In A Field

Last Sunday in church Wayne spoke about Simeon.  An elderly man, Simeon had waited patiently for the Messiah.  In obedience to the Spirit he finds his waiting has finally come to an end. "Led by the Spirit, he entered the Temple. As the parents of the child Jesus brought him in to carry out the rituals of the Law, Simeon took him into his arms and blessed God: God, you can now release your servant; release me in peace as you promised. With my own eyes I've seen your salvation"  Luke 2:27-30 A fragile Messiah held in the arms of one who faithfully waited.  Perfect Love wrapped in precious human form.  An unexpected way for God Himself to arrive.   May you come to understand the beautiful, scandalous, love of this wonderful Saviour this Christmas.  Look for Him in unexpected ways.  You will not be disappointed. Merry Christmas!   

Three blog posts sit on my dashboard, waiting to be finished.   Posts started and stopped.  In transition.   I've tried to write.  Everything sounds flat and empty.   This one isn't coming out right either. I have nothing to say and lots to say.   My heartfelt words would be angry, sorrowful, and tired.   Sometimes it's best to remain silent instead of ranting, speaking things that should remain unspoken.  And other times it's important to give a voice to all of the stuff of normal life.   I've been here so many times, I've lost count.  So, I will try to be open about this "place" I now find myself in.   Bear with me.  If you're the praying kind, speak to Him for me, will you?  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A few days ago I sat in an empty church, on the floor. Waiting. Waiting to hear from You. I wondered what I'd find in the silence. I listened to...

Abby is standing in the open door.  Stopping to turn around and say good-bye to me for the day.  Her hair is combed and pinned up, scarf tied neatly around her neck, book bag slung over her shoulder.  I know she is nearing 11, but today she looks older.  Wiser.  More put together than I ever remember being. I'm very aware that she is now the same age I was when my mother got sick.  My Dad, Jamie, Matt and I spent almost every weekend in Halifax.  Staying with my Aunt Glady, sleeping on pull-out sofas, reading Bobbsey Twins books, taking trips to the Candy Bowl , eating pizza, and the long car rides back and forth to the city.  I also remember the long walk through the lobby of the VG, the ride up in the elevator and the quick run/walk to her room.  There was always a fuss made over Matt, he was such a sweet little boy at six. I have a vivid memory of lying in bed with ...

Willow Tree A soft wind blows through your delicate branches, weaving, whispering, bending. A stronger wind pushes and pulls at your beautiful arms, scattering your leaves, changing your appearance. The storms rage and you dance.   You bend but you do not break. The wind makes your back stand straighter. It makes you stronger. Your limbs sway in a glorious dance before your Maker. Your roots grip the soil, curl around stone and earth.   You are steady. You stand.   Unbroken. For a friend.

Thursday afternoons you`ll find him at gymnastics.  He tumbles, hops, balances, hangs, and dismounts like a pro.  The same little boy who had trouble standing on one foot can walk on a balance beam without falling off.  He can crab walk across parallel bars and pull his feet up to meet his hands while he swings from a pair of suspended rings.  Most Thursdays.  We`ve been maneuvering through new territory.  Realizing a good day begins with a great sleep. Thursdays are long.  He doesn`t pretend.  If he`s tired, he`s tired and there`s nothing we can do but wait until he`s had a rest.  Two classes were spent sitting on the sidelines wishing to go home. Elias`physio-therapist attends his class- her son is 4 too.  She watches him while he plays, quick to point out the progress he is making.  I`m the first to admit what a blessing she is.  This is her son`s class, not a physio appointme...

One Sunday I shared with my church about my horrible parenting week.  Afterwards a woman I admire greatly placed her hand on my shoulder and said, with small children you'll find some days are full of rocks and others, diamonds.  The rocks make you appreciate the diamonds even more .  I trust the source of this encouragement.  She has five grown children.  I'm sure to her these days I am living seem like they happened just a short time ago.  What I appreciated most about her comment was the gentleness with which she expressed it.  Her words were full of empathy and compassion.  She knows where I am.  She's been there.  How many times have I heard a seasoned mother say to me, "E njoy these days when they are small, they are the best days of your life and they go so fast!"  ?  To which, I shudder. Sleep has been an issue in this house.  Last night was no exception.  All 5 of ...

Friday evening is upon us.    Many women.  Many stories.  Many lives.  Tired.  Searching.  Hopeful.  We wait to be renewed.  Some of us are holding back.   I am in that number.  Arrogant and full of pride.  Certain I've only come here to bear witness to others renewal. Retreating isn't a necessity for me right now.  I'm here while you delve deeper into yourself, unlocking doors that have been closed.  I'm a wide open book.  Happy.  Sorted out. Delusional. The music begins.  A woman stands to dance.  Light pours from her face.  Surrender written on her hands and feet.  Love in her eyes. With uplifted hands, she sways like grass in a field.  Her eyes fixed on Something we can't see.  Tears seep from the corners of her eyes.  Her hands reaching, seeking, praising.  I watch, comfortable to sit and see her worshipful exchange.  O...

Degrassi's Voula getting ready for her first Jr. High dance Sorting through old pictures, yearbooks, and keepsakes, I try to eliminate useless clutter.  I pick up a stack of pictures from my school days, one for every year.  Surprisingly, one is missing.  Grade 7.  All that I have is the class picture, a tiny frame of myself.  The picture is so small I'm not even sure it's me.  I walk into the bright overhead light and squint with my nearly 40 year old eyes, peering at a 13 year old me.  Hair cut into a strawberry blond bob, a smiling brace-face.  I'm reminded of my first experience with imaginative prayer.  I had been listening to a sermon series  Undivided .  One sermon ended with an exercise where you imagined yourself sitting at a small, round, child's table.  Beside you on one side is an empty chair, on the other a bag full of memories symbolized by snapshots or mementos. ...

Last week school began. Three kids off to school. They left and took my sanity with them. It was a bad week. For parenting But I'm not supposed to tell you that. I'm supposed to tell you that my life is perfect. I am perfect. I never yell, lose my patience, throw fits or give useless threats. My children are perfectly behaved. They always listen. They never talk back. Their rooms are immaculate and book bags tidy. Just like the rest of their tastefully decorated and photo-shoot, magazine-ready home. I'm supposed to tell you that I can leap tall buildings in a single bound. I laugh in the face of adversity. I eat stress for lunch. I can juggle making supper, refereeing spats, folding laundry, and milling flour all at the same time. I always know the right thing to say. I give wonderful gifts and I never forget a birthday But the truth is granola bar wrappers, smashed Goldfish, sippy cups, and toys litter my living room/kitchen. The dishwasher sits patiently, waiting...

A little over 2 months ago I blogged about Elias. I told you about our trip to the IWK and how we discovered that what we were dealing with was not "scary". Fast forward to the end of that month and I'll fill you in on what's been happening since.... After his developmental assessment he was scheduled to meet with an occupational therapist because of some fine motor concerns. We met with her twice. On the last appointment she suggested he go see a physical therapist. She thought they would be able to give him some exercises to help him have more "control" over his wobbly legs and arms. We had that appointment at the end of June. I don't think we had been sitting in her exam room more than 20 minutes when she said these words- "I think I know what the problem is". Really? Had I heard her correctly?? She then went on to explain that Elias is hyper-flexible, which would explain why every doctor we've been to has said he has "low t...

I know I share time and again how incredibly in awe I am of Jesus. How the beauty of who He is stirs something inside of me. I can't help but speak of Him. I completely love how I can be in His presence even when surrounded by so many. Standing in the midst of thousands of people during the U2 concert, I stared up into the clearing sky. I prayed to Him- "Hey, Jesus, what do you think of all that's going on here, how do you feel about this?" A peace settled over me as I felt Him close to me. The knowledge of His grace, mercy, love, and power fell into my heart like a crashing wave. Oh how He loves! I bend under the weight of it. When I looked down my eyes fell on three guys who had been annoying me earlier with their pot smoking- they passed joints around like I would share a pack of gum. In that moment I was filled with immense Love for them. How beautiful He is, to grant me a teeny, tiny glimpse of His furious love for all people. Not just for the ones who have...

Hmmmm, I'm not sure I like the idea of having to bike to the front gate to check email, etc while on vacation. I guess that's the way it's gotta be while we camp. Camping has changed, hasn't it? I prefer to call it "glamping", with our air conditioning, running water and hot showers. It's lovely though. We've found an incredible community here in the shadow of the mine. Learning about church from an unlikely source. God is very humorous. Just another reason to be crazy about Him.

I, Angie take you, Wayne, to be my husband. With the greatest joy I come into my new life with you. Today I am reminded of James l:17 which says "Every good thing bestowed and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow." Besides the gift of salvation, you are the most precious gift God has given me. I know that along with the new joys God has given me, I face new responsibilities that I cannot fulfill in my own strength. But by God's grace and power working within me, I desire to be trustworthy as your wife, to serve and love you in all circumstances, to obey you, to allow God to use you to build His qualities in me, as long as God gives us life on this earth. I praise God continually for you, Wayne, and for your love and friendship. Almost 19 years ago I met Wayne. He was funny and cute, that's what I first thought. During a sociology class Debbie and Wayne passed notes, setting up a da...

The only day I appeared to be photogenic was on my wedding day. Any other time I have my eyes closed, a dorky look on my face, or I'm not looking towards the camera. On this day I didn't know Wayne was taking the photo- that apparently helps. At any rate, I like this picture. I'm not trying to pose. I didn't tell Wayne to hold on a minute while I fix my hair or whatever. Maybe what I like best is this really looks like me- this shot capturing something genuine. I really love being myself. Perhaps it has everything to do with where I stand with God. I feel incredibly secure, loved, and free. Not so long ago Something felt as though it was missing. It was as though I had the words to a song but I couldn't hear the music. Surely, Lord, there is more to this life than merely surviving. More than just getting through the day, all so I could go to bed and do it all over again tomorrow. I was tired. Of settling. Of muddling through. Of living on auto pilot. ...

I was in grade 9. That was my hardest year of school. I really struggled with balancing school work and house work....that looks odd to read, but it's true. At any rate I was doing poorly in the subjects I was not as strong in- math and science. I had failed a test, the mark was very low. On top of that, I had to get it signed. Now, let me be clear on this, in our house school was a priority, but not always at the top of the list. And, increasingly for me the house was becoming my priority. I spent the hour long bus ride in the mornings doing homework. So it's not really surprising that I had failed this test. I've never been very brave and I clearly remember sitting in my room on my bed trying to work up the nerve to take the test downstairs to my father. I was imagining all sorts of responses, none of them good. Finally, I decided it was time. I called down and asked him to come upstairs for a moment. I led him into his room and sat on the edge of his bed. I ...

Monday. It was happening so fast, arriving too soon. We woke up hearing Wayne's Dad coughing. We found them both in the living room, Joanne already with her knitting out. Here before we're out of bed, ready to grandparent. Wayne and I loaded their vehicle, put Elias' car seat in, secured him and hit the road. I wasn't nervous. I had even slept well the night before. I drifted off to sleep imagining Jesus' arm wrapped tightly around my shoulders. We arrived early. Found a parking place and went in. The dr's office at the top floor. I was getting nervous now, just from sheer anticipation of what we'd discover. Dr Dooley came to get us at precisely 3 pm. Laptop at the ready we showed him our videos, compiled over the last year or so, displaying this behaviour we've had such a hard time explaining. He watched and asked questions. He watched again. He asked for our concerns, Elias' history from pregnancy to present. I tried to remember hi...

I remember not too long ago how overwhelmed I was with two children. Then we had 3 more. Five. Sometimes I just can't believe we have that many. It seems like a dream. As we added more children to our family, I slowly began to realise that I was getting lost in the shuffle. I think mothers find it easy to lose themselves when they are in the midst of raising kids. You put their needs ahead of yours. Your time isn't even your own. You can't even go to the bathroom without little knocks (or in my case a head banger) at the door. I am a mother. Sometimes invisible. A homemaker. A dependant. Someone who hides her true self behind the sweet face of a beautiful child. A woman who occasionally leaves the house without having given a second thought to her hairstyle (regrettably). Or wardrobe. Who finds herself swaying back and forth while waiting in line, simply because standing usually means a baby is in her arms. Who says things she never thought she would utter - ...

100km's and counting...it may be time for new one's. I know I'm being restored. That old things are passing away and the new is being birthed in me. After a run the other night it occurred to me how exciting it is that I'm still running after a year and a half. My running is like a physical example of what's happening in my spirit. Let me explain. I've discovered that a good running day most often is the result of what's going on in my head. Will I stick with it or will I only get 1 km and give up. I can defeat myself from the beginning if I believe the lie I can't make it through, that I don't really need to do it, or that it's raining too much (will this never end!!!). Sometimes I am convinced there is something conspiring against me in my endeavor to run. Many times I have set out to run and my ipod will not communicate with my Nike+ sensor. Other times I'll be in a great rhythm and my shoe will come untied or little rocks will wor...

"Let my heart be broken with the things that break God's heart" — Bob Pierce, World Vision founder A few months ago I read a book by Richard Stearns called The Hole in Our Gospel. It is a potentially powerful book. I say potentially because I've heard of people who've read it and weren't impacted. When I read it I was incredibly uncomfortable and challenged. Not in such a way that I was offended at all, if anything I felt convicted about what I was reading. Stearns tells the story of how he came to be the president of World Vision. How this turned his comfortable, American-dream-loving life upside down. Some of what he writes about is very hard to read. I would go to bed at night and dream of the children of Uganda who spend every evening walking miles into the "safety" of city streets to avoid being kidnapped by the Lord's Resistance Army (http://www.warchild.org.uk/issues/the-lords-resistance-army-LRA). In times of prayer I would see an ...

The Puzzle Perhaps I should fill some of you in on what's been going on in the Murphy household. We've been trying to get a diagnosis for our son, Elias, for the last year or so. We began noticing odd behaviours when he was 2. I, at first, thought it was all in my head. So I asked my SIL, Kelly, to watch him too, to see if her motherly eye would detect it as well. We were camping together, spending lots of time with one another. She saw it too. Fast forward two years and here we stand, still waiting on a diagnosis. We've taken him for an MRI, xrays, hearing and vision tests, blood work, a developmental assessment, and a lumbar puncture. So far nothing has surfaced. We are waiting on an EEG at the end of May, we'll also learn the results of his LP at this time. We are hopeful, but growing frustrated. Two weeks ago he had a seizure, something we've never experienced with him. It was upsetting to me to witness. Probably mostly because I was here alone with ...

I went for a run last night. I needed to think. A verse was running through my mind, "Count it all joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance" James 1:2-3. I need to be honest, I could never quite understand the "count it all joy" part. I understand that we are purified by trials, but counting it joy seemed a stretch. Until a light switched on for me while I was running. We aren't crazy people who rejoice because of the trial, counting joy because of suffering. What we take joy in is the opportunity that arises from the trial. The chance to move a little closer to Jesus. The chance to see another aspect of God's character, to see how He will act, how we will act. That's how I see it anyway.

I had a few conversations over the last little while about grace. Well, mostly that some struggle with the idea of it, accepting it and staying in it. Grace has never been something I've really had a hard time understanding. My trouble was always with love. Perhaps my view of love was tainted at an early age. Confused with performance and ability, I assumed I mattered because I could clean the house, make supper or get groceries. As long as I was keeping all the balls in the air I was lovable. If I could just be perfect, then I would remain loved. So, my struggle has been with "getting" the idea of love. If I'm being honest, I'll tell you how I have found it difficult to understand love in the context of marriage too. I have lived in the fear of discovering what Wayne really thinks of me. Isn't that weird? We were at a day long marriage seminar and I shared this with him. He laughed. Not hard, and I wasn't offended. He was just in disbelief. He laughed too...

'For in him we live and move and have our being.’ Acts 17:28a I have always loved the nights sky. As a child I would lay on my back in our yard and gaze deep into the night. If you stare long enough it begins to feel as though you are floating up there. Peacefully surrounded by the tiny pinpoints of light and the inky black. You also begin to feel very tiny in comparison to the vastness of the heavens. Last summer Abby and I watched the Perseids meteor shower. A beautiful display of shooting stars streaking across the dark sky and burning out as they enter the earth's atmosphere. We found a dark road, away from as much light as we could, and laid on the hood of the van. The late summer night was chilly, but the sky was clear and it wasn't long before we witnessed many meteors. It was breathtaking. I feel close to God the Father when I am observing His creation. When I lay under the stars or stand on the shore when the wind is strong and the waves loud. I am humbled by His g...

Our Christmas card photo shoot 5 personalities. 5 wonders. 5 people my husband and I get to do life with. I remember being pregnant with Aidan, I wrestled with how I would love another child as much as I loved Abby. I was so silly. Of course, it was love at first sight with Aidan. And so on with the rest. With each pregnancy I would anticipate what they would look like, what would they be like, who would they become. They are so precious to me. Sometimes I have been overwhelmed with the responsibility of raising them. I've cried many tears, fearing failure, that I would somehow "mess" them up. This parenting gig is a hard road. The only manual I have was passed onto me by parents who found themselves in the same place I am now. It's a vicious cycle, for sure. I don't have a clue what I'm doing most of the time and I make many mistakes. I always say there is either yelling or laughing in our house, but I suppose that's normal? However, I am thankful to be ...

Yesterday I learned something I hadn't pieced together before about how God works. Due to circumstances beyond my control, I was alone with the children and had to figure out how to get Elias to outpatients. He had a seizure. I called Kelly for clarity, to calm me down and talk to me. Once I had figured out how I was going to go with all of the kids, I headed for the hospital. I was afraid, tired, sick, and alone. I sat closer to the driver's side window so Abby couldn't see me crying in the rear view mirror. I called out to Jesus, asking Him for peace and assurance. A song* I particularly love came on just then and I immediately was filled with calm. Be assured, I still was uncertain, a little afraid, and I was still crying, but I also had this profound sense of peace in the midst of it. Such a strange mix of emotions. It occurred to me then this is what it means to be held. God was holding me, so even though I was still feeling those other emotions, I could sen...

My first birthday Normally I see this day coming and anticipate it. Today it caught me by surprise. I love this picture of her, although I can't remember her this way. When I remember her last she looked so very different. I have a picture that was taken a few months before she passed away, but I like this one better. Funny, this picture was taken roughly 10 years before she died. I think I need to come back and post this later, it's still early in the day and I need to make it through before I land in a heap thinking about her..... I'm so thankful for my Mom. For the memories I have of her. I think my favourite memory is from when I was 7, 8 or 9, I'm not really sure. Jamie and I had returned to New Glasgow for a weekend to visit friends we had left behind when we moved. I don't know that I was ever away from her. I do remember vividly Saturday night, I was so lonesome for her. There was a snow storm raging outside and I was sure I would never get back home. Thing...

Memory is a child walking along a seashore. You never can tell what small pebble it will pick up and store away among its treasured things. ~Pierce Harris, Atlanta Journal Memories are so amazing. I love how I can be transported back to being a little girl playing with the creams and perfumes on my mother's dresser whenever I smell Jergens hand lotion. Or how the smell of burning grass in the spring reminds me of the evenings we played outside with our thin windbreakers on, watching our neighbour's Dad burn away the old brown grass. Or how I can catch a glimpse of my mother's face when I see myself in the mirror. What are your favourite memories?

I should have Abby write this post. She is always writing about her family in school. She talks about how close we are, that we love to laugh together and that we have a common bond in Christ. How amazing is it that my 10 year old already sees this? My family is pretty amazing. I love spending time with them. It's wonderful that I have such amazing people to grow old with. I cherish them.

I'm feeling encouraged today. I love it when someone goes out of their way to tell me they appreciate me. That I matter to them. You know who you are! God, in His infinite wisdom, created us to thrive in community. We can't function properly when we are cut off...we need one another to get through. Life is hard. Arbitrary. Annoying. Reaching out to friends is crucial to "making it". I think we live in a society that shuns community in some regard. We're told what we need is privacy, unaccountability and we must be individuals. That flies in the face of God's plan for us....sure, He DOES want us to be individuals, but individuals who stand together, unified, bearing with one another, loving one another, doing life together. We're made for community. Embrace community. Encourage one another. Chose to extend yourself by serving someone else.

Typing "contentment" into google images yielded this picture. It doesn't get any better than this! I'm content when I'm living in the Truth of who I am.

Living under the reign of Jesus. Under the King-dome of God. In His infinite wisdom God comes to us, rescues us....but that's not the end of the story. He restores us too. We live out life for those around us who have not heard the good news. Is the good news merely that you can have freedom from hell? No! The good news is that Jesus offers us new life here and now. We don't have to wait - we can live in that Kingdom now.

I disliked this song the first few times I listened to it. This seems to be the case with many of Brian Doerksen's songs for me, upon first hearing I don't fall in love, but becoming familiar with it I grow to love it. I've put the lyrics here too, so you can read them while this plays. This is a good "soaking" song. I don't want to think this is a passing fancy. That someday I'll wake up and realize this was all just a phase. I was sharing all that's been happening to me with someone and they basically said, "it won't last". Sad. This is so much more than feelings and it must be, feelings are so fleeting and fickle. For the first time in my life, I truly am falling in love with my Saviour, I'm submitting to Him, learning Who He is and finally seeing who I am. It's a wonderful marriage relationship. Something I've only dreamed of but never thought possible. Enjoy this song, think about Him, how wonderful He is, how life is mor...

Being known. Being found. Pursued. Loved. This is what I find in Christ. He knows me inside and out. He see who I truly am. He loved me while I was still His enemy. I am the apple of His eye. I ravish His heart. I have unsurpassable worth. I find myself in Him. He makes me whole. This is intimate belonging.

Currently I'm reading a book on spiritual disciplines. This is my second pass at this one. Since I've become more "awake", I'm enjoying re-reading books. It's amazing how differently you read when you see with different eyes. Thoroughly enjoyable. So, tonight I read this quote from C.S. Lewis regarding prayer. In prayer we must "lay before Him what is in us, not what ought to be in us." Isn't that wonderful and so very true? We don't need to pretend we are someone else for God, He sees it all anyway. It's very freeing to just fall into a heap before God and lay it all out there for Him to see. My friend Deb would probably call this "soaking" in the Lord's presence. Tomorrow's post will be a continuation of this one....

Of course that's not true. If it was I wouldn't tell you. I struggle greatly with pride. I wear it like a fetter. Humility is beautiful, don't you think? When you see someone living this out it's moving, makes you want to know how to get there too.

Okay, so I don't totally agree with everything this picture is saying - for one, I'm not a man; and two, I'm not this fit, or large. However, I thought this image fit well with how I've been feeling as a Christ-follower these days. This is a metaphor for our battle against the flesh. Who we truly are, our identity in Christ, trying to emerge. With that in mind, most of my life I have lived in defeat. I've spent much time thinking on things but not doing them. I'd fanatasize about really living my life and wondered what that might look like, but I never got up enough courage or passion to actually do anything about it. NOT ANYMORE. About 2 years ago I really felt called to run. Seriously, I felt compelled to do it. And, as things have gone, I'd actually thought about running and what that might be like. I never got curious enough to do it though, nobody needs to see an unfit thirty-something woman running through the neighbourhood. Then this little...

Finally, after twenty-eight years, I'm learning to trust God. Well, that's not entirely true. When I was 10 trusting God seemed easy. I think I've said it before, I'm growing young. In fact, in one of my times of prayer I envisioned myself running to Jesus, as I got closer to Him I grew younger and younger. When I finally reached Him I was probably 5, He knelt down to catch me and then tossed me into the air! I suppose this post goes along nicely with my previous one. Trust goes hand in hand with knowing someone, I think so anyway. As I grow closer to Jesus I feel that my trust in Him is improving. I feel like I'm beginning to rest in Him with the full weight of myself. Before all of this "new" stuff was happening to me I would pray, "Lord, I love you and I trust you, BUT don't you dare lay a hand on my kids!!". I'm being completely honest with you. I thought for sure if I said, okay, Lord, here you go, He would allow something horrible t...

"Because children have abounding vitality, because they are in spirit fierce and free, therefore they want things repeated and unchanged. They always say, "Do it again"; and the grown-up person does it again until he is nearly dead. For grown-up people are not strong enough to exult in monotony. But perhaps God is strong enough to exult in monotony. It is possible that God says every morning, "Do it again" to the sun; and every evening, "Do it again", to the moon. It may not be automatic necessity that makes all daisies alike; it may be that God makes every daisy separately, but has never got tired of making them. It may be that He has the eternal appetite of infancy; for we have sinned and grown old, and our Father is younger than we." Orthodoxy GK Chesterton I think I should play more. During one of the first snow storms of the season I got dressed in my outer wear and took the three oldest children outside for a walk. It was dark, sno...