Gone are the days of less is more. Gone are the days where we had room to grow. Now there is barely a square foot of uncluttered space. Between the cats, the kid and the company I find myself without a seat. – Side note- the cats they think they own everything. The other day they were both laying perfectly content on the baby diaper changing table. Lovin’ that cushiony pad. Daddy was not happy!

Since getting married I have often said that God uses marriage to hold a mirror up to us to show us everything that He doesn’t (and never did) like about us. Since our daughter was born less than 3 weeks ago I realize that he uses children to show you even more how selfish you are, and how arrogant you are.

Prior to the baby Amy & I had our theories about what raising our child would be like. We had these high ideals that we were sure we’d be able to meet: everything from the type of delivery to the sleeping & eating patterns of our little girl. We’ve since found out that ideals are seldom lived up to.

–And I want to make a public apology to all parents everywhere for ever once thinking that it couldn’t really be that hard or that when I had children I would do it better. I had no right to speak, and am humbled by how truly little I really know.

People always said that I am good with kids.  And I think I am to some degree. But it’s very different when they’re your child and you need them to eat more or sleep more, or not cry so much. Sure, our baby girl seems to like the silly songs that I make up to get her to stop crying or fall asleep, but at 3:30 a.m. I’m not singing any made up songs. I’m praying, “Lord, please help Abigail to fall asleep.”

Right now we’re in that “schedule” verses “no schedule” questioning. How long can she go without a schedule before it starts becoming a pattern of it’s own, we ask ourselves. Basically, we’ve determined that at this point it’s all about survival. We don’t have to be great, we just have to survive. We’ve had to remind ourselves that with all the books out there there is no instruction manual to OUR baby. And even though we are both college educated there is no degree for parenting. It is a life skill that is learned by failing, stumbling blindly, humbling yourself, and much prayer.

Would definitely appreciate your continued prayers as Amy & I journey through this new adventure called parenting.

Well, it didn’t turn out to be a white Christmas after all. My mom called the Saturday before Christmas and told me that all the snow had melted from that week. All 8 inches were gone. I was bummed, but hoped that we’d get some snow before the big day. We drove up to Indiana on the windiest day that I can remember. I drove the whole way as it was all I could do to stay on the road; the wind was whipping violently. Just south of Indy it started spitting snow. That was a promising sign.  Around Anderson, IN the interstate started getting backed up. Being my old college town I new a few back roads so we got off on the less frequented first exit of Anderson. Our first stop light was a scary welcome back to Indiana’s fickle weather. The road was a sheet of ice. My wife’s car does not have front-wheel drive and we fish-tailed and skidded to a terrorizing stop. Welcome Back! Oy vay!
The entire town of Anderson- at least all the roads that we were on (heading through downtown)- were covered in ice. I tried to get back to the main road through town and liked to never get over the 8th Avenue bridge. All we could do was pray. Amy even suggested that we spend the night in Anderson and head out in daylight even though we were only an hour from home. Thankfully, once we got back to the main road things cleared up a bit. And as we finally got out of town the roads cleared up altogether. The wind come howling, but we made it home in one piece. Thank you, Jesus!
It was so good to be home- even without the snow. We had a great time with my mom. We had plenty of great conversations. And we didn’t go out too much b/c of the cold and b/c Amy usually gets sick when we’re home. Praise the Lord she didn’t this time! But instead, I was sick. I actually came home sick. I had lost my voice the week before Christmas and it didn’t return until after Christmas. Needless to say I didn’t get to sing Christmas songs with my mom like I had hoped. My voice sounded like I was going through puberty all over again, especially when I tried to sing.
Our family threw us our first baby shower while we were home. Most of my family, including my brothers, made it and a couple of family friends too. We had such a great time. My mom & my sister, Penny, did such an awesome job of planning the games, food and gifts. Amy & I had to compete against each other as we raced to diaper a baby blind-folded, identified melted chocolate candy bars inside baby diapers, and guessed the contents of baby food jars. It was great fun. And we got some awesome gifts for our little girl.
Our time at home was too short, but it’s always nice to come home to your own house. Amy & I had several days at home working on the house, getting chores done, and catching up on stuff before I had to come back to work today.
I hope that all of you had a great Christmas filled with  joy, laughter and love, and that your New Year is off to an awesome start!

I talked to my sister, Penny, this morning online and she told me they got 8 inches of snow this past weekend! I can’t wait to go home for Christmas. I’m ready for a white Christmas. And there’s a chance I’ll get to go sledding while I’m home.
I’m also ready to stay up late singing Christmas songs, sleep in, drink eggnog, and enjoy spending time with my family, especially my mom.

For unto us a Savior is born. For us the Son of God came down to Earth. For you the Prince of Peace was sent to rescue and redeem you. He came for me too. And I am so glad.
Christmas makes me sentimental. I can hear a simple song about this little boy who came to the world naked, cold, helpless, and I find myself near tears every time. All I have to hear is “O Holy Night” and I’m swept away to a place of intimate worship with the Savior of the World. I hear “O Come Let Us Adore Him” and I want to stop right then and there and adore him. I hear “Silent Night” and I can barely sing. Does it get any better than that? Does worship get any more powerful than silence? I know that the angels sing, “Holy Is The Lord! Who was, and is, and is to come!” But sometimes I feel that the Lord gets too big for words…the moment to powerful for sounds to capture my awe and complete reverence.
That’s what I want this season to be. That is all I want for Christmas. I want a Christmas full of moments: rich, moving, and deep. I want to savor everything that is true and right. The Lord is a Lord of abundance and yet I find the world telling me I need more. Now. I deserve it. And yet, my soul longs for more. I think all of ours does. It’s the kind of longing that the world cannot fill. It’s the longing that is fill with rich moments of silent worship, and hands clasped in prayer. It’s the kind of longing that is filled with the richness of manna from God’s word.
Too often I buy into what the world is selling. I get consumed with watching the Christmas movies, and decorating my house, inside & out, and I get hurried along by the crowds. I forget to stop and wonder. I forget to dream and wish. I forget to remember the reason for this entire bustle.
I want to talk to my wife until the wee hours of the morning and enjoy these last few months before parenthood begin. I want to know what her desires are….more than what’s on her wishlist, and yet, so many times, I forget to ask. I want to talk to my family more, and my friends too. I want to catch up with them. I want to reminisce. I want to reflect on this past year.
I want to sing more Christmas songs. And maybe write some of my own….maybe just for me & the Lord. I want to celebrate and worship the little boy who changed my life.

As I look out the window next to my cubicle I see a beautiful scarlet maple almost completely red. It’s a small tree and it grows in the back parking lot of my workplace. It’s the only tree that I can see from my view that is turning. Fall seems to be coming later to this area. It’s the middle of October and I’m missing the colors.

It seems that fall is much different here in Tennessee than it is in Northern IN. In Indiana, I remember feeling autumn come on slowly, even gracefully. You’d see the fields dry up and the nights would get cooler. Occasionally you’d see frost on the ground or on your car. Your breath was visible during the earliest and latest hours of the day. And the trees would gradually turn brilliantly beautiful hues of crimson, scarlet, gold, amber, yellow and brown, and then shed their leaves as if performing the most beautiful ballet- each one perfectly timed.

In Nashville, especially this year, the summer has held its grip far too long- not wanting to let go. The heat finally conceded to welcome in a much-needed cooler week, but summer hasn’t given up entirely. It’s like a teeter-totter going up & down; cool, then almost too warm. And the trees seem to be resisting as well. Perhaps after being nearly frozen to death in the spring, and practically dying of drought later in the summer they figure “Hey man, I’m going to stay green as long as I can! How could you deny me that?”   With those conditions I wonder if we’ll even have a fall at all.

And really, I have to wonder if what has really changed has been me. In Indiana life was slower. I lived in the country all of my life, except for my college years, and the views were spectacular. Maybe fall means even more because the farm that we rented only had 1 deciduous tree- a very young sugar maple. The rest of the trees were cragly, old cedar trees and every year it seemed we’d lose another one to a winter storm. We had a big yard and only one tree that changed. So I watched other trees on the bus, and I watched the trees as we rode to church. Along all the beautiful roads I would see God’s nature displayed gloriously.

Even in college, the campus had the most beautiful, huge trees- many close to a hundred years old. They covered the small campus. No wonder I connected with this school. There was a big hill near the library that my friends and I rolled down in the fall. It was a blast. But there haven’t been any days of rolling down the hills since I’ve moved to Nashville. You won’t often walk though a big pile of fallen leaves; the yard services aren’t being paid for that. In fact, I don’t even have a yard (well, not much of one).  Not that I’d have time to do it even if I did. By the time I get home it’s nearly dark and in a week or two it will be completely dark.

I mentioned a couple of weeks ago how we went to Clarksville to enjoy a Fall festival and how it was a bust. When it’s 90 degrees outside it hardly feels like fall. Well, this weekend we’re trying again….hopefully. The Ellington Agricultural Center in Nashville, which I drive through as a short-cut everyday, is having their annual Music & Molasses Festival this weekend. It sounds as if it could be fun. And the weather should be a little more fall-ish. Perhaps after spending sometime really celebrating fall I will feel more like I used to when I was back home in Indiana.

I became an uncle again today for the 13th time! Little Noelle Joy was born to my younger brother Dan this morning. This makes for his 3rd child and second little girl. Mom & baby are doing great. I’m not 100% sure how they’ll spell Noelle, but for now I’m going with this. Congratulations Dan & Trisha! Welcome to the world baby Noelle!

I came home last night to sick wife who was in need of the prescription that I had picked up. She has some kind of sinusitis. The worst part is I most likely gave it to her. Not directly, but I wanted to sleep with the window open on Friday night, and it got pretty cold. And she woke up congested and it’s just gotten worse. I hate that for her. She even stayed home from school today. And if you know Amy, you know that’s not like her
Not that she had the strength, but last night she noticed it’s already too dark to take a walk by the time I get home. She was right. Summer’s long nights are leaving and Winter’s long nights are approaching. I think I’m slightly affected by the shortened days. I’m torn because I love Fall, but I really miss waking up to sunlight and coming home to sunlight. I miss talking walks with my wife while the sun begins to set. Granted it’s only be a couple of weeks, but when Daylight Savings Time comes at the end of the month (I really hate this concept) I’ll lose the light an hour earlier. I’m not excited about this.
Not sure that I can blame it on the deficit of light, but I’m having a hard time balancing all that I need to do. It seems that my list of things I need and want to do just keeps getting longer and my desire to do those things (or perhaps “the discipline”) is lacking. I feel very behind and when the days get shorter somehow I feel like I have less time to do them. The only thing I really want to do is read (and bake) which is a great thing, but not when you have several other things to accomplish. It doesn’t help when you buy 4 new books in one weekend and you still haven’t finished the last stack of books you bought from the used bookstore in Evansville. If only, I could get paid to read and bake. Any jobs out there for that?

It’s amazing how in the same morning you can be sitting in front of Amy Grant as she casually talks to you like you’re one of her best friends about the importance of being quiet, about expectation, and as she shares candid moments that lead you into a awesome place of intimacy with her and the Lord (a truly beautiful moment), and fifteen minutes later you’re in a business meeting about the decline of the market. Suddenly you’ve snapped out of that perfect hush that made tears weightlessly glide down your cheek because of the closeness that you felt to God. You lose the desire to call your wife and interrupt her day just to tell her how much you love her and are so glad that the Lord has blessed you with her and how she makes you want to be a better man. And your desire to share your whole life story- every candid detail- with this blogging community, to be known- because you were inspired by Amy Grant’s candor and reminded of your wife’s beautiful lack of secrecy, is lost in a matter of minutes.

How I wish I’d had time to come back to my desk and silently cry a little: to continue partaking of communion with a great and close God, to remain in the perfect hush. It’s a beautiful place.

Fall is the time of year that makes me really want to jump in the car and head to a fall festival. Saturday my wife were in a mood to do just that. Our options were limitless, but the festivals that interested us most were the Apple Butter Festival in White Bluff and Oktoberfest in Clarksville. Amy & I have never been to White Bluff. We liked the idea of seeing apple butter being made and the bluegrass, but the festival was only from 9-3 at the Church of God of the Prophecy, which made us wonder what we’d be getting into. We’d been to Clarksville before- kinda. We’ve stopped at the very charming Beech Haven Winery for the Jazz on the Lawn series that they have each fall. The wine was good, but does cajun music count as jazz? Not in my book. We also took the main drag into to town in search of Dunkin Donuts (that was before Nashville had any of their own) and another time we stopped at Starbucks as we were on our way to Evansville.

I chose Clarksville, because I figured if the festival was a bust there’d be other tourist kinds of things to see and do there instead. We headed up around 11- stopping for a late breakfast along the way. We made good time and headed downtown. I’d only seen pictures of downtown Clarksville, but I thought it looked pretty charming. Indeed it was, but it was void of people. I wondered aloud, “Where is everyone?” The main street showed no signs of a festival. I was very confused. We got out of our car and decided to walk around a bit to see what the downtown had to offer: not much in the way of businesses being open. Only a couple of shops and restaurants were open and again no signs of a German Oktoberfest. We found a lady sitting in the shade looking out over the river. I stopped to ask her where the festival was.

“Oh! The Oktoberfest is out at the fairgrounds. Are you familiar with Clarksville?” she asked. When we said no, she gave us directions. It wasn’t far. When we reached the fairgrounds we found a sign that said, “Oktoberfest Entrance” with an arrow. “Praise the Lord. We’ve found it.” Or so we thought. We saw tons of cars and tons of people. Then Amy asked, “Where are all the vendors?” We drove around a big loop to our right. It was Pee-Wee football games galore. Hundreds of kids suited up with parents cheering them to victory. Some of them even had their own cheerleaders with skirts and pom-poms and everything. We left that loop and figured they must be on the other side of the fairgrounds. So we took the left loop and it was EXACTLY the same. There were no vendors. There was no Oktoberfest. Only Pee-Wee football and plenty of it.

Disappointed we drove home from Clarksville- vowing never to bother with it again. I was really bummed, but then I remembered- This is why Amy & I prefer traveling to places East of Nashville. For us, we’re just more at home with the way of life, the scenery and the pace as we head east on 40.

I’m still in the mood to see a Fall Festival or visit some cool place this season. If you know of anything, preferably EAST of Nashville, please let me know.