An Autumn Celebration!

Strewn toys, sweet drawings on my refrigerator, empty treat trays, decorations (that aren’t placed just so anymore), and frosting bowls with finger trails in them. Signs of a day well spent.

DSC_0052

 

DSC_0051

 

DSC_0056

 

DSC_0053

 

DSC_0058

 

DSC_0059

 

Micaiah wanted to celebrate this beautiful harvest season. “A fall party!!” he kept saying.

He planned games, made decorations and wrote his own invitations complete with a handprint turkey.

He was kind enough to let Adriel choose and make treat recipes (with help from Grandma of course).

We practiced welcoming guests, taking coats and offering beverages.

I am one proud mama. I set out one decoration and helped a few mothers understand what the mysterious turkey card meant that their child brought home. Grandmas helped with the cookies. Other than that, this was a kid-thrown fling. How cool is that?!

It was a time of enjoying friends and showing love.

Blessed, I feel. (How Yoda was that? Sorry)

Advertisements

How To Know If He’s a Keeper

This is for all you single ladies, aspiring/new dairy cow owners and anyone else who might want to chuckle at my misery.

IMG_20150916_192549

Milking – Thank you Cow Can’t Kick contraption!

Sunday evening I had my new dairy cow “home” for 24 hours. Lambda expressed her discontent at my milking technique by kicking the bucket and dancing around. Finally, for whatever reason (probably something I did wrong because let’s face it: I’m a nube.) she kicked me. We’re not talking about kicking the bucket over and nicking my hand. This was a carefully aimed karate chop that got me in the forehead, the arm and the thigh all in one foul swoop.

I proceeded to holler at my husband, who is currently nearing deaf old man status due to a couple of ear infections. After 5 yells, or something like that, he saunters over holding the baby and asks how it’s going. I don’t even remember what I said, but it was something like, “It’s not going! I just got kicked in the fricking head!!”

I turned into a soppy puddle of emotions. I apologized over and over because I thought for sure I couldn’t possibly milk that monster. He asked if we just needed to get a milk machine. That is after all what she’s used to. My response, “We need a freaking craigslist add, that’s what we need!”

Apparently my colorful language is lacking.

All evening Nic kept telling me I can do this. You need to know that I have a massive propensity to romanticize things. My romanticized version of dairying didn’t really have a kicking cow in it. But even when I told myself it might not be quite that smooth, I pictured a little spilt milk here and there. Go ahead, shake your head. But the Bessie I imagined was much more…friendly

In actuality, I can count more sore spots on my body that the times I’ve spilt milk. (Although I do occasionally have to milk one teat onto the ground when I can’t get the bucket right under her udder.) So I cried on and off all night long. Here I had hunted down a milk cow, dragged my whole family 3+ hours away to get her and she was such a poop!

I was rolling all of these things in my brain-the inadequacy, the bumps & bruises, I felt like I heaped a burden on Nic because I was being a wimp and on top of it we had to get up at the crack of dawn to do it again.

I’m so so so so sorry.

That’s when Nic put his hand on my shoulder and said, “You need to know that I’m not frustrated with you. At all. I would do this by myself everyday for my family.

DSC_0191

And that ladies, is how you know you have a good one.

Just when I thought I was irresponsible, irrational and wussy (Ok, maybe a little on that last one) in swoops my super-husband to rescue me. He reminded me that we made a decision that we felt this was best for our family’s health and he was going to make sure it happened.

God made men and women equal but different. Both in his image, but with different gifts. Even though I smell like cow half the time, I feel like quite the tea cup these days: feminine, fragile, even pretty somedays (you know under the snot and…stuff). But ladies, you know you’ve got a good one when he makes decisions according to what is true and good and stands for them. I’m so thankful for my sturdy thermos and God’s grace which has given us nine beautiful years.

Two vessels, both filled with the Spirit of God, but oh so different in form and function. 

Let me tell you some things…


…about the last few days. I don’t even know where to start.

I haven’t worn my wedding rings in four days.

My body aches. Particularly my back, forearms, wrists, elbow (slightly unrelated to the rest) and fingers. Oh my poor fingers.

IMG_20150914_121110

Day 2

Day 4

Day 4

I have this lovely bruise on my arm with one on my thigh and a lump on my head to match.

I randomly break into tears. Also spent most of Saturday night crying.

This is starting to sound like domestic violence. So let me just tell you that I am the proud owner of not one, not two but three dairy cows: 1 “broken” heifer who can’t seem to hold on to a calf, 1 holstein bull calf and 1 bossy mama (¾ Jersey ¼ Dutch belt {the Oreo cows}) named Lambda, who is in milk. She just freshened last month. (And all of the country people nod in understanding at my broken body and emotions.)

Today is also my anniversary, which I failed to remember until I went to write the date on the milk today.”What day is it?” I asked out loud. I answered my self “The 16th…the 16th?!” And Nic beat me getting the words out of his mouth, “Happy Anniversary!”  We both laughed because we have a wonderfully enjoyable marriage and that’s exactly why we didn’t remember. We’ve been working hard on this transition to things that we feel like God wants us to do: hard work and discipleship. We’ve been so busy lately we don’t even know what day it is!

Anyways, it’s all my fault really. You could say it’s his fault for being such a good man, but…

I made him read the chapter in Keeping a Family Cow on the differences between Raw and Pasteurized/Homogenized milk. Nic likes to call it treated milk like they do in the UK. It has a nice negative connotation to it. Don’t get me wrong, these are absolutely necessary processes in order to get milk from dairies to milk companies to grocery stores and finally to your table. But they’re not necessary for the family cow’s milk. And most of my family doesn’t do well with processed cows milk. He read the chapter and immediately said, “I’m ready to buy one.”

For those of you who don’t know us personally. We live in a parsonage. You know, the type of house that pastors rent (fo free) as part of the salary package. You know, a house…with a yard. We don’t even have a piece of dirt to our name! (Which reminds me, Suzie-mom if you’re reading this: I’m beginning to seem like some other landless herdsmen we know. We’re not planning on our livestock camping permanently. Love you! Insert cheesy, please forgive my mess smile here. )

Can you say CREAM?!

Can you say CREAM?!

Wow, what a roller coaster.

It turns out this blogger made a convenient list of 10 reasons your cow might be kicking. We have subjected ours to at least 5. So, yeah. Sore hands (and everything else). Cranky cow.

But oh that fresh milk. And cream. And buttah!!!

It’s worth it for my family to healthy. But sometimes…I just have to cry about it.

 

 

Reading Stack & Real Life: Double Update!

IMG_2007I often wonder what future me will look back and wish I had done differently, mostly when it comes to parenting. I wonder what my kids will wish I had done differently. None of us are perfect, and we can all look back and find fault. That’s why it’s so important that we rely on grace, not perfection. I guess I say this as sort of a disclaimer. I don’t claim to be better than the generations before me. I have much to learn.

Over the years of overanalyticalizationizing everything, (thank you Rachel W. in 9th grade for that description of my brain functions) I have noticed some of the effects of the world I grew up in. Today for example, I’m terrified to tell you that I have a dream, because what if I fail. I grew up feeling like perfection alone was acceptable, anything less was not worth my time.

I’m sure my parents never intended for me to feel this way. But I began to stop trying at anything. I only did things that I was pretty sure I would not only succeed in, but be on top. MVP. 4.0 1st place. I felt like I had failed in doing anything less. Because of this, I basically got out of the habit of practicing or studying. I only chose activities and classes that I knew I would do great at. Sometimes, if I had some kind of adversity, I would accept second best. Often, I would hope for an injury to fall back on, just in case.

Nic recognized this early in our marriage, probably around the time I wouldn’t give 100% rock climbing until I got hurt (or angry). Since we started figuring this out early, Nic has always encouraged me to practice different things. He encouraged me to do things that I enjoyed, even if I’m not very good at them. (Ahem, painting…)

So before I show you my newest stack of reading materials, I have to be a little vulnerable.

I think…I want to be…a flower farmer. I love the idea of rows and rows of beautiful flowers. I’m hoping to work towards growing for market. (Flowers for you, flowers for me, flowers for everyone!) I’m not looking for a full-time job, so this won’t be an enormously large-scale thing. But maybe it will help support our endeavors to grow our own food.

That was way harder to type than you will ever know! I’m not exceptional at growing things. I can grow things, but I’m always running into some hiccup and things only grow…so, so.

IMG_2007

So step one: Read The Flower Farmer

Step two: Successfully grow flowers. Lots of them. I’m going to try to grow more flowers than I ever have before! (Yaaaayyy!)

I’ll probably fill out an application to the market, just in case things go really well. Sellers have to notify them when you’ll be there (every week). So if things don’t pick up right away or I don’t have enough every week, I won’t worry about it.

Somewhere between steps one and two I should probably figure out whose property I’ll be using for this adventure of mine. (Since, the hubs and I are basically squatters renters in a parsonage situation.)

Also I am working my way through the other three books (more slowly since my favorite UPS guy brought my flower book). I’ve been feeling (and dragging Nic along too :) like we’re falling into habits we would condemn in others. We are not spending enough time making disciples who make disciples. We aren’t doing a very good job asking people to be a part of our everyday lives in order to set an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith and in purity. So the other books are helping us to delve back into what the Word says about the physical & spiritual care of others.

So there you go, a reading stack and some real life Elicia for you.

Good day!

 

The Why: Time Edition

The it the second post since in which I’ve started writing out why we do things the way we do. People who know us are probably thinking, “You mean, the hard way?” …maaaaybeee…

Anyways, I’m mostly recording this for my own sake. It helps me to remember why Nic and I have structured our lives the way we have, and you dear friends (I accidentally originally typed fiends, which made me giggle) just happen to subscribe to the journal of alphabet soup that explodes out of my brain now and then.

Corn Sprout 1

So first I talked about food, which was super easy. Even if people have an opinion, I think it would be difficult to find a good reason for expecting me to do something differently. It was low risk. I likey.

Buuuut, now on how we use our time. A wee bit more touchy when you live sub-level to a multi-lense cellular magnification device.

What does our life even look like? First the how:

Daily, our life looks a wee bit different from many families. First, Nic works when and where it suits him. This means, while he has a lot of work to do, he gets to remain involved in a lot of our daily lives. Most days he and I are up earlier than the kids (more on that later) so we can spend time with Jesus, spend time with each other and then discuss our day.

Sometime Nic eats breakfast with us (yay for us!). Either way, we usually get some things done around here and then he gets to “work”. He heads to the church office, the “office” (aka his standing desk in the garage) or sometimes a coffee shop depending on what needs done.

DSC_0594

While he works for a few hours, the kids and I get our day started. This usually looks like breakfast, clothes and the like, and then slave labor chores. While I finish  absolutely necessary household duties (such as the rolling hills of dirty dishes or the vast mountain of laundry) the kids are supposed to be playing.

Our kids don’t usually get out of bed until 8 or 9 or maybe later for Micaiah. So between the aforementioned tasks and whatever life throws at us, that usually brings us to much time.

The afternoon brings naps (praise Jesus) and “structured” (kind of, I mean structured for me) school with Micaiah. This usually looks like some reading and discussion before I get him started on whatever activities he might be doing on his own.

We eat dinner early, around 5.

Then, we get ready for our evening which may involve guests for dinner, Bible study or outreach night with some teenagers or other miscellaneous activities. Our “free” evenings are few and far-between.

In the late evening we do more chores, a little cleaning up, get ready for bed and the next day. Besides normal bedtime stuff (like teeth brushing) we read a Bible story and pray with our children. Lately Nic has been doing this with the older kids while I finish straightening some things and then put Eloise to bed.

My day goes much better Everyone’s day goes better if I can just wake up to a cleanish floor and orderly throw pillows and blankets on the couch. A clean counter is nice, but I mostly just do it to keep the pests away. I can get from my room to my spot on the couch without seeing the kitchen, so if it weren’t for the gross factor of having a dirty kitchen I wouldn’t worry about until breakfast time. Weird? Maybe. But orderly pillows make for a sane mother in this house.

Mop, girl, mop!

Mop, girl, mop!

Also, if there is more “stuff” on the floor then I feel like I can pick up before Eloise needs to be in bed, I sweep it into a pile and pretend I don’t see it in the morning. Then, I assign that chore ASAP to one of my beautiful children. I don’t even know how the stuff gets there, it’s insane what accumulates in one day. Someday I’ll take a picture for you, then you’ll know were really friends.

Now to the why:

Much of the way we disciple others happens in the evenings: Bible studies, meals, sports etc. So we’ve always put our kids to bed later than the average family. The result has been kind of cool. Our children all get the amount of sleep they need. They just start and end later than many other families. The flexibility of homeschooling means that we can continue this as long as it works for us, not worrying about kids who need to be up to catch a bus or drive to school.

I love that the Hebrew day traditionally began in the evening. The way I spend the end of my day, drastically effects the next one. So I to do my best to prepare for a good day.

I didn't even know a "felfie" was a thing. But here we are taking a farm animal selfie.

Because we like to “do things the hard way”. We do a lot of working at home. I prefer things handmade, done ourselves and of course, beautiful. I’ve encountered some questioning on this one. When we moved here, I explained to the nice people on the board and search committee and then the congregation that we want people in our home. We do ministry at home. This was different from both our communities tendencies and the previous youth pastor & family. (Please read as different, not better. I meant what I said and I said what I meant, an elephant’s…ok I’ve digressed :) So, I think they didn’t believe me.

Three years later, (yes three, gotta love slow moving change where the roads are dirt) it’s finally actually working like that. For a while, even I was wondering why I didn’t go to this or that. But remaining homeward oriented has paid off. Young mothers, unbelieving neighbors, employees from the business across the street, people who know people on the aforementioned list, and completely random people who know this is a parsonage are all among the many visitors we get in any given week.

A walk.

A talk.

A cup of coffee or tea.

It starts differently, but inevitably some need whether emotional, physical or spiritual, mine or theirs is always met.

It’s beautiful.

And it’s just one of the many dreams that have come true for me lately. See, fairy tales do happen: in the way of good and perfect gifts from God.

Again, working at home allows us to be available to people and gives us a unique opportunity to show people we care by setting our work down or involving them in it.

As a socially awkward (awkward is such a fittingly awkward looking word!) introvert, it would be a bad idea for me to be leading on up front situations. And as a creative person it doesn’t work out well if I take on administrative roles. By that I mean that I’m fine through the whole process and everyone else is panicking.

DSC_0419

We’re all gifted differently. Women are different from men and different from each other. We continue to try to evaluate things (read: I occasionally overanalyze things) to ensure that we’re honoring the Lord, our brothers and sisters in Christ and our community with our time. It’s a lot to balance.

Let’s just say I’m super-dee-duper thankful for grace.

Counting My Frustrations

When times are difficult you’re supposed to count your blessing right? Well, I’ve been doing that for a while and it finally dawned on me: I need to count my frustrations! Stick with me…it turns out ok.

photo 4

It all started when I was thinking… i mean talking my baby…okay I was talking to myself. It happens, ok?

Anyways, I was having a wonderful little chat with myself when I realized how ridiculous it all sounded. And not because I was talking to myself either, just because of what I was muttering on about. So here goes. In the last few weeks these are the things that have made me whine, stomp, growl at the world and call my mommy:

  • I think it started when rodents (otherwise known as adorable little bunnies…die, bunnies, die!) ate the entirety of my spinach and lettuce crop. Fantastic.
  • Rodents invaded my house. Mouse infestation, which only says one thing to me: gross. I armed myself with a boatload of traps and two (maybe three? eh details, details) kinds of poison.
  • The poison worked (happy dance) at which point the aforementioned mice went off and died in some corner of my attic where apparently, flies and maggots did their thing. (I certainly didn’t go check.) Fly infestation. I woke up to a stupid (yes stupid, it’s a fantastic adjective, I know) number of flies in my house. Great! (Make a whiny phone call to my mama.)
  • The bees came back. You see, I live across from commercial beekeepers. When the bees come back they immediately start foraging. It’s like a carpet of bees in my yard. Usually that means no playing in the yard for like week. Oh yah! I forgot to mention that I’m afraid of bees. Don’t judge me, I know they just want their pollen. So I work alongside them, just as long as I’m clothed from my neck to my toes. So our “week” turned into like 6. Apparently they’re scaling up business over there and they keep bringing
  • more bees to their little home base across the street. But I like honey, so I work around the bees’ schedule: early mornings, late evenings and let people think I’m avoiding the heat of the day.
  • We got busy. (This the point where you start to say, “really? everyone is busy.”) But yes, we got so busy that I basically did chores at home and nothing else. Did I say chores? I mean I washed a few clothes because we we’re completely out of clean laundry and tried to keep dishes out of the sink. At the risk of sounding like a crazy yogi, my whole rhythm got thrown off and I called my mama again. “Nothing feels right. Everything is off, we’re so busy!”
  • Mold. Yes, mold. In the house that I live in and breathe air in. Not only did I have a rainbow of mold in the wall right behind my couch, everyone thought I was crazy for being disgusted by it. “Mold spores are everywhere,” they say. Yes, but mold colonies are not supposed to be behind my couch! On top of that we had to uninstall the newly installed air conditioning unit that caused the mold which would have it’s own bullet on this list except that it got freezing cold out side (I mean like 50-60° but it’s August people).
  • I moved out. In our hurry to just get it out, we removed the mold all wrong. You know, according to the experts over at google. So I decided to give our friendly neighborhood spores a few days of quality time with a box fan. Of course I then procrastinated moving back. It was a little difficult keeping both houses clean and my new dairy cow spoiled and my garden going, so after a week…
  • During my little mini-vaca, I came home to get some clean clothes and food only to find, oh just another mouse in one of our “just in case” traps. I also found it somewhere particularly yucky to me, but whatever.

Chlo-chlo

  • Also while we were living in two houses at once, I found my bred cow (how shall we say this) spotting. (Sorry non-animal people, I guess this is farm life!) Why is my pregnant cow bleeding from her lady parts? Well, because most likely she’s not pregnant anymore. Maybe just maybe my praying for a bovine miracle will land us milking Chloe right on time this January, but most likely it was wither signs of a spontaneous abortion or a heat cycle. Thankfully, I’m working with some cool ladies who appear to love Jesus and have good integrity. If she is open (farm/ranch people language for no meat and no milk up in that heifa!) we won’t be out our lots of dollars.
  • Some other stuff that involve other people so I can’t write them on the internet, but believe me: very, very frustrating. 

Okay, you say.

You’ve heard enough.

So as I whined out loud (to myself and also my very wonderful, patient parents & husband) I sounded ridiculous. A little bit of wildlife? Some completely normal farm problems? What am I whining about?! I felt the same way and just kept asking myself, “What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I just get over my sinful heart and be happy, let it all roll off?”

Thank Jesus for good “older women” in my life! “Maybe God’s not trying to teach you a lesson,” they say. “What if you’re just supposed to keep on, keepin’ on? Just wait on God’s perfect timing.” Apparently I can even be narcissistic in my problem-solving. It must be me and my sin problem. Never mind Satan out there trying to steal, kill and destroy!

Okay, I’m better. I got myself some therapy (aka rearranged my living room, I’ll take some pictures for you…you’re welcome).

So I’ll just enjoy the birds and the bees (wait what?), the “wildlife” and all of the wonderful people that stop by “the parsonage” while I wait on God’s perfect timing for the perfect chunk of dirt to grow my green beans and keep my milk cow.

And that’s the rest of the story.

Tapestry of Grace vs Classical Conversations

When I came across the idea of classical schooling, I was sold. I immediately went on the hunt for curricula, long before I had school aged children. I had a friend who was going through the same process; She landed on Classical Conversations and I was impressed with Tapestry of Grace. Although we are happy with Tapestry, I recently attended an informational meeting regarding CC just to check it out. I walked out with a lot on my mind.

DSC_0240

This week I flipped through the catalogue and informational pages considering all that I had heard. All in a single moment it dawned on me, “I am not doing this.” “What?” My husband asked. “What we’re doing works wonderfully for us, why was I even thinking about switching?”

Here are some of the reasons that I don’t believe CC would work for our family. I don’t necessarily think that Tapestry is a better curriculum than CC, it’s just better for us.

  • The “majors”: At least in my first and second glances, some of the things that are huge deals for CC are things that I would not normally push quite so heavily. Just one example, I want my children to be very familiar with their world. I would want them to tell show me any country on a map. I also require them to understand the events of history geographically. But drawing from memory isn’t a major for me. It’s definitely not harmful to learn these things, but I have other things I want them to use their time and brain space for. Again, this is such a personal preference thing.
  • The yearly schedule: I currently homeschool year round. Maybe I’ll write more about why another day, but suffice it to say a traditional school year would drastically change things in our household.
  • The weekly meetings: Using a 32 week curriculum 50 weeks out of the year means great flexibility. When my son was enthralled with the culture and history of Egypt and the Israelites’ time there, we spent five weeks studying it instead of three. In fact, when I ask him to tell me about ancient cultures, he begs to tell me about Egypt whether I that’s what I”m looking for or not. Our flexible schedule allowed this. When you’re on a schedule with other families, there’s no staying behind to dig world war II style trenches in the back yard to spend an extra week living like a soldier. Everyone else is moving on.
    • On the flip-side, this could provide the kick to move on if a family had a tendency to get behind.
  • Latin: I know. I know. I know! All of those benefits of Latin, right?! Yes, but so far our family has decided to begin with Greek. It also aids in truly grasping the English language. Yes, it’s not as foundational as Latin, but if my children want to use English in the future they will have the tools they need. This is still up for discussion here and there between the very handsome head of our household and I. The thing that has us leaning toward Greek is that our children could pick up the original New Testament and read it for themselves. Done. Sold. From Alpha to Omega, I’m there.
  • Independence. This goes pretty much hand-in-hand with the flexibility issue. I have a super-independent spirit AND I’m an introvert. These two don’t exactly make me want to show up an pitch in with a bunch of other people to follow a program that doesn’t allow me to do my thing. You know, like this week is Super Science Week! It’s the end of our unit so amidst reviewing I planned five different areas of science for the kids to dig into this week. Yay for microscopes! I start to itch and squirm at the idea of squeezing our homeschool into someone else’s mold. I mean, isn’t that the beauty of homeschooling?!

Like I said, this is far from a list of things wrong with CC. Tapestry of Grace just so happens to be working perfectly for us…so far!

I would love some homeschool mama feedback! What works for you?

 

Some Moments

I’m a dreamer. I’ve made so many plans in my life! From music to medicine and far away places, I can romanticize anything. But in reality, my heart swells when I look around at the way I get use the gifts God has given me (and some things that I’m just plain terrible at) to serve my family and my community.

I find so much more joy in brewing a mean cup of coffee or a pot of tea for a neighbor than if I were working as a barista in the best coffee house in town.
…singing praises as my children all asleep…on any stage big or small.
…teaching my children all day every day…paid to teach other groups with vague hope that God’s Word would penetrate their hearts.
…making handmade things for my family and home…making an income with my craftiness.
…raising plants and animals to feed my family fresh ingredients…farming for an income.
…making fun fresh meals that my kids actually enjoy…on the Food Network ;)
…creating a peaceful environment by keeping an organized home…designing the best scandinavian cabins in the world.
IMG_1082

No matter what I could be doing with my time and energy, the opportunity to serve husband and children seems like the most beautiful thing in the world.

There is nothing else I would rather do.

To be honest, sometimes I forget. When a handful of people are all asking for something or there’s a whole roll of toilet paper in the toilet (again!) I forget how truly blessed I am. It’s so easy to forget about the vast realities of God’s faithfulness. Maybe telling all of you will be a good reminder for next time I have to break out the plunger.

The wisest of women builds her house, but folly with her own hands tears it down.
Proverbs 14:1

 

Blessings

DSC_0615

This is Micaiah…

DSC_0110

And this is Micaiah…

IMG_1115

Aaaand this is Micaiah.

Recently God has shown me how blessed I am through this boy. He is growing so much. Not just physically, he’s growing spiritually too. It’s been almost a year since he confessed faith in grace through Jesus’ work on the cross.

Today he asked if he could hand copy some Bible verses. Um, absolutely!

Yesterday he was drawing with a stick in the sand. Nic thought he was drawing the letter x over and over to mark treasure. To this he said, “No Papa! They’re crosses. Because people have to know about Jesus!”

The day before that he answered a question correctly during Bible study when the teenagers gave Nic blank stares.

Even earlier this week I was looking through a comic book we had bought. Our quick preview had missed a fairly violent image. As I reviewed it, he told me something bad was coming and that I wouldn’t like it. When I saw it, I apologized to him saying that I wished he’d never seen it. He responded, “It’s okay Mama. I didn’t put it in my brain.” This isn’t the first time he’s referred to things as worthy/unworthy of thinking about or “keeping it in his brain.” It’s not in there; he doesn’t have to think about it again. Oh how I pray he continues to be able to throw the garbage out!!

For today, I’m praising God for my blessings (and sharing a couple of mama heart tugs with you). But by His grace, Micaiah’s life will continue to shout exactly what his name means: “Who is like God?!”