A Car She Wanted...Yes.

This obviously happened a few years ago, but I thought it was funny.

In 2001, 26-year-old Jodee Berry had bested the other servers at her restaurant in a competition to see who could sell the most beer in a month to that eatery's customers, with the winner to receive a new Toyota. When the day came for her to be presented with her prize, Berry was led blindfolded to the restaurant's parking lot to receive her award, but when the blindfold came off she was devastated to learn that the promised jackpot was not a Toyota automobile but rather a toy Yoda, a Star Wars doll. She quit her job and sued Gulf Coast Wings, Inc., the corporate owner of the restaurant, alleging breach of contract and fraudulent misrepresentation. In 2002 the suit was settled for an undisclosed amount of money, which one of the attorneys involved in the case said would enable her to go to the local car dealership and "pick out whatever type of Toyota she wants."

A car she wanted, yes.

—b

Favre Retires

Statement from Packers General Manager Ted Thompson:

Brett Favre has informed us of his intention to retire from the Green Bay Packers and the NFL. He has had one of the greatest careers in the history of the National Football League, and he is able to walk away from the game on his own terms - not many players are able to do that.

The Packers owe him a tremendous debt of gratitude. He has given Packers fans 16 years of wonderful memories, a Super Bowl championship among them, that will live on forever. Brett's many accomplishments on the field are legendary. He leaves the game holding virtually every career passing record, plus his consecutive starts streak, which may never be duplicated.

The uniqueness of Brett Favre - his personality, charisma and love of the game - undoubtedly will leave him as one of the enduring figures in NFL history.

Details of Brett Favre's availability to discuss his decision are still to be determined, and will be announced once set.

Read more here.

—b

MacGyver Hair Dresser

(Click to enlarge)

What do you think? Is this picture real? (I'm honestly asking, I don't know.) If it is real, what do you think they use for scissors? A sheet of paper, a paper clip, and some bubble gum?

—b

Elderly Infestation

Today's post topic comes courtesy of Erin. After the following events, she said "You need to write about this on the blog". So I will do my best in not only honoring my wife's wishes, but doing justice to the portray the event as humorous as it happened.

We had a few errands to run after church yesterday and Brevin was getting hungry. No, I take that back, Brevin was already hungry. So instead of driving the 35 minutes back home just to feed him and leave again, we decided to hit up Baker's Square. The decision was more for a place we could cure his hunger than for us to eat. But hey, why not kill two birds with one stone. (I've always wondered as to the origin of that saying.)

The aforementioned (that was a big word that I had to look up how to spell) Baker's Square has a reputation for housing the elderly. It seems whenever we go there, which isn't all too often, we lower the average age by 75%. Yesterday was no difference. In fact, it seems as if it were an elderly infestation. They were everywhere! We wondered if we were walking into a retirement home by accident.

After potential parking places were taken (twice), I was already a little anxious to get in and get our name down. As I was waiting in line (or what I thought was the line) to tell the hostess party of two plus a high chair, an elderly man (who was also apparently anxious to get his name in) shoved his way in front of me all-but bowling me over. Literally! I immediately looked at Erin to see if she saw what just happened. She had a look of shock and laughter and went and hid in a corner.

After the man got through me, he stood parallel to the couple in front of me. They looked at him and said they had already gotten their name and were waiting. So of course as the hostess asked who's next, the elderly enforcer lunged at her to get his name in. Fair enough, I was next anyway, no big deal.

As I made my way back to the corner Erin had found to take refuge, I felt as though I had Harry Potter's cloak of invisibility on. I kept getting run into. Mind you it was packed in the waiting area, but there is typically some sense of order as people usually hug the walls to get out of the way. Not so with the advanced in age. They were old and had rights. Barry Sanders would have had difficulty escaping them. They were relentless. They had canes, carts, walkers, and came they came in two's. There was no getting around them.

As I finally made it to Erin's Fortress of Solitude, we were both laughing at the situation. As if we needed any more blog fodder, another elderly couple walks through the door and spies two recently vacated spots on a bench. The wife then asks the lady who was sitting there to move down to the other end of the bench so she and her husband could sit down. The funny thing is, the couple could have just taken a few more steps to get around the lady and sit down. Nope, they had her slide all the way down to the other end so the couple didn't have to walk around her!

Not long after we heard "Erin, party of two." Excellent, we get to leave this madhouse. As we were making our way up to the front, "ERIN!" was said loudly by an old man who apparently thought we were taking too long. Ironic huh? The elderly telling us to hurry up.

We were laughing all the way to our booth. Who would have thought a trip to Baker's Square could be so entertaining.

Finally seated and amidst feeding a very hungry Brevin, we hear a loud "GONG!" I look behind Erin to see an old lady had struck the suspended glass bowl looking light above her table with her cane. Classic.

Thank you Lord for the little things in life which makes us enjoy it.

I'll leave you with a quote from the great theologian Lloyd Christmas of Dumb and Dumber.

"Hey! While though slow and dangerous behind the wheel, the elderly still can serve a purpose."

—b

(Click to enlarge)

Saturday Mornings and Beyond

(Click to enlarge)

During each of Brevin's "stages", I try to keep telling myself to enjoy it while it lasts. And although I'm tempted to lump him in a broad "baby" stage, it's fun to see his little advances. Whether it's taking a bottle, moving up in clothe/diaper sizes, smiling/laughing, and now sitting up, I sometimes find myself saying "remember when" and he's only 7 months old.

Each "stage" does go as quickly as it came. Now as a rookie dad I don't know when that starts to slow down, but it's going fast. The reason I bring this up is this morning was his first "solid" breakfast. (Man I'm using quotations a lot in this post. Can you tell I'm not completely "with it"?) (Yes I used those quotations on purpose.) ;)

Anyway...being he's started eating cereal in the morning, it got me looking forward to when he's old enough to get up on his own, the both of us go downstairs (or where ever the family room happens to be) each having a bowl of Count Chocula, and watching Saturday morning cartoons with each other. I realize that's a few years away but going back to my initial ramblings of "stages", it won't be that long.

I'm really looking forward to being involved in his life. Watching what he's watching. Listening to what he's listening to. Doing what he wants to do. Obviously Erin and I are going to do our best at leading by example and guiding what media he does take in, but whatever his interests are, I want to be involved.

Some of my favorite memories consist of my parents being involved with us while we were growing up. Whether it was my mom taking us to the library during the summer to check out the books we wanted. Or my dad taking my brother and I to the baseball card shows and each of us, including my dad (much to the chagrin of mom) purchasing sports cards.

It was fun to do whatever I enjoyed with my folks. Of course they would bring us to church, their friends homes, or errands that we wanted nothing to do with. (Yes I said church.) But they were setting a good example even though I didn't see at the time. (Like probably every other kid, I thought they did it just to be mean.) ;)

My point of my current soapbox is before Brevin doesn't want to hang out with me, I'm gonna hang out with him. I know I won't always want to, but I'm going to make a conscious effort to put him before myself.

So on behalf of all of the sons and daughters out there, thank you mom's and dad's for leading by example by spending time with us.

—b

Men's Hand Lotion

I love winter. No surprise there. But my knuckles always crack and bleed which leads my wife to say my hands look "gross". Fair enough and I can't disagree with her. But the only hand lotion we have in the house came from Bath and Body Works. So if I want my knuckles to heal, I have no choice but to use it.

Now I'm not the most manly of men but come on. I had to suck it up and come to work smelling like Cucumber Melon. Nice. So that got me thinking. I know there are "odor-less" lotions but what about lotions designed for guys. You know "guy smells". Not a huge market I can imagine but none-the-less, I'd rather smell like one of the following:

(Please excuse my shotty quality of work. Being I'm at work, I didn't want to take a lot of time with this.)






So who's with me? I'm mean, who wouldn't want to smell like dead fish? ;)

—b

Trophy Vaccum

I don't know either.

—b

Happy Birthday Grandpa Johnson!

We all love you Kevin/Dad/Grandpa Johnson!

—b

A Martyrs Purpose

A 29 year old missionary in the Middle East was killed late last night due to his faith in Jesus Christ. He was living in a small community quietly serving the Lord. Although he stood out, he fit in. He had many friends, most of them were not Christians but loved him just the same.

Approximately 2:27 am CST, a militia group (not in affiliation with Al-Qaeda) attacked the community this young man called home. There was no apparent reason for the attack except to "steal, kill, and destroy." The majority of the residents of that community were able to flee with nothing but the shirts on their backs. The dozen or so who were captured were being taken as captives to the militia's compound.

As the other future victims were yelling, cursing, and crying during their death march, the young man calmly obeyed his captors instructions. Not only that, but he would casually attempt to strike up a conversation with them as well. He would ask about their religion and whom they believed in. His questions weren't answered but almost demanded respect for him as he was respecting them.

As they reached the camp, all of the captives (men, women, and children) were set on fire while not only the militia watched, but their family and friends as well. All of the captives except for the young missionary. While he did fit in, he did stand out. The militia soldiers immediately called to attention not the color of his skin, but the peace that had engulfed him.

It wasn't he didn't know the eventual outcome of the early morning raid. He knew his fate would be the same as those around him. This "peaceful difference" screamed at the soldiers. So much so that his demeanor demanded attention. Amidst the blaring sounds, smells, and feeling of fresh death, a few of them asked if he was scared to die.

He told them he didn't want to die but if this was God's will, he knew he would see Him soon. "Who is your God?" was inquisitively brought up by a soldier a bit younger than the missionary. Without a second thought "Jesus Christ" came from the 29 year olds mouth.

This set into motion a fury of anger, hate, and abuse towards the missionary. Although, not everybody was taken back by his answer. In fact, a few of the soldiers didn't seem surprised.

What appeared to be the leader of the militia stormed over to the young man getting within an inch from nose to nose. "Who is your God!?!" the man shouted once again.

In the same calm and peaceful tone, the young missionary spoke "Jesus Christ". The leader in turn struck the back of the Christians legs forcing him to his knees. "Crawl to me!" shouted the leader.

The man obeyed only with each painful advance, he quietly said "Jesus". The Christian didn't know what to do, the only thing he did know was Jesus. As the leader continued to taunt this follower of Jesus, a large crowd had gathered around the incident.

Loud chanting ensued. "Crawl, crawl, crawl!" But the young man kept saying quietly "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus." Amidst this he was praying, "Lord help me know what to do. Lord forgive them for they know not what they do."

The obedient Christian finally reached the antagonistic leader. He took the man by the arm forcing him to stand. "You believe in baptism do you not?" They both knew the question was rhetorical. "Well here we will baptize you with fire!"

The leader commanded the same young soldier who had earlier asked "Who is your God" to attach the Christian to a well burnt steel frame. As the young soldier strung up his captive for his final moments on earth, he looked into the Christians eye's and saw what he didn't expect. Nothing. Nothing scared. Nothing hateful. Nothing remorseful. Nothing. Only peace and what also looked like the love of a brother. The soldier knew he would never forget the look in his prisoner's eyes for as long as he lived.

At that moment, the young missionary knew why he was going to die for his faith. The soldier. The young soldier who would not only witness this final moments, but was responsible for his death. As the flame was lit, he had his last earthly conversation with his Heavenly Father. "Lord, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven. Please meet this young man and take him into your care. May you be glorified in his life. May my death lead him to life. I love you Lord."

"Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him, knowing that Christ, having been raised from the dead, is never to die again; death no longer is master over Him. For the death that He died, He died to sin once for all; but the life that He lives, He lives to God. Even so consider yourselves to be dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus." —Romans 6:8–11

--

That young missionary was me in a dream I had last night. I woke up at 2:27 am this morning and new I wouldn't forget that dream. I want to have such a strong relationship with and love the Lord so much, the previous would be me. To love my captors. To have peace with my fate. To remember it was God's will and love Him for it. That would be my martyr's purpose.

I usually don't remember what I dream about. And when I do, it's about being Spider-Man or joining the rebellion against Darth Vader, but this time it was obviously different. I usually have the honor of leading devotions here at work on Tuesday's and what you just read is what I presented today. I just felt the Lord leading me to write out my dream and share it with others.

I also feel I must give a disclaimer. I didn't remember every detail that I relayed. The majority and overall message was conveyed but I don't remember all of the details. I had to add some creative liberty in my story.

The reason for the "Persecution.com" banner is it's a great website put on by Voice of the Martyrs. Most of you have probably heard of them. They are a great organization and share sobering and truthful stories of followers of Jesus around the world. Check it out when you have the time.

—b

Subscribe to Inconsistancy

Due to my inability to achieve my own low set goals, I thought I'd point out a feature that some of you may not have known about. Underneath the PacMan game on the right hand side is this Subscribe feature. If you type in your email, every time I update this blog, you'll get an email sent to you so you don't have to check in wondering if I did indeed create a new post.

Pretty simple and no spam. You can also unsubscribe whenever you wish. The only thing I'm not sure of is the automatic emails get sent to your inbox vs. your junk mail folder.



—b

Dedication Weekend

(For more pictures of the weekend, click here or the link at the bottom of this post.)

This past weekend was busy in a good way. We had both sets of parents here (and of course Naener as well) for Brevin's Dedication. (Do Baptists capitalize "Dedication"?)

One thing Erin and I always take for granted is how well both sets of parents get along with each other. In fact, I dare say "like" each other! ;) Besides the whole Viking/Packer rivalry, they are quite similar. The biggest factor should go without saying in how much both sets of Brevin's grandparents love Jesus. This boy better not turn out "emo". He's got too many loving people around him.

(On a side note, I also had more people loving me when I went through my "black period". I'll love him no matter what he decides to do.)

Anyway, last week Erin asked me to write up something for the bulletin as a bio for Brevin. I think it's funny that we have to come up with something to write about him. What am I supposed to write about? He's 7 months old, he hasn't really accomplished a whole lot. ;) So I came up with a bio I figured would be appropriate for the Sunday. The following is what I wrote and submitted to Erin for her approval:

She said, "Oh, my lord! As your soul lives, my lord, I am the woman who stood here beside you, praying to the LORD. For this boy I prayed, and the LORD has given me my petition which I asked of Him. So I have also dedicated him to the LORD; as long as he lives he is dedicated to the LORD" And he worshiped the LORD there. —1 Samuel 1:26-28

Just as Hannah prayed for Samuel, we prayed for Brevin Isaac. The Lord knew all along He would bless us with a son, what we needed to have was a continued faith in a loving God. Not only did God know about Brevin before we did (Psalm 139:13), God also knew his name.

We wanted a family name for our firstborn, but who does he get named after? Bernt's family? Erin's family? Why not both? Just as husband and wife became one (Mark 10:8), our firstborn son would follow suit. Bernt's father is Bruce, while Erin's is Kevin; hence Brevin.

As we live under grace and raise our son as he should go (Prov 22:6), only God knows what is to become of Brevin. It is our job as parents to make sure Brevin's main source of nourishment, comes from that which gives life, God our Father (John 6:56).

Not five minutes after I IM'd it to Erin, she called saying "That's nice...but...it's to churchy. Can you make it funny?" Hmmm...k. Sure. The following is my second attempt:

Brevin Isaac Eidsmoe. Circa July 20, 2007.

Immediately this little guy hit the public eye with questions concerning his name. Why "Brevin"? Is it marketable? Are the Erik's, Chris', and Steve's of the world ready for a Brevin? When the questions from the marketing department arose, Co-creator's Bernt and Erin Eidsmoe held a press conference to disclose the origin of the name. The following is a portion of the complete transcript:

"When the honor of naming anything is given, especially a gift from God, Bernt and I take the responsibility with the utmost of care." Said the mother Mrs Eidsmoe. She continued with, "Both Mr. Eidsmoe and I wanted to carry on a family name and due to the fact we could not choose one of our father's over another, we decided to combine the two. For those of you who haven't been informed, my husband's father's name is Bruce while my father's name is Kevin. I believe you will find the resulting name to be most pleasing and agreeable."

Mr. Eidsmoe then stepped to the microphone and yelled "Yeah!"

She said, "Oh, my lord! As your soul lives, my lord, I am the woman who stood here beside you, praying to the LORD. For this boy I prayed, and the LORD has given me my petition which I asked of Him. So I have also dedicated him to the LORD; as long as he lives he is dedicated to the LORD" And he worshiped the LORD there. —1 Samuel 1:26-28

Not knowing what my more down to earth wife would think, I was already mentally preparing to write a third draft. But as soon as I submitted it, I got the approval to run with it. Wow. I was not expecting that. So, Sunday came and that's what ran.

Thanks honey for letting me be me.

—b

FYI, Click here for a bunch of pictures takes by my dad. Thanks dad, they turned out great!

"Sky Angel Cowboy"

Hey everyone,

It's been a while since I wrote and my new goal is to at least get one new post up per week. We'll see. Anyway, I stumbled upon this and just had to share it.



—b

Erin's Owie

Greetings true believers!

(Ok, so I stole that greeting from Stan Lee but if you have to copyright infringe on someone, it might as well be him.)

Anyway, after a long Christmas/New Year's break, it seems as though I'm no where near getting caught up again. It sure doesn't take much for me to fall behind. Despite my never ending task list, I thought I'd share Tuesday's adventure.

At about 3:30 I got a call at work and at the other end was two babies crying along with my wife. From what I could make out in between sobs, Erin was peeling potatoes (with a brand new serrated peeler mind you) and had sliced off a chunk of skin; the tip of her pinkie to be more precise. She continued between pain bursts to tell me she was in a tremendous amount of pain, couldn't get the bleeding to stop, and both Brevin and Haddie (the little girl Erin babysits) were both bawling.

I had a new found appreciation for 911 phone operators. I did my best to calm her down and tried to help her get the bleeding to stop before I left the office. Thankfully Haddie's mom Arika had left STEM 10 minutes prior and should be at our place anytime.

By the time I arrived home 15 minutes later, the scene was completely different from what I heard over the phone. Arika was entertaining Brevin, Haddie was walking around playing by herself, and Erin had stopped crying and had her pinkie wrapped in paper toweling and ice. The bleeding still hadn't stopped but the situation didn't seem so dire.

I'll admit I initially was skeptical as to whether or not we needed to seek medical attention or not. But that quickly changed when I looked down at the kitchen sink and saw Erin's finger tip chunk-o-skin. EWW! EWW! EWW! I wasn't nearly as squeamish when I saw her actual finger though. Where our pinkies curve was now flat and bloody.

Again, thankfully Arika was there to watch Brevin as we headed the few blocks to the hospital. We had to wait 10-15 minutes in the waiting room (which of course seemed much longer). Erin's finger still hadn't stopped bleeding as I had to get more toweling from the men's room. But when we were able to be seen, it had stopped. As they unwrapped our home-made suture, the doctor said there would be no stitches since there was nothing there to stitch, but they would clean the wound, make sure the bleeding had truly stopped, give her a professional bandage and send us home.

What was cool was what they put on the owie help with the bleeding. They said it was pretty new and that it looked like cottage cheese. They were right. The "cottage cheese" came in what looked like a sweet and sour container from McDonald's and when they put it on, it immediately only adhered to the blood only. Like I said, pretty cool. There was even another EMT in there just to see the cottage cheese go to work. Before they sent us on our way, they said to soak the owie a few times a day and in a few months, her finger tip would look normal again.

Looking back, we definitely saw God's hand (pun intended) in it all. The fact that Arika was on her way, the location of the hospital, my availability to come home from work, and that I didn't have freelance that night.

Speaking of freelance, this month should hopefully be the last of a very busy freelance period. I'm gone about three nights a week which leaves Erin a single mom for more than I'd like. I'm not complaining though since working with John at City Vision is crucial to get bills paid.

Having said that, I obviously haven't been able to spend the time with my family that I'd like. So one can't help but wonder if Erin didn't slice her finger tip off just to get some attention. You know kids these days. ;) Just kidding honey. I love you!

—b

UPDATE: Erin's finger is looking much better. To even quote her and stick with the food theme "It looks like a bloody raisin." Yum.

Erin's Owie (Teaser)

Well, as the pattern has been recently, I ran outta time. I need to leave right from work to head over to work with John at City Vision. Anyway, some of you all ready know the story, but for those of you who don't you'll just have to tune in tomorrow for the scoop on Erin's Owie.

—b

Merry Christmas From McDonald's

Since the Eidsmoe family will be in Peshtigo for a while, I'm not sure how much, if any, I will be able to blog. So having said that, here is one of my favorite Christmas commercials. Vintage 1980s.

Enjoy.



Merry Christmas from McDonald's! :)

—b

Bicuspid Aortic Disease

The day of Brevin's birth, we were told he had a heart murmur. "Most of the time it goes away as the heart develops" said our pediatrician to reassure us. Sure enough, at one of the following appointments, there was no trace of a heart murmur. But when Brevin's 3 month checkup came around, the murmur was back.

Twice a month a heart specialist visits our clinic so Erin set up an appoint for this past Monday. Upon further review and a few hours in the hospital, Brevin was diagnosed with Bicuspid Aortic Disease (BAD).

So what does that mean?

Anytime you hear "heart" and "disease" in the same sentence, you immediately put the two words "death" and "sentence" together. But hold your horses! For a quick answer to contain any panic, "two-thirds of people that have a bicuspid valve, it functions well for life."

What is a Bicuspid Aortic Valve?

According the American Heart Association:

The term bicuspid aortic valve refers to the leaflets of the aortic valve. This is the valve that leads out of the heart to the aorta, the big blood vessel that delivers oxygen-rich blood to the body. Normally, the aortic valve has three leaflets. A bicuspid valve has only two leaflets.

Because of this, patients with a bicuspid valve may develop a narrowing or leakage of the aortic valve. Narrowing or leakage of aortic valves do not necessarily develop in childhood, but may occur in adulthood. On rare occasions these problems require repair, either with a balloon (cardiac catheterization) or surgery. To determine whether narrowing or leakage is present and related to the bicuspid aortic valve, the cardiologist follows the patient with non-invasive tests that may include: electrocardiograms, echocardiograms and stress tests. If narrowing or leakage of the valve becomes severe enough to require intervention, your doctor will explain this to you in more detail. In many cases, bicuspid aortic valves do not require any intervention in childhood and children with them may not need activity restriction. A pediatric cardiologist will make specific recommendations for activity restrictions for each patient based on the severity of the valve narrowing or leakage. Restrictions may be put in place to assure that a normal amount of oxygen gets to the patient's heart muscle at all times.

So what does this mean for Brevin?

Brevin's next "heart" appointment is when he turns one. I'm assuming they will do the same thing to him they did Monday which is put those stickers on him with cords attached to monitors and then look at his heart via an ultrasound. We will have to monitor his heart, at least for now, on an annual basis.

Initially the heart specialist said we would have to monitor his "strenuous activities". ie. football, weight lifting, hockey. But that's only if his valve starts to become "insufficient". So for those of you who thought Brevin couldn't try out to be a Packer, fear not. As long as his valve is handling the blood flow normally, he could be the next Brett Favre. (Ok, so he won't achieve that status with my genes, but you get the picture.)

Other than that, Brevin should have a normal life with no restrictions.

If you'd like more info, eMedicine.com is a great website that has helped me and where I got the majority of my stats.

Bottom line is anytime you hear your child has a heart disorder, you are obviously concerned. And being that out of Erin and I, I'm the more relaxed one, Erin took the news extremely well. I was so proud of her! She didn't get worked up but just wanted all the information she could.

After we found out, Erin called both sets of parents and explained the situation to them. I'm not sure how they took it but let me just reassure them that Brevin is loved by God and when Brevin is old enough to understand, I know he will love God as well. The big picture is easy to forget, but ultimately, that's our only hope in this life.

If you think about it, would you lift up Brevin in prayer every now and then? Pray that we would keep this disease in the back of our heads and not dwell on it. Pray for healing concerning his valves and that God would open the third up. Pray that Erin and I would be wise in how we monitor this lifelong condition (that is unless God intervenes).

Thanks again everyone and Merry Christmas!

—b

Love As Jesus Loved

(Insert Vikings fans reading level joke here.)

Dagnabbit, I'm making time to write today! I don't care what is on my plate!

This is why Christmas is fun. Dad's and daughters get to dress alike and read the same books; the mom's get together in the kitchen to make holiday candy; the dad's relax in the family room while discussing open dates to travel to the boundary waters. That's what makes Christmas fun. Being together with those you love. In this case, immediate family.

For us, Christmas truly did come early this year. And the best part, we get a second Christmas in the same year! God is good.

At the same time, don't think we don't have our "tense" moments as well. Unfortunately no ones life is always a Norman Rockwell painting. We take the good with the not so good. The highlight of every holiday is spending it with family. Period. No green grinch can ever take that away. But at the same time, the lowlight of every holiday seems to happen while spending it with family. Question mark. Being born into sin sucks. I don't need to even go into specific examples of how families fight during the holidays. That seems to just as much of a tradition as the gifts.

Now please don't read anything into this post. We had a great time with no "family fights". But God has put it on my heart this morning to encourage anyone who reads this with family tension to love as Jesus loved. After all, that's the origin of this holiday anyway.

I was convicted this past weekend of not loving as Jesus loved. I ran through the motions of visiting my grandpa in the nursing home all the while looking at my slowly ticking watch. The thing is, I love my grandpa. I can make all the excuses I want for not enjoying my time there. But ultimately, I didn't love him like Jesus does. And unlike a 30 minute sitcom, this problem won't be solved after the last commercial break. But what I do know is I was thinking of myself first.

The point of this rather depressing tale is to, again, encourage you. If you have planned events with family that you aren't looking forward to. Will you please learn from my mistake and think of them before yourself? I went into that nursing home with the wrong attitude. I love my grandpa but I loved myself more.

I'll end my soapbox special with a passage from 1 Peter 4:8-11:

Above all, keep fervent in your love for one another, because love covers a multitude of sins. Be hospitable to one another without complaint. As each one has received a special gift, employ it in serving one another as good stewards of the manifold grace of God. Whoever speaks, is to do so as one who is speaking the utterances of God; whoever serves is to do so as one who is serving by the strength which God supplies; so that in all things God may be glorified through Jesus Christ, to whom belongs the glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.

Now, just so I don't leave you with a heavy heart, here is the highlight of Christmas in Moorhead 2007.

It was time to start opening gifts. My dad was under the tree and literally tossing the presents to everyone. (Yes, I am my dad's son.) As we were all sitting in a semi-circle catching the gifts, my dad tossed one to me that didn't quite make it. Instead of hitting me, it hit the lamp next to me. As the gift made contact with the lamp, my mom who is sitting on the opposite side of the room, jumps up with a full cup of coffee in hand, trying to stop the collision.

The end result was her dumping her entire cup of coffee on herself, kicking Christmas presents everywhere, and causing the rest of us to burst out laughing. We, including mom, were all laughing so hard not one of us had a dry eye. What mom thought she could do to prevent the errant gift from hitting the lamp from the other side of the room, we'll never know. What's even better was the only fatality of it all was a 50 cent lightbulb and mom's now coffee stained outfit. Thank you mom for being who you are!

Merry Christmas everyone!

—b

I'm Trying!!!

Aargh! I'm trying to make time to post, really I am!

—b :(

Baby Fish Mouth?

In honor of my freelance friend John Mayer...enjoy bud. I'm still laughing at this.



—b

A Cop-Out Post?

First off...stupid priorities!

Ok, sorry about that.

I think gravity must have been a little off that day.

I was going to try and give a recap of the past few weeks but then reality, having been jacked up on Balco products, punched me in the face. So here's hoping I can start afresh tomorrow.

At the risk of turning this thing into a Brevin-only blog, click here to see an updated photo album of Brevin and his older cousin Kayle. (Yes, people have been asking for some. And when I say people, I mean Naner.) ;)

—b