Picture of the Week: For Delivery

Brian continues to remind me that although these surroundings seem ordinary to me after a while of living here, there are still many things that may seem odd or funny to others.



This may be one of them.

In this country, you can get anything delivered. Anything. I get my groceries delivered. The milk man comes to my neighbors' every morning. I had a pair of dress socks for Brian delivered once. There is usually no extra charge besides the customary 50 cent tip.

And almost everything is delivered on motorcycles. Lots of riders wear backpacks stuffed with orders. Other bikes have coolers or hotboxes on the back.

There is a man in our neighborhood who delivers fish from his bicycle. He doesn't have a cooler. You can pretty much smell him coming. Maybe I'll get a picture of him next time. 

Lydia's Ballet Recital

Lydias ballet recital full from Brian Stock on Vimeo.

Lydia's "Bee"-Day

She's five! 

Her birthday fell on a Friday this year, so we got to have a bumble bee 19-kid-strong party the day of. She has a nurturing and adventurous love for lizards and other creatures in our garden. She loves books, princesses, art, dressing up (for real and pretend), her scooter, running, making her sisters laugh, helping Mommy, candy and hosting parties. Lydia makes up songs about seasons, if she were an ice cream (she'd eat herself all up), Isabella's cuteness and Jesus. She is my second favorite introvert, my little sidekick, my beautiful sweet daughter. 

A few pictures from the big day:

Helping Teresa clean up before the party. 

The Queen Bee

These outfits only lasted the first 20 minutes...but they were cute anyways

Bee on a spoon relay...epic!

Check out Brian's socks

My best attempt at bee stripes. Yes, I know it's crooked. 

Picture of the Week: Bump

They've torn up the road adjacent to our apartment. This manhole cover was propped up and a huge mound is surrounding it. Finally someone had the decency to put this "bump" warning sign in the hole (yes, IN the hole).

The picture does not do this justice.

Picture[s] of the Week: Christmas!

A smattering of Christmas pictures

 Christmas dresses on three beautiful girls

 I mean, what is this cuteness?

 Our building's Christmas party (hosted by neighbors upstairs) attended by mostly people who do not actually celebrate Christmas. 

 Let's get this party started!

 "Candy Cane Bread" our traditional Christmas morning breakfast

 Yes, we got Molly a potty for Christmas. Don't judge. 

 Bella is psyched by these teething rings

 Santa Brian passing out gifts

 Cranberry lotion from my girls. Yes!

 Church kids perform "Away in a Manger" (Here they are the "cattle lowing")

 She wanted a baby you could bath with REAL water

 The most-favorite...scooter. 

Helping Daddy build a play-house

When Helping Hurts

This post is not about that book, although I like it and it's very helpful for this context. It's about a certain two year old. It's an open-letter prayer of sorts, for her and MYSELF!

Molly, you are such a little helper. Almost to a fault...but as a two-year old, you are just figuring this out. You want to help me cook. You want to open the door. You want to put on your own shoes, take off your own shirt, run and get a toy for Isabella, tell Daddy it's dinner time...and you want to do it "MYSELF!".

Most of these things are actually really helpful and good. But sometimes, I open the door, Lydia beats you to the toy-basket and you just can't get your shoes on. You are determined to help and when you can't...Molly meltdown.

I know...you're two. So, here's what I pray for you. I pray you would be a helper, a selfless type of go-getter, a servant, a good friend, wife, sister and daughter who loves to serve the church, community, home, and others. I pray God shows you how to use your gifts for His kingdom and gives you opportunities to do so.

And when He doesn't (or it seems like He isn't) and you don't get to help the way you wanted to, or the way you "always get to", or in the way you thought was best for everyone; I pray you turn to the Lord. And I mean that practically, realistically, wholly and purposefully. I know, at age 20, you probably won't be prone to throw yourself on the ground and scream "MYSELF!"...but you might feel that frustration, that pride, hurt, injustice even. After a while of that you may not want to be helpful after all. It may be too hard or hurtful or boring.

I get that, Molly.

You may look like Daddy, but you are showing my personality. Sorry kiddo. I have used the "it's just a waste of my gifts" line. I have gotten frustrated watching others do a sub-par-helper job. I could have helped so much better! I want to throw myself on the ground when my help goes unnoticed, unappreciated and maybe (maybe?!) isn't so helpful after all. I have found ways to serve selfishly.

I pray that as you grow you would grow in your desire to serve, but more so in a desire to be used by the Lord. When things break down (and maybe you do too) you wouldn't just "get back out there and serve some more!". I pray you would humbly ask the Lord where He would have you? In the kitchen? Up front? Serving in the nursery? Writing? Reading stories to three little girls in India? Where will He use you? Where will He bring joy? I ask our Great God to mold you to be more like His plans for you.

A helper suitable for Him.  

The Conversations We Have

Recently I saw someone post an article about "Things you just know when you live in Atlanta". You know, like the Varsity and ITP/OTP.

I was thinking what that list would look like if I wrote it for here. There's lingo, thinking through problems, things taken for granted about living here. I think it would sound odd if I just stepped back for a moment. Here is a sampling of some conversations:

"Do you think these blue [Christmas] lights will show our neighbors we support Krishna?"

"Did you get the water in the bowl up front to baptize Isabella?"
"Yes."
"Is it clean or dirty?"
"Um, dirty. But why does it matter?"
"...I don't know. But don't you think we should at least use filtered water for baptizing?"

"Ok, so turn down the road that is just past the rock quarry. Go about 100 meters. There will be a tree and usually a cow standing there. Turn right. Go past the goats. We are on the left just before that really big pot hole."

"Are you poopy?" (I'm not saying this unique to our country...just our stage of life!)

"Sweetie...watch out for that cow/donkey/dog/old man/auto driver/pot hole/goat herd!!"