We've all heard the saying, "Out of the mouths of babes", but when your seven year old daughter runs around cheering that she finally got alcohol and went to the bars, that saying takes on a whole new meaning.
​     It all started when she and my mom were watching a "how-to" video from some girl in Sweden.  It was a cute take on how to make your own tie-dye shirts by using permanent markers to draw a design, then simply spraying the fabric with rubbing alcohol to make the colors bleed.  Adorbs.  
​     The Swedish girl referred to the rubbing alcohol throughout the video, simply as 'alcohol' and by the end, Lauren Elizabeth was running around the house searching for it.  "I need alcohol!  Where do we have alcohol?!"
​     This in and of itself was funny to me (not my husband) but things only got worse, when mom took her to the store to get some. By the time they came back, our daughter burst through the front door screaming, "GRAMMIE GOT ME ALCOHOL!" 
​     If you know my mom, the irony of this is not lost on you.  My mom wouldn't take a drink to save her life, so much so, I often wonder if she actually came off the Mayflower as a Pilgrim.
​     By now I'm falling over as my husband is near coronary status and Mom's chasing after her calling, "Rubbing alcohol!  It's RUBBING alcohol, Dear!"
​     The only thing better?  In gymnastics she got to go to her favorite...the parallel bars.
​     Falling asleep last night, her tired eyes smiled as she mumbled, "I'm so happy I got alcohol and finally got to go to the bars.  I can't wait to tell my friends at school." 
​     I'll be waiting for the call from her teacher.  XO     

    We've recently had friends and family go through impossibly difficult times.
​    "Why?" Is the first question that runs through my mind and the second, although I hate to admit it, is - "How does God allow such bad things to happen to good people?"
​    It's an age old question that's pretty much an overwhelming concept, but is there an answer? 
​     A friend from work has a brother who is the minister of a beautiful old church in Charlotte, North Carolina.  Her brother has known his calling for many years and before their mother passed from cancer two decades ago, she gave him her Bible to keep and use to spread love in this world.  He's held onto that Bible along with his own, cherishing them both, everyday since. 
​     That same church recently caught on fire.  Flames engulfed the massive walls, eventually burning it to the ground.  The congregation gathered, but couldn't stop it.  They knew God wasn't in the structure or the building, but why?  Why did it have to happen? 
​     Through heartache, sweat and tears, they began clearing the remains with the spirit of regrowth and rebirth. 
​     In the midst of all the destruction, piles and piles of burnt, charred debris, what do you suppose they found?  Two bibles, one his and one their Mother's that he's held dear his entire life.  My friend Sarah showed me a picture of the two and I couldn't believe my eyes.  In all of that damage, the entire building destroyed through the intensity of heat and flames, how was it possible that two books made of paper remained, perfectly untouched? 
​     Did God allow the destruction?  Did He allow the despair caused to so many who have gathered in that place for generations?  Why wouldn't He stop it from happening?
​     I don't know. 
​     What I do know, is that God was still there. 
​     In the middle of the darkest times, the worst times of our lives when it seems everything is literally falling and burning down around us, He's there.  Reminding us to trust in Him no matter what the reason, even if we can't possibly begin to understand.
​    He is there with us with a love that's impossible to destroy.