An angel unawares...?

The other night around 10 p.m., the doorbell rang.

Like an idiot, I opened it.

There was a guy on our front step, looked like a drifter -- in his 40s, dirty clothes, about two days' worth of stubble, obviously someone who spends a lot of time in the sun, judging by his weathered face.

He wanted gas in a can, or money to go buy gas. I said we didn't have any gas cans, and didn't keep cash in the house.

Did I mention my children and I were alone, as my husband was out of town on business?

I closed the door and called 911. Later, the officer said mine was the first call, but by the time he got out to our neck of the woods, he'd received about five more calls about the same person. The policeman seemed to think the guy was looking for drug money. (For a small southern city, we apparently have a serious meth and crack problem.) He assured me that he would do an occasional drive-by throughout the night, as I was clearly spooked.

Bruster, our American Bull Dog (which, for the record, is not a pit bull, but intimidating enough), barked and growled his displeasure at our late-night visitor. I think it was enough to make the guy think twice about coming back, if those were his intentions.

Later, I laid awake wondering if it was possible the man really was just a hard-working day laborer who had simply run out of gas. You know, an angel unawares... "Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it." (Heb 13:2) And that by turning him away, I was turning away my Lord. "Whatever you did not do for the least of these, you did not do for Me." (Matt 25:45, emphasis mine.)

Should I have helped the guy out? Was calling the police an overreaction? I agonized over this for some time, but remembered that I did offer to call help for the man. I told him we had no gas can and no money, but that I could call someone he knew to come get him. He declined the offer.

Still... can't help but wonder... was offering no more than to make a phone call really an example of Christ-like compassion?

"Am I adopted?"

My 10yo son (OK, he's nine, but will be 10 in a month) asked me the other day, "Mom, are you sure I'm not adopted?"

If you know my hubby and me at all, you only need to spend 10 minutes with that kid to know he is most definitely our genetic offspring.

I know he knows this, too, so I was perplexed at his question.

"Of course you're not adopted, darling!" I said reassuringly. (Or maybe I said something like, "That's a dumb question." I really can't remember now.) "Why do you ask?"

He replied, "Because there are no pictures of me as a baby!"

In fact, that's not true. There are several dozen pictures of him as a baby. And as a toddler. And as a preschooler. And ... well, you get it. (Granted, not as many as there are of his older brother. Let's face it, the novelty wears off by the time kid #3 rolls around.)

Problem is, all of his pictures are in boxes. Along with all the other pictures taken in the past 11 years.

This is a travesty, I know.

I had the albums up-to-date in the summer of 1996. Then we moved, I got busy... baby came along, we moved again...

I bought scrapbooks and photo albums and fancy scissors and acid-free paper for making fun borders (this was before the scrapbooking craze went completely fanatical)... and, really, had very good intentions of getting it all brought up to date in the summer of 1998. And again in the summer of 2001. And again in this last year...

I have a wall in our storage room dedicated to the boxes upon boxes of pictures we have yet to put into a photo album. Thirteen (yep, count 'em --13) small U-Haul boxes in all, filled with photos and momentos from the past 11 years.

We had to dig through them the other day for a school project my teenage daughter was working on. She pulled out a picture of us taken with some other people about eight years ago, and asked who they were. I couldn't remember. I turned the print over in hopes I'd had the foresight to write their names on the back. No such luck. I'm sure that, at the time, I thought I'd be labeling it and putting it into a photo album soon. Silly me.

Now, however, my dilemma is that I can't even afford all the supplies I'd need to organize 11 years worth of photos into albums.

(And I've long since given up any hope of making one of those fancy scrapbook albums. Sheesh.)

Oh, and those 13 boxes are just the photos we've actually had developed and printed. In the past four years, we've gone completely digital, and I have hundreds -- nay, thousands -- of pictures on my computer. Pictures I'm going to print someday. When I have time.

Mulligan

Ummm... can I have a do-over, please?

I created this blog several months ago, because I was just overflowing with profound and witty things to say that I was sure folks were just dying to read.

Right.

Truth is, people might have read my posts... if I'd made any.

(By "people," I mean my parents, my husband, and a few long-suffering friends.)

Somehow, my most eloquent thoughts occur at the most inopportune times, say, when I'm in the shower, or driving the kids to school. I think to myself, "Wow, that is a nicely-turned phrase, you oughtta write that down and post it on your blog!"

Problem is, by time I'm back at my desk, all those Pulitzer Prize-worthy thoughts and ideas are simply... gone. Poof. Outta my head like the names of all the state capitals I learned in fourth grade.

I also struggled with determining a "theme" for this blog. My friend, Dean Lusk, has a great blog on the church and culture. Which makes a lot of sense, seeing as how he is a worship leader.

Our family recently began a "Total Money Makeover" (TMMO for short), based on the precepts of Dave Ramsey. We joined the TMMO community, where I've discovered several great blogs people have created to chart their journey to financial peace, like this one, and this one, and this one.

I've seen some fabulous "mom blog" sites, one of the best among them Rocks in My Dryer.

These are all great ideas, because I could probably write at length about any one of these topics -- worship, money, family -- along with many other areas (faith, creative arts, current events, marriage, drama, pop culture...) in which I'm interested. How could I possibly narrow it down to just one topic?

Yeah, I can't. So I won't. Narrow it down, that is. This blog will be a "mixed bag," if you will, of thoughts and ideas on any number of topics. Like Forrest Gump's box of chocolates...

You just never know what you'll get.