"Are they twins?"

This is a picture of most of the women in the small group Ian and I meet with through our church. We took this in January. From left to right, J was 1 week from delivering her first baby, E was 2 months from delivery, M was 4.5 months from delivery, I was 6 months from delivery, and C on the end is still awaiting her highly anticipated delivery date. So by the time Bright Flower arrives, she will be joining 3 other infants. And that's on top of the 3 toddlers we already have in the group. Yes, we're a really fruitful group of people.

We've really enjoyed building community with the other couples in our small group. We've been focusing mainly on looking into Christian literature or the Bible for guidance in building healthy marriages (and families). But a fun thing has been watching the 3 toddlers build friendships for the half of their lives that they've been interacting on a semi-regular basis. And, of course, there's a side benefit. When your kid has two little friends he likes, whose parents you like and trust, it makes babysitting exchanges pretty easy to come by.

In the months before baby #2 and #3 of our second round of progeny arrived, Ian and I babysat for each set of parents so they could have some "date nights" before their infants came. Because the tots tend to tear up the house when we keep them at our home, we started taking them out to the Grove for dinner and a chance to see the fountain, the trolley, the live music... The thing that we have found to be endearingly funny is that more than once, with each of the two little girls we've babysat, passers-by have asked "Are they twins?" Each time, they've justified the question with a comment on how well the kids get along. I guess the ethnic differences aren't that obvious.

Here's Jackson with his twin, Alaina




And with his other twin, Harper




Pretty cute, aren't they?

Clarice

Ian's Father's Day "Card"

For Ian's second Father's Day, Jackson and I decided to dispense with the idea of a tangible present. Instead, we made a video greeting card.



I think Daddy enjoyed his card, along with his 2 hour afternoon nap.

Clarice

"I'll love you forever!"

I had to administer a final exam yesterday. Students had 1 hour and 50 minutes to complete a 71 question multiple-choice exam. At 15 minutes to the end of the exam time, there was just one student left in the room, struggling to respond to my erudite questions. All of a sudden, a student came running in, looking as frazzled as could be. She started off by apologizing profusely, saying that although she had set her alarm early enough to make the 8:00 AM start time, she just woke up. She said she hadn't even brushed her teeth yet, which is a serious issue to a dental student. Then she begged me to let her take the final exam. "If you let me take it," she exclaimed, "I'll love you forever". Those were the words I had been waiting to hear my entire academic career. I was so moved by her declaration that I made an exception in the usual academic proceedings to allow her to take her exam late.

Just kidding.

When I heard those words, I was a bit taken aback. I replied something like "I don't know if that's the issue" or "that's not really what I'm looking for here". I don't remember what I said. I just remember being surprised. I mean, give me some justification or tell me that you want the opportunity to demonstrate what you've learned or tell me that an event like this is not consistent with how you intend to practice professionally. But "I'll love you forever"? Why should that matter when the issue has nothing to do with our (heretofore nonexistent, except in a 1:100 ratio) relationship and everything to do with the requirement that students demonstrate that they have learned.

There's something different about this generation of students. I don't quite get it. As much as I love idea of being involved in the process of equipping people to be in positions of influence (yes, dentists are people of influence), I don't know if that's really what I'm doing. Quite frustrating at times.

OK. Venting over. Now it's time to finish grading assignments from that class. Until later....

Clarice

Growing up with Cousins

Jackson has a little cousin who is 3 months older than he is. This is Jackson and Kaitlyn last July when they were 17 and 20 months.


Unfortunately, since they live in Florida, we only get to see them about twice a year if we're lucky (blessed) enough. It's been a bit sad to be so far from his closest cousins. Because I have a large extended family, Jackson has tons of second cousins and third cousins and kids we consider family although no blood ties are involved at all. And of course, he has dog cousins also. So he hasn't been deprived of the kind of huge family events I had growing up with my 23 first cousins and innumerable second cousins. But we're sad we don't get to see Jackson grow up alongside Ian's brother's kids.

But Bright Flower will have a local cousin to grow up with. My brother and sister-in-law are expecting their first child 6 weeks after Bright Flower is due. They live about a mile from us so theoretically we should be able to see them more often than we do the other cousins. Of course, they're planning to move around the time the baby is born. Something about LA not being a great place to raise a kid (as if the OC is going to be that much better!!).

It's been fun going through pregnancy with my sister-in-law. I didn't get this experience with my other sister-in-law when she was expecting Kaitlyn. We didn't know we were pregnant when our families got together when Becky was 4 months pregnant and baby cousin Kaitlyn was 6 weeks old the next time we saw them when I was 7 months pregnant.

But Amy and I have been able to do some side by side comparisons. Here's some footage of our belly profile comparisons (and some bonus footage of Jackson shot on Mother's Day).



Clarice

all-you-can-eat seafood buffet

Today the family went to Todai to celebrate Jackson's grandfather Gung-Gung's birthday, pictured here with Clarice and Tai-Poh.Here's a candid of Uncle Randy and Aunt Amy racing through a pile of crab legs before Jackson notices.And here is Jackson with his grandmother Poh-Poh taking time out to look at the camera but not to stop eating those yummy mushrooms. Jackson loves shrimp and "crabbie-crabbie" ever since Gung-Gung shared Alaskan King Crab legs with him at Christmas. What was he thinking? He's only two and eats like a king. While Jackson did not finish everything on that plate, he did devour a whole plate of fruit until his belly button actually popped out a bit and we had to cut him off. Then he ran about half a mile (literally 2500 feet) inside the restaurant and visited with many customers. We love all-you-can-eat Todai.

Jackson's Inventiveness

Jackson has a unique, creative, fresh view of the world and he expresses it in fun ways with his limited vocabulary and understanding of grammar. For instance, he has recently started making words plural even if they are already plural. When he wants mommy to sing him to sleep he calls out; "I want songses."

Pictured is Jackson's latest creation: "I made a taxi."

And my favorite is when he wanted more Parmesan Cheese on his spaghetti: "I want more cheese waterfall."

Ian

Peek-a-boo

Children go through phases of learning and one of them, I've heard, involves the understanding that when an object can't be seen, it's not necessarily gone. Hence the game of peek-a-boo helps kids learn object permanence; that when he covers his eyes, the playmate within eyesight did not disappear, but the vision was blocked by the hands.

A few weeks ago Jackson and I went to a pool party and I was diving and flipping into the water. Each time I would swim immediately for the surface and look to Jackson to see if he was impressed by my gymnastics move. However, Jackson's reaction was not what I expected. He would cry every time I jumped in the water. Apparently, Jackson didn't like seeing his daddy disappear under the water.

A couple weeks ago I went bungee jumping with some friends at the Bridge to Nowhere (bungeeamerica.com). Last week in Atlanta, I was showing my family the video we shot. Jackson was enjoying the video until I dove off the bridge toward the water 150' below. Suddenly, Jackson burst into tears event though I was right next to him and holding him. Apparently, Jackson doesn't like his daddy doing stunts.

I'm glad my boy doesn't want his daddy to disappear or fall off bridges. But I'm going to wait a few more years before showing Jackson my stunt reel.

Ian

Canadian-American

Today I passed the U.S. Citizenship test and was approved to become an American. If you didn't know, I was born in Toronto. I've always considered myself a North American. Canada is part of America, right? So after my TBD future swearing in ceremony, I will officially become a Canadian-American. Oh, I also have my Irish passport, so that will make me an Canadian-Irish-American.

However, part of the Oath of Citizenship that I will take contains these words; "I hereby declare, on oath, that I absolutely and entirely renounce and abjure all allegiance and fidelity to any foreign prince, potentate, state, or sovereignty of whom or which I have heretofore been a subject or citizen." In the words of the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) Manual for Citizenship; "If you take this oath in true faith you are a true citizen of the United States of America. You are not an Italian-American. You are not a Spanish-American. You are not a German-American, nor any other kind of a hyphenated American. YOU ARE AN AMERICAN. There is no prouder title than 'Citizen of the United States of America.' It is now yours. YOU ARE AN AMERICAN."

Going through the naturalization process reminded me why this country is the best country in the world. As President George W. Bush says in the welcome video, "America has never been united by blood or birth or soil. We are bound by ideals that move us beyond our backgrounds, lift us above our interests and teach us what it means to be citizens. Every child must be taught these principles. Every citizen must uphold them. And every immigrant, by embracing these ideals, makes our country more, not less, American."

I'm almost there...a true American. I look forward to my increased privileges and duties. But, I'll always have fond feelings for Canada and Ireland.

Ian

Outed at 28 weeks

Among the things I had heard about second pregnancies was the idea that I should get bigger faster than the first. I was fully expecting to be huge really early, but it didn't really happen. For the first few months I was pretty much on the same weight gain curve that I was with Jackson. That meant I didn't really start showing until about the fifth month of pregnancy. People who knew could tell that I was showing, but there were certainly plenty of people who I didn't know well enough to include in my news-breaking circle. I'd catch these folks stealing furtive glances at my belly and then avoiding eye contact because they didn't want to have to ask if I was pregnant and be caught in an embarrassing error. But I can say that it was at 28 weeks when I grew to a size to be clearly pregnant.

See, I meet with a group of 6 other faculty members every other week. We've been meeting since September, as part of a Medical Education Fellowship. In the beginning, I didn't tell them that I was pregnant mainly because I didn't feel like we ever had an appropriate moment to announce something like that without sounding self-aggrandizing. And then at about the point that a room full of doctors should have recognized that certain anatomical changes were taking place, I decided to just see how long it took them to notice. Finally, at 28 weeks of pregnancy, when I clearly no longer fit into normal clothes, and strangers would walk up to me and rub my belly, one of my colleagues smiled broadly at me in class and asked when I was due. It was kind of funny to hear the other two women exclaim, "I thought it might look like you were pregnant, but I didn't want to say anything." And even funnier to hear the one guy (whose wife just delivered their first baby) say, "Oh. I really don't know how I didn't notice".

Altogether, it's been an interesting sociocultural experience to see how people respond to my growing belly. By the way, I am now growing bigger faster than I did with Jackson. I think my last two weeks of weight gain put me a few weeks from where I was when I delivered Jackson. I can't believe I still have 9 more weeks to grow. When this one comes, I'm going to look like a python after swallowing a small animal.


Clarice

My Grandma

My grandma celebrated her 95th birthday in February. She's quite an amazing woman with fascinating stories. She was born in China, and chose to leave her Buddhist traditions to follow Jesus as a youngster despite the vehement disapproval of her family. She fled to Hong Kong when the Communists came, just a few days after delivering her first child, my father. She worked as a teacher (Bruce Lee was one of her students) and elementary school principal when few women held full-time jobs. She sent all four sons to the US to study, then uprooted herself at the age of 59 when my grandfather decided to join the sons (and the first grandson) in the US. She learned English, learned how to navigate public transportation in Los Angeles, then in New York. But what's really remarkable is her selflessness. She always thinks of others, to the point where it's almost annoying. She has endeared herself to her 7 grandchildren with her good humor. Here's a picture of her 10 years ago (at 85), good-naturedly letting her two grandsons play dress up with her.


I admire her longevity, clear-mindedness, humility, and good humor. But last week, I was caught entirely by surprise by her adaptability. My aunt told me that she was learning to use email (at 95!). So I sent her an email to see what would happen. Here's her reply to my invitation to a Mother's Day dinner.


Of course, I can only read my name, a few words like "you" and "I" and "thank you", but I'll probably email her again just for the novelty of receiving an email from my grandma. Ain't she something?

Clarice

Look who's learning to use the potty

Ian's latest job

Remember this show from the 70's?



And remember these guys?



This is the modern day update as reported by USA Today.


Yep, that's Ian's work outfit. I wonder what casual Fridays will look like.

Clarice

Come down and play

We recently moved Jackson to a "big boy bed". We thought it would be wise to make the crib available for Bright Flower significantly in advance of when she needed it so that Jackson wouldn't have issues about his sister invading his space. We actually set it up the bed about two weeks in advance of when we intended to start using it. We wanted him to get used to seeing it in his room. Plus, it gave us two weeks to talk up how since he had his happy birthday he was now a "big boy" and should have a big boy bed. It turns out we didn't need to talk it up. He was dying to sleep in his new bed (somehow he knew it was for him the day we set it up).


Moving him to a "big boy" bed (with no restraints to getting out independently) meant some changes in our nighttime routine. We used to sit on the floor with him in one of our laps after his bath and pajama change and read him a book. Then we would have him turn on the hall light and turn off his room light and we would hold him for his nighttime prayers before putting him in his crib. The new bed changed all that. We realized that he needed some time in his bed before turning the lights out. So now, after changing into pajamas, we turn on a dim bedside light, have him climb into his bed himself and read him his bedtime story while he sits in his bed. It was Ian's idea to have him then kneel on the side of his bed for nighttime prayers before turning off the lights and tucking him back into bed. As soon as the lights are out, we remind him of the "sleeping rules" - stay in your bed, close your eyes, be quiet, and go to sleep. We especially remind him of the need to stay in his bed. When we first switched to the toddler bed, we had decided on a three strikes and you're out policy. If he comes out, we quickly return him to his bed. But if he comes out a third time, he goes back to his "baby" bed. We've only had to return him to his crib twice. Now he gets the idea after one warning.

So we were so surprised a few days ago when, after reading his book, he pointed to the floor and said "come down and play". He was actually bold enough to start moving to the side of the bed before we reminded him of the sleeping rules. The next night, he tried again, "come down and play, daddy, come down and play, mommy". Again, we sternly reminded him of the sleeping rules and kept to our routine. It happened again last night. This time Ian was only half-way through his bedtime book when Jackson closed it and said "All done. Come down and play." He pointed to the floor and started moving to the side of the bed. We reminded him that he was supposed to stay in his bed and he said, "I wanna play. Play." Then he put his hands together and said "Dear Got." We finally realized that he wasn't asking to come down and play. He was asking to come down and pray. Warmed the cockles of our hearts. Now we just have to hope that Jackson grows out of his Chinese accent before he hits public school.

Clarice

Oh Jesus!

A couple of months ago, Jackson and I were driving home and I heard him exclaim, "Oh Jesus!" I wasn't sure what he was trying to communicate. He said it so explosively I was kind of wondering if he had heard someone else using the Lord's name in vain and was just copying them. I asked him why he said "Oh Jesus," but he really didn't have a cogent explanation for me.

Then a few days later, we were driving home again and I heard him shout it again. "Oh! Jesus! Jesus!" This time I looked back to see him gazing out the window and pointing. I personally didn't see any hint of Jesus, but I remembered hearing that little children sometimes had a heightened spiritual awareness. I started wondering if my boy had been seeing visions of the risen Christ that I was missing out on because of my jaded sensibilities. That led to dreaming of what kind of prophetic gifts Jackson might have that would impact the world. So I thought I would be like Mary, mother of Jesus, and "treasure up all these things and ponder them in my heart." When we got home, I told Ian what had happened, that twice we had been driving and Jackson shouted out "Oh Jesus!" He had a bemused look on his face and said that it had happened when he was driving with Jackson also. Then he asked me if it occurred on San Vicente just past Wilshire. Why, yes, that's exactly where we were both times it occurred. Hmm, we both wondered.

A few days later, I came home after Ian had picked up Jackson. He had a huge grin on his face. He told me that he had figured out why Jackson had been shouting out about Jesus. It turns out there is a statue on the side of the street that neither of us had noticed. And to be quite honest, the statue looks quite a bit like the Jesus we see in the Bible picture books that we have been reading to Jackson at night.


Apparently, even a green man with a beard and longish hair can pass for Jesus in toddler world.

Clarice

New Haircut

Jackson's hair has been really, really slow to grow. He didn't have his first haircut until he was 14 months old. And that was just two little snips of the bilateral locks that were making him look a little bit like a Hassidic Jew (except for the part where he doesn't look Jewish at all). The next two haircuts were spaced 5 months apart and only took place because the hair on the back of his head would be nappy and tangled in the morning when he woke up. So for the past month, we'd been contemplating doing the Chinese thing. In China, they crop the hair of the little kiddies (even the little girls) so that they're cooler in the summer, but also to stimulate new hair growth. And some midwesterners we know follow the Farmer's Almanac to determine periods of time when haircuts will also accelerate new hair growth (hey there, Bob and Lis!!).

It turned out to be an easy haircut. We just got out the clippers, put in the number 3 guard and buzzed away. Of course, I did the pediatric dentist "tell-show-do" thing. I told him about the clippers. I showed him how tickly it was on his arm. And then I did it. And of course, we planned other distractions. He was sitting on his potty chair in front of a mirror, set up with his favorite book set (from great-Aunt Linda, thank you!!). He still cried most of the time I was cutting. It's all documented on miniDV, courtesy of his documentarian daddy. But when I was all done, he agreed with me that he looked very "han-sum".

Nesting

I had heard about nesting when I was pregnant with Jackson. One website I visited defines it as "an uncontrollable urge to clean one's house brought on by a desire to prepare a nest for the new baby, to tie up loose ends of old projects and to organize your world". I don't recall experiencing that at all when I was pregnant with Jackson. But then again, I was focusing on tying up loose ends at work so that I could be home for 3 months.

But Monday, the nesting instinct hit hard. I had brought home lots of work to do once Jackson fell asleep, since Ian was working that night. I had grades to enter for last quarter, a new quarter to plan for, a homework assignment for a class I'm taking. But none of that mattered that night. We had bought a new "big boy bed" for Jackson and I was bound and determined to rearrange his room to accommodate the new bed. As soon as we got home, I spent an hour sweeping and dusting his room. Then I threw together a not-too-nutritious but quick meal for us, bathed him, and tried to get him to join me in rearranging his furniture (not too successful). I was so determined to finish the task that night that I kept working after his lights out, using the dim glow of the hallway light to illuminate my work. He managed to fall asleep an hour later than normal as I worked around him. And finally, after four hours of toil, I was satisfied.

It was a rather alarming feeling. I really couldn't think of anything else but finishing up his room. Nothing could deter me...not dinner or even his bedtime. Whatever I've read about nesting indicates that it's an instinct. And, wow, what a powerful one. At least by Tuesday, I finally felt ready to return to my required work....although I never finished that homework assignment.

Anyone else have any crazy nesting stories?

Clarice

Boogers

We are realizing that we can track Jackson's developmental milestones (and social awareness) through his response to boogers.

For his first year and a half of life, he was pretty clueless about the presence of nasal emissions of any sort. Case in point, this video clip from when he was 17 months old:



Then around 20 months of age, he suddenly became aware of his boogers...especially the runnier variety. If he sneezed out an abundance of snot, he would cry. But he wouldn't do anything about it. Well, that's not true. Occasionally, he'd unintentionally smear it all over his hands and face. Or he would burrow into our shoulders, leaving some interesting remnants on our clothing (the mark of parenthood...at least it's not spitup any more).

Then around the 22 month mark, he started showing some initiative at taking care of snot, at least. If he sneezed, he would say "Iwan kleenex. Iwan tissue. Iwan blow de nose." And we'd know to help him wipe off the offending fluid.

Now at 25 months, he's officially entered into familiar toddler realm. He can clearly discern between the wet stuff and the dry stuff. The other day, as we were driving, I noticed a prolonged break in his normal commentary about the same sights we see every day on the way home. He was clearly concentrating on something. Then he piped up from his carseat in back, "Mommy, look! A booger!" He held out his finger for me to see (you wouldn't believe how large some of these things can get, coming from such small individuals). I asked him if he needed a tissue and started scrounging around the car for a scrap of paper while trying to navigate the streets of Beverly Hills. Then I heard his triumphal declaration, "I eat it!!" Sure enough, his finger was clean as a whistle. Well, I guess that's better than having it inadvertently wiped on me.

Clarice

Easter in the Holy Land

I recently got hired on a movie that was shooting in Jordan. That's right, the middle east. When I realized I was going to be away from home for Easter, my initial thought was "how inconvenient."

That's until I realized that Jordan is home to many locations in the Holy Land. The Israelites traveled from Egypt to the Promised Land through Jordan. Jesus was baptized in Jordan.

Suddenly, the reality of spending Easter in the Holy Land hit me. How cool is that?! And even better, there were a handful of Christ-followers on the crew and "lo and behold"an ancient Olive grove just below our hotel in Petra.

So, five of us had an awesome church experience reading through the four Gospel accounts of Easter and marveling at God's work throughout history. Where two or more are gathered in His Name, God the Holy Spirit is there with us. It was a really awesome experience.

God is good. All the time. He is risen indeed!
Ian

P.S. Check back soon for a picture of us in the Olive grove.

He's Risen Indeed!

It's Easter today. Well, actually, it's almost over, but I still want to commemorate the event. I blogged a few weeks ago about how I usually like to try to prepare my heart and mind to celebrate Easter because I think it's such a significant event. To be quite honest, I ended giving up on my fast. It wasn't realistic because it actually put a burden on Ian for me to keep an 11:00 PM bedtime. I think next year I'll have to pick something more realistic that will come with more consistent reminders of the meaning of sacrifice (but we're going to try for an 11:00 PM bedtime anyway just as a good habit). At any rate, I had a hard time focusing on the arrival of Easter this year. Maybe it was because it came earlier in the year than it usually does or maybe it was because Ian and I have been alternating being either really busy or really sick.

So Good Friday came and went and I didn't really think much about it. But on Saturday afternoon I read a post by my dear friend Faetryn and remembered beyond Easter. Her post reminded me that on that fateful Friday, there was pain and suffering. I had been thinking a bit about the brutality of the punishments of those days. See, Ian is working on a movie that involves the stoning of an individual. He'd been telling me about the emotional impact and the brutality of just pretending or making it seem like the punishment is real for the sake of a movie. And the reality of Christ's suffering started to sink in.

Thus I went to church this morning for Easter Sunday thinking about the reality of Jesus' pain and suffering on our behalf. But our site pastor, Goodie, spoke on "Beauty." I missed the complete content of the message because there wasn't child care for the service I attended and Jackson isn't so good at sitting still or keeping quiet, keeping me on my toes the entire message. But I saw the video I've posted below (because Jackson loves "TV" and watched as intently as I did). The piece was accompanied by a live string ensemble and followed by a live dance piece. And it spoke to me, as it has every time I've seen it. It reminded me of the love that Jesus' sacrifice demonstrated and the beauty it embodied. I guess that's why I'm not so into the crucifixes that have Jesus hanging on them. I much prefer the simple cross adornment. Because, sure, Jesus suffered and died to pay the penalty for humankind's penchant for making the destructive choices that separate us from a perfect and holy God. But He didn't stay dead, so I don't want to just focus on that. He rose to life on the third day, demonstrating His power over sin AND death, offering us the opportunity to reconcile with Him...and to live beautiful lives.

He is risen indeed!



Clarice

A really, really good day

February and most of March were really, really hard. For some reason, our budget broke down and we had to tap deeply into our emergency savings fund. I had a ton of work deadlines that came with some seriously high expectations. The workload was bad enough that I dragged my computer along with me on our anniversary trip. I spent most of the drive and the first few hours in the hotel working on one of my projects so that we could enjoy the rest of our weekend without interruption. And for whatever reason during that busy period, Ian had activities several nights a week that left me alone with Jackson's night-time routine (and, of course, no time to work). Then when my deadlines were mostly met, Ian got super busy. He went into pre-production on two different short films, one of which took him out of town the day after I came down with a wicked illness that took me out of work for a few days due to fever, chills, body aches. Being alone with Jackson for two days meant I gave him whatever I had, which was multiplied to four days of fever, restless nights, loss of appetite, and diarrhea. In the midst of all that, Ian started to think that a big job that was supposed to come through in April wasn't going to happen AND he got called to go to Jordan (as in the Middle East) with two days notice for a really great work opportunity (that would keep him there for two and a half weeks).

So here I was a couple of Mondays ago, pregnant (with occasional lingering bouts of nausea), sleep-deprived from pushing toward work-deadlines, post-flu, caring for a mid-flu toddler (who can't go to daycare), thinking about sending my husband away for two and a half weeks. I was thinking that it was a really, really bad time of life. And I prayed for some type of divine intervention. Then Tuesday morning came. I had taken Jackson to class with me since he still had a fever and couldn't go to daycare. He was sitting there talking REALLY loudly while my students were trying to make their end of the quarter final presentations. Ian walked in to pick up Jackson. He had a big grin on his face. He told me that his two and a half week trip to Jordan had been postponed for a week (and shortened) and that the job he thought he had lost was now confirmed to start after he was scheduled to return from Jordan. Suddenly, I was thinking that it was a really, really good day. A little grace - a job that will probably pay quite well for Ian (with what sounds like a reasonable schedule). A little mercy - the postponement and shortening of his out of town gig. Amazing what the two combined can do to your spirit. Oh, and then that evening I got an email from a colleague praising one of the projects I had been working on. Grace upon grace.

Things have still been quite hectic. But all I needed was one day with a little grace and a little mercy just to change my perspective on things. And so the days since then haven't necessarily been really, really good, but they sure haven't felt as bad as I might have thought without a reminder that God is gracious and merciful and certainly willing to intervene.

Clarice