tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-79496032209049729682024-02-02T08:50:46.486-05:00the only way to eat an elephant...one bite at a timebanning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.comBlogger136125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-34379441209590214142013-08-16T12:11:00.001-04:002013-08-16T12:11:15.154-04:00strange craving...there are some things that just don't belong together. <br />
<br />
apple juice and mashed potatoes...for instance. <br />
<br />
yeah, i know. ick. <br />
<br />
that was my first thought too...but i couldn't deny that i had a strong craving for that odd combination.<br />
<br />
you know what my second thought was? "oh Lord...certainly i'm not pregnant...right?!"<br />
<br />
i'm not. <br />
(God knows i can only handle what i have and while His grace would be sufficient...i'm not sure my faith would be.)<br />
<br />
so i shrugged, told my husband, had a good laugh about it and moved on with my day.<br />
<br />
fast forward to my grocery night with my mentor. i'm going down the aisles (grocery shopping is like therapy for me) and i come to the juice aisle. the apple juice is on my left and i am reminded of my strange craving earlier in the week. then i look to my left and i see the boxed mashed potatoes. i'm like "you've got to be kidding me. God? i'm listening if you happen to have something to say with all this."<br />
<br />
...so...<br />
<br />
all that for this:<br />
<br />
there are some things that just don't belong together. <br />
<br />
apple juice and mashed potatoes...for instance.<br />
<br />
...BUT...<br />
<br />
i have this amazing recipe that incorporates the two flawlessly. it's one of my favorite winter meals because you just dump a ton of stuff in the crock pot and let'er go...and it's hearty and delish and probably not what i'd call 'healthy eating'...but i can always blame the extra rolls on the sweaters i wear.<br />
<br />
then i started thinking there are lots of recipes like that. recipes that take two ingredients that don't belong together and blends them with other flavors to make something really wonderful. now...without those other flavors...it really is gross. it's all those other ingredients plus a genius recipe and/or the hands of a master chef.<br />
<br />
...so...<br />
<br />
how does that relate to my life...right now?<br />
<br />
i'm going to be transparent. i do not like dealing with conflict. not that i'm afraid of it...i'm actually quite a diplomat. but it stresses me out and there are too many other important things in my life to deal with...so i generally just create a great distance between me and conflict.<br />
<br />
so...when i am in ministry leadership and there are amazing women that have strong personalities that just don't belong together...i would like to be involved as little as possible. <br />
<br />
i feel like God was telling me very clearly that in those situations. those two amazing women that seem to not mesh...they are just ingredients in His kitchen. they are the apple juice and mashed potatoes. <br />
<br />
what they need is the hands of the Master Chef taking them and bringing them together into something beautiful...and what He needs for that...is other ingredients. people...like me. so maybe i'm the cardamom...or maybe i'm the pork... i don't know...but as much as i would like to avoid the stress...i need to just jump into the pot and let God do what He wants.<br />
<br />
yum!<br />
<br />
<br />
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-20112026279505396732013-06-24T09:06:00.000-04:002013-06-24T09:06:49.388-04:00just like riding a bikea friend recently posted this to fb...<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFMkmADyunUmcl71NIGkawANtjUiWJTMGtbGwphPnxyOoyquV3KwZtg0HoeBn74J-MpPpzmA6fxiPpe2unbotj-oQu8D1jmjSXWp9wv2DP13IZHXmnt1Ky3gcy6Oewfe8yyf6ef5AK8RW/s1600/936447_10151353806416770_456636365_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCFMkmADyunUmcl71NIGkawANtjUiWJTMGtbGwphPnxyOoyquV3KwZtg0HoeBn74J-MpPpzmA6fxiPpe2unbotj-oQu8D1jmjSXWp9wv2DP13IZHXmnt1Ky3gcy6Oewfe8yyf6ef5AK8RW/s320/936447_10151353806416770_456636365_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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do you remember the first time you rode a bike?<br />
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i lived in a neighborhood that was a big circle and my friends and i would go 'round and 'round all summer long...stopping at each of our houses for ice-pops...<br />
<br />
with the wind whipping my hair and the sweet smell of summer...and the sound of the beads on the spokes...i can almost hear it...'clink-it-a, clink-it-a, clink-it-a, clinkit-a clinkit-a, clinkita clinkita clinkita, whirrrrrrrrrrrr' ...once you got going fast enough they didn't make a sound.<br />
<br />
i loved riding my bike. <br />
<br />
but i grew up and stopped riding...now i don't even own one...<br />
<br />
i sat on one at a store the other day...<br />
<br />
it was really uncomfortable. i thought to myself...how in the world did i ever enjoy this?<br />
<br />
sigh.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
once again, Father God revealed how much that has happened in my faith.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
i used to relish sharing Jesus with those around me. it wasn't eloquent or probably even graceful...but it was very honest. i just bubbled over. people probably thought i was nuts...but i didn't care. i was just so completely in love with Jesus. and it was contagious. people that started out as cynical became curious...people that started out as curious became enthralled...people that started out as enthralled became completely consumed with their own love affair with Father God. and it didn't actually have anything to do with me...which is what made it more beautiful.</div>
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</div>
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and then i grew up.</div>
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</div>
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i stopped sharing Jesus.</div>
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</div>
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i stopped looking like a fool.</div>
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</div>
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i still love Jesus...but i guess i'm just not as quick to share.</div>
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</div>
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recently i encouraged a stranger to seek God.</div>
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</div>
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it felt weird. and made me sad. what has happened to me? </div>
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</div>
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</div>
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'it's just like riding a bike' is a common expression.</div>
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...it usually means that you never forget how to do it...or that it's easy to pick up again after you've forgotten...</div>
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</div>
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so...i'm just going to have to put my feet back on those pedals and ride again...</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
...'clink-it-a, clink-it-a, clink-it-a, clinkit-a clinkit-a,</div>
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clinkita clinkita clinkita, whirrrrrrrrrrrr'... </div>
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</div>
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-52256573268712302642013-06-24T08:42:00.002-04:002013-06-24T08:42:44.475-04:00vindicate me.God's faithfulness...as always...blows me away all over again.<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
Psalm 26:1</div>
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Vindicate me, <i><span class="small-caps">Adonai</span></i>, for I have lived a blameless life;</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
unwaveringly I trust in <i><span class="small-caps">Adonai.</span></i></div>
<div>
<i><span class="small-caps"></span></i> </div>
<div>
<span class="small-caps">well...the truth is...i'm far from blameless...but i do trust in God more than anything else in the whole wide world.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="small-caps"></span> </div>
<div>
<span class="small-caps">and He comes to my rescue and protects me...even before i ask...in fact...often before i even realize i need Him.</span></div>
<div>
<span class="small-caps"></span> </div>
<div>
<span class="small-caps"></span> </div>
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-3765356611003048442013-04-27T08:21:00.002-04:002013-04-27T08:21:45.969-04:00fun fat girl<br />
well...i just had a realization...and i needed to process...so if you'll allow me...<br />
<br />
i am a fun fat girl. <br />
i like to bake cookies.<br />
i usually go for a second brownie.<br />
i make people laugh with my rebellious attitude toward my 'points'.<br />
corpse pose and child's pose are my favorite.<br />
(for the non-yoga set that translates to lying on the floor...not moving...)<br />
<br />
i am not lazy. <br />
i even sort of like my 'curvy' figure. (that's a word fat girls use to feel better about themselves...lol!<br />
<br />
honestly...i don't have a huge issue with my weight. i am awesome. Jesus loves me. that's all i need.<br />
<br />
ok...but i'm not at a healthy place...and i just turned 30. so i probably should make some baby steps toward getting myself under control. <br />
<br />
i have 2 major struggles though. 1 of them is jiggling. i can't handle it. when i jog down the road and my belly jiggles my pants off... ...or even better... ...jumping jacks... ...BAHAHAHA!<br />
<br />
secondly...i'm a fun fat girl...<br />
like someone who is a really fun drunk gets addicted to the way alcohol impacts their interactions i really like the way my attitude toward indulgence and my body colors my relationships (other than the one with my mother...but that's a whoooole 'nother post...and may require censorship). i have a lot of friends that have struggled at one time or another with despising themselves...the beautiful creations that they are. so i try to lead by example and even though i am super-thick...i love me. and they love me...and maybe it helps them love themselves a little more.<br />
<br />
but now it sounds idiotic..."i'm fat because it helps people"...yeah...it's pretty dumb.<br />
<br />
at the same time...skinny people make me want to vomit...especially those that were heavy and have worked hard to become thin. it's like an obsession. they aren't any fun...they don't eat dessert...they are always posting how many miles they ran or how many pounds they have lost like the rest of the world should revolve around their hard work and weight loss...<br />
<br />
but...these are first world problems...<br />
<br />
go ahead and tell me to get over myself...thanks...i needed that.<br />
<br />
i'm going to continue to work toward a healthier...albeit not very fun...lifestyle...and i'd appreciate any comments (good, bad, whatever)<br />
<br />
and i promise to not post exclusively about my ominous sounding "weight loss journey" and i will try to find a way to make celery and carrot sticks fun...<br />
<br />
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-78482538911198483142013-04-19T09:32:00.002-04:002013-04-19T09:32:22.930-04:00friends share<br />
so...i have a really awesome friend/mentor...i just had to say that. and this post will make her laugh...but it's not really about her...even though it is...lol...only she will understand that.<br />
<br />
she recently introduced me to goodgreens bars...they are delish...and super good for you...and made in ohio...brilliant!<br />
<br />
she has been the source of copious excellent parenting tips...including...but not limited to... "he'll be fine." ...which a paranoid new mommy needs to hear quite often and rarely truly believes.<br />
<br />
more importantly though...she shares Jesus with me.<br />
<br />
you see...i'm ravenous for Jesus. i am a truth glutton. i am a glory to God gourmet.<br />
<br />
i am a little unconventional...and see things in an extremely abstract way. <br />
<br />
it would be amazing if more people would share Jesus...even little tidbits of what He's done thru the day or the delish morsels...mmm...<br />
<br />
you know...proverbs talks about gossip as a choice morsel...i wonder...if people would fill their friendship conversations with the main course of Jesus...maybe they would snack a little less on the garbage gossip...interesting...<br />
<br />
come to think of it...the relationships in which i struggle with gossip or 'ranting' are also the relationships that i'm hesitant to share Jesus...<br />
<br />
i guess my mouth just has to be filled with something...<br />
<br />
any thoughts?<br />
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-31586454321060734802013-04-14T13:21:00.000-04:002013-04-14T13:21:08.232-04:00fat girls of the worrrld...UNITE!i went shopping yesterday...<br />
<br />
and somehow i ended up feeling like julia roberts in pretty woman...i had money...but no one would help me...<br />
<br />
i went into one store and not a single sales associate acknowledged me with anything other than a whisper. so i looked around...and realized that there wasn't a single item in the store that would fit me. everything was made for stick figure women...(with the exception of the scarves by the register)...<br />
<br />
so then i went to the fat girl store. now...i'm okay with me...really i am. but i could not bring myself to buy anything in the fat girl store...there wasn't a natural fiber in the whole store...everything was bright and bold and cruise ship-colorful...which would be fine...but i'm not going on a cruise. <br />
<br />
what is it with the world wanting fat girls to look crazy?<br />
<br />
i ended up getting what i needed...in the maternity store...(most of my weight is baby weight after all...even if he's a year old).<br />
<br />
the associate was helpful...she asked me if i needed anything as i walked in the door...and then as i checked out she asked me when my due date was...i thought about it for a second...and then i made one up...except...i even failed at that...i told her i was due in february...(do the math...february is 10 months away...)<br />
<br />
...it was a rough time...<br />
<br />
and i won't even get into the 3 lettuce leaf salad i had for lunch...<br />
<br />
fat girls of the worrrld...unite!<br />
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-13143449382459222392013-04-08T18:30:00.003-04:002013-04-08T18:30:19.887-04:00i screwed up...<br />
well...i missed a big opportunity...completely screwed up.<br />
<br />
i took my kids to the mall today to practice their obedience in a public yet controlled setting. (we've been having trouble with quick obedience and i would like to take the kids to the zoo soon...so we needed to work on it in a place where i felt like a mistake on their part wouldn't lead to kidnapping or being eaten by a lion.)<br />
<br />
anyway...after a few hours of meandering thru stores coaching my kids' behavior and reminding the older 3 to hold on the the stroller...ask before they walk away to look at something...wait patiently as i look at the clearance racks...gracefully share a soda...say hello and goodbye to clerks and security...they were doing really well. <br />
<br />
several people commented on their excellent behavior...i was lavishing praise on both my kids and Father's grace...it was a good day. but then i screwed up.<br />
<br />
in the parking lot a woman who had been shopping with her mother was loading her expensive, clean, beautiful suv full of luxury items...i didn't even realize that all those details registered until i just typed them...evidently i'm more shallow than i even knew...(thanks Jesus for your mercy).<br />
<br />
anyway...her mother started commenting on how wonderful my kids were...and how terrible her daughter's 2 1/2 year old was...for just a split second i thought about how terrible i would feel if my mom said stuff like that right in front of me...but i disregarded the Spirit inspired compassion and started talking about me. <br />
<br />
sigh. sometimes...it's all about me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-LXGkETnTNkWICvLKYaRilQOsSniYn4nlVBG2muZfZNQUFmkS4aXs68G1DLdYSCET0MyCpuJyq7b200E50BbaKwZJ8dIwX5xfp6r-rc8uPervkqTeGUZ1HdCpDFxlu4yDwigzQf-gxhgB/s1600/its-all-about-me.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-LXGkETnTNkWICvLKYaRilQOsSniYn4nlVBG2muZfZNQUFmkS4aXs68G1DLdYSCET0MyCpuJyq7b200E50BbaKwZJ8dIwX5xfp6r-rc8uPervkqTeGUZ1HdCpDFxlu4yDwigzQf-gxhgB/s1600/its-all-about-me.jpg" height="208" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
i talked about how great my kids were...how great my husband is...our methods of correction...the hard work behind our parenting...the tips and tricks that my mentor offers...all good things...i think i even mentioned how faithful God has been to us...<br />
<br />
sigh...it really just makes me sick...<br />
<br />
the mom was eating it up...agreeing with every word...piping in with ooos and aahs...and saying to her daughter, "she's really got it right". i even thought about giving her my number in case she wanted to call for ideas...(i'm so glad i didn't!)<br />
<br />
you see...it's not that i did anything 'wrong' i was just incredibly insensitive. <br />
<br />
that poor mom...with a kid the same age of mine...i don't know her story. she could be an incredible mom with a son that will be diagnosed with developmental delays that she has no control over. she may be a single mom...or have a husband that opposes her attempts at discipline. <br />
<br />
whatever the case...it was clear that what she needed was encouragement...encouragement that she was doing well and that she was exactly the mom her active little boy needed. she needed to hear a "good job" from her mom...and from the complete stranger with 'perfect' kids in the mall parking lot.<br />
<br />
but i screwed up...i made it all about me...<br />
<br />
she probably won't ever read this...or maybe she will...either way...if i get another chance...i will not exalt myself...i will choose instead to lift up others.<br />
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-77173958368055776312013-04-04T12:40:00.001-04:002013-04-04T12:40:08.664-04:00embrace and create
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I spoke at MOPS this week...aaand this is what i said (pretty much)...</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was prepared to talk about postpartum depression…after it
nearly cost me my marriage, my children and my life…I felt pretty good about
encouraging you all…but then…I was praying and realized…you’ve all had
kids.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>And survived…just like me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I scrapped that one…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Then I was prepared to talk about re-discovering your
previous identity…and I reminisced about how amazing I was before I got married
and had kids…but then…I was praying and realized…that it is impossible to
discover my previous identity…because…it’s not like some big bad dragon has
locked her up in his tower and I have to go 4 little dragons and then level up
and fight the big bad dragon that stole her away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No…I chose this life…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I scrapped that one too…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">All I have for you is what I am going thru right now…I’m
hardly an expert…I’m right in the middle of it…right beside you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">During my affair with postpartum depression a wonderful
person told me that depression almost always stems from one thing…irreversible
change.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s irreversible.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You can’t go back so you get bummed.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Or…there is another choice.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You can embrace and create. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>…so then…I was praying
and realized…it’s spring.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">It’s the time of planting and growing and creating…how
wonderful!<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So I can’t go back and be the amazing woman that I was before
I got married and had kids…neither can you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Those amazing women are gone. Forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let’s just take one second to mourn…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Ok…so now what?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">We embrace and create.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">And I’m still figuring that one out.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Here are some little tips that I have gathered along the way.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">You were created by God…formed in your mother’s womb
with His perfect plan in mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He also
formed your child in your womb…in YOUR womb.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>He could have chosen any womb to incubate that little blood sucker…but
He picked yours.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve got the stuff to
raise this kid into EXACTLY what He wants them to be.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Cry…just cry.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>That way people know that you don’t have it all together and that you
need help.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If they think you have it all
together they won’t offer and you’d better not sit around in private whining
that no one ever helps you…it’s your own fault…admit to yourself and others
that you can’t do it alone…and when you are overwhelmed…it’s okay to cry.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Along with that last one…choose to laugh.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Every time I have gotten pregnant I have
laughed like a nutcase…(you should have heard me on the ultrasound table when
they told me I was having twins). <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God isn’t shocked by your feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He is omniscient.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So it’s okay to tell him that you are angry
with him…it’s okay to tell him that you feel overwhelmed and scared.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s okay to tell him that you are broken
hearted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He knows who He is and His
self-esteem doesn’t rely on your opinion.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>His love doesn’t rely on your opinion either.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>His love is completely unconditional,
unending and unwavering.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Get real with
God and He will get more real with you.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Lower your expectations just a smidge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A great counselor once told me ‘don’t should
on yourself and don’t let others should on you either.’ <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Yes…you will have ‘bad mom moments’…I do…our mothers
did…our grandmothers did…somehow humanity survives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Ask your children for forgiveness…forgive
yourself…move on.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Your kids are also going to have bad moments…allow
them to be human.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Encourage them to ask
for forgiveness…encourage them to forgive themselves…move on.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Model the behavior you want to see in your children…I
have noticed my kids whining…(I hate that)…then I noticed my husband and I
complaining one night…so I have to change me first.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Before I can expect my kids to change…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Take time outs.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Get away.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Even if it’s just
grocery shopping…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Have a ‘safe place’.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>One person that you can bounce your feelings off of.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One person that won’t judge…but also that
won’t let you get bogged down in gossip, lies, or discouragement.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This person also has to be someone that will
lift you up in prayer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Do not compare yourself to others.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were created to be unique and
valuable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Hand sculpted…not mass
produced.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Offer what you have gone thru to someone else…my best
friend just went thru postpartum depression…thankfully I was able to be a
constant reminder that your children’s infanthood …no matter how difficult… is
survivable.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Give other moms a break!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Have a little grace for those of us that are
still figuring things out and for those of us that are using a ‘terrible
horrible no good very bad day card’.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">God doesn’t make mistakes and isn’t surprised by
anything.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Things change and it may not
be quite like we’d hoped…and at any point those disappointments can lead to
depression…financial difficulty, health problems, behavioral or psychological
diagnoses, just having your kid not quite behave the way you want them to in
public can lead to depression…just remember…God isn’t surprised…He’s got it all
under control.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;">
<span style="font-family: Symbol; line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-family: Symbol; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt; mso-fareast-font-family: Symbol;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">·<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size-adjust: none; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal;">
</span></span></span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Pray about one or two ‘life goals’ in addition to your
mothering and take baby steps leading you in that direction…<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt 0.5in;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><o:p><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> </span></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;">
<span style="line-height: 115%; mso-bidi-font-size: 11.0pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">So…I can’t be who I was and you can’t be who you were…but you
can be someone else…someone just as amazing as she was…or maybe even better.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-39477763130023542442013-03-28T10:08:00.002-04:002013-03-28T10:08:26.702-04:00reflecting on His sacrifice<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
...His sacrifice...and His astounding love...</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.youtube.com/embed/lvoBY1357ZU?feature=player_embedded' frameborder='0'></iframe></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: right;">
...and nothing else seems to matter.</div>
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-45555234292186183912013-03-27T08:35:00.004-04:002013-03-27T08:35:53.696-04:00equality<br />
<br />
i'm struggling and need a safe place to vent. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
church people make me crazy. <br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
absolutely crazy.</div>
<br />
bandwagon riders...seats nice and warm...singing praise songs along the way...<br />
<br />
all the while bump bump bumping over the carcasses of the wounded, broken and lost.<br />
<br />
making arguments about what they don't understand.<br />
<br />
hurling insults and demeaning remarks...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
the lack of Christlike compassion breaks my heart.</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
then in church on Sunday morning they say 'God bless you'.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and i just want to throw up.</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
the fact of the matter is that we are all equal. we just are.</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
less self-righteousness...more Christ-likeness...less snobbish propriety...more genuine humility...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
less judgement...more compassion...we all need grace. His grace.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-71350794479489968742013-02-28T08:39:00.001-05:002013-02-28T12:34:09.129-05:00hazards<br />
<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiWBtPqE9hDDkRu4gxIlyv3dmGjP7qseesfTQU5xir5AGCxsCYvjJ83ORKwAC-T6NLagyi7lEta0NtIkxXSJjuiHMpTDYArMsfAtK0Mt1yReuluL2fyUQKbIj5wmCrt_vuBwRBYpyaqud/s1600/imagesCA4SIUCA.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUiWBtPqE9hDDkRu4gxIlyv3dmGjP7qseesfTQU5xir5AGCxsCYvjJ83ORKwAC-T6NLagyi7lEta0NtIkxXSJjuiHMpTDYArMsfAtK0Mt1yReuluL2fyUQKbIj5wmCrt_vuBwRBYpyaqud/s1600/imagesCA4SIUCA.jpg" /></a>sometimes i think my kids are trying to kill me.<br />
<br />
well...not really...but maybe...<br />
<br />
every parent knows the pain of discovering a lego with your foot. legos...ugg...i resisted them for so long. the pain of stepping on a lego rivals the pain of childbirth...but you can't scream because you'll wake the baby that you walked for 6 hours to get to sleep.<br />
<br />
well...recently (with the help of my beautiful children) i discovered a toy even more treacherous than the lego...<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
my kiddos were playing hide and seek with their wooden blocks...and someone discovered the best hiding spot ever. under the living room rug.<br />
<br />
seriously...i stepped on it (the modelling of the rug completely disguised the big lump)...my ankle turned...and i went down howling. ...eh...nothing an hour on the couch with some ice can't handle.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
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but...as always...Father God was speaking to me. </div>
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</div>
<br />
there are some really obvious legos in our lives...things that are clearly out to trip us up as we travel in the path He has for us. i don't even need to point them out...there are big road signs along the way. when those things come along...illuminated by the light of Christ...they are easy to avoid. in fact...there have been times that i have laughed at the enemy because his attempts were so clear.<br />
<br />
then there are some things that are less obvious. these things are like blocks that hide under the rug of self-righteousness...but they are just as hazardous.<br />
<br />
<div align="center">
we call our friend to 'pray' and it turns into 20 minutes of...gossip.</div>
<div align="center">
we spend an hour on our knees...worrying.</div>
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we tell bits of testimony to encourage others...but they are full of...lies.</div>
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</div>
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oh how grateful i am for God's pure grace. only He could look beyond our selfishness...our fickleness and still call us daughters and sons.</div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
i encourage you today...beware of the blocks under the rug. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
walk slowly along the path He has for you...walk deliberately.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
avoid ALL hazards...even the ones that aren't so obvious...</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-56900996579907560432013-02-25T11:14:00.001-05:002013-02-25T11:14:36.607-05:00clean kitchenmy kitchen is clean.<br />
<br />
you could eat off my floor. (...my kids do every day...)<br />
<br />
my counters are cleared of all the crafty clutter that usually gathers...<br />
<br />
i was really very proud of myself...it's quite a rare accomplishment...to have a clean kitchen in a home with 4 preschoolers...<br />
<br />
then i opened a cupboard and this is what i found...<br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhlQpsFzuwVdyswEYGWZqQMGGBHo-G_MNCsxRthp-ZLRDvIn44KKZsWTu7Y3ieq3urlodHdrRdGJOJtIcc6UQbPB084KKQBe-atbHpXZkNtpbPj-QHoa1pyi8c5doLIh0OKfhOPJARoit1/s1600/_2257350.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhlQpsFzuwVdyswEYGWZqQMGGBHo-G_MNCsxRthp-ZLRDvIn44KKZsWTu7Y3ieq3urlodHdrRdGJOJtIcc6UQbPB084KKQBe-atbHpXZkNtpbPj-QHoa1pyi8c5doLIh0OKfhOPJARoit1/s1600/_2257350.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">...i can not believe i'm posting this...</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
so...maybe it's not quite as clean as i thought...in fact...that cupboard could be hazardous to an inquisitive toddler...<br />
<br />
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</div>
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isn't that how it is with our spiritual lives?</div>
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</div>
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we work hard to polish the counter tops of our heart.</div>
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make sure that we deal with the clutter that stressful seasons bring on.</div>
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we even clean the oven and stove occasionally.</div>
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</div>
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and then we open a cupboard way back in the recesses of our heart...sigh.</div>
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i remember a time when i was specifically</div>
<div align="right">
proud of how far Father God had taken me.</div>
<div align="right">
i wore His grace and mercy like a pageant sash...for everyone to see.</div>
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</div>
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then...one night...God took me to 'that cupboard'...</div>
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i flung the door open and all the junk </div>
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that i had buried tumbled down around me.</div>
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</div>
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it was painful.</div>
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</div>
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thankfully...i wasn't alone. we are never alone.</div>
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</div>
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He doesn't leave us to deal with it by ourselves...</div>
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He knows that we can not deal with our junk alone any </div>
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more than my toddler can put those pots and pans away.</div>
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</div>
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so...today i encourage you to find that </div>
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cupboard of your heart that has been haphazardly </div>
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packed full of junk that you'd rather not deal with. </div>
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open the door (carefully...very carefully). </div>
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and ask Father God to help you put it's contents where they belong.</div>
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</div>
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some things will belong in the garbage...to be forgotten forever.</div>
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some things belong neatly back in the cupboard for easy access...</div>
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remembering where you came from </div>
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sometimes helps you remember when you're going.</div>
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and some things you may need to give away</div>
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...share Father's grace and mercy with those that need it.</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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i'm going to go clean out my cupboard...</div>
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before i hear that heart stopping, </div>
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"CRASH!"</div>
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</div>
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. </div>
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-64737236930441508252013-02-21T08:57:00.005-05:002013-02-21T08:57:43.783-05:00not afraid to fallwell...my little man is starting to walk.<br />
<br />
and thru the process...as always...God was speaking to me.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as the process of walking starts... </div>
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...we fall...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
...a lot.</div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
my one year old is lucky...we use cloth diapers...they offer quite a bit of extra padding. but still sometimes...when he falls...he cries for his daddy to scoop him up.<br />
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</div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
as we walk in the path that Jesus has laid out for us...don't we fall an awful lot? </div>
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i know i do. maybe i'm the only one. </div>
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it just seems like i am always crying out to Father God </div>
<div style="text-align: right;">
to come scoop me up with His loving grace. </div>
<br />
now in all actuality my son has been walking for a month or so...he would motor all around the house as long as he could hold on to a piece of furniture or the wall. he could walk along the perimeter of each room...but all the fun stuff (wrestling, car races, coloring, snuggles-n-kisses...) goes on in the middle of the room.<br />
<br />
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it's nice to have something to hold on to...an organization, </div>
<div align="right">
or another person walking the same path we are...</div>
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but that isn't necessarily where the action is. </div>
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in order to get where the action is...we have to step out...</div>
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sure...we might fall...in fact...it's an absolute.</div>
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we </div>
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will</div>
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fall.</div>
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</div>
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but...Father God will scoop us up. always.</div>
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</div>
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so...we don't need to be afraid to fall.</div>
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-39401031972200280072013-02-17T20:26:00.000-05:002013-02-17T20:26:10.112-05:00the glass is...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
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half full?</div>
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half empty?</div>
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</div>
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...it doesn't really matter...</div>
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i have a straw.</div>
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-81011611091654694612013-02-13T21:30:00.000-05:002013-02-13T21:30:40.399-05:00time out.have you ever felt like you were in trouble? <br />
like you really screwed up and you just knew God was going to punish you?<br />
<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20ZQgUrK6hC2izGgnZgxBNHq61OY_DJdRRSFjMQ321N1RuRb1SV8iNallYSyZkV8VB2j-G5Aftx7MWLxraxE72izbYTHvRxaXKbRWAqvibtBf2uYgabuTYcp6QxU5oKJO__VZ_u3u0LuK/s1600/553551_10200310020736009_847635467_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg20ZQgUrK6hC2izGgnZgxBNHq61OY_DJdRRSFjMQ321N1RuRb1SV8iNallYSyZkV8VB2j-G5Aftx7MWLxraxE72izbYTHvRxaXKbRWAqvibtBf2uYgabuTYcp6QxU5oKJO__VZ_u3u0LuK/s1600/553551_10200310020736009_847635467_n.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br />
well...maybe He doesn't punish us...per say...but He certainly allows us to face the consequences for our disobedience.<br />
<br />
you get that feeling in the pit of your stomach...you start to sweat...you know the consequences are coming...you try to avoid those in authority...you try to avoid those who are following the rules...you want to run away...you want to go back in time...you want to...<br />
<br />
it has only been in the last 5 years or so that i have realized that all that fear and trembling over facing the consequences of my sin is sort of silly. <br />
<br />
you see...God loves me...like...actually loves me...<br />
and He loves you too. <br />
<br />
His love is not based on our obedience. it is based on His love. period. no take backs...<br />
<br />
so...yes. i will face consequences...but they don't have to be these nauseating horrible things...<br />
<br />
we can sit in our 'time out' and weather our consequences with grace and maturity knowing that they are not a reflection of God's love for us...God's love is a reflection of God's love for us...<br />
<br />banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-44469829078079757692013-02-08T22:34:00.000-05:002013-02-08T22:34:16.646-05:00love works<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi28grwmhd9y3elkEvk2QX6eBlkIADH48GemBsE4YO_YxCBV0KdztIrH715KEWn6EZuRwJ4hujowW7izrNKDx7_6QtSEK7-MjS1Ud0b8gcaJ03aOeROPPB5F800QbD3OwCQohLDO4kTtLA1/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi28grwmhd9y3elkEvk2QX6eBlkIADH48GemBsE4YO_YxCBV0KdztIrH715KEWn6EZuRwJ4hujowW7izrNKDx7_6QtSEK7-MjS1Ud0b8gcaJ03aOeROPPB5F800QbD3OwCQohLDO4kTtLA1/s1600/4.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
love. <br />
<br />
as a kid...even into early adulthood we think of love as a feeling. it often involves sex. it always involves heart flutters. sometimes it even involves bursting into spontaneous song.<br />
<br />
in jr high i got my first boyfriend...and we were so in love. <br />
in high school i had a dated several guys...and we were so in love.<br />
in college i had a serious relationship...and we were so in love.<br />
<br />
i thought i was an expert.<br />
<br />
meanwhile...my grandparents...roland and fern harding (pictured above) were true experts...quietly modeling love for me to follow or ignore. <br />
<br />
thankfully...i was watching...(even if i didn't realize it at the time.)<br />
<br />
grampa loved grama so much. he truly cherished her. now let me tell you...she was a norwegian from the northwest...stubborn as the day is long...but he cherished her. <br />
<br />
grampa and his friends snuck grama onto his military base. they were married by the chaplain...a soldier was her 'bridesmaid'. that's how their marriage started. not with tulle, roses or fondant...their marriage started with work. <br />
<br />
grampa went to war and wrote home...so many letters...and grama dealt with pregnancy, birth and raising their oldest son alone...their family started with work. <br />
<br />
once the war was over...grampa's work led to a lot of travelling. they celebrated accomplishments together...they dealt with loss together...but they made it work. <br />
<br />
in their old age...they did devotions together every day. they held hands as they walked thru parking lots. they shared dessert at restaurants. they really made love work.<br />
<br />
she took care of everyone...and he took care of her.<br />
<br />
last year...on valentines day...we had my grampa's funeral...and just a month ago...we buried my grandmother...shortly after what would have been their 71st wedding anniversary. <br />
<br />
shortly before grama joined grampa in heaven...she told my uncle... "i really miss your dad."<br />
<br />
they worked...to make love work...<br />
i'm so blessed to have their legacy...<br />
<br />
<br />
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-5790197723742487262013-01-02T12:46:00.002-05:002013-01-02T12:46:37.874-05:00happy new year!<br />
happy new year!<br />
<br />
new...hmm... <br />
<br />
well...what did i do? i changed diapers...made lunches...made dinner (that the kids wouldn't eat) so it wasn't all that new. hmm...new...sigh...or maybe not so new...<br />
<br />
i guess the new year is only what you make it...<br />
<br />
i don't make resolutions...but this year the word for my home, my family, and my life will be peace.<br />
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Bd8-KLZlsQUnUbyrVwRlvaEs67-2aj3OWPlr5I6xU83I8CC0bsT3T90ImlagI6D-hebhA8lYWzRtRsQAgWR2jSnO18IRoAa_A7bi_iUTr3-6c77XVivPNDbgHhENUKFXpKAtW4c7FwdH/s1600/4402554-3x2-940x627.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Bd8-KLZlsQUnUbyrVwRlvaEs67-2aj3OWPlr5I6xU83I8CC0bsT3T90ImlagI6D-hebhA8lYWzRtRsQAgWR2jSnO18IRoAa_A7bi_iUTr3-6c77XVivPNDbgHhENUKFXpKAtW4c7FwdH/s1600/4402554-3x2-940x627.jpg" height="213" width="320" /></a><br />
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<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>Psalm 107:29-30</em></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<em>He stilled the storm to a whisper; the waves of the sea were hushed. They were glad when it grew calm, and He guided them to their desired haven.</em></div>
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<em></em> </div>
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<em></em> </div>
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<em></em> </div>
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<em></em> </div>
<br />
when people see my 4 kids...they see a storm...a really really big storm. they ask how i am living thru it...but, just like the disciples in the boat with Jesus...i trust in my Father. <br />
<br />
He turns my hurricane into a rain shower, my blizzard into a light flurry and my tornado into a refreshing breeze. <br />
<br />
i am not afraid. He stills my storm to a whisper...i am glad when it grows calm...and He guides me to my desired haven. thanks, Jesus.<br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-B-w8pWH0PnhUFv-iAkNBYn18wk0JdN14LXni-dc4kbdL_YGqgGENlUhz76YNqJ6K0mkEsjaGX5FeKbX-s_8wwBAZWOfBFf7Sssxi1fr27gJdRzrdP8EfD73Pp3I2FJ7VJIg2n5b5ljRw/s1600/_C257163.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-B-w8pWH0PnhUFv-iAkNBYn18wk0JdN14LXni-dc4kbdL_YGqgGENlUhz76YNqJ6K0mkEsjaGX5FeKbX-s_8wwBAZWOfBFf7Sssxi1fr27gJdRzrdP8EfD73Pp3I2FJ7VJIg2n5b5ljRw/s1600/_C257163.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-34174616815758395222012-12-21T15:47:00.001-05:002012-12-21T15:47:29.663-05:00the end of the world...so...<br />
<br />
my facebook feed has been blown up with the 90's song by REM...<br />
<br />
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...it's the end of the world as we know it...and i feel fine...</div>
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well...12/21/12...and nothing yet...but i'm not getting cocky about it. in fact...i am making a decision.</div>
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</div>
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today is the end of my world as i know it. </div>
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what am i going to do differently? i'm not exactly sure...maybe for starters i need to be more persistent in my pursuit of God. i need to be more compassionate in my interactions with people. and it's going to start today.</div>
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</div>
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...it's the end of my world as i know it...and i feel fine...</div>
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-73709164531359947182012-12-20T10:42:00.001-05:002012-12-20T10:42:13.696-05:00yes sir<br />
i have never been accused of being 'too soft' on my kids. in fact...it's usually the opposite. i am a tough mom...but a loving mom. and my kids are well behaved. (for the most part)<br />
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we go thru phases of grace and phases of me cracking down. right now we are in a cracking down phase. so much so that i am insisting my children say 'yes sir' or 'yes ma'am'. not because i want my kids to be like little soldiers or blindly obedient. i usually don't mind explaining my reasons for wanting them to do things. but i am tired of the whining. you know how it goes.<br />
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'mom, can i have come candy?'<br />
'not right now.'<br />
'AWWWWWWWW!'<br />
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'please stop jumping on the couch.'<br />
'BUT MAWWWWWUUUUMMMMMM!'<br />
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...like nails on a chalkboard.<br />
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i was thinking about it though...God doesn't insist on our obedience. <br />
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He sent His baby boy to die in my place and then gives me the choice to obey... ??? ...<br />
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i just can't wrap my mind around it. if i sent my sweet baby boy to be punished for something that he had no part in...if i made that sacrifice...you'd better believe i'd let you know it...i'd remind you of that sacrifice every time i needed something from you. when i asked you to do something i would expect you to say 'yes ma'am!'<br />
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...but God is God...and i am not. (thankfully for all of you...lol)<br />
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do you know how God reminds us that His precious Son walked away from His glorious place in heaven to come down and live in this garbage pit we call home? <br />
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Father God lets us sing carols and give gifts to one another...<br />
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and how does He remind us that that same Son, although almighty and wise walked thru all that we walk thru...He experienced loss, disappointment, frustration...then He died in our place? in my place?<br />
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Father God lets the sun rise every morning...and the flowers come up in the spring time...<br />
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He lets us experience the joy of snuggly babies and the sweetness of puppy breath and the delight of warm chocolate chip cookies. <br />
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and even though He is always behind us whispering which way we should go and how we should act and what we should do...<br />
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He doesn't insist that we say 'yes sir' </div>
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...but He really does enjoy it when we obey...</div>
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-12937986954291125152012-12-19T10:08:00.001-05:002012-12-19T10:12:54.921-05:00indisputable facts<div style="text-align: center;">
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<em>"we do not make requests of You because we are righteous,</em></div>
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<em> but because of Your great mercy. </em></div>
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<em>Lord, listen! Lord, forgive! </em></div>
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<em>Lord, hear and act! </em></div>
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<em>for Your sake, my God, do not delay,</em></div>
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<em> because Your city and Your people bear Your Name." </em></div>
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<em> Daniel 9:18:19</em></div>
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i've been pretty messed up lately. </div>
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i'm not one to deal with grief well...i tend to crack jokes at inappropriate times...i don't do funerals...at the same time i recognize how extremely blessed i am. and it kinda bugs me.</div>
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i don't know why, but somehow this verse really spoke to my heart this morning. i don't deserve to lick the boots of the Almighty. i don't deserve to make requests or to ask Him why. i am a doubtful, easily confused, rebellious, stubborn, dumb...sheep. and i'm angry that there is injustice everywhere. i am angry at sickness and death. i am angry at depression and anxiety. i am angry at all the garbage that has been clogging my joy ducts... i am selfish. and i'm angry about that too.</div>
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geez i'm a mess.</div>
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but...back to the verse. God loves me. not because i deserve it...but because He's God. He forgives my simplicity...not because i don't know any better...but because He's God. He provides for my needs because He's God. He lavishes favor and blessing on me...not because i am better than anyone else...but because He's God. He is God. and my not understanding, my questioning, my anger, my confusion, my rebellion, even my disbelief...doesn't make Him any less God. </div>
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so...i can struggle and doubt...i can be angry. He can take it. He's God and He loves me. those are indisputable facts. </div>
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<span style="background-color: black;">i know that my joy ducts will eventually be clear of all this and i will walk in gratefulness again. and i know that even if i walk in this fog of overwhelmed confliction for the rest of my life...God will still be God...and He'll still love me...because He is God.</span></div>
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-83435168420639766582012-12-15T11:11:00.001-05:002012-12-15T11:11:58.350-05:00mr rogers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-27004227140884599082012-12-14T16:58:00.000-05:002012-12-14T16:58:03.593-05:00heavy hearted<br />
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...so heavy hearted...</div>
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...been like this too much lately...</div>
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i keep asking God why.</div>
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...then he reminds me...it's not really about me...</div>
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-82114868698480759702012-12-06T00:00:00.001-05:002012-12-06T00:00:23.298-05:00biscottii made some craptastic biscotti the other night.<br />
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3f4gcXQjuMZGZcNAr_MxhrExqUCGz-_t7CxE8hCy28KuaFZmIrZc977mbleIcqx4GLzRtlyiaK3Uhmzhvy1qwnwbF_9c7Ov9FEp-Dkj4ihlvzJTJh6KB5EMjca2s_7271mFQ0n5il5pm/s1600/Pumpkin-Pie-Biscotti-500x500.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/AVvXsEip3f4gcXQjuMZGZcNAr_MxhrExqUCGz-_t7CxE8hCy28KuaFZmIrZc977mbleIcqx4GLzRtlyiaK3Uhmzhvy1qwnwbF_9c7Ov9FEp-Dkj4ihlvzJTJh6KB5EMjca2s_7271mFQ0n5il5pm/s1600/Pumpkin-Pie-Biscotti-500x500.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">this is NOT my biscotti...but this is what i was aiming for...sigh...</td></tr>
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first i burned the goodness out of it...then in an attempt to save it...i scraped all the charred ick off of each piece and 'drizzled' white chocolate onto them...except my white chocolate came out in nasty clumps. my 4 year old could have done better.<br />
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they were edible...just not giftable. so...my husband took them to work :)<br />
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a woman with italian heritage commented on what a wonderful husband he must be. her family always said that if a woman has time to make biscotti it means that her man is taking good care of her.<br />
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what is funny is that lately i have been really <br />
struggling with feeling cared for. often my feelings are pushed to the side (as things should be when there are 4 little ones). <br />
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i thought about complaining, whining and nagging...but i know better...those methods just push him further away.<br />
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i thought about giving him the silent treatment...but that doesn't actually accomplish anything...just makes him think i'm going to start my period soon.<br />
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i tried hinting...pfft! that didn't work at all...my husband is completely oblivious to hints...as are most men.<br />
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i tried flat out asking for more compassion on his part...but things get busy and then i get bitter...a really bad combo.<br />
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so...i prayed. <br />
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it wasn't a long eloquent prayer (as you can tell...i'm far from eloquent) i just held my heart out to God for Him to fix it.<br />
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you know what's funny. a few days later (maybe even a few weeks) my husband asked me how i was feeling.<br />
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then...my husband woke me up one morning with some incredible news...he was staying home from work and he wanted me to take the day off. <br />
i went and got my hair cut (10 inches off and it's still past my shoulders...lol!)<br />
i ate out...inside the restaurant...and no one looked at me weird...and my food was hot.<br />
i read a few chapters in a book that didn't have to do with my responsibilities.<br />
i walked around the mall and picked up a few Christmas presents.<br />
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and the whole time i thanked my Father for speaking to my husband on my behalf. <br />
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and then i got home and gushed over my husband for what a blessing the day was...and i made biscotti.<br />
banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-44841302856898707792012-12-03T21:09:00.002-05:002012-12-03T21:24:21.926-05:00traditions<br />
we cut down a Christmas tree...<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">taken by lori spellman at henson's hideaway</td></tr>
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it's not for everyone...but it's my favorite family tradition.</div>
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what are your favorite traditions?</div>
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7949603220904972968.post-50577686405262457802012-11-26T09:57:00.001-05:002012-11-26T09:57:13.566-05:00happy humbugwhy do we stress our way thru this time of year???<br />
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we do so many things...shopping, cooking, hosting, wrapping, baking, decorating, blaaaahhh.<br />
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now don't get me wrong...i am a complete Christmas nut. i start listening to Christmas music the day after halloween...insist my kids watch or read one Christmas related movie or book each day...dance giddily thru the pine forest as we choose our Christmas tree...i'm a real freak.<br />
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however...the instant these things stress me out...i will stop. i will become a bonefide humbug...but i will be a happy humbug. i will keep Christmas in my own way :)<br />
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after all...if we are truly celebrating Christmas...the birthday of our Savior...we will be happy.<br />
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so we have to really fight the urge to make Christmas all about the 'mas' (meaning more in spanish)<br />
instead of about Christ.<br />
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banning brewdhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/05597871577042434662noreply@blogger.com1