Wednesday, January 28, 2009

For real...How lucky am I?

PLEASE NOTE:  WHAT YOU ARE ABOUT TO READ MAY MAKE YOU VERY ENVIOUS!  Envy is not good, it is not a fruit of the Spirit....but by golly you might not be able to help yourself.  

I sleep with this man every night

He bears a striking resemblance to this man: (Joshua Jackson)
See the smile?  Oh yeah...tell me that ain't a beautiful sight to see...
The resemblance is uncanny!

Oh yeah...that's right...I'm married to one fine piece of man-candy...PLUS I get to enjoy him on Fox, Tuesday night prime-time on Fringe!!  Lucky Lucky me!

Friday, January 23, 2009

Just where we wanted our money to go...

Welcome to a Liberal White House.  Today, President Obama  reversed a Bush Administration ruling that will send our taxpayer money overseas to help nations give their women abortions in an effort to maintain population control.  

Wow...this makes so much sense.  I guess it's out of goodwill we are going to help other nations kill their unborn babies in the name of population control.  

You can read the story here...

Praise God for all those sweet babies that will only know Heaven as their home.  

Wednesday, January 21, 2009

Weekend in the Big-D...I DO mean Dallas!

Last weekend I was fortunate enough to have had a sudden change in plans that allowed me, the kids, and my awesome mom-in-law to head to Dallas and see my brother Dennis and his rockin' family.  

We ALWAYS have fun on these trips...the kinda fun where you have to sleep for a week solid just to regain the use of your legs.  
Here were the kids watching a movie on Dennis' iPhone on the floor of the Gap in Northpark Mall.  There's something to be said for entering into a mall where I couldn't afford a sock in 95% of the stores.  We're talking Valentino, Armani, Prada...Northpark Mall has original Andy Warhol paintings hanging in it.'s THAT kind of nice.
All of us on the trolley near downtown Dallas.  This sucker was free...and you could ride it all around town!  Very fun...I suggest it for your next trip!

Oh man...this was the coolest playground ever!  And this was Ethan's first ride on a real swing (that's my bro in the background).  2 seconds after this picture was taking, he face-planted...hard.  The weight of that huge head just took him right on over.  (good news...he cried a little, then got back up and started swinging again!)

Dennis and I tore up some Guitar Hero while I was there (always a joy) and I got to play the new Lego Indiana Jones game...Awesome.

OH...and we also got Sprinkles Cupcakes...But that's a post for another time.

Friday, January 16, 2009


My Etsy shop Feather by Feather, is open!   Yay!  The headband above is the Hermione.
This one, my favorite, is the Ophelia. (they are all named after Shakespearean Heroines and Villanesses. 
Love this one too...the Desdemona.
And finally...the Cleopatra.  I am loving making's a nice new outlet for creative expression (i'm always needing those!)

So visit my shop sometime...FeatherbyFeather and "heart" me, if you get the chance!  Buy Homemade!!

Thursday, January 15, 2009

Does he look like a bobble-head to you?

This is a very very sweet picture.  It really captures the essence of both of my kids.  Hannah is goofy, always looking for some way to be silly.  Ethan just tries his best to be a sweetie.  He usually succeeds.  I'm a little worried that he is using it to his advantage, the little squirrel-monkey.

As sweet as the picture is, the first thing I think when I look at it is ..."Man, that boy looks like a bobble-head"  

It's true...I birth huge-headed children.  Hannah was upper 95% on head size up until they stopped measure headsize...I doubt much has changed.  Ethan, though...That kid is in a totally different catagory.  Ethan is in the upper 100% percentile for head size.  Our beloved pediatrician Dr. Sanjiv Sood says..."that boy has two brains in his head."  I can't quite vouch for the extreme intelligence just yet...but his head is Ginormous.  ESPECIALLY when he doesn't have a shirt or pants on...just a get the full impact of that huge head when he's naked.  He's just so little everywhere else.  Dr.Sood has also said that Ethan is a "white Shaquille O'Neal" because of his height.  He's pretty funny lookin'

But so stinkin' cute.  

All of this big-head talk has brought to mind one of my favorite movies of all time..."So I Married an Axe Murderer".  

If you are up for some serious laughing at my sons on the link know you want to...

Saturday, January 10, 2009

This will speak to your heart...

Beth Moore at the airport...

April 20,2005, at the airport in Knoxville, waiting to board the plane, I'd had a marvelous morning with the Lord.  I say this because I want to tell you it is a scary thing to have the Spirit of God really working in you. You could end up doing some things you never would have done otherwise.  Life in the Spirit can be dangerous for a thousand reasons not the least of which is your ego.

I tried to keep from staring, but he was such a strange sight.  Humped over in a wheelchair, he was skin and bones, dressed in clothes that obviously fit when he was at least twenty pounds heavier.  His knees protruded from his trousers, and his shoulders looked like the coat hanger was still in his shirt.  His hands looked like tangled masses of bone.  His gray hair hung well over his shoulders and down part of his back.  His fingernails were long, clean but strangely out of place on an old man.

I looked down at my Bible as fast as i could, discomfort burning in my face.  As I tried to imagine what his story might have been, I found myself wondering if I'd just had a Howard Hughes sighting.  Then, I remembered that he was dead.  So this man at the airport...and impersonator maybe?  Was a camera on us somewhere?  There I sat; trying to concentrate on the Word to keep from being concerned about a thin slice of humanity served on a wheelchair only a few seats from me.  All the while, my heart was growing more and more overwhelmed with a feeling for him.

Let's admit it.  Curiosity is a heap more comfortable than true concern, and ussenly I was awash with aching emotion for this bizarre-looking old man.  I had walked with God long enough to see the handwriting on the wall.  I've learned that when I begin to feel what God feels, something so contrary to my natural feelings, something dramatic is bound to happen.  And it may be embarassing.  I immediately began to resist because I could feel God working on my spirit and I started arguing with God in my mind.  "Oh, no, God, please no."  I looked up at the ceiling as if I could stare straight through it into heaven and said, "Don't make me witness to this man.  Not right here and now.  Please.  I'll do anything.  Put me on the same plane, but don't make me get up here and witness to this man in front of this gawking audience.  Please, Lord?"  There I sat in the blue vinyl chair begging His Highness, "Please don't make me witness to this man.  Not now, I'll do it on the plane."  Then I heard it..."I don't want you to witness to him.  I want you to brush his hair."  The words were so clear, my heart leapt into my throat, and my thoughts spun like a top.  Do I witness to the man or brush his hair?  No brainer.  I looked straight back up at the ceiling and said, "God, as I live and breathe, I want you to know I am ready to witness to this man.  I'm on this Lord.  I'm your girl!  You've never seen a woman witness to a man faster in your life.  What difference does it make if his hair is a mess if he is not redeemed?  I am going to witness to this man."

Again as clearly as I've ever heard an audible word, God seemed to write this statement across the wall of my mind.  "that is not what I said, Beth.  I don't want you to witness to him.  I want you to go brush his hair."  I looked up at God and quipped, "I don't have a hairbrush.  It's in my suitcase on the plane.  How am I supposed to brush his hair without a hairbrush?"  God was so insistent that I almost involuntarily began to walk toward him as these thoughts came to me from God's word:  "I will thouroughly furnish you unto all good works." (2 Timothy 3:17) I stumbled over to the wheelchair thinking I could use one myself.  Even as I retell this story, my pulse quickens and I feel those same butterflies.  I knelt down in front of the man and asked as demurely as possible, "Sir, may I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?"

He looked back at me and said, "What did you say?" "May I have the pleasure of brushing your hair?" To which he responded in volume ten, "Little lady, if you expect me to hear you, you're going to have to talk louder than that."  At this point, I took a deep breath and blurted out, "SIR, MAY I HAVE THE PLEASURE OF BRUSHING YOUR HAIR?" At which point every eye in the place darted right at me.  I was the only thing in the room loking more peculiar than old Mr. Longlocks.  Face crimson and forehead breaking out in a sweat, I watched him look up at me with absolute shock on his face, and say, "If you really want to." 

Are you kidding?  Of course I didn't want to.  But God didn't seem interested in my personal preference right about then.  He pressed on my heart until I could utter the words, "Yes, sir, I would be pleased.  But I have one little problem.  I dont' have a hairbrush."  "I have one in my bag," he responded.  I went around the the back of that wheelchair, and I got on my hands and knees and unzipped the stranger's old carry-on, hardly believing what I was doing.  I stood up and started brushing the old man's hair.  It was perfectly clean, but it was tangled and matted.

I don't do many things well, but I must admit I've had notable experience untangling knotted hair mothering two little girls.  Like I'd done with either Amanda or Melissa in such a condition, I began brushing at the very bottom of the strands, remembering to take my time not to pull.  A miraculous thing happened to me as I started brushing that old man's hair.  Everybody else in the room disappeared.  there was no one alive for those moments except that old man and me.  I brushed and I brushed and I brushed until every tangle was out of that hair.

I know this sounds so strange, but I've never felt that kind of love for another soul in my entire life.  I believe with all my heart, I-for that few minutes-felt a portion of the very love of God.  That He had overtaken my heart for a little while like someone renting a room and making Himself at home for a short while.  The emotions were so strong and so pure that I knew they had to be God's.  His hair was finally as soft and smooth as an infant's.  I slipped the brush back in the bag, went around the chair to face him.  

I got back down on my knees, put my hands on his knees, and said, "Sir, do you know my Jesus?" He said, "Yes, I do."  Well, that figures, I thought.  He explained, "I've known Him since I married my bride.  She wouldn't marry me until I got to know the Savior."  He said, "You see, the problem is, I haven't seen my bride in months.  I've had open-heart surgery, and she's been too ill to come see me.  I was sitting here thinking to myself, what a mess I must be for my bride."

Only God knows how often He allows us to be part of a divine moment when we're completely unaware of the significance.  This, on the other hand, was one of those rare encounters when I knew God had intervened in details only He could have known.  It was a God moment, and I'll never forget it.  Our time came to board, and we were not on the same plane.  I was deeply ashamed of how I'd acted earlier and would have been so proud to have accompanied him on that aircraft.  I still had a few minutes, and as I gathered my things to board, the airline hostess returned from the corridor, tears streaming down her cheeks.  She said, "That old man's sitting on the plane, sobbing.  Why did you do that?  What made you do that?"

I said, "Do you know Jesus?  He can be the bossiest thing!"  And we got to share.  I learned something about God that day.  He knows if you're exhausted because you're hungry, your'e serving in the wrong place or it is time to move on, but you feel too responsible to budge.  He knows if you're hurting or feeling rejected.  He knows if you're sick or drowning under a wave of temptation.  Or He knows if you just need your hair brushed.  He sees you as an individual.  Tell Him your need!

I got on my own flight, sobs choking my throat, wondering how many opportunities just like that one had I missed along the way...all because I didn't want people to think I was strange.  God didn't send me to that old man.  He sent that old man to me.

John 1:14 "The Word became flesh and made his swelling among us.  We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth."  Life shouldn't be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well-preserved body, but rather, to skid in broadside, thouroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly shouting, "Wow!  What a Ride!"
Thank-You Lord!

Be Blessed!
Beth Moore

Wednesday, January 7, 2009

Good stuff to start out the year...

Allright...I am highly addicted to visiting friends' blogs and reading all of their "where I've been" selections (hence my frightfully long list to the right of where I've been).  If any of you have checked out my list, I hope you enjoy the blogs I enjoy

If you haven't've gotta start start here...

This is one of my favorite blogs ever...he has such a refreshing look at Faith, Jesus...and living the Life.  This post in particular is awesome.  Please visit his blog and check it out...I'm working on my own list as we speak.