2020

While in Corpus Christi, Texas, last week (was that seriously just last week???), my sister-in-law introduced us to her friend Kristen. As we were all getting ready to go to the beach together, I shared briefly with Kristen that Randy and I had been working in Mexico at an orphanage for the past 18 months. She said it sounded a little like "Bokenkamp" where she had volunteered. Obviously intrigued, I asked her to tell me more. She said Bokenkamp was right there in Corpus Christi, and was providing shelter and meeting the needs of unaccompanied immigrant children from south and central america. She said she struggled there because she doesn't speak Spanish. Oh how I wish we hadn't learned about this the day before leaving Corpus Christi! How I would have loved to have gone and spent the day with a dozen beautiful little Spanish-speaking children like those who hold my heart in San Felipe. Time wasn't on our side on this leg of the journey, but now that I know ...

I didn't participate in Lent yesterday. I was too sad. Randy and I are preparing to leave Baja. One of the catalysts for that decision was to spend more time with my grandmother. But we never got that chance. She died yesterday. And I was completely devastated by the news. I didn't have the energy to donate or write about a cause yesterday. I didn't want to hear all the Christian platitudes ("Be glad she was a Christian and is with Jesus now."). I just wanted to be sad. To cry and walk the beach and take a nap and cry some more. I woke up this morning hoping it had all been a terrible dream. You would think that you would always click with all of your family members. You share DNA. You share an upbringing. You have both nature and nurture going for you. But at times you can feel like an outsider within your own home. But I never felt that way with my grandmother. We were kindred spirits. She was an artist and a world traveler, a card player and an a...

Time for another guest blog! This one comes from my friend Jeff Laycock, who I went to high school with. When my nieces were born and spent time in the NICU, Jeff reached out to me to assure me that even though it was scary to see them so tiny, with IVs in their heads and tubes up their noses keeping them alive, it was also the safest, best place for them to be. He knew, because he had just been through it with his son, Hayden. Who has to be the cutest spokesperson for Nationwide Children's Hospital, BuckeyeThon, and ending Pediatric Cancer that I have ever seen. Here's their story: BUCKEYETHON Our story starts when my pregnant wife, Bri, and I went to her 20-week appointment to find out the sex of our baby. The excitement of the day soon turned to confusion, fear, and sadness as the doctor explained that the heartbeat of our unborn child, a boy, had dropped into the 50s from the typical 180s since the last time Bri had visited. He told us he suspected congenital he...