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I have been feeling bad about my sudden departure from blogging several months ago. I started a new job at GE Capital and am really enjoying the challenge. It is a great fit for me and my skills and a real blessing to my family, but I find I have a lot less time and energy for writing.

If anyone still checks this or follows our feed, I did want to give a few short updates. Teresa has been having severe knee pain for months. After a bit of unsuccessful physical therapy, Teresa underwent her second surgery on her left knee… She is feeling better than she has in a long time, but we are anxious about test results that may tell us what went wrong in the first place. For now it is nice to be able to consider returning the borrowed cane and crutches!

Elliot continues to do well. He is almost 20lbs! Not bad for a guy that weighed in at just over 2lbs 13 months ago. He has five teeth and is discovering the joys of mobility. He is in the early stages of crawling and loving the new found ability to get around.

I will try to get on here more often in the coming months. For now, here is a quick video from earlier this evening. Teresa is out with some friends, but I am not sure she will want to leave me home alone with Elliot again!

good news… bad news…

The Good News… is that my sister and I both are physically doing fine. Her tests came back free and clear and I was dancing as much as my knees would let me. Speaking of my knees – they apparently do not need to be amputated! The growth is apparently a benign fibro something… basically a fibrous glob of tissue and nothing to be concerned about. My knee caps however, not good. They are not centered as they should be, due to a variety of reasons. They have sunk and shifted to the anterior (ouside) of my legs, rubbing agianst my femur. Apparently some serious phisical therapy will help train them to go back where they are supposed to be. In the mean time, no activity for me.

The Bad News… A very dear childhood friend of mine passed away in a car accident this weekend. Click here to read “Vacaville Crash”. I lay awake wondering “Why”? I am restless and heartbroken. My last post I spoke of being still, and rising above the storms within the grasp of my God. Well, the mother of all storms has hit again and what do I do? I am far from still as I lie restless, tossing and turning and screaming to God “Why”? I do not now know, He has not and may not ever give me an answer. I can at least say this, I can bring my questions and broken heart before Him and he promises to not turn me away. He does listen to my cries, my anger, my rants, my brokeness. My God is big enough to hear me and take me as I am. I pray that my dear family and friends know this comfort in their loss. Please join me in prayer for them, will you? What makes this all the more difficult is that not even a year has passed since his mom (aunt dennie to me) passed away. You may remember reading about her in a previous post while Elliot and I were still in the hospital last summer. Timmy is survived by an incredible wife, 3 kids, his father, 1 brother and 2 sisters… lots of wonderful nieces and nephews… and many friends that were lucky enough to be like family. I will miss you brother.

Still

When I approached Friday’s (3/18/11) Praise and Worship chapel, here is where I was coming from…

Japan – By now I am certain anyone reading this knows of the travesty that has hit Japan, and the continuous uphill battle that they have.  I am broken for Japan and where they are at.  The pain, the searing loss, and immense heartache.   I also think of the American men and women stationed in Japan.  A close family friend of ours, and her husband, have been stationed in Japan for many, many, years.  This past weekend she was, along with other military family members, voluntarily evacuated.  Since her husband has boarded his boat with his crewmates – off to an undisclosed location – they came to the wise conclusion that she should go home to Vacaville so he wouldn’t worry about her while needing to be focused on important work that is at hand for him.   I cannot imagine how difficult of a decision that was for them.  Having to leave all their Japanese and Military family and friends.  My heart aches for them as well.  Two of my favorite blogs surrounding Japan were written by Ken Castor (click here) or(www.kencastor.com/2011/03/praying-in-scripture.html) and Lani Lor (click here) or (lanilor.tumblr.com).  Please read them when you get the chance. 

Sister – I spoke with my sister a few days ago.  She shared with me that she is awaiting some test results.  To make a long story short – a cyst was found and we are waiting to hear if it is pre-cancerous, cancerous, or benign.  Given our family background with Cancer – we are obviously concerned.  Concerned, what an understatement.  Why must we wait so long?  Waiting is the worst!  Yet it is in the waiting I think that God does his best work at refining my aching heart and longing soul.  Teaching me to accept His Peace, moment by moment, baby step by baby step.    

Me – On Thursday I went to the Orthopedic Specialist.  I have been having continuous knee problems since last November/December.  They would hurt, then kind of get better, then hurt again.  They have progressively gotten worse until now I am in constant pain.  They pain level fluctuates – I have my good times and bad times of the day – but overall the pain is always present.  At Thursday’s appointment we go some x-rays and the doc found some arthritis, some bone on bone, and something else.  A growth?  Above my right knee?  He directed me to get an MRI right away.  Wait a minute, stop right there… a growth?  What does that mean? What is it? Well, according to the Doc it could be bone, cartilage, or something else.  I was still in shock when he left and I had the MRI orders in hand.  It wasn’t until after I left that it hit me.  Then Friday morning I was off, bright and early, to get my MRI.  It was worse than uncomfortable, it was painful.  To make things more exciting, the person administering the MRI was not the most compassionate.  Gabe put it kindly, “Wife, she is not living a better story.”  Sadly true. 

So shortly after I get to Crown it is time for Praise and Worship Chapel.  I was hurting physically and emotionally.  Full of concerns: international, familial, and personal.  I felt like I was, and still feel, as though I am in the boat and the storms are raging all around (both physical and metaphorical).  And this is the song that hit me most:

Song: Still
Artist: Reuben Morgan

 Hide me now
Under your wings
Cover me
Within Your mighty hands

 When the oceans rise and thunders roar
I will soar with You, above the storm
Father, You are king over the flood
I will be still and know You are God

Find rest my soul, in Christ alone
Know His power, in quietness and trust

What an appropriate time to worship God in this way.  To seek sanctuary in Christ.  Why is it that when it comes to one thing today I can trust God and know that he is king over it.  He has control.  Then when it comes to another thing tomorrow, I take my eyes off of Him and get lost. Like Peter I start to sink into the storm itself.

In a few moments I will go in and get the results to my MRI.  My husband just called and prayed with me.  Like Peter – I am taking my eyes off of the storm and looking full on at my Lord.  Thank you Father, that you are indeed king over the flood.  It submits to you, not the other way around.  You have me here, for a reason.  So I will keep my eyes on you and walk towards you and feel that Peace that can only come from you.  I choose to trust you my Lord, King over the floods of my life, as I hobble – baby step by painful baby step – through this thing called life.

My Buddy Peter

I can relate to the apostle Peter. He desperately wants to know Jesus. He is quick to step out in faith, but at the first point of confusion he is equally quick to turn his trust back to his own understanding.

When Jesus invites Peter to climb out of the boat in the middle of the lake to join him for a stroll, he jumps overboard in faith; when he hits the water, however, his faith retreats and he finds himself drowning.

In Matthew 16, after being tested by the Pharisees and Sadducees, Jesus asks His disciples who they think He is. Peter profoundly and accurately calls Jesus the long-prophesied Messiah, the Son of God (matthew 16:15-16). Jesus then tells the Disciples that he will die and be raised on the third day. Peter, just six verses after he declared Jesus the culmination of Hebrew prophecy and redeemer of the world, can’t grasp what Jesus is saying. He says to Jesus, “Never, Lord! This shall never happen to you” (verse 22, niv)! Jesus had just told Peter that he was the rock He would build His church upon. Now He turns to Peter and says, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the concerns of God, but merely human concerns” (verse 23b, niv).

Peter can be seen throughout his life to act in great faith and then turn almost immediately back to his selfish heart for council. It is easy to look at these stories and wonder if Peter suffered from a sort of religious bi-polar disorder. But, when I stop to look at my own life I see a very similar pattern.

I declare, “Jesus, you are the Son of God, my Saviour, and I am nothing without you. The divine Grace and Mercy you pour out on me are unfathomable and undeserved. I trust you with everything that I am and give you my life such that it is…” Then seconds later, after basking in Jesus’ approval I tell Jesus how my life ought to be going and outline the areas He is currently dropping the ball.

The things that I have entrusted Jesus with, somehow end up in my own pocket again, back under my control. I too am quick to hop out of the boat, but then try to walk to Jesus under my own skill and power, expecting Him to aid my efforts… I wonder if I am capable of living by faith, trusting the hand of God to guide my steps down the path He has chosen for me.

Slow To Type

Have you noticed how cyber communication tends to bring out the worst in people? There is a sense of ambiguity that seems to embolden people to let hate and anger fly from their fingers. Under a vague, untraceable pseudonym, people can say every vengeful and venomous thing they can think of; hate and depravity pour forth. Online conversations often escalate to unbelievable levels of stupidity and destruction even among the educated, logical, and invested members of society.

Don’t believe me? Just find any article expressing a political view. Conservatives and Liberals smack venom-saturated adjectives back and forth like a tether ball. This happens in the Church too. Find an article about Rob Bell’s new book, Love Wins. The validity or truth of his views aside, the sinful and vile comments coming from even the theologians often match those of their political neighbors blow for blow.

A story I read today about a mass overdose of a legal chemical in Blaine told of a dead 19 year old father and at least ten other teens and young adults taken to the hospital in serious or critical condition. The story made me cry. Young people often make very poor decisions. I have made very poor decisions. What appalled me even more where the comments made by readers of the articles telling the story. People expressed relief that 11 stupid kids were taken out of society. People crassly and sarcastically commented on the jobs the parents did with their children. Darwin was praised and very few seemed to care about the lives effected by this tragic example of the wages of sin.

Take a look here or here.

Know this, my beloved brothers: let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger; for the anger of man does not produce the righteousness of God. Therefore put away all filthiness and rampant wickedness and receive with meekness the implanted word, which is able to save your souls.
But be doers of the word, and not hearers only, deceiving yourselves. For if anyone is a hearer of the word and not a doer, he is like a man who looks intently at his natural face in a mirror. For he looks at himself and goes away and at once forgets what he was like. But the one who looks into the perfect law, the law of liberty, and perseveres, being no hearer who forgets but a doer who acts, he will be blessed in his doing.
If anyone thinks he is religious and does not bridle his tongue but deceives his heart, this person’s religion is worthless. Religion that is pure and undefiled before God, the Father, is this: to visit orphans and widows in their affliction, and to keep oneself unstained from the world” (James 1:19-27, ESV).

Jesus tells an angry mob wanting to stone a women caught in sin that the person who has never done anything wrong, never made a mistake, can throw the first stone (John 8:7)… Humanity is NOT good at their core. There are no good people among us. All have sinned, and all need Grace. Followers of Jesus especially need to step back from their keyboards and consider the message they are about to submit. Freely give as you have received (Matthew 10:8)… Forgive others as God forgave you (Colossians 3:13)… Before beginning a typographical stoning, we must consider our own humanity as well as the call to Love God and neighbors.

Hero?

Most people who have realized the American dream will tell you that they succeed because they have taken control of their own destiny. The power of their will and the strength of their resolve leads them into decisions and actions that propel their own stories forward.

It doesn’t take a lot of digging, however, to find pain and brokenness littered along the paths of many flourishing businessmen, successful celebrities, high-office politicians, wealthy doctors, or powerful lawyers. Money, fame, and power can be won through skill, education, and hard work. However, these acquisitions don’t appear to create the heroes in the stories we love. Why?

Every good hero starts as a nobody; an orphan, an urchin, a drunk, a prostitute, an outcast, or a cripple. Every hero is, at first, pathetic. Secretly, we all relate to pathetic, helpless and hopeless people. We want them to succeed because if they can, maybe we can too.

Every hero struggles with self-doubt. Every hero is forced to act like a hero before they become that hero. Every hero gives up offered power for the good of others. Every hero faces seemingly insurmountable hardships that test their own will and resolve. In the end, great stories are filled with heroes that overcome a more powerful force, freeing others through great personal sacrifice with the support and/or power of something or someone larger than themselves.

My friend, Gary Stratton takes a look at the making of a true hero in his post, What on Earth is a Two Handed Warrior? He has decided that a “Two Handed Warrior” is a hero that operates in the realms of both faith and culture. I agree. Righteous resolve to overcome an evil villain might be enough to protect the hero himself for a time, but a love for and faith in something greater than themselves leads to a willingness to sacrifice whatever the hero has for oppressed people and cultures. A hero’s sacrificial love encourages other pathetic, helpless and hopeless people to become heroes themselves.

Something else we can learn by studying the heroes of other stories, is that heroes make mistakes. They are prone to falter in their grand and epic quests. Self-doubt, stupidity and temptation can waylay even the most resolute character.

After his legendary struggle to save Middle Earth from a power astronomically greater than any he could hope to possess, Frodo fails to destroy the ring of power. He ultimately looses his resolve and can no longer fight the battle before him. He resolves to take the evil power of the ring for himself (Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings Trilogy).

That happens some times. It happens a lot, actually. Heroes strive to accomplish tasks on their own, forgetting the guiding power of force; this usually seems to happen when a character first begins to believe that they are in fact a hero. It is a good thing that great stories often forgive momentary lapses in resolve or in faith. It is a good thing that heroes aren’t actually the last hope of humanity. The author often has one more surprise, a surprise that tips the scales and leads to glorious victory.

In the end, there is often a deeper magic that corrects the seemingly un-correctable. One act of true love or selfless sacrifice can break even the most powerful enchantments. Heroes are ultimately dependent on the greater being or power that propels them.

I propose that humans were created to be the heroes of the epic stories of God. The villains in God’s story are the beings that attempt to claim the title of god for themselves. In that sense, all human’s have been born villains. Since the fall of humanity we have sought to be like God, raising ourselves up in an attempt to replace Him. So it seems appropriate to say that nobody is inherently a hero. Becoming a hero requires a rejection of our god-self and a redemptive act of God. Since hero-ship is not a benevolent blessing of our fairy godmother or passed down through a lineage of heroes, I have to conclude that anyone and everyone can become a hero in God’s story.

The Bible is full of unlikely heroes. People like Joseph, Rahab, David, Moses, Paul, Peter, Joseph of Arimathea or Isaiah. I feel like the important thing to remember is that these people were not born heroes. In fact, at times some of these people led lives worthy of super-villian status. So have I, and I am willing to bet that you have too.

I believe God is inviting everyone to play a grand part in the story He is composing. The question is, are we willing to reject our god-selves and rely on any amount of faith we can muster in the redemptive act of God? Are we willing to answer the call of Christ, rejecting our own will and dropping our self-promoting resolve, taking up the burden of our hero’s cross to follow after Jesus?

I wish I could say that I am writing these thoughts from experience, but I am not. I am writing these thoughts because I don’t think I want to be a hero. I am not certain I can give up my god-self, and I struggle to have faith in the redemptive act of Christ. I have felt God’s foreshadowing and know I am fighting the sub-plots he wishes to write. I think the next post will explore the cost of the answering or ignoring the call of the Author.

The Author of a Better Story

Often finishing a book is a sad event. The story ends, and while it offers a neat sort of closure that only exists in books and movies, that end leaves me mourning the loss of new friends who have moved on to their happily ever after leaving me to deal with the same set of struggles I had before their story even began.

Stories take me away from the immediate conflicts I am facing. Bills, work, relationships, unfinished projects and general chaos are forgotten for a time. It is the feeling of loss, leading to the confused moment when I ask, now what?, that makes me question why I find stories so addictive. Certainly there are better, more productive things I could accomplish with my time.

Something about being human makes us long for stories I think. We want to get lost in someone else’s life, and we long to meet characters we can relate too. Stories, both fictional and true, expand our understanding of the human experience. We learn to love, hate, laugh and cry. We learn about sacrifice and pain as well as passion and fortune.

Like anything that has great positive potential, however, we can grow to depend on the stories of others; we can lose our own identities and sense of purpose as we submerge our hopes and dreams in a screen or in to the pages of yet another tale.

There is nothing inherently wrong with stories, but if we are not actively engaged in our own story we will not gain anything from even the best of them. We have to be brave enough to swallow the red pill (Matrix reference), taking control and responsibility for our own stories. If we don’t, nothing productive can come from the lessons and emotional depth we find in the stories of others; we will have no place to apply the things we glean.

Thanks to Donald Miller’s book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: How I Learned to Live a Better Story, I am very excited about the idea that God is the author of my story. As Miller points out, I can choose to take the pen and scratch out my own pathetic and childish sub-plots, or I can seek Him and follow the course of the story He wants to write for me.

I am exploring my life as a character in this divine story. That the Creator would look to craft a story around me is ridiculous! What part could I possibly play? Yet, in all of the stories I love, the hero is always pathetic, helpless and hopeless just like me. What if God is calling each of us to be a hero in the tale He creates around us? A story that starts with me a lifetime away from Him, yet one that ends with me, his long-lost, once-feared-dead son wrapped in His loving embrace? A child of God will likely live an amazing story if they will accept their place in His family.

Donald Millers says, “The great stories go to those who do not fear…” Are you playing the part of an extra in your own story? Are you willing to give yourself to the story God is composing around you? These are the questions I am asking myself…

A Life Stranger Than Fiction

One of my favorite movies to come out in the last decade is the 2006 film Stranger Than Fiction, starring Will Ferrell, Maggie Gyllenhaal, Dustin Hoffman, Queen Latifah, and Emma Thompson.

In the film, Ferrell plays Harold Crick, a career IRS auditor living a mundane and stagnant life driven by repetitively redundant daily tasks; wake up to the alarm on his watch, brush his teeth with numbered stokes in a prescribed pattern, get dressed, walk to the bus stop, etc… The movie takes a turn when Harold starts hearing a female voice narrating his life. Her words describe his actions and purposes in a dull and meticulous manner, highlighting a life void of spontaneity or passion.

While he is frustrated by the voice, and begins to believe he may be slightly mad, Harold generally continues his life as before. That is until he hears the voice of the unknown narrator say, “little did he know that this simple, seemingly innocuous act would result in his imminent death.”

The thought that his life my be ending in the near future changes his outlook. Suddenly he sees life differently and wants to get more out of it. He identifies his goals. He begins to care about the people in his life and takes up the guitar. He falls in love… The narration continues as he seeks to find the person telling his life story in time to avoid “his imminent death.”

* * *

I am listening to Donald Miller’s latest book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: How I Learned to Live a Better Story. In it, he tells of sitting down with film makers to adapt his best selling memoir, Blue Like Jazz to film. The process of taking his life, and making it into a movie made him analyze what makes a good story, a recurring theme in some of his other work as well. In the screen play, he is forced to create an interesting character that people will be able to relate to before the final credits roll. He takes to calling the character ‘Fake Don.’

The task made him ask questions about the ‘Real Don’ however, and questions about the story ‘Real Don’ was living. Much like Harold Crick, he is faced with a life he is not completely satisfied with. The character he plays in his story is not the role he truly wants to play.

* * *

While I am not hearing the voice of an invisible narrator planning my death, and I am not in the process of adapting my life into a feature length film, I do wonder about the character I play and the story my life tells. I have been talking to people and thinking about a growing discontentment. My struggle with depression and anxiety have created a character I don’t often like, and I wonder how to break out of the repetitive nature of my thoughts and actions to live a story that people can relate to and want to play a part in. So much of my life is spent trying to deal with the seemingly random and disconnected issues that strike in an unending deluge of frustration.

Donald Miller’s friend Jordan decided that a story is “a character that wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.” While this seems like a pretty basic definition of what makes a story, I think that it is simple in a very profound way. Every story that I like has this element. The character does not always get what they are seeking. Those are tragedies, in which the character is often killed by the conflict while trying to achieve their ultimate goal.

I can’t think of any memorable story that is not about “a character that wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.” I have perhaps watched movies with characters that are not looking for something specific, but those are the movies that leave me shaking my head and wanting my money back.

Three elements: a character, a goal, and conflict.

When I think about my own story, I am the obvious main character. But when I stop to think about my ultimate goal I have to pause; what do I want? My life is filled with conflict. Without identifying the thing I am seeking, however, understanding and overcoming the conflict of the story is impossible. I can’t categorize my struggles or take appropriate action in an effort to overcome them. Without a well defined goal, my story is just random, undefined struggles that leave my character meandering aimlessly about in frustration. People can’t relate to a pointless struggle. Perhaps this is because they too, are struggling with sporadic conflict halting their progress to their own undetermined desires.

I have been asking this question: What is the point of my story? When looking at the definition of story as provided by Donald Miller’s friend Jordan, I am beginning to see that, perhaps, this is the wrong question to ask. The point? How can I understand the point? Any answers I come to are simply philosophical abstractions, or perhaps distractions, of age-old ponderings of the meaning of life, the universe and everything.

In Douglas Adams’ comedic, sci-fi classic, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, it takes the supercomputer, Deep Thought, 7½ million years to decide that the ultimate answer to the ultimate question of life, the universe and everything is, in fact, 42. When the computer is questioned about the ridiculous answer, it can only reply that perhaps they should have tasked it with finding the ultimate question rather than the ultimate answer. Often I think we spend time on the wrong questions, which in the end can only provide non-applicable answers. We must understand what question we most need the answer to before we can move on.

What makes a story? …a character that wants something and overcomes conflict to get it.”

Rather than asking what the point is, perhaps I should be questioning what I want. I think I have been doing just that for awhile now, if not out load, then at least in my heart. The answer is Jesus. I want Jesus.

I had a conversation with a friend, whom I love dearly, yesterday. I think he is struggling to find the ultimate answer to life, the universe and everything. He is doubting his life-long faith because some of the answers he is arriving at are as meaningless as ‘42.’

My heart aches with him. I understand him. He is wrestling with theological questions that just don’t have seemingly satisfying answers; questions that can only be answered by God. He is not alone. Job demanded an account of God, Jacob wrestled with God and Moses demanded to see God. Thomas had to actually put his fingers in the holes in Jesus’ hands and the gash in His side to satisfy his questions.

Each of these men struggled to understand. They could have given up and decided that God was not worthy of their praise or that He simply did not exist. When their questions were not satisfied, however, they chose a new goal. Their goal was not ultimately to get satisfying answers, but rather, they sought God Himself. The promising thing is that they all found Him, and their questions were finally answered in a way that satisfied them.

Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives, and the one who seeks finds, and to the one who knocks it will be opened.” (matthew 7:7-8, esv).

I believe this to be true. My goal is ultimately Jesus, and my story is one in which I fight to overcome conflict along my path to find him. The path is not always clear and includes many sub-plots, but when I look at the conflict that arises in the story of my life, keeping my goal in mind, I cease to live amidst random struggles wandering aimlessly about. I become driven, and my story has purpose as well as something at stake. Perhaps there will be an element of my struggle that draws people in to my story. Perhaps they will appreciate the conflict I must overcome, or greater still, perhaps they will join with me, melding their story with mine for a time as we journey toward a common goal: Christ.

On The Charts but Under the Weather

Life at the Hendry house has been fairly eventful over the last weeks. There are approaching contract end dates/job changes, vehicle problems, more vehicle problems, Elliot’s nine-month check-up, and a couple cases of the latest community-shared bug. I have decided that it is in these sorts of times that I have the hardest time staying checked in to reality. I am not talking just about physical reality either; my desire to know Jesus is not as strong when life is busy and things get stressful.

I turn stress inward, choosing to let it simmer while I ruminate on its source. It is not good for my fingernails or my emotional health, but it is my natural response. Sin acts as yeast in an internal pool of stress. Greed, pride, fear of man, doubt of God all devouring the sweet stress molecules. Fermenting stress does not give off gasses like a fermenting liquid. Rather, it gives off other things like anger, jealousy, malcontent, lies, theft, or lust. Fermenting stress creates sourness on the outside as well as on the inside.

My prayer is that God will help me flush out the bubbling reservoir inside of me. I need to learn new and better ways of dealing with anxiety. Perhaps it is not mine to deal with at all…

Elliot: fortunately, Elliot’s 9 month appointment was not the source of any of my added stress. At least not beyond the struggle to get to the appointment on time while still getting my work done last Friday. The most exciting news from the check up is that Elliot is now on the official charts! He has broken in to the 5th percentile for height and weight, meaning that 95% of kids his age are bigger and taller but in most cases they had quite a large head start. He was even more ambitious in the “head-circumference” department: the 15th percentile! I wonder who he inherited his massive cranium from?

It feels so good to be on the charts, even if only barely. We must not be screwing him up too badly in the nutrition department at least!

Falling almost right on top of that happy news was the tell-tale signs of coming illness, first in my body and then his. A second trip to the doctor in a four day span assured us that it was a normal bug, and not some strain of influenza or bacteria eating at his insides. At least that is what I gleaned from the doctor’s encouragements. Elliot is feeling very poorly, sad cough, burning fever, and he is experiencing almost projectile nose running! We are hoping his body will catch up with the virus quickly, and we are doing our best to love him and comfort him while we wait it out; just one more motivation to get rid of the well of anxiety I have stored up!

Teeth!

Elliot is growing up! We noticed that he started cutting his first teeth a few weeks ago! He is getting pretty good with his hands, grabbing whatever he sees and pulling on it. Rolling is getting easier, and it is obvious that he is developing a will! You can actually see him think of something, then try it. He is so much fun!