This morning as we were preparing for church, Jenni was lying on the bed with Andre, and she had him all wrapped up in her arms. “I love this little boy so much,” she said. Without hesitation, Andre asked her, “If you love me so much, why don’t you come to church with me?” Guess who was in the pew with her family this morning?
Intensity. The title of the first book I ever read by Dean Koontz. And the story matched the title. But that’s not the intensity to which I refer in this blog. In case I never mentioned this before, I have three grandsons. Oh, I did mention that? Sorry. Anyway, the three of them are very different. Little man Andre is spoiled, and even though he rarely gets his way by doing so, he still screams us into insanity on a regular basis, hoping against hope that this time we will let him have his way. Philip, my middle man, has… Continue reading
