Miscellany Monday

Punch Dub!

The girls have been playing Punch Dub in the minivan lately. The sweet friend who takes them to BSF taught them the game, but she taught them to punch their own hand and not each other, for which I am thankful. They thoroughly enjoy "collecting" cars and colors and they have added PT Cruisers and Smart cars to the mix. So while driving I will often hear Meadow yell, "Crunch Dub," as opposed to Punch Dub ( I had to google it because I could have sworn I grew up saying "Slug Bug" or "Punch Bug" and I was right, Volkswagen changed it to Dub recently). Saige is good at counting them up and they'll play this game for awhile, so I get to enjoy my music while we're in the van. It's definitely a win-win.

Police Cars

While driving to church last night, a police car came speeding by with its lights on. The girls all yelled and wanted to know what that was about. Meadow said, "Mommy, did you see that? We need to buy one of those!" I asked, "What, the lights?" She said, "No, the car because it went fast, fast, fast! It went SUPER fast! I want to buy one!" O, Lord, help me now. 

Saige explained to Meadow that the police officer was going fast to give someone a ticket. And if they have to give you another ticket, they'll take you to jail. She said, "Jail is not a good place, because there are no toys in jail." Is that not the most apt description of the first born and the second born — the rule follower and the rule breaker? 

Ode to the Fitted Sheet

O, fitted sheet, why do you torment me so?
You taunt me with your corners,
You mock me with your nonconformist ways.
Sometimes I leave you in the dryer,
Just so I don't have to deal with the misfit that you are.

It's not all about you, you know.

Other things do take precedence,

Like walking the dog and washing my hair.

And so in a jam, I will wad you up in a ball

And place you under the smooth, polished top sheet

All to hide your dissenting flaws.

From whom I wonder?

Is there a closet fairy who judges my shelves,

Taking note of the unkempt linens and the mismatched towels?

O, fitted sheet, you will torture me no more;

I am free of your affliction.

No longer will I heed your imaginary rules.

If I were a bit more prim, I might actually care,

But c'est la vie, arrivederci, au revoir.

O, pestering fitted sheet,

I will do what I want with you

You are not the boss of me.

~cheryl~

   

A Poem on Palm Sunday

This poem was on the Desiring God blog today and since it is Palm Sunday, I thought it was a perfect poem to reflect on at the start of Holy Week.

How awesome is that day to me-
O day of hallowed history!
Set time in God’s determined plan
To sacrifice the Son of Man.
What famous work that day was done
By Jesus Christ, His Perfect Son!
The Second Adam, sent to save,
Humbly obeying to the grave!

How savage is that day to me-
O day of pure brutality!
When Christ, the Son of God Most High,
Was fiercely whipped and hung to die.
And O the horror of my sin,
Seen there in His appalling skin!
For God struck down- as meant for me-
The sinless One, at Calvary.

How precious is that day to me-
O day of purchased liberty!
In Him, a freeman now I live;
My sins, through death, did God forgive.
No wrath at length looms o’er my head,
But lovingkindness there instead.
His righteousness, my guilt replaced,
And Love, this ransomed soul embraced!

O awesome, savage, precious day-
‘Tis God the Savior on display!
What peerless, holy, gracious Mind
Would fashion such a Grand Design?

Written by Kevin Hartnett who was selected in 2003 from a thousand candidates as the “Poet of the Year” by the Fellowship of Christian Poets.


How are you preparing for Resurrection Sunday?


~cheryl~