I know it's impolite to talk about your dreams, cause no one really cares, but help me out with this one.

In the crowd of some sort of summer camp/worship service with teenagers and young college students. My eye catches an open doorway where a nondescript man is standing, then turns and leaves. I follow him. It was daytime in the worship service, but night outside. I also realize a handful of people have come with me. I don't know who they are but it doesn't matter.

I follow the man up a hill and into the woods. To the right, through some trees, I see a campfire with an old, yet robust looking man. We pass that fire and head to another one where there are 4 or 5 people around. One is eating a log (yes, eating it), another is dancing, and another is stoking the fire. We sit down and the one stoking the fire asks me what I want to do.

"Touch the fire"

"What do you think will happen?"

"It won't burn me"

"Then go ahead"

I reach into the fire, a little hesitantly. I realize that in fact it doesn't burn me, but just feels warm, and then scoop it into my hands like water and wash it over my face. Filled with a really strange happiness. The same person asks me what I want to do now.

"I don't know. I feel like there's more"

"Oh, you just need to eat"

She (he?) leads me further up through the trees and they open up into an enormous "room" of dripping lava and gold and water. I can't even begin to describe it. There's a new person at the edge of clearing that asks me, "Is he serious about it?" I know that they're talking about Jim.

"Oh, yes, he's very serious."

"Then you need to be, too."

Then I woke up.

________________

I remember "thinking" in my dream that the old man at the first fire was God and the second fire represented facets of the Holy Spirit (but what about the guy EATING a log??). I just don't know though. It was so vivid and terrifying and felt so important the entire time. When I woke up I played through the entire dream over again to be sure I didn't forget. I've never had this happen to me.

Of course, the night before, I had a dream that I was on a VERY awkward date with Scott Hamilton.

Rethinking 'The Book of Eli'

Yes, it was gory. But the plot line of the entire movie followed Eli as he faithfully protected the last remaining copy of the Bible. I failed to illuminate how beautiful the end of the movie was. Still disheartened that I was so distracted by icky violence, but moving just the same.

Anyway, I ran across this video from the Desiring God blog that moved me to tears. Tears of joy, but also tears of acknowledgement that I don't always possess the same jubilance over the precious scriptures. Yes, sometimes it's there. But most of the time, I do not treasure the words of our very Creator. Enjoy.

Gory Romance

Jim gave me one of the sweetest Valentine's Day: roses, cooked a spaghetti dinner (dude, he makes the BEST spaghetti sauce), called a sitter, and took me to a movie.

We initially wanted to see Sherlock Holmes, but it had just left the theaters. We didn't really want to see the most likely formulaic Valentine's Day, so we decided on The Book of Eli.

I didn't know much about this flick going into it, but it ended up being just okay. I like ol' Denzel and the idea for the movie was pretty interesting to me. But, honestly, it fell pretty flat. If you are going to see this movie, you should also know that it's pretty graphic. Nasty. I hate gratuitous violence and I can especially do without torture scenes (not really any torture in this movie, though). Which brings me to my story.

Let's just say Denzel's character is supremely efficient at "opening up a can" with his crazy Japanese sword/machete thing. I really did cover my eyes multiple times so I wouldn't have to watch hands and feet and noses flying across the screen, with blood so cinematically trailing behind. I had to laugh, though, because with each gory scene, Jim would lean over and say, "Oh, sweetie, I love you so much." or, "Happy Valentine's Day, muffin". Hilarious.

What outraged me was the family that snuck in a quarter of the way through the movie and sat behind us WITH THEIR 6 YEAR OLD. Not only was it way past any 6 year old's bedtime, but this movie was NOT even appropriate for me, much less those tiny eyes... ::sigh::

Anyway, I think next year we'll just snuggle up on the couch with some popcorn and Saving Private Ryan.

Just to review...

Before sleeping through the night on a regular basis:

(Just so you know, if we didn't laugh, we'd cry...)

After sleeping through the night consistently:

Hallelujah.

Happy Valentine's, My Jim

It's an absolute treasure and joy to live this life with you. I can't wait until we get to go to The Real Wedding Celebration, how bout you?!

I love you, my Babel.

Puzzled.

Oh my goodness. My sister-in-law gave me FOUR new jigsaw puzzles (good ones, too, with pieces that actually fit together) and I'm completely and totally consumed by this first one.

I don't know precisely when my relish for puzzles came about, but I'm pretty sure the seed was sown at my grandparent's house. They frequently had a 1000-piece going on a card table, usually with one single piece hidden by my mischievous Boompa.

At the therapy center, we always have a puzzle going in the waiting room. When it's finished, we paint it with craft glue, frame it, and hang it on the wall. We probably have at least 25 puzzles completed - hard ones, too. Puzzles are fantastic for figure ground discrimination and attention development.

Everyone has their puzzle plan of attack, but it's usually a variation of:

1. flipping over all the pieces

2. organizing the straight edges

3. building the frame

4. diving into whatever little space calls your name first

5. and organizing like pieces as you go

If my back and eyes would allow it, I could sit and work on a puzzle all day long. I'll go 10 whole minutes with no progress and start to get frustrated. And then... all it takes is ONE PIECE to fit and I'm back into it.

The only thing I don't like is when I'm finished. I have about 1.3 minutes of satisfaction when I run my hands over the entire, glossy, finished product and breathe a sigh of contentment. But then what? I don't glue and frame them at home (I prefer "real" mediums for our wall art). I can't leave it out on the dining room table. So I have to do it. I pick up the edges and watch my hours of labor crumble. It all goes back in the box.

Jim will humor me for a few minutes every once in a while and join me on a puzzle. He readily says, though, "I'd rather create something".

Oh, well... I think I'll go finish that patch of sky and clouds...

James, at 7 months:

• LOVES to eat. Green beans, rice cereal, carrots, squash, peas (blegh!), apples, blueberries, peaches, sweet potatoes, anything! If it's on a spoon near his mouth, he'll dominate it. I'm so thankful that *so far* he's been such a good eater.
• Only wants to stand and walk around, with assistance of course. We try to have him on his tummy as much as possible so that hopefully he'll crawl first, but he HATES it. He'll just squirm around, pivoting 360 degrees, and reaching up for me, saying, "Eh, eh, eh, eh!!" It's pretty frustrating, because he could do so much exploring independently if he would crawl. He's still so young, but I can tell he's becoming curious about everything. But don't worry. I realize (in theory) the life-changing event that crawling or walking will be for Jim and me...
• Is sleeping, is sleeping, is SLEEPING!! He almost gratefully goes to sleep at 6:30 pm and we don't hear a peep until around 7 am. It's beautiful.
• Is still clinging to 40 minute naps. And I'm okay with that.
• Giggles when you kiss him.
• Waves!
• Can put his pacifier in by himself.
• Adores his daddy.
• Is just the most precious little boy in the entire world.