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"Re nd your heart  and not your garments. R eturn  to the  Lord  your God,  for he is gracious and compassionate,  slow to anger and abounding in love,  and he relents from sending calamity." (Joel 2:13, NIV) How true? How often do we symbolically rend our garments, offering a show of sorrow though our hearts remain unchanged? God doesn't care if we tear our clothes or not. He cares about the condition of our hearts. Do we repent? Do we confess and turn to Him? Our outward actions ought to align with our inward posture.

Where's the American media when you need them to report on REAL news? SRN News -- no mention of 141 killed in a Peshawar school yesterday. NPR -- leading off with the latest gossip about the Sony leak and eventually getting around to discussing whether the Taliban leader behind the massacre is insane or not. These are real lives, real lives that will never walk the face of our earth again. These are humans, like we are humans. Where's our humanity?

While John's been TDY ( temporary tour of duty meaning traveling for work) this past week, Miriam and I have generally been enjoying our time together. I've been a little low on sleep owing to some late-night podcasting, facebooking, and hard-copy book reading. Last night was no different. (I started reading No Hero yesterday afternoon.) Fast forward to this morning and I determined to do only what HAD to get done before heading to Miriam's 18 month doctor's appointment. I ran through a mental checklist: 1. the bed did not HAVE to get made, 2. I did HAVE to put on clothes, 3. I did not HAVE to put on underwear, those were already on, . . . 131. Miriam HAD to have her coat on the right way instead of backwards. Thankfully I'm feeling slightly more alert now, at 2pm.

To put this blog in context, following is something I shared at our Thanksgiving Eve service at church. If you're going through tough times, I pray this encourages you. The first Thanksgiving celebration is traditionally considered to be the Pilgrims' feast in 1621. They celebrated their first harvest in the New World with THREE DAYS of feasting! Consider this giving of thanks for God's provision against the backdrop of what led to this point in their history. After years of religious persecution in Europe wherein they fled from country to country, they escaped to the New World and arrived at the beginning of winter in 1620. Most of the Pilgrims spent that winter on the Mayflower . Only half of the Pilgrims who embarked from Europe disembarked in March, 1621 onto the soil of the New World. The other half had died. And still the survivors gave thanks. The next Thanksgiving celebration occurred is 1623. Once again, the Pilgrims faced dire circumstances as drought threaten

Thank God for the Americans that honor Veterans and whom honorable Veterans serve. So many online posts today, Veteran's Day, extol the virtues of the people who serve our country. Veterans earn every extolment (yes, that's a real word) through their not only their career but their very lives. I don't mean laying down their lives and dying for this country, though Veterans vow to do that when necessary. Instead, I mean choosing each and every day to serve a country through thick and thin. Veterans do not say, "I disagree with this administration; I'm not serving anymore," nor do they say, "I'm bored with my career; I'm going to leave and reinvent myself." I have the luxury of making those choices. Those serving our country do not. Those who served, did not. Veterans adopt a lifestyle wherein their military service eclipses all aspects of life. Military families experience this when a recall occurs in the middle of the night or the active dut

I've been in a mood to write lately but haven't had the time to sit down to the task. The sibling book project requires lengthy periods for deep concentration and, quite frankly, it's hard for me to get the time AND feel up for that kind of concentration. So I'm writing up a couple short stories here instead. I got my eyes dilated yesterday at my first optometry appointment in years. I forgot how that feels. Now I know what it might be like to read a magazine in 30 years, holding it as far away as possible, angling it to get the light just right so I might make out the words. Does anyone else recall dilation playing games with your eyes like this? After the appointment, I went to a client meeting. I get excited about these because they don't happen often. However, my client friend asked me what something on my computer screen said and, once again, I had to lean back and cock my head, trying to make out the words on my screen. Then I went to the gym. I was REALLY t

1. Yesterday John shared an interesting thought from a fellow commander. When we're given a test, the Teacher is generally silent during the test. 2. This morning I revisited a Scottish hymn we sang a few weeks ago. This verse struck me: Will you love the "you" you hide if I but call your name? Will you quell the fear inside and never be the same? Will you use the faith you've found to reshape the world around, Through My sight and touch and sound in you and you in Me?

As I work on a book about sibling loss (on a tangential note, I'm thinking of how to re-frame 'sibling loss' because Tim is not lost nor have I truly lost him; our separation is but for a time), I come across good words I want to write about but they just don't fit into the book. I share those words here so others may be encouraged. Everything about our lives flows out of how we view God. If we have a small view of God, we will have small hearts, small relationships, and small ministries. As our view of God becomes bigger, our hearts are set free to flourish and grow. We become children who are secure in the greatness of our God, and the fruitfulness of our relationships and ministries increases. Bill Mills,   Hope for Hurting People , 18

From parents whose children were killed in a car accident that they survived: "Every morning we awake we say, this is one more day to prove the faithfulness of God. Every night we say, we are one day closer to seeing our children again." (Lutzer, 127)

I'm writing a book about sibling loss. To research, I've been reading a lot about grief and about heaven. While the former reading helps me process my experience, it is the latter reading that fills me with hope. Here's a snippet: "And so while your family tends to your funeral, you are beholding the face of Christ. Though the family weeps at your departure, you would not return to earth even if the choice were given to you. Having seen heaven, you will find that earth has lost all of its attraction... You only wish that those you left behind would know how important it was to be faithful to Christ. Looked at from the other side of the curtain, knowing what is now so clear to you, you wish that you could shout to earth encouraging believers to serve Christ with all their hearts. You wish you had grasped this before the call came for you to come up higher." ~Erwin W. Lutzer, One Minute After You Die , p. 98

Yesterday, Miriam and I went to a kids' play group. Miriam was standing up on the edge of a plastic pool full of bouncy balls when another girl, sitting amidst the balls, stuck her hand directly into Miriam's face and pushed her away. This happened another two or three times; it wasn't harming Miriam but it wasn't the "gentle touch" I was encouraging the girl to use. The girl's mom had been in the other room with her other daughter. Later, Miriam was standing up on a folding chair and the same girl came up to Miriam and stuck her hand in Miriam's face and pushed. Again, this happened a couple times (the mom was in the bathroom this time) before Miriam started crying. The other girl, surprised, wandered away from the scene of the crime. When I retold my story to Dad, he said, "bullied at 11 months!" I hadn't thought of it that way but, yeah, I guess Miriam was bullied at 11 months by a much larger 18 month old. I tend to roll my eyes w

We were at Daisy's Deli for breakfast this morning. Sitting at the counter were two elderly men and two elderly women. One of the women had The Bible in 366 Days for Women  lying on the counter. This sparked an intense debate over how many days are in one year. The other woman insisted there are 365 days in a year but the men protested, debating amongst themselves whether it was 352 or 355 days. At this point, John announced, "I feel like walking over and ending this all right now." The men then proceeded to list out how many days are in each month. They added up all the days and came up with 366.

Earlier this month, I returned to All Souls Church of Boulder, the church I attended with Jess and Tim when I stayed with them in 2010. Their bulletin has always been thoughtfully curated and following is a quote included for reflection. "God uses broken things. It takes broken soil to produce a crop, broken clouds to give rain, broken grain to give bread, broken bread to give strength. It is the broken alabaster box that gives forth perfurme. It is Peter, weeping bitterly, who returns to greater power than ever." ~Vance Havner

Yesterday I lost my most treasured possession , my wedding ring. After putting Miriam down for her nap, I realized I wasn't wearing it and had a sick-in-my-stomach feeling because I couldn't remember taking it off. I called all the stores where I'd stopped earlier in the day. No luck. I searched high and low in the house. Nope. I called John and left him a message, letting him know and turning his stressful day into misery. I called Dad and he immediately asked if he could pray about it. For those of you tracking with the Hine fam saga, you'll know Dad's prayer meant a lot to me. Ever since Tim passed, I've found it difficult to pray with conviction and to believe that God might really answer our fervent prayers. Hearing Dad's faith-filled prayer pricked my heart, making me ask myself if I really believe God loves me and answers prayers. Once John got home from work, he got out his headlamp and looked into the garbage disposal and under the mattress (in

Our Christmas trip to CT provided quality time to fellowship and READ! I read a few books that are worth exploring, depending upon your interests so here they are, in no particular order: The Endurance: Shackleton's Legendary Antarctic Expedition If I had to pick a favorite of all the books listed here, this would be it. This one had me awake until 2am more than once, reading to find out what happened to Shackleton and his men. It is an amazing story of perseverance against all odds. I won't spoil the ending but it is well-worth a read. It's also made me curious to learn more about Shackleton as a man and what made him the courageous, effective leader he was. Last Climb: The Legendary Everest Expeditions of George Mallory In a similar vein to the previous title, this filled my late nights with stories of overcoming odds in cold climes.  In addition to covering Mallory's Everest attempts, the book chronicles the discovery of Mallory's body on Everest so I

I was at a military spouse social last night and we had "madlib introductions." Play along or steal this idea for your next get-together. Fill out the following: 1. your name 2. adjective 3. an event 4. verb 5. verb Now, introduce yourself with the following madlib, using the information you filled out above: My name is (your name). I am feeling (adjective) about the (event). I want to be remembered for (verb). I have always dreamed I would (verb). Here's my introduction: My name is Sarah. I am feeling delighted about the high school prom. I want to be remembered for skinny dipping. I have always dreamed I would ride in the rodeo. That teaches me to be a little more conservative next time (or maybe not because at least half the attendees listed sleep as one of their verbs -- gotta spice things up a bit!).