Griffin

Six years, 2 months, and 12 days. That's how old Griffin was yesterday. And it's how old he was when he made a decision that millions of people all over the globe will never make. He decided to follow Jesus.
He'd been asking questions for weeks now. Sometimes we'd have deep discussions about Heaven and sin and God. Sometimes he'd just ask a quick question, as if it were an afterthought. He is, after all, six.
But last night he said he wanted to pray. To say the prayer. The prayer that would make him forever a Christian. So in the simple language of a little boy, he admitted that he was a sinner, he said he believed that Jesus was God's son and that Jesus died on the cross for his every sin, and he asked Jesus to live in his heart forever, promising to live for Jesus.
Today, he woke up a new boy. No, his behavior is no different. He is still fighting with his brother and teasing his sister. He still wants to eat brownies for breakfast and pretend to be a ninja. But his heart has changed. If he (God forbid) took his last breath tonight, he would be immediately in the presence of Jesus, safe in His arms for eternity.
What a sweet, sweet thought. What relief as a mother to know that the most important decision he ever had to make has been made.

Birthdays...

Anne Claire made 3 this past week. I cannot believe that my baby is 3. She is speaking in more complete sentences. She is potty trained. For the first time in more than 8 years the South family no longer has to purchase diapers, pull ups, or wipes. That in itself is reason to celebrate! This year we spent way too much on the kids birthdays, but I think I've come to a conclusion: birthdays ARE a day to celebrate big. We have, in the past, made a smaller deal of birthdays but a wise person I know mentioned to me one day that birthdays are the day that God ordained for this little person to come into the world. When He created light and stars and rivers and every little thing that moves, He knew when my babies would be conceived and born, just as He already knows when they will take their last breath. His word says that we are "fearfully and wonderfully made" and calls us "blessed" to have children. I think our purpose in having children is to further the plans and the kingdom of God. So why not celebrate BIG when birthdays come around?
After all, we really are blessed.

Changing times....

How fast time flies, and how quickly things change! So much has happened in our family since Easter of this year. Our family went through some difficult --downright traumatic-- events which has left me still a bit mind-numb and a little depressed, but I am determined to march onward. The boys have started school (!!!) which has left me and Anne Claire alone during the day. We are still struggling to find our way without them, but we are enjoying the girl time. So far we have only managed to snuggle a lot and watch a lot of movies, but hopefully with time we'll figure out a schedule that will have me actually cleaning the house, which is in massive need of attention.
Tucker is in 3rd grade this year. He just turned 8 and is too smart for his own good. We are proud of him -- incredibly proud. He loves school. LOVES it. He is awake before anyone else, is always dressed and on most days, you'll find him urging the rest of us to hurry up so he isn't late.














Griffin turned 6 and is a kindergartner this year. He wasn't fond of the idea of not home schooling, and for the first month was often overheard saying "but we've been going to school FOREVER" when told that yes, he had school today and no, it wasn't time for school to be finished for the year. However, a few friends and 2 really wonderful teachers (props to Mrs. Summitt and Mrs. Ralston!!) have made the difference for our little Chi-Chi.














We chose to send them to Isidore Newman. It is a Jewish private school here in New Orleans. We did a lot of searching prior to making our decision. We were looking at academics, of course. Tucker read the brochure and was sold as soon as he read that Peyton and Eli Manning were among the list of distinguished alumni. It is an amazing place. Both Paul and I said the same thing the first time we went on campus...."I'd have LOVED to have gone to school here." The only Newman complaint comes from Anne Claire, who cries every time we pull away from the curb every morning...."I go to Newman, too!!!"














Paul is still in seminary. Another year left and he will be finished with another degree and prayerfully a new job! We plan to stay right here in the Crescent City and make New Orleans our home (unless of course God shows us a different path).
So yes, times have changed, but we are still here, still laughing (and crying), still eating beignets (and seafood and gumbo and red beans...), and still chasing after whatever it is that God has put us here for. Please continue to pray for us!

Easter 2009

What's so good about Friday?

Tucker was looking at my calendar and asked me what Good Friday was. I told him that it is the day that Jesus died. As I said it, I was prepared for his next question....."why is it called 'good' when something so sad happened?"
When I think of Jesus in Gethsemane, my heart practically aches. The Bible records Jesus' words as "My soul is overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death." Luke says that Jesus prayed so hard that his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground. Jesus asked His father to "take this cup from me", knowing what was to come. Yet he added "not as I will, but as you will." He knew what he had come for, and was willing to do whatever was required.
As Jesus endured the humiliation and the pain of the beating, the scourging, and the brutal, horrific act of crucifixion, his sinless soul took on the sins of every human being. Past, present, and future. And not just the "big stuff." Little things like ingratitude, prayerlessness, unconcern for the lost, a critical spirit, hypocrisy, envy, anger, jealousy, gossip, pride.
So what is so "good" about that?
Because it should have been me. It should have been you. But he loved us *so* much that he didn't want us to endure it. So he made a way for us. An "out", if you will. That kind of love is difficult to comprehend. As a parent, I can see a glimpse of that love. I would do anything in my power to spare my children from pain or heartache. But if my children hated me, despised me and turned their back on me and called me names, denied my very existence....would I still be willing to suffer and die for them?
I think of people that choose not to believe that Jesus is the Son of God, sent from heaven above to offer us peace, direction, purpose, and a plan. (Not to mention the unspeakable gift of life forevermore!) I wonder if they deny him because they simply cannot fathom that kind of love?
On Friday I will reflect back on that day that Jesus endured the cross for me. And I will undoubtedly cry tears of thankfulness that it didn't have to be me. Tears of sorrow that Jesus had to take it all on himself.
That, my friend, is what is so good about Friday.

What do you get when you leave a 2 year old alone with chocolate ice cream?

Afternoon coffee...

Coffee is perfect first thing in the morning. I, like many others, can barely start my day without a steaming hot cup of the dark brew. But many people, I've found, only consider coffee a morning drink. They wouldn't dare to drink it after, say, noon, for fear of it keeping them awake.
After I had my third child, my sweet little Pumpkin, I started daydreaming about coffee around 3pm every day. I had never indulged in afternoon coffee, as it seemed almost a waste of money. Coffee, after all, isn't cheap.
But then one day I thought....I really *need* a cup o' joe. So I made it and have never looked back. Every afternoon, you can bet I'll have a pot of fresh dark roasted goodness on.
Unfortunately, I don't have any coffee buddies around here. Coffee, I've found, is best when shared with a good friend. My friend Stefanie moved last year, but before she left, most days you'd find us sharing a cup of the dreamy black liquid. If Stef was serving, we'd be sipping out of beautiful purple mugs. If I were serving, we would be enjoying our java out of mismatched mugs that sported the names or logos of places I've visited. We'd sit and chat and watch our children play on the playground. Sigh. Those are good memories.
I love having coffee with my husband, who loves the stuff as much as I do (although I admit I worried when he began to stray with someone named Earl Gray. Despite his unfaithfulness, I know in my heart he still will take coffee over tea. Especially if I'm drinking with him). We recently celebrated our anniversary at a very upscale restaurant and finished off our $161 dinner with a cup of coffee. It was nothing short of delightful.
So do yourself a favor. Indulge in one of the most sinfully delicious vices I know. Put on a pot of coffee around 3 o'clock. I promise it will thrill your soul.
Don't bother thanking me. You're quite welcome.