James: Hey, Mom. What do you think Calvin’s mom, Calvin’s dad, and Ms. Wormwood are? Human or alien?

James: If someone in our family was being redundant, and they mentioned coffee, would they say, ‘Coffee! Latte! Cuppa Joe!’?

James: What do you think the Gotham City Mad Hatter’s evil laugh sounds like?

James: What do you think it would be like if we lived in Gotham City and I was NOT Batman?

James: How many orange dogs are there?

James: Do you think they’ll make a new Peter Pan called Peter Pan: The Legend Begins?

James: Do I have a catchphrase?

James: What type of comedy do you think Miss Piggy was created for?

James: Who is the youngest living creature in this room in dog years?

And one from Jonathan that was just way too cute to keep to myself:

Jonathan: Did you know that if you have two mice, then pretty soon, you will have a lot more mice?

Recently, they remembered our cancelled trip and mourned vociferously the theme-park-lessness of their lives. Buy hey. I didn’t make it to Disneyland until I was nearly 20, and they didn’t even have Legoland until I was 23. And somehow, I survived my childhood. Barely.

But silently, I mourned with my boys.

Turns out Someone Else had compassion on the boys too, because He orchestrated our attendance at two grand events that brought balm to their souls. (And mine.)

The first, which I’ve already blogged a bit about, was the Lego Yoda Master Builder event at our local mall. First of all, we have the only Lego Store in our state. So that’s nifty all by itself. But a giant eight-foot Yoda is rarer still. Doesn’t happen on a regular basis.

We went to help at the beginning of the build. Here, the boys are holding the Master Builder’s model that he uses as a guide. If you look closely, you can see little numbers on Yoda’s head. 8. 6. 12. And to the right of Jonathan, you can see the base of the big version.

I’m just sure this must be one of the bricks I assembled. They didn’t build Yoda out of small bricks. Their volunteers built bigger bricks out of smaller bricks, and then they built Yoda out of those.

And here is the completed giant, looking very wise.

He positively towers over my super cute boys…

…and their parents.

Of course we had to ride the escalator to get an aerial view.

And for country bumpkins like us…

…this turned out to be the highlight of the whole extravaganza. The boys went up and down many, many times. SO adorable. And so… theme-parkish.

But that wasn’t all! Less than a week later, our landlords popped upstairs and offered, very randomly, right out of the blue, to give us free tickets to Disney on Ice. They’d been planning to attend that evening with their sweet grandbabies, but they and their mama got so sick they couldn’t make it, and no one wanted to go without the grandkids. Not only did Tim & Laurie pass their tickets along to us, but they also gave us cash for gas and parking, and a super nifty zippered tote to fill up with goodies. Even though they were sad that their grandsons were sick and they were missing out on their fun evening, they turned right around and treated us. Very generous.

The first Disney hero we saw was none other than Mater himself.

Followed soon after by the very chic and snazzy Lightning McQueen.

Their mouths moved, and I thought the cars were driven by remote, but Jeff says there were drivers in each vehicle, using that nifty window decal thingy that lets you look out and no one else look in. Or something like that.

My favorite portion came next. I was thirteen when The Little Mermaid came out, so that was a bit magical. Also, figure skating is my favorite… sport. So… ya know.

I thought Ursula was pretty cool-lookin’. The skater underneath all that getup whisked right around the ice. No triple jumps, though. I tell ya.

Next came the boys’ favorite. Lion King! See, on top of the mountain thing is Scar, surrounded by hyenas. At the bottom left is Simba, running away because he thinks he killed his father. And that herd of wild animals with the spindly white legs… and skates? Wildebeests, of course.

Hakuna matata! What a wonderful phrase! Hakuna matata! Ain’t no passin’ craze! It means no worries! For the rest of your days! It’s our problem-free philosophy! Hakuna matata! Pumba’s got skates on his hands, he can’t see a thing, and his back must be killing him, but he doesn’t mind, because… hakuna matata.

And last, and certainly, in the opinion of my manly sons, definitely least, we were graced with the presence of fairies. Yuck. Flowers. Double yuck. Giant sparkly butterflies. Triple yuck. TinkerBell’s cables were clearly evident in real life. And check out the guy on the right. “Mommy, when I grow up, I want to be a figure skater dressed as an enormous pink flower with white tips…”
But observe, if you will, the athleticism. The guy is not only holding his own form, but supporting the girl as well. See her hands on his wrists? This picture reminds me of my marriage. Minus the, you know, clip-on wings.

Thanks ever so much, Tim & Laurie! We love you guys.

And see how God provides for us? I’m so thankful He gave these treats to my kids. He is Yahweh Yireh, our provider. Even the fun stuff.

Cast your burden upon the LORD and He will sustain you; He will never allow the righteous to be shaken. ~Psalm 55:22

Well, it didn’t happen quite like that. The symptoms didn’t manifest for about 36 hours.

And suddenly, without warning, we’d lost eight days. No idea where they went. Buried under medicine doses, hourly temperature readings, high fevers that wouldn’t come down, listlessness, animation marathons, and lots and lots of fear.

I was scared James would die. His fever lasted eight days. Eight. Don’t tell me that’s nothing to be concerned about. Don’t tell me that’s normal for this type of flu. Don’t tell me I’m being ridiculous and my fear is unfounded. People are dying from this flu every day. Of course I was afraid.

From the very first morning of James’s high fever, I prayed desperately for God to heal him. “Please, Abba,” I muttered while cleaning out medicine dosing cups, “don’t take my son.”

His reply: This is for My kingdom.

“But, Abba, this is my son.”

All day, for eight, long, uncertain days, Mark Schultz looped in my head:

Can you hear me?
Am I getting through tonight?
Can you see him?
Can you make him feel alright?
If you can hear me,
Let me take his place somehow
See, he’s not just anyone
He’s my son

Partway through the week, God reminded me He’d given His own Son for His kingdom, too, and He knew how I felt.

Small comfort. “So… what are You saying, Abba? Are You saying You’re going to take him?”

Silence.

I tried to give James to God, no matter what might happen. Sometimes I left him in God’s hands, and sometimes I snatched him back. I knew I was consumed by fear, but I couldn’t get around it.

Every time James coughed, with his face contorted in pain, a scream rang through my mind. “Nooooooooooo!!!” I found my fists constantly clinched in helplessness.

Finally, at the end of the eighth day, with an ache so heavy I could actually feel it pressing, I laid my hands on James’s chest and poured out my heart to God. I begged Him, in surrender, to comfort and heal my son, and to give him rest and peace.

The next morning, Day 9, James awoke with no fever.

Finally.

I should have been relieved, but all day long, I kept nervous watch to see whether or not the fever would return.

It did not.

That night, James slept in his own bed. I didn’t need to sleep near him to monitor his breathing and temperature, and he didn’t need to sleep sitting up. He fell asleep peacefully.

The next morning, still no fever. I decided to go ahead and let myself sigh with relief.

We’re on Day 11 now, still weak and dazed, but improving steadily.

For God’s kingdom.

What to do?

I have a very misty memory of four-year-old me at my grandparents’ house one Halloween. They lived way out in the country with no neighbors, so we went to all the outside doors of the house and collected candy from grandparents, aunts, uncles, and older cousins.

So I asked our lovely landlords if we could trick-or-treat at various doors around their house. They were very willing to help out, but I was totally unprepared for just how special they would make this gloomy, sicky time by exposing their multiple personality disorders to the world for our benefit.

Here we are, getting ready to head out. On the left, we have a Crimson Marionette. On the right, we have a Pumpkin Head.

Pumpkin Head makes his way down the street.

At the first door, we were greeted by Elmo himself! And our very sweet Laurie. This was James’s favorite.

Next we encountered a Monkey Man. (The monkey started out more ceremoniously draped, but he slipped before I snapped the picture.)

The Monkey Man made Daddy mysteriously disappeared, but such things happen on Halloween, so we continued on without him. We think he may have been transformed into Igor. (James’s other favorite.)

A very sweet flower lady cheered the boys at the next door.

And they got to see their very first real-live biker!

They were even given candy from a nice, cute doggy.

A pleasant elderly fellow got out of bed just to answer his door for us.

And then we met a biker chick! And her pet Motorcycle Monkey.

This dog catcher was Jonathan’s “first place tie” for favorite.

Jeff and I favored the pothead landlord.

This gal, the other half of Jonathan’s “first place tie” for favorite, made the boys guess her superhero identity before she would give them any candy. Can you guess who she is?

My favorite crashed motorcyclist friend, Julia. Those crutches are real, folks!

And this is our very nice neighbor, Tim.

Thank you so very, very much, Tim, Laurie, and Julia!

Love,
Crimson Marionette, Pumpkin Head, Dog Catcher the 2nd, and Igor

After someone had a conversation with Jeff, $20 came our way.

I needed $20 worth of gas to get to my cousin’s house and back, but $20 would also have bought us milk, cheese, eggs, and bread. After praying about it, Jeff and I decided it would somehow, inexplicably, be okay to spend the money on gas and get the homeschool materials, and we trusted God to provide the food.

Turns out the $20 was good for gas and food. My cousin loaded me up from her well-stocked pantry. She joyfully lavished us with milk, cheese, eggs, bread, and various other food items — much more than I would have been able to get for $20 at the store.

God took that $20 and multiplied it. He is Yahweh Yireh, our Provider.

Sounds like us, doesn’t it?

None righteous, no, not one, right?

“But Noah found favor in the eyes of the Lord” (Genesis 6:8).

If there are none righteous, no, not one, how did Noah find favor in the eyes of the Lord?

To say that Noah “found favor” in the eyes of the Lord has always implied, to me at least, that Noah *did* something that caused God to look favorably on him.

Well, he was righteous, right? He made good choices (like I do). I bet it was Noah’s good choices that made God stand up and take notice, right?

This has always puzzled me. OT people going to heaven, unbelievers making good choices, my propensity to believe my actions, good or bad, have bearing on my purity or lack thereof.

Then our pastor explained an itty bitty (super gargantuan) detail that crystallized my murky vision. He said that in Genesis 6:8, the Hebrew word translated “favor” actually means “grace.” And the Hebrew word translated “found” actually means “appeared.”

Grace appeared to Noah in the eyes of the Lord. God decided to make grace appear in Noah’s life. God’s grace did not appear to Noah because Noah was righteous. Noah was righteous because God’s grace appeared to him.

And God made grace appear to Noah for a specific purpose. God’s purpose. Which was what?

To save the world.

God graciously imputed righteousness to Noah for God’s glory, for God’s purpose, for God’s kingdom.

It’s the same with you and me. We don’t receive favor from God because we do good things. We do good things because we have already received favor, or rather grace, from God.

And why did we receive grace from God? Because He loves us, yes. But it’s love with a purpose. His purpose. Which is what, again?

To save the world.

Are you getting this? Every good thing you do is a direct result of God’s grace having appeared to you. For His glory. To accomplish His plan to save the world.

Every good thing you do is righteousness that God allowes to be manifested in your life. That’s grace.

When I got what the pastor was saying, I cried happy, grateful tears for twenty minutes because suddenly, my life mattered. My mundane life of chores and snotty noses, fibro pain and hirsutism, joblessness and uncertainty… it all matters. And not just a little. It matters a lot. It matters in a cosmic, saving-the-world kind of way. Worth dying for.

And worth living for.

For the grace of God that brings salvation has appeared to all men. It teaches us to say no to ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright and godly lives in this present age, while we wait for the blessed hope—the glorious appearing of our great God and Savior, Jesus Christ, who gave himself for us to redeem us from all wickedness and to purify for himself a people that are his very own, eager to do what is good. ~Titus 2:11-14

I can plus apostrophe t, flag minus lag plus ind, me minus e plus y, sh plus oes.

Jeff and I don’t know why God has kept us in this place of material need for so long, but we have determined one verifiable fact:

Our need displays His splendor.

As we seek to follow after Christ, we are going to give Him glory by telling you about His provision in our lives. We’ve already done this to some extent, but we want to be more purposeful about it.

But first, a word about Yahweh Yireh. “Yahweh” is translated “Lord” and “Yireh” is translated “Provider”. A more common interpretation of the Hebrew which you may have heard is “Jehovah Jireh”. The phrase literally means “The Lord Will Provide”.

The term “reh” means “to see”. This communicates that Yahweh sees our need beforehand, and provides at the right time. The Lord WILL provide, meaning He already knows the need.

So not only does the name Yahweh Yireh speak to God’s ability and desire to provide, but it also describes His omniscience. There’s POWER behind His provision.

Two simple Hebrew words that take so many English words to explain!

Hebrew: Yahweh Yireh

Becky’s English: The Lord of the Universe knows everything. He sees all of the past, all of the present, and all of the future. He sees everything you will ever need. He will provide everything you will ever need.

This is God’s NAME. Get it? It’s not whimsy, based on your righteousness, which is like filthy rags anyway. It is His NAME. It is WHO HE IS. It is in HIS NATURE to provide for us.

Yahweh Yireh is two things to me:

1) Absolutely trustworthy. To distrust His provision is to say to Him, “No, that’s not really Your name.” It’d be like my saying, “Hi, I’m Becky,” and you replying, “No, you’re not.” Uhhhh… yes, I am. Lately, despite His obvious proof otherwise, I’ve been trying to tell Yahweh His name is not really Yireh. I’d like to stop arguing with Him about this.

2) The best, big, fat secret-keeper in the whole wide universe. Always “need to know” with Yahweh Yireh. I tell ya. But if He revealed His plan, I would stray. I know this. By keeping secrets from me, He keeps… me. He keeps me needing Him. And while my flesh rails against that reality, my spirit is actually perfectly, knowingly, contentedly safe in that place of need. Which is a total miracle.

I can’t wait to start sharing God’s specific provision with you.

I saw the little runt sittin’ there on a log
I asked him his name and in a raspy voice he said, “Yoda.”
Y-O-D-A Yoda
Yo-yo-yo-yo-yoooooh-da-aaaaah…

We’ll go back on Sunday night and take pictures of the completed 8 ft Yoda. You can see the beginning of him on the floor behind the boys.