It's interesting how our happenstance affects our thoughts on God and truth.  This last week I've had conversations with siblings about the role of family and about parenting, with strangers at church about salvation, with Buddhists on a train about God, with Mormon's at their church about the Bible, and with many others about various topics.  My mind has be flooded with deep, allbeit frustrating, thoughts and queries.

In fact, all these thoughts and conversations have been so exhausting, I will not think about them anymore, but will simply give you a snapshot from yesterday:

Sam and I loitered on the sidewalk with our respective sons in their respective strollers.  We examined each stroller and discussed the vast differences between them.  Whit was in his carseat, nestled into the backward-facing, eight-wheeled folding stroller, with cargo space, plastic wheels, and many adjustment and swivel options -- it was a steal from Craigslist, and it was high class.  Eddy was in a borrowed stroller that a New Zealander had given Sam & Nicki.  It actually didn't look like a stroller at all, but more like a two-wheeled dolly for moving boxes, only with a seat and handlebars, canopy, and straps on the back for converting to a backpack!

Finally Nicki poked out of the door. "The cake will be done cooking in 2 minutes."  It was hard, but we managed to wait, then commenced down the sidewalk.

Around the corner we strolled, and on through my brother's neighborhood, of small old houses and low-income apartments.  I breathed in the dry cooling air of west central California's July.  Everything struck me as old here, compared to Wisconsin.  Maybe it's because the trees have longer growing seasons. Maybe it's because the sun beats down so harshly, softening colors.  Maybe it's because items last longer with the absence of corrosive rust.  Or, maybe it's simply my old childhood memories of the state, with its hibiscus hedges covered in lavish silky blossoms, it's giant Eucalyptus trees, it's waving Queen Palms against the white sky, the dusty earth, and the friendly Hispanic culture I've grown to miss.

As sunset approached, Sam pointed out friends' houses, street changes, and houses for sale.  Whit looked up at his daddy with interest one moment, and was asleep the next.  Eddy loves dolly rides, so this stroller was his favorite.  He tested the limits of every novelty, and tested our patience.  But the many many kids playing and biking around us kept him cheerful.  I conversed with my brother while basking in the beauties we went through, and Nicki walked, mostly quiet and happy...happy for the company...happy for the weather...happy to be a mom.