Sunday, October 21, 2007

99 Balloons

This is the most touching tribute to the life of a child I've ever seen.

The love & adoration these parents bestowed upon this child on a DAILY basis is beyond inspiring.
I'm so grateful I came across it. The example of faith these parents displayed surrounding the birth of their little boy amazes me. They continually recognized God's grace even in their circumstances, which would have been a test of faith to many.

Please watch this video with Kleenex in hand & leave a comment for the parents at their site: 99 Balloons, or go to Igniter Media Group.

And the video of the funeral celebration for little Eliot Mooney again inspires me, by the looks of joy in the faces of Matt & Ginny Mooney as they celebrated the continued life of their son, afliction-free, in the arms of his Saviour!

God gives. God takes.
God's name be ever blessed.
~ Job 1:21

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Music Box

I absolutely ADORE this song by Regina Spektor! I first heard it on a recent JC Penney commercial & HAD to know who it was. At first I though it might be Bjork, because you have to admit, there are similarities... Listen for yourself & let me know what you think...


Life inside the music box ain't easy
The mallets hit
The gears are always turning
And everyone inside the mechanism
Is yearning to get out
And sing another melody completely
So different from the one they're always singing
I close my eyes and think that I have found me
But then I feel mortality surround me
I want to sing another melody
So different from the one I always sing
But when I do the dishes
I run the water very very very hot
And then I fill the sink to the top with bubbles of soap
And then I set all the bottle caps I own afloat
And it's the greatest voyage in the history of plastic
And then I slip my hands in and start to make waves
And then I dip my tongue in and take a taste
It tastes like soap but it doesn't really taste like soap
And then I lower in my whole mouth and take a gulp
And start to feel mortality surround me
I close my eyes and think that I have found me
But life inside the musicbox ain't easy
The mallets hit
The gears are always turning
And every one inside the mechanism
Is yearning to get out
And sing another melody completely
Is yearning to get out
Is yearning to get out
Is yearning to get out

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Thursday, October 11, 2007

PhotoHunt: Smelly!

Hey! I didn't pick the theme... But I sure did have the photos! These are my friends' (the Tooleys) bullies, giving me some awesome PhotoHunt inspiration! Thanks Tug & Sophie!!! I'll visit again soon...

I don't actually go looking for dogs doing their business to shoot photos of... It just happens sometimes! This is another friend's bullie, Ebenezer, wishin' he had some privacy.

A photo of my Roo as a pup. She had a little diarrhea... Hence, the Pepto pout! You'll note I have a lot on me too. But, it did the trick! :)

Okay, okay! Enough already! This week's theme was fun to do... And I'm done! Teehee

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Sunday, October 07, 2007

The Old Phone

This little tale was sent to me by my cousin, Kathy. With all the "forwards" out there on the internet, I'd not heard (or read) this one before. I don't know where they originate from, & it's very hard to know whether they are fact or fiction. However, this one I found very touching & sweet, so I thought I'd share... I hope you're blessed by it, as I was...

When I was quite young, my father had one of the first telephones in our neighborhood. I remember the polished, old case fastened to the wall. The shiny receiver hung on the side of the box. I was too little to reach the telephone, but used to listen with fascination when my mother talked to it.

Then I discovered that somewhere inside the wonderful device lived an amazing person. Her name was 'Information Please' and there was nothing she did not know. Information Please could supply anyone's number and the correct time.

My personal experience with the genie-in-a-bottle came one day while my mother was visiting a neighbor. Amusing myself at the tool bench in the basement, I whacked my finger with a hammer. The pain was terrible, but there seemed no point in crying because there was no one home to give sympathy.

I walked around the house sucking my throbbing finger, finally arriving at the stairway. The telephone! Quickly, I ran for the footstool in the parlor and dragged it to the landing. Climbing up, I unhooked the receiver in the parlor and held it to my ear. 'Information, please' I said into the mouthpiece just above my head. A click or two and a small clear voice spoke into my ear.


'I hurt my finger...' I wailed into the phone, the tears came readily enough now that I had an audience.

'Isn't your mother home?' came the question.

'Nobody's home but me,' I blubbered.

'Are you bleeding?' the voice asked.

'No,' I replied. 'I hit my finger with the hammer and it hurts.'

'Can you open the icebox?' she asked.

I said I could.

'Then chip off a little bit of ice and hold it to your finger,' said the voice.

After that, I called 'Information Please' for everything. I asked her for help with my geography, and she told me where Philadelphia was. She helped me with my math. She told me my pet chipmunk, that I had caught in the park just the day before, would eat fruit and nuts.

Then, there was the time Petey, our pet canary, died. I called 'Information Please' and told her the sad story. She listened, and then said things grown-ups say to soothe a child. But I was not consoled. I asked her, 'Why is it that birds should sing so beautifully and bring joy to all families, only to end up as a heap of feathers on the bottom of a cage?'

She must have sensed my deep concern, for she said quietly, 'Wayne, always remember that there are other worlds to sing in.'

Somehow I felt better.

Another day I was on the telephone and called, 'Information Please.'

'Information,' said in the now familiar voice.

'How do I spell fix?' I asked.

All this took place in a small town in the Pacific Northwest. When I was nine years old, we moved across the country to Boston. I missed my friend very much. 'Information Please' belonged in that old wooden box back home and I somehow never thought of trying the shiny new phone that sat on the table in the hall. As I grew into my teens, the memories of those childhood conversations never really left me.

Often, in moments of doubt and perplexity I would recall the serene sense of security I had then. I appreciated now how patient, understanding, and kind she was to have spent her time on a little boy.

A few years later, on my way west to college, my plane put down in Seattle. I had about a half-hour or so between planes. I spent 15 minutes or so on the phone with my sister, who lived there now. Then without thinking what I was doing, I dialed my hometown operator and said, 'Information, please.'

Miraculously, I heard the small, clear voice I knew so well.


I hadn't planned this, but I heard myself saying, 'Could you please tell me how to spell fix?'

There was a long pause. Then came the soft spoken answer, 'I guess your finger must have healed by now.'

I laughed, 'So it's really you,' I said. 'I wonder if you have any idea how much you meant to me during that time?'

'I wonder,' she said, 'if you know how much your calls meant to me. I never had any children and I used to look forward to your calls.'

I told her how often I had thought of her over the years and I asked if I could call her again when I came back to visit my sister.

'Please do,' she said. 'Just ask for Sally.'

Three months later I was back in Seattle. A different voice answered, 'Information.' I asked for Sally.

'Are you a friend?' she said.

'Yes, a very old friend,' I answered.

'I'm sorry to have to tell you this,' she said. 'Sally had been working part-time the last few years because she was sick. She died five weeks ago.'

Before I could hang up she said, 'Wait a minute, did you say your name was Wayne?'

'Yes,' I answered.

'Well, Sally left a message for you. She wrote it down in case you called. Let me read it to you.'

The note said, 'Tell him there are other worlds to sing in. He'll know what I mean.'

I thanked her and hung up. I knew what Sally meant.

Never underestimate the impression you may make on others.

Whose life have you touched today???

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