On Blue's Clues

My little 3 year-old random Grace (I love double-meanings) has a new habit when we're riding in the minivan. She asks passionately for us to roll down her window low enough for her to see out (we have one of those new-fangled minivans that can do that), and then with the breeze blowing her hair she calls out in her loudest voice, "HELLO OUT THERE; IT'S ME, STEVE!"

For those of you young moms who only know the Blue's Clues of the new guy (I don't even remember his name), maybe you don't remember the good old days of Blue and Steve. But I have to confess that I loved that show when Steve was on it. And the new guy (I'm sure he's very nice) just doesn't cut it for me. So...

Grace doesn't even know there's a new guy. She only ever watches reruns (on video and DVD) of the good old days of Blue's Clues. Apparently she loves them as much as I do.

Whenever she yells out the window, I feel a little sad over a bygone era. I also think of my brother Paul (who Steve always reminded me of), and Emma, my 9 year old who sits next to Grace says, "That's what I'm calling her now then, Steve!"

Apparently, she doesn't quite get it.

In Memory of Ruth Bell Graham

I am entering the unknown world of blogging as one who usually enjoys writing but is technically challenged. Hope this marriage works. Many dear friends have encouraged me in this direction either directly or by pure inspiration as I read their great blogs -- Thanks, I think.

I was planning on adding just one more thing to my brief favorites list,

BUT

I couldn't because the Amazon link would take you to something that costs $87.00.

That made me feel guilty, so I didn't do it.

Ruth Bell Graham's Collected Poems is one of my all-time favorite books. I have often been moved to tears when nothing else could penetrate my force field, simply by letting Ruth Bell Graham's authenticity in. Her poems are

beautiful

and real.

Her struggles were gut-wrenching.

Her Hope is pure and unfailing.

I opened this beloved book for the first time in awhile tonight, and tears leaped into my eyes, because Ruth Bell Graham has gone home to her Hope. But I feel as though I've lost a friend.

And apparently this book of mine (which my mom bought for me) is now a treasure to the rest of the world too.

Here is one of her poems that seems fitting to share on my first post of Random Grace:

Show me a small

and shriveled seed,

discarded

as a worthless thing:

smile

if you will,

that I should kneel

in worship

-there'll be Spring!