Somewhere in all of this bewildering wild ride that we call "our life," Tristan and I have a story to tell.  I'm not sure of the "how's" or the "why's", but I felt God telling me to write a book, and I have for quite some time now.

He hasn't brought us through all the tears, pain, joy and adventures (with one incredible lesson unfolding after another) for nothing.  We have quite a testimony.  And NOT to share it would be a dishonor.  If just ONE person can find some solace in my words,  then none of it has been in vain.

So, I did it.  I broke down and entered the world of high-techery, and ordered a shiny, new laptop computer.

If I'm going to write, I must be able to do it anytime, anyplace.  The kids will be told that the new computer is actually a BOMB, so that they remain fearful of it, and never touch it.   No fears of spyware and viruses that might possibly invade THIS computer, because my daughter decided that she should click "OK" on every single Internet "Pop-Up" ad that appears.

So, once the little Kathie-Lee-Gifford-sweatshop-children in Bangladesh finish assembling my custom-made-to-order pile of plastic, screws, circuit boards and what-nots, I will begin.

I just hope it's waterproof, 'cause I do some of my
best thinking in the bathtub.