I found this project at another blog I frequently enjoy reading, A Holy Experience, and decided to undertake it for myself. Every Monday, I will list things that I am thankful for, blessings in my life, until I reach a thousand or even more.

Sooo....

1. Jesus Christ, my redeemer

2. My husband who is also my best friend

3. Five beautiful, healthy children at home

4. The opportunity to share Michael's life and see him grown, married and happy.

5. My parents, whom I didn't appreciate enough when I was growing up and I can't express enough appreciation for now.

6. In-laws who have always loved me like their own daughter.

7. A brother who makes me unspeakably proud

8. Sisters-in-law who have become to me the sisters I always longed for when I was growing up.

9. The chance to have known all of my grandparents well.

10. An extended family that has always managed to have more love than dysfunction

11. Overflowing bookshelves.

12. Children who think spaghetti is a gourmet meal and are thrilled when I make it.

13. Hot showers

14. The feeling of a baby sleeping on your chest

15. The promise of spring

"Re-Bible"

Our church hosted a revival last week. Eleanor called it "Rebible," which I thought was really cute, so I didn't correct her. The more she said it, the more I realized that her mispronunciation was actually a pretty accurate description of what revival should be: turning our hearts away from the things of the world and back to the word of God.

The speaker challenged us to not just be fans of Jesus, but followers. That really struck a chord with me. He used a sports analogy, but since I've never been a sports fan at all, I will use another example from my life.

Duran Duran.

Ah...Duran Duran in all their 80's glamorous-ness.

Anyone who knew me when I was about 13 years old will tell you that I was a fan of Duran Duran. I had posters on my wall. I had t-shirts and a silkscreen jacket. I had all their records, knew all their songs. I had dozens of buttons to pin on my jean jacket. I knew lots of interesting facts about them from scholarly publications like Tiger Beat. I could tell you their birthdays, favorite colors, musical influences, girlfriends/wives/ex-wives. I was a serious fan.

But even with as much as I knew about them, I never knew them. I've never met them, never even seen them in concert. And they certainly knew nothing about me. I had no relationship with them. Nor did I try to emulate them in my life. I didn't apply myself to musical pursuits. I didn't dress like them. I didn't take up their habits, which in fact were things I did not approve of, such as illegal drug use. I was a fan, but I was not a follower.

A fan is a supporter, a booster, an enthusiast. A follower is a disciple, an adherent, an imitator.

So, am I just a fan of Jesus, or am I a follower?

I definitely know a lot about Jesus. My parents had me in church every Sunday from the day I was born, so I know all the Bible stories, memorized the ten commandments, and I still have the King James Version bible with my name stamped in gold that I was given by my church. I have a beautiful gold cross necklace that Dan gave me. The radio station in my truck rarely is turned away from the local christian station. I like to decorate my home with artwork that includes scripture.

But that's all fan stuff.

To know if I'm a follower of Jesus, I have to ask myself, "Do I know him?" Not: "Do I know about him?", but "Do I know him?"

Or better yet, "Does he know me?"

Not everyone who says to me, "Lord, Lord" will enter the kingdom of heaven,but only he who does the will of my Father in heaven. Many will say to me on that day, "Lord, Lord, did we not prophecy in your name, and in your name drive out demons and perform many miracles?" Then I will tell them plainly, "I never knew you. Away from me, you evildoers." ~Matthew 7:21-23

Jesus did not call us to be his fans; he called us to be his followers. His disciples. I want to be a follower of Jesus. That means I must imitate his life, no matter how clumsy at it I will certainly be. I have to love the people he loved. I have to see the needs he saw, and meet them when I can. I must be broken by the things that broke his heart. How exactly that will look in my life, I don't know yet. I just know that I'm discontent with where I am now. I want to follow closer.

I guess I got "re-bibled."

St. Patty's Day

The O'Krabel family enjoys St. Patrick's Day. Our celebration usually centers around breakfast. Last year it was green pancakes. This year, green French toast.

Myhungry little leprechans wait for their breakfast.

Even the milk turned green!

Constance enjoyed the green toast.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Krabel Academy of the Performing Arts

Here at the Krabel Academy, we have a strong emphasis on the performing arts.

Here is Eleanor, performing an original composition:

And another:

She also studies ballet:

prodigy?

...you be the judge!

Carolina In My Mind

Imagine James Taylor's voice singing:

"In my mind I'm goin' to Carolina, can't you see the sunrise, can't you just feel the moonshine..."


I'm tired of being cold. I'm tired of getting up in the dark. I'm tired of days without sun. I'm tired of passing the stomach flu around our family. I'm tired of winter.

So tonight, I am reminiscing about our beautiful week at Edisto Beach, South Carolina. I'm remembering the smell of the salt air, the sound of the surf breaking on the beach and the feel of the warm sun on my face. Where I decided that when I grow up, I want to be a beach bum.

"Yes, I'm goin' to Carolina in my mind."

Christmas Eve

Yes, it's January, but I started this post just after Christmas, and wanted to finish it anyway... :)

Christmas Eve found us at Wesley Chapel, just like every other Christmas Eve I can remember. Each of the kids had something prepred for the program.

Elijah and Eleanor sang "Happy Birthday, Jesus"

Elijah played "Silent Night" on his harmonica



Mackenzie sang "Welcome To Our World"

Katie played "O Come, All Ye Faithful"

As I sat in the church, which looks exactly the same as it has since I was a little girl, looking at faces of people I have known and loved all my life, I was almost moved to tears thinking about how much that simple Christmas Eve service means to me. Hearing my dad read the Gospel of Luke, the lighting of the advent candle, the precious, heartfelt performances of little children in their fanciest clothes...all of these things brought a rush of memories over me. And then I started thinking about the faces of the people who aren't there anymore-mostly Grandpa Bob, but others, too-and I felt a little sad, but also so enormously joyful for the gift of Christmas. It is because the Word was made flesh and dwelt among us, and gave His life as a ransom for us all that we can know that death is not the end. Christmas is our hope.

I am grateful for Wesley Chapel, for the simple one-room church where the first seeds of faith were planted in my heart, and where so many of my most treasured memories of childhood took place. I am grateful for the part it plays in the traditions of my family now, and for the welcoming love that always greets us there whenever we are able to attend. And most of all, I am grateful for the love of Christ that shines in that congregation. It indeed holds a very special place in my heart.