Buttprints in the Sand

One night I had a wondrous dream
One set of footprints there was seen
The footprints of my precious Lord
But mind were not along the shore

But then some stranger prints appeared
And I asked the Lord, “What have we here?”
Those prints are large and round and neat
But Lord, they are too big for feet

My child he said in somber tones
For miles I carried you alone
I challenged you to walk in faith
But you refused and made me wait

You disobeyed and would not grow
The walk of faith you would not know
So I got tired…I got fed up
And there I dropped you on your butt

Because in life there comes a time
When one must fight and one must climb
When one must rise and take a stand
Or leave their buttprints in the sand


Butt Art

Somehow–not sure how–Tristen talked Haydn and Ansa into getting their bottoms tattooed. Ansa asked mom the other night to “Guess what?” Lucia said, what. Ansa was already turned around.

Ansa pulled her pants down and had “I love you” written across her bottom. Haydn had the same.

They were so encouraged by their new venture. I think this could take off (no pun intended). We chose not to make a big deal out of this one. Like most things, this too will pass. I hope.

It’s all on the 25th Floor

We are in St. Louis attending a counseling conference. It is late and we’ve just finished a long day. We’re in the elevator heading to our room. There was a guy, who was a bit “tight” after an evening of alcohol consumption, also on the elevator. I don’t think he was at our conference. He was a nice drunk, very accommodating. He was polite and conversant, very conversant. 

He told a couple, who happen to be at the conference and just stepped onto the elevator, that if they were interested in some alcoholic beverages they could find them on the 25th floor. And, he continued, if they wanted to do some evangelistic work they could also find that on the 25th floor as well.

It struck me as humorous as well as insightful.

She’s Too Fat!!

We were at Century Park last night to give the kids some “run around time” after a day in the house. Sometimes they can get a little stir-crazy and it serves us all to get out and let them run. Century Park is one of those wooden fort, swing, see-saw, castle, sliding board, sand and more kind of things with seemingly endless steps, tunnels, fire poles, escape routes all in a logical, labyrinthical, maze.

The kids love it.

And per usual when they go to a place like this they typically make “new” best friends for a day and they talk and play together. Last night they hooked up with a few new friends and were playing a “catch-me-if-you-can” kind of game. There were the chasers and those being chased.

Haydn had teamed up with a couple of his new friends and they were chasing (or escaping, I don’t remember) from Tristen and her horde. At some point Haydn was trying to help a 7-something-year-old girl up through a “hatch” kind of thing into freedom.

Tristen was hollering at Haydn to pull her on to freedom. Haydn was obviously struggling under the weight of it all. He is four and she was more, much more.

Finally, under the strain of frustration and a growing reality that he didn’t have what it took to pull her “over the top” he yelled at Tristen…

I can’t, she’s too fat!!

Lucia pretended not to know him anymore. When she told me I couldn’t stop laughing.

Man’s Best Friend Test

A dog is truly a man’s best friend. If you don’t believe it, just try this experiment:

Put your dog and your wife in the trunk of the car for an hour. When you open the trunk, which one is still really happy to see you?

Though you might not believe this I did put my wife in a trunk once upon a time when we were dating and drove her to Buger King to get a milkshake. When we got back home to her parent’s home I opened the trunk and she was happy to see me. She’s my best friend!!