I have written a poem for him to help celebrate his splendor, and it goes like this:
ODE TO MATT
You've been my own nurse hot-line
for a couple years at least
And now you are official,
with scripture hair (like fleece).
I guess you know I'm proud of you
for being Super Smart
And wondering if you'll charge me now
or make me smell your fart?
I just can't call you 'Matt' no more
It has to be R.N.
Or maybe 'Uuurnn,' I like that best
(at phonetics I'm a ten!).
For a guy who used to beat me up
I sure like you a lot.
Now your hard work is finally done --
You've earned a tator tot!
Congrats, Urn! Love you!
I am eating baby corn right now, because they are Olivia's new food of passion. I always like to nibble around it first, ala teeny tiny corn on the cob. I love baby corn. I am happy to say I am teaching my children to appreciate the classics.
And to wax philosophical at this the Thanksgiving season, yesterday I had an incredibly white and black contrast experience to further illustrate to me the importance of making choices. I had in my conversation two beautiful young women. One was making tragic, end-game type of choices. The other was making choices that will ensure her best chances for a happy life. The first is already miserable. The second is full of hope for the future. And it broke my heart. In fact, it almost shattered it. Because I had to speak the words that came from deep within me, but I don't know if they were enough. I might never know if they were enough.
But I have hope that someone stronger, better, more merciful, and truly Mighty to Save will be able to eventually help her to see that His arm is always open to her. No. Matter. What. And I know from personal experience that He is always, always enough.
Here's Livi when she got back from church and playing at Uncle Jonnie and Aunt Trina's while Mom was at meetings:
Oh happy, happy Sabbath day rest!