Monthly Archives: November 2014

When crime is close to home

My car was broken into last week. Well, that’s not quite right: I forgot to lock my car, and someone went through it. Again.

The last time was a month ago. They got all the loose change out of my ashtray, but the only valuables in my car are car seats, my paltry collection of makeup and an expensive baby carrier or two–not what you’d call a score. So this time, I found my center console and glove compartment open, my makeup rummaged through, and the hood of my car popped (I think they were going for the trunk release), but nothing was taken.

It totally didn’t faze me the first time it happened, and I felt only slightly unnerved this morning. But I’ve been thinking about it, and here’s the thing about crime: If it doesn’t happen TO you, it may as well be a million miles away. That string of robberies on our street this summer? The police raid one block up on Friday? I can’t do anything more than lock my windows and doors (ha. irony.). We’re not going to move. I can’t alter my lifestyle to be any safer…we lead a pretty boring, non-risky life.

Furthermore, I’ve been challenged to rethink safety and protection as something of an idol. “Praying for protection” was something I did regularly but I don’t know that it’s a very biblical practice. God has not promised me that where He leads us, we will find safety.

I mentioned this casually to a former Wheaton professor in an email, and he encouraged me to only lock the car if it’s likely to be stolen. He also suggested ways to turn a potential robbery into a “giftery” with a sign in the window: “The car is unlocked; no need to break the window,” plus a plate of cookies on the dash. (He’s the most counter cultural person I know.)

I’m more interested in the person trying all the car doors on my street, what they need, and why. How can I help him or her, in a way that empowers and dignifies?


A Very Keller Halloween

On Monday, our day care provider Eryn said, “Make sure to bring the kids’ costumes on Thursday so we can do a little parade!” I’d wanted to dress up the kids—because babies in costumes are the best, obviously—but had given it no thought and definitely no further action.

Wednesday I managed to remember a bag of candy at Sam’s Club. 225 pieces, I thought, that’s plenty! Ha.

By Thursday, I hustled up a couple costumes from friends, and Aunt Suzanne gave Jack a green nose at breakfast. He was a very cute dinosaur and Gracie was the most expressive ladybug there ever was: IMG_3156.JPG

The staff at church came down for the Baby Parade and everyone’s voice jumped an octave and Jack led the charge, roaring and yelling, “DINOTHAUR!” IMG_3181.JPG


Friday, we checked the forecast and I began to scheme about fitting Jack’s snowpants and winter coat under his costume. Ultimately, we settled on layers and Jack let me paint his face again (this time with dino spots). Grace’s costume was mostly covered up by the baby carrier, but we set off, quite convinced that Jack neither would nor could understand the whole trick-or-treating bit and we would eat everything he collected. Suzanne sent us out the door saying, “You two are trick-or-treating; the babies are your costume!”

We were wrong.

IMG_3239.JPGAfter about the second house, it clicked that saying magic words—which came out “teek teat”—produced candy for Jack’s little orange pail. We would prompt him to say thank you—”enk enk”— and as we turned to walk back down the sidewalk, he would shout, “More!”

We accidentally introduced Jack to two of the seven deadly sins last night: greed and gluttony.

About halfway through, we had to empty his overflowing pail into the diaper bag because it had grown too heavy. When Jon handed him back the empty pail, Jack cried, “where go? more, more!” When homeowners simply held out their candy bowls to him, Jack went back for another piece. And when we finally returned home, he said “Choc! More!” indicating he knew full well the contents of his pail, he’d waited patiently through the gathering phase, and he would like his candy now, please and enk enk.

IMG_3238.JPGWe emptied his pail into our own candy bowl, leaving only a Clementine orange (which we ate together), a few raisins, and little pumpkin-oat muffin (which Aunt Suzanne snuck in there when Jack wasn’t looking). He stood in the corner of the family room, eating his “spoils” while we peeled off his costume and wiped the paint off his face.

Well, that’s over now, we thought. Close one—we almost created a sugar monster but now he’ll forget all about it as he sleeps.

Wrong again.



IMG_3233.JPGThis morning, he was shouting “orange! choc! more!” before he even made it out of the crib—eyebrows still green from the paint. He was terribly disappointed to find his pail with only a small canister of bubbles and a mini-tub of Play Doh (thank you, Andersons, for treats he can actually enjoy!).

In case you needed a reminder that almost-two-year-olds are still human, look no further than Jack Keller on his first Halloween.


Not to be left out, Gracie rifled through the candy bowl this morning and gummed practically everything. I think the Kit Kat wrapper was her favorite.