Impatiens

We planted Impatiens this year on our patio. As I watered the plants yesterday afternoon, both of my children underfoot trying to get as wet as possible, I couldn't believe all of the buds ready to burst forth with color. With friends coming over for Easter, I delighted to think about how beautiful they'd be this weekend. They looked a little measly yesterday. 

The flowers led me to ponder Good Friday. What a strange name for one of the darkest days in history. Luke 23 describes the scene: "It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon, for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two (emphasis mine). 

In short, it was a dark, ugly time. But Jesus was not finished. When the women went to tend to his body early on the third day, they did not find him in the tomb as expected. He'd risen from the grave. He was alive. 

The name "Impatiens" is derived from the Latin "impatient." They are also known as the "touch-me-not" flower because when their seed capsules mature they explode when touched and send seeds up to several meters away. 

What am I sharing all of this? I'm not sure. It just seemed profound to me to ponder Easter and impatience together. I am impatient for so many things. Even as I whine about how fast my children are growing up, I'm impatient for them to reach the next stage. I'm impatient for the next time I get to see my extended family. I'm impatient for the time when I'll have a bigger house (or at least a bigger closet. Please, God?) But mostly, I think I'm impatient with my own maturation process. I want to be more mature and value the things of God more than the things of this world. Just like the seeds of this flower, mature people are attractive to us all. We want our lives to be touched by them.

Jesus Christ is a picture of the maturity that I think we all really seek. A life lived for others and, ultimately, laid down for those who scorned him. I have a long, long way to go. I am so thankful to have not only his example, but his love to guide me. 

My prayer for you this Easter is that you would know and experience the incomparable love of Jesus Christ. 

For God did not send his Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through him. John 3:17

Going down the bayou

Yesterday was a really interesting day, learning about the natural history of the Gulf of Mexico and hearing from various scientists and public officials. This morning, we set sail for Terrebonne Bay to learn about water sampling. I took this picture yesterday, but fortunately we're actually taking a bigger boat out this morning. 

Bayou Farewell

When I first moved to Louisiana seven years ago, my friend Adrienne Moore recommended a great book to me called Bayou Farewell by Mike Tidwell.

I love this book for a number of reasons. For one, Tidwell introduced me to the problem of coastal wetlands loss in Louisiana. This is a problem for the entire U.S. Why? Let me defer to the experts: 

Louisiana wetlands are unique and vital ecological assets worth saving. Wetlands act as a storm buffer against hurricanes and storms. They act as flood control devices: holding excess floodwaters during high rainfall (much like a sponge). Wetlands replenish aquifers, and they purify water by filtering out pollutants and absorbing nutrients. Approximately 40 percent of the coastal wetlands of the lower forty-eight states are located in Louisiana. Unfortunately, this fragile environment is disappearing at an alarming rate. Louisiana has lost up to 40 square miles of marsh per year for several decades – that’s 80 percent of the nation’s annual coastal wetland loss. To date, Louisiana has already lost coastal land area equal to the size of the state of Delaware. This loss is at an average rate of an acre every 38 minutes. If the current rate of loss is not slowed by the year 2040, an additional 800,000 acres of wetlands will disappear, and the Louisiana shoreline will advance inland as much as 33 miles in some areas (Coastal Wetlands Planning, Protection and Restoration Act, 1990).

I also love this book because of Tidwell's colorful description of the people who live along the coast of Louisiana. Their livelihoods have long been in shrimp and fish, but many of them can no longer support their families. The oil spill has not helped matters. After reading Tidwell's book, I knew I wanted to visit this part of Louisiana if given the opportunity.

Last fall, I was fortunate to be part of a team granted a grant from the National Science Foundation to study how journalists can best equip themselves to cover the ongoing story of the Deepwater Horizon Oil Spill. Part of this research project involves traveling to Chauvin, Louisiana this week to take part in a workshop for journalists, scientists and informal science educators. On Thursday, we will board the Acadiana and cruise out into upper Terrebonne Bay to gain a hands-on understanding of the tools and techniques used to collect oceanographic data in the wake of the Gulf Oil Spill.

I must admit, I am a little nervous because I really don't understand all of this science. But that is the point of this workshop. To help journalists translate science for their readers so they can be more informed on the issues.

I hope to have some stories and pictures to share when I return!

Spring, spring, glorious spring

I don't normally do pictures of the kids, but I couldn't resist sharing this one. This picture represents so much joy for me. Here are just a few things I am thankful for these days:

• Seeing the kids get to know each other and learn to love each other. As they get older, they play together more. I know the fights are coming, but for now we are in a very blissful stage of siblinghood.
• Saturdays! The weeks are busy in our house and Sundays are even busier. But Saturdays are family day and I treasure every minute. Today Fred cooked breakfast for all of us. Then we took the kids to the park to play and out to lunch. They both fell asleep on the way home. 
• John Parker's new ear tubes. On Friday he had surgery to get a second set of tubes and remove his adenoids. He did great. Here's to healthier days ahead!
• Beautiful weather.
• All of the colors outside. From pink azaleas to green leaves on trees, everything's in bloom and beautiful.
• New babies on the way - not mine! We have several great friends who are pregnant after long journeys to parenthood. It is such a joy to celebrate with them. These children are truly miracles. 

The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He makes me lie down in green pastures, he leads me beside quiet waters, he restores my soul. Psalm 23:1-3

The Right Thing

Two weeks ago, Kate turned three. With kindergarten over two years away, we seem to already be talking about school a lot. When you talk with parents in Baton Rouge, school is a popular topic of conversation. The public schools have struggled and while we are hopeful that our children will have the opportunity to attend public schools like we did as children, we feel a responsibility as parents to check out all of our options.

So we visited a private elementary school last week. I have to admit, I drank the Kool-Aid immediately. Pristine playgrounds, cute little science lab coats, class pets, dance classes - the opportunities for Kate to expand her horizons seemed boundless. But I'm trying to temper my enthusiasm by thinking about education in a broad sense.

How do you measure the value of becoming friends with someone whose family is very different from your own? Can you overstate the importance of the daughter of a Christian minister becoming friends with a child from a different faith background? If we send our children to private elementary school, are we making a decision that will set them on a certain course?

The only answer I have right now to all of these questions is that God created our children and he alone knows what is right for each of them. We have to seek his wisdom to make the right decision. So that is what we'll do.

But those little white lab coats were so cute.

"Will I be older tomorrow?"

"Mommy, will I be older tomorrow?"

Kate asked me this simple, innocent, yet somewhat disturbing question tonight while I was putting her to bed. I feel like every time I turn around she's older. There are so many wonderful things about her being older. It's so much fun to take her places and we can do so many fun things together. But there are also growing pains for all of us. The other day, she told me a story of a couple of little girls excluding her on the playground. I was so mad. I think the anger really comes from knowing I'm not in control. I want to follow her around and make sure everyone in the world sees the wonderful, sweet girl I know. But I realize that everyone experiences pain and hurt and she is not immune.

Will I be older tomorrow? I definitely am tonight :)

From the Bumpy Road

I've been thinking about some changes to this blog for some time. We are the "Gators from Tiger Country,"  but I didn't think that was the best identity for the blog. A few months back, I thought of this idea. I grew up on a rural road in Florida that some of my family members lovingly refer to as "the bumpy road." Sometimes, when the limestone road really needed grinding, you would hit a bump and you weren't sure what direction your car (or your bike) would take you. 

I think that's a pretty good description of our life right now. Don't get me wrong - we have a great, great life. But there are bumps. There are questions. We are juggling a lot and trying to live a life that brings glory to God. It can be hard to be transparent about the bumps. It's more fun to talk about the birthdays, anniversaries, fun trips, etc. But life is about both. 

I hope you enjoy reading about our journey. Come along for the ride!