Have yourself a Merry Little Christmas...

For to us a child is born,
    to us a son is given,
    and the government will be on his shoulders.
And he will be called
    Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
    Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Isaiah 9:6

It's me...Tolin!

Colin has a hard time pronouncing C's and K's.

He usually replaces his C's with a T. 

Cookies turn into Tooties.

Captain America becomes Tata Amerita.

Sometimes he just skips the whole sound altogether. Jack turns into Jaaa.

But my favorite is when he introduces himself. "I'm Tolin!" he will announce.

One of his favorite things to do is to dress up as random superheros. We have various masks and Colin will put on one, run out to me, strike a pose and wait. I must talk to the superhero by name. "Hello, Spiderman. How are you today?"  Colin will than rip the mask off, laugh and say "It's me...Tolin!" It is a fun game. The Incredible Hulk, Captain America, Thor and Iron Man usually show up, but before I am too confused, Colin let's me know all is well...it is just him, Tolin.

  I am not sure how long his little lisp will last, but I love every minute of it. There is something about the sound of little voices figuring out their thoughts and turning them into words that I adore.

I am just happy to know that I am well protected, whether it is by Thor or by "Tolin".

In Memory...

Today my husband is going to an elementary school. He is going to walk into the doors, say hello to the security guard, get his badge at the office and walk to the lunch room. He will sit down with a class of first graders. He is there for Jaqwan. A 6 year old, first grade boy. Ryan is his mentor.
Those first graders love when Ryan comes in and eats lunch with them. While he only works with Jaqwan, Ryan makes sure to talk with all the little guys around him. They are a lively group. Because that is what first graders are full of. Life.

Newtown, Connecticut had that life horrifically crushed out. Evil beyond comprehension. Pure, absolute evil. The loss of life is tragic any time. The loss of a child's life is unthinkable, unimaginable and so deeply wrong.

It renders me speechless.

I mourn for those that lost loved ones on Friday. I mourn for the loss of innocence that the children in that school had robbed from them. I mourn for the brokenhearted. I mourn for the parents who's baby did not come home.

I mourn and I pray.

I pray for peace. I pray for comfort. I pray for loving arms to hold them tight. I pray for gentle words to soothe aching souls. I pray for supernatural peace and comfort that man can not give.

Today, I pray.

Psalms 147:3 ~ " He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds."

So instead of posting pictures and stories of my boys like I had planned today, I am going to just ask you to pray.

When I was in college, the male R.A of my brother floor lost all three of his sisters one day before his wedding. They were bridesmaids, on their way to a shower. They were all killed in a car accident.  It was unthinkable. They were all in high school, vibrant and oh, so beautiful.

I was reading my bible, struggling to understand and grieving for the entire family, when I stumbled across this passage. It became my prayer that day and now, it is my prayer today. While looking up Ephesian 3:14-19 in the NIV, I paralleled it with the Message translations. I like the ease of modern language of The Message.

So, here is my prayer.

Ephesian 3:14-21 ( The Message translation)

^14-19 My response is to get down on my knees before the Father, this magnificent Father who parcels out all heaven and earth. I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit—not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength—that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you’ll be able to take in with all followers of Jesus the extravagant dimensions of Christ’s love. Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God.

^20-21 God can do anything, you know—far more than you could ever imagine or guess or request in your wildest dreams! He does it not by pushing us around but by working within us, his Spirit deeply and gently within us.

Brotherly Love

Brothers. The fighting. The playing. The punching. The hugging. It's a whole new world for me. I have one brother and one sister. The dynamic is so different. Two brothers, two years apart. They are constantly together, with tears and laughter flowing. My Husband has a brother that is two years older than him. He gets the dynamics between these two. He is wise and tells me to just let them be, fight it out and move on. Normally, they do. Sometimes, I intervene when the playing gets too rough and the little one can't keep up. Sometimes the smaller one takes out the bigger one.  Laughter.Tears. Hugs. Time outs. They all seem to follow one another.

But sometimes, I catch them being so perfectly loving. Imaginary play that makes me smile. The older one helping the younger one understand a certain concept. Random hugs and tickles.

This time I caught them and got my camera in time. Colin had been sick earlier in the week. He was not up to running full steam and Jack was getting cabin fever. I was busy running around, getting ready to leave and walked in to this little scene. Little brother Colin resting his tired head on his brother's back, arm around his waist. Jack did not push him off or get annoyed that he was being laid on. They laid like this for awhile, watching PBS kids and just being next to each other.

I am so happy that they will always have each other. They will always be brothers.