From my private journal: December 26, 1992 My five year-old son (Timothy) told me that he wants to be a missionary/doctor/clown. A missionary because they tell people about Jesus. A doctor because they help to make sick people better. A clown because they make people happy.
(Originally posted on the website Continuum...) There was a fire in our town yesterday. Rumor has it that the fire was started by a 5 year old boy playing with matches in his bedroom. Thankfully, no one was injured. But the house appeared to be fully gutted by the flames. At first, I felt a little like the "Paparazzi" chasing Continue Reading →
(Originally posted on the website Continuum...) YOU KNOW WHAT? It's hot in here. The place is a mess. Clutter everywhere. Dishes piled high. It's five kids against one dad right now. Dad is losing the battle. My strategy? Through my hands in the air. Mumble some words that I wish were not in my vocabulary. Turn up the music Continue Reading →