It's not only a name

For those of you that thought "Taylor Trash" was just a cute little 'play on words' with our name....

Using the Force here at Taylor Trash

Our little Dane Luke is turning 5, and wants to ring in his birthday Star Wars style.

So we are knee-deep in Darth Vadar, r2d2, light sabers, and jedi training prep.   Should be a yoda fun. Get it? Yoda, instead of loada, or load of....

I crack myself up.

Invites....

My homemade stand-up in progress.  In this picture I haven't attached it to the cardboard yet.  I have to say I think it turned out really cool.  It's probably 6 ft tall.  I found a program that lets you turn any high res picture into a poster that you can print out in 8.5 X 11 sheets and put together like a puzzle.

the lonely

"Father to the fatherless, defender of widows, this is God, whose dwelling is holy. God places the lonely in families; he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy." Psalm 68:5&6

The American Dream....is not God's dream

Feeling restless tonight.  Once again I am all-consumed with the purpose of my life. 

In a nutshell, I am not okay with being a Christian living the "American Dream".  The words of the Bible are becoming more real and more literal to me every day.  My compassion for God's people, especially "the least of these" is growing at a rapid rate.  

As Christians I think we often sit back and admire others that have been called to do great things in the name of Christ.  I have often thought "if He called me to do that (insert any number of radical sacrifices), would I obey?" And it has only recently occurred to me that we have already been called.  We don't have to have an "ah-ha moment", or a "divine intervention" to follow what He has already asked us to do in His Word.  

Lately, I have literally been kept up at night thinking of the millions of orphans in the world.  I have been resting in the peace that we have not yet been "called" to adopt.  I assumed that God would hit me over the head with something tangible, showing me (us) that this was something we were to pursue.  

But if I truly want to be Christ-like, then my heart needs to bleed like His.  And my actions should reflect that.  

What more does He need to do than to write...

'Pure and genuine religion in the sight of God the Father means caring for orphans and widows in their distress and refusing to let the world corrupt you.' (James 1:27)

"But whoever has the world’s goods, and sees his brother in need and closes his heart against him, how does the love of God abide in him? Little children, let us not love with word or with tongue, but in deed and truth." (I John 3:17-18)

I am acutely aware of how blessed I am to be an American.   I realize that my life is a life of luxury to much of the world.  That my "humble" 1400 square foot house and the amenities within would be considered a vacation for millions.  And that is why I cannot shake this verse:

"To whom much is given, of him much will be required.” (Luke 12:38)

Because I have been given so much, I am expected to give much.  Sacrificially.  

My heart hurts.  I have not given much.  Not when thousands are dying daily for lack of clean water and food.  Not when millions of children are without a family to call their own.  

So where do I begin?  

"If you can't feed a hundred people, then feed just one." (Mother Teresa)

So I will start with just one.  

And as my passion grows I will try to remember.....

“It is not our job to convict the world, but to live as a convicted person.” (John Piper)

She's our star

But she also happened to be star of the week last week in her first grade class.  

We didn't have much direction on what to do.  I'm assuming the teacher sent something home at the beginning of the year, but since we're new to the class we didn't get it.  

Anyhow, we made a poster.  Okay, technically I made the poster, but Genevieve helped by filling in the little questionaires I made about her "favorites". 

***Hint- if you click on the pictures you can see them in more detail =)

We are entering sports, starting with tee-ball....

Dane is on the Little League Giants.  They don't keep score.  Every player has a turn at bat every inning.  They don't get "out".  They get to run a base at every hit.  

So it's pretty much not baseball at all.  But they get to wear the cute uniforms, swing a bat, and run.  Can't be all that bad.

Cute towel, wrong name

I decided to make a little hooded towel for our cousins new baby Grace Loren.  Only I thought her name was Loren Grace.  Notice the "L"?  

Bummer.

I need to make her a new towel. Not sure what to do with this one.  Don't think I have any friends expecting little girls whose name starts with "L" right now.  Maybe she will just get both.  And her parents can have a good laugh about it.

Soiled SUV

My friend Wendy is having a contest. A contest I should be embarrassed that I'm a contender in. But there is something liberating about airing your dirty laundry, or "Dirty DMV" (Dirty Mini Van). The one last cool factor that I still hold onto is the fact that I don't drive a minivan. Luke and I made a pact, even before we were married. There would be no minivan. Ever. Not to say I don't drool over the lower vehicles with automatic doors and whole slew of make-your-life-easier-with-small-children options. I do. But a pact is a pact. And to tell the truth I realize there is nothing cool about SUV's, unless you're a mom and you're proud that you held out from the minivan. Then you think you've still got an ounce of coolness left. But really you're just holding out on practicality.

I digress.

Back to the competition. I'm entering my Soiled SUV. Last week when Wendy announced her competition I was so bummed because I had just driven on a field trip so I had "cleared" out my SUV. Notice I didn't say "cleaned" out. Wendy replied "give it a week, and submit your pics". I thought, 'oh no, not this time. THIS time, I am keeping it free from junk. No more STUFF. I'm taking everything in every time I get home.' Well here we are 10 days later, and I'm a contender. And probably a pretty strong contender.

The pictures don't really do it justice, but here goes.
#1 - The dash - We've got a NKJV Bible, 3 diapers, 2 preschool projects, and a bunch of bandages/ointment for Zeke's newest burn.  Further down out of sight is a hat of Luke's.

#2 - The passenger seat.  Always the first to collect all the crap.  We have clothes I need to return to my SIL, about a weeks worth of mail (because that's how often I check our box at the end of the road), my giraffe purse, an empty lemonade container, another preschool project, and who knows what else underneath.  In the consol thingy is another diaper, an empty Hansen's can, a hair clip, mailbox keys, DVD remote, and probably some garbage.

#3 - The passenger seat floor - A McD's bag, a Toys R Us bag with a couple birthday gifts, and the backing to 200 postcard stamps.

#4 - the 2nd row - 1 jacket, 2 sweatshirts, a sweater, 2 teddy bears, a dance costume, an old (probably moldy) sippy cup, a pack of stickers and a lid to a missing cup.

The "trunk" of the car has actually been uneventful.  There are a couple pieces of cardboard for a project and a stroller.  Not Taylor style at all.

Luke wanted me to disclaim that he doesn't even like to to ride in my car.  I told him not too worry, as that seems to be the general rule with most husbands regarding the family car.  

It is, what it is....

when I grow up

Genevieve is 6 1/2.  Many days she tells me what she wants to be when she grows up. 

Today: "When I grow up I want to be a Professional Jump Roper."

Sweet.  I guess your dad and I should start building the little cottage in back that you will surely be living in when you are 45.  =)

And here she is being a monkey in her little jungle scene that she created.