next two weeks, dream number one will be fulfilled. We could not be more excited!

Please pray for us good health, and even more, that the Lord would allow us to see and experience Him in mountains, vineyards, history, and unknown tongues and customs.

I am normally, no always, terrible about taking pictures. So I am setting a goal for myself that I think is an attainable one: to take at least 3 pictures per city. That's not too much to remember, is it? Hopefully we'll come home with many more than that; but then again, I said that on our honeymoon.

Love, love, love!

That's What I Was Trying to Say

2008-04-13T17:04:00.000-05:00

I am currently reading a book many of you have probably either read or at least heard of. It is called, "Knowing God" by J.I. Packer. Don't ask me what the J.I. stands for. I have no idea.

You may not have read or may not remember a post I published not too long ago, entitled "The Skeptic That I Am", but in my reading this week, I found that Mr. J.I. had something similar to say, though in a far more eloquent and beautiful way. How did I not read this book already?

I absolutely had to share this quote with you:

"...God never abandons anyone on whom He has set His love; nor does Christ, the good Shepherd, ever lose track of His sheep. It is as false as it is irreverent to accuse God of forgetting, or overlooking, or losing interest in, the state and needs of His own people. If you have been resigning yourself to the thought that God has left you high and dry, seek grace to be ashamed of yourself. Such unbelieving pessimism deeply dishonors our great God and Savior."

Forgive us Lord!

Because We Don't Have Kids Yet...

2008-04-06T09:13:00.001-05:00

Beau and I went with the Warren Family yesterday to Dallas Blooms. Dallas Blooms is bascially some event somewhere in Dallas with lots of flowers. If I were a good blogger, I would probably google it to find a link for you and would cheat to find out more details about when, where, and why, but I'll let you do that.

Here are some pics from the big event...waiting for our shuttle me and the awesome horse made of grass...or something

she is so beautiful

...because we don't have kids yet

awwww....

oooh la la!

my favorite flowers of the day

John and I rolling down the hill
see John's legs!

wow!

"Thanks for listening."

Can't Resist...

2008-03-18T17:53:00.000-05:00

Sweet Beau's mom was thinking on Easter this week and decided to scan the most brilliant, wonderful picture I have ever seen. I couldn't resist the post. Happy Easter everyone!

(In case you can't tell, Beau is the one in blue...handsome as ever.)

(Oh, and please feel free to "click to enlarge".) :)

"Date Night"...or Morning?

2008-03-09T09:57:00.000-05:00

Beau and I don't typically celebrate "Date Night" on Saturday mornings, but this week, we were all about it. Here is how the schedule went...

1. Hit snooze button.
2. Hit snooze button.
3. Roll over.
4. Yell at Beau to hit the snooze button.
5. Get out of bed.
6. Put on coffee (using a napkin instead of a coffee filter since we are out. works like a charm. kind of.)
7. Drink coffee.
8. Brush teeth.
9. Get in the car with Beau to drive down the street.
10. Kimberly gets the most fantastic massage she has ever had.
11. Beau gets the most excruciating and perfect massage he has ever had.
12. Thanked Jen Windle, our spectacular new massage therapist.
13. Get into the car.
14. Unanimously vote to see Jen every week for the rest of our lives.

Thank you so much Jen! We loved it, and we love your new place. In case any of you are wondering, here is her info...

Jen Windle
Specialized Care for Women
Therapeutic massage including: hot rocks, trigger point, lymphatic drainage, prenatal, sports injuries, pain/stress management
(940) 206-8936
jenwindleart@yahoo.com

Up and Running...

2008-03-03T15:09:00.000-06:00

Ok guys, the new blog (mentioned in previous post) is up and running! There is one post on there so far, and I hope to start putting up new posts daily within the next week or so. So if you are interested, here is the blog site: http://khcrosstraining.blogspot.com

I am so sorry for not using any of your cute name suggestions. I just had a hard time using a "cute" name for this site. haha. But thank you soooo much for your help!

Love you guys!

The Last Straw

2008-02-27T19:29:00.000-06:00

I have finally reached the (it's about time already) last straw! I have been asked, for what seems like the one millionth time, for a workout/nutrition plan. Every time someone asks, I always immediately have thousands of thoughts running through my mind of how I could explain every concept; BUT it would take at least thousands of words. This art is much more complicated than one might think. ;)

So here's what I'm proposing...

I am thinking about starting a new blog. I would update this blog with a new workout every evening to be performed the following day. I would also include in this blog nutrition/exercise tips and ideas. What do you think? Would you be in? This is the only way I can come up with to help someone with the ever-so-daunting "program" I am daily asked to come up with. ;)

Ok...now for the tough part. You must help me think of a name for the blog.

(Oh, and if you are wondering what type of cardio equipment the man pictured on the left is using, I have absolutely no idea.)

The Skeptic That I Am

2008-02-05T17:52:00.000-06:00

I find that in seeking to know and follow Christ, there is an awful lot of gray. I don't necessarily mean that Christ is gray or that His Word is gray, but that there are so many different theologies and interpretations that I find myself skeptical of almost all of it. I question almost anything I hear or read, wondering if it is really "Biblical". Oh, the blessing and curse of taking Biblical Interpretation classes in college!

Is anyone but me ever just dying for some truth or promise to be understood as totally black or white? Some promises, for instance, are most definitely universal but, skewed by human influence, it is often difficult for me to discern which ones are and which ones are not. Allow me to offer you a little bit of background.

The past several months have been ones of crying with the psalimst David, "How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever? How long will you hide your face from me?" Begging for His voice, I have been all too often greeted by silence. Now I in no way blame this on the Lord and am fully aware that I have things in my hands that are keeping me from hearing. Nevertheless, I have felt this awful silence. By the Lord's grace, it is the kind of silence that teaches you. The kind that reminds you why you are following Christ in the first place. The kind that makes you appreciate the times of continual revelation and insight. The kind that allows you to see why God allows deserts so that you can embrace the lands of promise.

A few days ago, I was lost in skepticism, wondering if the promise the author said was for "me" really was for me. The author wrote of how God is always our "Protector", as He was to Israel, and as one of the psalmists praised about. The content of my thoughts at this point are not worth mentioning, but I would love to let you in on where the Holy Spirit eventually swept my mind.

I began to think about God's "choosing", how He chooses some to be His children, and how He chose those certain ones from the foundation of the world. Now to me, this is crystal clear, no ifs, ands, or buts. As my mind rode wave after wave of thought, I was compelled to pen the following words in my journal:

"If God chose you, why would you think He would leave one He has chosen? Why would He choose you and then forsake you? That's just the point: He wouldn't! God is faithful to those whom He picks! For regardless of what you have done to seemingly lose His approval, you are His child. He is Father, and a Father that won't leave His kids! He will not ignore them forever. He won't turn His face from them forever. He is faithful and loving to whom He chooses!"

Though this may not seem profound, to me, that day, it was revolutionary. For in the midst of the darkest cloud of wondering if I could possibly have done something to make Him leave me, I am reminded that beyond a shadow of a doubt, He doesn't do that! There is no gray in that. God is faithful to His kids, and He will never leave us or forsake us, no matter what we do or do not do. As much as I want at times for part of this salvation thing to be because of me, I am always so gloriously ruined and relieved to find that it is not!

Praise the Lord!

My Best Friend's Wedding...Not the Movie

2008-02-05T15:04:00.000-06:00

My very best friend from college got married last weekend in Houston to an incredible man of God. Here are some pics from the big event...

Rehearsal Dinner!!! (bride, bride's sister, me)

Good friend Kate. Miss you already!

I love you Dinah! Don't move to Africa!

He made it! Barely, but he made it right as she was walking down the aisle! Thanks for coming baby! (Oh, and I might have taken that orchid and put it on my dining room table. Shhhhh...)

The lovely bride and groom. Love you April & Kyle!

Back by Popular Demand

2008-01-23T18:04:00.000-06:00

Ok, folks! Here is is! The new and improved house color!!! Thanks to Linda Walker!

Allow me to show you once more the before picture...

and the after picture...

Oh wow, it looked a lot nicer when it was summertime! You can't see it in the picture, but the door is red, along with the ceiling to the porch. Also, if the house looks a little crooked, do not be deceived. I believe the camera was held at a bit of an angle. Old houses have foundation problems, but not as bad as it may appear. :)

I hope you are all having a great new year! If you need anything, especially in the way of paint colors, please dont call me. This is NOT my area of specialty! Love you! ;)

Learning to Paint

2008-01-13T16:26:00.001-06:00

She was sitting in a small room at a small table surrounded by hundreds, if not thousands, of books. Her eyes were fixed on her computer screen as she typed at what seemed like a million miles an hour. Dr. Land cleared his throat and introduced us. He thought she could persuade me.

I sat beside her, worried about interrupting, and listened to her responses to my questions. To be honest, I wasn't really paying attention. I was for the most part, lost in thought.

Not five minutes later, I stood up to let her get back to her work, and she looked at me and said something I can't forget: "You will learn to paint here. You will learn to paint with words."

It may seem strange, even simple, but to me, that day, it was profound. I have wondered since if I might like to paint. I even asked the Lord today if He would have me to paint. As I thought of what His response might be, I felt in my spirit only this: "If you paint, paint me good. Paint me kind. Paint me big. Paint me beautiful. Paint me right. Paint me strong."

There arises in me a fear in painting. A fear I could paint Him wrong, or at least, not as big or great as He is. I wonder if artists feel that way.

I picture a canvas, with a small picture lying beside it. The artist focuses intently on each and every detail of the face in the picture. Every mark counts. It is a slow, meticulous, even painful process.

The picture I have found looks more like a mirror. In this mirror I see a reflection, a reflection that looks blurry, and my mirror is cracked. I see mostly silhouettes and shadows, faint reflections of something beautiful. So I try to paint the parts I see, the marks I can make out as I squint and stare. Even if just for His glory in my own heart, I want to paint Him well.

Perhaps what she said is right. Maybe I can learn to paint here. Either way, I have my watercolors and paint-by-number sheets under my arm, and I am walking back to school.

I may even ride my bike. It's right around the corner.

Great Intentions

2008-01-06T14:36:00.000-06:00

I jumped out of bed this morning with the ever so great intentions of "cleaning house". (As a side note, the definition of "cleaning house" can vary from husband to wife or person to person. I learned this fairly quickly. I would be at work on a Saturday, while my servant husband would text me and say, "Baby, I'm cleaning house for you today". Come to find out, "cleaning house" means throwing away unnecessary trash and water bottles lying around and folding a couple of blankets. Apparently sweeping, mopping, vacuuming, and dusting don't fit into this definition. You've gotta love the sweet efforts though. Love you, Beau.) :)

As I began to scan the house, wondering where I should begin, I decided I would start with the laundry. I separated our clothes, threw into the washer an over-the-top load of "colored" items, and turned the dial to "quick wash". Instead of starting the next job on the list while the laundry was going, I decided a cup of coffee was in order.

I slowly drank my cup of coffee while reading a good book, and what seemed like just minutes later, I heard a loud "buzz" to let me know my laundry was finished. I moved the clothes to the dryer and filled the washer with a new load. I then took my place back on the couch and waited for the laundry to finish.

Not long after, the dryer buzzed. As I began to pull the clothes out a little at a time, I quickly realized...the clothes were still soaking wet. I checked the filter to make sure it was clean. Spotless. Oh well. I will just let them go another round. Back to my coffee.

Probably 30-45 minutes after this, I hear the familiar "buzz" of the dryer. I go back, hoping for warm, dry clothes, only to find them still...soaking wet. I looked closely at the knobs on the dryer to make sure all the right buttons were pushed. Oooooooh. "Air Fluff". Dang it. Who set the dryer to "Air Fluff"? This better be the last round. The sheets in the washer must be dry by now!!!

At this point, I felt I had no excuse. I needed to start on the other chores. I decided vacuuming was the next best choice. So I started in the living room. (You can vacuum a house with all wood floors, right?) I went back and forth over our wood floors and mammoth straw rug. I was in the last corner of the living room, you know, the corner where EVERYTHING in the house is plugged in. If you have a DELL computer, you might have seen that little buckle thing that you can fasten around the cord. I think it's made of rubber. Anyway, that thing is in our vacuum cleaner somewhere. Not sure where. It started to smell like something was burning. Kind of like burnt rubber. I quickly turned off the device, flipped it over to try to yank out this mysterious piece of rubber. It was no where to be found. Oh well. I laid the cleaner on its side. It is still laying there. In the middle of the living room. Plugged in. I figure Beau will fix it later. It's almost time to go to church. In the meantime, I need to go see if the laundry is dry.

Probably not.

DEnToN...

2007-12-09T14:21:00.000-06:00

Well, we are FINALLY settled in! (Unless of course you count the door that is still purple, the two rooms that apparently needed more than one coat of paint, and the huge white spot on our bathroom wall that is not-so-efficiently covering an enourmous hole.) But who's counting, seriously?

Beau and I find ourselves loving Denton more and more everyday. I'm not sure if it is the lady knocking on our window in the middle of the night asking if the couch outside is for sale (to which Beau loudly responds, "NO!!!"), the hippies constantly riding their bikes by our house, or the constant aroma of hookah, but we are falling in love with this place! Though I am still working in Flower Mound, I hope to be stationed in Denton VERY soon.

Our new picture in our header was drawn by one of our college students, who would probably kill me if she knew I posted it on here. ;) She drew it of her trip to Seattle with two girlfriends, but I found it to be a beautiful picture of what we find in Denton: a whole lot of people doing their own thing in their own time, interested primarily in art, music, philosophy, yoga, and tofu. Along with this culture comes an overarching theme of relativity. Don't tell me your god or your way is the only way, and we will get along just fine.

Many of them tell us they think Christians are hypocrites...and they are probably right about a lot of us. But our main hope and prayer is that they would either see a life-altering love in the believers' hearts around them, or that they at least wouldn't throw the baby out with the bath water. That they would take their eyes off of us hypocrites and at least give Jesus a try.

Beau bears a constant burden for this city; one that he joyfully, yet painfully carries around with him everywhere he goes. We ancicipate God doing really beautiful, awe-inciting things in the days to come, and we appreciate all the prayers I know a lot of you throw up for us here.

We love you guys!

Can I Please Show Off My Niece?

2007-11-12T11:17:00.000-06:00

I decided today, while looking at all the beautiful baby pictures you all post, that I either needed to have a baby, or find one to obsess over until then. So here she is...my niece, Baby Mckinley. (my brother's baby).

halloween!!!!!!

family christmas picture!!!!!!

sexy glasses (still a baby)

pumpkin patch!

(her shirt says, "daddy's little pumpkin")

I don't get to see her very often, but I think about her ALL the time, and my dad sends me videos of her. She is crawling now!!!!

Anyway...Beau and I are doing well. Definitely looking forward to Thanksgiving. Hope you guys have a great Thanksgiving, and in case I don't blog again, a Merry Christmas and Happy New Year!!!! (i'll try to blog before then) ;)

Feels Like Yesterday

2007-11-04T08:04:00.000-06:00

Okay, okay, I get the point. We haven't blogged in a really long time. But in my defense, it feels like yesterday.

I presume an update is in order...

FIRST OF ALL, my sweet husband went on the Village staff retreat a couple weeks ago. He had a great time with all his buddies, but this is not the point. The point is, that he came home with much more "scruff" than usual, and I kind of liked it. So I encouraged him to let it grow another week or two. I wish I had a picture, but just so you know...his new beard is HOT!!!! This is the most important update.

Second, in case you were wondering, our house is a different color from the green I showed in my last blog. However, the new and not so improved paint job on the house must now be redone again. Who knew you weren't supposed to use gloss paint on the outside of your house? Juan, or "Ron", will be hanging out at our house again very soon.

Speaking of, I have a little story relating to Juan. A few weeks ago, when Juan was painting the only bathroom in our house, I found myself needing to use the restroom...immediately. So I went into the bathroom and said to Juan, "mi bano, muy rapido", in an attempt to communicate that I needed to go to the restroom, and that I would be very fast! As I waited for him to understand what I was saying and exit the bathroom, I heard Beau laughing from the next room and saying, "Babe, he thinks you want him to paint the bathroom faster."

Then frustrated, with car keys in hand, I was leaving my house to drive to the nearest gas station to use the restroom, when I overheard Beau telling Juan, "Hey Juan, Kimberly needs to use the bathroom", at which Juan laughed and exited the bathroom. Thanks Beau.

Other than that, I should tell you that the Lord has been very gracious to us lately. You know, it's not always fun when the Lord reveals what's in the deepest parts of your heart, but Beau and I have found it to be the most loving, gracious thing He can do. So we are definitely learning a lot both about ourselves and Christ. You gotta love how the Holy Spirit, via marriage, will do this to ya! ;)

We love all of you very much and hope to see you soon!

(below is a picture from the New York museum of natural history)

What Is Purple and Orange and Green All Over?

2007-08-10T18:27:00.000-05:00

That's right! We are moving. Yes...again. Beau is beginning to ask why I haven't started packing yet. I can't ever really think of a good enough response, I just think to myself, "I feel like I just got finished unpacking." Haha. But we are so excited to be moving to Denton. We can't wait to see what the Lord is up to!

So what is purple and orange and green all over? Yes, it's our new house. The man selling it painted the inside orange and purple and the outside TURQUOISE in order to sell it. Makes plenty of sense to me. Here's a picture...

Oh, and you better believe we aren't re-painting ourselves. Get ready Juan. Or, as Rebekah Finfrock says, "Ron". Who knows???

We will probably be moving in a month-ish and are so excited to start meeting our neighbors and eating at Mr. Chopsticks daily. Okay, so Beau isn't all that excited that we live one minute away from a Japanese, Thai, and Chinese restaraunt all in one, but Mr. Chopsticks was my divine confirmation from the Lord to MOVE. If for no other reason, I am moving to be near Mr. Chopsticks. I hope to meet him someday.

In the back of the house is a really big backyard (shown above) with a picnic table, closeline, pecan tree, rose bushes, and soon to be a great grill for having all of you over! So bring your OFF! spray and your laundry and get ready to come over for some good old fashioned grillin'!

A Sympathetic Sword

2007-07-13T10:11:00.000-05:00

I read a verse this morning that I've probably read or heard a million times. But for some reason, this morning, I was tempted to dig.

The writer of Hebrews starts out by saying, "The word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, peircing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. And no creature is hidden from his sight, but all are naked and exposed to the eyes of him to whom we must give account" (Hebrews 4:12,13).

As I read over the verse a few times, looked up a few Greek words, and just meditated, I got a little fearful. Fearful mostly about the "thoughts and intentions of MY heart".

I oftentimes find myself understanding more how God would want to save a prostitute or murderer than me. What glory He receives in that! But my sin is different. I may not give in to homosexuality or prostitution, but I almost feel that my lack of faith or selfishness or idolatry or even failure to acknowledge God are far worse! Perhaps because I know Him, and I've tasted. And I doubt. I can adore a child without thinking about Christ and can enjoy food, especially Thai food, while forgetting our God is the author. I can go weeks without hearing Him, not knowing where in the world I stand with Him. Are you angry with me? Pleased with me? Am I being obedient or disobedient? And all the while I pursue Him with half my heart and even less of my effort.

So all that to say, that as I began to feel a little discouragement and even fear, I was prompted to keep reading...

"Since then we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin" (4:14, 15), then on to another all too familiar verse, "Let us then with confidence approach the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need" (4:16).

And herein I found that though the thoughts and intentions of my heart are wandering and depraved, Jesus came to be tempted in the same way I am so that He would get it. And because He gets it and because of grace, I can come before His throne with my wandering, unbelieving heart in confidence. This is where the exchange happens. My depravity for His grace. Not fair, not safe, but good.

Thank you Jesus.

Concerns About Blogging

2007-07-11T21:19:00.000-05:00

Ok...so as I have reviewed blogging the past couple of days, I have a few questions.

a...is there a way to send people messages and not just comments?
b...how in the WORLD do you add someone to your "friends" list?
c...how do you post pictures onto a post?
d...how do i put a cute little picture next to our name?
e...i think that the blog masters should make blogging more user-friendly.
f..."e" was not a question.
g...when i have children, i will blog more.
h...beau wants to have children tomorrow.
i...i am trying to convince him we need to be married at least one month first.

thanks for stopping by!

Complaints

2007-07-10T13:29:00.000-05:00

Beau and I have been receiving many complaints lately about the lack of updates on our blog. To be more specific, we have only one post. However, in our defense, we have been unable to figure out our username and password for the past several months. I tried different email addresses and passwords for about half an hour, and finally landed on the right one.

So...we're back. Hopefully for good.

(Oh, and sorry our profile looks so pathetic. I might need some blogging advice.) ;)

Beau's Frustration Leads to Blog

2007-03-09T12:27:00.000-06:00

Well... after a few months of not being able to post comments on our friends' blogs, we've decided to join in the "blogosphere" with them. What really happened is that Beau got frustrated because he was unable to leave comments on the Patterson's page about Lily, so he figured out how to make his own page. Who says competitive frustration can't lead to good things? He plans on handing off the blogging responsibilities to Kimberly from here on out. So, expect comments and pictures from time to time, and make sure that you stop by to give KimBeau some love every now and then.

These are our
engagement pictures that were taken by our friend, Lindsey. You can find her blog and pictures at lindseyshea
photography.
blogspot.com.
She's fabulous.
Enjoy!