Amy Writes

I made up a new word! As you may know, I have a hard time paying attention during the service these days. I really do try, but when there are sermon notes calling me to play "fill in the blanks," I just can't help myself. It's like a churchy Mad Lib. Who can resist? Truthfully, I haven't allowed myself to get into making up funny answers - because, being my own biggest fan, I fear I will crack myself up and get to uncontrollable giggling and that, in my 30 years of maturity, is really what I concentrate my efforts to avoid each week. No, I honestly try to come up with the right answers before Pastor gets to them. I'm pretty good. Sometimes he throws a surprise in there for me, but most of the time, if I land on the right alliteration (all 'C's', for example) then I'm golden. Today, however, was not one of those days. He was all over the place. But, I was confident that I'd nailed the third blank: "Loneliness can deepen your ________....

I wanted my own blog. That's all. I had a myspace blog, but it's kind of a pain to log onto. I write on Back Porch Confessions, , but I can't post stuff like "look what I found on sale today!" over there. And we have the family blog, but because my children are so angelically beautiful, I keep that one private. (Let me know if you'd like an invite). So welcome to Amy Writes. I'm glad you're here. I'm going to post a bunch of old stuff (when I can't think of new stuff). I hope you'll comment, share your thoughts, play along. -Amy

(March 24, 2006) I'm sitting in this chair, watching my 9-month-old play on the floor. If you haven't spent much time around babies, don't worry - that's what they do. They play on the floor. All day long. When they're not eating or sleeping. Anyway, in my motherly opinion, this child wants for nothing. Within arms reach of her are any number of fantastic, brightly colored toys that blink, buzz, play music, squeak, do your taxes... but she insists on shunning them all in favor of tiny little pieces of lint from the carpet. No! I tell her. Stop it! I tell her. Lint is bad! Lint can kill you! Choking! Death! Look at your toys! Look at all I've given you! But she just looks up at me, smiles, waves, and starts searching for more lint. And I'm struck by how much my baby & I have in common. (outside of the obvious DNA similarities) I mean, isn't that the same interaction most of us have with God on a daily basis? God is shouting at us all day long - LOOK!...