Yes, that’s my husband. Even close family members don’t recognize him at first glance with that stuff on his face and in this picture even Liza looks scared of him. I blame it on his good friend Billy, who would actually tell Brad his beard needs to be trimmed based on how he keeps his facial hair. Brad said he actually likes it [because he doesn’t have to take time to shave] and that he doesn’t even really notice it. (Insert wide eyed emoticon here.) If that isn’t a great word picture to make you hunt for the log in your own eye before you go poking at someone else’s issues, I don’t know what is. At the same time, I’m glad I forget what’s on my face too or else I’d be more self conscious all day with the mess that my skin is.
Brad thinks his spraying marathon is over. I’m happy for him. Getting only six hours of sleep and only two meals a day sounds more like a punishment instead of a job you enjoy, but he does enjoy it believe it or not. I’m just wondering when my marathon will ever feel like it’s over.
Eternal perspective needed, right? A good nap won’t hurt either, and I do really love them.
Small Town Nebraska:
The ball diamond in our village, where Brad played as a kid, hasn’t been used for a real team or game in a long time, but the kids in town have taken an interest in playing there this year. Brad went with them today, you know, since his marathon is over. They did some snooping around and found a box of balls and the pitching machine from back in the day. It still worked! Talk about three excited kids.
When I saw their fear, I rose and spoke to the nobles, the officials and the rest of the people: “Do not be afraid, remember the Lord who is great and awesome…”