I could write about how home school is going. I could tell you that if a word ends in "le", the last syllable grabs a consonant to go with it, and if the preceding syllable has a short vowel sound, it grabs a consonant, too. That is why "apple" has a double p and "dabble" has a double b, while a word like "ladle" has only one d. I tell ya, I wrote complicated papers on Shakespeare, and graduated with honors from the English department at Hope College, and yet I never learned this. It turns out that our language has a method to its madness. Huh.
I could write about Brave feeling better, but I am a little tired of talking about my son's bowel movements. I'm sure you are tired of reading about them.
I could write about my faith in CHR1ST, but I think I've been a bit too wide-open with my heart lately, and so I'll keep that to myself today.
I could update you on Glory, but there is nothing much to report. No news is usually good news. She fights for her life every day, and time passes faithfully, bringing new days behind it. I could update you on Xiao Fu, but again, nothing to report. Her brother fell into a crag and cracked his head on a rock. He died instantly, and a piece of his little sister died, too. We have not heard from her since.
Sometimes life is not like the word "apple" nor the word "idle." Sometimes we come across a word that has no rule, and we just have to accept it.
So instead of sharing the world's best pumpkin bread recipe that I got from Chad and Kristy last year, and instead of writing about how wonderful my husband is, and instead of telling you that Daniel and I have decided to give our unplanned, 5th child (who we are bound to have in our 40s) the name "Bronco," I will quote a dear friend of mine and leave her name anonymous:
"The days are becoming so difficult. We believers are being prepared for something."