My aversion to academic writing under deadlines is what doomed any thought of me becoming an academic myself, but a love for academic reading could make this book the first in a long run tomes that pass through my house by way of my friends-of-Penn-State library card.

A few critical notes as I dive back in to Matthew McCormick’s book:

• Concision carries rhetorical power. And McCormick is concise.
• I agree that miracles don’t happen nearly as often as I wish they would or think they should. But that doesn’t mean they don’t happen. How do I account for some of the miracles my friend Marshall describes (i.e., the rain stopping, the word of knowledge for the divorcée, and the healed tumor)? How do I explain the healing ministry of Heidi Baker?

Wife and I share a concern that wherever this doubt and I end up, that I don’t end up lacking in the strength and security that I’ve given her and the kids with my faith in Jesus.

Is it not possible that the strength and security I’ve given comes not from being a conduit for Jesus but rather from my having certainty about my purpose and mission, a surety of a unifying guide, a lodestar principle? If I have a lodestar principle and mission I can settle on other than Jesus—what am I writing?!?—perhaps I can still lend strength to my family even if I end up a doubting Thomas.

friend:

I just wanted to let you know that my thoughts have been with you after hearing about your sleepless night. I think I understand the sort of turmoil you are in; I’ve been deep in it for a while!

I would be delighted to talk more…and/or to let ideas and feelings percolate as needed.

self:

Thank you for your sympathy. You and your husband are good people.

That it wasn’t until thirty-three years old for this devout Christian to experience his first pangs of doubt probably accounts for why it was so intense. It was a doubly novel experience for me: my first doubts and my first involuntarily sleepless night. A doozy I don’t hope to relive.

But now that I’ve slept some and my thoughts have settled, one could say in summary that not much has changed: I am simply less sure of all my Christian beliefs. Still, it’s strange to pray to a god you’re less sure exists. His hiddenness used to be a source of knowing laughter in prayer. Now it’s a bit more serious than that.

Anyway, I currently plan to pause on the McCormick volume until Sunday or so. We’ll see what happens as I continue reading. You still plan to finish, yes? In the apparent absence of a volume directly responding to...

When I restart my reading of Atheism and the Case Against Christ, I plan to actively take critical notes along the way. To fight back, as it were.

Scott: What would life be like without screens?
Carla: Buggy.
[pause]
Scott [slightly annoyed]: Could you just answer the question, please?
[pause]
Carla [gathering what he meant]: Well, we know what life would be like without screens. We didn’t have screens the first year of our marriage.
Scott: What did we DO?
Carla: We fought.

Carla: Are you ready for your [chickens] meeting tonight?
Scott: Yeah, it’s just a brainstorm and catch-up meeting.
Sullivan: Ketchup? Ketchup is for eggs. Ketchup? Ketchup is for eggs.

Scott [discussing trends in interior design] : Our culture…we highly prize…clean.
Carla: Yeah…it’s disgusting.

The wind and snow were whipping around my house like a SNOW-NADO!

— Sullivan in his weather journal for school

Mommy, I love music more than chocolate chips, more than cookies, and more than princesses and beautiful ponies.

— Éa on hearing Vanhal’s Double Bass Concerto in E flat major on WPSU in the car with Carla

Carla: He looks like the beggar at the Beautiful Gate.
Éa: Who?
Scott: One of the people Jesus healed. One of many.
Éa: Killed?
Scott: HEALED.
Carla: And THAT. is why I don’t want our children to read Bible stories yet.

Carla [upon delivery of Éa’s dessert at Sips Bistro]: Bon appétit!
Éa [correcting her]: Bon appé-YUM!

I do not use trash cans as places to store stuff any more.

— Scott, defending himself when challenged to report why the children’s not-yet-empty toothpaste was sitting in the garbage

Carla: Oh my God, living with you is like living in a legal document!
Scott: Oh my god, living with you is like living in oatmeal!

Scott: Éa, would you mind if I put on some tunes?
Éa: Yeah.
Scott [to clarify]: Should I put on some tunes?
Éa: Yeah.
Scott: Any objections anyone?
Éa: Tunes! But don’t put on any objections!

I want one of those ballet shirts with a butt and a labia.

— Éa, in reference to buying a leotard

Scott: Sullivan, I’ve been meaning to talk with you about your reading habits.
Sullivan: You’ll never stop me.

Éa: [making small talk] What’s your Stilson?
Lindsay: Pelz. [the correct answer]

Carla: [playfully flicks dishwater at Scott]
Scott: What did I do to deserve that?
Carla: You married me.

Hey, it was definitely hard, but I really enjoyed spending time with you this evening.

— Scott, to Carla

Éa [from the other end of the house]: Mama! Watch this!
Carla: Honey, I’m cooking!
Éa: Mama watch this!
Carla: I can’t! I’m cooking right now!
Éa: Mama! Watch this! I can jump from the TOP!
Carla [walking quickly to the other end of the house]: Okay! You’ve got my interest!

Carla: It’s 7:57.
Scott: What!? Already?
Carla: I know. Like, what the fUuuuuuUuuck? [moment of silence] Sometimes I say that just to assert my adulthood.

Daddy, no you don’t go to work! Éa and I go to work! [pause] Oh. Well, I guess if Éa and I were the one who went to work, we’d be poor.

— Sullivan, in a gradually self-aware attempt to keep Scott from going to work that day

The front cover of a birthday card Sullivan drew for Cassie’s birthday. Featuring a black-capped chickadee drawn from a photo.

Yeah, but I got two in a row.

— Sullivan, after losing at tic-tac-toe to Grandpa