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The large parking lot in front of the strip mall is usually empty. Yesterday I was driving by, minding my own business, when I realized the lot was filled to overflowing, as was a car dealership nearby. Police directed traffic. Television cameras rolled. I was tempted to turn around and join the fray – but I didn’t.
Later I learned that the mob had come from across the USA to audition for a place on the TV show, Survivor.
I have no idea if someone was chosen for the show. I do know this, though. The excitement of being on that show – or any other – could not begin to compare with the excitement at the Bateman house this week. The overwhelming response to the airing of our story on Focus on the Family has blessed us and humbled us. We are blessed because of the encouraging comments from so many of you – and we are humbled because God continues to use our story. Continue reading
Image courtesy of digitalart / FreeDigitalPhotos.net
After birthing the book I WILL NEVER this week, I keep waiting for our nice driver–don’t know his name– in his little brown truck to come to my very doorstep with my baby. I expect Mr. UPS to do a jig when he gives me the box. I expect him to offer to hand out cigars around my neighborhood while he shakes my hand profusely. I expect him to ask the baby’s name. Date of birth. He’ll know the weight better than I since he probably has it stored in his little computer. I doubt that he’ll ask about the labor, but I just may tell him anyway.
But before the little brown truck gets here with my hard copies, Amazon.com has already made the birth announcement.
Check out my baby’s birth announcement on Amazon…
As one reader suggested–the baby’s announcement arrived just in time for me to give it back to God as a Father’s Day gift. All of this was His idea anyway.
Happy Father’s Day to my Abba.
And thank you.
I have been in labor for years now. Been pushing for a long time, too!
Let me take you back to the conception so I can get your full sympathy. It’s been quite awhile since the idea was conceived that I should write a book. Morning sickness quickly followed. Carrying this baby idea for so long wore me out. My back hurt. My feet swelled. I wanted to eat for 2 or 4 or 6. Or not eat at all.
But once I embraced this infant concept, I began writing. And writing. And writing. Deleting. Copying. Pasting. Writing. Deleting. Well, you get the idea. After so many years of carrying this growing “book baby” around, I got tired. Put it on a shelf. Tried to forget it. Continue reading