Dress Your Family in Corduroy and Denim

I've always been fond of the book title by David Sedaris. I've never read the book but I like corduroy and denim. A lot. Like cider and donuts. I like just about everything about fall.

After an enjoyable week in Arizona, we flew back into Detroit last night. We were greeted by shockingly crisp autumnal weather and we were downright giddy about it.

This morning Matthew dressed in jeans and layered shirts. He also traded his crocs for running shoes. Nolan wore cords for the first time ever. And real shoes, which he wasn't too fond of. He was cute as a button checking them out all morning.

This afternoon, while Bob and Nolan conked out for a long nap, Matthew and I had a glorious outdoor adventure. Sunlight poured through the treetops as we walked down the sidewalk, stomping and crunching leaves. We played baseball in the backyard. We went on a dinosaur hunt with our baseball bats serving as our walking sticks.

Matthew set up an elaborate dinosaur exhibit in the front lawn. When the dinosaurs grew hungry, we cooked up some interesting fare. For the meat-eaters we created hamburger ("hangabur") surprise shakes. Crunchy leaves were the meat. Wood chips were the sugar. Bubble wands were our mixing spoons. For the plant-eaters we made soup with leaves, grass and invisible berries. The dinosaurs then chomped, slurped and devoured their meals. When they were done, they all used the potty. Because, well, I have a b-o-y. And they are so fascinated by the finer things in life.


It was a day to treasure, full of those moments that don't come around every day. Those moments when you really connect with your children. Share smiles and giggles of wonder and the joy of imagination. The joy of the change of season.

Matthew - September 2006
Same sweet boy - different stick.

I was filled with nostalgia. Past falls with Matthew in the same lawn. On the same sidewalk. Wearing the shoes that Nolie wore today. Learning to walk. Investigating the shape and texture of the leaves. I love my boys. I hope I never forget to appreciate the little things with them.

So go ahead -- dress your kids in corduroy and denim. Go outside. Crunch some leaves just for the joy of it. Smell that air. Let the crispness fill your lungs. Be silly and carefree and cook up some dinosaur soup.

It feels so good.

A Fluttery Buttery (Semi) Not Me Monday

Despite our suggestions that butterflies are pretty tricky pets, Matthew has been coveting a pet butterfly for quite some time.

Chasing his elusive fluttery friends keeps him busy many an afternoon. Until he quits in frustration when they just won't sit still and cooperate.

At church yesterday, his dream came true. While learning that God made the earth and everything in it, they worked on a few art projects. Much to Matthew's glee, one project included a plastic butterfly. But tragically, they ran out of butterflies just before Matthew got one, I hear. And I also heard that he might have thrown a fit when he realized that they were gone. Which I would believe, except that my child would never do something like that. I also heard that a sweet girl named Lillian parted with her little butterfly in order to console Matthew. Thank you for making this boy's day, week --and most likely month-- with your kind generosity, Lillian!

And so, without further ado, meet our newest family member.



Butterfl Zooey Butter.

But you can call him Butterfl.

In case you're wondering, I didn't forget the Y. Really I didn't. It's pronounced Butterfla and it's par for the course in Matthew's latest trend in pet naming. We have dinosaurs with catchy monikers like Muttaba the Muttaburrasaurus, Velocirapt the Velociraptor and T-Reck the Tyrannasaurus Rex. Not to be outdone by Packyceph the Packcephalasaurus and his two brothers - Packy and Packycephala.

Our bendy wood snake has two names. He's either Snake-that-moves-like-a-real-snake or Boaconstrict. Take your pick. But whatever you do, for the love of Pete, DON'T try to shorten Snake-that-moves-like-a-real-snake into a nickname. Completely inappropriate I've learned.

Which brings us back to dear Butterfl. Butterfl has already been much loved. It has played baseball, been the baseball, gone down our slide countless times, been lost and re-found countless times and is now resting comfortably in bed with a tired boy.

And since it's Monday, here comes a little Not Me bonus. I was not heard shouting out, "O Butterfl! O Butterfl! O Butterfl, where are you?!" in my backyard last evening. And I definitely was not on my hands and knees, sifting through blades of grass for a missing plastic insect, while calling our missing pet's name. And I didn't feel strangely exultant upon spotting Butterfl amidst the camouflage. I did not scream, "I found him!" On countless occasions. Nope, not me.

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The addicting, refreshing Not Me! blog carnival was created by MckMama. Check out her site to read what she, and everyone else, have not been doing this week.

Try it, you'll like it

Seems like a good time for a random post about something silly that has made me ridiculously happy this month.

You know how the cap for the laundry detergent always ends up all goopy and gunky? And despite one's best rinsing efforts, the sludgy residue is inescapable?

A few weeks ago I tried out a new laundry detergent because Target lured me with a sale. The little cap had some fabulous advice imprinted on the bottom. Better than a fortune cookie. It said something like, Rinse or Throw in Machine with the Wash.

Really? I can do that? Fabulous.

I suppose perhaps everyone's already been doing this and I'm just out of the loop.

But now that I'm in the loop, I can't help but smile twice every load. Once as I gleefully toss the cap in with the load, feeling strangely rebellious. And again when I switch the load to the dryer and pull out a sparkling clean, goop-free cap. It just doesn't get old.

Try it, you'll like it.

Contractions

Today we opened up some ominous looking envelopes with ominous looking letterhead and ominous sounding legalese. Regarding our house.

Though we've been doing really well just going with the flow, today the pit of my stomach felt heavy as the boys and I were walking around the neighborhood. I was worrying. Feeling a tad overwhelmed by unknowns and inevitable change.

But then the strangest thing comforted me.

Childbirth.

Childbirth? you say. Yep. Weird, but true.

I started thinking about labor pains and contractions. How when you tense up and fight them, it makes everything worse. But when you relax into them and let them do their thing, it's not so bad and you become more productive.

Change is being birthed in our life right now. We may not want it, but it's coming nevertheless. All the steps along the way are like labor pains. Necessary pain to get to the other side. If I just relax into the change, I think it won't be so bad.

Can labor management techniques really apply to the stress of life?

As I walked I tried to let go of the tension and relax into the idea of change. I pictured myself in that labor and deliver room. In a matter of minutes, I was happily searching the street for butterflies and squirrels, enjoying the company of my two giggly boys.

Adventures in Medicaid

So I once had this nightmare doctor. I was stuck with her for over two years. While in college and still on my mom's HMO, I had to stay within a certain network and no other doctors were accepting new patients at the time. I finally escaped and found an awesome replacement. But the nightmare doctor's name is forever burned in my brain.

Years after I had moved on, I was retelling part of the saga to a friend. At a certain point, she interjected with, "Her name wasn't Dr. So-and-So, was it?"

YES! Indeed it was.

My friend had the same story. Stuck with the lady. We laughed about it - it was funny now that it was in the past.

Well, today, my past met my present. Or at least too close for my comfort.

With our household in its currently unemployed and uninsured state, our kids qualified for some sort of Medicaid program. I had to basically pick a doctor out of a hat. I scrolled through hundreds of names in a database, hoping to pick a good one. I settled on the most friendly sounding one I ran across and then hoped for the best.

Today was the day we would find out how we did.

I walked up to the door with Nolan in my arms and stopped midstep when I read the letters applied to the glass door. There were two names.

Dr. Out-of-a-Hat, MD
Dr. So-and-So, MD

Yikes. I figured it couldn't be a good sign, but I decided to see it through. I mean, our appointment wasn't with nightmare Dr. So-and-So, it was with Dr. Out-of-a-Hat. And maybe he was alright, despite his dubious association with Dr. So-and-So.

Nolan was in a good mood and the nurses were nice. And strangely, we never even met Dr. Out-of-a-Hat. Nor did we run into Dr. So-and-So. Instead we met with Dr. Cocky Intern and a med student.

Apparently it was a training clinic, where Dr. Out-of-a-Hat and Dr. So-and-So were the bosses. Hmmmm...would've been nice to know beforehand. But I was willing to keep an open mind. After all, how hard can a well baby visit be anyway?

And it was okay until Dr. Cocky Intern stated that Nolan needed FIVE immunization shots today. He didn't like it when I objected to that amount. He wanted to know why in the world I wouldn't want to do that. "Three is a lot, but what's two more?" was his logic.

I looked down at my precious, trusting 18 lb. 6 ounces of sweetness and thought, Is this guy serious?!

Ugh. Everything I hate about doctors. (No offense to the nice people in the medical profession. I've just had a slew of bad experiences).

I knew he would scoff at my autism connection concerns. And he did. And immediately felt compelled to inform me of "the medical facts" on the matter. Because I'm just like all the other idiotic, misinformed parents who are mistakenly concerned, insinuated Dr. Cocky Intern.

Tough. It's my baby. Idiotic or not, I'll go with my instincts and a lower number of stuff being injected into my child in one day, thank-you-very-much.

Nolan and I survived our experience and decided to let the condescension roll off our shoulders. But not without some added tension to those shoulders and some desperate wishing for our wonderful former doctor. Who will now be dubbed: Dr. We-love-you-more-than-we-ever-knew-and-desperately-want-you-back.

Not Me! Monday

It's not me who completely LOST HER MIND this week. My own behavior would never lead me to believe I was pregnant...if I didn't know it definitely wasn't the case. Not me. I'm always organized, logical and completely balanced and focused.

It wasn't me who freaked out because I lost Nolan in our very own house this week. It wasn't me who frantically checked every room and even enlisted the help of Bob and Matthew. When we found him, the little cutie was not playing quite contentedly on the floor with a pile of books -- right where I had left him just minutes before.

Nolan was born last December, so it wasn't me who had never put him in the church nursery until yesterday. And I wasn't completely nervous to leave him there, despite the fact that he'd probably have a blast. After nine whole months of gathering courage, I didn't finally take the plunge simply because, now that he's mobile, there was no way I could work with the preschoolers with him in tow.

After all the internal drama about leaving him for the first time, someone most definitely did not have to hand deliver him to me after church because I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT HIM AND NEVER PICKED HIM UP. (Thanks, Kendra!)

It wasn't this still-adjusting-to-the-fact-that-my-firstborn's-in-preschool mommy who forgot Matthew's backpack and emergency backup clothes this morning. And it's not my son who has very high odds of needing his emergency backup clothes. I didn't search the car for miscellaneous spare pairs of short, pants and underwear and then shove them into a grocery bag and triumphantly declare it a backpack. It wasn't me who then patted myself on the back for recycling my plastic bags as school accessories.

And just to be clear: I am not pregnant. For real not.

This blog carnival was started by MckMama. If you want to smile and know you're not alone, hop on over to her site and check out everyone's links. And if you're feeling really brave, have some fun and write you own or leave a comment. What haven't you been up to this week?

A loud song I sing

God is in the details.

That's the phrase that has been resounding in my head this Sunday morning.

Mies Van Der Rohe originally said the words. He was speaking of the value of simplicity and restraint in architectural design.

I wasn't so much thinking about it in architectural terms today. I was thinking of this.

Look at the detail around the eyes. We saw this bird at the Toledo Zoo a few weeks ago and I was amazed. The imagination of God is as profound as any other aspect of his person. Endlessly creative. The originator of beauty. And color. And detail.

We worked with the preschoolers this morning. The theme was Following Jesus. We made cute little flip-flops out of foam. The kids decorated with stickers, markers and the words - Follow Jesus.

After the service, while Bob and Matthew were working with the Road Crew, I was sitting in a random spare chair backstage -- feeding Nolan. The tear down folks had music playing in the auditorium and it was making its way to my ears as Nolan chugga-lugged on his bottle. It was an old Sixpence None the Richer tune.

I smiled.

God is in the details.

I first heard that same Sixpence None the Richer song after my friend Ben passed their cd along to me more than ten years ago, during my senior year of college. Ben was my new-music supplier. Being the compulsive cd jacket reader that I am, I searched their artwork for the meaning of their odd band name. The answer was C.S. Lewis and his book Mere Christianity. They were inspired by Lewis's description of how everything we have is from God, even the gifts we give him.

When we talk of a man doing anything for God or giving anything to God, I will tell you what it is really like. It is like a small child going to his father and saying, "Daddy, give me sixpence to buy you a birthday present." Of course, the father does, and he is pleased with the child's present. It is all very nice and proper, but only an idiot would think that the father is sixpence to the good on the transaction.

I thought: Wow. I have to read this book. And I did. I scarfed it down in a day and then reread the first seventy pages a few times through. Just in time to walk into the cafeteria at school and have a friend say something like," I've decided that architecture is my religion. Does anyone have anything to say about that?"

I don't know exactly what our conversation went like. But I do know that God was very present. And C.S. Lewis's presentation of truth and Jesus, fresh in my mind, seemed to be just what God had prepared my friend Erik to hear.

I brought the book for him the next day. He wasn't around. I was a little worried. But I shouldn't have been.

God is in the details.

Erik had, in fact, gotten his hands on Mere Christianity on his own. And stayed up all night reading it. Searching it out. He could tell you about his journey better than me, but when I saw him next, he said this:

"A few days ago, I didn't believe in God and thought, if Jesus existed, he was just a man. Today I know God exists and I think Jesus might have everything to do with my life."

Really?! Wow. There have only been a few other times in my life when I so thoroughly felt like I was used by God to achieve his life-changing, life-redeeming plans in someone else. It's an exhilaration that truly never wears off. I still think about it all the time.

Today, while holding my hungry little baby in the midst of post-church hustle-bustle, God brought it to mind again. With the thought of following him, in all the little details that he orchestrates. And how maybe there have been more of those moments than I realize. Small little details that I wasn't aware were connected to someone's greater story.

Like Ben probably doesn't even realize that putting that cd in my hand led me to C.S. Lewis which led me to the lunch table that day.

God is in the details.

But not only there. He's also a big picture God. And we can trust him. With the big, the small, the in-between. There is no greater adventure than following where he leads. Whether that entails passing something to a friend, opening your mouth to speak his name or caring for your children with his love and gentleness. It's always an unexpected ride. We'll never know all the ways that our ride is connected to someone else's journey. But we know that, when we follow where he leads, sometimes we plant, sometimes we water, and sometimes we sow. Only God makes it all grow. Isn't it wonderful, though, when you get to see the bloom?

I am thankful that God made me smile this morning. With a simple song. And a quote by a famous architect. The reminder that he is in the details of my life. And the lives of those around me. And that it's always worth it to follow his every prompting.

Who has known the mind of the Lord or who has been his counselor?

Delayed Reaction

Last night the house was finally quiet after the kids were finally in bed.

Out of the stillness came a horrible sob.

Bob and I ran to Matthew's room, wondering what in the world had happened.

The Dinosaur Exhibit at the zoo had closed.

And I thought he had taken the news so well while we were at the zoo Tuesday. I guess it had just hit him, trying to sleep in the darkness of his room. He will never see his beloved dinosaurs again. He sobbed his little heart out.

Grief can be like that. It comes upon you at unexpected times and you cry your eyes out.

Matthew's First Day

All in all I think it was a good day.

Even with Bob home and a 6:30 a.m. alarm, it wasn't exactly the relaxed morning I had hoped it would be.

I now see the merit of the evening bath. In the past, I must admit, I turned my nose at that portion of a nighttime routine. Who has time for that? We always have way more time to kill in the mornings and afternoons. Not so once you enter the world of school. We may need a new checklist for bedtime.
After a bubble bath, a granola bar and some apple juice, Matthew got dressed and ready to go. He excitedly slipped on his red crocs and his new red backpack and jumped onto the porch for some pictures.



Once we arrived at his classroom, he immediately spotted the dinosaur bin at one of the centers. He wanted to play with them RIGHT THEN. We moved him along to answer the Question of the Day: "How do you feel about your first day of Preschool?" The choices were: Happy, Excited, Nervous, or Scared. He was very certain that he was HAPPY. Not excited, not nervous. Happy was the word. Happy is good. My little boy is feeling happy to start school. Which made me happy too.
He was, however, not feeling happy to start the morning with Circle Time. Wouldn't the morning be happier if it began with Dinosaur Time? We reminded him that he had to follow his teacher's schedule for the day and then left him there. He was more concerned about the dinosaurs than our departure.

We left him in the circle, reading a dinosaur book, hoping that he would adjust well.

Bob, Nolan and I played in a strangely quiet house for two hours before it was time to head back.

When his teacher opened the door at 11:30, all the kids came running out to meet their parents. Matthew ran to us with a huge smile on his sweet face. **Relieved sigh** He had a good day.

Details were hard to come by. His favorite part was -- surprise, surprise -- playing at the Dinosaur Center with two blue T-Rexs. That's about all we could get out of him at first. But we soon found a new tactic. Matthew was more forthcoming about Buddy's first day at Preschool. Buddy is the invisible baby T-Rex that sneaked to school in Matthew's backpack.

Apparently Buddy had a great day.

Like Matthew, he also liked playing with the dinosaurs, but didn't like it when another kid kept messing with his dinosaurs, who were pretending to be fossils. And he really liked riding a red bike in the gym. He thought that his teacher was just pretending when she asked them to clean up the toys. She assured them that she wasn't. And she didn't even help, said Buddy -- because, after all, she didn't make the mess.

Smart teacher.

His teacher also read them two books. The first one was called "I Like School." The other one was about how God created the world. Buddy and Matthew practiced writing their ABC's and enjoyed snack time. They also learned Hopscotch and Who Stole the Cookie from the Cookie Jar?

Reading through the monthly newsletter, I asked Matthew about the virtue they are focusing on this month:

Me: "Did Ms. Lisabeth also teach you about self-control?"

Matthew: "Maybe?" ....convenient memory loss?

We celebrated the day with lunch at Panera Bread, followed by playtime at the mall Play Area. When we got home, we played. We played store and baseball. Matthew was Buddy and I was Ms. Lisabeth.

I think, in Preschool language, that means he enjoyed his day. And likes his new teacher.
Hooray for the first day!

A Number-Hater in the Land of Bulls and Bears...

Last week I dipped my toe into a new world.

A world of bulls and bears - supposedly. I really don't know what that has to do with anything. Except lots of banging and yelling playing Pit in college. But I do know that it has nothing to do with my normal mommy world. Like Mr. Brown Can Moo or Nolan's precious Teddy. Previously this other world seemed like outer space to me. Or place for yuppies in movies or uber-nerds or the very wealthy.

Nevertheless, after seeing my dad's dabbling success in recouping his retirement losses from the recession, my interest was peaked. It took a while to officially get everything set up. Then everything was in place, but I didn't do anything about it.

Until I got the call. My dad called to tell me it was a good day for it.

And so I nervously stuck my toe into the crazy world of the stock market.

The small little 401k we (read: Bob) had built over the years had been slashed in half during this recession. We moved it over to a self-managing account and figured, if nothing else, we can't do much worse than the company managing it did last year.

The first day I bought two different stocks. Yesterday I put in my first sell order. I didn't expect to be excited enough to jump up and down and shout yahoo. But I was. More than once, if you must know.

Who knew? The stock market's actually FUN.

Even for me, a self-declared number-hater.

Rolling with the Punches

Today we made some FABulous lemonade. Figuratively speaking.

It was a Matthew's Choice day. Since he enters The World of School tomorrow, we let him choose a special activity today. But things didn't exactly go as planned and we all learned a lesson or two in rolling with the punches.

Plan A: Flint Children's Museum. This was Matthew's first choice. A creative one, I thought. Since we've never even been there before. We just keep meaning to go. We hopped on the website to figure out how to get there, only to see the words CLOSED sprawled all over their calendar. Closed for TWO WHOLE WEEKS. Bummer.

If you know Matthew, you know he is not fond of change. Once his mind is set on one thing, it's pretty tricky to get him to shift gears, both physically and mentally. But eventually we got there.

Plan B: The Water Park at our local community center. Before we knew it, the excitement for Plan B far outweighed the original excitement over Plan A. Awesome, we were back in business.

We quickly (an hour and a half later, after Nolan's nap and much mad-dash preparation) got the kids swimsuited up and gathered up all the necessary gear for a day out with small children. We happily hopped out of the car, loaded up the stroller with all our gear and walked up to the entrance. A blue piece of paper was taped to the door. It read CLOSED FOR YEARLY MAINTENANCE.

Really? You've got to be kidding.

We stood there in disbelieve, the hysterical cries of a disappointed child as the appropriate soundtrack.

Plan C: The Zoo. When we got him calm enough to think rationally, Matthew decided that visiting the butterflies at the zoo would be fun. Hooray for a new plan. We all switched gears, rushed home to change into plain-clothes and get zoo-ready in fifteen minutes flat.

(I know, I know. I've hijacked you unknowingly on another zoo post. It just couldn't be helped. And in case you're wondering, I'm not even a little bit sorry.)

We knew that there were a few possible dangers threatening our happiness at the zoo. Number One: Rain. Number Two: the fact that his beloved Dinosaur Exhibit had closed on Labor Day and Matthew didn't know it yet. As it turned out, the unknown Number Three turned out to be the real problem.

Silly me suggested continuing our zoo traditions by stopping at Tim Horton's for our customary Iced Cappuccino (for me) and chocolate Timbits (for Matthew). I wanted to up the fun ante on our crazy day of follies. Harmless, I thought. Until we heard the words WE'RE OUT OF CHOCOLATE ONES come blaring through the drive-thru speaker.

More hysterical crying ensued.

Daddy came to the rescue. So did Dunkin Donuts. Pshew.

And so, with Ice Cappuccino and chocolate donuts in hand, we hopped on the freeway and started making our lemonade. Being overcast, almost drizzling and the first day of school for all the local districts, the zoo was practically empty. The leaves are starting to change and the air was filled with the wonderfully nostalgic smell of autumn. Ahhhhh... I felt giddy. The day was looking up.
Matthew has a recent love affair with butterflies, so the butterfly house was our first stop. He ran around chasing them with a smile of sheer joy. I was astounded by the vibrant color of the blue morphos flittering around us. And Nolan was slightly terrified. Which was adorable. And Bob did his best to capture it all on film.The otters, usually asleep, were swimming around playfully. When they are active, otters are the one of the coolest creatures to watch. Again, Nolan was nervous but adorable.Along our path we passed a red panda, siberian tigers, and rhinos. In the ape exhibit, an adorable baby chimp entertained us. Mammoth gorillas came right up to the glass; one picked its nose and ate it right in front of us. The king of the jungle came out of its cave to let us know who was boss with a mighty, resounding roar. We have never heard anything like it. Priceless moments.It started raining on our way back to the entrance. A fun, joyous rain. A fall rain. Walking in the rain can be so peaceful. Today was like that.On our way out, we decided to hit Mr. B's in Royal Oak rather than suffer through rush hour traffic. The pizza was half price and insanely delicious. Matthew gobbled up two whole pieces while (appropriately) sipping lemonade from a bright green straw.

Today we practiced a lesson that we are trying to live out on a grander scale: Come what may, we're rolling with the punches, because this is the day that the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.

perks

We've got a small case of Peter Pan syndrome going on over here. Matthew doesn't want to grow up. He officially declared that he "wants to stay yittle forever!"

This recent resurgence of Peter Pan philosophy was sparked by the birth of our precious great nephew, Aiden. Our family of four went to visit the newest Johannes arrival last week and ever since, Matthew has reverted to his post-Nolan fears.

We had a long talk this weekend about the advantages and disadvantages of growing up. I'll give you one guess who listed the advantages and who argued the disadvantages. I have to hand it to him -- he does have a point. There are a lot of perks to being young. You get tons of attention. Everyone does everything for you. You have minimal responsibility and pretty much just play all day.

Matthew is extremely concerned that he will outgrow his toys. What if he gets too big for his baseball tee? Or his Little Tykes car? He declared that he will drive that little car forever, nothing else. If he needs to go somewhere, like Target, he told me that he will just have me drive him in my car. He has it all figured out.

There are a lot of perks to growing up too. Matthew is not fully convinced yet, but there are.

We experienced one of them Sunday afternoon. We found Matthew a bike on Craigslist. It's a 14" frame with training wheels. He hopped right on and didn't want to get off. Even to drive it home. He's been pedaling all over the neighborhood the last two days.I seized the opportunity to point out the great benefits of getting older. He couldn't disagree, so instead he muttered, "But this is the only thing I'm gonna like about it!"

Okay, buddy.Tomorrow he starts Preschool. I'm pretty sure he's going to love it like he loves dinosaurs. And his new bike. Hopefully he'll decided that maybe he can just like that part of getting older too.

mighty

This morning, during worship time, I found myself barely able to sing the words. This song chokes me up. Almost every time. When I open my mouth to sing the chorus, I am flooded with names. Names of people I love who don't know Jesus. At least not as their savior, friend and king. I am flooded with names of people I love whom God is mighty to save. Whom he is able to move mountains to save. People whom he already has moved mountains to save. This morning two particular people where on my heart, followed by others I love so much. I was reminded again that God is the one who is mighty. Thankfully. He is mighty to save. Mighty to overcome our doubts, stubbornness, fears, obstacles and desire for independence. Whatever it is. He is able. And I asked again that he intervene and shine his light into their lives.

(Click here to view the Mighty to Save video from Hillsong)

Everyone needs compassion,
Love that's never failing;
Let mercy fall on me.

Everyone needs forgiveness,
The kindness of a Saviour;
The Hope of nations.

Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.

Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.

So take me as You find me,
All my fears and failures,
Fill my life again.

I give my life to follow
Everything I believe in,
Now I surrender.

My Saviour, He can move the mountains,
My God is Mighty to save,
He is Mighty to save.
Forever, Author of salvation,
He rose and conquered the grave,
Jesus conquered the grave.

Shine your light and let the whole world see...