Just a Glimpse

This is one of the views we see every day as we exit our neighborhood. Rice patties are filling up with water this time of year. I need to sit down and study the ins and outs of rice farming. It seems like muddy and messy work for sure. But the fields are so pretty.

More rice. These fields are around almost every corner.

Banana Trees... I think.

And our mountain in the background is just gorgeous.

To be sure, this country we have found ourselves in is beautiful. We are constantly discovering new flowers, lush fields, and even waterfalls.

Up here in the mountain region, waterfalls are easy to find.  Brian took the kids on a little before school starts back campout. I stayed home because they needed special time with their daddy (and it is already hot enough in my house in front of my fan, I like my comfy bed and the army of jungle bugs would have made dinner out of me). They had a blast, but the word is, no matter how far into the mountains you go, it is still hot and humid. This is why the nationals all looked at Brian like he was crazy for going camping this time of year. "Wait until December." they said. 

"Oh, we'll be fine." Brian said. He learned his lesson.

But there were waterfalls and swimming. Kate and Thomas had such a good time. I don't think our small people feel the suffering heat as much as we do. And with a view like that, I think it was worth the trip.

And discovering beautiful waterfalls and rice fields is only half the fun. The grocery store is always an adventure. I find something new every time I am in there. Like these little beauties. Candy? Nope. Cookies? Nope. Buffet Fish Balls? You betcha. Appetizing, right? Before you get too grossed out or judgey, just remember our dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets. We eat funny shaped meat in America, too.  

I will leave you with this picture of a worker on her break. After I pick Thomas up from school, I take a short cut down a narrow village road. And this is the sight I see. The people taking a break huddled under umbrellas or squatting in circles holding their bowls of rice (and maybe buffet fish balls). They are beautiful. And I love driving by, looking into their eyes and seeing them smile at me. They are fearfully and wonderfully made and so loved by their Creator. I pray that one day, I can tell them how very much they are loved. 

Until that day, I will pray. And thank my great God for every new view, every new face, every field being sown. He teaches me so much through every glimpse. His glory. It's shouting at us. It is truly an immense privilege to encounter and see God's wonderful creation in this part of the world. And...

 I am grateful.

Two Down and One at Home

This little 'stepped-straight-out-of-a-Tom-Sawyer-book' looking kid is now a kindergartner.

 And on his first day, there were no tears--not even from momma. Although I did have to fight them back at one point. While I will miss my wild man immensely when he is gone, we were all ready for this day to come.  He was so excited Sunday night that he proclaimed, "I'm going to wash all my body parts for school tomorrow." Sure this brought up other questions, but at least we know we sent him off to school clean. Bless us all.

Isaiah just couldn't begin to walk out the door without having his backpack too.

He stepped right out of a catalog. What is that dapper stance about? He's not supposed to be this studly yet. 

My little handsome man.

And this one is off to 2nd grade and couldn't be more excited. She's the "I love school, I love to learn, give me more homework" kid. Teachers may love her (maybe). Her friends may want to smack her for asking for more work.   

When did she get so big and start looking so much like a little lady. My beating heart!

This little fella followed behind his brother and sister wearing his big brother's flip-flops because that is not a battle worth fighting. He was ready to have his first day of school, too. Too bad he will have to wait several more years for that day. 

This picture did not come out like I wanted it to, but still... Those two and their love for each other.  They always look out for one another. I hope it stays like this forever.

This was the moment that got me. When they called the children to pray and my big boy bowed his head and closed his eyes, this momma about lost it because he is so big and because I didn't have to flick his ear to get him be quiet during prayer and because all of the my-baby-is-growing-up feels. 

Walking to his classroom. So brave.

My beauty.

And just like that, the first day was over, and we are almost finished with the second day. We are so thankful for the awesome school that they get to attend here. It is so beyond fantastic. And their teachers who volunteered to be here in a foreign country... who raised their own support so they could serve our children... That's pretty heroic in my book. So pray for those precious teachers because well, obviously, teachers need prayer. But teachers living and teaching in a foreign country need ALL. the. prayer!!! We will certainly thank our great God upon every remembrance of them, even over homework folders. 

No Matter How Small

I had a dream last night. In my dream, we were in the states meeting family for lunch, and planes were literally falling from the sky. It was said that politicians had turned off air-traffic control because they could, we guessed. Brian and I were appalled. People were dying right before our very eyes, and no one in the restaurant seemed to care. They all knew it was happening, but most said, 

“We can't really do anything about it.” 

“Eh, politics.” 

“I don't know anyone flying today, so it doesn't affect me or my family.”

“It's too hard to look at. I'm just here for lunch” 

Their responses went on, and Brian and I were out of our mind frustrated at the response. I normally don't remember my dreams, but this one is as vivid as the blue colored sky. I could apply it to various areas of my heart aches right now, but how perfectly does it fit into this ongoing 40 year old battle for the life of babies?! 

We can't just call it politics and look away. We must look it square in the face even though it hurts our hearts and makes us ache. It does affect you. And we can do something about it. We must! 

One of my heroes, Corrie Ten Boom, helped Jews escape from concentration camps in Nazi Germany. She ended up becoming a prisoner in one of those very camps. She lost almost her entire family to this evil. She suffered immensely. She and her family certainly knew the cost when they started hiding Jews in a secret wall of their home. They knew they could be caught, imprisoned, killed. They didn't turn their face away from what was happening, and they could have easily ignored it because they weren't Jewish. It didn't affect them. Instead they engaged in the fight head on. They showed love that has courage, strength, and sacrifice. 

We can engage in this fight, this holocaust, in love with courage and strength. Love DOES. And so I am promising to do something more than just shake my head and say America's going to pot. A couple of years ago I wrote THIS, but it needs so much more. So, here are some of my thoughts and action steps:

1. Women, I love you. I am one of you. We are strong. We are intelligent, capable, fierce. We love hard. We go for our goals. Some of us are genius scientists, some CEOs of Fortune 500 companies. Some of us are phenomenal, world altering cooks. We can lead conference meetings, change diapers while reading to a two year old, write novels and teach children. We can manage a home like a boss. We can fight in wars and work construction. We are amazing. And we need to stay healthy, but allowing for abortions to remain legal in our country does not keep us safe and healthy. We might think it makes us happy, but cutting a life out of your body will not make you happier. More successful, maybe? More in tune with your own desires? But happier and healthier is just a lie you have been fed. You are smart. Intelligent. Do some research. Ask some questions. Dig deeper. Don't turn your eyes away for the sake of “women's health.” And yes, think about women's health. But think about all the little baby girls who could have been amazing successful women if only it hadn't been an inconvenience to the women carrying them. Yes, those little girls matter too. 

2. To those of you who mourned Cecil, the beloved lion. You are precious. Do not read that as sarcasm. I mean it. It is good to care about Cecil. It is good to care about animals. I, myself, am not the biggest lover of animals. I'm not even really a pet person, but bless those beautiful, amazing, hairy or scaly or jumpy little creatures. And bless those of you who love them so much that you cry big elephant tears when they are hurt. You are kind and merciful. And because I believe you are kind, I am asking you to, just for a minute or two, consider the babies, the human ones, too. They matter like Cecil matters. All life matters. Little, big, hairy or covered in skin. But let me add this: humans, these little babies, they are different than Cecil because they are made in the image of God, and the Bible says they are being knit together in their mother's womb by that very God. I realize that some of you don't believe that either, but it doesn't make it any less true and it doesn't make that baby that our country is deeming a product for research any less precious. Let's fight to protect it, each one. Let's cry big fat elephant tears over every one lost. Let's mourn that they were brutalized and destroyed. Let's honor each one like we would honor any life.

3. There are people fighting the fight in real ways. You can fight with them.

• First Choice Pregnancy Solutions  and pregnancy care centers all across the country are fighting to care for women who are in need of good health care, who don't have the resources to financially support a child, who were abused, or who have been abandoned by the father. They are fighting for the women by offering practical support, ultrasounds, counseling, adoption resources, groceries, even baby showers. Good, loving, sacrificial things are happening within and without of the walls of these centers. Women are feeling valued, cared for, loved. And they are choosing life because they are given practical ways in which they can. Women are hearing heart beats and falling in love with life. Give of your money, time and talents to support these great places. Life transforming, good things are happening here. It would be worth your investment. Google it and find one in your area.
• Loving amazing people who are willing to adopt children, including those with Downs or other handicaps, are raising money to take sweet babies home. This is a big part of the fight. If we truly value life, we must offer our lives, our home, our family to one (or many) of these sweet babies who need a family. Sign up for a foster class in your state. Host one in your church. Look into adoption agencies. Pray. And if you can't adopt, give to someone who can, like this lady and her husband who already have five and are bringing home number six in the near future. LOVE!
• We also need to offer our lives, our home, our family to that brave girl who chose life but may have lost everything in the process. Church, you need to get this better. Get involved in your local pregnancy care center. Volunteer to help these women. Give them a bed to sleep in. Help pay the rent on their apartment. There are real ways you can help these ladies. We must.
• And that teenage girl who got pregnant out of wedlock from your church's youth group. Love the mess out of her. Don't ever, for even a split second, let her feel judged, shunned or alone. 
• And that girl who chose abortion, let her know you love her wildly. Take her for coffee, invite her into your home, make her up a bed if she got kicked out of her house for making this decision. Walk with her, listen to her, laugh with her. Love her. Because y'all Jesus loved you and me and our hearts were fiercely dark and full of sin, but God.... Be her grace-stepped-in person. Point her to the lover of her soul. And love her deeply and genuinely—no strings attached.
• Call your senators. Yes, you can do that. They supposedly work for us, right? Let them know, kindly, what you think about Planned Parenthood and that you thoroughly dislike your tax dollars going to support it. It's time it stops. We can do better at offering women good health options while not killing babies. And after the last 24 hours, it is clear we are going to have to be loud to make our voices heard. Money speaks louder than morals, and most of us aren't rolling in the dough like Planned Parenthood. So y'all pray for them to be haunted by the decisions they are making (or not making) in the name of freedom. 

4. Take this seriously. Read THIS and tell me they aren't babies we are killing?! These are babies. I carried four in my womb, and three to term, and I know they are as real and as human as I am sitting here right now. Fight for them like you would your own child. Fight for them harder than you would a lion or sea turtles. Because “a person is a person no matter how small.”

Y'all really, I know this fb trend of videos and articles will blow over. We will stop looking at it and thinking about it every day. Some of you already have because it is too heavy. We will go back to our day-to-day and forget that somewhere there is a young woman who thinks this is her only option, somewhere there is a baby being torn to pieces because of science or convenience or career or college. So please, please don't look away. We can fight in a loving way. We can hold the hands of scared women. We can pray. We can have good, productive conversations on the issue. But we can't look away and say it isn't our issue. 

It's heavy. I don't like the weight and I can't bear it. But somebody must because these are babies, little tiny humans who barely weigh anything, and their lives are worth the weight of my time, my energy, my prayers, my fight. I can't look away when planes are falling from the sky in my dream and I won't look away now. It's been said on the social media world, and I will say it again, “This is our Wilberforce moment.” And as he, the abolitionist, said, 

“You may choose to look away, but you may never again say that you did not know.”

Summer Travel and Rainy Season

It's rainy season here in our neck of the woods. Of three seasons, hotter, hottest, and humid, this humid rainy season may be my favorite. I hear rainy season can just be humid and muggy, but so far, I am loving it. My hair is officially out of control. I am basically sporting a mane, but who cares, it's raining, and I'm singing (wait for it) in the rain, not having to run our tiny air conditioning to its breaking point, and overall, we are all in a better mood.  I even took up that old forgotten activity of walking outside again.

This summer has been over-the-top busy, but oh so good. A trip to the states was necessary for my heart. Precious loved one with health issues needed a hug, and it was worth every penny and every minute on a plane with three small ones by myself to fly all that way to give a hug. And in three weeks, we got in a lot of hugs. It was wonderful. I love our family, and I am so thankful I was able to see them this summer. The kids did magnificently on the plane, and while we missed their daddy, who was here doing what he does, we had a blast and wouldn't trade it for anything.

Granna Hug

Poppa Hug

Momma Hug

Grandma Hug

Grandpa Hug

Cousin Hug (minus a few)

Boys don't hug. Those faces!

There was VBS (Thailand themed, no less), amazing cheeseburgers, steaks, homemade ice cream, weight gain, boat rides and fire pits for the kids, not to mention being spoiled rotten by all of their grandparents, and there was even...

a bathtub. It's the little things.

 After coming back from the states, we were home for 36 hours before we boarded another plane to south Thailand for some meetings.  It was so fun, albeit exhausting.

The kids did better than I did getting over jet lag in a hotel with meetings to attend. 

They are amazing. They got to do a VBS with some awesome volunteers from the states, and swim in the Gulf of Thailand. 

Isaiah tried the sand in Thailand. He wasn't impressed. 

We came home for a week and then boarded yet another plane for another set of meetings on the other side of the Gulf of Thailand. It was a lovely week where we got to learn more about what is happening in this part of the world and how we can be a part of it.

The kids got to do, yet another, VBS, and as you can see from that face, they were beyond enthused. Really, we are so thankful for volunteers who would spend their vacation time and hard earned money to come all this way to keep our kids so we can have a meeting where mommas can participate too. And our kids had a blast!!! 

There was even water polo with a bunch of Germans, Brits and Americans at a hotel in Thailand. This is our crazy life.

Song Teew ridin' to the airport. 

By the end of the summer, the kids and I will have flown on 10 planes putting our total for the year, so far, at 13. Crazy! Good thing the kiddos are good travelers. 

Thailand's so bright, you gotta wear shades. Too bad we didn't have any for this picture.

Now we are home, watching it rain, and counting down the days until school starts back, when I will send my Thomas to kindergarten. (Weeping and Gnashing.) We are oh so thankful for this summer full of family, beaches, safe travel, and good, rich meetings.

Refining Through Culture Shock

There is a little thing that we expats all know about. If you have lived in a foreign country for any amount of time, you know all about it.  It's our thing. We own it. We claim it. We yell it out when we are having a awful day. We use it as a crutch when we have been really mean to someone who lives in our home or helps clean our toilets. It's culture shock! And somehow we can't seem to explain it to volunteer teams, people visiting for two weeks or the people we reunite with in the states.  They couldn't understand if they tried. There is a possibility that that time they went on a trip to Mexico for two weeks, they had a slight bit of culture shock. Sure, confronted with the fact that we as an American people are grossly independent and wildly materialistic will smack anyone in the face during their two weeks in the slums of a foreign country, but I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about how the days drag on, language class is producing in you nothing but a babbling two year old, you can't figure out why the people on the mopeds seem to have a death threat and why on earth they don't just drive on the sidewalk, and for the life of you, you can't figure out what that awful smell is that meets you every single time you walk into the grocery store. You don't like picking up hand-fulls of meat and shoving it into a bag. And for the love, why is it so doggone hot?! And the people that you should understand and relate to the most, your fellow expats, well, some days you just think they are weird, and while you truly want to understand them and live in fellowship with them, it is a battle. Yes, I am probably being too candid here, but I guarantee if you put a group of us all on a panel and made us drink truth juice, we would all say the same thing about what is going on during culture shock.

Culture shock. We use it to justify all of our junk those first few months and even year of overseas living! We don't feel worthy of what we are being asked to do. We feel completely, overwhelmingly inadequate. We can't share Jesus. We can barely say 'How are you?' without accidentally offending someone. We are being radically stripped of everything we held on to. We thought that the 'emptying of self' was over when we gave away most of our belongings and said heart-wrenching goodbyes to people that we love dearly. Turns out, that was only the beginning. We got gut-punched, again, about two weeks after we got off the plane and realized this is our new reality and we are just not built for this life.

So then we try and fix it. We throw ourselves into activities that we think we can control, and then reality hits again, and we are faced with the fact that we can't control anything. Nothing! Every single thing that we held onto is pried from our dying hands.

Yep, I said dying. Dramatic? Perhaps. Reality? Maybe. Because if we have not completely and totally died to self and surrendered every solitary thing, it will be stripped away for us. We call this culture shock. It's lovely really. I can't hold on to or boast in anything. This out-of-control-ness produces different things in different people depending on the day. Somedays it makes me want to cry all day (which then produces a wretched migraine). Somedays it produces anger. I'm talking rage, and I really just need to punch something. It produces loneliness and self-insecurities that you didn't know were there. And you realize how very much you suck (sorry dad, but that's really the only appropriate word). You are the noble person who committed her life to proclaiming good news and love and hope to a lost world, and you can barely manage to get dinner on the table without crying because you can't figure out your tiny oven or you had a moment of thinking about how amazing your mom's chicken pot pie is and you don't know when you will get to eat it again.

You experience loss and pain over and over again. It's full on war against your heart and mind.  It's war on your family and every other relationship in your life. And we call it culture shock.

But God. I think what we call culture shock, He calls refining. He uses these first months in a new country and in a new place for His glory, because He makes all things good, even beautiful. He keeps showing me over and over, so kindly and patiently, that all these horrible things that are bursting out of me lately are really just the sin that I had in me all along. Sin that I was able to cover up a little easier when I could hold things in my hands. Sin that I so easily covered up when I was living in a place that had become comfortable and easy.  He has been bringing me to repentance, showing me the ugly so that I can confess it and He can cleanse it. He's been reminding me daily that the same gospel that saved me, sustains me every day. And I find that if I don't constantly preach the gospel to myself, I am a wreck, and I will wreck others with the excuse of "culture shock."

So that's me right now, totally completely uncomfortably honest with whoever is reading this. I'm a mess. I was a mess before, but I have no strength or capacity to cover it up now. It's out there for the world (and my poor children) to see.  I am that wretch. I need Jesus. Oh! I need Jesus!!!  Because without Him I just can't do this life! I just can't. Good news, He has overcome the world, even this really hot and humid one. He is for me. In me. Working in ways I can't see and moving mountains in me to make me look more like Himself. He is refining me in the fire. And it took moving me to SE Asia to do it. He goes to wild and crazy lengths to get our attention and to show us how deeply He loves us.  He is faithful and kind. And I need all of that, all of Him, even more than I ever knew.


There are things we can do to get through our little bouts of culture shock. A few things that I used to recommend those who joined our team to do and things I am trying to do now:

1. Embrace the Constant. With all the change, embrace the One who hasn't changed, ever! Our Lord is constant, steady, sure. We can run into him. Stay in His Word. You can't get by with out it! Dig into Jesus. Listen to sermons when you don't have the focus to read on your own. Turn on worship music. Put scripture verses all over your new home.  Remember that our Lord knows our pain. He has walked a mile in our shoes and can sympathize with us in every pain. Because of His great love for us, He left his home to pursue us, to die for us, to save us. He was misunderstood, mocked, hated and even murdered. But because he overcame when he conquered the grave, we can and will too.

2. Be thankful.  Make a list of at least 10 things you can be thankful for in your new homeland. Write it down and on the really hard days, look back at it and even add to it.

3. If there are expats in your town or your country, try and get together with them every once and awhile. You may find they have gone through, or are going through, the same struggle you are and can help you walk through it. If nothing else, maybe they can be a sounding board. Someone who finally understands you.

4. Get some perspective. On the days when it seems like there is no light at the end of the tunnel, and you just can't remember why you moved your family to this new place, get out! Go walk around your neighborhood and just take in the faces of those you now live among. Go visit one of their spiritual buildings and just let your heart be open and softened. Pray that the Lord will give you more compassion for those around you than concern for your own comforts.

5. Exercise. Sweat it out.

6. Make sure you are getting enough sleep. You will be more exhausted than you were in your homeland. By 3 PM, you will feel completely and totally drained. With the language learning and all. the. new. your brain is on overload. You need to rest. It's ok.

This is not a comprehensive list, but it's a start. Most of all, see number one.

All of this is just a reminder for me. "Culture shock" is normal, completely common, but it doesn't have to break me. The Lord is faithful. He will sustain me and my family through this time. His strength is made perfect in our weakness. He is sharpening me, growing me, refining me. He is making me look more like Himself, and He is lovely. The process is painful, but the product is pure and beautiful.

Every Nation, Tribe and Tongue

One of my favorite things in the whole world is being able to worship with people from all over the world. I have had the immense privilege of being able to worship with many different peoples in many different languages. From Spanish, to Macedonian, different African languages to Thai. It's amazing and beautiful to hear God's people from all over the world singing their songs to him, the one who has saved us and made us His own. Some of my favorite memories have been joining with other believers, my brothers and sisters as we sing old classics like “I Surrender All” and "How Great Thou Art" and newer songs like "Our God is Greater" in their native tongue. There's a magic in the moment. One that can't be explained. But it's power. This is what we were made to do. People from every nation and tribe and tongue gathered together in one voice with one heart declaring the glory of the Lord. It's sweet music to His hears.

I remember the first time I stood in a Macedonian church in the capital city and heard the sounds of praise ring from the lips of Macedonians. I didn't know the words in Macedonian yet. I couldn't sing along. But that didn't stop me from worshipping as I reflected on the goodness of God that spans languages, continents, oceans and even musical preferences. Tears filled my eyes, and I stood silent just taking in the sound of God's children worshipping in their own tongue. Beautiful doesn't begin to describe it. I will never forget that moment.

And the moment that I sat in my living room in the town we served and heard, for the first time, people from that city worshipping their Creator, tears filled my eyes. It was a moment that I had longed for and prayed for. It was powerful. Beautiful. 

Here in this new country where though I might know the tune, I don't understand all the words, I can only sit and listen (and whisper the words in English). And as I listen to about 20 of my Thai brothers and sisters in Christ worship the one who has saved us, my eyes fill with tears. It is powerful. Beautiful. It makes me long for heaven when we together with our Macedonian, Thai, American, Indian, Kenyan, Ugandan, Czech, Bulgarian, Russian, …, brothers and sisters will gather together around the throne of the Lamb in worship. We will all sing the same song in a loud voice as we stand in awe of His greatness and glory. And it will be beautiful. Powerful! 

"And when he had taken the scroll, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb, each holding a harp, and golden bowls full of incense, which are the prayers of the saints. And they sang a new song, saying, 

“Worthy are you to take the scroll and to open its seals, for you were slain, and by your blood you ransomed people for God from every tribe and language and people and nation,and you have made them a kingdom and priests to our God, and they shall reign on the earth.” 

Then I looked, and I heard around the throne and the living creatures and the elders the voice of many angels, numbering myriads of myriads and thousands of thousands, saying with a loud voice, 

“Worthy is the Lamb who was slain,to receive power and wealth and wisdom and mightand honor and glory and blessing!” 

And I heard every creature in heaven and on earth and under the earth and in the sea, and all that is in them, saying, 

“To him who sits on the throne and to the Lamb be blessing and honor and glory and might forever and ever!”

And the four living creatures said, “Amen!” and the elders fell down and worshiped."

Revelation  5:8-14 ESV

Fun Things Around Town

Out here in the wild wild heat, there are a ton of fun things to do. Here's a look into the last few weeks and how we take HOT, hard, HOT, stressful, and HOT days and still manage to have some fun moments.  

Giant milky fruit smoothies at the open market. These things are my favorite. 

Selfies in daddy's hats. These boys make me swoon.

Stirring boiling elephant poo to turn into elephant poo paper. 

This really needs no caption.

And then, finishing the elephant poo paper process.  

There's bowling.  That may have ended with a certain 7 year old weeping because she only scored like a 27, but, every one else was all smiles. And there was AC. WOOT!

We explored an insect farm. I didn't even know that was a thing, and I certainly didn't think it would be all that interesting. Turns out, I was wrong.

Kate is a bug lover. She held every bug they would let her hold except for the giant 10 inch long centipede and the scorpion. Who can really blame her on that one?!

We learned about all of the edible insects of SE Asia. Yum.  Notice I said learned, not tasted.

We found the ice skating rink and enjoyed a floor made of ice in an air-conditioned room. YES! 

Kate represented our beloved Macedonia at her school's international day. She was so excited.  

Golf with a new friend, our neighbor. He's a sweetie and he and Thomas share a love for the game.

More selfies

Our family out on the course with some new friends.

Swimming!!!  It's the best!

And when you're stuck inside all morning because it's already 95 degrees at 8 'o clock in the morning, why not color your face.  This was not a mommy-approved activity, but I couldn't get too mad. I mean, that face!

There have most definitely been some hard days. I have been every ugly version of myself the last 2 months, and I have had to fight to be any kind of fun or even nice. But God... I am so thankful for the sweet, fun, exciting moments when He has whispered or even shouted, "I love you!" as he has lavished life and breath and every necessary thing on us. He has lavished grace on us. He has reminded me of how very much I need Him, of how very worthless and crappy and dead I am without Him. He has reminded me that He has made me alive and that He is my life.

He has carried us through every single day. He even gave me a little boy with purple lips and a red face to remind me to laugh a little more and stress a little less. And I am reminded as I look through all of these pictures and so many more (that I didn't post for fear of boring you) that He is good in every moment, good or bad, even when it's 110 degrees. Even then...

 I'm so thankful to be His!