A lot has been happening lately with very little time to write. The wedding season is kicking into gear. Our wedding video business is busier this year than last year. Woohoo! But that means less time with the family, which sucks. If you want to see some cool demos of what our company does, check them out HERE.

Sunday, we took the kids to see Nacho Libre. Yes, that’s a second viewing for Deb and me within a week. (I wrote a little bit about Nacho Libre HERE.) Unfortunately, the movie was much funnier the first time. What struck me the second time, though, was the journey of Nacho’s friend, Esqueleto. I don’t want to give the plot away, but it was cool observing how Esqueleto changed through Nacho’s bungling, yet authentic influence. Esqueleto begins as a very self-centered man who doesn’t believe in God and “hates all the orphans in the world.” In a moment of watching injustice against a young boy, Esqueleto’s attitude towards orphans changes and he gets involved. By the movie’s climax, he encourages Nacho, saying, “We should pray.”

After the movie, we took the family to Chinatown. It was hot, humid and crowded. But we had a nice time hanging out together and visiting the different shops. There was this moment at the end of the day that I wish I could have captured and framed forever. We were window shopping. I turned around and saw my kids, each with a Boba tea in hand, looking through the shop windows at the various trinkets and food. In that moment, I was filled with such pride and admiration for my children. As pastor’s kids, they have endured so much junk through the years. Yet, through it all they have emerged as such wonderful people. I love who they are and I love who they are becoming. And I’m also reminded at how inadequate and ill-equipped I feel to raise them to be Jesus’ apprentices in this world.

Also, I wanted to say, “Death sucks!” Trixie, one of our kids’ cherished hamsters, died yesterday. It was pretty traumatic for everyone. When we first got the two hamsters, I thought, “Cool, disposable pets.” But they quickly captured the kids’ hearts and found their place in our family. Sometime while Deb and the kids were on their morning walk, Trixie passed away. My youngest found her. I tried to spend time helping each of them process their feelings. Chris asked, “Do hamsters go to heaven.” I’m sorry but my Master’s degree in theology did not prepare me for those kind of painful questions from a six year old. I also discovered that Trixie’s death really hit Michael hard. He would talk to Trixie every evening and share what had happened through his day. It was his form of journaling. When I went up to say, “Good night” to him, he had moved her cage out of his room because it was too painful. Danielle, who processes death with a lot of difficulty, took Trixie’s death pretty hard and was depressed through the afternoon. Cathy spent the afternoon trying to comfort her. But when I got home, Cathy broke down as I hugged her. We’re going to miss you, Trixie. You were really loved around here.