Jean and I love to camp with our boys. Last week we pitched our tent, hiked, played ball, cooked dinner in the fire pit, and then hit the sack for what was to be a restful night. After all, we had perfect sleeping weather—the kind of Rocky Mountain cool air that produces a refreshingly deep rest. One problem. A rather hungry black bear decided to hunt around for a midnight snack just one campsite over from our tent.
Jane Lane, a “racial equality advocate,” published a new book this week in which she suggests a link between a toddlers reaction to foreign foods and possible future racist attitudes. In Young Children and Racial Justice: Taking Action for Racial Equality in the Early Years, Jane believes society should pay closer attention to children “who react negatively to a culinary tradition other than their own by saying ‘yuck.’”
Why? Jane believes such nose-thumbing at ethnic food could be an early indicator that your baby is a racist.
Nancy introduced herself to me as a “gender-queer lesbian” after reading my post, Not In My Shower regarding Colorado Gov. Ritter’s signing of SB200 into law. In case you didn’t hear, SB200 is a bill that has stripped men, women, boys, and girls of their privacy in a locker room, a shower, or a bathroom by permitting members of the opposite sex, as well as cross-dressers, transsexuals, bisexuals–or people who are just curious about their sexuality–to use whichever restroom, locker room, or shower that they like.
Believe it or not, that’s an actual newspaper headline. The article, which ran last year but which I only now just caught wind of, cites the work of an organization called Optimum Population Trust (OPT). John Guillebaud, co-chairman of OPT, believes couples should weigh the impact of children on the planet in their family planning. Which is why this green think tank is suggesting that you and I cut down on our carbon dioxide (CO2) output by having smaller families.
I’m in Washington, D.C. for a series of meetings this week as well as to participate in the National Day of Prayer. Tomorrow’s activities include brunch at White House which is a real honor. My wife Jean and the boys are with me and, with an eye on the National Day of Prayer, I can’t help but reflect and give thanks to the Lord for the joy that my family brings me.
One of the things I love about my wife, for example, is her incredible nurturing heart.
I enjoy starting my day with a fresh cup of Starbucks coffee – Grande vanilla latte, low fat, half caff, thank you very much. Not only do I enjoy the coffee, I’m blown away by their level of customer service. When I walk in the door of our local Starbucks, I’m still surprised that the barrister knows what I like to drink, what size cup I typically order, and even how hot to brew it for my taste – before I order!
There are nice beaches – and then there are really nice beaches.
During spring break my family and I discovered one of the most beautiful slices of sand and surf in the country – thanks to an extremely generous friend who gave us the gift of saying at their beach house. It’s a picturesque town called Seaside, located on the Florida panhandle halfway between Panama City and Pensacola. Forgive me if I sound like a travel agent, but Seaside will take your breath away.
Two years ago I was speaking in Glendale, Arizona. For Pastor Steve Hubler, one of the guests, that night would forever change his life . . . and the life of his church.
You see, Steve carried with him a burden that taxed his spirit for ten years. Steve has graciously agreed for me to share portions of this letter I just received with you:
I’m one of them, one of the thousands who cannot participate in one of life’s most basic endeavors, the conception of another life.
When I wrote my first book, Finding Home, I collaborated with Bob DeMoss. Bob and I have a friendship that goes back some twenty years. Last week, Bob’s world was turned upside-down with a family medical emergency. Yesterday he sent me an email with the details. He’s agreed with my request to share the story with you.
The phone rang unusually early for a Monday morning. My sister Becky called from Philly to inform me that my brother Steve (age 49) woke up feeling numbness throughout his right arm and leg.
I was scheduled to be in Ireland for several days of meetings last week. I packed, kissed the family goodbye, tossed my bags in the trunk, and headed to Denver – alone. While I enjoy traveling and working with our partners around the world, I sure miss my family. Upon arriving at the Denver International Airport, I was in for a surprise. The United Airlines representative informed me that my flight was delayed.
Translation: I’d miss my connection to London and, in turn, wouldn’t make it to Ireland in time for several key meetings.