Ok, so there's all this stuff about blogging and the fascination with recording every day life. I never really considered keeping a "blog" until the other day....I was listening to NPR the other day and they were talking about how people's biographies will be verified in the future. Previously historians used written correspondence to sort of fill in the blanks, but with so much focus on communication that is electronic (and, as such, deletable) there is a real concern among historians that key information is being lost because the communication between humans is being deleted quicker than Donald Trump can say "You're Fired." (ok, cheesy I know but have you looked at the time? 1:26 am EST - which begs the question: Why am I still up?)

I actually laughed out loud at one historian's suggestion that we physically write our journals and then bequeth them to the local historical society when we die so that future historians can look back at what every day life would have been like. Yeah, right.......like I want them knowing how truly weird I am! :) Plus, geez........if it's in your own handwriting there's generally no denying you wrote it. As it is, ANYBODY could be writing this!

Nonetheless, I felt compelled to record. I don't know exactly what I'll write and can't even guarantee that I'll keep it up. You know the saying about good intentions? I think the person that coined that phrase was referring directly to me. But, I'll try. And I'll try to record my true self along the way.

So in that spirit, I'm going to share one thing about which I have been contemplating and then I will try to go to sleep for the evening.

I was watching Extreme Makeover Home Edition last night, and - like every time - I cried. I cried when Ty showed the inspirational video, I cried when the family saw their house for the first time, I cried when the family cried over their rooms.......there's never been a time that I watched this show that I did not cry through at least half of it.

My husband just has me pegged as a "crier" but the truth is I just don't know anything that touches me more than helping people in need. I honestly wish I was rich, not for what I could get for myself but for what I could give others. And I say that in all honesty. My heart aches that I cannot reach out more than I do and I wish that I could be Oprah and give and give and give.

And I think what it is about the home makeover show that makes me so weepy is that they don't just give them what they need, they completely overdo it. It's lavish compared to what they have known before, and I cannot think of anything more Christlike than giving until they just don't know what else to do with themselves except cry because there are no words.

I hope that Jesus knows that when I weep for him it is because I have no words to express my gratitude to him.