So an hour ago, I dropped off my husband to join his father and several dozen other people at the airport to embark on another mission trip to Haiti.

I'm alright with this, by the way. I don't get upset or worried or beside myself when Nolan goes into third world countries (Or any other time, for that matter. I'm not that girl). If there was ever anyone who could take care of himself (and probably everyone else) in a time of distress, it's my husband. In fact, I feel sure that if the people of Haiti gave governmental control to Nolan, he and his dad would have the whole country running smoothly within a matter of hours, if not sooner.

Of course, they'd be shouting at the top of their lungs at each other while they did it, but progress is progress. It works for them.

When I staggered over to my father-in-law (who is a Vietnam Veteran) this morning, eyes bleary and clutching my cup of coffee like it might actually save my life, I asked, "So are you ready to save the world?"

He hugged me and answered, "Again, yes. Though this time instead of an M-16 I'm armed with a Bible. I think that's probably a better deal."

I concur, favorite father-in-law. I heartily concur.


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