Commissioning and Caption Contest

Yesterday our family was commissioned at our home church of Life Center. This was a momentous occasion, as it marked our official launch to France. We felt very loved, very supported, and very grateful.

Before he prayed for us, Pastor Joe interviewed us about our call to France. Apparently, I talk with my hands. Apparently, I talk a lot. But do you notice how attentive David looks all the time that I am talking? What a doting husband!

When David did finally get a word in edgewise, I showed him the same love and devotion that he showed me. I most certainly did not look distracted or bored while he spoke.

Okay, maybe I did.

Anyways, David and I both think that this photo is in desperate need of a caption. Can you help us? Leave a comment stating what you think would best fill the thought bubble over my head. Maybe we'll even award a prize for our favorite caption.

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Beware of Geeks Bearing Gifts

My boys (all three) just returned from a five day school trip to the Oregon Coast. Because they love me and missed me so severely, they came home bearing gifts. Thoughtful, romantic, personal gifts. Like this:

Who doesn't need a "Speek Squeek" button? This was particularly personal because my boys know that I have an irrational fear of small rodents, especially squirrels; and, they know how fond I am (not!) of creatively misspelled words. The blue and yellow are OH SO FRENCH--I am sure I will be at the height of fashion with this beauty pinned on my lapel. I honestly do not want to know what "squeeeky cheese" is. Some things are better left as mysteries.

The second gift they brought me was this:

It's always nice to know that someone thought of you when reading a label like this! Again, it has that wonderful French-y flair, for in Provence truffle hunting pigs are worth their weight in gold. I am not complaining. It was delicious. And cute, too!

Best pork I've ever eaten! And while those first two gifts were more than enough to make me feel special, they didn't stop with rodents and pigs. They finally got me the pony that I've always wanted:

POKEY! Gumby's trusty steed will set sail with us in fifty-some days. I can't wait to share their adventures with you.

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Excited?

At least once a day a dear friend asks me, "Are you excited?"

I know the answer should be, "Yes!"

After all, we heard the call to France way back in 2007. We were appointed by Greater Europe Mission in the Summer of 2008. We began the arduous (and still incomplete) task of fundraising in the Fall of 2008. This move-to-France-to-become-missionaries-thing has been a long time in the making. Now that the moment in upon us, now that a departure date is set, now that the dream is about to become a reality, don't you think I should be excited?

I want to be excited. I'm trying to be excited. I will be excited.

But in order to get to the point where excitement is possible for me, I have to face the reality of my disappointment.

"Disappointment?" you ask. "I thought that this was what you wanted."

And it is.

I knew this day would come. We did not make this decision lightly. We are certain that God has called us to France. At the same time, I am leaving a job that I love. I am leaving a home that I love. Most importantly, we are leaving friends and family that we love.

I will be excited as soon as I get over this mountain of grief.

I saw the mountain in the distance. I knew it was coming. I knew that it stood directly in the pathway to France. Indeed, I knew it was part of the call. Knowing a mountain is coming doesn't lessen the pain or make the climb any easier.

Today, I am struggling to leave well. I am looking to my Jesus, the Author and Perfecter of my faith. For the joy set before Him, He endured the cross. My grief pales in comparison. Nevertheless, there is a level of pain I must endure in leaving.

I see the joy on the horizon. And I promise to be excited when I get there.

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What Would You Bring?

Next Tuesday I am going to a brunch where each person has been asked to bring something tangible that represents God's work in her life.

I am not much of a collector and I hold on to very few tangible representations of anything; nevertheless, even I have a few items that would fit the bill. One immediately comes to mind.

There is a flower that has been firmly pressed between the pages of an old Bible of mine for about 15 years. It was given to me one night when I went to a prayer meeting with a houseful of total strangers. I knew only the hostess, who had casually invited me, but she had no idea of why I might be interested in coming to her prayer meeting. I went to the prayer meeting because I was desperate for one thing: a baby.

I had been trying to conceive for over a year, and I was going to ask these strangers to pray for me to get pregnant. Unfortunately, I got there late and everyone was already in small groups praying when I arrived. So I quietly joined a group, listened in to the prayers that were prayed, and wondered if I had missed my chance. An hour later all of the groups had said "Amen" and I was getting up to leave, having not spoken a single word since I entered the house.

As I moved towards the door, a woman I did not know who had been praying in a different group than my own approached me, holding a flower. She said to me, "I don't know you, and I hope this does not sound too strange to you, but when you came in the door, I believe that God told me that you were going to have a son this year." She went on to say that whenever God gave her a prophesy for someone, she gave that person a flower to press in the pages of their Bible to remind them of what God had said. She handed me the flower and walked away.

I was stunned. Speechless. And ran out the door before bursting in to tears. No one had ever prophesied over me before and I really did not know what to think. Of course I wanted to believe it was true, but after a year of disappointment I was afraid to hope.

That was February of 1995. David Graham Williamson, MY SON, was born in November of 1995. Though it is dry as a bone and falling apart, I still have that flower.

What would you bring?

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The Family that Plays Together

David and I have always been the type of parents who LOVE to play with our boys. We don't play with them because we should. We play with them because we think that they are fun, and we enjoy spending time with them. It is actually purely selfish.

It started when they were just babies with peek-a-boo and tickle monster. We later endured that horrific phase of CandyLands and Chutes & Ladders--eternal inane games made tolerable ONLY through the delight of our children. Once the world of cardboard spinners was fading in our rear view mirror, we found ourselves spending entire weekends building Lego masterpieces...a pastime that remains a part of our lives still. We have added board games like Settlers of Catan, RISK, Clue, and Monopoly, as well as numerous card games to the family repertoire.

Beyond games, we play music together on a regular basis. Loud music. Fun music. Worship music. And virtual music...as in Rock Band on the Wii. Which brings me to playing video games! We have had bowling tournaments, tennis matches, and all varieties of battles through the Play Station, the Wii, and the computer.

We play outside just as much: tossing a football, taking a hike, skiing, snowboarding, or kicking a soccer ball. We just LOVE to play together.

And then there is the OTHER side of playing together. The dark side. The sneaky side. The shared love that we all have for a good prank. This is, perhaps, the arena where we come alive as a family. Our sweet spot, if you will. Oh how we thrill to the classic toilet papering escapade. We can spend hours dreaming up ideas, imaging how much fun it would be to saran-wrap someone's front door, to leave a live goat tied to friend's car, or to serenade an unsuspecting stranger.

In fact, I think I knew I was going to marry David on the day he and two friends solemnly placed their hands over their hearts and began singing the Star Spangled Banner in three part harmony while waiting in line for lunch at college. I quickly noticed that their patriotic demonstration was due to the fact that they were standing behind a girl who had mistakenly worn red and white striped underwear underneath white linen slacks. "Oh say can you see?" Takes on a whole new meaning at a moment like that. I knew I was in love.

So given that kind of parentage, it shouldn't be any big surprise that earlier this week, when all the Junior High girls were spending the night at the principal's house, our boys felt the need to Carpe Diem, if you know what I mean. David and I believe that it is part of our parental duty to school our boys in the fine art of prank-pulling. To that end, we willingly aided and abetted them in their endeavor.

Lest you are concerned (as were some dear friends of mine) that we are contributing to the delinquency of minors, I can assure you that we do our best to ensure that no animals are harmed, no laws are broken, and no friendships are destroyed. We do have some standards, after all. Fun need not be a felony. In fact, it could provide a community service. Indeed, this prank surely did.

You know all those annoying signs that clutter medians, street corners, and embankments? We picked up a few of those. NO! Of course we weren't STEALING them. We had no intention of keeping them. We simply planned to REDISTRIBUTE them. To another part of town, or say, someone's lawn.

Just a few.

Okay 30.

And some spare school t-shirts and boxers.

Since we were BUSTED when we did it (the silly girls were sleeping--or should I say NOT sleeping--outside on the porch!) David and the boys went back the next morning to survey our handiwork. I think it is a thing of beauty.

Williamson Rules for Proper Sign Redistribution were followed. They include:

1. Never remove a sign from private property. For Sale signs are off limits.
2. We are an equal opportunity sign redistribution outfit. We do not discriminate based on political party, sign color, or quality of graphics.
3. If you have been "signed," good signing etiquette requires that you add to the collection and continue the redistribution process.
4. It is absolutely FORBIDDEN to commit redistribution retribution. (No backsies! Pay it forward)
5. ALL signing must be done in a spirit of love and mutual admiration. Don't sign angry.
6. Bonus points for funky yard art (Gnomes and Flamingos) and Avista Accessories.
7. Strict adherence to Colossians 3:23 "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart as working for the Lord, not for men."

P.S. We love you, Mrs. Bauer!

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Dear Libby,

I am not sure how to even begin this letter, dear friend. I have always been able to talk to you about anything and everything, but suddenly words escape me. Thankfully, you have also always been the one who understands my heart without me having to say a word. You are a good friend that way.

If I were looking out for my best interest, I would take you to France with me. I would crate you up and cart you over and coop you up in a tiny apartment so that I would not have to do without your faithful friendship, your eager companionship, and your lavish love. And you would probably handle every bit of it like the trooper that you are. But I just can't do that to you.

I want you to have a yard. I want you to be able to go to the bathroom without having to go down four flights of stairs and walking three blocks to the nearest park. Mostly, I want you to have a life more like the one you have now. You would adapt to life in France, I know you would. Yet I fear that you would be sacrificing too much for my benefit. Because that's just the way you are. You would do it for me, but I can't ask that of you.

So I have found a new home for you, beloved dog. A home where you will be cherished. A home where you will be a spoiled only child. A home with a yard and a promise that you will be loved. I made sure that you would be loved.

I know that you will be as good of a friend to Bethany as you have been to me. Make sure to be a lady and use all the manners that I taught you. And try to keep away from the chocolate. I know you like it, but it always makes you sick.

I will be forever grateful for our time together. You have been a better friend to me than I ever could have deserved. You love so unselfishly, you forgive so readily, you play so passionately, and you give so freely. You are a beautiful girl inside and out, and my life is so much richer for the joy of knowing you.

Thank you for being such a great dog. You will always be in my heart.

Love, Jenn

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Presenting....

CHANDLER as LONG JOHN SILVER!

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