Proof that there is a God and that He does, indeed, love us

And no, it is not, as Ben Franklin put it- evidenced by beer. (Fun little fact: beer smells gross. I've never tasted it. Smelled it, and was done. BLECH.) Moving on. Yes, God DOES exist and He is actively involved in our lives AND He loves us. Us. Messed up, selfish, sinful, short-term memoried humans.

How do I know that He exists, is involved, and loves us?

This:
Hmmmm... it's not showing up as well I would hope. The little red and white sign says WARUNG.

What is THAT? -some of you may be wondering. Others of you know what THAT is. Or, at least what it means. (Because yes, THAT is a sign. But what does it mean? What does it say??) What in the world is a Warung?

Well, loosely translated (or until I am informed otherwise by those more knowledgeable than I) it means food stand/place. In Indonesian. Garuda I knew from it being the name of the Indonesian/muslim TV station in Suriname.

Are things becoming clearer?

As soon I saw that sign, and it registered what it said, Max and I RAN up the three flights of steps to check it out. I was not disappointed. In fact, I read the menu, looked around at the stuff they had for sale (two walls of Indonesian food items), and cried. Yes. I cried. Max thought I was crazy and walked out of the restaurant.

We went and got Ryan and Elisha, and returned for lunch.

Sadly, most of the food was not up to my Suriname standards of Indonesian food, however we did purchase several of the food things from their selection. I'm super excited about those!

Now, you may be wondering what all this has to do with God and His loving us and all. Well, I'll tell you.

We headed down to Pyeongtaek this morning, hoping to ride a faster train up to Yongsan/Seoul. Well, they were all full, so we asked for tickets on a fastish train to wherever the next one was going. We got tickets on a small commuter train to city further south, and headed out. A little while in, yours truly started getting motion sick. As it just got worse and worse, we got off a few stops before our tickets were actually for.

Headed out of the train station into what was a decent city- we were quite impressed! We asked Max to pick a street -out of three- to go down and explore. She pointed left, so off we went. Lots of fun Western stores, and then... lo and beyond... what light through yonder window breaks... a WARUNG.

Word.

Of all the stops to get off at. On all the trains to ride. Of the streets to pick.

There is a God. And He loves us.

Don't try this at home!

Today I attempted to make peanut butter cookies with my 2 1/2 year old. And my one year old thrown in for good measure, about half way through.

Do I need to go on, or do you already know where this is going?

Well, for those of you who haven't interacted with a toddler lately, I'll continue. The rest of you can just continue laughing at me and close the tab.

She did great helping turn the mixer on and off, adding ingredients, etc. Except that she thought the shortening must taste similar to peanut butter since it was in a similar container. The main job I gave her, however, was to roll the dough balls in sugar. Easy enough. Simple. And she did it, very well, I might add. The trouble started when she 1) discovered how good the dough tasted; and 2)when she decided she didn't like the feeling of the sugar on her fingers between rollings. Sooooooo to fix number one, she started pinching off bits of dough to eat. And to fix number two she would stick her whole hand in her mouth to suck all the sugar off.

Yeah.... we won't be sharing these cookies with friends and neighbors.