Our church has done a Singing Christmas Tree for about 35 years, give or take a few. It takes months of practice to memorize the music and the words, and it is difficult to stand quietly on a narrow platform with scratchy tinsel around your neck and hot lights shining into your face. But this year we are singing a collection of Michael W. Smith and Amy Grant music called "Agnus Dei." The worship experience is worth all the work, and I am glad to be a part of it. (photo by David Tolley)

I watched Eliza today, and when she woke from her nap, she just sat in my lap for about 15 minutes, quietly watching Noggin tv. She let me hold her little hand and seemed to like it. Unusual for a busy 16 month old. By the time I got this picture, she was having lunch, and her hands barely stopped moving long enough to get a clear shot.

(Photo title stolen from Jim Larkin's gallery)!

It's been a dark and dreary day here. I've had a little downtime in the middle of a very busy week. It's quiet in the house and I'm feeling kind of melancholy. Like this angel.

This is Michael Angelo and his family. He is the little one on the bottom right. They live in the Philippines, in a shack built over a cemetery. Michael Angelo was sold by his mom to a pimp for $60 who promised he would be a model and bring back a million dollars when he was 18. Thank God a social worker heard about this and got him back, explaining to the mother what would really happen (child sex slave or sold for body parts). My daughters found out about this family and found a way to help them. For around $1500 we purchased supplies to fix their house, buy a pedi-cab for the father, beds, clothes, water, food, and other necessities.

This is our Christmas gift to each other instead of things we don't need. It's really hard when you know there are so many more like Michael Angelo, but if we can help one family at a time, it is a start. If you want to know more about how you can help, send me a PM.

I'll start by saying I cheated on this photo; it was really taken on December 24. But too much happens that day to put into one picture. On Christmas Eve, my husband's family always goes bowling in the afternoon. It was originally done as a way to get the kids out of mom's hair while she got ready for the evening festivities. But it has endured for 46 years, and has become a tradition in itself. It is the only time all year that most of us bowl, but it's not Christmas without it.