Amy Writes

Do you know about this ? It's called My Free Music Friday, and guess what! On Fridays, they give you free music! 3 or 4 downloads each time. We've been introduced to some pretty good stuff. All they need is your email address, to remind you when it's Free Music Friday. And while you're at it, here's another site that gives free music. And here's a Christmas album by Andrew Peterson you can listen to online...I highly recommend the brilliance of Matthew Begats. And here's a band called Strive that will give you a free EP when you sign up to be friends. They're good...and compassion-minded. Hooray! Everyone wins.

Jim posted a link to a website entitled "Why doesn't God heal amputees?" . Here's my response - actually written a year ago. I've blogged before about being a hopeless patriot. Here's why: Last year, Rebecca and I were strolling through the breathtaking World War II Memorial in Washington, DC. She turned to say something to me and I had to wave her off through my tears - fearing that if I opened my mouth to answer I'd lose whatever control I had left and be reduced to a sobbing mess. My reaction to the Memorial didn't surprise me, because I could never even get through the Public Service Announcements when Tom Hanks begged the nation to raise money for a memorial honoring a "generation who did nothing less...than save the world." Geez, even just typing it I'm tearing up. Today would have been my grandfather's birthday. (85, I think) He was one of hundreds of thousands of that "generation who did nothing less than save the world.

Doing one of the things we do best, the Christian community has incited a panic over The Golden Compass, because it's about killing God. Agreed - Killing God is bad. But, here's the thing: it can't be done. The movie doesn't ACTUALLY kill God. Nothing will ever kill God. To my knowledge, bad things happen to people who live their lives trying to do it. And, as I read somewhere earlier, if kids could kill god, then he probably has it coming to him. But I digress. I would like to propose an alternative to the "Angry Christians on the Defensive" marketing plan: See Mr. Magorium's Wonder Emporium instead. Teach your kids to find the beauty in this story that mirrors the gospel in so many ways. Support the segment of the industry that is producing G-rated movies that embrace creativity and celebrate Wonder. Enjoy an hour and a half of silliness and innocence.

I was recently invited (again) to create a LinkedIn profile. The other day, a friend said I was the "hippest person she knew" because I had a blog. I must be off the charts cool now - with my new LinkedIn profile and all. What an interesting learning experience that was. Here's a brief explanation for those of you not LinkedIn: You put your resume online so everyone who is LinkedIn can see it. You find your friends who are LinkedIn, who then introduce you to relevant contacts who are also LinkedIn. I will never need this service. The interesting part was this: In my head, I am an experienced professional. I am wildly talented in many areas. When I decide to go back to work one day, all I will have to do is walk into an HR office and be handed an executive position. My experience canvasses several industries. I have worked well independently and as a team. At this moment, I am CHOOSING to stay home with my family and pick up projects as they present themselves. I control

Matt and I returned last night from a weekend in the Conch Republic. It never fails to amaze me that I can be just four hours from home and feel like I'm in another country. The Southernmost city in the United States yes, but South Florida it's not. I'm such a history geek - poor Matt was looking forward to a leisurely weekend in Key West, but I get antsy when history is nearby. On Saturday I dragged him to Fort Zachary Taylor, The Hemingway House AND The Truman Little White House (quite a highlight!). We stayed in a B&B, ate conch fritters and key lime pie and walked Duval Street a dozen times. Now, we're in the middle of a 36-hour layover at home before heading out again for Thanksgiving in Gainesville. Green bean casserole ingredients are packed and ready to go, but at least 3 loads of laundry remain. Chloe sits in front of me, playing "store" with her Thanksgiving books, while I try to figure out how to cut her wispy bangs without giving her a mullet.

Mom sat down next to me and held out this book. I'd asked her for something "gripping" to read and she returned with a few selections, but "This one...is different. Kind of depressing. But hang in there, get through it. Really interesting." I love mom's book descriptions. Her recommendations are always reliable, but I always start with the one she lays her palm on and starts reviewing with a disclaimer. Cormac McCarthy's The Road was no exception. It was different. It was depressing. And to add my own words: haunting, terrifying, beautiful, hopeful. Thought-provoking. Biblically relevant. Full of "what-ifs" that follow me around. Packed with the kind of imagery that adds depth to my perception of everyday things. The unfolding of the setting is the most powerful part, and I refuse to spoil it for you if you haven't read it. So read it, and let's discuss.

I am not an eloquent extemporaneous speaker. I get over-emotional. I stutter and add "um" and "like" and say stupid things that I don't mean in my efforts to circle around to what I do mean. If I come across half as bumbling and tongue-tied as I feel sometimes, then people must be wondering how I got that diploma that hangs so proudly on the playroom wall. The answer: I wrote my way through college, and oddly enough, the above scenario does not happen if I am in front of a large group of people. That random intro was to set up this bit of thought. A few weeks ago in small group, I attempted to explain to the girls what I was struggling with that week. I talked about raising my kids around affluence, and my disdain for the misused affluence I see everywhere right now, and the tension that comes with knowing that we are headed for an affluent lifestyle. I tried to get at the fear of crossing the line, turning wants into needs and misleading my kids. But I think i

I live in a crazy place . Most of the time, it's just wacky crazy. Not scary crazy. But yesterday , it was kind of scary crazy. Usually, I can sit back and watch from the outside and shake my head in disbelief. But yesterday police commandeered the entire county (including neighborhoods very close to home) searching for this guy whose life is so screwed up that his only option was to shoot the 76-year-old deputy who was taking him to the doctor. And parents all over town were forced to deal with it. "In an unprecedented move," all Broward County schools were placed on lockdown. This means different things on different campuses - as they all have their own policies. What it meant for the little Lutheran preschool on the corner was that kids happily playing on a very safe, very secure campus playground were hurriedly ushered inside when teachers heard the words: "MR. GREEN IS UPSTAIRS!" Problem is, teachers weren't the only ones who heard it. My 4 year old hea

Over the last year, I have realized that I am not made for the life I am living. Not that I am living the wrong life, but I am just not cut out for this. What hit me one day was that I was cleaning the high chair tray for the 3rd time, and that it would need to be done one more time before turning in for the night. 4 times a day, for the last year, and likely the next one. I clean that thing 4 times a day. As I was brushing the crumbs into the trash can and wiping it down for the 3rd time today, I had this incredible urge to throw it through the window. Not in anger, but more out of curiosity - like, "I wonder how far into the backyard I could get this thing?" I'd also swept and wet-mopped the family room that day, after embarking on a very messy glitter project with my daughter. The result was so unsatisfying and the feeling of the glitter and goldfish crumbs left by the baby while I was busy sweeping and wet-mopping was so disgusting that I donned my spa flip flops so t

James Woods is brilliant. I have very little interest in his show. It's just another crime drama. In fact, before last night, I couldn't tell you definitively when Shark was on. However, when I see a preview, I feel compelled to watch it. I will stay up late. I will be disappointed if I realize I've missed it. Last night I figured out why: I love to watch James Woods work. He is mesmerizingly good at what he does. Trance-inducing. Lackey-inspiring. Have you seen him do his thing? So natural, so subtle. Perfect delivery. Incomparable timing. With the exception of watching a lot of media over the years, I have very few credentials that allow me to critique the acting chops of Mr. Woods. I don't know if his technique is good, or where he studied, or if he'd hold his own as King Lear. All I need to know is that when he's on screen, I can't take my eyes off him because I don't want to miss something brilliant. I'm really glad he's not in a theater som

For what I want to do, I do not do... ...but what I do not want to do, THAT I do.

A few months ago, Eden saw a Wonder Woman costume in a catalog. She cut it out, glued it to a piece of paper and affixed it to the fridge - a constant reminder of her big Halloween plans. To our knowledge, she had never been introduced to Wonder Woman - she just knows a cool costume when she sees one. And it is a very cool costume. We tell her that (every day) when she puts it on. She looks fantastic, ready for anything. So on Friday, she was thrilled to wear it to school. Wrist shields, gold headband & belt were in place - though we swapped the red & white striped boot covers that slide down her legs for her awesome cowgirl boots, which don't slide down her legs. She didn't walk through the hall - it was a confident, boot-assisted strut. We opened the classroom door to see... 9 girls dressed as Disney Princesses. 3 Belles barricaded her at the door, having perfected the Mean Girl snarl that says, "Didn't you get the memo? This is the year of the Princess."