Philadelphia for the day

We had been planning to take a field trip day to Philadelphia in May, and since I've been working there the past two weeks, we decided to go today. Weather was 73 and sunny, spring is still busting out everywhere, and my mental map of the area is still fresh. It turned out to be a wonderful trip. Heavenly weather, angelic kids (only saw a couple of horns growing today), celestial traffic (ok, so maybe I made that one up).

The trip takes about two hours, and we got started by 8, so we had a nice long day without feeling rushed or too terribly taxed by getting home at 1030 tonight.

First stop of the day was the Brandywine Battlefield (20 miles or so south of Philadelphia). The Americans lost this one, but our kids didn't care. They were too busy picking buttercups.

First stop in Philadelphia: Liberty Bell.

Second stop: feed the pigeons at Independence Hall.

Who cares about a Declaration of Independence written by some dead guys? We've got live birds here to play with!

The home of Betsy Ross. The person who built this house had obviously never heard the song "Deep & Wide." (Though most of the older houses in the city were narrow like this one.)

Philip & Lydia rest their weary feet in Pew #58 at Christ Church. The golden plaque at the back tells us that this was George Washington's pew while he was president. . .and John Adams'. . .and Lafayette once sat here as well. But to our kids, just another place to have fun!

I'm getting hooked on cheesesteaks from this place. Not the place you'd normally take the kids for lunch ($4 grilled cheese & $6 cheeseburgers), but money was made to be spent!

Enjoying the Delaware River, with the battleship (and the state) New Jersey in the background. Jacob's comment: Is there something we can throw in the river?

Last stop of the day: Valley Forge.

Philip sporting some blue lips from the Italian ice mama shared with him.

The makings of a cold, lonely winter. The huts were intended to be 14 x 16 and sleep 12 men. No windows; just 4 walls, a door, and a fireplace at the back. Think of what those old soldiers suffered so that our kids could climb on cannons (and some other family could pollute the air with thump thump music). . .

God's Glory in Disability

John Knight, over at Desiring God, had this insightful way of communicating truth from Psalm 139. Knowing that disabilities are not things that God merely allows but actually intends (see Exodus 4:11), we can think about David's words in a fresh way.---

"With that in mind, what do you think about this expansion of Psalm 139:13-16? I've added some additional descriptors in italics to bring out what we really mean if we believe that God is sovereign over disability:

For you formed my inward parts with Down syndrome;
you knitted me together in my mother's womb without eyes.
I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made with cognitive challenges.
Wonderful are your works in creating me without limbs;
my soul knows it very well though my ears will never hear a sound.
My frame was not hidden from you as you made me with Apert syndrome,
when I was being made in secret with autism,
intricately woven in the depths of the earth without Hexosaminidase A.
Your eyes saw my unformed substance with spina bifida;
in your book were written, every one of them,
the days that were formed for me with cerebral palsy,
when as yet there was none of them."

Here is the link for the entire post:

http://www.desiringgod.org/Blog/2394_is_god_sovereign_over_human_disability/

Rags to Riches Philly style

I sit writing this post from the 8th floor of the Crowne Plaza Hotel in Center City, Philadelphia. The hours are marching on, helped in part by the rhythmic thumping of the joyful juveniles one floor below. What in the world am I doing in the land of Rocky Balboa on a Thursday night? After all, it is a work night.

Last week I was asked by my local manager to help fill in for a car-accident impaired foreman in the company's Bala Cynwyd (say kinwood) office, on the outskirts of Philadelphia. I was reticent at first because I knew it would mean leaving Sharon at home with the kids for two weeks. I will be coming home for this weekend, but two 5-day marathons as a single home-schooling mother of 4 wasn't something I wanted to dump on Sharon. But she was willing and flexible (thanks, God, for a good wife), so I committed myself.

I left for the first day away at 4:45 in the morning since I had a two-hour drive to get in before 7. The company's office is in a large old 1920s era house in a commercialized part of town. The company was already going on 15 years old when they bought the house and it has served as local headquarters ever since. The house has 3 stories, and the 2nd and 3rd are rented out as apartments. The 3rd floor is reserved for several employees who come to the US from the southern regions for most of a working year. The deal for me was that if I was willing to hole up in the upstairs with these guys, the company would give me more per diem since they would be saving the cost of a hotel . Ever the cheapskate, I said "Sure," --sight unseen.

When I got upstairs at the end of the first day, I noticed how dirty the place was. Tree guys are notoriously untidy (in cleaning out truck cabs I have found chicken bones, sandwich wrappers, cigarette butts, and even the occasional tobacco spit spot). You might only guess what their living quarters might look like. [In fairness, I didn't see the rooms of the other guys on my floor, so I don't want to accuse any actual person!] When I went into the bathroom I thought, great--no lid on the toilet; on second glance I said, never mind, No Seat on the toilet! Add to the list a non-functioning doorknob on my room (door did stay shut when suitcase was propped against it), some really unhealthy looking stains on the carpet, and some peeling paint on the walls, and you have a recipe for a sleepless night as you lay on the bed thinking about what might be crawling around in the dark.

I wrestled with what to do, since I don't like to complain and make people feel bad, but it was pretty nasty (thanks, Laura B, for that phrase). I am trying to learn to be more transparent with problems and get away from the mentality of the martyr complex that tends to reside within me. When they asked the next morning how it had gone, I spoke my peace. As I had expected, the local manager felt really bad, and said he would fix things for me. By that evening I had reservations for a room with a king sized bed at the Crown Plaza Hotel in the suburbs of Philly. What a marked contrast from the night before! I felt I could even walk in the room with just socks on my feet instead of shoes.

So tonight I find myself in the sister hotel in downtown Philadelphia. The other was booked solid for tonight, so I am experiencing the high life. I have to say this is the fanciest hotel I've ever been in, and I'm feeling a bit conspicuous. (At least I had the presence of mind to take off my oil-soaked climbing boots and sawdust-encrusted t-shirt before dropping in on the socialites of the big city. At the valet parking I forgot to leave my keys and they had to call my room to have me bring them back down. And walking through the crowds of guests, I felt a bit like My Fair Lady.

But the greatest part of this hotel is that it puts me in walking distance of all the neat stuff in town. Though we've always lived less than half a day's drive from the city of brotherly love, I'd never spent time here before. Tonight I put on the walking miles. I saw Tenth Presbyterian Church, where James Boice and Donald Barnhouse once pastored and where Paul Tripp is now one of the elders. I saw the "arts" district--what an eye-opener! I saw lots of other old buildings that no one beside me and a few other history wackos would care to have listed. I walked along the waterfront of the Delaware River where William Penn first landed. I ate at Campos ($8.50 for a Philly cheesesteak with "the works", and $2.34 for 20oz of purified tap water). As night settled in, I saw Independence Hall and scores of brilliantly illuminated buildings reaching for the sky.

So now I'm back, footsore and thirsty, but glad for this all-expenses paid chance to see a unique city and a critical place in American history. Now our plan is to take advantage of my scouting and grab a Saturday where we can repeat it all with the kids.

For now, this skinny Rocky can't wait to see his Adrian again.