Dark is his path

Every Wednesday, Ian and I go to the library for storytime. As you can imagine, sharing is a hot-button issue among the 5-and-under crowd, and the library is not neutral territory. A few weeks ago, a little girl came up to the train table where Ian was playing and snatched a little blue locomotive right out of his hand. He immediately burst into angry, fitful tears. “That mine!” he yelled, and then looked right at me, as if he was waiting for me to come to his defense. He was waiting for me to step in and make it right.

I really love Jesus–the feet washing, scribbling in the sand, bread-breaking Jesus. I struggle with the guy who overthrew the tables in the temple, who talked about a brood of vipers, who cursed a fig tree. (Seriously, though. What’s up with the fig tree?)

My pastor once said that there is a continuum between grace and truth, and we all find ourselves somewhere along the continuum. Each of us tends to gravitate toward one end of the other. I am a grace person, through and through. Because I’ve wrestled so hard with self-imposed perfectionism and impossible standards, I just want to cut us all some slack, you know?

I stood in church the other day and we sang these words:

“O tell of His might, O sing of His grace
Whose robe is the light, whose canopy space
His chariots of wrath, the deep thunderclouds form
And dark is His path on the wings of the storm.”

It’s so beautiful and poetic, but this hymn has been hard for me to stomach since I first heard it a few years ago. I don’t like to think about might and wrath, thunderclouds and darkness. No, I don’t like it one bit. I much prefer the childhood nursery version of Noah’s Ark: cute fuzzy animals and bright rainbows, please and thank you.

I can’t even read or watch the news most days lately. I feel like an irresponsible citizen of the world, but once I’ve read about Syrian refugees or sex trafficking or Donald Trump, I walk around in a heartsick funk the rest of the day. I can’t always shake the cloud of bad news, and I can’t always find the helpers in the stories. And just like that, I find myself wishing for a little less slack and a little more resolution, a little more redemption, a little more justice. Now, please, Jesus, if you don’t mind.

Then, I stand in church on Sunday and those lyrics flash up on the projection screen above my head. I realize that the author of the hymn–hundreds of years ago–found it right and good to talk about God’s grace and might in the very same line.

And when it came time to sing the last line of that verse, I couldn’t help but lift my hands and sing it a bit louder this time: dark is His path on the wings of the storm. I found myself not afraid, but comforted.

The Jesus who overturned tables is, after all, the same who asked the men to put down their stones. His grace means more to me knowing it’s backed by justice. I am less afraid, knowing He is my protector as well as my friend. Truthfully, I don’t want God to turn his back to the pride in my own heart, because I don’t want Him to turn his back to the pride in a presidential candidate. I don’t want to worship a God who doesn’t do something about child labor or slavery or genocide. I want a God who sweeps in, who rescues. Indeed, I want a God whose path is sometimes very, very dark.

This is a good God, one who protects, rescues, and redeems. As the hymn says, He is our maker, defender, redeemer, and friend. He is the one who steps in time and time again to make it right.

Summer spills over

The other day, I switched my desktop wallpaper from pastels to something bright and bold; my eyes needed something different look at. Because the world feels heavy, I find myself wanting to withdraw. I want to curl up in my bed, pull the covers over my head, and not come out until the chaos has passed. I want some quiet, some stillness, some answers, some certainty. I don’t even find that I want rest; I just want less discomfort in the world around me and in my own heart. I want lightness and joy.

Summer, while certainly a time for slower schedules and longer days, is not necessarily a time for retreat. In this season, retreat and withdrawal aren’t giving me what my soul needs most. They may feel like comfort, but they aren’t care. Right now, I need to throw back the covers, to step outside, to feel the warmth of the sun on my shoulders.

I want my flip flops kicked off to the side of the pool, my feet dangling in the water. Hydrangeas so heavy with blooms they could tip over. The pizza crusts brown and bubbly, the cheese gooey and stretching. A melting popsicle dripping down onto my fingers, the sun’s heat more than I can keep up with. Strawberries and watermelon so juicy, the juice dribbles down my toddler’s chin. The condensation on my glass of icy lemonade leaving rings on the table. The summer sun refusing to set, blurring the lines between day and night.


I can’t keep up with the flipping calendar pages, but I don’t want to live as though they are slipping through my fingers.  I am asking summer to show up in abundance, believing that if it’s true in the kitchen and the backyard, it can be true in my soul as well. I want this season to spill over into every corner and crevice. There will be a time for retreat, for staring at the cold and dark outside the window. But now is not that time.

Summer is spilling over.

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activityunder theheavens.

Obsessions (May…and June 2016)

Whoops. Usually I publish these lists on the 20th, but I missed May 20th entirely. It went by without even a blip on my radar. (I’m not sure how that’s possible, but here we are.) Better late than never, right? Here’s some of the best stuff I read on-line over the past 2 months.


  1. “Learning to Let Go” by Becky Tountas. “What strikes me most about the days with my daughter is their level of intimacy. I dress her in the morning, change her diapers, cook her food, put her to sleep, wash her hands and brush her teeth…I cherish our closeness, the way that no one knows her the same way that I do.”
  2. “The embarrassing quandary of asking for help” by Anna France-Williams. “I want to model real relationships to my children. I want to model the joy of giving and receiving. I want them to know that they can always ask for help if they need it. That it’s not a sign of weakness. So I’ve got to lead the way.”
  3. “How God Messed Up My Happy Atheist Life” by Nicole Cliffe. “No one could have in a billion years of their gripping testimony or by showing me a radiant life of good deeds or through song or even the most beautiful of books brought me to Christ. I had to be tapped on the shoulder.”


  1. “Oh, girl, you’re graduating? Read these!” by Sarah Bessey. “Here are the books I would give to a young woman heading out into her adulthood. It’s the stuff I wish I had known back when I was ordering $5 large cheese pizzas at midnight without a thought to my metabolism, bless.”
  2. “Eight Unstoppable Women Writers Balancing Work and Family” by Nicole Slaughter-Graham. This list includes J.K. Rowling, Toni Morrison, and Cheryl Strayed. SO there’s that.
  3. “Why We Want to Return to Stars Hollow” by Rebecca Rene Jones. “…days after watching the series finale, and bidding Rory her rainy farewell, I actually felt a little bit homesick. I missed Stars Hollow itself. Apparently I’m not the only one.”
  4. “22 things every woman needs in her life” by Katie Clemons. “The irony is that people who strive to live more simplistic lives seldom feel like we’re doing without. In fact, we often feel more joy and gratitude because we learn to recognize the liberating difference between too much and just right.”


  1. “No Filter Friendship” by Bethany Suckrow. “Naming our feelings, even the petty ones, sets us free of the power they hold over us.”
  2. “Off Brand” by Sarah Bessey. “Sometimes the story we tell ourselves about our own lives can become a prison, it can keep us from the real life that is waiting for us.”
  3. “For When You’re Struggling Through an Imperfect Life” by Lisa Whittle. “We are beautiful people and difficult people, all at the same time, none who will ever be perfect.”
  4. “How to Survive Summer with a Million Kids” by Kendra Adachi. “Keep your intentions simple, your expectations reasonable, your checklists to a minimum, and your chocolate within easy reach at all times.” 

Happy reading, friends!

My messy, in-the-middle thoughts about Orlando

Over the past few weeks, I have felt exhausted by social media. I know I’m not alone in that feeling. In the midst of that, I keep thinking, “Just because I have an opinion about something does not mean I need to share it.” I also keep thinking, “Before I share this on Facebook, is there a person in my real life I can and should share it with?”

So, as I’ve been wrestling with my feelings about all that’s transpired in Orlando, I have kept them mostly to myself. I’ve talked with Evan, of course, and I’ve sent messages to a few friends. I chatted with a neighbor a bit this afternoon.

I have hesitated to add my voice to the noise. Many people will say it better than me (and have). And I am only tangentially connected to these tragedies–I don’t personally know any of these victims. Yet, this is the type of tragedy that everyone feels the weight of. As Rob Bell said on his latest Robcast episode, we are all created in the image of God and so we all collectively know, “This is not right.”

And what’s more, I still consider Orlando my home.

This afternoon I sat down to read Rising Strong, and of course, Brene Brown started talking about grief. She wrote, “…our silence about grief serves no one. We can’t heal if we can’t grieve; we can’t forgive if we can’t grieve. We run from grief because loss scares us, yet our hearts reach toward grief because the broken parts want to mend. C.S. Lewis wrote, ‘No one ever told me that grief felt so like fear.’ We can’t rise strong when we’re on the run.”

I am grieving. My thoughts are messy, and very much in-process. But as always, I need to write to know what I think.

The three tragedies that have hit Orlando this week each hit so close to home. First, an artist was killed in the building where I used to attend church and where I began my job in children’s ministry. Just yesterday, a little boy the same age as Ian was killed in a freak accident at once of my favorite places in the world. Sandwiched between those two events was the shooting at Pulse–the worst mass shooting in U.S. history.

In the latest episode of the Robcast, Rob Bell talked about the shooting. He recorded on Sunday so his thoughts are raw, and he shares them as we were still learning more about what happened. He kept repeating this one phrase: “You weren’t thinking about Orlando yesterday, but you’re thinking about Orlando today.”

His point was that these terrible tragedies tend to awaken us to the universality of humanity, the way we have more in common than not, to our shared grief and joy. I knew what he meant, but I kept thinking, “No, no, no. I think about Orlando every. single. day.”

Somehow, I feel as though I am mourning the loss of our Orlando home and community all over again. Isn’t that strange? It just feels lonely to be mourning this tragedy from afar, to know that somehow, if and when we return to Orlando, it will be forever altered. It may look the same, but underneath, I know nothing will ever be the same.

It makes me feel impotent, almost. What am I to do? My people are hurting, and I desperately want to be there with them, to hug and cry and grieve and hope and pray together. To look at the streets and the sites with new, more grateful eyes. I want to donate blood and attend the vigils, drop off meals and assemble care packages. Instead, I send some texts and some emails, I pray from afar.

Over the weekend, an author I follow tweeted something like, “Let’s remember that prayer is not the least we can do. It’s the most we can do.” But doesn’t it feel so insufficient sometimes? I have struggled to bring my real, unedited thoughts to Jesus. All my prayers seem trite and overplayed.

I haven’t felt hopeless–not exactly. Truly, I know my hope rests in Jesus and His now-but-not-yet kingdom. I have asked Him to show me what to do next, and I know the answer is to love more like Jesus did. But if I’m honest, I don’t always know what that should look like in the midst of dirty diapers, picky eating, and missed nap times.

I remember the aftermath of the Sandy Hook massacre. I sat on my couch and cried, but never once did I pick up the phone or type out an email to my government representatives to tell them that I wanted reform and wanted it quickly. I think that perhaps I have let down my neighbors, let down my country, let down each person who’s been killed by an AR-15 since that terrible day. Meanwhile, I believe more in the power of the NRA than I do in my own voice as a citizen of this country…but I’m not going to live like it.

I watched the Tony Awards on Sunday night, and I wanted to cry for both the beauty and heartbreak of it all. I wanted to raise my hands in worship, grateful for the reminder that all truth is God’s truth and to make art is to imitate our Creator. I could not help but see and thank Jesus for the strange alchemy that was created from such unspeakable tragedy in the morning, and such beautiful art and celebration in the evening. I had church right there on my couch on Sunday night, watching each of those people do the work God created them to do.

All of this motivates me to pray with renewed fervor for Ian and Leo. I want them to know two things: first, that they will never lock eyes with someone who does not matter to God and second, that their lives have a purpose. I don’t want them to ever feel the kind of angry desperation I imagine someone must feel to perpetrate such evil, awful violence. I want them to be captivated by their God-given purpose: to love.

Orlando is a community that certainly has its fair share of inequality, poverty, and violence. But I think most people will tell you that Orlando and all her surrounding neighborhoods are marked by diversity, creativity, fun, and an ever-increasing “local first” consciousness. I always had the sense that Orlando was a community in which our family had every opportunity to thrive.

Disney World is known as “the happiest place on earth,” so that phrase is associated with Orlando by extension (even if, sometimes, with an eye-roll).

Orlando will be different now, but, I truly believe–better. The happiest place on earth? Who knows. But Orlando will be increasingly a place where people know how to love one another, where people care more about their commonalities than their differences. Orlando will be a place where profit takes a back seat to compassion, where people link arms and hold hands. It will be a place where people pray and serve and hope with doors open to their neighbors.

I have hope, friends. I have hope.


Before Ian was born, I was so unaware of many of parenting’s realities. I didn’t know that I’d give up on leaving the house in clean clothes or that vomit is worse to clean up than poop. I didn’t know that I’d hate nothing more than the little songs Fisher-Price toys sing, but that I’d find myself humming the tunes while washing dishes. I also didn’t realize that newborns have different cries.

Leo is no different: he cries a certain way when hungry or tired of sitting in a dirty diaper, but he cries differently when sleepy or scared. My favorite is his little squeal when I walk into his field of vision and he wants me to pick him up. (I sound like such a mom right now, claiming to have a favorite cry?!)

This doesnt always work perfectly. Sometimes, he cries and cries, louder and louder until just wailing, and for the life of me, I can’t figure out what he wants. While trying to soothe Leo, I go through a mental checklist: diaper, fed, warm, sitting, standing, bouncing, swinging, pacifier, blanket, upright, reclined. Sometimes, I never discover the precise combination to quell his frustration or ease his sadness.


Still, I find such joy in the idea that I could grow to know my boys so well that the sound of their cries told me what they needed. Isn’t that a beautiful sort of intimacy?

How much more so, then, does God stand at the ready, in tune to our cues, eager to respond? And He never tires, never throws up His hands in exasperation when my cries don’t cease. He never paces the room anxiously, muttering, “What is it, little one?”

I wonder what my own cries indicate to His wise and listening ears. My perfectionism masking a fear of failure. My pride a grasping for control. My dishonesty an attempt to please and protect my reputation. My hustle an attempt to build an identity.

He always knows, and what’s more, the needs have already been met. Jesus is the salve, the nourishment, the cleansing, the comfort. The need was met before it was ever expressed. I don’t always know how, but it’s a promise I can count on.

But my God shall supplyall your needaccording tohis riches inglory byChristJesus.-2

I wonder if Cain and Able would have cried if their parents never left the garden. Before sin and separation, did they ned to communicate their needs in some desperate way? Or was Eve so perfectly in tune with her babies, the way Jesus is in tune with me?

This whole idea changes the way I view my own neediness, the holes and discontent I sometimes feel.

I want Ian and Leo to know they can trust me. When Ian has a meltdown, I tell him everything is ok, that I will give him what he needs or wants, just maybe not at that moment. When he’s afraid we’re leaving him, we assure him, “Mom an dad will be right back.” When he’s afraid to climb the playground ladder or go join the other kids at storytime, I remind him, “Be brave. You are safe. I’m right here.”

A newborn’s needs are so simple: he needs a clean diaper, a full tummy, good sleep (though not necessarily at night). Everything only grows more complicated as we grow, but God’s ability and desire to meet our needs never wanes nor wavers.


Jesus gives me so many reminders that my needs are met: the surprise gift in the mail, the just-right song that pops up on shuffle, the encouraging text from a friend, the encouraging Sunday service. Each is a sign that I am known and loved by an attentive and trustworthy Father.

Be brave. You are safe. You have what you need. I’m right here.


An Update: My Favorite Podcasts

A few days ago, my friend Laura asked me two questions: when do I listen to podcasts, and what podcasts would I recommend to a newbie?

I talk about podcasts…well, all the time. I’m almost embarrassed by how many conversations I start with, “I was listening to this podcast about…” I have been listening to podcasts for years now, and I could not be more grateful for their recent boom. It just means more great things to listen to all the time!

25+ podcastsI'm loving lately

First of all, some disclaimers: There are very few podcasts that I listen to every single week. When it comes to podcasts, I relinquished my fear of missing out a long time ago. I only have 24 hours in a day, most of which are occupied by small children and therefore not conducive to focused listening. My podcast app is set to only keep the one or two most recent episodes of any given show, and I don’t sweat it when I miss something.

When I listen: When I was working full-time at the church, I had my commute and a lot of time spent cleaning/organizing/sorting/stapling/etc. That made for a lot of listening time. Currently, Ian does NOT STOP TALKING when we are driving in the car, so I’m getting through fewer shows these days. I often volunteer to do the dishes after dinner; Evan keeps the boys occupied, and I listen to my shows. I listen in the shower and during nap time. (Laundry, tidying, scrapbooking, and adult coloring keep my hands moving while my ears listen.)

How I listen: Overcast. Overcast has an awesome feature called “Smart Speed.” Through some kind of black magic, it speeds up your shows but doesn’t make the speakers sound like chipmunks. The app tells me that I have saved over 8 hours (!!!) by listening to podcasts using Smart Speed. (Also, Overcast looks prettier than the native iPhone podcast app.)

And now, on to the shows.

For newbies:

  • A few shows are kind of considered the Gold Standard of podcasts. They are: Serial, This American Life, and Radiolab.
    • Some thoughts on Serial: As the name suggests, these need to be listened to in order. Start with Season 1, Episode 1, and go from there. I felt totally “meh” about Season 2, but let’s just say that there is a reason Season 1 gets all the hype.
    • I do not listen to This American Life or Radio Lab every week, but almost every time I do, I think, “Why the heck don’t I listen to this every week???” These podcasts are great ones for Evan and I to listen to together; they have wide appeal.
  • I am subscribed to over 60 podcasts. (Yikes!) Many of those I skip over week-to-week, and just pop in when the topic seems interesting. That’s the beauty of podcasts. Usually, you don’t need to listen every single week to get something great from them.
  • Sampler: Sampler is a podcast…about podcasts. They literally sample podcasts and recommend good stuff to listen to. I haven’t listened to Sampler at all (because clearly, I don’t need help finding podcasts…), but it might be a good way to find something interesting!

What I listen to [practically] every week:

  • Sorta Awesome. This is my favorite podcast, hands down; it’s the only one that I literally do not miss an episode of. Sorta Awesome is strategically and wonderfully balanced between serious and light-hearted. It feels like grabbing coffee with some friends, in the best way.
  • The Happy Hour with Jamie Ivey. Each week, Jamie interviews a woman and they chat about whatever–the big things and little things in life. Again, like having coffee with a friend! These two podcasts make me feel less alone on those days when being a stay-at-home mom is draining me.
  • What Should I Read Next? Each week, Anne Bogel asks as guest to share three books they love, one book they hate, and what they’ve been reading lately. Then, she recommends three new books for them to read. I don’t recommend this if you are easily overwhelmed by how many books you want to read.😉

When I want to be inspired creatively:

  • Ann Kroeker, Writing Coach. A new one I just started listening to, and I love it so far. Short and sweet ideas, inspiration, and challenges for writers.
  • HopeWriters. A relatively new podcast (less than 10 episodes so far) meant to encourage and troubleshoot the things that make us overwhelmed as writers.
  • Magic Lessons. Currently on hiatus, but an excellent podcast from Liz Gilbert in which she helps people figure out how to live the creative lives they are longing for. (There is some language occasionally in this one, if that would bother you.)

When I want to be inspired in my faith:

  • On Being with Krista Tippett. Krista Tippett is a fantastic interviewer. Her guests talks about faith and spirituality from a variety of perspectives. I always learn something.
  • The RobCast. This is Rob Bell’s podcast. I listen depending on the topic or the guest, but some episodes have truly changed my thinking about things.
  • Sacred Ordinary Days. I love learning more about the liturgical calendar, and how to more intentionally observe my faith in different seasons.

When I want to be inspired in my motherhood:

  • The God-Centered Mom Podcast. Heather is the mom of four boys, and she is honest about the ways she struggles in her motherhood. I have learned SO MUCH from this podcast. I truly believe it’s helped me honor Jesus more in my motherhood, and I recommend it to every mom I know.
  • Coffee + Crumbs Podcast. This is a relatively new show from the girls who run coffeeandcrumbs.net. Honest and encouraging conversations about motherhood.

When I want to learn something:

  • Death, Sex, and Money. Anna Sale is the host, and she is a phenomenal interviewer and storyteller. I’ve yet to find a bad episode of this show.
  • Note to Self. An interesting show about how technology interacts with the rest of our lives. (Love the host of this one!)
  • The Writer’s Almanac. Every single day, Garrison Keillor reads a poem. He also shares notable birthdays and events from this day in history. It’s always 5 minutes, start to finish. It’s great while you’re waiting for your coffee to brew in the morning.

When I want to be entertained:

  • Around the Table Podcast. Jacey and Maggie do a good job blending the serious and the lighthearted; they call it intention and indulgence. Sometimes I learn something, sometimes I laugh, and I am often challenged to live life with a little more intention. (I really like their “Read, Watch, Listen, Follow” segments. They always have good recommendations!)
  • Ask Me Another. This is a game-show from NPR. Nerdy and delightful. I especially listen to this one when I like the VIP guest.
  • Off Camera with Sam Jones. Sam is another GREAT interviewer. I haven’t listened to too many episode of this, but I’ve enjoyed those I have. I loved the Kristen Bell interview. I’ve heard the Matt Damon interview is excellent, but I haven’t gotten to it yet.
  • Pop Culture Happy Hour. Great discussions of books, television, music, and movies. I listen depending in the topic, but I LOVE Linda Holmes.
  • The Popcast. Knox and Jamie are hilarious. Even if I have no idea what they are talking about (which is more often than I’d like to admit; I don’t watch that much television and I’m terrible at keeping up with movies), the conversation is always entertaining.
  • Wait Wait…Don’t Tell Me! A quiz show all about what’s in the news. It helps me think about the news without wanting to bury my head in the sand, and I usually get a few laughts as well. This is one that Evan and I like to listen to together.
  • Mystery Show. This show is currently on hiatus, and I wish it would come back already!! I recommend starting with the Britney episode, then Belt Buckle.


  • Modern Love. Famous actors read aloud selections from The New York Times’ Modern Love column. Wonderful, interesting stories about love that almost always touch on themes of redemption and identity.
  • The Simple Show. Tsh interviews various guests about living authentically and holistically according to your life’s purpose. I LOVED the recent episode about Everyday Spiritual Practices.
  • The West Wing Weekly. All fans of The West Wing must listen to this. (Or, if The West Wing isn’t your thing, similar podcasts exist for shows like Gilmore Girls, Lost, Game of Thrones, and probably many more.)

Well, I think that should wear out your earbuds in no time at all. Now I want to know: what are YOU listened to these days? I always love new recommendations!

What I Learned (May 2016)

It’s that time again! Time to share what I learned in May.

1. We (as a society) have watched 400 million years worth of YouTube videos. I can’t decide if I think this is a terrifying or awe-inspiring accomplishment. Maybe both? When I first read this, I thought, “We don’t watch that much YouTube!” Then I remembered Sesame Street songs and Peppa Pig, and I thought, “Oh…ok.”

2. Adulting is hard, and it is practically impossible to find a primary care doctor in West Michigan. I will not regale you with all the nitty-gritty details of my search for a primary care doctor, but let’s just say I spent literally hours on the phone and computer before I finally found a doctor. (Now let’s say a prayer that I actually like her.) It’s so frustrating when I finally decide to tackle a task I’ve been putting off, only to have it turn out to be even more difficult than anticipated.

3. Rejection is sometimes worth celebrating. Over the past few months, I have started submitting essays and articles for publication to a few places. My fear of rejection is real and often loud, but you know what? I was actually excited to receive my first rejection letter. I immediately turned around and resubmitted the piece somewhere else, and I created a folder in my inbox for all future rejection letters. I hope there will be a lot of them, because that means there is a lot of writing happening around here.

4. There is yet even more room left in my heart for loving tulips. At the beginning of the month, Evan’s mom and sister came for a visit, and we trekked out to Holland to see the tulips. I was even more in awe of them this year than last. (I think it had something to do with having endured the winter!) I have always loved tulips, and somehow, seeing thousands of them has only made my love grow. The colors! The variety! I’m in awe.


5. On the parenting front, I learned that it helps to have toys set aside for rainy days and sick days. (And by “it helps,” I mean it may save your life. Or at least your sanity.) I came down with a nasty virus last week (complete with fever and dehydration). Meanwhile, Evan had bought and set aside a little box of toy construction vehicles for Ian. I was SO grateful when all I wanted to do was curl up on the couch with a box of tissues, and I could pull out those toys. It’s a parenting tool I’m going to keep in my back pocket from now on. (P.S. I recently heard one of the hosts of the Coffee & Crumbs podcast explain that whenever one of her children is home sick, they go out for ice cream. I love that idea so much! Even the worst days deserve a little fun.)


6. We’re eating more apples these days, and it’s because they’re sliced. I don’t know why, but I found this article so fascinating. And just speaking for myself, I HATE biting into a whole apple. We can all thank McDonalds for this, apparently.

7. And finally, in an ode to my word of the year, I learned that joy is contagious. When I first saw the Chewbacca mask video show up in my news video, I ignored it. Then I ignored it again. And again. And finally, finally, just because it was showing up SO many times…I watched. And y’all. I haven’t laughed that hard in awhile. Joy is contagious, as over 100 MILLION views clearly indicates.

Here’s to a summer full of learning lots of new, good things. What did you learn this month?