tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-60639215070785105402024-03-13T21:19:01.486-07:00Living a life grateful for all He is...Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger63125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-91820916642027379492013-08-26T12:20:00.002-07:002013-08-26T12:42:36.276-07:00Dear Miley...<!--?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8" standalone="no"?-->
<span style="font-family: Arial;">I have to admit. I don't follow Hollywood too much but I do peek at the pictures and catch a few stories on People.com every now and then. I pretty much never watch awards shows and really don't care at all who won what. I don't know if that makes me old or not cool or religious but it's not for the sake of religion, I just really never cared... ever. Maybe that puts me in the "not cool" camp but I'm ok with that. So, when I hopped on Facebook this morning to every other status update being about Miley Cyrus my initial reaction was a roll of the eyes. Really, Miley's going through a stage and it's not pretty… so what? Yet, after a couple of exchanges with people I actually respect who had commented about her, I bit the bait and I watched the video. It left me with three things that I want to say... 'cause I know people care about what I say, not really, but whatever.</span><br />
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1. What is the deal with the giant teddy bears? Seriously. I just can't get over it! I looked up the lyrics to the song (hello, anyone read Genesis 3... anyone?) and I'm more confused. Giant bears… just weird... and confusing... and weird.</div>
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2. Miley is no different than any other person. She wants to be different. She wants to be noticed. She wants to be valued. Unfortunately, someone told her that this was how to be those things but <b><i>her performance was not shocking</i></b>. Really, it wasn't. I mean, I grew up watching Madonna. It's hard to beat that. For real, the woman was queen of shocking us; cones on her boobs, books about illicit sex, the only redeeming thing about that mess was that in "Papa Don't Preach" she actually wanted to keep her baby! Sigh. I digress. The point is that Miley just wants some attention and to do her own thing. Who hasn't? All her life she's heard what she <i>should</i> do and she's questioning that. You know, kind of like Eve did in the Garden of Eden. Just like we do in countless other ways. The thing is that, for most of us, we have questioned certain boundaries but haven't ever had anyone pushing us toward others, like Miley does. Come on, how many of your friends would tell you to put on a nude colored bikini and grind on a foam finger? Even if I could get past the nude bikini, which I vehemently oppose, I die at the thought of getting on a stage in said bikini and then the foam finger??? It's simply not a temptation for most of us but it really isn't shocking to me. Sad but not shocking.</div>
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3. Christians… (side note: I'm not a fan of using that word in this country due to so many varying definitions but that's a totally different discussion) Church… <b><i>people who claim to know and follow Jesus</i></b>, we're doing this wrong. We are supposed to be the visual image of the invisible God. That alone sounds weird to people who aren't believers. Our character, our actions, our<i> reactions</i> are supposed to tell the world who Jesus is and how he would respond. I have to tell you something and after reading the world wide webs this morning it might be more shocking that Miley's attention seeking performance; Jesus was not shocked last night. He wasn't. He knew what she would do and <i>he's seen it before</i>… A LOT. <b>Another thing, no lost person decides that they want to know Jesus because people who claim to know Jesus are appalled by them.</b> "What is wrong with you?" does not incite a desire to run to the corner church and plea to be a member! If we want to be the hands and feet of Jesus, we cannot live shocked at how depraved people can be apart from Christ. Yes, it should break our hearts. Yes, we should acknowledge that it's awful and sinful and ugly and even embarrassing. But our "little white lies" and our church gossip and our efforts to be a good bible study girl so that others will think we're oh so holy… these things nailed Jesus to the cross just as much as Miley seeking for unholy attention and degrading herself on national television. Let's be careful, Christ followers, to not sin ourselves when we see someone so broken! Can we for just a second pick our righteous chins off the floor and see that her actions are a symptom of her inner brokenness? Can we for a second stop talking about how gross she is and see her how Jesus sees her? Because, you know what? He died for her too. He loves her too. Can we, as his followers, see that what he would want us to do is remind her that his arm is not too short to save and her sin is not more powerful than the cross? Can we do that? Because if we cannot, I'm afraid that we might have bigger problems than Miley. They just look prettier and no one is videotaping us.
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Dear Miley,
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Sweet girl, I cannot imagine you'd ever read this but you won't the be last girl I encounter who needs to hear it. Did you wake up with your head banging this morning? I remember feeling that way too. That party life is so hard on the body, huh? Did you catch the twitter feed this morning? I'm sure you acted like you didn't care but it hurts, doesn't it? I'm sorry. Back when I was your age all that stuff just spread through the gossip mill but it moved fast then too. I'd act like I didn't care but sometimes I'd cry a little when no one was looking. It will probably be a while before you believe this and I know full well I wouldn't have listened if someone would have told me but it's not worth it. <i> <b>All that work you're putting into being "you," well, if it were really you, it wouldn't be so much work.</b> </i> I know, though. I remember the rush of being noticed. I even remember the high of knowing I'd shocked someone. You just can't help but roar in laughter, can you? You know what, though? Jesus wasn't shocked. Nope, not a bit. He didn't stop loving you either and he misses you like crazy. Here's the thing with Jesus, he just wants you to stop trying to impress people. He doesn't even want you to try to impress him. You don't have to try to change yourself and be some perfect bible study girl. There's just as much brokenness there… it just doesn't get videotaped and put on tv. The only thing in the world that Jesus wants is for you to just be with him, believe him and trust him. He loves you, girl. He really does and no matter how hard you try, he won't stop and when you're ready to stop trying so hard, he'll be right there because he made you special and you don't have to prove that to him.
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Much love,
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Been there. Done that. Grateful no one taped it. </div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-69186356231550401742012-12-13T22:12:00.000-08:002012-12-13T22:14:40.889-08:00Mekahlia"You better put these up on your blog!"<br />
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"Ummm... I haven't done a work blog for a few years."<br />
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"Oh." <br />
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There are some things that only your best friend of nearly three decades can say to you and when they do, you just laugh. There are at least a million quotes about friendship...<br />
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“Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another: "What! You too? I thought I was the only one.”
―
C.S. Lewis<br />
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“A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you.”
―
Elbert Hubbard<br />
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“When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most
to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice,
solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our
wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us
in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of
grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not
healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a
friend who cares.”
―
Henri J.M. Nouwen,
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</i><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6063921507078510540"><br /></a><br />
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“If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day so I never have to live without you.” Winnie the Pooh<br />
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“We'll be Friends Forever, won't we, Pooh?' asked Piglet.<br />
Even longer,' Pooh answered.”<br />
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“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind. "Pooh?" he whispered.<br />
"Yes, Piglet?"<br />
"Nothing," said Piglet, taking Pooh's hand. "I just wanted to be sure of you.” <br />
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Each of those quotes remind me of my friend Jill. I have been incredibly blessed to call Jill my friend for almost 3/4 of my life. (I'm going to completely ignore how old this post will make me sound and feel.) Throughout junior high and high school we were "BBB" Best Bus Buddies. We sat together each day on the way to and from school. It wasn't a long ride. I only lived three miles from the school but there was just something about knowing that someone was saving you a seat. Every day she saved my seat and we've been doing that for each other ever since.<br />
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Of course we don't ride buses any longer (Thank you Lord!) but that sense of knowing that no matter what is happening in life, like Elbert Hubbard inferred in the quote above, someone in the world gets me. We don't have to say anything at all and yet, we'll sit up talking and giggling so hard that our stomachs hurt the next day and the bags under our eyes have their own zip codes. Like I said, I'm blessed to have such a friend.<br />
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Well, the blog post she commanded ;) is one I'm just as blessed to share with all of you... even though it makes me feel even older!<br />
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This young beauty is her oldest daughter, Mekahlia and she is a high school SENIOR...<br />
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Sigh. I can't believe she's a senior. This gorgeous young lady was the first person to call me "Aunt" and it's a title I have loved with all my heart! I was there the day she was born. It was my first experience with natural childbirth. Jill is way tougher than me and opted not to have an epidural... and let me tell you, while she is a lovely person on any other day of her life, don't talk to her when she's in labor. I didn't. :) In fact, I stayed in the hall... listening.<br />
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I can only imagine how the hospital staff had to laugh at us that day. Both of Mekahlia's grandmothers and myself stood outside of the delivery room with our ears stuck to the door listening to all that was going on inside. We didn't know if she was a boy or a girl until that day and I can still see the tears spilling over her daddy's eyes when he opened the door and told us the news. <br />
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When she was just a year old I lived with them one summer break. It was a different time in life back then and I stayed out much too late and every morning I'd wake up to the same sweet sound "Aunt Da! Aunt Da!" She'd come toddling in and wake me up just an hour or two after I'd arrived home. We'd spend the days singing, dancing and watching Winnie the Pooh. Clearly I didn't need as much sleep back then. <br />
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She has since grown into a beautiful, smart and wonderful woman who laughs at me when I try to keep her in line or treat her like she's still my little girl. She has a wonderfully ridiculous silly side, a great sense of humor and a kindness that makes my heart so happy. I don't know that she'll ever be able to grasp just how proud of her I am.<br />
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Here are just a <i>few</i> more of the crazy ridiculous number of photos we took over a couple of days.<br />
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Just so that everyone knows, my payment for this session was Cashew Chicken at Leong's Tea House on Springfield, MO and it was delicious!!! I guess I should get a sign that says "Will work for food." :)<br />
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Hey Jill, I put them on a blog. :) Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-71104588522307227892012-12-05T11:28:00.000-08:002012-12-06T07:17:36.877-08:00Perfectionism<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">per-fec-tion-ism [per-<b>fek</b>-sh<i>u</i>n-niz-<b>uh</b>m] - noun</span></span><br />
<ol>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">any of various doctrines holding that religious, moral, social or political perfection is attainable</span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">a personal standard, attitude, or philosophy that demands perfection and rejects anything less</span></span></li>
</ol>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Perfectionism plagues me. At times it literally keeps me from sharing thoughts, blog posts, and ultimately, myself. Seriously, I have seventeen blog posts that I have started but haven't published because they just didn't seem right. This morning I had to make myself take deep breaths because <span style="font-size: large;">m</span>y stunningly beautiful daughter came in to kiss me good morning, all ready for school, and had shoved her hair into a messy ponytail. <i> Didn't she remember that today was her D.A.R.E. graduation?! </i> Of course she did. She just isn't a perfectionist and she thought she looked just fine. I swear this whole pathetic exchange happened inside my head after she walked out:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0].[0]"><span style="font-size: large;"></span>It's ok that she doesn't care what she looks like. </span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0].[0]">She's not<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>vain
and that's good. </span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0].[0]">But I really want her to look pretty. </span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<i><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[0].[0]">She IS pretty.
You're the one that's a vain perfectionist. She is prett</span></span><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">y
AND not<span style="font-size: large;"> </span>vain, like you wish you could be. Embrace it and be glad that
she doesn't care if she's like everyone else. </span></span></span></span></span></span></i><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">Oh yea, I don't want her
to be like the world. I want her to be set apart, to see her value as it comes from God and not other things.... but if she'd just let me do her hair!!!</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">So, yes, I'm a vain perfectionist AND I talk to myself. It's scary in my head at times but that's not the point here. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">Aren't we all a little bit of a perfectionist? Yes, let's <span style="font-size: large;">put our attention on all of us instead of <span style="font-size: large;">just me. </span></span>Even the most loving parent starts out that way. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">Someone asks, "Do you want a boy or a girl?"</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">Everyone knows the right answer is:</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">"I don't care as long as it's healthy."</span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">Perfectionism. Maybe it isn't as ridiculous as I am with Madeline's hair but it's still there... whispering... in the heart of us all "I just want my baby to be perfect."</span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">But what do we do when God's idea of a perfect baby isn't the same as our idea of a perfect baby? </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">Last year a couple of my friends began a journey to reconcile that very thing in t<span style="font-size: large;">heir hearts</span>. They prayed desperately for their third child and due some unexpected medical issues for her, only had a very small window to conceive that child and conceive they did. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">Months of celebration ensued as they planned to bring their perfect baby into their perfect home when all of a sudden, in the middle of their joy, they ran smack dab into a concrete wall. She was about five months along when they went in for a routine ultrasound only to learn that the baby they had pleaded to receive had a cleft lip. Doctors were uncertain at the time the extent of the cleft... would it just be a little plastic surgery on the lip or would the palate be involved too? Would it affect his growth and development? Are there other issues or syndromes or defects that they would learn later? Question after question consumed their every second. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">It's not what we want to hear "You're baby's not perfect" because at the heart of everyone is just a little bit of a perfectionist. I mean, we can have messy kids. They can totally wear that Spiderman costume to the grocery store WITH their rainboots on and we're cool with that. It doesn't bother us ONE.LITTLE.BIT that there's cheetos on their face because that's what they had for dinner, YES, DINNER! Perfectionism does not consume <i><b>all</b></i> of us... </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">we don't care, <i>as long as they're healthy</i>. </span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">Brian and Amey began a journey this past year that has taken them up and down, twirling all around a spiritual and emotional roller coaster and they have learned that what God says is perfect IS perfect. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]"><br /></span></span></span></span></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]" style="font-size: large;"><span class="UFICommentBody" id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]"><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]."><span id=".reactRoot[5].[1][2][1]{comment454578131254514_4865049}..[1]..[1]..[0].[0][2]..[3]..[0]">Meet Bryce. </span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6hiJo7YXD9MgC2nkn3FOKduJB8MaRXu24ND15Btl18SXMGI1tJ2coB5fisgc6y63VbEq6wIebX7i6lYyoXz1NaCzTwX6Y-qpfOQMgZNNAjhH5uhJQUXlit16JAZ2LMG5v07vuunXq6fl/s1600/IMG_6286+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgg6hiJo7YXD9MgC2nkn3FOKduJB8MaRXu24ND15Btl18SXMGI1tJ2coB5fisgc6y63VbEq6wIebX7i6lYyoXz1NaCzTwX6Y-qpfOQMgZNNAjhH5uhJQUXlit16JAZ2LMG5v07vuunXq6fl/s640/IMG_6286+copy.jpg" width="426" /> </a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Seriously, is it even possible to be cuter than he is?! I could just swim in those big brown eyes and that curl on top just has me UNDONE... and you just cannot miss that sweet beautiful <i>smile! </i></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I asked for the privilege of photographing Bryce while he was on this journey for totally selfish reasons. AS I mentioned <a href="http://grateful4his.blogspot.com/2012/12/finding-life.html" target="_blank">yesterday</a>, life had kind of stunk for a while. It wasn't turning out like I'd hoped and well, perfection seemed as far away as Pluto. I knew that I desperately needed to see things more through God's eyes than through mine. Lucky for me, Brian and Amey said yes. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">When we first began Bryce was just about to undergo his first surgery. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpzRHrDRmH05NmPrR3elQeUUlrej-n0R7jwCmCd5XE2Hej-LYQnpIGz7LsAS7V8HnhjuFtDVUlOqKtDHgJ3bbb7gXaNVhGYFEruR1rPANUQ85pMsd8HoYcWT1SGl8Dz898n7seHljOLsI/s1600/052012-119+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpzRHrDRmH05NmPrR3elQeUUlrej-n0R7jwCmCd5XE2Hej-LYQnpIGz7LsAS7V8HnhjuFtDVUlOqKtDHgJ3bbb7gXaNVhGYFEruR1rPANUQ85pMsd8HoYcWT1SGl8Dz898n7seHljOLsI/s640/052012-119+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS4y0Qin56UOe1IHhGVyEVuoRX4neAT77223oV_WqKNyDJoMNHzuU7WFnvdQGckwOONqEKsZ34NZkwKvk88M_ZUQ-AKKt0Wf6vlBMuBmST1q9RluCDQNU0H0CvzNJ2qiKGXnwAlvF66uZ9/s1600/052012-131+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS4y0Qin56UOe1IHhGVyEVuoRX4neAT77223oV_WqKNyDJoMNHzuU7WFnvdQGckwOONqEKsZ34NZkwKvk88M_ZUQ-AKKt0Wf6vlBMuBmST1q9RluCDQNU0H0CvzNJ2qiKGXnwAlvF66uZ9/s400/052012-131+copy.jpg" width="266" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP_id9rgISZgTWl2nr2lgkYygKh1zwKY_Y8vHTFofI27AiUvYIL7dKEoXevPnf-NA2GmREwUJpEDwit0ouBwhJ1mmpa2o_mz994jeGGimYBPyss9iWGFjjdXoBxxbFTPea8Y7SWL_o5fzG/s1600/052012-147+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjP_id9rgISZgTWl2nr2lgkYygKh1zwKY_Y8vHTFofI27AiUvYIL7dKEoXevPnf-NA2GmREwUJpEDwit0ouBwhJ1mmpa2o_mz994jeGGimYBPyss9iWGFjjdXoBxxbFTPea8Y7SWL_o5fzG/s400/052012-147+copy.jpg" width="266" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Everyone had fallen crazy in love with this little man and he<span style="font-size: large;"> was</span> growing like a champ! Brian and Amey's idea of "perfect" had already changed quite a bit!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwV7XQRYwOi0UWP_77aK_L0UYstU6tGBlxu4aXTUfr-TM0PZZgOAxv872q75BD7BCe4TUgqUb4S2DRpWQ_JKmx5dGNTZT_y9p22yMSaBUGJjvJFIvIR7Sp9WKYIdhcGAnQnSc7U6ur7Zk/s1600/052012-177+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqwV7XQRYwOi0UWP_77aK_L0UYstU6tGBlxu4aXTUfr-TM0PZZgOAxv872q75BD7BCe4TUgqUb4S2DRpWQ_JKmx5dGNTZT_y9p22yMSaBUGJjvJFIvIR7Sp9WKYIdhcGAnQnSc7U6ur7Zk/s640/052012-177+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The hope for that day was to fix everything on the outside: connect the lip and form a left nostril. Things, however, did not go perfectly. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrNp8znxdDOZ-kxfS100oy_y6C2T5CRn2zasEwiVDAcdifDtrZa2y5lXu1n4TlAbxqhLQVeBpHfGO_PNbT3nwZSxgabgE6pYi48N6NUF_nPK1bzdpy5eiTSD2kttVWN0wRZR554M73h9J/s1600/052012-192+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimrNp8znxdDOZ-kxfS100oy_y6C2T5CRn2zasEwiVDAcdifDtrZa2y5lXu1n4TlAbxqhLQVeBpHfGO_PNbT3nwZSxgabgE6pYi48N6NUF_nPK1bzdpy5eiTSD2kttVWN0wRZR554M73h9J/s640/052012-192+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Bryce had such a hard time breathing with the tubes in his nose and his lip sewn shut so Amey stood next to his bed to hold his mouth open to help him breath more easily.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFGSnFvmtdVzYWWoTEn9jL4f04vkKZ7FBge4cloQhZGzs-zY10iuehT4XlEabi-nbiJNfnqqKl-eI7KwUyBCyoRsgMNtY3tGYrbVoiAUBn4QsvaN6ZPGZncQu-nR68Pu8y8tPJ2O3_LZY/s1600/052012-197+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVFGSnFvmtdVzYWWoTEn9jL4f04vkKZ7FBge4cloQhZGzs-zY10iuehT4XlEabi-nbiJNfnqqKl-eI7KwUyBCyoRsgMNtY3tGYrbVoiAUBn4QsvaN6ZPGZncQu-nR68Pu8y8tPJ2O3_LZY/s640/052012-197+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoxCRdN3vLA2cnhwOIs0gHzWoKN1VPWz3FKOE8705xdb7llyz1mrY3-5Jw7UZi8LZpLmOnR2dhy9HFxkZf9xAwGy-iBYqKx6LLiW3RVzIjQGJTy_oC72UaBaPom57U6Z79Hb9Z5HxsEyB/s1600/052012-201+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwoxCRdN3vLA2cnhwOIs0gHzWoKN1VPWz3FKOE8705xdb7llyz1mrY3-5Jw7UZi8LZpLmOnR2dhy9HFxkZf9xAwGy-iBYqKx6LLiW3RVzIjQGJTy_oC72UaBaPom57U6Z79Hb9Z5HxsEyB/s640/052012-201+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Bryce had to be able to breathe and take a bottle or nurse before they could leave the hospital but that didn't go perfectly either. The tubes in his nose, even the left one that was meant to form a new nostril, had to be removed. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLX0NDDpfGlZy3VycBhVfA17Ad7MP7xvccHEsydkT8xYSF7IjwNGy-EMmyy57777_Efxb362YvCefDcrqK36gphZSsiF7RYamcgHCZ_Ol1jqQSUH9xAKnWw3qPiaG-B8t1IMqooAVnVhuu/s1600/IMG_6327+copy.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMBoQ0KBJBEE4F9361Y_3lgcV_NilGnN4LS4cHafXS13pzUTO7wkqpG56HN2X4TdsHh9zTE0Jma4RS-m5XDMBfxekhIZVdhJDM3E2kE1Y9YsCB7J9VgLVFW-zVGuB5qQJzMZBTi0-otFw/s1600/052012-205+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsMBoQ0KBJBEE4F9361Y_3lgcV_NilGnN4LS4cHafXS13pzUTO7wkqpG56HN2X4TdsHh9zTE0Jma4RS-m5XDMBfxekhIZVdhJDM3E2kE1Y9YsCB7J9VgLVFW-zVGuB5qQJzMZBTi0-otFw/s640/052012-205+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Once they got home things were still far from perfect and they finally had to go back to the hospital and get a tube put in to feed him directly into his stomach. Amey has had to change her diet and pump to give Bryce breastmilk and she'd tell you without hesitation that it's totally worth it. I mean, he's her <b><i>perfect </i></b>baby. And he is. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">A couple of weeks ago I caught up with the family again to capture the prefectness that is Bryce as well as Brody and Mia. <b>Tomorrow Bryce will have surgery again. </b>They'll do a little more work on his lip, try again for that left nostril and hopefully even fix the whole palate. Even though they are confident that God will guide the surgeon's hand and that Bryce will come out of the surgery just fine, Brian and Amey worry and pray and worry and then pray some more. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Bryce may not have been the baby they had in mind when they were hoping to conceive but he is the perfect baby for their family. In the beginning they wondered why the journey had to be so hard but now, they know that it's been worth it. Perfect has been redefined... for them and for me. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">See, God doesn't answer our prayers the way we expect sometimes. Sometimes He says "yes" but more often (at least for me), I hear "wait" or "I have something different in mind." The Bible says that our ways are not His ways and little could be more true. Believing that God's plan is perfect and subsequently, that your plan is not, requires trust and humility. Trust that God<i> is</i> almighty and all-loving. </span></span><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"> Trust that His ways <i>are</i> higher than our ways.<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span> Trust that His plans <i>are</i> to prosper us and not to harm us, even though, sometimes, it hurts...a lot. Humility to accept not just that our plan wasn't best but that <i><b>we are ultimately powerless to fix anything at all</b></i>.... </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">But sometimes... if we'll stop trying to fix things ourselves... sometimes we just might catch a glimpse of what <b><i>God</i></b> says is perfect and we're blown away. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I saw it last week when I was editing. I sent Amey a screenshot of that first photo and a text that read:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"As I am staring into his big brown eyes and smiling back at his beautiful smile, I just wanted to tell you that whatever they do in his next surgery, one thing they cannot do: they cannot make him any cuter or anymore perfect that God made him. He takes my breath away!" </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">God's "perfect" gives us everything we need at the exact time we need it. ALWAYS...especially when it looks drastically different than our view of perfect!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Please pray with me and everyone else who loves Bryce that tomorrow goes smoothly, that the doctors are able to do everything they need to do to help Bryce as he grows up and all transitions post-surgery go smoothly as well. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Here are a few more of this beautiful family from last week:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Aren<span style="font-size: large;">'t they perfect?!</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Brian and Amey, He was born perfectly beautiful. Thank you for sharing him with me!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-29349253508190467842012-12-04T12:03:00.000-08:002012-12-04T13:18:31.330-08:00Finding life...<div>
<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Day after day I struggle to feel… to feel joy or sorrow or pain or
contentedness… nearly anything at all would be fine with me. On good
days the joy <i>does</i> come. A smile from the boy as he leaps to my
arms or the sound of the girl's deep laughter filling the space and
then some or a twirl in the kitchen in the arms of the one I love, they
remind me that I <i>am</i> still alive. Breath fills the alveoli of
my lungs, only to be pushed back out again. Blood courses through my
veins and so often my heart pounds loudly enough that I hear it with my
ears. Physically, I am alive. Yet I strive to live. I strive to feel.
I struggle to be more than just alive. On good days the joy will come
and it rolls in like a summer storm, filling the places so dry, cracked
and lifeless… quenching the thirst of the drought wrecked land… and
then it blows away as suddenly as it arrived. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"I'm
alive even though a part of me has died." <span style="font-size: large;">s</span>ays the lyrics of a song and
each time the words touch my ears I'm certain that a part of me <i>has</i>
died. The harsh judging words of a friend left me beaten and unsure
that I held any value at all. The betrayal of another left me
questioning whether I could even hear His voice. The unexpected passing
of my sweet Papa, the biological father I'd known for way too short a
time just left me absolutely undone... in the worst possible way. The
brokenness, the selfishness and the rejection of all that is good, of
all that has been redeemed surrounds me at each turn and has left me
wounded, broken and bleeding on the spiritual emergency room floor… I
gasp for breath, flailing, reaching desperately for my throat as the
wailing scream climbs from deep within my soul and fills the room as I
cling to life. I am that drought wrecked land. Barren, exhausted and
unable to produce anything that resembles life. No matter how hard I
try, no matter what new thing I commit to my days… my heart wastes away
wondering why in the world I am here. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Why? Why am I here? </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Surely
it isn't just me. Knowing the truth but not feeling it in my bones.
Believing that I am a new creation, not in my image but His… yet,
finding a tired, depleted and weary reflection in the mirror each
morning. Acquainted with the sound of His voice but overcome by the
silence penetrating the depths of my soul. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">It is a season of drought... a time in the valley... a time when grief is a constant companion. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Yet,
if I open my eyes, turn them away from myself I can see, off in the
distance, the tiniest of flowers growing from the crack in the dry
ground... there in that deep valley is a creek... it was the water in
that creek that made the valley. It carved out a space in the ground,
washed away the dirt and in the bed of that creek are moss covered rocks
big enough to climb, fish swimming upstream... it's there, can you see
it? Life. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The last couple
of years of my life have contained more loss than any of the prior
almost four decades, combined. I've lost pets, friends, family members,
passion, hope, dreams, health and the list goes on. A part of me has died but I
<i>am</i> alive. So, I get up each day and I kiss my babies and my
husband. I find something to be grateful for, every day. I call (or
text) my friends and family. I pray constantly. Tullian Tchividjian said something about life <span style="font-size: large;">being</span>
harder more than it is easy. That's not a direct quote but it's the
best I can remember it. It's so true. God never promised that life
would be easy and it's not, just that He would be with us wherever we go
and He does. It's up to us to acknowledge Him. So, I choose to open
my eyes and see Him... EVERY.SINGLE.DAY... I look for Jesus... </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> ... and I find Him. </span></span></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-69321973264618411752012-08-15T08:44:00.000-07:002012-08-17T12:30:45.183-07:00Update on my mom and sister after "NADO 2012"It's been just over two weeks since my <a href="http://grateful4his.blogspot.com/2012/07/all-that-matters-is-ok.html" target="_blank">mom and sister lost all of their stuff</a>... ALL of their stuff. While we're so grateful that only "stuff" was lost, going through each day reminds us of how much we rely on our "stuff." You don't think about these things most days because they're just there but dishes, silverware, beds... they just make life so much easier!<br />
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I've had so many people call, message, stop me at school and/or stores to ask what they can do and I haven't been able to give specific answers until now and even now, it's only a partial list. Kayla and her boys got moved into a house on Sunday and so she's finding, as she goes throughout her days, what she still needs to function. Here's her list so far:<br />
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trike for Rykan (2 1/2) - maybe it's not a need but he really misses his<br />
Any and everything Thomas the Train<br />
Kids movies (He is really missing the following: Cars, Lion King, and any of The Land Before Time movies)<br />
black curtain <br />
DVD player<br />
Baker's rack<br />
Silverware<br />
Dishes (Plan please)<br />
Glasses<br />
Cooking utensils<br />
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Basically, she just needs to be able to keep it dark for the boys to sleep, feed them and entertain them! All of us parents know that it's always all about our kids! If you're wanting to donate something, you can either drop stuff off at my home or you can mail it to her:<br />
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Kayla Houston<br />
PO Box 594<br />
Richland, MO 65556<br />
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I know that you're probably wondering how they're doing. The good news is that Kayla and Daxton (8 month old) are doing very well. A few days after the tornado Kayla had to go to the ER and discovered that she had kidney stones. She confirmed what I've always heard, it's worse than giving birth! She seems to be feeling a bit better this week as far as that goes but is, overall, run down and tired. Nursing school starts for her next week so please pray that she is all rested up so she can show them how smart she is! Rykan (2 1/2 year old) is physically fine as well but he is DEFINITELY having some anxiety since the tornado. If there is a hint of wind or a storm, he needs his momma! My prayer is that he'd forget and not have any future anxiety about storms. Sweet baby is just too young to have had such a scare already!<br />
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Mom has rented a home but it needs a little bit of work before she can get moved in. They're hoping to get most of that done this week! She is still looking for a car so please join us in prayer that she finds one that runs well, will last a long time and is in her price range! While I'm sure we'll figure out more things that she needs after she gets moved in, here's her list so far:<br />
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Queen size bed<br />
TV<br />
DVD player <br />
Dishes<br />
Silverware<br />
Glasses<br />
Cooking utensils<br />
Crib (she babysits three kids every day)<br />
Crib sheets<br />
Rocking chair<br />
Lamps <br />
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I know that there will be more but, like I said, we'll figure that out once she is in the house. Anything for mom can still be sent to Cari's (my other sister) or dropped off at my house. Cari's address is:<br />
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Karen Doss<br />
c/o Cari Pendergrass<br />
254 Mossy Oak Drive<br />
Stoutland, MO 65567<br />
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As always, Wal-mart gift cards are best but Target isn't too far either.<br />
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As far as physically, mom wound up with two broken ribs and QUITE A BIT of bruising. She was holding Daxton and when they slammed into the toilet, she took it all. He was totally fine and she somehow protected him but at a cost. She is still VERY sore and fatigued. I'm praying that she can get into her house and REALLY rest in the evenings and weekends... and that she'll be able to keep up with three kids during the day!<br />
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There have been SO MANY that have sent gift cards, money and packages and we are so grateful! The world is truly full of amazing people with beautiful hearts! <br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-43083814471469039152012-08-02T12:58:00.000-07:002012-08-02T13:32:50.218-07:00Are you a generous car salesman?<span style="font-size: large;">Ok. That was cheesey but seriously, that's who I'm hoping to reach with this post. If you are a car salesman who has a big heart and are generous, please keep reading. If you're not a car salesman but you know one that might have a desire to help a person in need, please keep reading and pass this post on to him/her.<br /><br />As I posted <a href="http://grateful4his.blogspot.com/2012/07/all-that-matters-is-ok.html" target="_blank">here</a>, my mom lost pretty much everything she owned this past Sunday. She had finally found herself in a place where she didn't owe anything on her car or her home. Life wasn't perfect. She didn't have a lot. what she had wasn't extravagant but she was content. Her 2006 Toyota Prius was totaled and the insurance company gave her the Kelley Blue Book value for it... just as we expected them to do. They were fair and we are so thankful!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">What we are hoping is that she can find another Prius in similar condition to replace what she's lost. If you're in car sales, (or can use the internet) you can easily find the KBB for this car and know what kind of budget we're talking about here. We know it isn't a lot and if you are this salesperson, you won't be pocketing a lot. We know it's a lot to ask but if you are willing to help her, please let me know. <br /><br />My momma is the kind of woman who would literally take off her own coat and give it to someone in need... knowing full well that she couldn't afford to buy herself another. Seriously, she was trying to talk me into taking some of the t-shirts that were donated this week! I'm just praying someone who has a similar heart to my momma will read this and feel called to action!<br /><br /><br /><br />Additional Update:<br /><br />The Red Cross came and assessed the damage and gave Mom, Kayla and the boys a donation to get some new shoes, clothes, and some food. They will also help with the deposit on ONE rental as soon as they find one. It wasn't a huge amount but we're thankful for their assistance!<br /><br />Many people in our small town have donated gift cards, cash, clothes and cleaning supplies. Whatever happens, i don't know that they'll ever have to buy another toothbrush again as long as they live! ;) <br /><br />Many others have already sent word that care packages are on their way. I'm starting to get donations at my house that I'll be taking with me on our next trip down to visit. <br /><br />One thing that they do need is socks. Just like in the drier, the socks have all disappeared! They both lost all of their kitchen stuff too, so that is still needed as well<br /><br />Life will never be exactly as it was but there is hope for a new normal... one day at a time.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-36890833077704923812012-07-31T08:41:00.001-07:002012-08-02T12:39:48.577-07:00All that matters is okI've been posting about this on Facebook but wanted to simplify and just post in one place because, as it has turned out, SO MANY people have wanted to help, have been checking in to see how everyone is and I just thought this would be easier. <br />
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Around 6 p.m. on Sunday evening, my 2 1/2 year old nephew was playing outside. It started to sprinkle and the wind picked up really quickly so he came inside. A few weeks ago my sister, her boyfriend and their two kids moved in with my mom. When Rykan came in from playing and mom noticed the wind, she became alarmed and insisted everyone go onto the bathroom. Mom was int he run with Rykan and his eight month old brother while my sister was checking the radar on her phone. It showed nothing... no stormy weather headed their way... no green, orange or red indicators... no warnings. She actually told mom that it was silly for them to be in the bathroom... and then she felt the trailer start to slip of the blocks.<br />
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She jumped in the tub, grabbing Rykan. In the blink of an eye the trailer was jerking them all around. Mom and baby Daxton flew across the room, slamming into the toilet. Each were praying for it to be over and then it was. Kayla opened her eyes and realized that they were sitting on the ceiling. <br />
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Somehow, mom still had a hold of her cellphone and it seemed like forever passed as they called person after person and no one answered. Then they heard men's voiced yelling, asking if anyone was there. In shouting back and forth they were able to find on another and a space big enough to hand the babies out and for mom and Kayla to crawl out. They were shocked at what they saw when they got out. <br />
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The entire rest of the trailer was splintered and in what looked like a trash pile... everything in one big heap. <br />
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The rest of the trailer was flattened. The only reason the room they were in wasn't flattened as well is that it fell right next to Kayla's SUV. If it had fallen just a few inches either way and they would not have opened their eyes in a room, able to look up at the tub and sink... I doubt that they'd have opened their eyes at all. <br />
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It actually landed in the street but neighbors, family and friends arrived within a few minutes to hug, cry, pick up what could be salvaged and move it away from the downed power line and out of the street. <br />
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Across the street an enormous tree was ripped out of the ground. I wish I'd have had one of the kids stand next to this for reference. That root base is taller than I am. <br />
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In multiple places in the bible, the Lord promises the he will never leave us or forsake us. We each have stood before the rubble that was their home... in awe they they walked away... amazed that the one room that wasn't destroyed was the one room they were in and we KNOW that God was in that room with them. He held them and protected them. He knew that June 29, 2012 was not the day that he marked as their last. The fact that they are alive makes no sense at all outside of the great protector giving them more days. <br />
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Through this small community and through the seemingly unending community of the world wide web, so many have offered help. It's overwhelming in the most wonderful way. Romans 8:28 says, "And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose" and we know that is true. All of you are the good through this. Feeling the love and support of people we've known for decades and those we've never actually met is the love of Jesus being poured upon us and it is so very sweet. <br />
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To keep this from being longer, I'll share what can be done to help and how you can pray if you do. <br />
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They were able to salvage some of their clothing but not all. I know that all of their socks blew away. Their sizes are listed below:<br />
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Mom- size 3 pants size M shirt size 7 1/2 shoes<br />
Kayla- size 1 pants size M shirt size 7 1/2 shoes<br />
Rykan- size 3T size 9 shoes<br />
Daxton- size 12 months size 3 diapers<br />
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Nothing else was really salvageable. Many have offered gift cards and that would be very helpful. Wal-mart and Target are both nearby. Obviously, cash is also helpful as they will both be looking for somewhere to rent. Mom had paid cash for the trailer so she is not used to a monthly payment. They will have an appointment with the Red Cross today and are hoping to get mom's ER visit covered along with a new partial dental plate that was lost covered by them at least. <br />
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The cars had full coverage insurance so please pray they they are able to replace them. Mom had paid for her Prius and didn't have a payment there either. We are praying that she can just get another without having to have a payment. <br />
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So here's a list:<br />
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healing for mom's ribs<br />
clothing<br />
new homes and furnishings<br />
insurance companies to give fair value for the cars<br />
new cars (no payment for mom)<br />
new dental plate for mom<br />
hospital bill to be covered<br />
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If you would like to send something to them, we are having things sent to my other sister's home:<br />
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Karen Doss & Kayla Houston<br />
254 Mossy Oak Drive<br />
Stoutland, MO 65567<br />
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Thank you so much for the prayers and offers of assistance. This has been such a reminder of how EVERYTHING can change in the blink of an eye... how important it is to really live each moment... and how having each other is really all that matters. <br />
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- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhoneUnknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-52837921881323117502012-07-11T13:30:00.000-07:002012-07-11T13:30:30.867-07:00Had a bad day...<span style="font-size: large;">So, not every day around here is perfect... Actually, the number of perfect days are quite few but I try really hard not to whine just for the sake of whining or even just to get attention. I gotta say, however, that today is a day that I really wanted to make one of those "having a bad day.,.." posts on Facebook. However, because I'm always annoyed at the attention seeking of those posts, I refrained. It was really hard though. Totally had to walk away from my phone more than once. Yet, I'm here blogging about it and seeking attention... but the attention isn't for me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, here's my day...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The kids and I had a fairly productive morning... delivered Bear Necessities bags, went for a walk, went to the library and finished our bible study lesson around 11 a.m. At that time I asked them to play for a while so that I could get some editing finished and promised to fix lunch at noon. I logged onto the computer and did not get even one image edited before I heard the familiar sound of screaming coming from upstairs. After proper assessment of the situation, it was clear that (as usual) both were in the wrong. So, we talked about it and then gave them the promised consequence... cleaning the baseboards. They were told to both do the playroom and then their own rooms. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Seriously, this would take less than ten minutes and I know that because that's how long it took Madeline. Gavin, on the other hand, threw himself on the floor... screamed... cried... complained about it not being fair... told me it was "the worst day EVER!"... So, Gavin also got the privilege of doing the baseboards in their bathroom and finally after just an absolutely stupid amount of whining, my and Chris' room. The majority of the crying was done in his room and by the time he got to the bathroom and my room, he was finished in less than ten minutes but as usual, we had to get all the objections out there first. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">By this time it's noon... time for lunch, so I put a pizza in the oven for the kids and began chopping vegetables for myself. Now, I haven't announced this yet but I've recently been put on a gluten free diet and I REALLY wanted some pizza but I was putting my best foot forward, trying to be a trooper and kept on with my veggies and my smile. Gavin finished his lunch and asked if he could get some chips and salsa. As he enthusiastically grabbed the jar of salsa out of the frig and whipped it around, loudly proclaiming his love for salsa, he whipped just a little too much and it crashed on the tile floor... glass and salsa from one side of the room to the other... beautiful white cabinets covered in salsa. Nice. Somehow. I maintained my cool. It WAS an accident after all...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I get the kids out of the kitchen without stepping on glass... get the salsa all cleaned up... FINALLY get my fish cooked... the last piece of tilapia in the house... place it on the plate next to the freshly chopped mango salsa and walk into my office to FINALLY get some work accomplished... sat down and realized that I wanted a few tortilla chips to complete my lunch... go to the kitchen to go get them... came back to find...</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-large;">THE DOG ATE HALF OF MY LUNCH!!! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, it's three hours later... no work done.... no lunch... </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"> STARVING AND CRAZY FRUSTRATED!!!</span><br />
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So, I did what any mature woman would do, I sat myself down on the couch to cry!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Sitting there I remembered the words of Jesus "Man cannot live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of God." I got on my knees and prayed for a while. Now, I want you to know that none of this is the good part... I'm still not to the part I wanted to share. The cool part came AFTER i prayed...Isn't that just so typical of God. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I sat myself back at my desk... opened my <a href="http://evolvechurch.net/" target="_blank">Evolve Church</a> app and found this message:</span><br />
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<center><a href="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/show_photo.php?p=12/07/11/2608.jpg"><img border="0" height="297" src="http://photo.blogpressapp.com/photos/12/07/11/s_2608.jpg" style="margin: 5px;" width="400" /></a></center><br />
<br /><span style="font-size: large;">God knew I would not have a good day today and he knew that I would need to hear that it's not about the bad day but how I react to it. I knew this already but I needed the reminder. I needed to remember that no matter how bad this day is for me, Jesus gave a beautiful example of how to handle a bad day. I'm so grateful for the bad day... I really am and I haven't even eaten yet! I'm grateful to be reminded that God knows my frustrations... He knows my hunger... He knows every detail about me and he knows how it all feels. <br /><br />If you haven't heard of Evolve Church and/or haven't downloaded the app, be sure to do it today. You'll be glad you did! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /><br />Dearest Brother Rick, Thanks for the "kick in the gut" that felt more like a funny reminder that He goes before me... ALWAYS... every day, he already knows what it holds. Loved the message and love you and your crew! Miss you guys and hope to catch you on your next trip to the country!</span><br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-14218479578657795172012-05-16T20:56:00.001-07:002012-05-16T20:58:51.429-07:00Encourage<span style="font-size: large;">This morning was busy... just like every other morning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Madeline went to school early for choir and I dropped Gavin off as usual. Wednesdays are my <a href="http://www.calvaryonline.cc/page.asp?SID=1&Page=76" target="_blank">bible study</a> days so I usually try to have everything together for myself when I drop him off at school. Gavin gets dropped off at 9 a.m. and bible study doesn't </span><span style="font-size: large;">start </span><span style="font-size: large;">until 10 a.m. so I had an hour to kill. I seriously debated on coming home and just doing nothing for a while but instead decided to run to JoAnn's Fabric and Crafts to get the rest of the fabric for a project Madeline wants to do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wandered around the store, talking on the phone... remembering how much my dad hates when people try to talk to sales clerks while on their phone. Dad would not be proud of my behavior at JoAnn's but just like a defiant teenager, I continued on... </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Finally, I had everything I needed and made my way to the checkout line. I had exactly 20 minutes to check out and get to church. Despite there being two ladies checking people out, it seemed to be taking FOREVER but why would I expect anything different. That's how it goes. You're in a hurry... the clerk is NOT! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">While I was <strike>impatiently</strike> patiently awaiting my turn, out of the corner of my eye I caught a young girl walking my way. I didn't turn around but I could clearly hear her speaking to the lady waiting behind me, </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Excuse me, Ma'am. I am selling bookmarks for 50 cents. Would you like to buy one?" </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;">She had such a sweet voice and was so incredibly polite but despite her sweet and respectful nature, the lady did <b><i>exactly what I would normally do</i></b>; she told her no. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">At the moment that she said no, I could still see the little girl out of the corner of my eye. her eyes fell to the floor... her shoulders dropped and she took a step back... defeated. I remembered feeling that way myself. I remember trying something and failing. I remembered reaching out to someone and being rejected. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I remembered all of those moments in my life that I have physically feel all of my courage pouring out of my body in an instant. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I wish I could say that my instant thought was to reach out but it wasn't. "She will have to get used to hearing no" is what I thought. That's what I heard <i>my voice </i>saying. The truth is my heart is not nearly as big as I wish it were... Nope, not on its own. It isn't warm and caring... not on its own. It isn't generous and patient... not on its own. Yet, in the moment that the cold and uncaring thought was completed in my mind, I heard another voice saying "Check your wallet for 50 cents." As I was reaching for my purse and digging in my change wallet... that is usually empty because I keep my change in the car for trips through the drive-thru, I prayed "Oh Lord, let there be 50 cents in my purse." I was filled with sweet anticipation at the thought that I could reach out to this precious defeated discouraged little girl. Of course, there was 50 cents in my wallet <i>today</i>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I turned around, despite the fact that my turn at the register had come. I walked right past the lady behind me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Excuse me, young lady. Did I hear you say that you are selling bookmarks?" I asked.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Her eyes lit up and twinkled like stars in the sky. "Yes, I am!" she replied in almost disbelief.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Could you tell me how much they are?" I asked as I bent down and looked into her now happy face. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"They are 50 cents" she replied with a new confidence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">"Well, I have 50 cents and my daughter was just saying that she needed a bookmark. Could I buy one of them?" </span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-size: large;">As her mother and I checked out on separate registers the young girl told me of her love for books. She especially loves the <a href="http://www.christianbook.com/cul-sac-kids-series-volumes-1/beverly-lewis/pd/2266" target="_blank">Cul-de-Sac Kids</a> series but enjoys about any mystery. She proudly told me that she's a big book worm and that reading was one of her favorite things to do. She thanked me more than once. My new friend is an amazing, smart and beautiful young lady. I thoroughly enjoyed the short chat we had. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Tonight I shared this story with Chris and the kids and what this very brief experience taught me. We are so powerful. We really are. We have the power to rip every bit of courage out of someone. We can cause their eyes to fall to the ground, their shoulders to slump, them to walk backwards and literally retreat and not talk to anyone else....</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We can literally place COURAGE inside of them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">The word encourage means "to put courage inside" of something. Every single day we all have this amazing power... dare I even call it a superpower! We can lift up someone's chin, straighten their stance and FILL them WITH courage. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I'd have missed this whole thing if it hadn't been for the Holy Spirit telling me to check my purse for 50 cents. That's definitely not what I would normally have done... afterall, I was in a hurry... I wonder how many opportunities I've missed because I was in a hurry.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So, let us be reminded that we have a superpower but if we don't slow down and take time to really listen to and obey the Spirit, we might totally miss the opportunities to use it!</span><br />
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<span class="text 1Thess-5-11" id="en-ESV-29616"><span style="font-size: large;">Therefore encourage one another and build one another up, just as you are doing. 1 Thessalonians 5:11</span></span></blockquote>
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</blockquote>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-66608947502817605822012-05-10T12:58:00.000-07:002012-05-10T12:58:22.606-07:00Pretty<span style="font-size: large;">Yesterday morning Gavin was searching for pictures of an Egyptian Plover. For those of you who are now thinking, "a what?" it is a beautiful little bird that lives in Africa. It's the sole member of its genus... but now I've digressed back into a science teacher. Here's a photo of the cute little thing:</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYg3x7y3tfc6NGWq1p2j0ph4hlvtP6sbtp5A-F7OPLiIjiIf-N9Ua-ANYaCabKrYx15KT1sjra63GIeEh_2nF2U8pfqxXhiv-CT1Ye9z3OLSDxWHOHa5x6fZbYkEK9F8UJmZJPHx8k5-z8/s1600/Flickr_-_Rainbirder_-_Egyptian_Plover_(Pluvianus_aegyptius).jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="255" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYg3x7y3tfc6NGWq1p2j0ph4hlvtP6sbtp5A-F7OPLiIjiIf-N9Ua-ANYaCabKrYx15KT1sjra63GIeEh_2nF2U8pfqxXhiv-CT1Ye9z3OLSDxWHOHa5x6fZbYkEK9F8UJmZJPHx8k5-z8/s400/Flickr_-_Rainbirder_-_Egyptian_Plover_(Pluvianus_aegyptius).jpg" width="400" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Photo from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Egyptian_Plover</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Isn't it so cute!? Anyway, Gavin was talking all about this little girl who had done her bird research on the Egyptian Plover when I realized... </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">He was talking about a GIRL! </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">His voice was just a little bit different than usual and he kept saying her name... over.and.over! That may not sound all to crazy to some but my kids are not that interested in the opposite sex just yet, which suits me just fine! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Thinking myself sly, I asked "Is she pretty?" </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">In perfect Gavin style, his response made me giggle... and think.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"Yes, sometimes. It depends on what she's wearing. Sometimes she wears glasses and I think she's really pretty when she wears her glasses."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I hid my amusement over how stinkin' cute my kid is with the realization that I need to read a little Proverbs 31 with that boy! How I wish he'd said she was pretty because she was kind to other students or giving to those in need but... alas, he is seven. At least he said her glasses made her pretty, right? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It's moments like these that I realize it's time to focus on a topic with my kids. What makes someone pretty? We've talked about what makes someone a good friend but we don't really talk about "pretty." Yet, I know full well that if I don't help them define what is pretty they'll get the definition somewhere else! Goodness knows that can be downright ugly!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">But what <b>do</b> I consider pretty? Is it my outward appearance? Is it who I am on the inside? Or is it some combination of both? Here are a few descriptions given in Proverbs 31:</span><br />
<br />
<br /><ul>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-10">She is more precious than rubies.</span></span><span class="text Prov-31-11" id="en-NLT-17272"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>Her husband can trust her,</span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-11">and she will greatly enrich his life.</span></span><span class="text Prov-31-12" id="en-NLT-17273"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>She brings him good, not harm,</span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-12">all the days of her life. (v 10-12)</span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text Prov-31-25" id="en-NLT-17286">She is clothed with strength and dignity,</span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-25">and she laughs without fear of the future.</span></span><span class="text Prov-31-26" id="en-NLT-17287"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>When she speaks, her words are wise,</span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-26">and she gives instructions with kindness.</span></span><span class="text Prov-31-27" id="en-NLT-17288"><sup class="versenum"> </sup>She carefully watches everything in her household</span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-27">and suffers nothing from laziness. (v 25-27)</span></span></span></li>
<li><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text Prov-31-30" id="en-NLT-17291">Charm is deceptive, and beauty does not last;</span><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Prov-31-30">but a woman who fears the <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> will be greatly praised. (v 30)</span></span></span></li>
</ul>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-30"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-30">How do you define pretty? Honestly, sometimes I get stuck in my physical appearance and think that I have to have everything in place before I leave the house. Seriously, I love my lipstick and big hair! Don't even get me started on the "necessity" of heels... but sometimes my hair gets all flat... What If I had to shave it? Would I still be pretty? And my lips... no matter what lipstick I use they pale in comparison to Angelina's.... Am I still pretty? And as much as I hate to admit it, some days my feet hurt in my heels and I have to wear flats... Oh the tragedy of it all!</span></span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-30">Every single </span></span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-30">physical </span></span><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-30">thing that we <i>think</i> makes us pretty can be lost but trust, strength, dignity, the ability to laugh, wise words, kindness, good work ethic and a love of the Lord... these will not fade. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-30"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-30">I often talk to Madeline about what makes her pretty, careful to point out all her wonderful traits but I don't talk to Gavin about the topic much. Clearly, it's something I need to do and something I WILL do! I also need to model it too. Do they see these things in my life? Because what they see in me is even more important than what they hear from me.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-30"><br /></span></span></span><br />
<span class="indent-1"><span class="text Prov-31-30"><span style="font-size: large;">How do you teach your children what pretty is? Do you teach them at all? Remember, if you don't someone else definitely will!</span></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-64711394178127499372012-05-04T08:01:00.001-07:002012-05-04T08:01:56.469-07:00The "Kiss-Fist Bump"<span style="font-size: large;">The worst thing in the whole world has happened...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Seriously, it happened so quickly that I didn't even see it coming.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Gavin will no longer kiss me when I drop him off at school!!!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Now, I realize it could be worse... he still wants me around. In fact, he even requested that I come up for lunch today... even though that was way more for the Happy Meal he asked me to bring than because he wanted my company, it's still something! Right? </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As he got out of the car this morning, I received my very first "kiss-fist bump." He kissed his fist and touched it to mine and said "Now, no one will know that we kissed." It was sweet and sad at the same time. I both long for him to grow into a strong independent man and yearn for the days that he would lay upon my chest and sleep. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It made me think, however, of how we sometimes hide our love for Christ from others. Have you ever been afraid to pray out loud or even tell someone that you prayed for them? Maybe you shy away when you see those "Jesus Freaks" talking or the "Bible Thumpers" getting together. You know they're really nice but you don't want others to see you with them. What about that time you heard your friends making fun of them and you didn't join in but you didn't defend them either. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Maybe it's just me that has found myself in those places but as I have grown in my relationship with Christ I have learned that it is not something I am willing to hide anymore. I will not give God a "kiss-fist bump" hoping that no one will see that I love Him. I want to be bold and unashamed just as Paul urges us to do in 2 Timothy 1:8- </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">"<span class="text 2Tim-1-8" id="en-NLT-29778">So never be ashamed to
tell others about our Lord. And don’t be ashamed of me, either, even
though I’m in prison for him. With the strength God gives you, be ready
to suffer with me for the sake of the Good News."</span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text 2Tim-1-8" id="en-NLT-29778">Now, I know that Gavin's "kiss-fist bump" is not because he's ashamed of me in the same way that Paul is speaking here. It's a normal part of a little boy growing up. Knowing Gavin, it probably won't even last that long... I hope anyway! Regardless, it's a good reminder to me to not hide my love for my Lord but to be bold... to show my love for Him and His people in every way that I can! </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">How are you being bold today or are you still afraid to
be open about your faith? I'm praying that you will look to God for the
boldness that only He can give to share the grace that He has given you!</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text 2Tim-1-8" id="en-NLT-29778"> </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text 2Tim-1-8" id="en-NLT-29778"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text 2Tim-1-8" id="en-NLT-29778">Here are a few nuggets that the Bible gives about boldness:</span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="text 2Tim-1-8" id="en-NLT-29778"><br /></span></span><br />
<h4>
<span style="font-size: large;">Ephesians 6:19</span></h4>
<span style="font-size: large;"> "And for me, that utterance may be given unto me, that I may open my
mouth boldly, to make known the mystery of the gospel. "</span><br />
<br />
<h4>
<span style="font-size: large;">Romans 15:15</span></h4>
<span style="font-size: large;"> "I have written you quite boldly on some points, as if to remind you of
them again, because of the grace God gave" </span><br />
<br />
<h4>
<span style="font-size: large;">2 Corinthians 3:12</span></h4>
<span style="font-size: large;"> "Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold."</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuG0u-uFZ0ygZrrCnBMgHahJNg27nGvJYdVnEu5Zx3yu5DBAMCEbh7iGAPnfLCC4ml2W0LvNY4mVEKpQ7QSpUW2fwZH-EdIt7-KQaHl8v72icsobwnBDqMNrEp8A4yMJHR1FdF4xCC-ocb/s1600/pinkname.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuG0u-uFZ0ygZrrCnBMgHahJNg27nGvJYdVnEu5Zx3yu5DBAMCEbh7iGAPnfLCC4ml2W0LvNY4mVEKpQ7QSpUW2fwZH-EdIt7-KQaHl8v72icsobwnBDqMNrEp8A4yMJHR1FdF4xCC-ocb/s200/pinkname.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-37713505660672031112012-04-29T18:41:00.000-07:002012-04-29T18:51:58.647-07:00Dear Papa<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Dear Papa,</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">You've been gone for four weeks. Some days it seems like it was just yesterday that I could look into your face... Other days it feels like it's been an eternity. Gavin believes that every bird has been sent to us by you. He comes running, "Momma LOOK! I bet Papa sent it!" and I smile great big each time. I do wonder about the beautiful egrets that have camped behind our house for the last month because I've never seen that kind of bird here before. Either way, it always reminds me of you and makes me smile.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizWP9a731IJniSk4hUQfqnOVVhgJ7okbPwa7rotowO9eBc4S21c-PPpDggiiEZt9ZYREcgLMJRongxPt0B1vOqAat7Lx9Olh6jUPi4CRJ43wCwoj4ZkF3pm861b4BLiFyvd32dq-qlK-0Z/s1600/04142012-4small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="414" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizWP9a731IJniSk4hUQfqnOVVhgJ7okbPwa7rotowO9eBc4S21c-PPpDggiiEZt9ZYREcgLMJRongxPt0B1vOqAat7Lx9Olh6jUPi4CRJ43wCwoj4ZkF3pm861b4BLiFyvd32dq-qlK-0Z/s640/04142012-4small.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Many years ago you asked my why anyone would want to believe in God. I know that you wanted me to make sense of all the things that were happening in your life that didn't make sense but I couldn't. All that I could do was tell you who God was to me, how much you'd love Him and how much He already loved you. I'm so glad you got to know Him. I can only imagine the conversations you two are having over the fishing hole about now. Now, I told you not to get mad if He's catching the bigger fish!</span></div>
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I want you to know that I'm not mad... at you or Him. I do miss you though. Some days it hurts so bad that I just don't want to talk to anyone. I just can't speak or even cry. I AM so grateful that He let us know before your time came so that I could be by your side. I'm also glad that it didn't take too long because it was killing me to see you hurt. That last night I prayed for two things: for Jesus to show you how much He loves you and for Him to come quickly for you. He did both! I just wish I could have seen your face when you opened those blue eyes and saw Jesus there!</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9F1w8Q4IO1_0rcIHAxIrfIUa5gD8iw0NsEQz6uuTbyloplXSEuEzhRzCPUo2pTFg5WQp5uScU2knr_QfZn2HfW0vZG5gv6gm30u1lnaBm-n-qlB_XQA5Y7NkclBQengeBiS1kau2vdxuz/s1600/04142012-2small.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9F1w8Q4IO1_0rcIHAxIrfIUa5gD8iw0NsEQz6uuTbyloplXSEuEzhRzCPUo2pTFg5WQp5uScU2knr_QfZn2HfW0vZG5gv6gm30u1lnaBm-n-qlB_XQA5Y7NkclBQengeBiS1kau2vdxuz/s1600/04142012-2small.jpg" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">I don't know how He does it, but I know that you know now... how Jesus is both there with you and here with me. He is... without a doubt. Just like I told you so many years ago, you can count on God. You may not understand everything but He will never leave you and His right hand will hold you. So, don't worry, He's holding me every single day. I love you, Papa, forever.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">"<span class="versetext" id="ps139-7" style="display: inline;">Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6063921507078510540" name="11"></a> from your presence? </span><span class="versetext" id="ps139-8" style="display: inline;"><span class="versenum"></span>
If I go up to the heavens,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6063921507078510540" name="12"></a> you are there; if I make my bed<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6063921507078510540" name="13"></a> in the depths,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6063921507078510540" name="a"></a> you are there. </span><span class="versetext" id="ps139-9" style="display: inline;"><span class="versenum"></span>
If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, </span><span class="versetext" id="ps139-10" style="display: inline;"><span class="versenum"></span>
even there your hand will guide me,<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6063921507078510540" name="14"></a> your right hand<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=6063921507078510540" name="15"></a> will hold me fast." -Psalm 139:7-10</span></span></div>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">You know how you hear about something the very first time and you get all excited? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">You promise yourself that you'll <i>never forget about it... You'll never go back to the way things were...</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and then a few days go by... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and then a few more days... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">and the next thing you know... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">you've forgotten all about that excitement and that commitment... </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">or it is just me that does that? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I confess that I have <i>ALWAYS</i> had issues with commitment. From dating to my major(s) in college to my master's degree that doesn't match my bachelor's degree that doesn't match my current career choice... commitment is not easy for me but it is so totally important! The third and final (I think) thing that I learned in 2011 is that:</span><br />
<br />
<span class="woj" style="font-size: large;"></span><br />
<span class="woj" style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>"What we are committed to will be what makes us."</b> </span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Our pastor, <a href="http://calvarychurch.typepad.com/pastor_terry_sanderson/" target="_blank">Terry Sanderson</a>, said those words a few weeks ago and I've
referred to it several times in the last week. I'm that nerdy girl that
takes notes during the sermon and I'm sooo glad I do because five minutes after I walk out, I can usually only remember bits and pieces of the wisdom that is shared and <span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>that</b></span> little nugget, <i>that I
probably wouldn't have remembered if I hadn't written it down</i>, has given
me new resolve. The third thing I learned in 2011 is to be intentional about the kinds of things I want in my life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I will <span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>choose</i> </span>those things to which I commit myself
very carefully and <span style="font-size: x-large;">I will be fully devoted to them</span>. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-size: large;">Have you really thought about what you're committed to in life? I encourage you to think about this. It's so easy to go with the flow... see what happens... or as one of my beautiful sisters says "fly by the seat of your pants" but even those of us who enjoy being a little less structured need to have some boundaries or we'll find ourselves overcommitted to things that may not add anything to our life or anyone else's life. For that matter, they might just suck the life right out of us! We ARE committed to something in life... whether we realize it or not. </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What are you committed to? Are you a commit-o-phobe like
me? When you think about the person you want to be, what change would
you have to commit to making? </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span><br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-20899900517798337412012-04-23T19:00:00.000-07:002012-04-23T19:11:03.815-07:00Howell of Fame<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Last Wednesday evening I got a call from the kids' school principal.... not exactly what a parent hopes for at any time of the day but it was ESPECIALLY strange because she was calling from her home...<b> hours</b> after school got out. Now I have worked with Mrs. Cindi Crigler on the weekend backpack program, <a href="http://bearnecessities-titus314.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">Bear Necessities</a> but she'd <i>never</i> called me about it... email, yes. Phone call, <b>NEVER</b>. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: large;">On the phone Cindi had a strange excitement in her voice when she asked that I meet her at school the next morning for a staff meeting AND that I bring my kids and husband along with me. She promised that the kids weren't in any trouble but that she <i><b>REALLY </b></i>needed me there. I straight up told her "You're kind of weirding me out a bit Cindi but I'll be there." </span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: large;">It kind of makes me laugh to think about the <a href="http://www.grateful4his.blogspot.com/2011/08/bear-necessities.html" target="_blank">first time I went in to the school to talk to her about starting Bear Necessities</a>. I had never met her before. I had some SERIOUSLY sweaty pits and the only thing shaking more than my hands was my voice. I seriously didn't know if I'd even be able to speak. I was so intimidated to go see "the principal" and yet, I have come to know that she is just the kindest and most compassionate of women and count it a privilege to know her. </span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Anyway, I got off the phone and told Chris that for some reason that Cindi refused to tell me we all needed to go to the staff meeting in the morning. I knew this would make him late to work and with having missed quite a bit of work lately after the <a href="http://www.grateful4his.blogspot.com/2012/04/mitchell-aka-papa-aka-my-dad.html" target="_blank">loss of my dad</a>, I told him that if he couldn't make it I was sure it would be okay and couldn't imagine what the deal was anyway. In usual Chris fashion, he wouldn't miss anything and made arrangements to go in late. Gotta love my guy!</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<br /></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Once we arrived at the school the staff that we saw in the halls were acting just as curious as Cindi had been the night before. I was told that I'd be going into the library but I wasn't allowed in the library yet. The anticipation was killing me but I just couldn't figure out what to expect. Once we were allowed in the library there was a woman from the Francis Howell School District's central office talking about an award that she was there to give to someone... an award that she had received and held as one of the highest honors. Apparently, several people are nominated each year by staff and only a very small number of people are then chosen by a committee. The award is called the <b>Howell of Fame </b>and it's described on the district website as follows:</span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>The
Howell of Fame Award recognizes excellence of character, performance
and service of those who serve the Francis Howell School District as
employees, volunteers and patrons.</b></span></div>
<div style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Following</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> an explanation of the award, Cindi went on to explain how several members of the staff had written letters on behalf of this year's winner and yes, I began to cry for it was I that had been chosen... first by the John Weldon Staff and then by a district committee to be a Howell of Fame Award Winner. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>To have these amazing people whom I think so much of take their time to write recommendations on my behalf for an award that I did not even know existed just straight up humbled me to my core.</b> </span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">You see, John Weldon Elementary does not have your every day teachers. They are truly a cut above the rest. The entire staff is pretty amazing. They go above and beyond in their time and their efforts. They see each child as an individual and embrace that individualism in a world that much more appreciates a One-Size-Fits-All philosophy. My children feel safe and valued by these wonderful people and I am just over the moon that we bought this house... in this neighborhood... in this district and my kids get to go to school there and be educated by these wonderful people! </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">One seriously crazy thing to me is that I am being awarded for something God totally had to talk me into doing... something I <i>KNEW</i> I wasn't equipped to do... something I pleaded with Him to get someone else to do. (Ever heard of a guy named Moses? Yea, like that.) </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Yet..</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">It has been one of the greatest blessings in my life thus far.</span></b></i> </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Each week I have the privilege of seeing God answer prayers in a tangible way. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Every single time I hear someone rattling the donation box on my front porch I am reminded that God provides. </span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Each week I get to talk with<i> at least</i> one volunteer in the community about the goodness of God and how much He loves the kids of our school. </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I already felt blessed just getting to be a part of Bear Necessities... being honored by the staff and the district for doing something that already blesses me in such a tremendous way... well, it's just more than I could have imagined. </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Now I don't want to get all this-is-my-Oscar-speech-and-I'd-like-to-thank-God-and-my-parents-and... but seriously, I cannot claim this on my own. </span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bear Necessities IS NOT me. </span></span></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Bear Necessities is God's idea. Bear Necessities is a community of wonderful people who feel called by God to care for each other, providing for one another's daily necessities. It's a community of people who believe it's important to teach their children to serve others <i>by actually serving <b>with</b> their children</i>. I know it sounds all kinds of corney, idealistic and totally like an answer to a Miss America pageant but I honestly believe that raising our children in a community that behaves this way can change the future. If we, at John Weldon, teach even 100 kids to live a life of service, sacrifice and obedience... and they teach their kids... and they teach their kids... Can you even imagine what the future could hold? </span></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I had a dream... (yes, I'm getting seriously cheesy now) but my dream was never to win awards. My dream was simply to teach my own children how to honor God and serve others. Bear Necessities has given me an opportunity to do that. It has given me an opportunity to be a light in the world. It has given this community the opportunity to do the same. I am so grateful and honored to be called a Howell of Fame winner. It is not just the icing on the cake but the sprinkles too!</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you, John Weldon Staff, for honoring me. I'm BEYOND grateful! </span></span><b><span style="font-family: arial;"> </span></b></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-24649333003415869602012-04-09T15:46:00.000-07:002012-04-09T15:46:07.590-07:00Five Minutes<span style="font-size: large;">This morning I got a phone call from a friend who was venting about a situation in her life. Her mom had really hurt her feelings and this was far from the first time. As an outsider, I agree that her mom was totally wrong and insensitive.... and is quite often. My dear friend had <i>every</i> right to be mad at her mom. In fact, she was so frazzled she was ready to sever ties with her mom completely. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I listened to all the reasons that she did not NEED her mom and how she DESERVED to be treated better... to how infuriating it is to try to please someone who is impossible to please... how frustrating it is to walk on eggshells every time you are around a person... and every thing she said was true. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">If I had to guess, I'd guess that most of us know a person like that. I know I do... I certainly hope I'm not one of them! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">After a few minutes of sharing, my friend asked what I thought about her severing ties with her mom. I began by confirming to her that boundaries are good... that she did deserve to be treated better and that what she was experiencing IS frustrating. Then I reminded her of some things that are happening in her mom's life that are VERY challenging for her mom. I reminded her of how difficult her mom's entire life had been and that we're not all given the same set of emotional skills.... and then, Finally, I got personal... something I usually try not to do when someone's asked for my advice... Normally, I TRY to be objective...but I just couldn't today.... I told her that one day... hopefully VERY FAR in the future... when she walks where I have walked this last week... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> staring into my dad's eyes, trying desperately to memorize every tiny speck...</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> watching him sleep and counting his freckles... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> holding his hand...</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> burying my face in his chest as heaving sobs overcame my body...</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> asking him where every scar came from so that I wouldn't forget... </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> hearing him ask my husband to take care of me and knowing it was over...</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> hearing awful things like "everything is in vain" or "Do not resuscitate"...</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> hearing his voice for the last time telling me he loved me...</span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> lying in his arms, with a room full of broken and defeated people and... </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">...hearing his last breath. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I promised my friend that no matter how much right she has to be mad at her mom and maybe even reasons to establish some healthy boundaries... I promised that when that week comes for her, she would give up ANYTHING... for just five more minutes!</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">She didn't tell me what she planned to do but she did thank me for a new perspective. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">As we spoke I was reminded of some of Jesus' last words as He hung on the cross, "Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing." </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Jesus knew the cost of being separated from one He loved and He couldn't stand it, so He forgave. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">If we're honest, He's forgiven each of us for things much greater than what it would take for us to cut someone out of our life.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">There are so many reasons to forgive... SO MANY REASONS... There are COUNTLESS books on why to forgive, how to forgive, the psychological freedom of forgiveness and while I'm not one to live under the shadow of fear, I'd recommend the simple act of remembering just how short life is... how quickly one can be taken... how GONE they<i> </i>really <i>feel</i> once you can't touch them or hear them. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Whomever... whatever... live as if it's your last time with that person and forgive them... whether they want it or not... Because you never know which time will actually be the last time. </span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-20724580515428099632012-04-06T10:27:00.001-07:002012-04-06T12:20:33.804-07:00Mitchell aka... Papa aka... my dad<span style="font-size: large;">All week I have struggled with what to write about the passing of my biological father, Elton Mitchell McCullough. There are endless things I can say about the man that he was... how he loved every single living thing and studied God's creation in awe of everything he saw. There is much to say about the relationship that we shared... the wonderful opportunities he gave me to share about Christ, asking me the hard questions that he had not had answered. There are so many who could share how his unconditional love allowed them a distinct u-turn in life that led them down a better path. From time to time, I would like to talk about my dad but what I most want to share today is about the benefit of knowing Christ personally. </span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I was searching through my old emails looking for ones from Papa, aka: my dad. I came across the following paragraph that was typed almost two years ago when my stepmom was battling cancer. At the time I wrote it we had learned, after a crazy-roller-coaster-of-a-few-weeks, that she was cancer free. We were happy... excited... singing God's praises for her healing. What I want you to know is that today I cannot sing of Papa's earthly healing or the miracles God granted us. I cannot raise my hands in praise for more time with him. I cannot say that "happy" or "excited" are words that would accurately describe the condition of my heart but I can say that, in spite of that fact... in spite of the fact that God chose to heal my dad by taking him home to Heaven, I <span style="font-size: x-large;">STILL </span>believe everything this says with every fiber of my being:</span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">Recently, something in Matthew was pointed out to me that I had not previously noticed but is now profound to me. In Matthew 14:28 Peter and the other
disciples were in the boat when Peter said "Lord, if it's you, tell me
to come to you on the water." and Jesus said "Come." As you all know,
Peter then got out of the boat and miraculously walked on the water. As
you also likely know, Peter got distracted by the wind and began to
sink. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">Here's where it gets profound to
me. At the end of verse 30 we learn that Peter cried out "Lord, save
me!" We are told in verse 31 that "<span style="font-style: italic;">Immediately</span>
Jesus reached out his hand and caught him." If it was by Jesus' power
that Peter walked on the water then it was Jesus that allowed Peter to
begin sinking. Surely, Jesus had the ability to keep Peter on the
surface of that water but He saw that something beneficial could happen
if Peter sank. Peter saw that <span style="font-size: x-large;">he NEEDED Jesus</span>, that he could do nothing
on his own and that it was Jesus that had the power. Peter also
learned that when he cried out for his Lord to save him, <span style="font-size: x-large;">IMMEDIATELY </span>he
would be saved. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">It is much easier to look back upon this instance with
Peter and <span style="font-size: x-large;">KNOW </span>that Christ allowed him to sink because there was a
benefit that outweighed the struggle. The reality remains, however,
that we all encounter struggles, pain, and even death. The
bigger reality of it is that no matter what is happening now... in our
experiences... in our lifetimes, God is lovingly making decisions with
<i>yesterday, today and forever </i>in mind. In John 11:35 we are told that
upon seeing the grief of his friends after losing Lazarus, Jesus wept.
Just moments before he <span style="font-size: x-large;">KNEW</span> he would raise Lazarus from the dead, Jesus
wept. We do not ever walk alone and when we grieve, God grieves with
us. Any moment of pain we experience, any depth we sink to is known by
eyes that see all things, by a God who is eternal and eternally loving,
a God who loves us more than he loves himself. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Why my dad's time was marked so early, I will never know. I will grieve it every day for the remainder of my life. I do not write this "God is so loving" message from some Polly-Anna-I've-never-experienced-pain-and-God-gave-me-what-I-wanted place. No. I did not get my way. I did not. I want my dad to be here with me! Yet, I <b><i>trust</i></b> and I know that God is good and God loves because He has shown it time and again but mostly because of what we celebrate this weekend. God gave his one and only son... to an excruciating death on the cross... because I sin and <span style="font-size: x-large;">I NEED SAVING</span> from an obligation I cannot meet. Jesus died for me and for my dad... and for you, so that we can walk with God and know Him. God allowed that awful thing, not because it gave Him pleasure but because it was what was best for us... because He loves us. I need nothing else from God to know that He loves me but the awesome thing is, He didn't stop there. He also raised Jesus from the dead so that we could have a hope of eternity and victory over death. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-size: large;">On this earth, my Papa has died but because he accepted Christ <i><span style="font-size: x-large;">he lives eternally in Heaven</span> </i>and I look forward to the party we'll have when we all get to Heaven. </span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-54140177723884472642012-03-19T06:59:00.001-07:002012-03-20T04:57:41.808-07:00Things I learned... #2<span style="font-size: large;">My last <a href="http://grateful4his.blogspot.com/2012/03/things-i-learned.html" target="_blank">post</a> talked about how I learned some key things in 2011 that, despite being a painful year, I would not trade the wisdom for anything!<b> </b> I have to admit that the circumstances of 2012 are not shaping up to be any easier than 2011 but, somehow, I still feel stronger... even when I'm melting in Chris' arms crying my eyes out. You see, this year we have learned that one of my dads is very sick. As you might have read in <a href="http://grateful4his.blogspot.com/2011/06/fathers-day.html" target="_blank">this post</a>, I have two dads. Emotionally it is like having kids in that you love them both desperately... They each have this unique role that they play in your life that no one else on earth could ever fill. They're both totally different and yet you need them both equally. My biological father has been diagnosed with being in the end stages of liver failure. He has been in the hospital twice in the last three weeks. While many prayers have already been answered during this time, SOOOO MANY MORE are still needed. Without a new liver, they say he cannot make it... and yet he is not on a donor list at this moment and his doctor won't do living donor transplants. The only way that I can explain how I feel when I hear this is to say that I feel like my heart is broken beyond repair... that it will never heal. I keep telling Chris that I think my heart will be broken forever and not in some silly dramatic way but in a very real <span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>it.will.LITERALLY.be.broken.FOREVER.way. </i><span style="font-size: large;">I cannot imagine its healing.</span> </span></span> <br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">It took me several days to cry... actually it took his second hospitalization. It was that night that i just had a full on pitty party, BAWLED my eyes out and told God how unfair I thought this was... I want my Dad! I want to walk on the beach with him... I want to watch him read to Gavin like he did Madeline... I want to see him chase my kids up and down the beach again... He hasn't gotten to teach Gavin how to fish... I want more time. I didn't get enough time. <b>I WANT MY DAD! </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">The irony is thick... you see, the next key thing I learned in 2011 that I planned to share is that...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Sometimes abiding is HARD!</b> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">At our Wednesday morning bible
study we've been talking all year about what it means to abide in
Christ. It comes from John 15:7 when Jesus said,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">"</span><span class="woj" style="font-size: large;">If
you abide in Me, and My words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="woj" style="font-size: large;">and
it will be done for you" </span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="woj" style="font-size: large;">it's talking about how we need to be constantly connected to Christ through a real relationship as we walk
through life. We need to read the Bible... We need to pray about everything... We need to BE STILL AND LISTEN. In 2011 it was more difficult to abide than
ever before in my life. There were days that the most I could pray was
"Lord, help" or even an honest "I know you love me, Lord, but I don't
feel it today." In a real and painful way I have stood emotionally
naked... broken... feeling hopeless and alone...reminding myself of
truth even when it didn't <i>feel</i> true. Some days abiding is simply
surviving and trusting that there will be an end to the circumstances
that overwhelm you and on those days... also trusting that God is not surprised that you have nothing else to give.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="woj" style="font-size: large;">That little bit in that previous paragraph I typed a few weeks ago, before we knew that dad was so sick and I planned to post it last week... to be a little more regular with this blog but you see... sometimes abiding is hard... and last week, after Dad was readmitted... it was hard. I can honestly say, however, that it was hard in a different way than last year. It's really as if all the things that really stunk last year prepared me for this REALLY SUPER-SUCKY thing. </span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span class="woj">Aside from losing my grandma last year, nothing I lost in 2011 could compare to the potential losses of 2012. </span><br />
<br /><br />
</span><span class="woj" style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-size: large;">NOTHING... NOTHING...<i>NOTHING</i></span>. </span><br />
<br />
<span class="woj" style="font-size: medium;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="woj" style="font-size: large;">Yet, I <i>CAN</i> pray and am... constantly. I <i>CAN</i> see God working and am experiencing joy unlike ever before at prayers that have been prayed for decades that were answered just this week... It took DE-CADES to see that fruit but it's here and it's good! My heart is as broken as it has ever been and yet, <i>I KNOW MORE THAN EVER BEFORE</i> that the God who answers prayers is near to me. </span><span style="font-size: large;">Psalm 34:18 says that "The LORD is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit." I feel this in a very real way today. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So, if you're in the middle of some really stinky stuff... or maybe some REALLY SUPER-SUCKY stuff... ABIDE... PRAY... PRAISE... CLING... TO THE ONE WHO NEVER LEAVES YOU... even when you don't feel Him... <i>especially</i> when you don't feel Him. For He is there and He will carry you through it. </span><br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-20729720259851225662012-03-08T05:46:00.000-08:002012-03-08T05:47:28.272-08:00Things I learned...<span style="font-size: large;">I have to confess... the last year has not been my favorite. I have felt, at times, that life's been terribly overwhelming and at other times that there's just a dense fog hanging over my emotions. Ironically, at the end of 2010 I set a goal for myself to forgive those who hurt me,<i> even those who never apologize</i>. Yes, those were my written words and I never would have dreamed how much opportunity 2011 would give me to practice that goal! Now I'd never go into all that happened or the many words that were spoken that crushed me, caused me to doubt myself and temporarily crippled me sending me into that dense fog but I've learned some really key things in the midst of the fog... things I wouldn't trade for more sunny days. The following is a highlight of the first of those things that I learned...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>Who I am is defined in Christ <span style="font-size: x-large;">ALONE</span> and not what others think of me... even me.</b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Don't get me wrong, I really do care what others think of me and have difficulty believing those people who give the notion that they are not the least bit effected by what people think of them. In our core, there are some people whose opinions matter. They just do. Yet, those people are just that, people... flawed, selfish, sinful human people...<i> just like me</i> and sometimes their opinions need to not matter because if their opinion is in sharp contrast to what Christ says of me then <i>I cannot listen more to them than I do <b>Him</b></i>. I know this in my head but sometimes, I have difficulty separating it in my heart but I'm getting better. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Have you ever struggled with what someone else thinks of you? Has anyone ever said something about you that made you doubt everything you thought about yourself? Maybe it was a parent, a boss, or a friend... it can even be someone you don't like and it will still slice right through you, doesn't it? Worst of all, sometimes it just us. What we think of ourselves can be most discouraging of all. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">What carried me through 2011 and what I encourage you to do is to remember what Christ thinks of us... It is <i>what He thinks that really matters</i> because He knows us better than we know ourselves and</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-size: large;">He thinks we're to die for! </span></b></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">He says that we are His friend... that we are free... that we are His delight and the apple of His eye. Here are just a few more examples of what the bible says about you and me:</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-size: large;">I am a <i>child of God</i>- John 1:12</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am <i>Christ's friend</i>- John 15:15</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am <i>chosen and appointed by Christ to bear His fruit</i>- John 15:16</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am a <i>personal witness of Christ for Christ</i>- Acts 1:8</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have been <i>justified and redeemed</i>- Romans 3:24</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Romans 5:1 I- have been <i>justified (completely forgiven and made righteous) and am at peace with God</i>- Romans 5:11</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I have been <i>freed from sin's power over me</i>- Romans 6:7</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am <i>holy</i>- Romans 11:16 </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I am <i>a new creation</i>- 2 Corinthians 5:17</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>Christ has accepted me</i>- Romans 15:7 </span></blockquote>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">This is not an all-inclusive list. These are just a few of the descriptions that Christ gives to those who love Him but how much sweeter is it to hear these things about us than some of the other things we hear. Today I am going to spend a little time thinking about what Jesus thinks of me and I encourage you to take a few minutes to think about it for yourself. </span><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFCGuaGlPzK3dJybyDlKE5mDqsn7Ke8flhRUBjCz-fAXswyd3V-v0XceNSTBHseVlTgoSXqeih4YdNmk5UYSvq2uUZdy3U59eej-FHBoExXP8NvYtewth6f7FZvb5QII0-xl5tgnY5xia/s1600/bluename.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFCGuaGlPzK3dJybyDlKE5mDqsn7Ke8flhRUBjCz-fAXswyd3V-v0XceNSTBHseVlTgoSXqeih4YdNmk5UYSvq2uUZdy3U59eej-FHBoExXP8NvYtewth6f7FZvb5QII0-xl5tgnY5xia/s200/bluename.gif" width="200" /></a></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-87876388799069987302012-03-05T11:44:00.001-08:002012-03-05T11:44:34.408-08:00Good People... Good Food!<span style="font-size: large;">Friday night I went to a trivia night to show support for fellow St. Louis photographer, <a href="http://www.laceimages.com/" target="_blank">Gina Kelley</a> who is battling for her life against cancer. Gina wasn't able to join us... she's way too busy kicking cancer's bootie but we celebrated her! The girl has a heart for Jesus and for serving and it shows in the most amazing way. The list of charities that she has donated time to is long and inspiring and that's just the official stuff. I love that the majority of her preaching is not done with words but with her actions. She is a great example of John 13:35, "By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another."</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Now, I had the privilege of sharing a table with seven other fabulous ladies: <a href="http://www.kellymannophotography.com/" target="_blank">Kelly Manno</a>, <a href="http://www.undergracephoto.com/" target="_blank">Michelle Ross</a>, <a href="http://www.donnaharrisphotography.com/" target="_blank">Donna Harris</a>, Jennifer Peterson, <a href="http://www.metropictureco.com/" target="_blank">Sherry Rosenberger</a>, <a href="http://www.sjmackyphotography.com/" target="_blank">Sarah McDermott</a> and <a href="http://www.kshdesignsonline.com/" target="_blank">Kate Hargis</a>. We had a lot of fun, despite Michelle and Sarah bailing on us early... :) and come to think of it, maybe we should blame them for our OH-SO-BAD trivia score. yea, right! Alas, all of the important things were there: heart for a worthy cause, feeling way more stupid than we thought we were and the ability to laugh about it, awesome people and A-MAZ-ING food... which everyone knows is one of the most important aspects of a trivia night! </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So, for all of you that were not able to be at our table,
(and for those that were at the table and are wishing they had some to
nibble on right now) I wanted to share an awesome recipe that I
discovered on Pinterest and made for Friday night. We devoured <i>TWO
BOWLS</i> of it! I think our fatigue at the end of the night was more about
a sugar coma than the late hour. :) We ate it with chocolate graham
crackers and they were soooo delicious! Bon Appetit!</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<div class="fn b-b h-1 strong" id="zlrecipe-title" style="color: #741b47;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>Cookie Dough Dip Recipe</b></span></div>
<span style="color: #741b47; font-size: large;">
</span><div class="zlmeta zlclear" style="color: #741b47;">
<div class="fl-l width-50">
<div id="zlrecipe-prep-time">
<span style="font-size: large;">Prep Time: <span class="preptime">10 minutes<span class="value-title" title="PT10M"></span></span></span></div>
<div id="zlrecipe-total-time">
<span style="font-size: large;">Total Time: <span class="duration">10 minutes<span class="value-title" title="PT10M"></span></span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="fl-l width-50">
<div id="zlrecipe-yield">
<span style="font-size: large;">Yield: <span class="yield">12</span></span></div>
</div>
<div class="zlclear">
</div>
</div>
<div class="img-desc-wrap" style="color: #741b47;">
<div id="zlrecipe-summary">
<div class="summary italic">
<span style="font-size: large;">The most delicious recipe for cookie dough dip you've ever tasted.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
<div class="h-4 strong" id="zlrecipe-ingredients" style="color: #741b47;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Ingredients</span></div>
<ul id="zlrecipe-ingredients-list" style="color: #741b47;">
<li class="ingredient" id="zlrecipe-ingredient-0"><span style="font-size: large;"> 1 8-ounce package cream cheese
</span></li>
<li class="ingredient" id="zlrecipe-ingredient-1"><span style="font-size: large;"> 1/2 cup butter
</span></li>
<li class="ingredient" id="zlrecipe-ingredient-2"><span style="font-size: large;"> 1 cup powdered sugar
</span></li>
<li class="ingredient" id="zlrecipe-ingredient-3"><span style="font-size: large;"> 2 tablespoons brown sugar
</span></li>
<li class="ingredient" id="zlrecipe-ingredient-4"><span style="font-size: large;"> 1 1/2 teaspoons vanilla
</span></li>
<li class="ingredient" id="zlrecipe-ingredient-5"><span style="font-size: large;"> 1 cup chocolate chips
</span></li>
<li class="ingredient" id="zlrecipe-ingredient-6"><span style="font-size: large;"> 1 cup toffee bits
</span></li>
</ul>
<div class="h-4 strong" id="zlrecipe-instructions" style="color: #741b47;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Instructions</span></div>
<ol class="instructions" id="zlrecipe-instructions-list" style="color: #741b47;">
<li class="instruction" id="zlrecipe-instruction-0"><span style="font-size: large;"> Cream together cream cheese and butter.
</span></li>
<li class="instruction" id="zlrecipe-instruction-1"><span style="font-size: large;"> Add all remaining ingredients and mix until well-combined.
</span></li>
<li class="instruction" id="zlrecipe-instruction-2"><span style="font-size: large;"> Serve with graham crackers or apple wedges.
</span></li>
</ol>
<div class="h-4 strong" id="zlrecipe-notes" style="color: #741b47;">
<span style="font-size: large;">Notes</span></div>
<div id="zlrecipe-notes-list" style="color: #741b47;">
<div class="notes">
<span style="font-size: large;">Do NOT use reduced fat cream cheese as it may cause your dip to have the wrong consistency. </span></div>
<div class="notes">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFCGuaGlPzK3dJybyDlKE5mDqsn7Ke8flhRUBjCz-fAXswyd3V-v0XceNSTBHseVlTgoSXqeih4YdNmk5UYSvq2uUZdy3U59eej-FHBoExXP8NvYtewth6f7FZvb5QII0-xl5tgnY5xia/s1600/bluename.gif" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="100" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFFCGuaGlPzK3dJybyDlKE5mDqsn7Ke8flhRUBjCz-fAXswyd3V-v0XceNSTBHseVlTgoSXqeih4YdNmk5UYSvq2uUZdy3U59eej-FHBoExXP8NvYtewth6f7FZvb5QII0-xl5tgnY5xia/s200/bluename.gif" width="200" /></a></div>
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</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-90177590970734389082012-03-01T13:49:00.001-08:002012-03-01T19:11:02.868-08:0040-Day Journey<span style="font-size: large;">Clearly, I have struggled with how to begin a photography blog.
I've been "planning" to do it for over two years and haven't. There are
countless reasons that have kept me from writing here but it's mostly
been a fear that no one would care... that no one would read it
anyway.... that I wouldn't be "good enough." There are SO many amazing photographers and SO many amazing bloggers and the thought of putting myself out there... REALLY putting myself out there REALLY freaked me out! </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Alas,
today I am beginning a <a href="http://www.choosecommitprosper.com/" target="_blank">40 day journey</a> prompted by one of a hundred
Facebook posts I see in a day. The words that caught my eye were
"40-Day Prayer Journey to Seek God's Will For Your Photo Business."
Finally, JUST what I was looking to find. From Day 1 of being in
business I have said that <a href="http://www.dorindapeytonphotography.com/" target="_blank">this business</a> belonged to God for as long as
it existed but I have not always ran the business that way... partly
because I was the one running the business. In the beginning I was so
excited that I took on too much work... and when I say too much work I
mean so much that I did not have enough time for the relationships in my
life that matter most. My role as a mom suffered. I know that I was
not as patient as my kids needed me to be. I shudder at the number of
times that they found me at the computer and I found it difficult to
leave to play with them... though I did make sure to do that more than I
didn't... I think. My role as a wife suffered. For the record, that's
an enormous understatement. My most prosperous year ended with me in
tears telling my husband that I felt like he was my roommate, that we
had no connection and I couldn't work like that for another year and not
feel like the crappiest wife and mom in the world. (Wow! Would my kids be mad that I just said "crappiest" but it's really the nicest word for how I felt!) My heart was broken
and haggard because I was not looking to God to run my business, my
business was running me!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So, as my first assignment in
my 40-Day Prayer Journey to Seek God's Will For My Photo Business, I'd
like to introduce you to the new CEO of Dorinda Peyton Photography, His name is Jesus. He's totally
the best person for the job. Every ounce of creativity that I've ever
had has come from Him. In fact, He's the author of all good things and
every good and perfect gift I've received have come from Him. I know
that talking about one's religion is all social taboo... especially on a
professional blog but I'm not talking about a religion. I'm talking
about a real live God who is my friend... with whom I have a real
relationship. I talk to Him and He talks to me... if I'll ever shut up long enough to listen. So if it freaks you out to think of me talking about
"God" then, for a moment, think of Him as my dearest friend. You see I
have not lived a perfect life. The mountain of mistakes I've made are
overwhelming and shameful. Those mistakes were so huge that, at times, I
felt myself suffocating and in complete dispair. It was this amazing
Jesus who did not stand before me and show me the image of me that I
believed to be true, that I believed others saw... the harlot, the liar, the murderer, the unworthy, the
unforgivable, the unlovable. No, Jesus picked me up out of the pit of
which I'd have surely died and He loved me. He said I was beautiful.
He said I was His daughter... His delight. He said that I
was the apple of His eye... something I'd never been to anyone else in
my life. He said that not only was I forgivable but that I was
forgiven... redeemed... PURE!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Despite His sweet words I
continued to doubt my worth, knowing what I truly deserved... but
Jesus, he held my hand every day... speaking words of love to my heart,
conforming me to be more like Him and blessing me beyond my wildest
dreams! I'm not wealthy. I don't know if I'd even want to be. I'm
not famous but I'm fairly certain that I want no part of that at all anyway! I
am, however, a wife to a wonderful man who adores me, who cherishes our marriage as the sacred thing that it is. I am a mother to
children who teach me and point me to Christ every-single-day, honoring me with the privilege of being the one who teaches them how to love Jesus. I am a
friend of the One who gave His life for mine and that is more than I
could ever need. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">I'm excited to give my business back to
Jesus. Everything in my life is His anyway. I don't know what this journey will mean for it but I know that apart from Him, I can do nothing anyway but with my faith in Him, I can move mountains!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">So,
if you're actually still reading... Thank you! I have no idea what God
is going to do on this 40 day journey but I'm excited to be on it and ready to enjoy the ride!</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">God Bless,</span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-66831072173910271102011-12-31T14:04:00.000-08:002011-12-31T14:04:04.282-08:00My heart's burstin!<span style="font-size: large;">I love this next set of pictures enough that it needed it's own blog post. Very often Chris and I will awake to giggling. I happen to believe that it is one of the greatest rewards as a parent. On this particular morning we found the kids lying on Madeline's bed while she read to Gavin. I pleaded with Chris to not disturb them until I could capture a picture of them together. You can definitely see when I got caught!</span><br />
<br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LCCdBdGE5sw/Tv-GbRcFKmI/AAAAAAAACQc/apAcGhNvnWI/s1600/DEC+blog-FB.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-LCCdBdGE5sw/Tv-GbRcFKmI/AAAAAAAACQc/apAcGhNvnWI/s1600/DEC+blog-FB.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">There is no word to describe the love within my heart!</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-70261238937552886662011-12-31T13:15:00.000-08:002011-12-31T14:00:02.742-08:00The wirlwind also known as December...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--9q6uazYRdY/Tv99K1Uu6xI/AAAAAAAACO8/gYNFkArwdQA/s1600/IMG_0871bw.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/--9q6uazYRdY/Tv99K1Uu6xI/AAAAAAAACO8/gYNFkArwdQA/s640/IMG_0871bw.jpg" width="426" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">So, December flew by and January starts tomorrow. I am so excited for 2012 but before I get into all that, I didn't get to put all of our family traditions on the blog and wanted to share a few. The first few are activities from our Advent Calendar that I talked about <a href="http://www.grateful4his.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-crafted.html" target="_blank">here</a>. We had a lot of fun with an activity every day. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Here the kids are reading a story about the meaning of Christmas. Gavin chose a traditional Christmas story and then also chose "The Tale of the Three Trees" which is one of my absolute favorite stories about Jesus. Madeline read about Jesus in Luke 2.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">We also had "Fancy Family Dinner" where we all had to dress up. Madeline and I wore dresses and the boys wore ties. I'm not sure we'd have qualified as stylish at all but both kids thought it was really fun. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8XsSbUcnDzY/Tv99OJFKTkI/AAAAAAAACPE/kLk4ybH6xsA/s1600/DEC+blog-FB8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8XsSbUcnDzY/Tv99OJFKTkI/AAAAAAAACPE/kLk4ybH6xsA/s1600/DEC+blog-FB8.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">So proud of their snowflakes</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">We spent a night making paper snowflakes that we used to decorate our patio doors and another night making pine cone garland covered in glitter. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There were also nights of Wii, Christmas Poems, Christmas lights and a host of other fun things. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Glitter projects happen in the basement at our house</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: large;">Madeline was also in the Christmas musical at school as Pink Beard the Pirate. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">It's a Pirate Christmas</td></tr>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-8XsSbUcnDzY/Tv99OJFKTkI/AAAAAAAACPE/kLk4ybH6xsA/s1600/DEC+blog-FB8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-KOvmzWgp8zQ/Tv99m9cj9ZI/AAAAAAAACQE/0oDEU_T7B4Q/s1600/DEC+blog-FB7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-T-KyOKRjaJg/Tv99Yt4gtqI/AAAAAAAACPc/RHLZlciU4-A/s1600/DEC+blog-FB2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jx_B3EZ8_-g/Tv99ewekoOI/AAAAAAAACPs/0HaV10Sw3s4/s1600/DEC+blog-FB4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"> <img border="0" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-Jx_B3EZ8_-g/Tv99ewekoOI/AAAAAAAACPs/0HaV10Sw3s4/s1600/DEC+blog-FB4.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Even Santa and Mrs. Claus were there</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">That sure is a pretty Piratess in the front!</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">She did a fantastic job!</td></tr>
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And we haven't even celebrated Christmas yet! </div>
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<span id="goog_1884580494"></span><span id="goog_1884580495"></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-20095393824343374622011-12-30T09:11:00.000-08:002011-12-30T09:11:13.567-08:00Rejection<span style="font-size: large;">The bitter sting of rejection leaves us stunned and confused. Later,
after we've awakened we contemplate the events leading
up to and following the rejection. the pain and confusion
remain. We were hurt and we forgave. We were betrayed and we forgave. We
were discarded and we forgave... and yet... </span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> REJECTION... </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">ugly, shocking, unprovoked </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">rejection. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Pain and confusion fill our minds and our souls. Conversations and
circumstances are replayed and over analyzed. At best, it seems that
the pain and confusion may dull into a numbness and a counterfeit
contentedness... </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">We can only hope that step after step we will move on... </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> bearing the
invisible scar of rejection... </span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;"> Again. </span></div>
<br /><b><span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></b><br />
<br />
<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><i>We all fall. We all fail.
We all make decisions that, at times, hurt those that we love. Sometimes we are the ones that are hurt. Sometimes
we soar and succeed and other times we find ourselves walking out of the fire blistered,
feeling branded by the pain... happy for our mere survival. </i> </span></b><br />
<br /><br /><span style="font-size: large;">It
is in those moments, after we realize we've made it out of the fire that
we have a decision to make. As we look back over the time in the
furnace... and we should look it over, it is healthy to look back and
review... we can choose anger and bitterness for those who threw us in
or we can choose to see the blessings that carried us through,
the answered prayers, the friends who stepped up and proved true, and </span><span style="font-size: large;">the seemingly coincidental happenings that lifted our chins allowing our eyes to peer at the Heavens to see </span><span style="font-size: large;">the
Savior who already paid for it all and not only <i>never took His eyes off
of us</i> but <i>never saw us as anything but his <b>beloved</b></i>. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;">There is one who
will never reject us. He promised to never leave us... and though I
haven't always been able to feel or hear Him, I<b> know</b> as I look back over
the ashes and charred remains in the furnace... </span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: large;">I KNOW that He was, in fact,<i>
always</i> there. </span></div>
<br />
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-16303099246799778302011-12-09T13:23:00.001-08:002011-12-15T19:54:58.524-08:00The Village People- Tradition #3Seriously, I started this blog post a week ago... literally, a full week ago. Needless to say, it's been a little crazy this week... but on to Tradition #3:<br />
<br />
No, there are no Native Americans, carpenters, cowboys or any other disco-loving men in this tradition but it's still one we love. I remember as a little girl going to friend's houses and some had these tiny houses with people inside. Some of the people were having dinner as a family. Others were singing in a church.<br />
<br />
A few years ago my mother-in-law gifted me with a church.... a small country-looking glass church with people inside singing Christmas carols... or at least that's what I think they're doing! She, Madeline and I went that year and also picked out a house to go with it. The next year we picked out a bakery and the next year we chose Toy Town. Every Christmas we put out the village and all the village people. The kids kneel and stare into the houses as if on that day the people inside would be doing something new.<br />
<br />
Without further delay, welcome to our village...<br />
<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwBMkvcfa3BpnP7Vzh7TZdABa4zQmA7Ed2dfzWeh7XV7uc4MjtYojS_USzghdNusdXEsnoiJE4y0pzG7-liMggSCw6v9VBa-0V6WU9Al_gbkpXHGFsT19KOuMHvY_u87gRV1Pz1oASaIK/s1600/IMG_0493.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSwBMkvcfa3BpnP7Vzh7TZdABa4zQmA7Ed2dfzWeh7XV7uc4MjtYojS_USzghdNusdXEsnoiJE4y0pzG7-liMggSCw6v9VBa-0V6WU9Al_gbkpXHGFsT19KOuMHvY_u87gRV1Pz1oASaIK/s640/IMG_0493.jpg" width="422" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8b5IyaBahmjdtuZQE3S3543E8Qti0nxGwUBsxwnmHW6VCTV7-DXgWK-qPL0G9iSvj_cU7OFAO6e10nnobXLaGwkH8s1KDq6TDUfoIX8NZYyh17pcbf0WVzkQ1qfzEIKZzoY47EBbF5qB/s1600/IMG_0490.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjl8b5IyaBahmjdtuZQE3S3543E8Qti0nxGwUBsxwnmHW6VCTV7-DXgWK-qPL0G9iSvj_cU7OFAO6e10nnobXLaGwkH8s1KDq6TDUfoIX8NZYyh17pcbf0WVzkQ1qfzEIKZzoY47EBbF5qB/s640/IMG_0490.jpg" width="419" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Is it not the perfect little country church?</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy5jd0wCdPbjm6HKSEzs6nb-Ru3BJOARbBeYvPb1ulBNMv4WfDLAqovK-mMm6J6xqOJnpj9y0-Li0nqLOV0cTGZ5FmMi4vwZ9mDXYvnO2WSAfPyrea9AoYmFqT5VVxSX1r0j5_3tCAWAwf/s1600/IMG_0489.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy5jd0wCdPbjm6HKSEzs6nb-Ru3BJOARbBeYvPb1ulBNMv4WfDLAqovK-mMm6J6xqOJnpj9y0-Li0nqLOV0cTGZ5FmMi4vwZ9mDXYvnO2WSAfPyrea9AoYmFqT5VVxSX1r0j5_3tCAWAwf/s640/IMG_0489.jpg" width="426" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our "Home"</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Complete with our mailman and puppy</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCuBdymnRk1oyEbcREVGcx4vpOPcZwLPlZF7y-4s7XCmn7dfcQXGn1L-xFL0qKA69b2HztzVhLTlzt2kBkCKIOaUc8BTxUmaaCbdw7LYBjrqmKJ3BiUXDRuwWncMZhwDwr8hA3Dx01ys8q/s1600/IMG_0485.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCuBdymnRk1oyEbcREVGcx4vpOPcZwLPlZF7y-4s7XCmn7dfcQXGn1L-xFL0qKA69b2HztzVhLTlzt2kBkCKIOaUc8BTxUmaaCbdw7LYBjrqmKJ3BiUXDRuwWncMZhwDwr8hA3Dx01ys8q/s640/IMG_0485.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">We even have a dog walker</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Bakery</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HoCibYvu6E-s-nrWzaOUMte8bTLAyfsO17_Y8l-g1ccRuITo3o4nWmgOBFg_EzUqS2SvcGAhnrheTbUX6oaVr-_Ja6V3qk6I1soYDfnLeAciHP0M-Gb_DGJVkl54FDBGgu7HRAHmtlmX/s1600/IMG_0481.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6HoCibYvu6E-s-nrWzaOUMte8bTLAyfsO17_Y8l-g1ccRuITo3o4nWmgOBFg_EzUqS2SvcGAhnrheTbUX6oaVr-_Ja6V3qk6I1soYDfnLeAciHP0M-Gb_DGJVkl54FDBGgu7HRAHmtlmX/s640/IMG_0481.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is exactly what our real snow men look like</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"> </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">This is everyone's favorite. </td></tr>
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Toy World is a personal favorite because it reminds me of my childhood. My mom used to tell us a story when we were kids about us, in an imaginary world, where we went to a place called "Toy World." While at Toy World we saw and got to play with whatever we wanted. My "Toy World" would look totally different these days but I still think it sounds like a fun place to be!<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6063921507078510540.post-65282619378608025642011-12-09T11:07:00.001-08:002011-12-09T13:08:23.417-08:00Journey to Bethlehem<span style="font-size: large;">I'm totally getting out of order here but if only one family sees this and makes the time to go see <a href="http://www.journeytobethlehem.com/" target="_blank">Journey to Bethlehem</a>, then it's worth getting out of order... besides, no one knows but me anyway. :)</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Last night Chris and I took the kids to what will be a yearly trip to Bethlehem. Oh, how I wish we were really able to go to Israel each year but we got a little taste of it last night! Every year a local church practices, rehearses, sacrifices to put on a free... YES, I SAID FREE... event to remind us of the real reason for Christmas. Well, no one actually told me that that is the reason but it seems pretty obvious. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">When you arrive, you will receive a ticket with your new Jewish name on it. I was Hannah. Madeline was Eve, Chris and Gavin were both John. On the paper was the meaning of your name and your family lineage. We were all of the line of King David. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We were taken to an auditorium where an enactment of Mary and Joseph preparing for their trip to Bethlehem was shown along with some other short but sweet dramas and some Christmas singing. From there we began our journey by meeting Bartholomew, our "family member" and guide for the journey. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSj3toqOtB_vS8_hazU6zRQdeJKo5l07nrjlG7k-KHGBoLEthk0XGWlSWXZd8Lgmrz0ZJaKr32TbsgS1UJEAYhyphenhyphengYBJ5XpierLr-Zt-BHLyb8Rmf5rBo0VVRr8NcmzlaNWpCiRc3hmefXe/s1600/blog+%2528106+of+18%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSj3toqOtB_vS8_hazU6zRQdeJKo5l07nrjlG7k-KHGBoLEthk0XGWlSWXZd8Lgmrz0ZJaKr32TbsgS1UJEAYhyphenhyphengYBJ5XpierLr-Zt-BHLyb8Rmf5rBo0VVRr8NcmzlaNWpCiRc3hmefXe/s640/blog+%2528106+of+18%2529.jpg" width="422" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">Bartholomew led us down the Roman streets where we encountered several cranky Roman soldiers. Now, I say "cranky" because they were fabulously in character. It was so funny to see the kids faces when they heard those stern voices asking for their papers and what their names were. We also encountered several other "Jewish" families who had just left Bethlehem. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Each family was kind to share the warmth of their fire and a little bit of Jewish history with us. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There were some wise men who had journeyed far from their homeland and they told us of the star that they had followed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Everywhere we went... Everyone we met with spoke of their hope in the coming Messiah... No one had much in the way of possessions... well, except the wise men... but they all held on to this same hope that their God would send a savior... If you let yourself, you could literally feel the hope rising inside of you too! </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">While we were speaking with some very common shepherds the most amazing thing happened... from out of no where an angel appeared and told us the messiah had been born. Then there was a host of them singing praises to God. </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">It seems so strange because I've</span><span style="font-size: x-large;"> heard this countless times in my life but for the first time I wept and FELT just a little of how those shepherds must have felt. hope had been fulfilled and who were we to hear it?</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">After hearing the amazing news from the shepherds we ran all the way to Bethlehem where we encountered more cranky Roman soldiers. One little girl, about three years old, showed that she is bold in spirit when she told them "YOU'RE MEAN!" We all laughed but the soldiers didn't break character for a moment. Our papers were stamped and we were able to go into the market at Bethlehem. There were people selling chickens, fish, bread and a host of things. We danced and celebrated before we went to find a place to stay for the night. Even in this Bethlehem, there was no room in any inn. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Finally, the innkeepers told us of a young couple that they had allowed to sleep in their stable... the young woman great with child... and Bartholomew asked the hopeful question "Could that be the Messiah that the angel told us about?" and we were serenaded as we walked into the stable to see our King. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">He was tiny and fragile. His parents looked deeply into his face. While he looked incredibly ordinary... wrapped in a simple blanket, we were reminded that...</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><b> </b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>this baby would grow up to die for each one of us...</b> </span> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;">so that we can have a relationship with God in Heaven. </span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">If you have to move, rearrange, or even skip something else, I absolutely recommend you taking the </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">Journey to Bethlehem. </span></div>
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