GodLovesLauren’s Neighborhood

Exciting News from Six Apart (and the YouTube Conduit is Fixed)

Team Vox
5 days ago
24 comments

First, we're happy to announce that the team has identified and fixed the issue with the YouTube conduit; you can now find and add videos from YouTube to your library and posts. As always, thanks for your patience!

The other news we have today is about a new addition to the Six Apart family: TypePad Micro, a new free level of TypePad that is streamlined for microblogging. We see a new form of blogging emerging that lives between the quick status updates of Twitter and Facebook and the long-form posts of "classic" blogging; TypePad Micro is designed to meet that need. You can read more about TypePad Micro in Chris Alden's post on the Everything TypePad blog.

TypePad Micro

1 comment

A lot of the new capabilities we've added to TypePad this year were actually inspired by some of the best things about Vox: favoriting, member profiles, a dashboard to follow other bloggers, and easy ways to post content from other social media sites. But the things that make Vox different from TypePad are still there: Vox has always been -- and still is -- the best place for "friends and family" blogging, where you're in control over who sees what. TypePad, on the other hand, is built for the blogger who wants, no, craves, attention.

Do you have a passion or interest you want to share with people beyond your Vox neighborhood? If so, we'd love it if you tried out TypePad Micro. Maybe you've always wanted to start that obsessive blog that's just about waffle restaurants. Or want a place to share videos of your favorite band (Jonas Brothers, anyone? Anyone? ...). TypePad Micro's great for those topic-specific blogs. Take it for a spin and let us know what you think.

On the Vox front, our designers are working on some cool new themes (coming soon!). We'd also love to hear your thoughts about where we should take Vox in the coming year. What are the key things you'd like to see for Vox? If you've had a chance to use TypePad this year, what are the features there that we should bring over to Vox? And, if you're thinking big thoughts, how could we connect the Vox and TypePad communities in order to bring together bloggers and their shared passions? Your feedback is really important to us, so please leave a comment here, or shoot me a message.

And again, thanks for your patience as we found and fixed the YouTube bug!

~ daisy

YouTube Conduit

Team Vox
6 days ago
9 comments

As many of you have noticed, the YouTube Conduit is not working. I am so sorry about this; I know how frustrating it is.

The team is looking into how to get this fixed and I will update you as soon as I hear something. In the meantime, not all is lost... There is a work-around for posting videos.

When you're in the Compose Screen, just click on "embed." Ignore the fact that it says "Widget" before everything because you can definitely use this to embed videos as well. You'll just need to input the embed code from the video, enter a title (if you want) and hit OK.

It might not show up perfectly in your compose screen, but when you hit "Save," your video should appear just the way you wanted it to.

Hopefully this will allow you to keep posting videos while we figure out what's happening on our end.

As always, thanks for your patience.

~daisy

God Speaks Italian

Kimber
6 days ago
4 comments

Had one of those weekends. You know which kind.

Spent Sunday morning in covert hysterics, agonizing over my parenting skills or the lack thereof. Praying for an answer--direction, hope, anything.

But I receive nothing. God is eerily silent.

And then sitting in the van that morning, waiting for my kids to pile in before church. Freezing because both doors are open. My eldest has planted herself in the driveway. "I'm not getting in the back," she insists.

"Neither are we," her brothers retort. "We were here first." They don't care that she's really, really tall, and she's wearing a skirt.

"We're wearing suits," they remind her.

"It's not as hard to climb back there in a suit."

They sit there, staring forward. Smug.

They've had this discussion before. Frequently. I don't take sides. I wait for someone to give. "No arguing," I remind them when voices begin to rise, and so they conduct their debate in subdued, reasonable tones. Back and forth. But no one budges.

And then I remember--we didn't have our morning prayer. I say, "Hey, we need to have prayer." Daughter folds her arms, still firmly planted outside the van. Son whose turn it is bows his head, "Dear Heavenly Father," he prays. You can almost hear the smugness in his voice. "Please help us get to church on time, and to stop fighting." He still doesn't move. Honestly--I thought he might recognize the irony, and give in.

No way.

But the youngest does. He dives over the back seat with a smile on his face. It feels good to be the hero.

Thank you! And we are on our way.

At church, I struggle somewhat to focus on the speakers. Something about listening to the promptings of the spirit. Yeah, yeah, I've heard this before.

After sacrament meeting is over and the kids have skedaddled to classes, a member of the bishopric comes down off the stand. He sits next to me. This is the guy who assigns people to terrible things like serving as Scoutmaster or public speaking.

"How are you doing?" he asks, in his thick Italian accent.

"Great!" I smile broadly at him. Because even if he has another task for me, I have to admit I am fine. Even in the face of my worries and God's silence, I'm okay. I've been in far worse places before. It's just been one of those weeks, and there will be other, better weeks. I know this.

"I just wanted to thank you for your son," he says simply. He's referring to the smug one, in the van. "He amazes me in class and at activities."

"He's a pretty good kid," I acknowledge, and as I say it, I can feel the truth of what this man is saying in my bones. I see my son's life in one snapshot. He is a good kid. His stubbornness drives us all a bit crazy sometimes, but he more than makes up for it in so many ways.

The Italian proceeds to tell me exactly why my son amazes him. I'm trying to maintain my smile, because otherwise I'm going to begin sobbing and melt into a puddle of snot and tears. The examples he gives amaze me, too. I'm not sure I taught him those things.

This was a middle-aged, bespectacled man speaking to me, but I heard the voice of God in my extremities. It's going to be okay. Your efforts will be enough. You are not alone.

I barely made it out of there in time to dissolve in private and I had less than an hour to compose myself before I had to get up and teach my class of young women--whose mothers probably agonize over them.

Your best effort is enough. You are not alone. God hears and answers prayer--sometimes in an Italian accent, and often when you least expect it--but His grace is ever-sufficient.

"God does notice us and He watches over us, but it is usually through another person that he meets our needs." (Spencer W. Kimball, 1895-1985.)

Actually... God Doesn't Really Need You

Kimber
Nov 13, 2009
1 comment

Although I have seen the film literally dozens (possibly hundreds) of times before, I was struck by this verse: "And God made two great lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light to rule the night."

Struck by that word--"rule"--and the image of the sun on its path through the sky and the moon and the stars. Rule. In what way does a big rock in the sky rule the night? A fireball ninety-three million miles away rule the day?

Are they coercive? Demanding? Do they nag to you pick up your socks?

Not so much.

They are constant. Predictable and consistent. They add light, warmth, and rhythm to our days. Together they are the very source of life as we know it, and yet they go about their business regardless of the opinion, actions or desires of any individual or special-interest group.

Which somehow brought to mind this statement:

"God did not give that first great commandment because He needs us to love Him. His power and glory are not diminished should we disregard, deny, or even defile His name. His influence and dominion extend through time and space independent of our acceptance, approval or admiration."

Clearly, God rules in much the same way as those celestial spheres.

Uchtdorf goes on to say, "No, God does not need us to love Him. But oh, how we need to love God!" and he proceeds to remind of us why, however I'm stuck on this idea that God doesn't need us--which obviously, He doesn't, but I also remember that other oft-quoted statement:

"God does notice us and He watches over us, but it is usually through another person that He meets our needs."

I'm trying to wrap my mind around both truths at once.

If God does not need us. If he rolls on, eternally unchanging and independent of our actions or non-actions, why does he so often work through our failing, frail, faulty human hands? Because he does--I know this. But why?

I could postulate forever, even quote you some authoritative answers on the subject, but it might be more enlightening to ponder the answer during some quiet moment, yourself.

Deeply intriguing, even somewhat disturbing, as I consider how I should be interacting with other faulty humans in light of the answers I came up with--if I would emulate the love of the Father and the example set by His Son.

Consumer Reports, Volume Three

Kimber
Nov 12, 2009
12 comments

I bought this amazing pan at Costco. I have been cooking eggs in it for weeks now, out of sheer delight at its truly non-stick properties.

Today while wiping it clean, I had an electrifying thought: why doesn't someone market a wall paint like this? Is there somewhere I can take my doors and have them coated with this stuff? Door handles, at the very least?

While we're endorsing the consumerist lifestyle anyway, let me just say that buying a good set of knives should be high on your list of things to do in this life; I should know. I just bought knives, after sixteen years of hacking away with a) a dollar store paring knife or b) a big old plastic-handled knife the Mr. brought home from Argentina sixteen years ago. He keeps trying to toss it, but there are some things the paring knife can't handle. Well. Actually, now that I have real knives, I realize that there were a lot of things that neither knife was handling very well. A knife snob might mock my new knives; to me, they are heaven.

Cats, Saw Blades and Arctic Temperatures

Kimber
Nov 9, 2009
6 comments

Ten lessons learned from my weekend backsplash/island tiling project:

You can do it yourself;all those dusty little bits and pieces--guards and guides and such--that you don't know how to attach to the tile saw--just leave them in the shed. Yes. You heard me. All you need is the spinning blade and the table. (Although...don't quote me on that if you're in any way connected with OSHA.)
Putting the saw up on some kind of table--some kind of elevated platform, would likely be worth the extra effort as opposed to just setting it on the lawn and squatting for hours at a stretch. Saves your glutes; and then you don't have to imagine what would happen should you accidentally lose your balance and plunge, face-first into the saw blade.
Cats are not frightened of plunging into said blade; it doesn't make any loud terrifying sounds until it's actually cutting something. Just spins and throws water everywhere. Which, apparently, they don't notice either.
Eye protection is not optional.
Eye protection with windshield wipers would be a killer idea.
I look good covered in pulverized slate...mixed with water and sprayed on with a fine mist, it brings out the color of my eyes. Possibly because they--and the circles left from the goggles--are the only thing not slate colored by the end of the day.
Pulverized slate makes a fail-proof, fade-proof fabric dye. There is no detergent on earth that will take the color out, once it's in.
Standing in an arctic wind while operating the saw doesn't actually help that much in keeping the water out of your eyes. You would think it would, though.
Buy extra tiles. And then throw a few more in the cart for good measure. Okay, fine. Set them gently in the cart. You always need more than you think.
Because when you run to the store for those last few tiles, and your mortar is setting up and so you don't take time to shower or change or even to rub some of the mud out of your hair, you will run into every single person you know.

Potential Underwear

Kimber
Nov 9, 2009
9 comments

So.

We're at Wal-mart. On our way past the boys' section, I remember that my boys said they need underwear. Who knew: to be a tightey-whitey wearer in middle school is the utmost in humiliation--and apparently they know these things about one another. And so I send the oldest on a mission: Go pick out some boxers.

I'm contemplating a display of holiday cards when he returns. He looks a little flushed; he is empty handed.

"What?" I say.

"What what?"

"You couldn't find any?"

"No. I mean, yeah. I found some."

"Where are they?"

He pats his abdomen; it crinkles. For the first time I notice the bulge under his shirt.

"Give those to me!" I exclaim. "They're going to think you're a shoplifter!"

But the boy feints left; he won't let me have the underwear until he determines my motives. "Are you going to hide them, or are you going to walk around the store showing my underwear to everyone that walks by?" he asks.

Ah yes. The intensely personal nature of potential underwear; I had forgotten.

Happy Mother's Day

Kimber
Nov 4, 2009
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You know those times when two siblings have fairly equal claim to a certain privilege and the older one is coaxing, wheedling, offering mega-bucks in increasing increments in exchange for capitulation from his younger sibling and the younger sibling is digging in his heels deeper and deeper and you're listening to the exchange and you're bracing yourself for the worst? You know the feeling of dread? Because you know that no matter whose favor you come down on, your eardrums are done for?

And then the older child unexpectedly not only takes the high road but goes the extra mile and makes his whining little brother feel like king of the universe and everyone is suddenly all smiles and warm fuzzies and it turns out you were bracing yourself for nothing at all--don't you want to just break down and cry?