tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-74769262216031366442024-03-14T09:13:00.913-07:00This side of 50A collection of pages spanning a lifetimeSandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.comBlogger69125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-38953768845496072432014-08-27T10:29:00.002-07:002014-08-27T10:36:27.515-07:00My BFF<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr13Epu-PftVksYQERngjyRj0rBKyYs6kW2vFaZ0j2LxMvHqemE1huuyxQlEF5EoctxaxapFSunmy5msnQxdLSIhsettmpwOyGnSRjU1jgJs4qa9SvPIQ6fpPRaY1rRs2y8IpGmt9z8OY/s1600/IMAG0556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr13Epu-PftVksYQERngjyRj0rBKyYs6kW2vFaZ0j2LxMvHqemE1huuyxQlEF5EoctxaxapFSunmy5msnQxdLSIhsettmpwOyGnSRjU1jgJs4qa9SvPIQ6fpPRaY1rRs2y8IpGmt9z8OY/s1600/IMAG0556.jpg" height="191" width="320" /></a></div>
The love of my life celebrates 60 years this week.<br />
We've known each other pretty much all our lives...at least it seems that way.<br />
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He's been my rock.<br />
He remains true to our marriage.<br />
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He puts up with all me - all.the.time.<br />
I don't deserve his patience. I can be wicked and yet he will most often ask, "<i>Have you kissed your husband today?"</i><br />
Sixty years and still counting.<br />
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This guy has always been busy and full of energy.<br />
Running, for whatever reason, has been a discipline he's <i>enjoyed</i> since high school. Sprinting in the early years, and now as he's aged, a plodder for the distance.<br />
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Eight marathons in the last eight years with more on the horizon.<br />
That describes his life.<br />
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One distance at a time requires diligence and discipline. Life isn't a sprint - he often says - it's a marathon.<br />
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Hiking is his other passion. The smell of the fresh air, the quiet solitude, the comfort and communion with his Maker.<br />
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Ron introduced me to backpacking in our early years together - poor guy. I think he carried more than he expected. My pack along with his. But, the delight of sharing Boy Scout camp outs with his sons made up for my lack of ambition.<br />
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He's spontaneous.<br />
He's compassionate beyond words.<br />
He's a dad who's worked hard to do it right. And, admits when he's done it wrong.<br />
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He's a man in love with his Savior.<br />
He perseveres, even under the most difficult strain. Maybe not without some angst, but he keeps going and continues to grow from the challenge.<br />
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I love that he loves me - I'm still learning how to receive it knowing I don't deserve it. An example of the One Who loved us first.<br />
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When he proposed he said he was marrying his best friend.<br />
I get it.<br />
BFF'sSandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-19430234332912303312014-04-28T15:50:00.001-07:002014-04-28T16:03:36.873-07:00Laughter is good medicineI'm realizing at this stage of life - after 50 - you gotta have a sense of humor.<br />
Really, you do.<br />
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Today, my daughter and I were texting (yep, I still can learn a few new tricks). She's helping me get invitations together for our son's wedding rehearsal dinner. I told her I still needed to get envelopes and she told me where to find her link to her favorite fonts.<br />
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Following is how the conversation went ~~<br />
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<b>Daughter</b>: "Great! :) You can look at my calligraphy page on Pinterest to find the script you like :)<br />
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<b>Me</b>: :)<br />
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<b>Daughter</b>: Is the pen still in your car?<br />
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<b>Me</b>: Ha ha...could be<br />
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<b>Daughter:</b> Might want to pull it out before the weather changes :)<br />
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<b>Me</b>: I'll check ... totally forgot about it<br />
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<i>(The said 'pen' has been in my car for - say - about 3 weeks)</i></div>
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<b>Daughter</b>: Haha that's ok. It's why I asked.<br />
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<b>Me</b>: You must know your mom...Eek! Got it, it was still in the car :p<br />
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<b>Daughter</b>: Yay! Now, where are you going to put it so I can remind you where it is when you want it? :)<br />
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<b>Me</b>: LOL<br />
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<b>Daughter</b>: :) Love you mom :)<br />
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<span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">A joyful heart is good medicine, </span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px;">but a crushed spirit dries up the bones</span></div>
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<span class="indent" style="background-color: #fdfeff; color: #001320; font-family: Trebuchet, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 21px; margin-left: 35px; text-align: justify;"><i>Psalms 17:24</i></span></div>
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-65003100235376543332014-03-24T13:28:00.000-07:002014-03-24T22:09:50.904-07:00BFF's - Cousins Forever<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfNOrLH21c4khTDDVKJIFKlf67wh2dtIVx1aMaqysF_OpkM4cdAZrElOjr4UJYvigRj-w4Ai_T34hqWrm9khO_J_cUyt9CR5UJbifZAUxgGA9RVqN4OhQPeye7DE6EVZH7Mgnx-DBff7c/s1600/IMG_0852.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfNOrLH21c4khTDDVKJIFKlf67wh2dtIVx1aMaqysF_OpkM4cdAZrElOjr4UJYvigRj-w4Ai_T34hqWrm9khO_J_cUyt9CR5UJbifZAUxgGA9RVqN4OhQPeye7DE6EVZH7Mgnx-DBff7c/s1600/IMG_0852.jpg" height="320" width="236" /></a></div>
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I've heard it said, "<i>Cousins are your first best friends</i>."<br />
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This photo of my little grandkids gives me pause. They're their first cousins in our family. How will they grow up together? Will they be friends?<br />
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I'm optimistic...because...</div>
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....my own cousins are some pretty special people...they were there from the beginning.<br />
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I know I'm blessed. I have City Cousins and I have Country Cousins. The best of two worlds. As we've grown older, our lives have understandably drifted apart because of jobs, our own families and such. But, that cousin bond somehow still holds.<br />
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My City Cousins taught me creativity and music. Music in the old-fashioned country-classic-sort-of-way. It seemed several of us experienced some level of instrument and voice accomplishments. I don't remember a time when our<b> <a href="http://sandisnotebook.com/we-are-called-to-be-a-people-of-memory/" target="_blank">family gatherings</a></b> <i>didn't</i> have music of some sort.<br />
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You would never find us sitting in front of a tv when together. Family time - was - family time.<br />
It would be Easter egg hunts, or Jam sessions, or board games and cards that would keep us occupied for hours. As we grew older our conversations deepened philosophically as we exchanged our ideas and questions in our developing world views.</div>
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My Country Cousins added even more creative elements to my growing years. First of all, it was <i>cool </i>they all lived in Montana and I would pretend that it was "Indian country" - which in many ways it was - and still is.</div>
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Without it being said, I always knew I was a City girl when visiting this side of the family. You just <i>know</i> you're different in a can't-put-my-finger-on-it different. Our world views and how we did things were a constant source of curiosity on my part. I loved these trips.</div>
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Since we didn't see each other but once a year, I learned the fun skill of creative letter writing. We wrote <i>pages</i> of news to each other. And, not just pages, it was <i>how</i> those pages were created - from rolls of adding machine tape, to circular and puzzle styling...the art of creative writing took on a whole new meaning. </div>
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My Country Cousins' living gave great room for imagination. On one occasion, my older cousin and I took a row boat out on Lake Mary Ronan to do some fishing. And...we fished...and...we fished...pulling in about 40 sunfish into our boat (it's true - all documented in my childhood diary)! I don't know what we did with them after that - but, we sure had a great time.<br />
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Then there was the time an elder Uncle took us to ride horses on his property nearby. He saddled up the horses and sent us off into the cow pasture. In that pasture was one hefty bull. Needless to say, this inexperienced city girl got quite nervous...ok...scared...and was done for the day. Which irritated our Uncle since we weren't out more than 1/2 hour.</div>
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Ah, yes....<br />
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We also visited the cousins who lived on a farm. My uncle harvested wheat so my brothers discovered sliding down the mounds of wheat in the barn. I didn't like the itching results, but did get to experience the harvesting while riding on the combine machine. Scary but thrilling. One morning as my dad and uncle were talking over coffee, I asked, "Can we ride the <i>concubine</i> today?" They burst out laughing - I didn't know what I said while the hot color appeared on my cheeks.<br />
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Drinking raw milk gave me another Country pause as grass floated on the top of the milking pail. Well water was the other farm beverage which tasted pretty nasty to my citified taste buds. "Normal" for my farm cousins. Adventures for me.<br />
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Cousins - memories and foundations to build on for a life time.<br />
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What memories trigger for you with your cousins?<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgyq2Fidg1geBh9_05zLWSDVJAf4pD9fwCVLjyffqCdBa_dCGZ_6kb9ngGAdLa_p7M0EXoK_-rDBzaRtVLGqpNe7O1Pu3VtCVF4wV7KCvOsthkyoDgbQGmsjxSm_2m-0_nDEYjtD59u_8/s1600/1956Cousins.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgyq2Fidg1geBh9_05zLWSDVJAf4pD9fwCVLjyffqCdBa_dCGZ_6kb9ngGAdLa_p7M0EXoK_-rDBzaRtVLGqpNe7O1Pu3VtCVF4wV7KCvOsthkyoDgbQGmsjxSm_2m-0_nDEYjtD59u_8/s1600/1956Cousins.jpg" height="207" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>I'm the baby with my Aunt Chris. <br />Brother LeRoy standing next to her, <br />cousins Wanda and Steve with my Dad - about 1956</i></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-44174866309898525672014-03-19T11:29:00.000-07:002014-03-19T16:15:49.615-07:00Where have you been? <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaVVACWRpg6HhF4CDGTFSGMLDtmb-_RkVJB1sGBcedSLZKJLjkimbIHyTY_A4QxcWql5Db9KBZj-g9wrJ2lb7rtLb7L7lg0JE-AUxxuJDYgGj_4j2qzGW24cIvU0x4VNPHu_BCBhqTM4/s1600/PathbyEric2013.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPaVVACWRpg6HhF4CDGTFSGMLDtmb-_RkVJB1sGBcedSLZKJLjkimbIHyTY_A4QxcWql5Db9KBZj-g9wrJ2lb7rtLb7L7lg0JE-AUxxuJDYgGj_4j2qzGW24cIvU0x4VNPHu_BCBhqTM4/s1600/PathbyEric2013.jpg" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Photo by Eric Johanesen (c) 2013</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Where have you been....you ask?<br />
<br />
I dropped this blog to start another at <a href="http://sandisnotebook.com/2012/07/page/2/" target="_blank">Sandi's Notebook</a>.<br />
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Our life as we knew it was shifting to new adventures. I wanted to record that adventure, and others, in a more unique place.<br />
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But...<br />
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That left this site all alone.<br />
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Now, almost two years have passed, and I still resonate with this blog. There are still personal posts I want to share, and it seems appropriate to do it here rather than combine at the other site.<br />
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So, apologies for confusing everyone....especially me. :)<br />
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I'm getting closer to 60 every year, so I need to keep the pace for sharing how I'm doing with it all.<br />
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My dear husband told me, "Write as if to your grandkids" and so that's how I want to keep things in perspective.<br />
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So, grandkids.<br />
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That's where I left off - the expectation of one yet to arrive. Take a look <a href="http://sandisnotebook.com/reality-check/" target="_blank">here</a> for a very brief glimpse...but keeping watching...I'll be updating on the recent additions very soon.<br />
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And, now, nearly two years later, our grandson is 1 1/2 years old - and - we have a granddaughter nearing 4 months old! In between - we spent three months in China. This is where this blog took a detour over to <a href="http://sandisnotebook.com/2012/07/page/2/" target="_blank">here</a>. Enjoy a cup of tea (or coffee!) and catch up on some reading.<br />
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Time to catch up! I haven't gone anywhere, just rabbit trailed a bit. I hope you're still with me. :)Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-76604236659428191672012-08-25T15:27:00.002-07:002012-08-25T15:27:27.771-07:00Reminder to Self: be grateful<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLJLEofkDEpwl4ykOKIY6Zi6VjZb9ZJkUYrQJNs9axbDGpVo1OXa5EbGlQ6vf2iYimSxTsLlAbMkiKcoiLMMKU6qvcAAIf0LRBfoRMl-q7Oro7VwUttE9DBzZpE0vHhzuwo0fyX872bfc/s1600/at+the+Metolious.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLJLEofkDEpwl4ykOKIY6Zi6VjZb9ZJkUYrQJNs9axbDGpVo1OXa5EbGlQ6vf2iYimSxTsLlAbMkiKcoiLMMKU6qvcAAIf0LRBfoRMl-q7Oro7VwUttE9DBzZpE0vHhzuwo0fyX872bfc/s320/at+the+Metolious.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
I had the privilege to attend a bridal shower recently.<br />
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The new bride is someone I've enjoyed growing to know over the last couple of years. She is the only daughter - in the middle of four brothers. Maybe that's why I like her so much - seeing that I have three brothers and no sisters, there's something about being the "only" girl. This young woman is...well...young-er....than me by a few decades which means she's among the age of my own daughters.<br />
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At the shower, she was asked to share her story - how she met her soon-to-be husband, the courtship, and engagement. The story was sweet and unusual by today's familiar standards. Very briefly, it took her older brother contacting the young man, asking him if he intended to take a wife in his future plans and to consider pursuing his sister. Wow! How many brothers would go that extra mile? The young man eventually took this request seriously, followed up with communication to her out-of-country parents - and we'll say, "the rest is history." They married just a week ago.<br />
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What was especially meaningful as she shared her story was her response to him upon receiving her engagement ring. A beautiful diamond setting on a black/gray band. She didn't want to accept it at first...it was too beautiful, she said. She didn't feel it was deserved. As her heart and mind struggled over the precious gift from her future husband....she realized....it would be showing an ungrateful heart to The Giver.<br />
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Seeing her future husband through new eyes, she understood in her soul that this was the beginning of many opportunities to show grace and thanksgiving to her beloved.<br />
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"How much like Christ," she said. "How often He wants to surprise us with his precious and generous giving, yet, we refuse to receive from The Giver the very best He has to offer, ignoring those very gifts <i><b>because we think we ought to receive something different." </b></i><br />
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Here is a young woman, half my age, reminding me of a very basic truth.<br />
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Marriage is that tremendous gift. An example of the Greatest Gift - our Lord and Savior. And, what more does he wish to give us through his own life? How could I want for anything else?<br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-39903305448626601702012-08-21T12:01:00.000-07:002012-08-21T12:05:15.554-07:00Elementary moments<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEWcinLx1o7swiMV41f0vyosPkqU2DAfQhAZ5h52PBPDJJn5W_tui0Mzf3cVnQx80v_g4xrO-xlCB2kGZqeZg1WfrJ71pQa_6flMrdcpLIsANXiD_HHApieDlxnZ1JRmN0XA2deuLeiWo/s1600/SCAN0032.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEWcinLx1o7swiMV41f0vyosPkqU2DAfQhAZ5h52PBPDJJn5W_tui0Mzf3cVnQx80v_g4xrO-xlCB2kGZqeZg1WfrJ71pQa_6flMrdcpLIsANXiD_HHApieDlxnZ1JRmN0XA2deuLeiWo/s320/SCAN0032.JPG" width="225" /></a></div>
This is a picture of me at about 10 years of age. I was a candidate for the Jr. Rose Festival from my school...Vestal Elementary. <span style="font-size: x-small;">(I actually still have that dress tucked away in my cedar chest)</span> Standing with me is my escort, Stuart Elkins. Sadly, he passed away several years ago due to a work related accident.<br />
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Forty-plus years.....<br />
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Some of my old-timey friends from Vestal days are busy pulling together our classmates via <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/508223255861199/" target="_blank">Facebook</a>. It's a hoot! Some of those long time friends I remember well, and have continued connections off and on over the years. Some I've unfortunately forgotten, others have already passed from this life. <br />
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But, you know....we're excited about being in touch again. It doesn't matter what kind of friends we were at the time...we were just kids growing up...today, we are interested in knowing how everyone is doing. Why? I think because it feels like family.<br />
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We spent most of our growing years together. Many started at Vestal in Kindergarten, moving up each grade level until the 8th grade. There was no such thing as middle school or junior high in our city schools. Only the rural schools had the Jr. High method, and only a few moved over from a nearby neighborhood school, Wilcox, that went to 4th grade.<br />
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We were an incredible mixture of rambunctious kids. Yet, we were best friends one year, enemies the next, and in between we didn't care. We had Girl Scouts and Boy Scouts. We had music class at one end of the building, art class at the other, with gym class in the middle. Boys went to shop class, girls had home economics. Kickball in our younger years turned to softball in the later ones. As is typical, the non-athletic students coveted to be on the team with the best athletic student. There were boyfriend crushes, favorite teachers, popular kids and smart kids. There were shy kids and artistic kids. <br />
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Forty-plus years....<br />
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Those were the years when man first stepped foot on the moon, when President Kennedy and Martin Luther King, JR. were assassinated, when the Beatles were the rage, hippies and the flower child brought cultural change. Mini-skirts and bell-bottom pants, Go-Go boots and psychedelic illusions and drugs. Jesus freaks and Hell's Angels. The Happy Face. The Ford Mustang. Years of incredible change.<br />
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And....here we are....forty-plus years later.<br />
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Are we still what we were back then? Have we followed our dreams? Have we changed our destiny and become even more than we expected? Have we found failure to only succeed in something greater? Are we at peace with our lives today?<br />
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I think for me, there is still a hint of fear and shyness from those days long ago. But, I've lived my dreams in ways that have surprised me and given me joy. I am who I am because of those eight years together with my childhood friends. They each added to my life in unique ways - important ways - that helped grow me and teach me what I needed in order to reach <i>this side of 50</i>.<br />
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P.S. <i>A note from the soon-to-be Grandma</i><br />
<i>Baby should arrive within the next 24 hours! "Excited" doesn't even describe my emotions right now! </i>SJ<br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-564483843572417862012-08-17T14:15:00.000-07:002012-08-17T14:15:19.510-07:00Grandma thoughts while waiting....<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPzCFQMMlEGtjYY_ylUvu45Bbnz3_xeWV8yYbILWiz42VZeNfz1BXFFHq2UlPg6I-YOXor8vA-2M2m9Yg1BsSwMWfCW568H92-2yLkjIlFv-kFXdJuzHG8jhIO9tpkCouTvZPOEP0xsNg/s1600/newborn+rachel.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPzCFQMMlEGtjYY_ylUvu45Bbnz3_xeWV8yYbILWiz42VZeNfz1BXFFHq2UlPg6I-YOXor8vA-2M2m9Yg1BsSwMWfCW568H92-2yLkjIlFv-kFXdJuzHG8jhIO9tpkCouTvZPOEP0xsNg/s320/newborn+rachel.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Our momma-to-be as a newborn on Grandma's lap -<br /> Great Grandma Meme on the near left, <br />next to Great-Aunt Marie; Great-Aunt Ede on the right</i></td></tr>
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Yes, we're still waiting for the little one to arrive. Not as impatiently as the momma, I'm sure...but, we know it's any day now.<br />
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It's been 23 years since I gave birth to my last child. Nearly 32 years since the first. In those years I've been a slightly surprised how much has changed compared to "my day." Or....am I the only one who thinks so?<br />
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For one, ultrasounds (sonograms) were a new thing 32 years ago. They weren't routinely done as they are now. In fact, it was a <i>lab </i>procedure. When my doctor knew we needed to know why I was experiencing pre-mature labor (like....7 weeks pre-mature), he ordered a <i>sonogram.</i> Lying on the exam table, the technician came in and squeezed the goop on my belly. I could not see the screen - that was not allowed....because....well, it was a lab procedure! :)<br />
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I could hear others behind the curtain commenting about <b>twins</b>, but had <i>no idea</i> they were discussing <i>my </i>pictures! Soon the doctor walks in with a grin from ear to ear, "Well, we know why you've begun labor...." and the rest is history - I was carrying <i>twins.</i><br />
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Since that time, my doctor routinely performed ultrasounds fro each of my pregnancy. And, even then, we never asked what the gender would be. We were offered...but, it seemed strange to "<i>want to know"</i> before the arrival day.<br />
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Another "new" thing is the presence of family members in the birthing room. Not just daddy, but the mom, the mom-in-law, the best friend....a <i>professional photographer</i>.....and who knows who else.... This growing sense of entitlement has only been developing since the 1970s. But, when I was having babies, it <i>maybe</i> allowed the husband. And, certainly for the C-section - which was my required mode of birthing (which is another story for another time), dads <i>maybe</i> were allowed in the surgery. <br />
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Our daughter and son-in-law have chosen a private birthing. They want time to process this experience just the two of them - which is perfectly fine. They plan to have time for just them and baby before the onslaught of visitors. <br />
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It seems like almost back to basics - the old fashioned way.Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-32048597721617312512012-08-15T15:25:00.000-07:002014-03-20T19:52:20.819-07:00A Re-gift Beyond WordsFirst of all...no grand baby yet!<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJTMSZQZgHlKt6wdwbB0euIcIgaGTFMo85jasaVJ1MrncoQ-C8tG1lypF6ffztWL9v5BH5bvXHtV-U4sMcxds0rnSZty2B4SlDAeJVF7vSBzPW5u2onQquV_U2uz34GkW_8knnAB3Gqw/s1600/IMAG0335.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLJTMSZQZgHlKt6wdwbB0euIcIgaGTFMo85jasaVJ1MrncoQ-C8tG1lypF6ffztWL9v5BH5bvXHtV-U4sMcxds0rnSZty2B4SlDAeJVF7vSBzPW5u2onQquV_U2uz34GkW_8knnAB3Gqw/s320/IMAG0335.jpg" height="320" width="190" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>The lovely bed cover</i></td></tr>
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So, instead, I spent this <i>Due Date</i> enjoying breakfast at Elmer's with my Aunt, Uncle and Cousin. What a fun time we always have. Catching up. Talking about stuff. Always laughter. I love my family.<br />
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Upon my arrival, my Aunt said to my Uncle, "Show Sandi what you have down by your feet." Uncle pulled up a medium sized cardboard box. They had just moved 40+ years from their home to an apartment. In the process, they packed this small box which Uncle handed to me.<br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1ZxLO6lVXcWlkw5q0wlYBzlPP-ZaeSij5mk2-EEAOPRBDEEmTeXgbGr5y5zSbxXRYn5bFB2Sg030k-XXViE_4Szn1P3KHXpcJvvDOjVVAIA_rL4tRNz6xQMEXkd6ySHNBmqMaMsjTY8/s1600/SCAN0034.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb1ZxLO6lVXcWlkw5q0wlYBzlPP-ZaeSij5mk2-EEAOPRBDEEmTeXgbGr5y5zSbxXRYn5bFB2Sg030k-XXViE_4Szn1P3KHXpcJvvDOjVVAIA_rL4tRNz6xQMEXkd6ySHNBmqMaMsjTY8/s200/SCAN0034.JPG" height="183" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Me, around 1959</i><br />
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I held the box as they told me it was from my Dad.....a gift to them from 1959. I recognized it immediately. You see, my Dad crocheted this bed cover. His mom, my Grandmother and a great Aunt also added a few squares.<br />
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My heart melted as the puddles formed in my eyes.<br />
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A re-gift beyond words.<br />
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I just had to share.<br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-11204605457348137282012-08-07T16:32:00.003-07:002012-08-07T16:36:48.969-07:00Our first Grandbaby is almost here!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgapbihli_4SIWpSJWnSV0Svu-fiNGYQgxrlSC-4cergkgv31FGzNuRVB4MZGqzmTFsFuCRVPV_wJNfdSfxQ2ZKZUBxW38MHTKcPdo7nbCuzrGOICK83NxK4bMObKu3kqq71BoNTdsPf7I/s1600/babyfeet.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgapbihli_4SIWpSJWnSV0Svu-fiNGYQgxrlSC-4cergkgv31FGzNuRVB4MZGqzmTFsFuCRVPV_wJNfdSfxQ2ZKZUBxW38MHTKcPdo7nbCuzrGOICK83NxK4bMObKu3kqq71BoNTdsPf7I/s200/babyfeet.jpg" width="200" /></a></div>
In just a few more days......I'm going to be a Grandma!<br />
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I'm surprised by my emotions. Our first Grandbaby....my heart and mind are in a whirl.<br />
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Becoming a Grandma sure brings back the memories. Each stage of our daughter's pregnancy - from the morning sickness to the swelling ankles - I marvel that my "baby" is going to have a baby - in.just.a.few.more.days!<br />
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Our daughter and husband chose not to Find Out what they're having. They're going about it the old-fashioned way. They want to be surprised....like it was <i>back-in-the-day</i> when she and her siblings were born. Sonograms....now called ultrasounds...were not the <i>norm </i>when our kids were growing in the womb. It was still a lab procedure and not done routinely as they are now. (Although, in my case - I had C-sections for all my births, so the ultrasound became routine for my situation.) <br />
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We are also being held in suspense as to what names they've chosen. <br />
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When we were having babies, we thought we had <i>the name</i> picked out. It never failed - once we held that newborn in our arms, only then were we certain what we would call that new little person. Our twins had to wait a couple days before we were decided on who would get what name. They are labeled <i>Baby A </i>and <i>Baby B </i> for a few days. The nurses began to tease us that they didn't have names. Heck! We didn't even know we were having twins until 8 weeks before their birth-day!<br />
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Then, there was the "boy" welcomed into our family a couple years later. But, since we didn't know whether we were having a boy or girl the names were still up for grabs.<br />
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So, as we added three more children, we became more comfortable with our method - we waited until we <i>saw </i>our new little one before making the final decision.<br />
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It wasn't only just choosing a name we liked, but, what that name would mean. We wanted our children's names to have significance. The Bible often shows purpose and meaning behind names given, so we chose to follow that example. Some of those meanings are: <i>Gracious One; Innocent Lamb; Gift from God; Honorable Ruler; Strong One; Noble; Protector; Rose of Sharon; ....(those who know our kids, can you guess which meaning applies to which child?)</i><br />
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I can hardly wait to hear the name of our grandchild...to meet this precious blessing in just a few.more.days!<br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-67428616594860379792012-06-05T11:21:00.001-07:002012-06-05T11:21:19.364-07:00Root Canal PonderingsWell, I just got myself scheduled for a root canal.<br />
Root canals are for other people, aren't they?<br />
Evidently not. I have a cracked molar that is giving me problems. It has seen better days.<br />
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But hey - 50 years isn't so bad (or so....not exactly sure when my molars entered the scene)<br />
We are a generation that has seen the dental profession evolve - literally.<br />
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I remember I was about 10 years old with an abscessed molar. (Hm...is there a pattern here?)<br />
Our dentist was down in the Hollywood area and I think my mom borrowed the car from dad that day to take me to the appointment. My black-and-white memory sees mom standing at the door as the doctor proceeds with the extraction - without anesthesia....he yanks my tooth out and I scream.<br />
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Mom remembers the doctor getting after her for agitating me. That's not how I remember it. It actually was a comfort knowing my mom was right there. It was the pain and anger from the dentist that shook my confidence.<br />
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Fast forward to our own kids. Those little kids all squirrely in the dentist chair. For the most part, the experience was non-threatening. The kids were rewarded each time for their bravery. As a 4-year-old, Rachel was one that just could not accept the big chair as safe. So, big sister Anna crawled up next to her and a successful cleaning followed.<br />
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The wonders of dentistry. Such a scary experience for some reason.<br />
So, now...I'm heading in for my own dental work....and I'm a little worked up over it.<br />
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Doc explained at my consult appointment what was going on with the nerve, putting to rest the idea of any infection. He said, "If there wasn't any pain, then there would be concern for infection. Infection means dead nerve. Dead nerve means no pain." I guess that's good.<br />
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These teeth have served me well for over 50 years. I'm grateful to have all of them in fairly good shape at this stage. As a child I assumed everyone had false teeth when they got old - really! I did! It seemed many of my elderly relatives had these amazing teeth that could come out of their mouths!<br />
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I could opt to have my tooth removed, but... that would bring in other issues.<br />
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On the drive home I pondered on the wonder of my tooth. Yes, this is how my brain works. Just looking at the smallest details of those little bones in my mouth and their function makes me wonder how anyone could deny the love and care of Someone greater who thought teeth would be a good idea.<br />
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How could these amazing tools happen by chance?<br />
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Just a thought.<br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-37032098054201687462012-05-28T16:34:00.001-07:002012-05-28T16:41:41.559-07:00Up From the Pit<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB86kkAhEmCjHnKvFjENoCaznDMKMUi8aw4cAGi8PnZ1oYmYis3N-3be3DNEK6TvSJmL9MXmKb5P0EvLormhWkXYgKD8Ps3kmpcXHGiPwTiUdA-dFV4cuc-qwY_ndnp7GJUfwiKGHc1HE/s1600/DSC_0124.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB86kkAhEmCjHnKvFjENoCaznDMKMUi8aw4cAGi8PnZ1oYmYis3N-3be3DNEK6TvSJmL9MXmKb5P0EvLormhWkXYgKD8Ps3kmpcXHGiPwTiUdA-dFV4cuc-qwY_ndnp7GJUfwiKGHc1HE/s320/DSC_0124.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
I know I'm not alone. Somehow, though, it sure feels like it.<br />
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Fear. Sadness. Isolation. Insecurity. Worthlessness. Insignificance. Dead weight. Burdensome.<br />
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Emotions hit me like a freight train. I'm not always prepared - often lurking in the background are these thoughts and emotions - waiting for an opportune moment to cause derailment. <br />
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A pile up of over commitment. A series of events that are emotionally challenging. A comedy of errors. Another's pain I add to my emotional load.<br />
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Many times it just seems to come from nowhere. There it is. The Master Deceiver.<br />
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<b>Someone right here, right now, knows just what I mean.</b><br />
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And the lies begin.....<br />
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Lies....all....lies.<br />
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Somehow, the lies become believable.<br />
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<i><b>Voices from the pit</b></i>, my husband reminds me.<br />
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The Pit of Despair.<br />
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The Pit of Despondency.<br />
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The Pit of Deception.<br />
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The Pit of Lies.<br />
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And, then - the <b><i>amazing</i></b> happens.<br />
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A kind word of encouragement; an offered prayer; a random hand extended; a listening ear.<br />
He hears and blesses. He knows.<br />
<i>The <b>truth explained</b> through His Spirit and the written Word.</i><br />
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<b>I am surprised by His Glory!</b><br />
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Confident because of Jesus. Joy of the Lord is my strength. He will never leave me nor forsake me. I am His child - created for His glory. My burdens are light because He carries them.<br />
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He loved the so much that He gave it all - for me - for you.<br />
The sufferings of the Pit turn to rejoicing in His glory - the Master of Truth.<br />
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<i>I waited patiently for the LORD;</i></div>
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<i>he inclined to me and heard my cry.</i></div>
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<i>He drew me up from the pit of destruction,</i></div>
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<i>out of the miry bog,</i></div>
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<i>and <b>set my feet upon a rock,</b></i></div>
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<i><b>making my steps secure.</b></i></div>
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<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
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<i>Blessed is the man who makes</i></div>
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<i>the LORD his trust,</i></div>
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<i>who does not turn to the proud....</i></div>
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<i>....You have multiplied, O LORD my God,</i></div>
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<i>your wondrous deeds and your thoughts toward us;</i></div>
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<i>none can compare with you!</i></div>
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<i>I will proclaim and tell of them,</i></div>
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<i>yet they are more than can be told.</i></div>
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<i>(see <a href="http://esv.scripturetext.com/psalms/40.htm" target="_blank">Psalm 40</a> for more of His Glory!)</i></div>
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"<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>You don't have to sit outside in the dark. If, however, you want to look at the stars, you will find the darkness necessary." </i>Lesa Engelthaier</span><br />
<i><span style="font-size: x-small;"><br /></span></i><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i>"The danger for most of us is that we desire feeling good more than we desire God." </i>John Ortberg</span><br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-5276900793956635192012-05-21T15:17:00.002-07:002012-05-21T15:27:32.294-07:00Do You Hear the Music?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif; font-size: 17px;">The <a href="http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2007/04/04/AR2007040401721.html" target="_blank"><b>story</b></a> came out a few years ago.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif; font-size: 17px;">A Master violinist donned a baseball cap, stood next to a garbage container near the revolving doors of a major transit station. Opening his case, he tossed few coins as "feeders." </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif; font-size: 17px;">Closing his eyes, he begins his impromptu concert as busy commuters rushed by.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif; font-size: 17px;"><a href="http://www.joshuabell.com/" target="_blank">Joshua Bell</a> - only a few weeks prior performed at the Library of Congress with ticket prices going for a minimum of $100 a guest. Here, the public is given a free sampling of his talents, but they are oblivious. Children would tug at their mother's hand, craning to stop and listen but the busy parent would continue on their rushed agenda. Others would toss a few coins in the case as they hurried out the door. Some would linger only to continue on to their appointments. A handful caught that there was something special about this "street" performer. Only one would know.</span><br />
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<b style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">Do I hear the Music?</span></i></b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></i><span style="font-size: 17px;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif; font-size: 17px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif; font-size: 17px;">.....the hurried rush out the door</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"> <i> stop and listen to the One Who directs my paths</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;">.....an extended hand of addiction and deception</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"> <i> remembering I am broken, too</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;">.....harsh words thought and spoken</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"> <i>let my words be seasoned with salt</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;">.....a child's curiosity</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"> <i>oh, to have faith as a child</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;">.....a quick prayer</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"> <i>kneeling till it hurts</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><i><br /></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><i>.....</i>depression, sadness, discouragement</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"> <i>He has experienced the wilderness, too - take shelter under the shadow of His wings</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><i><br /></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><i>.....</i>affliction in sickness and death</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"> <i>Jesus wept - He mercies are new every morning</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><i><br /></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><b>He is here - do you hear the Music from the Master?</b></i></span></span><br />
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<i style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif; font-size: small;">Inspired by the Sermon topic: <a href="http://www.gatheringcc.org/category/blog/podcast/sermons/" target="_blank">Religious Practices</a>: April 29, 2012, Daniel Fender</i><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Times New Roman', times, serif;"><span style="font-size: 17px;"><br /></span></span>Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-48183453609096279102012-05-03T08:36:00.000-07:002012-05-03T08:56:37.526-07:00Day of Prayer<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnAGxvpQfFJ3p5Cf1bZSa-EAG_pEqk1X0g9WseTLBGKTwCH_m0Ul8_wkhoGQT49lhqOhiX8CY-Qgg7um_2j7zt-gTMO1uHBvdwnI8zeol0mnBhVKyVS8C8jVA2b3hXmTXCvo35WyLiff4/s1600/american-half-staff-flag.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnAGxvpQfFJ3p5Cf1bZSa-EAG_pEqk1X0g9WseTLBGKTwCH_m0Ul8_wkhoGQT49lhqOhiX8CY-Qgg7um_2j7zt-gTMO1uHBvdwnI8zeol0mnBhVKyVS8C8jVA2b3hXmTXCvo35WyLiff4/s320/american-half-staff-flag.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="196" /></a>Today is <a href="http://nationaldayofprayer.org/news/honorary-chairman/2012-national-prayer/" target="_blank">National Day of Prayer</a>.<br />
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How can we pray? How ought we pray? There are certainly many things we read, think and speak about the affairs of our country these days. So, this morning, I got to looking to the Source. <br />
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Please join me today<br />
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<b><i>Our Father in heaven, holy is your name</i></b><br />
<i>Father, you are our Father who loves and cares for us, who sent us Jesus, your only Son by which t</i><i>here is no other Name under heaven by which man can be saved (Acts 4:12)</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>You are holy and worthy of all praise </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9xPzTSpbYmk" target="_blank"><b>You are God alone</b></a> - from beginning to end - set apart to receive the highest honor</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>"'From the rising of the sun to its setting my name will be great among the nations, and in every place incense will be offered to my name, and a pure offering. for my name will be great among the nations', says the Lord of hosts." (Mal.1:11)</i><br />
<i></i><br />
<a name='more'></a><i><b>Your Kingdom come, Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven</b></i><br />
<i>We pray your gospel of Jesus Christ will reign in the hearts of your people of this nation so as to reach those who have yet to know you.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>We pray for your Church to continually increase in Christ's love, to honor and obey Christ's commands (Matt.28), to do good for all people and proclaim the Good News to ALL people</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Your </i><i><u>will</u>, Lord is for all people to know you and worship you - that we would live in a way that others will see You glorified and come to a saving knowledge of you.</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i><b>Give us this day our daily bread</b></i><br />
<i>You will never leave us nor forsake us</i><br />
<i>You are our provider and healer</i><br />
<i>We are grateful you know our every need, even before we ask</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>We are a nation so richly blessed - let us bless YOU, O Lord with a grateful heart of praise</i><br />
<i>Let us bless You by living gratefully for the riches we do have and to give graciously to those who have none</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Let us bless You by seeking out our neighbors who hurt, by intentionally sharing Christ's love to the world - not by 'good works' so that we can boast - but by Your grace - and humility </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i><b>And forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors</b></i><br />
<i>Pride, arrogance, envy, idolatry, thoughts, apathy.....we are weak and fail daily - yet, your grace is sufficient.....</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Teach us to forgive....</i><br />
<i> Ourselves.......each other.......our enemies............</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
<i>Because you loved us first.....</i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
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<i>"He has told you, O man, what is good;</i></div>
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<i>and what does the Lord require of you</i></div>
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<i>but to do justice, and to love kindness,</i></div>
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<i>and to walk humbly with your God?</i></div>
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<i>(Micah 6:8)</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>"For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him." (John 3:17)</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i><b>And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil</b></i></div>
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<i>We battle with sin and evil every day, yet, Father, let us "count it all joy" when we encounter trials (James 1:2) for these are to strengthen us in wisdom</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>Yet....lead us into paths of righteousness and not evil so that we may continue to walk in your truth</i></div>
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<i>We pray that our eyes remain on you</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>You have told us that in this world we will have tribulation ... BUT, You have overcome the world....!!</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i><b>For Yours is the Kingdom and the Power and the Glory....forever....</b></i></div>
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<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
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<i><b>Amen.</b></i></div>
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<i><b><br /></b></i></div>
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Let us encourage one another....What can you add to my prayer today?</div>
<i><br /></i>Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-84532317318179067382012-04-21T15:56:00.002-07:002012-04-21T15:56:42.789-07:00The Gift of the Vow<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TiXHd6E3pnXzOxIwXzPEt9ppaElbEqV9FDMWPpfYrJ2uWFFAKThc-BOLOi6x3GQNON-7UV8SDxieaY8UIuDsAk5cN_XECxnadELVTNTEy1Qo1VvcnMCx8Pp2KlErwQ8ICJq90N1-HBU/s1600/3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_TiXHd6E3pnXzOxIwXzPEt9ppaElbEqV9FDMWPpfYrJ2uWFFAKThc-BOLOi6x3GQNON-7UV8SDxieaY8UIuDsAk5cN_XECxnadELVTNTEy1Qo1VvcnMCx8Pp2KlErwQ8ICJq90N1-HBU/s320/3.jpg" width="214" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On her wedding day - <br />
adding the finishing touches to her vows</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
We just saw the movie <i><a href="http://www.thevow-movie.com/" target="_blank">The Vow</a>. </i><br />
<i><br /></i><br />
The film is based on the <a href="http://www.foxnews.com/entertainment/2012/02/16/real-life-couple-from-vow-says-it-would-have-been-nice-to-see-christian/" target="_blank">true story</a> of a young married couple involved in a serious car accident which left the wife in a coma for weeks - only to awaken with some memory loss - that loss included no memory of her husband.<br />
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The audience is immediately drawn into the dilemma of this couple's struggle through something they never anticipated - that is, do they live out their marriage vows, or abandon them? The wife clearly does not remember anything about this man who claims to be married to her. For him, she is not the woman he knew just a few weeks earlier.<br />
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As we struggle along with the characters, we are pressed to consider <i><b>what we would do</b></i> should we find ourselves in a similar situation.<br />
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All too common we hear the reasoning to "move on" or, "it's too hard, it's not worth dragging this thing on." Common-sense would tell us that...right?<br />
<br />
<a name='more'></a><br />
What is a <i>Vow</i>?<br />
A vow is a binding promise. It is often related to the marriage vows....<i>"to love and cherish, in sickness and health, for richer or poorer, for better or worse....till death do us part."</i><br />
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In Ephesians 5:31 it says this:<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother</i></div>
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<i>and <u>hold fast to his wife</u>, </i></div>
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<i>and the two shall become one flesh."</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<i>"...to hold fast..." </i> also means <i>"...to cleave..." </i></div>
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.... which means: to adhere closely; stick; cling; unwavering; to remain faithful</div>
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<br /></div>
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Think of two pieces of wood glued together with superglue. When you try pulling the pieces apart there is tearing and fracture. Some pieces are left attached to the other - fragmented, splintered and scarred.</div>
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So, when we hear the wedding vows.....</div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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This film is one couple's <a href="http://www.bhpublishinggroup.com/books/products.asp?p=9781433675799" target="_blank"><b>story</b></a> .... against all odds .... </div>
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<i><br /></i></div>Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-25434444721896042862012-04-17T16:37:00.000-07:002012-04-17T16:37:28.030-07:00The Gift of the Bridegroom<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYptzUXhQOTjSek-lLcLQXqpr6znT1D8CQa5qCrObZxFvQIV0YC7JCFnxfH6bKnlB0YGVI15iGW1E48gbSIWtx1ia0fqlAZIUqAFSAHNyM63WiCxtTvC4n7msH2FyOFsJz5znTrdYzecY/s1600/HeatherRian.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYptzUXhQOTjSek-lLcLQXqpr6znT1D8CQa5qCrObZxFvQIV0YC7JCFnxfH6bKnlB0YGVI15iGW1E48gbSIWtx1ia0fqlAZIUqAFSAHNyM63WiCxtTvC4n7msH2FyOFsJz5znTrdYzecY/s320/HeatherRian.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Our eldest daughter is getting married soon. She is our eldest - well, a twin - so technically she is "one of" the eldest - of our four daughters, and the last - certainly not the least - to <b><i>marry</i></b>. <br />
<br />
We thought we knew our daughters - after all, we birthed them, raised them, lived in the same house with them....but when each young man entered the picture, a 'new' daughter emerged. Oh, she didn't transform into someone unrecognizable, but it was these young men who enhanced her already precious traits, bringing out qualities not yet tapped. These couples complement each other; they sharpen each other; they put their minds together creating new ideas.....and....laying a foundation for a new generation....they are a combined mixture of character, quality and consistency....blended.<br />
<a name='more'></a>I think about how each of these guys <b style="font-style: italic;">chose </b>to marry our girls. They didn't opt to "shack up" first and test the waters to see if they were compatible. They chose to honor our girls - respect their reputation and integrity. They chose to be obedient to God and his whole idea of marriage. In today's world, this is truly <a href="http://courageousthemovie.com/themovie" target="_blank">courageous</a>.<br />
<br />
It's these times I return to memories of my own bridegroom of 36 years. Re-reading a familiar passage of scripture - <a href="http://esv.scripturetext.com/ephesians/5-22.htm" target="_blank">Ephesians 5:22-33</a>, I saw something fresh. For those of who are married for any length of time, we acknowledge our commitment does take a huge amount of investing in our relationship in order to make it last. And, it's not just to <i>make it last</i>, but, to <i>make it strong! </i>Without the Biblical foundation and encouragement from God's Word, I wonder where we would be otherwise - marriage would no longer hold any meaning whatsoever.<br />
<br />
Here's what caught my attention:<br />
<br />
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<i>"Therefore a man shall leave his father and mother and <u>hold fast to his wife</u>, and the two shall become one flesh."</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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As I see our young adults moving into marriage and a lifetime together - this particular statement gives me pause. My prayer is for these modern-day bridegrooms to hold their wives tightly. To give her his full attention, love and respect. To become so embraced, that they know each other's heart beat through the storms and triumphs that will come their way.<br />
<br />
This is Marriage - a sacrifice that takes courage.<br />
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This is God's gift: Jesus - our Bridegroom.<br />
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Leaving behind all he held dear - holding fast to his Bride - the two become one. This mystery is profound.</div>
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-69944463343225100802012-04-06T14:04:00.000-07:002012-04-06T14:04:36.318-07:00The Gift of Pain<br />
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I've told the story many times - but - bear with me and keep reading....</div>
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<br />
<a href="http://www.zondervan.com/media/images/product/large/0310221447.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://www.zondervan.com/media/images/product/large/0310221447.jpg" width="209" /></a>I was having grave struggles in my attitude - nothing new - but, this time I just couldn't get past my anger. My anger was burning towards my best friend, my life partner - my husband. <br />
<br />
As I struggled through my daily Bible reading - I paused - well, stopped - slammed the Book down - and cried out to God, "I can't get past this anger!" With literal fear and trembling - I knew by asking I'd get an answer - I just wasn't sure I wanted to hear it....but, I asked again, "Show me....show me in your Word - today - what you would have me do."<br />
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It was a <a href="http://www.lifejournal.cc/" target="_blank">read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year journal</a> I was following. That day's reading was in Numbers 12 (go figure...God's way of impressing the importance of His word - my husband is an accountant). This particular section was about Moses....actually, his brother Aaron and sister Miriam. They were grumbling, too. Aaron and Miriam didn't like Moses' wife, and they thought they weren't getting enough credit...blah, blah, blah. Wow....human nature hasn't changed much.<br />
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The point is, they were grumbling against Moses - God's chosen servant......<br />
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<a name='more'></a>"God's chosen one." Now, on another day, I probably wouldn't read this in the same way - but, remember - I prayed. My answer was found in verse 8, "Why, then, were you not afraid to speak against my servant Moses? (Insert 'Ron') Yikes! For the first time I was hit with the reality - Ron was God's servant - to me, to our family, to our church and others. God's chosen one.<br />
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This is very serious. To oppose Moses, whom God had put in this position, was to oppose God. By opposing my husband, am I opposing God as well?<br />
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If this wasn't sobering enough -<br />
<br />
Miriam was struck with leprosy....immediately....like snow.<br />
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My story takes a new turn.<br />
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"And Aaron said to Moses, 'Oh my lord, do not punish us because we have done foolishly and have sinned.'"<br />
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Sinned? For grumbling?<br />
Foolishness - yes - but, sin?<br />
Wow<br />
<br />
The pain of my anger is a warning signal. It screams something is seriously wrong. It's not just what I'm angry about - it's what is churning within. Resentment? Jealousy? Selfishness? Entitlement? Hurt? Whatever it is - there is pain.
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<br />
Dr. Paul Brand wrote a book entitled, "<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/298679.The_Gift_of_Pain"><span style="color: blue;">The Gift of Pain</span></a>" and his work with those stricken with leprosy (today it is known as Hanson's Disease).<br />
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The stigma with leprosy is to be 'unclean'. Contagious. Untouchable. Ostracized. Dirty. <br />
<br />
Looking closer we see the literal numbing effects.<br />
<br />
A leper loses all sense of touch. They cannot feel pain. They lose their fingers and toes because they cannot feel pain. The sores on their bodies manifest due to infections resulting from burning their hand on a stove, stepping on a nail, being bitten by an animal or insect - the list goes on. The disease has taken over unless treated.<br />
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Anger's undermining attitudes are like leprosy. It comes on slowly - but, when festered, it gradually erodes the surface layers until, at last, there is not feeling whatsoever.<br />
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The symbolism of Miriam's leprosy is my sin - anger.<br />
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To overcome that sin - I return to the Cross.<br />
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The Cross of Calvary canceled my sin by the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.<br />
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My pain is laid at His feet. <br />
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How appropriate to remember this Easter.<br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-86221957682218586322012-04-02T11:47:00.001-07:002012-04-02T11:47:44.881-07:00Take Courage<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: #f9fdff; color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;">When You said, "Seek My face," my heart said to You, "Your face, O LORD, I shall seek.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: #f9fdff; color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;"><br /></span><br />
<i>I believe that I shall look upon the goodness of the LORD in the land of the living!</i></div>
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<i>Wait for the LORD:</i></div>
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<i>be strong, and let your heart take courage;</i></div>
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<i>wait for the LORD!</i></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">Psalm 27:8,13</span></div>
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These words were found on a particularly discouraging and lonely day. <br />
<br />
I chose not to even open my Bible that day. I told myself, "Oh, I'll just meditate on what I've already been reading." Knowing full well I would most likely distract myself with other more important things...like blogging.<br />
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So, it was - following a link on the internet.... a link to "fun" activities for families. The blogger's side bar gently displayed, <i>When You said, "Seek My face," my heart said to You, "Your face O LORD, I shall seek."</i><br />
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Funny where God can find me.<br />
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<a name='more'></a></div>
<div style="color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, 'Times New Roman', 'Bitstream Charter', Times, serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 19px;">
To get my attention when I'm not particularly expecting it.<br />
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To tell me He's thinking about me.</div>
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....and to remind me He hasn't moved....but I have.<br />
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Thank you God - thank you for not leaving me lonely.<br />
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Thank you for your gentle reminder of how faithful you are. I am humbled.<br />
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Yes, I will look upon the goodness of the LORD among the living...and wait for Him....because He'll be there!</div>Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-31730972068274057442012-03-17T16:12:00.001-07:002014-03-19T13:01:29.652-07:00Wandering<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwWcWwC9xpq0DUR6WEfHf5vvTY6nDn3XUGgp6uFy1gD7v52WuHX6GXi898nyAls5mOWQE2DNf1AGzTglOwGn-K0caxCtzKS4EdtmCF9q6pVbbpJGVDJigd9PxUyQjmBCDGC0Aqzzet8o/s1600/Spectacular3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhwWcWwC9xpq0DUR6WEfHf5vvTY6nDn3XUGgp6uFy1gD7v52WuHX6GXi898nyAls5mOWQE2DNf1AGzTglOwGn-K0caxCtzKS4EdtmCF9q6pVbbpJGVDJigd9PxUyQjmBCDGC0Aqzzet8o/s1600/Spectacular3.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
It was said, "Not all who wander are lost." <span style="font-size: x-small;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: x-small;">(<i>J.R.R. Tolkien)</i></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-small;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
Maybe - but I wonder....<br />
It seems I'm on track,<br />
But, somehow I've become disillusioned.<br />
<br />
In the not so distant past - or, has it really been longer than I realize? -<br />
Life was filled with ideas and purpose - sometimes too much, I suppose.<br />
New wives and mothers today, I marvel observing their young lives -<br />
They are about what I used to be<br />
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<b>Where did it go?</b><br />
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<a name='more'></a>There's new roles to fulfill in this awkward season<br />
There's wisdom gained and insight to be shared<br />
There's also new challenges and the harsh reality - I'm not getting younger<br />
<br />
The energy level isn't what it used to be<br />
The desire to experience new things has waned<br />
To venture out on my own is pretty much non-existent<br />
Oh - where has "me" gone?<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-73525950441836034612012-02-14T14:53:00.000-08:002012-02-14T14:53:35.159-08:00100 Gifts - My Valentine<br />
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">Inspired by </span><a href="http://onethousandgifts.com/">Ann Voskamp</a><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> – A shared journey<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference"><br /></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsTQ8JDzLLGu8HdwkYhUargonGMoE0nKv8PWUjcK9ctLL6V4RDWKBhcShFzf2NxFu8EbYwFzf0prAVyJUL1EvRN5j-g6ZycX2ByeBFBUZhZoMbdUX34rNH0SK3yLH1jPFzeez9bJvmvyM/s1600/DSC_0114.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhsTQ8JDzLLGu8HdwkYhUargonGMoE0nKv8PWUjcK9ctLL6V4RDWKBhcShFzf2NxFu8EbYwFzf0prAVyJUL1EvRN5j-g6ZycX2ByeBFBUZhZoMbdUX34rNH0SK3yLH1jPFzeez9bJvmvyM/s320/DSC_0114.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">401. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">He forgives - </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">over and
over and over and…..</span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">402. A spontaneous drive to the coast on a Sunday when he’d rather
rest – finding rest in the beauty of the day</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">403. He cleans the ashes out of the woodstove</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">404. Says it’s important to “treat” the neighborhood children </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">this last </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">October</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">405. Manages our finances well</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">406. Serves faithfully at the elder-care facility – loving those who
have trouble speaking, breathing, living….</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">407. Loves dogs </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">408. Helpful, helpful, helpful</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">409. Wants so desperately to go hunting…patiently waiting</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">410. His hands wide – expressive – a joy to hold</span></div>
<a name='more'></a><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p> </o:p></span>411. His soothing melodious singing voice – standing next to him in
worship, hearing his voice – I am blessed</div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">412. <b>He goes cheerfully with me
on errands – “You know what I love about these afternoons?” he says</b></span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><b> </b></span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><b>today….”It’s getting to spend time together for
the little things.”</b></span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">413. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">Nails</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> our
address numbers </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">to</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> the entry</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">414. Brings in wood for the woodstove </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">warm us from the chilly fall days<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">415. Mak</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">es</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> sure we </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">are prepared with</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> enough oil for the </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">winter….checks the furnace to be in working order<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">416. Praying …. Praying …. And more praying …. On his knees</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">417. <b>Hugs…</b> </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">418. Praying quietly in his office for the sick families, not knowing
chicken soup was already prepared and delivered to the very same families</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">419. Wisely giving counsel on a purchase – to wait </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">420. Visionary….dreaming for ideas and a future</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">…as long as I’ve known him<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">421. He makes hot sub-sandwiches to feed a small crowd in our home –
loving to serve our friends</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">422. He wants me to succeed</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> – encourages me to take a course – for
credit<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">423. Takes</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> pictures of our trees – everyday – as the fall colors change</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">424. <b>He reads a </b></span><a href="http://willowcreek.com/wca_prod.asp?invtid=PR27821"><b>book</b></a><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><b> because I
asked him to</b></span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">425. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><b>A trip to visit</b></span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><b> my family
in Montana – taking the time to bless them – and, me</b></span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">426. His wisdom and vision to share with son</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">427. Diligence to rise early and run a few miles – then returns to
spend time in the Word</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">428. His father’s heart has painfully ‘given
away’ three daughters – soon, one more <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">429. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">He will be called ‘Grandpa’ this summer<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">430. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">A glass of wine, a bowl of pan-popped popcorn, just the two
of us.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">431. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">Willing</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> to give,
and give </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">432. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">C</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">omments on
my driving – yes, this is a gift</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">433. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">H</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">e struggles
– he wants so much to hear from the Lord – and to walk in His ways</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> – this makes him stronger<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">434. His example of respect for others</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">435. <b>My goodness! I am growing old with my high school
sweetheart!</b></span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">436. He’s not afraid to try new things – even </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">eating </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">fried crickets!</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">437. Gentle and kind - even when sick</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">438. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">Our drives</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> to the
beach are the best memories</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">439. Removes his own warm woolen socks on a </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">frigid</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> night at the Corner giving them to the homeless woman</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"> </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">whose feet are blue with cold</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">440. He loves to hug me, even if he isn’t cold</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">441. Taking dancing lessons together … he’s a good sport!</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">442. Telling me he wants to walk with me more – to encourage me – and
be together</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">443. Loves my homemade soups</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">444. His gift of healing prayer</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">445. He tries so hard – he bears the anguish on his shoulders –
knowing His Grace is sufficient</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">446. How can I be critical of someone so kind and compassionate?</span><span class="MsoSubtleReference"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">447. </span><span class="MsoSubtleReference">Loves the Word of God as he reads and studies it every day<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">448. Early, before church, he picks up
coffee and donuts for a class then drives to pick up an elderly gentleman for
church, then returns him home after making sure the man had some lunch<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">449. Faithful, faithful Tuesdays and
the care facility with his elderly friends<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">450. Our fun dates to Costco – it’s an
event! We meet new and old friends while browsing the aisles<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">451. To get rid of things is a
challenge….yet, giving to those in need, there is no question<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">452. Asks about the kids and what they’re
up to - daily<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">453. Stopped everything to give a
listening ear to his frustrated wife <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">454. Unloads the car after a trip to
Costco….”How else can I help?” as he offers to prepare lunch for his wife whose
blood sugar has noticeably dropped<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">455. An extra serving of oatmeal
prepared each morning before I rise<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">456. A precious and rare note from him –
found in my stack of favored cards<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">457. His running shoes, lined up on the
shelf at the back door<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">458. The three rose bushes he planted –
are budding – anticipating spring<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">459. The sound of him sleeping next to
me<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">460. I’m always taken by surprise when
my impatience – is met by his quiet grace <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">461. His un-asked-for deep shoulder
massages<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">462. He hugs me tighter when I share my
fears of our shortening years together<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">463. Preparing healthy and creative
meals for him brings inner joy<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">464. Random texts that say “I love you”
in precious messages<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">465. Washing his running clothes –
knowing he continues to persevere even when he’s not up to it<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">466. The funny way he lays out my night
clothes to get me laughing<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">467. He’s a man, I’m a woman – we often
see things differently – yet, we love each other for the differences<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">468. He is my Lord’s servant – never have
I seen it that way before <b><a href="http://bible.cc/numbers/12-8.htm">this</a> </b>and <b><a href="http://bible.cc/psalms/90-12.htm">this</a> </b>– crying to God
to show me to love and respect my best friend more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">469. Thirty-five years ago he vowed to
live his life <b><i>with</i></b> <b><i>me</i></b> – not with any other – but <b><i>me</i></b>
– what sacrificial love<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">470. The ruby – diamond ring – his expression
of love toward me from the <b><a href="http://bible.cc/proverbs/31-10.htm">Proverbs</a></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">471. Chicken and dumplings warm his
heart – and stomach<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">472. Six gifts together would not have
been if we stopped after the first two <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">473. My ability to manage the household
budget and keep a balanced check book – he’s a great teacher<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">474. Makes our vehicles available - transportation,
help in moving, out of town visitors, as a loaner….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">475. By example – our kids are creative
in life ambitions, talents and gifts<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">476. By example – our kids are at ease
with people of various backgrounds, culture, age<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">477. How often do we see someone
tenderly take a man’s hurting foot, remove his sock, examine and massage the
foot, replace the sock to encourage the one in pain? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">478. In high school – there he would be
- eating lunch in the cafeteria with the guy who was messy to be seen with – demonstrating
tremendous compassion and sincere friendship with even the most difficult
people<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">479. A favorite movie: <b><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0358135/">Shall We Dance</a><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">480. A favorite song: <b><a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DTxo1CkMwBI">Why Don’t We Just Dance?</a><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">481. <b><a href="http://esv.scripturetext.com/1_corinthians/13.htm">The Way of
Love</a> </b>The church of Corinth was divided by arrogance and one-upmanship; marriages
can be just as arrogant – the reason for these timeless words<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">482. Marriage cannot survive by actions
alone – there must be motive - the “<b><a href="http://esv.scripturetext.com/galatians/5-16.htm">fruit of the Spirit</a></b>”
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">483. The fruit of the Spirit is: <b>love</b> – my husband loves me as Christ
loves the church – unconditionally and faithfully<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">484. The fruit of the Spirit is: <b>joy</b> – the joy of the Lord is our
strength; weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">485. The fruit of the Spirit is: <b>peace</b> – there is a peace beyond all
understanding when we put our faith in the One who calms our fears amidst the
raging storms<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">486. The fruit of the Spirit is: <b>patience</b> –when he takes a deep breath
and pulls me close; marriage is not a sprint but a marathon<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">487. The fruit of the Spirit is: <b>kindness </b>– the kindness of the Lord
leads us to repentance; so is the kindness of my husband patiently leading me<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">488. The fruit of the Spirit is: <b>goodness</b> – <b><a href="http://esv.scripturetext.com/psalms/112.htm">Blessed is the
man who fears the Lord</a></b> who greatly delights in his commandments<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">489. The fruit of the Spirit is: <b>faithfulness</b> – He will never leave me
nor forsake me<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">490. The fruit of the Spirit is: <b>gentleness</b> – He is not harsh, but lives
with his wife in an understanding way<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">491. The fruit of the Spirit is: <b>self-control</b> – God gives him the wisdom
to live a Spirit filled life<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">492. Thirty-six years ago he asked me
to spend the rest of my life with him<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">493. Thirty-five years ago – we married<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">494. Thirty-one years ago we began our
family<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">495. Three-and-a-half years ago he gave
away the first daughter to marriage – adding a son<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">496. This summer he will give away a
fourth daughter to marriage <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span class="MsoSubtleReference">497. This summer we will be blessed
with a grandchild<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">498. Our life together continues to
shift and change – we don’t know what our future holds, but we know Who holds
our future<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">499. He loves me well<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="MsoSubtleReference">500. Praise the Lord – his heart is
firm, trusting the Lord (Psalm 112)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-75011196377615900112012-02-11T16:21:00.000-08:002012-02-11T16:21:00.612-08:00Nice Girls Don't Change the World<br />
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I read a new <a href="http://willowcreek.com/wca_prod.asp?invtid=PR27821">book</a> not long ago ... it was by chance I came upon it. I read it in about 30 minutes from beginning to end. When finished, I told my husband, "I could have written this." The author seemed to know my story. </div>
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<i>"Nice Girls are taught early that serving God means earning God's love and sacrificing oneself to meet the needs of others. Unfortunately, after living a life she thought was what God demanded, her husband wanted, her kids needed, and her church expected, Lynne Hybels felt utterly lost - both to herself and to God. </i></div>
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<a href="http://bks8.books.google.com/books?id=fUJsAcETUoUC&printsec=frontcover&img=1&zoom=1&edge=curl" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="Front Cover" border="0" height="200" src="http://bks8.books.google.com/books?id=fUJsAcETUoUC&printsec=frontcover&img=1&zoom=1&edge=curl" width="140" /></a><br />
Lynn found herself depressed and depleted in energy and faith. She realized she was serving the God of her childhood - a demanding God who drained everything out of her. She needed to get off the treadmill of trying to earn his approval. So, she stopped. Everything.<br />
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Throughout these short pages, Lynn describes her questions and life as she journeys to wellness in Christ. Her story could be mine, or any other woman's these days. So many of us are living and giving beyond what is meant for us to give; working so hard to make everyone else happy - performing beyond what we should physically, or emotionally, carry - alone. Ah, the loneliness.<br />
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Nice girls carry fears, Lynn explains - "Nice girls don't step outside their box!" she seems to shout, exasperated. They don't make waves. They don't try new things. They might fail. She may even offend those who think she should just .... be .... nice! <br />
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Lynn hits the wall, 'crashes' .... and .... does nothing. She is drained. All she can do is sit. And wait. As days turned to months, and months to seasons - Lynn ever so slowly begins to grasp .... God... the adult God .... the One True God. Alone - the Presence arrived, <b>and He whispers</b> -<br />
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<i>"<b>I love you....Right here. Right now</b>...I want you to rest....I want you to receive refreshment...I want you to listen to music...to dance...to be secure...</i></div>
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<i>"I wasn't the one cracking the whip....telling you to work harder....or made you feel guilty when you relaxed. <b>I was the one</b> who saw you, who knew you....who longed to restore your energy."</i></div>
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The story does not end here. Lynn's journey is her own, but she has paved the way for me, and other women like me, to heal and grow into who God has created in us to be. This is where I want to spend some time pondering. <br />
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I asked my husband to read this book....for me....to understand my troubled heart. He did...and he does. </div>
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</div>Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-88877343484926517192012-02-04T12:19:00.000-08:002012-02-04T12:22:15.090-08:00A Gift of Grand Proportions<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixAibCPXG1YWuVDzTtNiBQWbXxSRQMtQa_tDO8DVwl4A0FTr7mYQNIjPGese1cZo9BE8ZAH6jGHdQrhjAz_c5ILFE-W7igCbDdeoYTieN_Ohb-2DBcI5heMuVAvlTLYMCCjyJsr17ukA8/s1600/IMAG0240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixAibCPXG1YWuVDzTtNiBQWbXxSRQMtQa_tDO8DVwl4A0FTr7mYQNIjPGese1cZo9BE8ZAH6jGHdQrhjAz_c5ILFE-W7igCbDdeoYTieN_Ohb-2DBcI5heMuVAvlTLYMCCjyJsr17ukA8/s320/IMAG0240.jpg" width="320" /></a>This week we received the much anticipated news....we are to be Grandparents! Me, a Grandmother. Friends already blessed by this title assured me it would come. I know - and I believed them. The waiting is always the test of patience.<br />
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I'm seeing my own baby girl - all grown up - wrapping her own thoughts around this new life within her. My daughter - a mother.<br />
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How did we get here so fast? Was it only 27 summers ago when our fourth child joined our growing family?<br />
<a name='more'></a>Always the quiet observing child, she loved on her big brother, just 13 months older....remaining pals all these years. She loved to hug and snuggle. As a budding young woman she enjoyed children. At age 10 she became a "Mother's Helper", slipping into the hearts of a family, learning important skills to carry her through to her young adult years. A swim instructor patiently encouraging fearful children to put their faces in the water, a swim team coach pushing just enough so as to celebrate new goals reached, a Math teacher in Central Asia, a Jr. High leader to kids that stole her heart...until that special "Someone" entered her life.<br />
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How quickly time flies...how did we get here....so fast? I can scarcely wrap my brain around it all. A Grandchild....nestled in my daughter's protective body. Now, she will carry the next generation into our lives.<br />
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The Bible holds one of my favorite Psalms...<br />
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<br /></div>
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<i>Behold, children are a heritage from the LORD,</i></div>
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<i>the fruit of the womb a reward.</i></div>
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<i>Like arrows in the hand of a warrior</i></div>
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<i>are the children of one's youth.</i></div>
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<i>Blessed is the man</i></div>
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<i>who fills his quiver with them!</i></div>
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<i>He shall not be put to shame</i></div>
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<i>when he speaks with his enemies in the gate.</i></div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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I have no greater joy than to hear that my children are walking in the truth (3 John 4)</div>
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-70279548671103872322012-01-30T14:45:00.000-08:002012-01-30T16:31:52.941-08:00A Gift Even in Sickness and in Health<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2aHa4r2Jb68oYstB3DTYJbMoiv2t0Gn_edbb1BTKSTi_vZ92XckfHFyBTXZHW4Rh1KhkhLpHS9-jUMbxtHh7H5Z4DjXZQRvczukLKuZJz_4z8XkdaCLMDhu2ek3QxDKGVLvyiOtUAdw/s1600/IMAG0228.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhL2aHa4r2Jb68oYstB3DTYJbMoiv2t0Gn_edbb1BTKSTi_vZ92XckfHFyBTXZHW4Rh1KhkhLpHS9-jUMbxtHh7H5Z4DjXZQRvczukLKuZJz_4z8XkdaCLMDhu2ek3QxDKGVLvyiOtUAdw/s320/IMAG0228.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
We decided to take a few days and head to the coast. We love the Oregon beaches, and are so blessed to live as close as we do. There is a cottage we enjoy; affordable, quiet, close to the shores. It was available, so we packed up and left.<br />
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Even though we've been married 36 years (wow! how did that happen??), we don't weary of being together. No doubt - we do have life struggles and disagreements - but, being together is paramount. And yet, it's a challenge to keep that as priority. So, heading to the beach - by ourselves - for just a couple days - is important.<br />
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The weather couldn't have been nicer for a January trip. Clear skies with a few scattered clouds - sunny - and comfortably warm, with just a twinge of chill in the light breeze. Ahhh....the ocean! The tides were perfect with the waves in constant rolling motion. What joy!<br />
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With all this going for us - it soon became apparent someone was coming down with something....and fast. Expectations dashed - a direct hit to the week. Sleepless nights - foggy head - the usual aches and pains. After our two days, we returned home to continue recovery. And, life picked up where we left it.....the daily just doesn't slow down because you're sick. <br />
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<a name='more'></a>Over the years I've seen what a contrast Ron and I are when each other is sick. Unfortunately over the years, I've had some major health issues which required major attention. But, I'm the type that likes to mend on my own. Just let-me-be is my attitude. Ron is a precious Mercy when it comes to these issues. So much so, that he is ever attentive. It's hard sometimes to receive his generous heart. It's how I'm wired.<br />
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On the other hand - Ron gets sick and he suffers terribly. Being sick interrupts his work. Interrupts his thinking. He goes to bed - and sleeps - and sleeps. I'm not gracious. I leave him alone. I'm jealous of his sickness - it takes away any coveted time together. <br />
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It's always a balance in life expectations.<br />
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But, most of the time we are very healthy, considering where we are in life. We are thankful and blessed to have good health and a healthy marriage. In these autumn years we do experience small, but not insignificant, interruptions to our health. These take us by surprise. What will this require of us as we continue to age? Will we still remain supportive and strong with one another? For me - I am most impatient. I want my husband to remain strong and attentive. I want him to always be available. But, what if he needs me? Lately, our wedding vows.<i> in sickness and in health,</i> are becoming more reality to live out. <br />
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Upon hearing of friends who have cancer, broken bones taking months to heal, loss of spouses and other....I asked, <i>"I wonder what our winter lives will hold?" </i>Ron's assuring words came. "<i>By God's grace we will see it through." </i>By God's grace....His grace is sufficient.<br />
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This week I read something <a href="http://www.aholyexperience.com/2012/01/the-4-minute-marriage-habit-how-to-make-2012-the-year-you-fall-madly-in-love-all-over-again/?utm_source=feedburner&utm_medium=email&utm_campaign=Feed%3A+HolyExperience+%28Holy+Experience%29">most encouraging</a> refreshing my heart. To love - and keep loving - takes effort. It's an act of will - a selfless act. We just never know what unexpected things will come our way. I'm still learning after 36 years - because, those challenges never are the same. <br />
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Today, my husband went on an early morning run....I did my three-mile walk. We had lunch with three of our kids, we held hands. Our health is good today. We are still in love.....deeper than when we began - we are thankful for this precious gift - each other.<br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-11573989791761930462012-01-16T18:42:00.000-08:002012-01-16T18:42:42.791-08:00A Gift of Convenience<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphYnp_G6199z6jKSCkVSJrrdcSuBUUUnh4MW8KliX_apL4MewWn1_RPQsWcnwItJN1IbYkgrTXoCdLSUDyGJhN7BIutMyIgR_ayTBD0VIEoi2DKCQkkd0HtOSIdrA6YmBqbGBhIX4oiE/s1600/IMAG0224.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjphYnp_G6199z6jKSCkVSJrrdcSuBUUUnh4MW8KliX_apL4MewWn1_RPQsWcnwItJN1IbYkgrTXoCdLSUDyGJhN7BIutMyIgR_ayTBD0VIEoi2DKCQkkd0HtOSIdrA6YmBqbGBhIX4oiE/s320/IMAG0224.jpg" width="191" /></a></div>
"Are you available today, say, about 5:30?" My young friend asked on the other end of the phone.<br />
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"I believe so....what's up?" I reply<br />
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"I have a meeting tonight and the week is going to be crazy, so, I was wondering if we could meet for <a href="http://www.taooftea.com/teahouses.php">tea</a>. I thought you might like the place."<br />
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"MmmM, sounds good....I think it ought to be fine. Let me pull some things together. I'll look forward to seeing you later."<br />
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I did wonder what was on her mind, but figured it was important since she wanted to meet at that particular time. I needed to get dinner going for the rest of the household before leaving. Lasagna - that's easy enough. So, once assembled (non-cooked noodle style) and in the oven, I let those at home know when the oven timer goes off, it's "dinner" and I'd be home later.<br />
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I drove to the tea house - in the dark - in the rain - in traffic. A somewhat familiar part of town, but I had never seen this particular establishment before. I hate it when I'm looking for a place, driving slower than usual, and there's someone following close behind me - all while looking for a parking spot. Besides it being dark, raining....and, in this neighborhood...lots of foot traffic, fortunately there wasn't too much car traffic on this particular street. Yet, I did have to drive around the blocks (notice the plural) several times before a parking spot opened up right in front of the tea house!! Nice!<br />
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The tea house, it was full. I looked around - there she was - waiting at a table. The atmosphere transported me to some part of Asia - it was decorated so ethnically. If we didn't look out the window to the traffic we could feel like we were remotely somewhere else. Very relaxing; comforting. I settled in.<br />
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"So, how are you?" I asked, looking over the extensive tea menu! There were so many appealing choices. We made our choices and split a special treat.<br />
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She told me about her day, how the week was looking and then, "I'm working on learning it's ok to go ahead and as someone to get together, even if I think they might be too busy or inconvenienced," she explained. "Sometimes it's hard to think past the 'busy' and just make the invitation. So, I wanted to spend some time with you even though I know your days are full and you might not have time...."<br />
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Funny, as my mind processed her comments....I didn't even feel I was inconvenienced. It took a little adjusting, but I felt there was a reason she called. And, here it was....she wanted to spend time with me!<br />
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Inconvenienced? Not a chance. <br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-2021912042269875992012-01-09T09:12:00.000-08:002012-01-09T12:59:08.750-08:00A Gift Remembered<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDN68fOMXQAJSTxRzmrE9j3DiENXaU9NjVnZAjGZ2refYmFVPqxsfOXbjJNOt8OEgc49ms76GOl92K7mdoAZay7qesEpMNUzX3dcF8t5318sxxTO9MBXuEULDdPgBiwRjFWt2F6La7JKg/s1600/P0003600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDN68fOMXQAJSTxRzmrE9j3DiENXaU9NjVnZAjGZ2refYmFVPqxsfOXbjJNOt8OEgc49ms76GOl92K7mdoAZay7qesEpMNUzX3dcF8t5318sxxTO9MBXuEULDdPgBiwRjFWt2F6La7JKg/s320/P0003600.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
Having Eric home with us lately has been more than good. My mother's heart is full.<br />
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We've talked about so many things these last several weeks. Then, one day our conversation turned and took me by surprise. Eric said he hadn't heard me play the piano since he's been home.<br />
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Sitting across from him, a lump caught in my throat and something tugged at my soul. I said, "Oh, I haven't played in quite some time .... not since...well, things have changed."<br />
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He said, "I always liked hearing you play." Now, <i>this</i> was a surprise! "Really?" I don't remember him ever telling me before. He went on to say it brought a comfort to the house when I would sit at the piano while he was doing school, or drawing, or just being at home.<br />
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Eric grinned - his eyes twinkled. "You should play, Mom....now." I laughed as I struggled to keep the tears from spilling over. "Really?"<br />
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I'm not an accomplished pianist. I'm one who enjoys my own private concerts of reflection and worship. I once relished the times from sitting at those keys....and....just....play. It's been awhile.<br />
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Playing the piano came fairly natural to me. There were family get-togethers while growing up. Fiddles, guitars, banjos, piano. I learned to read music pretty much on my own - with a few helpful hints from my dad and uncle. My cousins and I would take turns playing the keys while others sang over our shoulder. It was great fun.<br />
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This grew into my teen years where I spent hours at home after school - relaxing at the keyboard. My mom told me she missed this after I moved away. I know - I feel the same about my own daughter no longer playing in our home. <br />
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There were times I would accompany the youth choirs and soloists. Later, as an adult, I would help out with various worship services and the like. I enjoyed it for a time, but began to lose the confidence I had while young. Somehow I began comparing myself with those 'better', or making too many mistakes...or...or..... My joy turned to sorrow and serious inadequacy. The fulfillment of worship was affected and I withdrew from music altogether. My piano now stands in our living room - quiet.<br />
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Eric's sweet question to me is a wake up call. A unique gift - to me - to worship. Sweet worship through the keys of my piano. Long ago tunes bring tears of remembrance. Release of the day's tensions and encouragement of hope. <br />
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It has been said, <i>Music engages the soul</i>. I believe it. I need it. Eric's words have touched me to my core. God's gift.<br />
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7476926221603136644.post-25654231818956381972011-11-29T09:01:00.001-08:002011-11-30T23:17:30.712-08:00Are You a Jesus Follower?<br />
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We had a great instructor last night at our <a href="http://www.perspectives.org/">Perspectives</a> class. His topic regarded church planting in parts of the world with zero exposure to Christ. </div>
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In that discussion he brought something to our attention:</div>
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U.S. citizens often travel outside our borders - say, to the east - where the assumption is we are Christian. Go to China and they will ask openly, "Are you Christian?" They ask because they are interested in our culture. Travel to Central Asia and they will look upon you with suspicion because you are from the west, a Christian. U.S. citizens, Christian or not - are labeled <i>Christian</i> because it's our culture.<br />
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In most parts of the world, religion identifies your culture. To be Thai is to be Buddhist, to be Indian is to be Hindu, to be Afghan is to be Muslim, and to be Chinese - well, you are Communist. <br />
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So, when our instructor shared about a particular conversation with a Muslim, he told the man he was a <b><i>follower of Jesus.</i></b><br />
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This caught in his throat.<br />
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It's one thing to say, yes, I'm a Christian. But, quite another to say, I'm a follower of Jesus. Just that small phrase applies a stronger conviction. Saying we are Christian brings images of a church-goer, an evil crusader, a hypocrite, a person of hate, rules, legalism. Not many good adjectives. But, try telling someone you are a follower of Jesus. What happens to you? To your audience?<br />
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Do I follow Jesus? Really?<br />
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"<i>Then Jesus told his disciples, 'If anyone would come after me, let him <b>deny himself</b> and <b>take up his cross</b> and <b>follow me</b>."</i></div>
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Matthew 16:24</div>
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Crucifixion is a shocking metaphor for discipleship, isn't it? </div>
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A disciple must deny himself, take up his cross - embrace God's will, no matter the cost - and follow Christ.</div>
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When our instructor explained the difference between being a Christian and a follower of Jesus to his Muslim friend, a miraculous thing happened - this Muslim began sharing with his suspicious friends, in their language, - the difference! All this before he even embraced Christ as his own.</div>
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I want to be a follower of Jesus - to see lives transformed - including mine.</div>
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<br />Sandihttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09383468840543851931noreply@blogger.com0