His Daughter

Well, I had hoped for this to be a longer series – one with several parts to it, but with our wonderfully busy December and the fact that I didn't get the idea for The Christmas Eve Chronicles until about two weeks ago, it will be incomplete. Perhaps next year I will be able to do the whole thing.

But here is story one: His Daughter. I actually wrote this story last year, but for some of you it may be new. I hope you enjoy it. Merry Christmas!

His Daughter

The banister slipped smoothly beneath my hand as I tiptoed down the staircase. It was three in the morning, but I couldn't sleep. Even though I'd been so exhausted only a few hours earlier. And it wasn't just because it was Christmas Eve.

I paused on the landing. Light glowed through the living room doorway, throwing shadows onto the hall rug. I glanced toward the stairs. I hadn't woken Mom.

Pulling my robe around myself, I stepped toward the living room. My slippers made gentle brushing sounds on the floor. A cat looked up, blinking, from its place on a shelf. Brad loved cats.

I sat down on the couch facing the tree. The twinkling colored lights had been left on. Drawing my knees up to my chest, I rested my chin on them and took a deep breath. Why did I care what that woman had said? I didn't even know her name. I wondered if she'd even been invited. There had been so many people at the party – maybe Mom hadn't even noticed who was here and who wasn't. She'd been so stressed out yesterday afternoon; maybe her mind was occupied with other things. She probably hadn't cared who came, just as long as there was plenty of eggnog for everyone.

"Lori, go make sure Brad got the wine. Did you get everything on the table?" Mom glanced at her watch. "Oh, I need to go take a shower. Take out the kitchen trash!" I opened my mouth to speak, but she'd rushed out of the porch before I could say a thing. Shrugging, I reached up to hang the last sprig of holly above the entrance. I stepped down from the footstool and smiled. Perfect.

There was a muffled knock at the door. I pushed the stool out of the way with my foot and pulled it open. A snow-covered young man stood on the step, holding a large brown box which looked almost too heavy for the unfortunate boy to carry.

"Please, come in!" I smiled at him. He looked very anxious and very tired, and I wondered if he'd gotten a friendly word all day.

He tumbled through the door, tracking snow and ice onto the newly vacuumed floor. I sucked my teeth. Whoops.

"Where do you want this?" he asked, glancing at the decorations.

"Oh, anywhere." I pointed at a corner. "There would be fine. Brad can move it if he needs to."

The boy all but dropped the box, two feet shy of where I'd suggested. On his foot. He closed his eyes as his toes were crushed, stifling a yell. "There...you are, ma'am." He shuffled toward the door, limping. I stopped a giggle.

"Wait a minute – don't leave yet!" I dashed out to the dining room, where I snatched three cookies, a tart, and a little tuna sandwich from the table. Grabbing a napkin, I wrapped it all up and ran back to stuff it into the boy's hands. "You look hungry. Merry Christmas."

The boy looked down at what I'd given him. Some of the worry vanished from his eyes and I thought he was going to smile. But before he could, he realized that the snow he'd brought in with him was melting everywhere and his cheeks flushed.

"Merry Christmas." He stumbled backward and was gone.

I sighed. Poor kid. I hoped he had family to go home to tonight. I was sure it would be terrible to be alone on Christmas Eve.

I swept out most of the snow and shut the door, hoping Mom wouldn't notice the carpet was soggy. Folding up the footstool, I took it back to the upstairs bathroom. My stepdad was shaving over the sink.

"Don't forget to clean up any mess you make." I wiped a speck of shaving cream from the mirror. "Mom already cleaned everything. Oh – she wanted to know: did you remember to buy the wine last night? She couldn't find it in the fridge."

"It's in the basement. Lori, please move – you bumped my elbow. Thank you." Brad shook his head briefly in irritation. "Did you clean your room yet?"

"This morning." I closed the medicine cabinet. "Mom wanted me to take out the trash, but I don't want to go outside. It's snowing really hard."

"I'm sorry." Brad nicked himself with his razor and yelped. "Lori Wallace, get out of here."

I watched a glass ball turn and sparkle in the firelight. I ran a hand through my hair and frowned. You aren't a Wallace. That's what the woman had said to me. But that wasn't true. I was a Wallace. I had been one for just about forever. When Mom and Brad had gotten married, a few months after I was born, they'd given me his name – my father's name. Brad was my father. He'd raised me – not my blood father. That's what I wanted to be. A Wallace.

I leaned against the dining room bureau, lifting a glass of punch to my lips. My muscles ached from cleaning all day. I just wanted to sleep. Sleep for a week. I rested my head on the wall. The grandfather clock chimed ten. Only an hour more, and then I could crash. Just collapse on my bed and rest my weary body.

A slender, middle-aged woman caught my eye. She was looking at the family pictures on the upright. I smiled and forced myself to walk over and talk with her. She looked slightly familiar, and Mom had told me to be hospitable.

"That's my dad." I pointed at the photo she was staring at.

The woman hummed. "You aren't a Wallace."

"Excuse me?" I raised my eyebrows in confusion. "That is my name. Lori Wallace."

"No, it isn't." The woman glanced at me for a second, before turning to a baby picture of mine. "Such a pretty child. All of us were attractive babies. Your Uncle Robert, especially. Never grew out of it."

"I'm sorry, but I don't have an Uncle Robert. I have an Uncle Tom, but not a Robert." I tapped the frame of another picture. "That's him."

The woman bent to inspect it closer. "Tom is handsome enough. But he is a Wallace."

"So? I'm a Wallace, too. What's wrong with you? Are you a friend of Mom's?"

The woman's face creased with bitter sadness. "She was my friend, once upon a time."

I lifted the open photo album from the coffee table and flipped through it, looking for a picture of the woman. There were pictures of me as a toddler – in my stroller; learning to wink; taking my first steps, but no sign of the strange woman. I stopped on a page covered with photos of me. In a rather faded, black and white one, I lay curled up on my stomach on Brad's chest. I was four months old, by the date on it. His strong, tender hand rested on my little bare back. The cat jumped down from the shelf and came to snuggle up beside me. Scratching it behind the ears, I sighed and stared at the flames licking the walls of the fireplace.

"You don't really belong to Brad." The woman spoke his name as though it poisoned her. "He isn't your father. Your birth father is your father."

"But I never knew him." I let my gaze drift to a picture of Brad and me – I was on his shoulders, leaning down to kiss him. He was laughing and looking up into my face. I smiled and touched the picture gently. "This is the only dad I've ever known."

"It doesn't matter who raised you." The woman shook her head, snorting. "Jason was your dad, and nothing can ever change that."

I twisted the ring on my hand and frowned. "Brad is the only father I have."

I leaned on my elbow. The cat had stopped purring. The only sound was the quiet crackle of the wood in the fireplace as the flames slowly died down. Wrapped presents were scattered around the Christmas tree. The stockings hung from the mantle were bulging. Brad's, Mom's, and mine. My heart twisted. What if I didn't really belong to Brad?

The living room light flicked on. I blinked and whirled around. Brad was standing in the doorway. The picture of us sleeping together drifted to the floor.

"What're you doing up?" Brad sounded tired.

I glanced at the picture at my feet. "I couldn't sleep."

"You should be in bed. It's the middle of the night."

"Sorry." I put the album back on the coffee table. "I'll go upstairs."

"Why're you looking at that?"

"I just...." I swallowed. "Brad, who am I?"

"What do you mean, who are you? You're a girl who should be in bed. Go on." He jerked his head toward the hall.

I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and bit my lip. "You and Mom got married when I was a few months old, right?"

Brad's eyes sparkled. "That's right. When you were ninety-nine days old. I made up my mind that morning that when you were ninety-nine months old, I'd get you a ring, like the one I slipped onto your mother's hand that day."

I looked at the ring glinting on my right middle finger. Two little sapphires sat like winking eyes set into the braided gold band on either side of the beautiful emerald. I could remember after Brad had given it to me, how long it had felt to wait until my hand had grown enough to wear it. Now I wore it every day, ever comforted by its presence, by the constant reminder of Brad's love for me. My breath quickened with the fear that maybe he didn't really count as my dad.

"Brad, am I really yours?" I lifted my head, tears welling in my eyes.

Brad's face softened and he came to take my trembling hand in his steady one. "What do you mean, sweetheart?"

"I mean, you aren't my blood father, but he didn't stay." I gripped his hand tightly. "I want to be a Wallace, Brad, but I'm afraid I'm not."

Brad smiled kindly and stroked my cheek. "I'm your adopted father. It counts every bit as much. You're my daughter."

"But I don't have your genes."

Brad shook his head. "It doesn't matter if my blood doesn't run through your veins. It's just your body. But I got to help mold the heart inside it. That's what being a father means."

"Really?" A smile pulled at my lips.

"Yes, really." Brad slid his hand down my arm back to mine and squeezed it. "You're a Wallace, even if you look a lot prettier than Brad Wallace."

I giggled. "But we do have the same nose. Even Mom thinks so."

"Do we?" Brad looked cross-eyed down at his nose. "I can't really see the resemblance."

"Well, you'd have to look in a mirror!"

Brad grinned. "Well, maybe I'll do that in the morning when I'm brushing my teeth." He yawned. "Speaking of mornings, you and I had better be getting back to bed to sleep for a few more hours."

I put my arms around Brad's neck. "Will you carry me upstairs?"

"Carry you upstairs?" Brad grunted. "I don't think I can hold you that long."

"You could try." I tilted my head to one side. "Please?"

"All right." Brad took a deep breath and slid an arm beneath my legs and one behind my back. With a great heave he stood up. "I think I'm starting to get to old for this."

He carried me up to my bedroom and let me fall gently onto my soft mattress. Pulling the blankets up, he tucked me in like he used to when I was younger. My Yorkie looked up at me from her place at the foot of the comforter, as though confused why I was getting in bed twice in one night. As I laid my head down on my pillow I could hear the ticking of the clock on my wall. It was almost four.

Brad brushed my hair off my forehead. "You don't have to worry about being my daughter. You are my daughter, and I love you very much. Okay, sweetie?"

I nodded and reached up to hug him. "Okay, Daddy. I love you, too."

Brad leaned down and kissed me. "Merry Christmas, Lori Wallace."

I closed my eyes in contentment. I was a Wallace – Brad's daughter.

Request for Prayer

I'm sitting in the car outside of church – we're leaving early for once. Because: Jon threw up in nursery. This is the craziest week of the year for my Dad and my grandma is coming on Friday. Please pray that we might be spared from further illness, if the Lord would be so merciful! If He will, He most surely has the power.

Holly

A couple of months ago, my cat, Trixxie, had a litter of four very adorable little kittens. There was an orange bicolor, a tortoiseshell, and two blue points (we at first thought these were cream kittens, as kittens of this color are born white and later develop the darker points – it's the pattern Siamese cats have – these kittens are 1/8th Siamese). When they were four weeks old, two of them unexpectedly died (the tortie and the smaller point) and Trixxie abandoned them. So we brought the remaining two kittens into the house and began to hand-raise them. It was a lot of fun, though everyone got h1n1 a couple days after we started bottle-feeding them and then we all felt really sick. Last Friday they turned eight weeks old and Snow White (the blue point) went to her new home the following afternoon.

But we still have Holly. She's a very sweet little baby. She isn't eating solids as well as her sister, so we decided to keep her for a little while to make sure she figures it out. Here she is:

I just gave her a bath here and she's drying off in my lap as I'm writing:

Isn't she darling? If you know someone who could give her a good home, be sure to let me know!

1 month, 2 days

That's how long it had been since I'd last seen one of my dearest friends, Katie, last Friday. On October 25th I had seen her for a little while at a MESSENGERS (my church's drama group) performance, and though I was VERY glad to see her (I hadn't seen her then for a few weeks), it wasn't very long. Both our families have been battling with lots of sickness this past month, and whenever one family wasn't sick, the other one was! So finally, the day after Thanksgiving, Lydia, Nat, Essie, and I were able to go down to their house for the day! YES! We had a very nice time with them, laughing and talking and playing games together. Love you guys!

Voyage of the Dawn Treader

Yeah, I know it's a little silly to start counting down the days already, but...oh, well. I remember waiting for Prince Caspian for a loooong time – pretty much from the time we got the first movie. At least they aren't waiting THREE years between movies this time. Only two. But at least, Lord-willing, it'll be out before The Hobbit (which, by the way, they are taking WAY TOO LONG to cast, so if you have any connections with Guillermo del Toro or his casting director, could you please tell them to at least give us some hints about who gets to play who????).

I like Prince Caspian (though I am still annoyed about what they did with Peter's character (Growl) ), but I hope VDT is better – PC wasn't as good as The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe.

Well, I hope enjoy the next 416 days! See you December 10th, 2010!

Vacation Journal: Day 8

Last night the middle cousins had a sleepover in our living room. We watched Everyone’s Hero. The kids had a lot of fun (I could still hear them laughing long after ten. J Very understandable.) I slept with Ruth in our bedroom, and watched a couple Leave It To Beaver episodes via Netflix Watch Instantly.

We went bike riding today. We rode from Copper Mountain down to Frisco. It was 7 miles, but it went really, really quickly, as it was pretty much all downhill. Everyone but Mom, Ruth, and Zac went on the bike ride. They drove down to Frisco and waited for us. I pulled Sam and Jon in the burley, and Ben was behind Dad on the trail-a-bike. In Frisco, we went to the historical park/town.

Us girls were playing with Ruthie while the bikes were getting put back into the trailer. She went along with it quite amiably.

One helmet:

Two helmets:

Three helmets:

Four helmets!

Isn’t she adorable?

Vacation Journal: Day 7

We rode the gondola yesterday in Vail. It was a little…high and made you feel vulnerable, but we were fine and it was a lot of fun. There were quite a few dogs on top of the mountain, too. Apparently you can bring dogs up on the gondola. I think Tipper would have liked being up there. J

A couple trips ago we found a big pirate ship playground in Vail, and when we went back to it yesterday, it looked as though it had been rebuilt – bigger than before. It’s huge. There’s even a crow’s nest that’s about twenty feet above the ground. The kids loved it. We stayed for a couple hours. Dad bought pizza and brought it over to the playground – it was really good.

This morning Dad and I made a big breakfast for everyone. We had blueberry muffins, Mom’s egg casserole, tater tots, and fruit. I was worried that we wouldn’t have enough muffins, but we actually had four left. I love how the Lord works things out.

Vacation Journal: Day 6

We watched Back To the Future last night. Grandma and Grandpa came over to see it with us. It was made in 1985, around the time of Indiana Jones and Star Wars. It is a time travel movie – sort of like Meet the Robinsons, only he travels to the past, it isn’t animated, and there is no Bowler Hat Guy. Other than the language and a couple more adult things in it, it was relatively good. The lead was played by Michael J. Fox, and if you are at all familiar with the show Cyberchase, on PBSKIDS, the inventor was played by the same actor who plays Hacker. Christopher Lloyd, I think?

Today, if it doesn’t start raining really heavily again, we’re planning to go down to Vail and walk around. I’m not sure if we’re taking the gondola up one of the mountains. You know, I just realized that that word is also used (probably more commonly) for those boats in Venice. Hmm. The dictionary also says that it means an open railroad freight car, and an enclosed compartment suspended from an airship or balloon.

One of Grandpa’s cousins and his wife came for dinner last night (they live in Colorado). Bunny (the wife) was really, really sweet, and she used to teach English at Wheaton Academy in Illinois. Now she teaches at a Christian school somewhere in Colorado. I really liked her. Her husband’s name was Ken, and he was really nice, too.

This is sort of off-topic, but have you ever found a souvenir section in a Wal•Mart? I’ve never seen one in any other Wal•Mart than the one here in Vail. It was a bit surprising, to walk into Wal•Mart and immediately see a sign for souvenirs.

Vacation Journal: Day 5

Oh, I had so much fun riding last night! I got to ride a nearly tweny-year-old chestnut Quarter Horse gelding named Blaze. He was really, really nice. You know how most trail horses don’t really move much before they get out of the corral, and pretty much they really like to do is follow the horse in front of them? Blaze was one of the only horses that would actually move when we were still in the practice corral, and I even got him to trot! The trail guide told me later that he had previously been a ranch horse. That was pretty cool! I really loved Blaze, and wouldn’t mind riding him again.

I can’t remember who everyone rode, but Lydia rode a nearly black horse named Little Bit (I loved that name); Nat rode a retired racehorse; Natalie or Taylor got to ride Isaiah; and Dad rode a pinto Percheron cross named Buzz. Mom, Auntie Emme, and the younger kids rode in the surrey. Even though the surrey ride was pretty bumpy, I think Zac slept through it. J

Our guide’s name (he and his wife, I think, own the place) was Jake, and our wrangler was Jay. There were also three dogs; two Parson Russell Terriers named Tick and Zipper (I think), and an Australian Cattle Dog, the name of which I can’t remember.

Talk to you later!

Vacation Journal: Day 4

Well, it’s Tuesday morning, and we had a good day yesterday. In the morning, we just hung around the condos, before heading over to the nearby rec center, which has a really nice pool and a big waterslide, which is really fun. I went down more than a few times! The first time I went down, I got scared I was going to fly off the edge of it, since there is no top (the sides are quite tall, though). I didn’t, though…. I think it was the third time that I thought I wouldn’t be able to have time to plug my nose before I shot into the water, as my nose was kind of stuffed up and it was sometimes hard to take a deep breath.

I think everyone down to Ruth went swimming, and Ruth was with me a lot of the time. She isn’t scared of water, and didn’t panic when I…got water in her face…more…than once. We even got her to try to blow bubbles under the water a few times. There was a zero-depth part of the pool, which was really nice for the younger kids. It was a little colder than the deeper part of the pool, so I didn’t spend too much time in it. Plus it wasn’t as deep. J

This afternoon we’re going horseback riding! It’ll be a lot of fun! We’re going to Mega Mountain Magic in Leadville, a place we’ve gone twice before. The other two times, I’ve ridden a Palomino named Ed, and a chestnut pinto named Kiowa. I wouldn’t mind riding Kiowa again too much, but I would really prefer not to ride Ed. The first time I rode him, I really liked him, but not really any more. I like to ‘play around’ with the horse I’m riding, and the only direction Ed would go in the practice corral was backwards. And, the last time we went trail riding, Natalie (one of my younger cousins) got him, and in trying to kick the horse behind him, he ended up kicking one of the wranglers – twice. He also bucked once, although Natalie, probably one of the more experienced riders in our group, stayed on. It’s kind of funny – everyone is hoping that they don’t get Ed this time. ;)

Vacation Journal: Day 3

We’re here at last! I don’t remember exactly when we arrived, but everyone was glad to get out of the car and into our resort condo. Lydia and I got the guest bedroom. It has a queen bed, two bedside tables, a closet, a dresser/TV stand, a large window, and a TV. There was a little crib that was in Mom and Dad’s room, which we moved into our room for Ruth. Nat and Essie were originally going to sleep next door at Grandma’s, in their guest bedroom, but they decided to sleep in our living room instead. The Three Amigos are sleeping in the ‘Den,’ in sleeping bags. Mom, Dad, and Zac are in the Master Bedroom, with a king bed, TV, DVD player, two-person Jacuzzi, private bathroom, large closet, two bedside tables, a window looking out over the landscaped ‘backyard’ of the resort, a fireplace, and a door to the patio. I would think they have a chest of drawers somewhere, but I can’t picture it, so maybe they don’t. There is a living room, a dining room, guest bathroom, and a kitchen as well. It’s a really nice resort.

Well, now that I’ve told you what’s in all the rooms, maybe I could try to give you a bit of a feel of the layout. Here goes. Well, when you enter the condo, almost immediately to your left is the Guest Bedroom, which Lydia, Ruth, and I share. To your right, is a very short hall (maybe you wouldn’t call it a hall?) with doors to the Guest Bathroom, the Hall Closet, and the Laundry Room. Continuing down the true hall, you will shortly have the Kitchen on your left, and the Den on your right. Passing those, you will enter the dining room. A little further, and you will be in the Living Room. Once in the living room, you have the patio doors in front of you, and the Master Bedroom doors to your right. Going into the Master Bedroom, the bedroom itself will be before you, and the bathroom to your right. Sorry if you can’t really make much of that.

Vacation Journal: Day 2

18 miles from Vail. Whoohoo! We’re nearly there! We reached our hotel last night well after midnight – around 2:30am. The rooms were quite nice – it was a two-room family suite. Mom and Dad’s room, which they shared with the younger four boys, had a king-sized bed and a Jacuzzi. The older four kids (and Buf) got the other room, with 2 queens. Lydia and I were in one bed, Nat and Essie in the other. Ruth slept in the Pack-N-Play between the beds. Both rooms had their own bathrooms and TVs. Nat, Essie, and I had oatmeal for breakfast, as we got up later than the breakfast was open. Lyd told me she had waffles. Yum.

This will be my third time at the resort in Avon. We’ve actually gone to Colorado three times already, but once we stayed in Breckenridge. It was quite nice there. There were 3 bedrooms – and another room that could be used as a bedroom! Probably the only problem there was that the altitude was pretty high, and several of us got sick the first few days.

Well, I’d better make sure I have everything ready to get out of the car. See you tomorrow!

Vacation Journal: Day 1

Hello again!

Thank you all for your thoughts and prayers. We left this morning as planned – if only a few hours later – we took off at about ten fifteen, I think. It was a little stressful to get all the packing in order in less than twenty-four hours, but it’s done!

Dad and I took Tipper to our friends yesterday evening. I was pretty sad to leave her, but I’m sure she’ll enjoy herself there.

We’re on the road right now, about 90 miles yet from Des Moines. It’s 4:21pm. We have stopped two times since we left the house – once, at Dad’s work, to pick some stuff we needed, and to eat a morning snack. We also filled up with gas before getting back on the highway. Several hours ago, we took a break at a rest stop to stretch our legs and have lunch. We ate peanut butter sandwiches, along with Sun Chips, really nice grapes, and applesauce. Yum! I saw three dogs there – a Schnauzer, Shih Tzu, and a white poodle. The Schnauzer was cute.

Our eleven-passenger van is now completely full, and Bufie’s joined the ‘Big Girls’ in the back, back, back seat. She’s actually behaved herself quite well, and it’s fun to have her try to repeat something we’ve said or done. Some of her hits – ‘Uh-oh!’ the Indiana Jones theme song, and trying to stick out her tongue and wiggle it at the same time by shaking her head back and forth. She’s ADORABLE! Sweetie Buf.

Other than playing with Ruth, Lydia and I have been amusing ourselves with various things. Watching LOTR on Mom’s laptop with earbuds; playing the Find All the State License Plates game, writing blog posts, playing with the new mini handheld Million Dollar Password game Dad got for vacation, trying to figure out how to knit, listening to songs I’ve bought from iTunes, enjoying seeing all the vacationing dogs at the rest stops (well, mostly me J ), playing Go Fish with our two new decks of Indiana Jones playing cards, loving Iowa’s flat, GIANT farm fields, giving Ruthie her play car dashboard to pull the brake handle over and over and over and over and over, trying to turn it off secretly so it won’t make noise (though it actually doesn’t sound that bad – it’s kind of cute), thinking about the puppy I’d like to have….

Oh – guess what movies Dad got us for the trip! Here you are: Babe, Milo and Otis, Love Takes Wing, Horton Hears a Who, Bob the Builder (Set of 3), Amazing Grace, and Kit Kittredge: An American Girl Adventure! There might be one more, but I don’t remember. Probably the one I’m most excited about is Kit. I really love that movie. It’s better done than the Samantha movie, and the Felicity one. I haven’t seen the Molly one, but I think it’s more along the lines of Samantha’s and Felicity’s.

Well, let’s see where we are now. It’s 5:59, and we took another stop while I was writing this, at the really nice rest stop between the Minnesota/Iowa border and Des Moines. We’ve gone 271 miles. That leaves 434 more to go tonight. Oh….. I guess I’ll probably be putting this on my blog tomorrow morning, if we have internet access. . Lord-willing, we’ll be stopping in Nebraska for the night, before the final 200 miles or so of the 1,072-mile trip to CO.

Stay tuned for the next post!

P.S. I will try to write again tomorrow – and sorry this was late.

Vacation Journal: Day –1

Hello everyone!

I thought it might be fun to keep a journal while we're on vacation, so I'll try to keep my blog updated during the next couple of weeks.

First of all, I should tell you where we're going. Avon, CO, to a really nice resort that my grandparents traded a week of their Florida timeshare for. We'll be there for a week, Sunday to Saturday, I think. It might be Sunday to Sunday – I'm not quite sure. I'm really looking forward to it, though I wish I could bring my dog along with me. I'm going to miss her a lot, though I like how dogs are so excited when they see you again after you've been gone for several days. But I know she'll be very well taken care of while we're gone. She's going to go stay with a family from church, who have almost as many kids as we do, and one of their girls really loves dogs. She'll have a lot of fun with them!

Well, I had been planning to pack the suitcases yesterday, so they'd be ready to go in the trailer today, but Mom and I went to the fair for a few hours to see a neighbor get an award for his farm having been in the family for a hundred years. We weren't home until 4:30, and I was pretty tired, as I'd gotten a cold a few days before. So none of the packing got done. And, right now, as you may have realized, I am sitting on my bed with Mom's laptop (Zac's with me :) ) writing this blog entry, and NOT packing. Reason: I have nearly lost my voice, my nose is plugged up, if I get up and talk, I start coughing, I'm having cramping, so...Mom told me to rest for a while. Any other day, I'd be perfectly content to just sit here and enjoy myself, but I wish I could be up packing and getting ready for the trip, as there is still A LOT to do, and we want to leave in seventeen hours from right now, although we probably won't get off until at least 6am tomorrow morning. We need to leave early though, as we've got ten and a half hours of driving time, barring bathroom breaks, gas breaks, meal breaks, and baby breaks. Which probably adds at least two hours onto that.

Would you please pray for us, that we would be able to get everything done today that we are supposed to get done and be able to leave on time tomorrow, and for me (and the rest of those in our family who are sick), that we would be healed quickly. And especially, that Mom and Zac would not get sick. And for all of us, that we would be given Christ's incomprehensible peace and joy as we get ready for this trip, and that we would be granted a new measure of faith and trust in His perfect plan and care. Thanks!

Zachary

I have a new baby brother!

So far, he is as close to a perfect baby as you can get. He never cries, unless he's hungry. He sleeps for hours at a time. He's a very beautiful baby. I pick him up almost every time I see him out of someone's arms. :) I love him so much. When Jon was a baby, he was so easy, and would fall asleep in my arms. Ruthie wasn't ever really a snuggler, but I still really, really love little Bufie. I am so happy that Zac is so sweet, so I can hold him a lot.

Here are some photos I just took of Baby Zac this afternoon:

Isn't he absolutely adorable? God Bless you, Zac! I love you!!!

My [Clean] Closet

A kid's least favorite thing to clean. Their rooms. And (along with under the bed), the very messiest part of kids' bedrooms would be...the closet.

I don't know if I've ever seen a closet messier than mine. It was a disaster. There were boxes in it, full of junk from our move. The move five years ago. Yes. It was bad. There were stuffed animals crammed in the corners; shoes that didn't fit anyone in particular jumbled on the floor; old sweaters stacked on the shelves. Sometimes it didn't even close.

Until yesterday.

For a very long time, we'd known we needed to clean the closet, but none of us wanted to do it. But at last, at Mom's urging, I decided it had to be done. Now. So, I recruited Lydia's help and together we completely – completely – cleaned out the closet. It looks so nice now! Finally...after five years. Hehe. It looks like we just moved in! And now we actually have a place to hang our clothes!

And from all this I learned something I didn't know before. Even fourteen-year-olds can hurt their backs.

Our Chickens

We live on six acres, and recently got our very first batch of chicks this past April. The 'chicks' are now almost eight weeks old, and have moved out into their coop (which is actually in our wellhouse). I have three that I named – Madi, Georgie, and Marion. We have five different kinds of chickens: Buff Orpingtons, Barred Plymouth Rock, Australorps, Black Sex-Links, and Gold Sex-Links. In total, we have twenty. Here are a few of them (I took these about a week ago):

Someone To Love Me

Some of you probably weren't quite sure what I meant, when in my previous post I mentioned my series, Someone To Love Me. Well, I suppose I ought to tell you a little more about that. I started the series in January of '08, I think. I filled an entire little 160 page journal with the very first beginnings of Someone To Love Me, the first book in the series. After a few months, I expanded the story to five books, the four later ones titled Someone To Keep Me, Someone To Humble Me, Someone to Forgive Me, and Someone Who Loves Me. They're about Jordan, a Greek slave-boy sold to the Nazarene carpenters. But I guess I can't really tell you much more, or I'd give it away! :) But here is an excerpt from the first book, when Jordan is eleven.

“Tell you what – you give me the boy, and I won’t take your land. We could use a good cleaning boy.” The soldier gave me a sneering grin.

I shrank against Jesus’ side. Surely he would not sell me.

“That doesn’t sound like a very fair trade,” said Jesus, his voice steady. Gulping, I seized his hand. He held it firmly.

“Hardly.” The soldier grunted. “I’m letting you off easy. I ought to take your sister.”

“Sister!” James glared at the soldier roughly. “You touch either of my sisters, and I’ll break your filthy neck.”

“Shut up. You know you wouldn’t dare anything so drastic.” The soldier looked gleefully confident.

“I didn’t mean you were the one who’d be shorthanded. If I gave you Jordan, will a field be just payment?” Jesus raised a questioning eyebrow. My heart was pounding.

The soldier looked at him incredulously. “You mean, you think this cur of a slave’s worth more than your farmland?”

“This cur of a slave is a prince of a son to my Father,” said Jesus, a little crisply. “Would you sell your brother to save farmland?”

“Maybe, if he looked like that.” The soldier laughed derisively. “So small. Is he human?”

“What on earth else would he be?” James snorted angrily. “A pig? What do you think, Roman?”

The soldier quieted himself with an effort. “Alright, alright. I’m only joking. No need to get testy.”

“Jordan will stay with me,” said Jesus. He waved toward the large, newly plowed field. “That – you may have.”

Relief washed over me like a wave. I gazed up at Jesus with new affection. “Prince of a son.”

“And jewel of a lamb.” A smile spread across Jesus’ face. “Come on – want a ride?”

I sprang onto his back with delight. Leaning close, I kissed his jaw. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” Jesus hooked his arms under my legs and gave me a bounce. Giggling, I scrabbled to stay on.

With a sudden jerk, I was pulled off. The soldier held me by the collar. “On second thought, I think I’ll take him. Keep your land.”

Jesus’ face grew threateningly grim. “I do not believe I told you you could have him.”

I tried to pull away from the soldier. He gave me a sharp yank. “I don’t believe that matters, does it?” The soldier pointed his spear dangerously close to Jesus’ neck. Jesus didn’t flinch. I’m not even sure he saw it.

“Let go of Jordan.”

The soldier didn’t obey. I watched my Master silently. I’d never seen someone, not even Rimdu, so menacing. How the soldier managed to have the courage to defy him was beyond me. One glance of his look, and I’d have been whimpering for his mercy.

“NOW!” His voice was deafening. Somehow, it didn’t disturb me, but disturb the soldier it certainly did. His spear fell from his hand with a clatter and broke in pieces on the ground. Staring in terror at Jesus, he pushed me toward him. I clutched Jesus’ arm tightly.

“Don’t hurt him, Master!” I begged, looking at the soldier fallen to his knees before us. His eyes were wide with fright; sweat trickled down his neck.

Jesus bent down to pick up the spear. It had been shattered – I’d seen it – but when Jesus’ fingers touched the spearhead, it became whole. I shut my eyes, and hid my face against Jesus’ side, afraid he was going to kill the soldier.

“Return to your commander.” I heard Jesus speak, and his voice was softer now. “You may tell him that the carpenters’ farmland is now at his disposal.”

I chanced a peek. The soldier was getting trembling to his feet; Jesus gave him his spear.

“Captain Marcus will punish me, sir, for coming in late.” The soldier’s voice was wavering and pleading. “I should have been back two hours ago.”

Jesus smiled kindly. “Tell him the King charges him to spare you. He will not hurt you.”

“The King sir?” The soldier looked confused.

“Yes.”

“Which king?”

“ ’The King’ will suffice.” Jesus touched the man’s shoulder and squeezed it. “Your sins are forgiven.”

A happy glimmer lit the soldier’s eyes, and he gave a tearful laugh. “Forgiven?”

“Yes, Galican.” Jesus’ eyes sparkled gently. It was strange to think that a moment ago, he’d yelled at this soldier so fiercely.

Galican looked for a moment at Jesus, and then, he bolted. Like a bowshot, he raced off down the street and vanished between the houses. I couldn’t help a smile. I wouldn’t have guessed Galican would have responded to Jesus’ mercy just like I had.

I looked up at Jesus and leaned against him. “I like him.”

Jesus pulled me close. “He is your brother.”

“Oh, yeah. Then I like him even more.” I squealed with delight as Jesus hoisted me up onto his shoulders.

“ ’Your sins are forgiven?’ ” James turned from watching where Galican had disappeared. “What sort of thing is that to say? Are you claiming deity?”

“I meant what I said,” said Jesus. “The man is forgiven.”

“Only God can forgive sins, Jesus. And that man is only a Gentile!” James was angry. The veins in his neck were swelling. “You should have given him the thrashing he deserves.”

“ ‘It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth.’ The Messiah was sent not only to the Jews, James, but to the Gentiles as well.” Jesus watched James pace in front of him. “Gentiles need forgiveness as much as Abraham’s descendents.”

James suddenly turned on him and raised a hand. I cried out in protest, but James didn’t heed me. He smacked Jesus, hard, across the face. Jesus stepped backward from the force. He didn’t say a thing, but his body was tense beneath me – he was in pain.

“You aren’t God, Jesus!” James shouted at him, an anger in his face that seemed almost sorrowful. “You are a man – a man – and you need to realize it. You aren’t stupid – can’t you understand?”

“James,” said Jesus, and I was surprised to hear how patient he sounded. “It is you who needs to understand.”

Teenage John?

About a year ago, my Mom went to a homeschooling conference and was introduced to the concept that perhaps Jesus’ disciples weren’t the seasoned, scholarly men that are depicted so often in church artwork. Maybe they were...teenagers? Now don’t cough quite yet. There is logic to the idea. Matthew 17:

When they came to Capernaum, the collectors of the two-drachma tax went up to Peter and said, “Does your teacher not pay the tax?” He said, “Yes.” And when he came into the house, Jesus spoke to him first, saying, “What do you think, Simon? From whom do kings of the earth take toll or tax? From their sons or from others?” And when he said, “From others,” Jesus said to him, “Then the sons are free. However, not to give offense to them, go to the sea and cast a hook and take the first fish that comes up, and when you open its mouth you will find a shekel. Take that and give it to them for me and for yourself.”

Since he only ensures Peter’s tax, aside from his own, you might conclude that the others had already paid. Which is not illogical – the collectors were wondering whether Jesus paid the tax, so perhaps most of the disciples had already paid and only Peter and Jesus were left. But maybe they hadn’t already paid their taxes. Because they didn’t have to pay them. Only men over age 20 had to pay the half-shekel tax, as census offering when they visited the temple of God. So, if they weren’t men over age 20, then they would have to be teenagers.

Of course, this passage does not directly state that the others did not pay the temple tax. They may very well have. But there are other evidences supportive of teenage disciples.

• Only Peter is known to have been married; back then Jewish men only received wives after age 18. That is, if you got married. Jesus wasn’t, and he was thirty.

• The disciples often acted like adolescents: Fighting over who would be the greatest in the Kingdom; asking Jesus if he wanted them to call down fire on an unfriendly village; annoying their older brothers (How many times do I have to forgive him?); so terrified by a storm that they woke up Jesus.

• He did call them ‘little ones.’ I wouldn’t mind him calling me that at age forty, but, still, it’s something that could be taken into account.

• I won’t blame this entirely on youth, but they do sometimes appear to be slightly dense.

• Revelations is believed to have been written in 95 or 96 A.D. How old would that make John?

I suppose it doesn’t really matter whether they were young or old. Since the Bible doesn’t tell us, I guess it isn’t vital for us to know. Still, being very interested in the particulars in Jesus and his time on earth, I'm looking forward to asking him how old they were.

For now, I think I’ll hope they were teenagers. I guess I have to – since, after all, that is how old they are in my series Someone To Love Me. Johnny, exuberant and endearing, is only fifteen when Jesus calls him and his old brother, James.

Hello, Everyone!

Well, this is my very first experience in the blogging world. All of my friends seem to have blogs, and Mom and I were thinking that it was about time I got one. I hope you'll enjoy your visits here and won't be too bored by my rambling.