tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41257497511334229722024-03-05T09:05:33.745-05:00Memoirs for Memories A collection of thoughts, memories and happenings to slow the busy, clarify the important and to voice the quiet whispers in my heartMcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.comBlogger39125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-78170573019544651282019-09-17T12:36:00.001-04:002019-09-17T12:36:20.545-04:00An Open Letter to my Son about Baseball and Life<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Dear Cannon,</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">It is a privilege to play this game.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I understand that it hurts to make an error that costs the team. It hurts to miss the pop fly or over throw the ball. It hurts to let that grounder go by you or get tagged out because you hesitated. I know it hurts and that you feel terrible. How do I know? Everyone feels terrible when they make a mistake. I’ve felt terrible in the past, everybody has, multiple times. You aren’t alone. Everyone will have a moment where they feel they ruined it for the team. I promise you… Every. Single. Person.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Having a sad face, moping around, getting lost in your emotions and hanging your head is NOT the answer. I know that’s what you want to do. I know that’s what you’ve always done. But today, you can redefine yourself. You and only you are in control of your emotions. You and only you get to decide how you will react. There are two choices when things aren’t going your way.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">1. Feel the error, decide to put it behind you as quickly as you made it, learn from it and move on.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Or</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">2. Feel the error, let it sink deep down into your heart and mind and not forgive yourself. Stay upset, doubt yourself in everything and check out mentally from the game letting yourself and your team down.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">No one can decide which option you take. You have to decide “</span><span class="s2" style="font-family: ".sfuitext-bold"; font-size: 17pt; font-weight: bold;">who do I want to be</span><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">?” If you don’t like the way you’ve been reacting to adversity, you can decide to change. All it is, is a decision. This is not a battle on the field with the other team. This is a battle up here, in your own mind. You are fighting yourself, your mindset, your beliefs, your emotions. Decide before the error, before the mistake, before the strike out, how you will react.. because son, it’s not <u>if</u></span><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"> these things will happen, but </span><span class="s3" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt; text-decoration: underline;">when</span><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">. They will happen and they need to happen. Why? Failures and setbacks are a necessary part of the learning process. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Let’s just imagine for a second your team was undefeated. You’ve never lost a game, your team was superhuman and never made any errors. You hit every ball at bat and caught every ball on the field. In that situation, are you learning? Are you growing? Are you being challenged? Remember how boring it is to play a team that is inferior? You love a good challenging game because it’s fun and it forces you to play at your peak performance. Our mind and our bodies only grow when we exercise it through pain. We work out and have sore muscles to eventually have bigger and stronger muscles. While we are working out, it’s hard and painful. It’s a necessary part to get the reward of being stronger. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">The same is true for our minds. We need to make mistakes and learn from them to make connections and be able to figure things out in the future to become smarter. When we are talking about baseball, we NEED to make mistakes in order to grow and get better. It has to happen. It is actually a good thing. Through that mistake guess what happens? You grow your baseball knowledge and self-correct for the next time. That error that you let turn your emotions upside down is what will actually help you in the long run. I know it’s hard to think about the future when you make a mistake out on that field, but it’s the truth. It’s hard to go through… but son, I believe in you and I know you can do hard things. When you make a mistake yes, you will feel bad. But just let that feeling stay for a minute, then consciously shake it off like a wet dog shaking dry and say to yourself, “OK, that hurt but now I’m ready.” You can fight this feeling and come up on top and it doesn’t have to take the whole game to get over it. Because it’s not about getting over it, it’s about working through it.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I hope you realize this game is not about being perfect. Even if you win every game and get 100 trophies, remember they ultimately sit on a shelf and collect dust. Cannon, believe me when I say I don’t care about the trophies. I care about the man you are becoming </span><span class="s4" style="font-family: ".sfuitext-italic"; font-size: 17pt; font-style: italic;">because</span><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">of baseball. In the words of Rocky Balboa, “It’s not about how hard you hit… it’s how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward.” You have to decide to become the type of man who can keep getting hit and gets right back up. Babe Ruth knew this well. He said, “It’s hard to beat a person who never gives up.” Be that person, Can- not just in baseball, but in life.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Are you willing to take the hits, to deal with the hurt of making mistakes?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Are you willing to feel the hurt but only for a minute, then pick yourself back up?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Are you willing to be that person that cannot be broken? Who never gives up?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Herb Brooks said, “Great moments are born from great opportunity.” What greater opportunity is there, then when you’re down? That’s the golden time to show who has the most heart. Who is resilient? Who makes mistakes and puts it behind them? Who uses their emotions to fuel the fire to fight back instead of crumbling inside?</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Use the error as a stepping stone. Put it under your feet. If you hold it over your head, it will be sure to crush you and your team. DO NOT put your self-worth in winning or losing. You are </span><span class="s2" style="font-family: ".sfuitext-bold"; font-size: 17pt; font-weight: bold;">SO MUCH MORE </span><span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">than your performance, good or bad. If you only knew how incredible you were, you would never for a second hang your head. You are loved with the passion of a 1000 burning suns… so much more than you will ever know, and it has absolutely nothing to do with baseball or anything else. When you play ball, there is nowhere else I’d rather be. It’s not because you are the best baseball player. It’s because I love to see you grow physically, mentally, and emotionally. I love to see you work hard, have great sportsmanship, have opportunities to be honest, to show competitiveness and kindness, to get dirty and be a boy. I love to watch you laugh with your buddies and get better at the skills you’ve been working hard at. I love to see you think of the team before thinking of just yourself. These things are invaluable to me.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">When your team wins, I will be your biggest and loudest cheerleader and celebrate to the moon with you. When your team has a loss and is getting discouraged and I look over and see you handle it like a boss and keep it in perspective, that is worth more to me than a 1000 wins. Because in life, you will get knocked down. There will be times you will need to go out and conquer the world when you don’t want to, when you have everything going against you. You’ll need to be man enough to fight how you feel. You’ll need to go out there and keep moving forward. Laying down and giving up is true failure. I need to know you’re going to keep getting back up no matter how hard life is.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Our priority in you playing baseball is to develop your mental toughness. The events that happen during a ball game will stretch you, but don’t let it break you. Take risks out there. Be brave. Be a fighter. Be resilient. Persevere through the losses and setbacks. Celebrate the growth. Stay humble. Remember there are ten year old boys who would give anything to be in your shoes. Some of them are in hospital beds with cancer, too weak to even get out of bed. Respect this game and all those who are unable to play enough to go out there each and every time and give it your all, everything you’ve got, 200%. Do this not just to win but remember Colossians 3:23</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">“Whatever you do, work heartily, as for the Lord and not for men.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">So do it because you have a God-given gift. You are strong, develop it. Be a good steward of the things God gives you, including your body. Feel God’s pleasure and honor Him by using your gift to the best of your ability.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">This game is a privilege.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Not everyone can play, but today you can. Remember that, think about that. Let that affect the way you play the game. Start and end each game with gratitude. Have so much fun playing the greatest game in the world. Don’t waste the opportunity to grow and a be a better you by wallowing in your feelings. You’re in charge of your feelings and it’s not the other way around. Be the victor of your mind because son, that is the greatest victory of all.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">“God has not given Cannon a spirit of fear, but of power, of love and of a sound mind.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">-2 Timothy 1:7</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Believe it! </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I love you,</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Mom</span></div>
Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-3553538395738262342019-09-01T15:20:00.001-04:002019-09-01T15:20:06.169-04:00What I Learned On My 10 Day Water Only Fast<br />
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Back in the day my youth group I was a part of did something
called a 30 hour famine. As a group, we purposefully went without any food for
30 hours to get a feel for how those without food feel. During that time we
worked in soup kitchens, prayed, and worked with those less fortunate. We all
had our tummies growling and toward the end we all felt any longer than that we
would surely die of starvation. We ended our fast scarfing down pancakes with
imitation syrup and OJ. We had done our good deed and now that was over.</div>
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Fast forward 25 years later and who would guess I would
embark on a 10 day fast. Fasting has been around since the beginning of time.
Jesus fasted, various religions use fasting. I never really thought about it
much. I know about various bible study fasts and things like that, but I just
never did those studies. I knew I never wanted to do a fast because someone
told me to do a fast. It had to be a conviction in me.</div>
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I have always been an averaged weight person. I would go up
a few pounds, down a few pounds but stayed roughly in the same weight my whole
adult life. Then I became pregnant. </div>
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My body interpreted pregnancy as the apocalypse. The end of
the world is here! Store fat, lots and lots of fat! I ate more than I typically
ate but nothing to warrant the 100lbs I gained with my first son. I went from a
fairly skinny person to a very overweight person. After I had my baby I looked
in the mirror and made a decision to be kind to myself. I didn’t like what I saw
but I appreciated the body God used to bring about my precious boy. That
appreciation and love I had for the life God brought through me propelled me to
lose the weight.</div>
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I lost almost all of the weight in a short time through
nursing and eating lower carb foods. In a type of miraculous way, pregnancy
number two came six months after the birth of my first son. I immediately
started gaining weight. I really didn’t want to gain so much weight again but once
again my body wanted to store all the fat. I gained 65lbs. Afterwards, managing
two babies and living a high stress life my weight dropped to record lows. I
was below my normal. </div>
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Six months after the second birth I got pregnant again. This
pregnancy lasted eight weeks. I had a miscarriage and in that short time had
already gained ten pounds. I lost the weight almost immediately after my
miscarriage. About a year after this I got pregnant again. As expected at this
point, the weight started coming on me like some sort of plague. I would eat
healthy foods and still gain. It was a sort of weight management nightmare. I
had this doctor that was actually concerned with my history of weight gain and
big babies. They were 10lbs 6oz and 9lbs 3oz. So this doctor performed test
after test after test. Finally toward the end of my pregnancy, at 33 weeks, I
found out I am prone to late term gestational diabetes. </div>
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So my first two pregnancies I most likely had this condition
during my third trimester and insulin resistance was causing high blood sugar
to flood my system and theirs. It’s scary to think this all went untreated.
It’s a miracle they were ok. My first born nearly died during the birth, but by
God’s grace he’s here and had no permanent damage from his shoulder dystocia. </div>
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When I got my diagnosis of gestational diabetes with my
third pregnancy, I was put on very large quantities of insulin. Several times a
day I’d eat what they told me to, test my blood sugar and take insulin. With my
special diabetes diet I still managed to gain a whopping 75lbs. Baby boy three was
born healthy, with an average weight of 8lbs 9oz. It took me a bit longer to
lose the weight, but I managed to do so. </div>
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Pregnancy number four came five years later. At the age of
34, I was on the line for old age pregnancy issues and extra testing. I immediately
started testing my blood sugar and got on insulin my very first trimester. It
was a roller coaster of high blood sugar, low blood sugar and I often had night
sweats and blood sugar crashes. All in all, we made it to the end and my first
and only baby girl was born via C-section due to cord prolapse. Scariest birth
to date as my failed epidural led me to having to be completely put under to
have a very quick delivery, requiring a vertical incision. </div>
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Baby girl was as healthy as could be. Total weight gain was
90lbs. I didn’t worry too much knowing my history and high weight gains and
fairly fast losses. However, this time was different. This time my weight
wanted to stick around. I was left at 225lbs. For someone that is used to being
somewhat thin (besides the pregnancy experience) this was a very strange
feeling. Baby girl had weight gaining issues and so I was consumed by feeding
her and making sure I ate enough to supply the milk she needed. This lasted for
months. She eventually got the hang of it. Every time I attempted any low carb
eating, my milk supply plummeted. It wasn’t worth it and I ate higher carb for
the sake of my milk and baby. She nursed for about 2 years. So for two years I
slowly lost weight, about 40lbs. When she finally weaned, it was time to get my
body back. It was time to feel comfortable in my own skin, which I hadn’t felt
in years at this point. </div>
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I went on keto and lost another 40 lbs in 6 months and then
hit a plateau. After researching a bit I came across intermittent fasting with
different options of eating and fasting. I decided to do the fasting for 16
hours and feasting for 8. When my weight slowed down with this method I read
about longer fasting schedules. In my research to lose the weight I came across
the science on how beneficial this is for our bodies. I learned so much about
cellular rejuvenation. Fasting promotes autophagy which reboots the immune
system and your human growth hormone is multiplied after a few days. I sat back
in my chair and thought, “Of course it’s good for us. God designed us to fast.”
There was this whole world of fasting that I had no clue even existed. I
believed that after about 5-7 days without food, we became malnourished. What I
learned blew me away. For example, there was a man in the 1960’s named Angus
Barbieri that fasted 382 days and lost 276lbs… no food for over a year! I
joined some Facebook groups and the information just kept flooding in. </div>
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Excited about all the benefits of fasting, I headed up my
first fast, 3 days. I could do 3 days! Turned out, it was hard. I felt nauseous.
I was in a bad mood. I actually went another day after learning that four days
helped with immunity. I ended the fast and felt proud I did something so great
for my body. That started me on my fasting journey.</div>
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I started following a fasting schedule where I would fast 2
whole days a week and do intermittent fasting the remaining 5 days. I lost
weight rapidly and within a few months I was at my pre pregnancy average
weight. I felt amazing. For the first time in many years I felt comfortable in
my own skin. You just can’t put a price tag on that. </div>
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After reaching my goal weight and going on vacation, I could
not bring myself to continue on this fasting regimen when I returned home. I
ate foods I hadn’t eaten in months on vacation and now I had a taste of it. My
lower carb options weren’t as appealing and I convinced myself I was tired of
keto and all the work it took to stay on it. </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
After a few months of eating whatever I wanted I had gained about
15 lbs. I started a book called, “The Obesity Code” by Jason Fung and my eyes
were opened to the true epidemic that’s going on in our communities, our
schools, our churches. The lack of knowledge of nutrition facts, ingredients,
is just astounding. The way God designed our bodies is miraculous. The way each
system works in sync with the others is nothing short of total genius. Fasting
rests one of these systems and helps the others to perform at it’s peak. It’s a
reboot of sorts. </div>
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One of the fascinating things I came across was the idea
that if you fasted 10 days once a year you could dramatically decrease your
chances of developing various illnesses, diseases, cancers and especially
dementia. Since my dad and his whole side of the family has this terrible
disease, I am trying to do everything I can to prevent myself from getting it
as well. After eating pretty poorly for a couple months and gaining a bit of
weight I knew it was time to make a change. I got into the shower one morning and
I just knew it was time. Today was the day I was doing this. I needed to regain
control of my eating, my relationship with food, my obsession with pleasure,
and most importantly my brain health. So with no preparation I dove head first
into this uncharted territory.</div>
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Since I was a pretty regular faster prior to my vacation,
the first few days were nothing to talk about. After the initial few days, I
was ready to eat. I was making breakfasts, snacks, lunches, dinners, more
snacks. I was still meal planning and grocery shopping. I found myself in the
kitchen nearly half the day preparing food, food all over my hands, cleaning up
food, feeding my baby, watching food they didn’t want go in the trash. I would
get more upset than usual. The food! Stop wasting it! Eat it! </div>
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A few days later I wasn’t even half way there! No, this is
crazy. I told the kids, I think I’ll just do 6 days and that’s good enough.
Their faces… my God, the disappointment was palpable. I said I was going to do
10 days and now I was going back on my word. I told <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Brandon</st1:place></st1:city> how I was thinking of ending my fast
early and he said, “Imagine how proud you will be of yourself when you hit your
10 day mark.” That was it. I had to do it. Not because of the disappointment,
not because of how proud I would be… I had to do it because I said I was going
to do it. So day after day I continued to ride the waves of hunger. Day 8 I was
in my car driving with Sammy in the back seat and I started thinking. I thought
about my childhood, my experiences, my little world. I started to weep
uncontrollably because gratitude washed over me like a heavy rain. I was
inundated with the love of God and how he has chosen to love me throughout my
whole life in spite of me. I came to terms with my selfish tendency to wander
and His selfless tendency to bring me back to Himself. His love is like the
ocean and crashes on me at the most unexpected times. It’s more than I can take
sometimes. Day 8 got me like, “I can do anything because I deserve nothing, yet
I have it all because I have Jesus.” </div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Day 9 and 10 came and I was ready to eat but honestly I
could have kept going. My body was used to the pattern of no food and was
running so efficiently on just water and electrolytes. The way God designed our
bodies is nothing short of a miracle. Our fat stores are our fuel. I’m blown
away by his design and care for us. </div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It came time to eat, to break my 10 day fast. I couldn’t
believe it was here, that I had made it. What seemed impossible was actually
attainable. I had shown my boys that not only do I expect them to do hard
things when they want to give up, when it seems impossible, when its in their
power to not do it, when it’s so easy to chose to not do it, but their mom can
do the same. She can do hard things and struggle, and still do it. I hope they
got that lesson.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
My first foods had been planned out for a week at this
point. I had made a homemade chicken broth while on my fast. I let it simmer
for a day and half. I would stand over the pot and just smell the broth 10
minutes at a time, just breathing it in. It was almost like I could taste it
through my nose. It smelled like heaven. I knew having this broth as part of my
refeed would be incredibly beneficial.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
wanted to make sure my refeed was appropriate and gentle for my system. So I
took my ¼ cup of mixed nuts and ever so slowly put it in my mouth, one nut at a
time. To say they were the best nuts in the whole wide world would be an
understatement. I could taste the deep rich flavors of each individual nut, how
the almonds texture and flavor was savory and the macadamia was bold and airy.
The cashew was perfectly salty and the pecan was perfection. I savored each
nut, each bite. Maybe for the first time in my life a true appreciation for
food hit me.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
As I prepared my chicken broth I had made, I added a myriad
of vegetable from the earth… green beans, mushrooms, broccoli, zucchini, onions,
garlic, peas, and carrots. I put it all together without a recipe and took a
deep breath in. It was wildly wonderful. My first spoonful enlightened all my
senses and once again a deep and profound appreciation just took over. My eyes
teared up because I knew in the depths of my soul that God was just so kind. He
is so kind to give us pleasure in food when He didn’t have to. Yet like
everything else wonderful He gives us, we abuse it. That one spoonful opened my
eyes to how good He was. He could have just provided us manna and He would have
still been good. He didn’t have to shower us with all the colors of the rainbow
of vegetables, berries, and fruits. He gave us intellect in how to prepare them
to benefit our bodies the best, yet we drown it in sugar and chemicals and
artificial substances our bodies don’t even recognize as food. We get surprised
when our bodies respond by inflammation, disease and chronic pain. Food. The
thing we eat everyday multiple times a day is a gift. It’s a precious gift and
it’s so easy to forget we are stewards of this gift.</div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
So I ate my whole bowl of chicken and vegetable soup and
just sat in appreciation. I wasn’t planning on sharing anything about this fast
with anyone. This was a personal decision to help with my own issues. I was
expecting to lose a bit of weight, I was expecting to grow my mental toughness,
I wasn’t expecting the greatest lesson of all… gratitude. A deep and profound
gratitude of something I have taken for granted my whole life. </div>
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<br />Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-10644661767163561442019-05-13T23:32:00.000-04:002019-05-14T01:47:30.212-04:00Through the Mouth of Babes<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I was only able to get the 7pm-8pm Walmart online grocery store pickup time for today. Tough time for a mom with 4 littles and a husband away at work. Trying to wrangle the kids in the car was enough to make me break out in a sweat! My kindergartener had every excuse in the book why he should be able to stay home and he tried to argue his point about a dozen times. I had run out of patience about 3 kids ago so I lost my composure and rose my voice to ask him such a fine question which was “What is your problem?!!” Not my finest mothering moment. I left the oldest 2 at home and strapped a wiggly discontented 2 year old in the car seat while Reeve moped his way into the van with his head hung low. I sit in the car trying to figure out why there is a bedtime alert going off on my phone. I realize the baby must have been playing with my phone earlier and messed with my settings. I vent my frustrations out under my breath in incomprehensible grumbles and finally make my way to good ole Walmart. Not two minutes down the road Reeve pipes up and says, “Um, mom? I just want to thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me my whole life.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I lower the volume because, “What?” Did I just hear what I thought I heard? Was this one of Reeves goofy random thoughts of bizarreness? (He is known for asking very obvious questions that frustrates everyone with ears). I actually laughed because this sounded scripted. Was someone telling him what to say in an ear bud or something? I quickly stopped laughing when I turned around and saw his face, how he was staring out the window. For once in his life, the boy with the permanent smile on his face wasn’t smiling. It shocked me the way he looked actually.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">My boy repeated what he had just said and continued talking in a voice that wasn’t his. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">“I just want to say thank you for everything you’ve ever done for me for my whole life. I know daddy’s dad died and that brought daddy down here and he married you. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that, but God brought our family together for joy. So, I just want to say thank you for everything.”</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Speechless I drove in silence for a minute processing what just happened. I gathered myself and choked back the tears to tell him how sweet those words were and thanked him for sharing.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">What. Just. Happened.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">As soon as I get a chance at a red light, I write down what he just said because I can’t even believe my ears. I can’t miss the importance of this. After all the arguing and dealing with such a disgruntled mom he comes up with this?? Then it hit me. That sounded NOTHING like Reeve. I mean, no resemblance. It was truly like someone else was talking through him... because maybe just maybe there was Someone talking through him. Could God, the creator of the universe be speaking life to me through my kindergartener in the middle of my mess on my way to Walmart? This seemed too over the top ‘spiritual’ to me. Did I just dream this up? There was no warning, no piano playing softly in the background, no build up of fuzzy feelings... just pure unadulterated gratitude and love right smack in the middle of my ugly. It became so obvious to me that God showed up to tell me something important, really important. Something I’ve been missing. Something he wants me to have. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Gratitude and joy. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I seemed to have lost it along the way somewhere. Turns out it was right here the whole time in the heart of my son, flying under the radar of all the busy and distractions of life. It’s been right at my fingertips in red letters on my end table beckoning me to come everyday... but this, but that.</span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="p1" style="-webkit-text-size-adjust: auto; color: #454545; font-family: ".SF UI Text"; font-size: 17px; font-stretch: normal; line-height: normal;">
<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">I am still in shock and amazement over this. I can’t ignore it any longer. It’s time. Time to be intentional with gratitude and end the negative self-talk about how horrible I am. Time to stand up to the haters in my head and raise my head to the light to find my hope and strength in Him. It’s time to trade the dread in my heart for joy. I’m so thankful for these moments in time that seem to come out of nowhere, but in actuality, come at the exact right time. He stopped me in my destructive path to shine a light on gratitude and joy. Oh how I have missed true joy. I’m so thankful God isn’t done with me yet. I’m so thankful he cares so deeply for me... enough to not leave me in my mothering vacuum to sulk all alone in all my inadequacies. </span></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"></span><br /></div>
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;">Did He really show up in my mini van to tell me there’s another way... to remind me he put my family together for joy. It was like He was saying, “Priscilla, don’t miss this.” To think that He really cares for my weary soul... what a Savior. <span class="Apple-converted-space"> </span>This my friends is why I am blessed. This and only this. Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so. He’s still gathering up my hidden ashes and turning them into something beautiful. I believe that.</span><br />
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<span class="s1" style="font-family: ".sfuitext"; font-size: 17pt;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbV4n7b04QRFTSEmF3LVRXcztqiChBx605NPNIyZI4DnPcpS14_xCwxE8gEy5j1qQ0buuC2CvRO-evFx9cReOnA2DlBZySQqlbyU6-rTKg4LvlT9Ha0WMOnX02Gy_rjRJs-mUOCC51i4k/s1600/E48C0198-44C6-48BD-8935-D700D1B00549.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="389" data-original-width="536" height="232" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbV4n7b04QRFTSEmF3LVRXcztqiChBx605NPNIyZI4DnPcpS14_xCwxE8gEy5j1qQ0buuC2CvRO-evFx9cReOnA2DlBZySQqlbyU6-rTKg4LvlT9Ha0WMOnX02Gy_rjRJs-mUOCC51i4k/s320/E48C0198-44C6-48BD-8935-D700D1B00549.jpeg" width="320" /></a></span></div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-65425292696292704932015-12-04T11:20:00.000-05:002015-12-04T11:24:52.605-05:00Does Mama Still love you?<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m not going to lie; I don’t like putting my boys to bed. I
know that sounds horrible, but it is what it is. All the talks of snuggles and
sweet moments before bed have eluded me. I usually get the grasshopper
impressions, fake fart noises and incessant laughter that won’t quit. Running
around wild with or without undies is the usual around here. After a long day,
my patient way of handling things goes out the window and I become someone I
don’t like. Hubby has taken over night time routines and I think we’re all a
little better off. One night when hubby wasn’t home I was trying to wrangle the
monkeys into bed and I unfortunately lost my cool with my middle one. I managed
to pray over them and tell them that I loved them before turning off the light.
Then I hear the middle one. In his quiet mumbling voice he whispers, “No you
don’t.” My heart sank a little that night. All the feelings of inadequacy,
guilt and failure flooded over me in one enormous wave. I said, “Yes, I do.” He
said, “Then why do you yell at me?” I apologized and said, “I shouldn’t do
that, I’m just tired and no one is listening.” He said it again, “I still don’t
believe you. I’ll never believe you.” With that I said, ‘Well, I do.” I closed
the door.<br />
<br />
Not one of my finest moments as a mom. It got me thinking though, “I
wonder if they know that my love for them is not dependent on what they do or
how angry I get?” Obviously my middle
one doesn’t think so. The next day I asked my other two boys, “When mommy is
mad at you, do you think I still love you?” The moment of truth came in one
simultaneous answer, “no.” I thought well, let’s figure out why and make it
right.</div>
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It took some conversations but the greatest impact usually
hits right in the heat of the moment when I am delivering their consequence. I’ll
tell them, I am not happy with what you just did but even now I love you just
the same.” After another infraction or a disappointing event at school, “I’m
disappointed in your choices, but I’ll never stop loving you.” After one
brother whacks another one, “That is unacceptable, you’ll need to apologize,
but even right now I love you.” I’ll tell them when emotions are flying and
when they’re not. If I have another moment, I’ll apologize and tell them, “Even
when I’m so upset that I can’t see straight, even then I love you.” I’m not
letting them think for even a split second otherwise. I won’t let them believe
a lie. I’ll say, “Even if you pull all your tickets at school, say a thousand
mean words, start a thousand fights or light a match and burn our whole house
down. I’ll be so upset with you, they’ll be lots of consequences, but I’ll love
you the same. I know you can’t understand but there is absolutely nothing you
can do that will take my love away from you. Even if everyone doesn’t like you and
you can’t find one friend in the whole world, you can always count on me loving
you the same as the day you were born.” </div>
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I mess up a lot (see example above) and make tons of
mistakes. I feel so out of my league being a parent. If I didn’t know better I
would think that God’s heart would break when He sees me messing up, but I know
the truth. He already forgave me when He said, “It is finished,” I’m in the
process of forgiving myself and trusting in His finished work. I’m in a state
of thankfulness for what He has already done at the cross. I’m so grateful His
love is agape. Is there anything more wonderful? The best news in the world is
His love can’t change. Even when He was dying on the cross the world was
shouting hateful words at Him and telling Him to ‘die’ and mocking Him- the
creator and savior of the world. You know what He chose to say at that exact
moment? He says, “Father, forgive them
for they know not what they do.” Even in the depths of our human depravity, He
loves. He can’t stop loving. Son, he IS love. In His kindness He gives us love
to give away. He gives us forgiveness to forgive those that don’t deserve it. He
gives us every good thing. He is the master gift giver. Without Him we try and
muster these things up all on our own but it always falls short. The way mommy
and daddy loves you is a small imperfect reminder of the way God loves us. Don’t
ever say that I don’t love you but even if you’re really mad and you say it
anyway, guess what? I’ll still love you- even then. </div>
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These boys of mine, they bring me to the cross. I thank God
that even in the ugly moments He shows me opportunities to grow. I thank God
that in all my imperfections He is still loving me, refining me and teaching me
how to be more like Him. </div>
Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-55427225585552955142015-02-09T18:12:00.001-05:002015-02-09T18:19:59.196-05:00Free in the Furnace<div class="MsoNormal">
Sometimes there are events that happen in life which just don’t
make sense. Events that are like a consuming fire burning up all the tomorrows
we thought we’d have. A million dreams, a thousand kisses and caresses, and
hundreds of memories yet to be had… all ablaze in an instant. She will always
have a place in all of our lives. Even though we never got a chance to know
her, her life in the womb was not in vain. She was loved, is loved and will
always be loved. She was wanted, cherished, and adored. She was special,
irreplaceable, unique and totally beautiful. She leaves a hole in our hearts
that only the Lord can fill.</div>
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Thinking about what my brother and my sister-in-law are
going through, I keep thinking about my two favorite scriptures in the bible found
in Daniel 3:24-25. “Then Nebuchadnezzar the king was astounded and stood up in
haste; he said to his high officials, “Was it not three men we cast bound into
the midst of the fire?” They replied to the king, “Certainly, O king.” He said,
“Look! I see four men loosed and walking about in the midst of the fire without
harm, and the appearance of the fourth is like a son of the gods!”</div>
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This passage gets me every time. I close my eyes and picture
the scene as the three men are violently thrown in this horrific inferno. How
even the guards who were ordered to throw them in succumbed to death as the
entrance to the furnace was too hot to withstand. I picture
the king’s expression, the disbelief, as he rubs and squints his eyes as he questions
what he sees. Then there are the three men who once were bound but somehow
became free- free in the furnace. Walking about with these free men is this
fourth person, the Creator of the universe, Immanuel. He could have prevented that whole situation.
He could have performed a miracle and had the men go free before even entering
the hell hole. He chose not to. He chose a different path, to physically show
us who He is- a God who does not watch from afar as we are thrown in these
fiery furnaces of life. </div>
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We assert ourselves and want to know ‘why’ we want it all to
make sense. We want to say, “Oh, this happens so that could happen and this was
meant for this…” The hard truth is we can never know the full picture. How can
God’s perfect plan include such horrible tragedies? We demand answers that even
if He explained it would be incomprehensible to us. I equate it with a loving
mom or dad holding down a screaming child so he can get a painful procedure
done that is for the child’s benefit in the long run. There’s no way that small
child can understand why a loving parent would hold him down while he screams
out for mercy. Only the parent knows that this pain is temporary. Only that
parent knows how much they love their child and how much they wish their child
could trust them.<br />
<br />
We throw our fists up in the air knowing He could have prevented
this pain, yet we somehow forget we are arguing with someone who laid down His
life for ours. We doubt His goodness because we cannot fathom something
horrible being allowed by an all loving God. God-forbid any circumstance shake
the core of what we believe and know about His character… that He is truly all
loving, all knowing, infinitely holy God who by His very essence cannot be
understood. Understanding His character gives us a hope, a faith that no matter
what happens; His love is deeper than the ocean. No circumstance can change who
He is or the extent of His love. If we only had an eternal perspective how much
more life would make sense. God has a way of reminding us of the truth in the
most unlikely of places, namely from the lips of a six year old boy.</div>
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My boy Silas asked innocently why I was crying. I told him,
“Well Buddy, today is a sad day.” Without hesitation he said, “If you change
what you’re thinking about, then you’ll be happy.” Even at six years old he
instinctively knew that our feelings are controlled by our thinking. It was a
profound moment as that little boy’s words sunk deep down in my spirit. </div>
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So I took my six year old boy’s advice... I thought about
heaven and my brother who passed five years ago, Mike. I pictured Hannah with my
nephew Sean playing together. I pictured paradise, laughing and unspeakable
joy. I could almost hear the angelic music as I imagined the party atmosphere.
I pictured Mike throwing the kids up in the air and I heard his laugh that I
miss hearing so much. I envisioned only kind words, peace and everything
eternal and forever. No end, no tragedies, no anxiety or stress. This is the
true reality. This heart wrenching moment in our fleeting lives seems like the
reality, but Christ calls us to faith in the unseen. In the interim where pain
and death abide we must be like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego. We must walk
through the fiery furnace and not be consumed- all because of that fourth man,
our only hope, Christ Jesus our Savior and deliverer. </div>
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I won’t pretend to know the feeling of losing my baby. The
pain must be unimaginable. All I can do is cling to the promises of God. In
times of despair preach to myself the truth that He loves us and He sticks
closer than a brother. He died for us and will never leave us or forsake us. He
identifies with us and loves our children more than we ever could. We will
spend forever in heaven because of what Christ did for us. Heaven is the
greatest reunion, the happiest, most joyous celebration that will never end.</div>
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With all that we know, with all the promises of God afresh
in my spirit- my heart is still bruised and battered for our family. Sad that
we won’t see Hannah’s bright beautiful eyes or hear her sweet little giggles
this side of heaven. We won’t see her brother, <st1:city w:st="on">Logan</st1:city> hold or try and feed his baby sister.
Her purple butterfly room will remain empty and quiet and there will be tears, aches
and pains of the deepest kind.</div>
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One day we’ll see her again and envy her life that she got
to spend every moment with her Creator living in absolute beauty and
perfection. Until then, we will continue to miss her. God help us to treasure
and protect the hope that we will inevitably forget to have in moments of
misery. God we need you now to help us remember your words, help us to hold
fast the truth, and help us to trust in what we cannot see to set us free in this
fiery furnace- believing in Immanuel, God-with-us.</div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-67996154175876177342015-01-02T00:56:00.000-05:002015-01-02T01:04:29.035-05:00What blessing?<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">I’ve been thinking
a lot about blessings lately. “Blessed.” I hear it all the time. “Johnny got a
new bike? He’s blessed! You have a couple of kids? You’re blessed! Promotion?
Marriage? Great friends? Blessed, blessed, blessed! Are we all blessed? Why? What makes us
blessed? If someone doesn’t have those things, are they not as blessed? These
are the things I was pondering while making tacos for dinner. I even stopped to
wipe my hands with the kitchen towel to look up the definition on my phone. It
read, “highly favored or fortunate (as by divine grace). I let that definition
sink in as I chopped my tomatoes and grated the cheese. “Blessed.” I think to
myself how blessed I am when I see my boys piled high in hugs and love. Then
there are other times when I’m cleaning poop off remote control car controllers
and breaking up fights… I don’t feel so blessed then. So, which is it? Are
blessings only for good times and good attitudes? Is life a light switch of
blessings and curses?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">Every New Year’s
Day, no matter the year, I always relive 2010. Receiving that terrible phone
call, looking into <st1:city w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">Brandon</st1:place></st1:city>’s
deer-in-headlights-eyes. Feeling numb and helpless I hear him tell me in no
good way, “Your brother Mike, died.” I heard it, but I didn’t hear it. I couldn’t process those words. I just took it in and mentally went
to another place where I wouldn’t let myself feel. It was supposed to be a new
year. It was supposed to be full of potential, energy, high hopes… not tragedy.
He left behind four young kids, a wife, family and friends that loved and
adored him. It was the saddest thing to think about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">A month later, my
mother got diagnosed with breast cancer. She would need to have a mastectomy.
The following month I had a miscarriage. To say the least, it was a rough start
to 2010. That year I wrestled with a lot. The hardest was watching my mom and
dad deal with the grief of losing their son. How they would sit around reliving
his childhood, breaking out the old pictures, remembering all the stories:
funny, ridiculous, scary. Raw unfiltered emotions flying… it was a year of
tears, change, new normals, and rolling with the punches. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">I had to know,
what was considered a blessing in God’s perspective? Are we still blessed when
we go through hard times? When I came across Matthew 5, it hit me like a ton of
bricks… </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><i>He is our blessing and if He lives in us, we will always be blessed no
matter what happens in this life. </i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">3“Blessed</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">the poor in
spirit,</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">For
theirs is the kingdom of heaven.</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="textmatt-5-4"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">4 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">Blessed</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">those who
mourn,</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">For
they shall be comforted.</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="textmatt-5-5"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">5 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">Blessed</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">the meek,</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">For
they shall inherit the earth.</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="textmatt-5-6"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">6 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">Blessed</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">those who
hunger and thirst for righteousness,</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">For
they shall be filled.</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="textmatt-5-7"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">7 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">Blessed</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">the merciful,</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">For
they shall obtain mercy.</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="textmatt-5-8"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">8 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">Blessed</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">the pure in
heart,</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">For
they shall see God.</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="textmatt-5-9"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">9 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">Blessed</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">the
peacemakers,</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">For
they shall be called sons of God.</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="textmatt-5-10"><b><sup><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">10 </span></sup></b></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">Blessed</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><i><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">are</span></i></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">those who are
persecuted for righteousness’ sake,</span></span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"><br />
</span><span class="indent-1-breaks"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';"> </span></span><span class="woj"><span style="background: white; font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">For
theirs is the kingdom of heaven.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">Were we blessed
back in 2010? We
were and have always been blessed. Circumstances don’t dictate that. Why the
tragedies? Why the heartaches? I don’t know. What I do know is that God knows the
whole picture. I have to ask myself, “Which way am I going to look at this?”
Through my eyes? Through his children’s eyes? How about through Mike’s eyes?
Well, Mike is in heaven. I’m certain his life now is infinitely better than the
life he had here on earth. All of a sudden depending on which way I looked at
the same situation, there it was… a blessing peeking through. Choosing to look
at it through God’s eyes it’s clear that there’s always a blessing. What about
the rest of us? God blesses us too. He promises to comfort us but most of all He
promises us eternal life. Hope, faith, trust, assurance. This is our blessing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">This life that we
live now is just a blink of an eye compared to eternity. He’s created us to
live a life of blessing; to help us remember we’re blessed and to empower us to
bless others. He created us to seek the truth and put it into practice to stand
for what’s right. He blesses us in so many ways we couldn’t number them if we
tried. There’s the blessing of children, great job, clean running water, warm
clothes, nutritious food… the list is endless. But like Luke 11:28 says in reference
to someone blessing Jesus’ mother Mary, He responds,<span style="background: white;">“…<b>More</b><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><b>than</b><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><b>that</b>, blessed<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>are</i><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>those who hear the word of God and
keep it!” So, in light of Jesus’ words urging us to hear the word of God and
keep it, let’s live in the light of His blessing no matter what may come our
way this year. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">The times when
life is terribly sad. When the grief is too much to bear. Even in moments like
these, the blessing is not the tragedy… the blessing is in the perspective, in
our <u>hope</u> in Christ. Believing that He is all-knowing, all-powerful,
all-good. He is our hero and rescuer. Our love. He is the only One who can take
the ashes we experience and somehow turn it into beauty. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">Today is the first
day of a new year, a year filled with mystery to us. God holds this year in the
palm of His hands. Whatever may happen there is nothing that can occur that will
take away the blessing we have always and forever. No one can snatch us out of
our Father’s hand. What greater promise is there? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">Lord, help us to look at life the way you
look at life. Help us to be the salt, the light, the change. When others see
the way we handle life, let them see your wisdom, grace, mercy and truth. Amen.<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">Have a BLESSED New
Year my friends.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-7687626672937792712013-11-12T01:42:00.000-05:002013-11-12T02:17:27.667-05:00Thanks Mom and Dad<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZmuRgT7tOFPcJ0QRWcOmEp6-sgr_sV1f98irNdbkH3Q3xfrzCIK3pgIGPtE9Yg0hJV6Wo0bdvvt3jnvIedANTjI-3bAD0fR5Tky2ZQET1Qtg50OfTlrnheJYr9R-FI7G8bNkQyKYh8M/s1600/IMG_1769.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgAZmuRgT7tOFPcJ0QRWcOmEp6-sgr_sV1f98irNdbkH3Q3xfrzCIK3pgIGPtE9Yg0hJV6Wo0bdvvt3jnvIedANTjI-3bAD0fR5Tky2ZQET1Qtg50OfTlrnheJYr9R-FI7G8bNkQyKYh8M/s320/IMG_1769.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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I know recently you’ve been apologizing for the way you’ve
raised us. Little comments here and there rolling your eyes at yourselves about
how you can’t believe you forbade us to celebrate Halloween and how you both
were ‘so ridiculous’ because you never did let us believe in an imaginary Santa
Claus. I know you feel you’ve deprived me. Through the years it seems you are
acquiring something the enemy loves to have us drag along with us- guilt. I
have something so important I need to share with you. Please believe me when I
say </div>
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<i>you did well. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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<o:p><br /></o:p></div>
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Now more than ever I can see a little more clearly the tough
decisions you both made in raising us kids. I realize no one handed you a
manual to answer all the tough questions. As far as I know, there were no
glowing examples either of you could look up to, to emulate. This raising four
kids in the ways of the Lord thing was uncharted territory- I get that. In
light of that, I am truly amazed at the ways your extremely strong convictions
held strong against the crashing tidal wave of consumerism, culture and
disapproving pressure from others- including us!<br />
<br />
This letter is not to say that
the way you did everything was right and ‘look at me now!’ It’s a letter of
gratitude to let you know that I so appreciate my upbringing. I have <b>no</b> regrets about my non-participation
in Halloween activities, my non-existent lack of imagination due to never
believing in Santa Claus or my thinking of Easter in terms of an empty tomb
while others only knew about a big scary bunny. Not only do I not have any
regrets, but dealing and wrestling with the ‘whys’ and ‘why not’s’ of each
holiday solidified the side I chose to be on. </div>
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You presented the ‘narrow way’ and I willingly walked
counter culturally. It was never easy to be different but that’s no reason to
regret the choice you made. I realized back then that following Christ is never
the easy way. It was uncomfortable to be the only one not celebrating Halloween
or the only one not believing in an imaginary character. But looking back on it
now, what an important lesson I learned.
To stand up for what I believed in, even if it was unpopular. </div>
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I grew up knowing, feeling and seeing the ways I was so very
different than the majority of my classmates. You know what, mom and dad? That
set the stage to forming who I was and who I was to become as an adult. I
remember <st1:city w:st="on">Brandon</st1:city>
looking me dead in the eyes and telling me that he had never met anyone with
such strong convictions in his life. Not to say I’m always right in my convictions,
BUT it’s a little easier for me because you set the stage for me to walk
counter culturally on many occasions during my growing up years. Don’t ever
apologize for this. This was a blessing for me. If you’re ever proud of us kids
for our perspective or pleased with the various ways we are going counter
culturally- know that you built that in us. All those hard years and tough
decisions created something beautiful and powerful in our core. It built our
character even if it wasn’t done perfectly. I’m here to tell you that in the
imperfections, my character was being refined. My values were being tested, and
your convictions became mine as I sought to honor God the way you always sought
to. As a kid, who has convictions? Who knows anything about values and
following what’s right even when it’s unpopular? </div>
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<i>I did.<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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So, thank you mom and dad for instilling in me a different
way to go. You molded an independent thinker, someone who cares more about what God thinks
than about what my neighbor thinks. You carved out the narrow way for me to walk
and I am grateful for it. So, I didn’t get to dress up in costumes as a kid. I
learned valuable lessons- spiritual battles and spiritual warfare are real. Don't give the enemy a foothold, remember to keep separate the ways
of sin and fun and be careful to discern between the two. Be aware that the devil is real and is the author of confusion and deception. When friends and teachers
would feel sorry for me and ask me ‘Why?’ all I could hear were your voices
saying, “Sweet daughter, Jesus is worthy, choose the narrow way.” </div>
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How many little kids can say their parents taught them that?
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<i>I can</i>. </div>
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Thanks mom and dad for fighting the world on our behalf. I
probably complained and had a hard time settling the ways of the world with the
ways of God. How separate they were! I’m sure I felt deprived, envious, like I
was missing out, alone. I needed to work through those feelings to work out my
own salvation. I needed to choose the narrow way for myself. </div>
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<i>I did</i>. </div>
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Thanks for showing me the way mom and dad. What I lacked in
feeling accepted, God provided for me through His overwhelming love. No need to
beat yourselves up. Instead pat yourselves on the back for caring enough to
teach the hard lessons even when it was unpopular. I can only hope to do the
same for my boys. It’s not easy but anything worth having is worth fighting
for, right? You both are exactly what I needed to be the woman I am today. I
love you!!!!!!!!!!</div>
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Love,<br />
Priscilla</div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-47966921985567396422013-10-21T13:02:00.000-04:002013-10-21T13:43:04.145-04:00Dearest Reeve on your 2nd birthday, <div class="MsoNormal">
Today you are two years old!! I’m mixed with all types of
emotions as I think back to the day you were born</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYdgxJMVp5omyt5UsWZg79dGD09g36MuUgZAPPUPdiph9ufxXCFkkmU8iWWZthT2mAk5hYdah3Qvy1q4VV28XcWOMJc7okWWi5rPDQFjR7ZZfOyJbw6gDFJaWyZoiKl-5RC7STJzp10zs/s1600/IMG_1973.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYdgxJMVp5omyt5UsWZg79dGD09g36MuUgZAPPUPdiph9ufxXCFkkmU8iWWZthT2mAk5hYdah3Qvy1q4VV28XcWOMJc7okWWi5rPDQFjR7ZZfOyJbw6gDFJaWyZoiKl-5RC7STJzp10zs/s320/IMG_1973.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
and see how much you’ve grown these last two years…<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDXt7vEF4aq7qj2BjmBI9rNPRL2qdK6Qs2t2tPrfDFsVilfnQd9bxz0nHkdvC-KfXwno8GUMHtDYHC6IeNL-KpZ0lPOv56OXd5atUUksfVUEYXWHAui-R_3BMuoOIm6oDVToaGxiLHQs/s1600/IMG_9607.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyDXt7vEF4aq7qj2BjmBI9rNPRL2qdK6Qs2t2tPrfDFsVilfnQd9bxz0nHkdvC-KfXwno8GUMHtDYHC6IeNL-KpZ0lPOv56OXd5atUUksfVUEYXWHAui-R_3BMuoOIm6oDVToaGxiLHQs/s320/IMG_9607.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m thinking about the ways you’ve been exactly the same and
the ways you’re changing. How you were the snuggliest, sweetest, most contented
baby that ever lived</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZJQfkXB-BlE6u20NsvNV9xjvvabyMOomhWGBO_ojJ78wsWIUmJao8e920K1ZRzZe6d4dGJsxOtoDI7l3dv2n1zYomDZo8ESpuA_ouo1VTBxGFpCewoD6vGwvtfv3od9AI111B_ywIR-Y/s1600/IMG_2097.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZJQfkXB-BlE6u20NsvNV9xjvvabyMOomhWGBO_ojJ78wsWIUmJao8e920K1ZRzZe6d4dGJsxOtoDI7l3dv2n1zYomDZo8ESpuA_ouo1VTBxGFpCewoD6vGwvtfv3od9AI111B_ywIR-Y/s320/IMG_2097.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<o:p> </o:p> and how now you are
the same exact way but on your own terms.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuWvL0sMXny3ZYPfuNJLYp_o6bd3BeMwCG0A7wzNup_dURNBtyZcBCPM8a9g7L0ENeTQ7uZgMxHcg25Ay99csa8aCIuJJsT0hyIfkfdd0cWSs8wywKXzfykt6HRrtM5I86FPt6Xd7FdYg/s1600/IMG_9549.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuWvL0sMXny3ZYPfuNJLYp_o6bd3BeMwCG0A7wzNup_dURNBtyZcBCPM8a9g7L0ENeTQ7uZgMxHcg25Ay99csa8aCIuJJsT0hyIfkfdd0cWSs8wywKXzfykt6HRrtM5I86FPt6Xd7FdYg/s320/IMG_9549.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
How you were quiet and now you’re loud. How before you were
always sleeping and now you’re always awake trying desperately to keep up with
those two nutty brothers of yours.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH44W_osQH3Uj12LZzaqrlwuK-BYWaRuECL3DQP2SIK2FZ8TbwUeSwCtFQhmfkG8_qnMmO5lOAlhWvj13pq7JkVpxm87ZBOpo1BZjMATEXWn0CvpVwaphv2AFIkADIf0E0RCLXSqbO1d8/s1600/IMG_9217.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH44W_osQH3Uj12LZzaqrlwuK-BYWaRuECL3DQP2SIK2FZ8TbwUeSwCtFQhmfkG8_qnMmO5lOAlhWvj13pq7JkVpxm87ZBOpo1BZjMATEXWn0CvpVwaphv2AFIkADIf0E0RCLXSqbO1d8/s320/IMG_9217.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
You are beyond busy. You are beginning to want mommy a
little less and brothers a little more. You are asserting yourself as your own
person instead of always being conjoined with me. You are learning that
speaking up has its advantages instead of relying on others to speak for you. You
move furniture all around the house, you dump little pieces of organized things
in a big heaping pile on the floor, you lose sippy cups and hide all of our
shoes in various boxes, drawers and compartments. You stand on the edge of
extremely high edges and when you see my panicked face, you move closer to the
edge to watch in delight as my expression goes from panicked to frantic.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzmFQlrKy5uMGGI95wOd6SvwEHFK5sQxM37Lll46jW5aUipudAP7Vz2YO6n2hdbUuOw0d7tm8FFt0LjYiMomO1-iyoY6Q5l5FB5cGyh2Z8m4ItG2cRiM338rl3UbeTxOhJOAsrz8LOkJk/s1600/IMG_8920.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzmFQlrKy5uMGGI95wOd6SvwEHFK5sQxM37Lll46jW5aUipudAP7Vz2YO6n2hdbUuOw0d7tm8FFt0LjYiMomO1-iyoY6Q5l5FB5cGyh2Z8m4ItG2cRiM338rl3UbeTxOhJOAsrz8LOkJk/s320/IMG_8920.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
According to you, you don’t need help anymore with things
like eating yogurt, climbing up and down stairs, getting dressed and getting in
your car seat. You think you are so much
bigger than you are. Even though this drives me absolutely bonkers, I have to
admit, I’m not that much different than you. There are times when I go through
life thinking I can do everything on my own too. I don’t need anyone’s help. I
can climb this mountain, I can jump this ocean, I can chew more than I can
swallow- all on my own. All the while, there is my Father guiding me, helping
me in ways I’ll never know and desiring my full reliance on Him. In just the
same way you are running away from my help. I know why. I know it’s hard to
admit you still need my help. I understand a little too well my son. When you
get tired and weary, when you can’t finish what you thought you could finish,
I’ll never leave you in your desperation because my Father never leaves me
either. You will one day learn that it’s better to trust me instead of always
towing the line; just like it’s better for me to trust my Father instead of
being weighed down with fear and anxiety. I can’t get frustrated with you
because looking at you is like looking at myself. Whether in the physical or
spiritual realm, trust is hard but necessary. It might seem like a weak position to
hold but in truth it is the strongest people who have enough wisdom to
recognize their own inadequacies while at the same time relying on the promise
that His strength is their strength. Trouble comes when we think of strength and
power independent of the true source. Having faith is boldly admitting we need
more of God and less of ourselves pretending we are greater than we are. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Whether running away or running toward me, happy or sad,
pushing the line or complying, snuggly or independent, temper tantrum or
delightful squeals, I will love you the same. The same gigantic immeasurable
love I've always and will always have for you, my precious son. I would say
this is the same love my Father has for me, but it’s not even close. As much as
I love you, His love for you is greater, and deeper and sweeter than mine could
ever be in an eternity. As much as I want you to trust me, trust Him more. As
much as I want you to snuggle with me, rest in His unfailing love more. As much
as I want you to respect me, listen and fear Him with every fiber of your being.
He is more than you can imagine Him to be. A rescuer in times of trouble and a
friend in times of joy. He is the lover of your soul, baby. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Even though you are so small, your presence is larger than
life. Everywhere we go you bring a smile to strangers’ faces. They look at you
and you wave and say, HI!” and give them the smile of a lifetime. Young and
old, strangers of all walks of life just beam and have a better day because of you
sharing the love you have inside. You came to us as a surprise, a time when we
were struggling. You were a blessing in disguise and through you we could hear
God shouting clear as day, “Trust me! This is perfect! This is what joy looks
like! Trust my perfect timing!” We are learning to listen to our Father and
here you are, the love of our lives, teaching us, challenging us to be better,
motivating us to trust the unseen, to be more content, and to be thankful no
matter what. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
My birthday wish for you is that wherever you go you would
bring happiness and joy to others, just by being the joy-filled person God made
you to be. I hope that your inner peace would bring others the same kind of
contentment you were born with. I’m convinced this is your gift, among many
others. I’m so excited to see your many gifts develop and blossom throughout the years. Never
ever, in a million years, lose this gift of joy. You are, by far, the best undreamt
dream come true. Sweeter than I could have ever dreamed. Messy, snuggly, wild,
tiny-tornado, dirty, drooly, perfect. I love you Reeve Michael. Happy 2<sup>nd</sup>
Birthday!!</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_CPL_BiF2z1LjUvLVph9DIDj79e4bSADu8VGGObKymoPzwYnUrCT8HO9QSuqaw3VJUGHI2-_07UPWBYyMwiJl5KacuT4Q-qNfJOybn00pVH-Pi3duV4fyZn9dM9uFI0KRAfwrEYeVSuk/s1600/IMG_9092.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_CPL_BiF2z1LjUvLVph9DIDj79e4bSADu8VGGObKymoPzwYnUrCT8HO9QSuqaw3VJUGHI2-_07UPWBYyMwiJl5KacuT4Q-qNfJOybn00pVH-Pi3duV4fyZn9dM9uFI0KRAfwrEYeVSuk/s320/IMG_9092.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Love,</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Mommy</div>
Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-15629876942170860572013-10-17T10:36:00.001-04:002013-10-21T13:47:56.822-04:00You know you’re the wife of a police officer if…<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioO-H3j4P42T5n6UyFsD1UgrQLvNbstQ9otQBQFX7mMcDWtTOReA-Cgh8qQVa6fSuHWyQG8tYAvaq6OV9t2EwbevMkH-6U5LlS8EbUz0-ar-vDZXD372IqDhDzLmWwBLDprc7kzBcHvI0/s1600/Si+Guy+and+Can+Man+138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioO-H3j4P42T5n6UyFsD1UgrQLvNbstQ9otQBQFX7mMcDWtTOReA-Cgh8qQVa6fSuHWyQG8tYAvaq6OV9t2EwbevMkH-6U5LlS8EbUz0-ar-vDZXD372IqDhDzLmWwBLDprc7kzBcHvI0/s320/Si+Guy+and+Can+Man+138.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</div>
<ol start="1" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">When
it’s raining, you know he won’t be home on time, ever.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="2" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">You
know better than to complain to him about being hot on a summer’s day in <st1:place w:st="on">North Carolina... and you know the nastiness that lies underneath the kevlar...</st1:place></li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="3" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">He
drives his mini van like his police car.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="4" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">You
know what 10-42 means (among other 10 codes).</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="5" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">You
may find yourself on the other side of a homicide investigation, domestic
dispute or car wreck just by calling in the middle of his shift to ask if
he feels more like shepherd’s pie or tacos for dinner.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="6" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Dinner
time stories, no matter how graphic, don’t phase you. </li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="7" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">You
know all the local drunks and insane people by name and where they hang
out.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="8" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">You
find bullets in the dryer, in the couch and in random corners of the
house.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="9" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">When
the children grow up they want to become… firefighters.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="10" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">Watching
daddy with his gun drawn evokes the same emotions as watching someone
twiddle their thumbs. </li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="11" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">The
wife must work or the family just might starve to death.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="12" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;"> You never feel safer than when you’re
with your husband, mostly because you have the inside scoop on the level
of badass he is. </li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="13" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">No
matter how long he’s worn the uniform, when he puts it on he is still sexy
as all get out.</li>
</ol>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: 0.25in; text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<ol start="14" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">He
points out expired tags at least 10 times on every road trip with the
family as you sit there rolling your eyes.</li>
</ol>
<br />
<ol start="15" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
<li class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">You’ve
watched enough police YouTube videos to become a police officer
yourself. </li>
</ol>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>Have anymore??? SHARE!!</i></div>
</div>
<ol start="15" style="margin-top: 0in;" type="1">
</ol>
Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-66562561459905992522013-08-19T23:53:00.000-04:002013-08-19T23:53:57.907-04:00The Day I Didn't Yell <div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
I feel like something has happened to me. Today feels like a
turning point in my life. All day I felt in control when I usually feel like
the days control me. I woke up with a clearer focus. I not only had ‘things to
do’ but little people to invest in. I didn’t feel tortured by my indecisiveness
or my perpetual to-do lists.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I didn’t consciously prepare for today to be different, but
it was. I had plenty of opportunities to yell at my ‘littles’, yet I just
didn’t. It was almost as though I simply didn’t have it in me anymore. It
wasn’t because I didn’t get mad enough. It was like I was able to see past the
moment. Before, all I could see was red and nothing else. There has been some
kind of switch that has turned on in my life. I feel the Light, the energy. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I can sense that my current reality is shifting. I’m a
first-hand spectator on the journey my little itty-bitty babies are on… how now
they’re big enough to not need Band-Aids or kisses from Mama to make it all
better. I’ve always known that they’ll get older, bigger, hairier. But today,
that ‘knowing’ went from my head and sank deep into my heart. I heard whispers all
day saying ‘This is the last day you’ll get to have them at this exact age,
tomorrow they’ll be a little older.” I sensed that today, even though from an
outside view looked a lot like yesterday and the day before that- it somehow
wasn’t. I sensed that I was running out of time, because I was, and I am. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe this shift in my thinking is because Silas is starting
kindergarten and he won’t be home every single moment, like he is now. Maybe
it’s because I’m beginning to work outside the house here and there and the
days are going to look totally different.
I’m realizing these seemingly boring days are somehow extremely valuable.
I really don’t think I can pin point just one reason for this paradigm shift.
All I know is today I was the eye of the storm. I was kinder and spoke sweeter
words. I was calmer and got a few hard tasks accomplished. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I glanced at Silas and instantly saw myself as a little kid
just wanting to love my mom and have fun, just like him. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I identified with him.
<o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I saw how Cannon responded to a composed mom in a tense
situation. He didn’t fight back. He submitted. He respected me more when I
could control myself- I could see it in his eyes. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I earned his respect. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I looked at Reeve ripping up important papers and throwing
food across the room and I quickly dealt with it instead of losing my mind with
an emotional outburst. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>I responded instead of
reacted. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I’m starting to realize if I
cannot manage myself, I can’t be effective at managing others. <span class="apple-converted-space"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Today, I didn’t yell. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It takes a lot of energy to yell. I think yelling is not
just spewing forceful words, it’s spewing angst, regrets and more turmoil than
what’s already there. Not yelling is going in the other direction. It’s
refocusing everyone on the positive, on what they should be doing, making a way
where they can thrive. It’s not taking their sin personally. It’s identifying
with them and coming alongside of them and guiding them with the wisdom of
someone who’s been there, done that. Yelling is shaming and guilting in hopes
they’ll hate that so much they will decide to turn around and go in the right
direction. Yelling is verbal chaos. It’s like a bullhorn. It’s just loud noise
that no one wants to hear- agitating, aggressive, confrontational, assertion of
self. Keeping your wits about you and lovingly teaching them the right way is
like a song. It’s an immediate shift in a new direction within the appropriate
boundaries. It’s a lovely place where everybody wants to be and feels free to
dance and be themselves. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Here at the end of the day I’m tired but it’s a different
tired. I’m tired because I have a lively life filled with activity every moment
of my day, but I’m not emotionally drained like I usually am. I didn’t realize how
different it feels to be emotionally drained vs. physically tired. I’ll take
physically tired any day.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I hope this sticks, I hope somewhere in the heavens God
declared August 19<sup>th</sup> the day that I finally grow up and start taking
charge of my life instead of playing catch up and grasping at the coat tails of
the hurricane of life. I hope it’s not just today. I hope that tomorrow and all
my tomorrows after that will stem from the changes of today. I am impressed
with today, with this peace I mysteriously acquired for no apparent reason.
It’s probably not so mysterious after all. It’s a good thing and all good
things come from God, right? I’m going to go ahead and give credit where credit
is due. Maybe there is an unforeseen reason as well. I’m sure there is. </div>
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I’m so thankful for the subtle surprises that lighten my
load and fill me with gratitude. Thank you Lord for love poured out and unmerited
peace. I’m so glad I didn’t miss this day. It was yet another chance to learn,
to reflect and to make adjustments for the benefit of my entire household but
especially my little legacies. </div>
Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-800649604772885892013-08-12T01:31:00.001-04:002013-08-12T01:46:11.251-04:00I Like You<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: left;">
I have three boys who are very young. I have not mastered
home organization or using my time wisely. I seem to pick the wrong times to clean
and get frustrated when the tornado trio come and destroy my attempts at
putting things in their place. I try to keep them tame but they are so wild. So
wild that I fall apart sometimes just thinking about putting the little house
pieces back together again, after again and then again after that. I don’t have
the stamina or the real desire to win that battle every moment of everyday. Between
the clothes, the food, the random bits of paper and the ‘what is this thing?!’
I could spend all day everyday bent over picking up ‘debris'.</div>
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This particular day my four year old, Cannon, went into my drawers
and pulled out my craft supplies. He peeled the backing off my magnet roll and
jumbled up all my stuff. I have a thing with anyone touching the few things
that I actually have organized and messing it up. I admit I went a little
over-the-top crazy-eyed monster teeth at him. He got thrown in time out after a
ridiculous mommy-hissy fit. While he’s bawling in the tiny chair all I could
think was, “I need to get myself together here. I’m ruining my children’s
lives.” Melodramatic much? After several minutes, when the tempers and emotions
calmed down, I called him over to me. I crouched down and we said our ‘I’m
sorrys’ and ‘I forgive yous’ and off he ran. The weight got lifted off our
shoulders and we were back to being mama and boy. Not three minutes went by
when he stops a few feet away from me and announces, “I like you.” I wanted to
make sure I was hearing him right, so I said, “What did you say?” He said it
again even louder, “I like you!” I couldn’t help the enormous smile that came
over me as I said, “I like you too!” We just gazed lovingly into each others
eyes, then he ran off to play again. </div>
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I stood there wondering, ‘Why does he like me?” I literally just
exploded with anger and frustration at him. As I sat there thinking about it I
realized he likes me not because I blew up at him but because I asked him for
forgiveness. I admitted I was wrong then made it right again. He likes me
because maybe he realizes I’m human, I don’t pretend to have it all together.
Maybe he likes me because he knows he can’t do anything that is so bad that I
won’t keep on immensely loving him, unconditionally. Maybe after all these four years he’s coming to grips
that I’m not perfect, but I’m genuine. I’m not organized, but I try. I’m not
rich, but I’m giving them all I have. Maybe he said that because he sensed I
needed to hear that today. It made me feel like perhaps I’m not ruining their
lives after all. Maybe I’m teaching them what it looks like to struggle well,
to fall apart then get back up again. Maybe he was trying to tell me in so many
words, “Everyone loves their mom but not everyone likes them.” He was choosing
to like me, not out of obligation, but of choice. Or maybe he just wanted to
tell me that he likes me because he simply does. <span style="font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-78234298476967281942013-06-08T00:46:00.000-04:002013-06-08T01:07:35.392-04:00To My Can Man on your 4th birthday<div class="MsoNormal">
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Sometimes I sit back watching you play with your brothers
and think to myself, “This kid is the most unique individual I think I’ll ever
meet.” </div>
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<o:p> </o:p> </div>
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It’s true… You are the greatest mix of personality the world
will encounter. Your daddy and I laugh all the time at how you simply cannot
just go with the flow. There’s no convincing you to leave your shirt on if you
get a drop of water on it or to settle down from a major temper tantrum right
before preschool every week, for any given reason. </div>
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One of my favorite things about you is the fact that you cannot
keep a reward to yourself. You have it in your heart to always share with Silas
whether it’s a special treat daddy gives you or a treasure prize at preschool.
There are so many times you’ve asked your teacher to save an extra goody for
your brother. Whenever good news is heard, you always run to tell Silas first. I
love your heart! </div>
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<o:p> </o:p>You are so particular about the little things in life. For
example: no long pants to bed because you don’t like the feeling of them riding
up when you get in bed… your socks have to be put on exactly right so that you (God
forbid) don’t step on the ‘dot’ (where the stitching comes together near the
front of the sock.) You find only one out of your seven sweatshirts acceptable
to wear and you will only put on ‘soccer socks’ cheerfully, everything else is
a battle. You cannot handle being up in front of people for any kind of group
presentation… you will cry the whole time while everyone else is singing. Once
you lose it, there is no retrieving any kind of sanity until you spend good
quality time with your blanket (and by blanket I mean your bundle of yarn that's been loved on really, REALLY hard) in
your room, by yourself.</div>
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I went to pick you up early from the children’s church today
and I peeked through the little door window and our eyes met. Everyone was
bouncing a beach ball up in the air, laughing and yelling... and there you were
standing perfectly still just smiling your adorable sweet smile, with your head
cocked to one side just gazing at me with all the love in your heart. Everyone
was running circles around you and you just didn’t care. You just stayed
staring and smiling for a minute or two. I’m going to hold onto that moment
forever. This moment really does epitomize who you are. You don’t go with the
flow, you hold your own and you don’t care who’s watching…you love your mama! Then...</div>
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<o:p> </o:p>Maybe because you were so colicky and I was the only one
that held you for the first few months of your life, but your love for me and my love for you is something fierce. A bond that cannot be broken.</div>
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Even at children’s church when everyone was in the
middle of dancing and having a blast, you turn to me and say, “MOM! When are we
getting outta here?!” LOL. You crack me up. Even when there is a fun day
planned with grandma and it’s time to say goodbye to me, you always want to
just stay with me. Even when bribed with all the ice cream, parks and bounce
houses out there, you always want me to be there with you. Truth be told, I eat
this up! Every mama needs a sweet-as-pie baby boy like you.</div>
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There are so many things I love about you, it’s impossible to pin
point them all. You are my deep voiced, bug smashing, best bear-huggin', secret
animal lovin’, Reeve-guardin', home lovin', Mama snugglin’, non-button down
shirt wearin', use-your-fry-as-a-ketchup-spoon kind of kid. </div>
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I know your strong-willed yet tender heart will
bring you places even I can’t imagine. Your special combination of tough and
kind are just what this world needs. Even though there are times I don’t know
how to handle your outbursts and irrational thinking, we're growing together. God has taught
me more through you than any living soul on this planet. You remind me how much
I need a Savior. I thank God for you Cannon because you were designed
especially for me to mother and your daddy to father. You are exactly what this
world needs to be a better place. At the end of the day when you’re in bed
sleeping I think about the little boy you are, your quirks, your sweet and
loving ways and your determination and I am certain I wouldn’t want to change a
thing about you. I’m a better Mama because of you. Here’s a hug and a kiss and
a punch and a five from me to you baby. Happy 4<sup>th</sup> birthday to my
bronze-skinned, blonde haired, absolutely beautiful, handsome-as-all-get-out baby boy! I love you!!!</div>
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Love,</div>
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Mama </div>
Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-14697320764789137282013-05-23T02:27:00.000-04:002013-09-23T13:31:43.556-04:00The Simple LifeI stumbled upon this stunning blog the other day. Really, it took my breath away. My eyes welled up with tears while listening to the background music dance with the poetic way this mom expressed her beautiful thoughts. The way she portrayed her ‘simple life’ just struck a chord with me. Obviously she lived on a farm because everyone who lives the simple life lives on a farm, right? Her magazine worthy pictures on the site just oozed with family love and camaraderie. There is one shot of one out of her six children giving the baby calf a bottle of milk. It just melted my heart. I sighed to myself and thought, “Ah… the simple life.” When I clicked out of the site, the music stopped and I was met with the whaling of little ones tugging on my pant leg asking for milk, a snack and another piece of my sanity.<br />
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After feeling a bit discontented with my own non-farming life, I asked myself, “What does it even mean to live ‘the simple life?’” Do I have to live on a farm to claim this highly desirable yet seemingly unattainable status? Do I have to home school, have five, six or seven children or make my own bread from scratch? Is there room for my not-so-large yet messier-than-most family to live such a life?<br />
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Truth is, the simple life can also mean something different than a lovely family with six home-schooled children living on a farm. Lest we be dismayed, discouraged and feeling inadequate, I believe the simple life can indeed be attainable to anyone anywhere- whether living on a farm or right in the middle of a bustling metropolitan. I’ve come to realize that the simple life has little to do with possessions, circumstances, or number of children and everything to do with our inner thoughts, perspective and our individual and unique lens we filter life through, everyday.<br />
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The simple life is a way of thinking. It’s letting those thoughts change your life so you can say ‘yes’ to the important and ‘no’ to the distractions. It’s figuring out what to value and what to just let go. It’s about contentment, avoiding comparisons like the plague, and being unexpectedly gracious and kind. It’s being genuine, down-to-earth and letting your guard down. It’s identifying with people and moving closer to relationships and further away from superficiality. It’s finding humor in the things you could fall apart over. It’s being true to yourself when there’s an opportunity to stand up for what’s right, even if it’s unpopular. It’s having it fresh in our mind that today is a gift, a special opportunity to pour into another’s life whether that someone is our own child or a total stranger. It’s looking our hardships square in the face and shouting, “I’m blessed, I’m blessed, I’m blessed!” It’s seeing the big picture when life so often is only pointing at a tiny piece of it. It’s bringing others up when it seems everyone is hurting, fighting an impossible battle. It’s forgiving when mercy isn’t warranted and remembering life is but a breath. Make it count…. bring something beautiful to it that only you can give.<br />
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To me, this is the ultimate simple life; keeping first things first, and not sweating the small stuff. It’s constantly remembering we are not the center of the universe and letting that reality drive us to be part of the larger community where we have something to give rather than only looking to see what we can receive. It’s letting technology aid these efforts, not hinder them. It’s choosing to be the victor and not the victim in any given circumstance.<br />
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Recently an old high school acquaintance 'friend requested' me over social media. He wrote me an unexpected message telling me that he had a horrible time in high school and wanted to let me know, thirteen years later, that I was one of the few that brightened his day. He thanked me for ‘always having a smile for him.’ I had absolutely no idea that I was contributing anything to him or anyone else. In my own eyes I didn’t do anything seemingly special... but to him it was what helped him get through high school. I was floored and so grateful I was able to bring light to his life all those years ago. It was a gift to him I didn’t even know I was giving. Getting this message from an old friend reminded me of one of my favorite quotes by Marianne Williamson.<br />
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Maybe all you did was stay in your pajamas all day, didn’t even brush your teeth… but you nursed that little baby from sun up to sun down. You’ve nourished another. Find peace and pleasure in such a gift. This is the simple life. Maybe you’ve not met your quota at work but during lunch break you listened to another tell her story, and you were there, present, connecting, enabling her to feel heard, important. This rare gift of attention- this is the simple life. Maybe you’ve reached the end of your rope emotionally and physically and are just about ready to collapse when you hear the baby crying, again. Somehow when there’s nothing left to give, there you are giving, again and again. This, my precious friend, is the face of raw sacrificial love, the greatest gift of all. That smile at a stranger, that undeserved gesture of kindness, that moment in time, this is the simple life.<br />
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Perfection is an illusion. The simple life is not necessarily living like the Amish as much as living like yourself, in your own mess- except with a new lens that sees and yearns to live out gratitude in spite of the circumstances, not because of it. Go ahead, go live the simple life, right smack in the middle of your very busy non-farming kind of life. As you live it out you unconsciously give other people permission to do the same.Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-24665008145227661312013-04-05T19:02:00.000-04:002013-04-05T19:48:34.406-04:00How to not meet the status quo- and be thankful for it<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<o:p>E</o:p>aster morning was chaotic. I should have been prepared with
the clothes laid out and pressed with matching accessories and shoes but I didn’t.
Three quarters of the clothes were in the laundry, wash or clean but wrinkled in a
heaping pile on the laundry room floor. I woke up late and rushed around
finding button-down shirts and some sort of khaki bottoms for everyone.
Although looking like my life depended on it, I was unable to find matching
socks in the whole house- for anyone. How does anyone have 18 socks with no
matches? I felt like Murphy’s Law was at work at this point. So, with no matching
socks I had them put on socks from the day before. Obviously not the ideal
solution, but you gotta do what you gotta do sometimes.</div>
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Suppressing the disappointment
and guilt I inevitably felt, I finally got all the pieces of everyone’s outfits
together and told them to put it on. Tears and tantrums were the immediate response.
As the time was ticking I started to give the evil eye and curl my lip in
frustration. Still more whining and running all around. Anger started to rise
and my voice was rising along with my blood. Why can’t they just listen? Why of
all days are they fighting me with this? A button-down shirt isn’t too much to
ask, is it? Well, in my house it was too much. At my wits end, weighing getting
to church super late or disciplining properly I resorted to bargaining and
bribes. </div>
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I walked into the kitchen to see my husband dressed like he was going
to play baseball. I’m like, “IT’S EASTER! Can you put on something a little
more… dressy/nice?” He looks at what I’m
wearing and grunts, “Oh” with an, ‘I guess you’re right but I’m still annoyed’
kind of look. We had about 5 minutes to get in the car and no one had eaten breakfast
yet. I tossed some eggs on a few plates and every other word I uttered was, “Come
on, hurry up, let’s go, we’re going to be late, stop screaming, stop messing
around, come on, hurry up…”</div>
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This is highly ironic since it’s a known fact for anyone
that’s known me more than five seconds that I’m always late and just about
everything I do is slow. But today it was everyone else’s problem that we were
running late (so it was in my mind anyway… ) Plus, pointing fingers is so much
easier than taking responsibility, right? </div>
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I just wanted so badly to be that picture perfect family
dressed to the nines with darling smiles on, holding hands and being adorable.
Instead I was the mean Mama barking orders at everyone while mopey kids and
disgruntled husband shot non-verbal insults my way. Was that button-down shirt
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Of course we were late. Of course we all were miserable. On
the way to church I kept wondering how many other families had the same morning
as us. How many didn’t? What could I have done differently? From someone whose
motto is “Don’t sweat the small stuff” all I was doing was sweating the small stuff. </div>
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I wish I would have woken up earlier. I wish I would have
prayed that morning and asked God to help me remember what it was I was going
to church for. I wish I would have let them pick out their own outfits. I wish
I wouldn’t have been influenced by what culture says is “Easter outfits.” I
wish I would have spoken sweetly to them and given out more words of love and
encouragement then of judgment and hostility. I wish I would have said, “You
want to wear your Spiderman shirt? Okay Baby, I love that shirt too.” I wish I
would have looked at my husband’s casual outfit and said, “You look so handsome-
I love you no matter what you wear! (because he did and because I do)” As I sat
there in the car wishing my morning away and rethinking my attitude, I started
thinking about Easter. I thought about why we’re even going to this church
building. I should have been praying for souls to be reached, for God to move
in the hearts of those attending, for God to heal my broken way of thinking,
for Him to touch people’s lives through the worship and message. I should have
cared about different things. </div>
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After all my apologies and after the service was over and we
came home, everyone ripped out of their clothes not one minute after stepping
into the house. I immediately thought, “Well all that fighting was totally not
worth it.” I didn’t get one picture of us… instead I got a lesson learned. The
best lessons learned are the ones where you can look back on your mistakes and
say, “Wow, that was dumb… I’m not doing that again.” Later that day as all the
Easter Facebook pictures popped up on my news feed I just smiled and thought, ‘We
missed that picturesque moment, but I learned a timely lesson that I wouldn’t
trade for all the pastel pants and Chaps shirts in the world.’ Next Easter I’ll
concentrate on things that matter. I’ll think about Jesus instead of fancy
clothes. We’ll more than likely be the family dressed like we’re going to a
sports event. Maybe some of us will be wearing clean socks, maybe we won’t.
Maybe we’ll have our shirts tucked in, maybe we won’t. One thing is for sure, I’m
not going to sweat the small stuff. No one will be spoken to harshly and we’ll
be wearing the only thing that really matters… a thankful heart for Jesus. </div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-79449693129996852202013-03-28T14:48:00.000-04:002013-03-28T14:48:50.188-04:00Easter<br />
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It seems like at least once a day at some point I’ve been
drilling the kids to remember what Easter really means. It feels like an uphill
battle where every sign, commercial and display is about bunnies and colorful
eggs. One time after I quizzed them on what Easter really means Silas asked,
“Then why are there so many Easter bunnies if that has nothing to do with
Easter?” I said, “I guess it’s because there’s always something else that seems
more colorful and exciting to take away from Jesus.” He looked thoughtful then
ran off to play. I hope he gets that even though in so many ways Jesus and His
truths are unpopular, they are the only way to peace, contentment and true joy.</div>
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Just yesterday, the kids came home with a huge bucket filled
with candy. They had an Easter egg hunt at school. The amount of candy was
almost like Halloween- ridiculous amounts. My kids never looked so happy as
they trotted out of the school building proudly swinging their heavy buckets
filled to the brim with everything deliciously desired in their little minds. </div>
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Even at age 31, I still really enjoy a good Snickers, Twix, Reece’s
peanut butter cup, etc. I have gone on a long journey with food to come to a
place now where I am no longer ignorant about the dangers and realities behind
the food industry. I have gone from no awareness, ‘ignorance is bliss’, eat-whatever-
I-want-without-a-care-in-the-world, to very much informed, knowledgeable,
cautious and a proactive advocate for a healthy, natural, eating as close to
God’s green earth as humanly possible kind of gal. We have no allergies per se
but we live like we do. We cut out modern hybridized wheat, genetically modified foods, most
processed sugary foods, and grain fed beef. This list seems small but it’s
basically everything they sell at the store. This has been very hard but I know
it’s what we have to do as a family. In a sense, I know too much to just go
back to the way we used to eat. As a result, we’ve all slimmed down a bit and I
feel really good about feeding my kids knowing that I’m doing everything I can
to fuel their bodies with what it needs to be healthy and to give them the best
start possible in life. As far as perfection goes, we are far from it. Eating
healthy in an unhealthy world is so hard. Parties, family functions, last minute
meals are all temptations to slip up. We do slip up and have these forbidden
foods on occasion but the next day we hop back on the healthy eating train and
all is well again. </div>
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So, as the kids are getting in the van with their candy I am
trying to figure out how to handle it. I want to just throw it all out in the
garbage and give them a few treats I got them at Earthfare, where there are no
GMO’s and there is actually a short ingredient list instead of the never ending
chemicals on the traditional candy labels. But then the look in their eyes, I
just couldn’t. So, I made them a deal. We would eat a few pieces today and then
throw the rest out and not have any tomorrow. We did the same thing for
Halloween and they took that okay. So we broke out the candy and immediately threw
out all the Tootsie Rolls. I just couldn’t even go there. To be fair, all the
candy is pretty much horrible for you, but for some reason Tootsie Rolls just
push me a little too far. They are completely banned for us. So, for the rest
of the candy we just ate a few pieces and a few pieces more and then before we
knew it, all the candy was gone. I ate right along with them! Next thing I knew
we all had runny noses… out of nowhere. I had a splitting headache and
Cannon’s belly was hurting him. How this candy was affecting
us was so telling. </div>
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It reminded me of the way we handle sin in our lives. It
looks so appealing, it’s wrapped in such shiny, pretty packaging with bright colors
and cute bows. It taste so good. We can’t have enough and we indulge ourselves
as much as we can. Afterwards, we are hurting. That hurt can be emotional,
spiritual, or directed at someone we love. Either way, we would have been
better off to run away from the temptation, like when Joseph ran away from Potiphar’s
wife when she was tempting him.</div>
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When <st1:city w:st="on">Brandon</st1:city>
came home from work, the kids were jumping off the walls and I was feeling
terrible with a headache that wouldn’t go away.
I asked B, “Since when did Easter mean GMO partially-hydrogenated oils,
genetically modified corn starch, GMO corn syrup, GMO sugar, preservatives,
artificial dyes and a host of other unpronounceable chemicals? When did we go
from, “Praise God! Jesus is alive!!” to “Let’s fill our babies’ bodies with
everything that’s terrible for them and call that Easter fun!” I know I’m
probably the scrooge of Easter egg candy, but isn’t there a better way? They
actually do make candy that is not terrible for you. I had to search, but it’s
out there, for about quadruple the price… but it’s out there! </div>
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At night when all the Easter candy is gone and we’ve all
recovered from our sugar highs (and lows) and refueled our bodies with
vegetables to try and compensate for the day before, I’m going to sit down with
my boys. I’m going to tell them that this is the best holiday in the world
because we know that not even death can keep us apart from God. Jesus died and
when He rose on the third day, that’s proof to everyone that not only is He
God, but all of our bad stuff that was put on Jesus is now forever gone. Whenever
you mess up, remember that Jesus already died for that and He’s alive now
waiting on you to grab a hold of that forgiveness. I’m going to tell them that
because of Easter we can live without worrying about anything. We don’t have to
fear a thing because the same God that loved us enough to send Jesus to die on
a cross for our sin is inside of us compelling us to live out this love to
others. I hope they are amazed at the grace of God and how absolutely nothing,
not even death, can keep us from the love of God. </div>
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<span style="background-color: white;">I pray this
scripture would be hidden in their hearts. No matter where they are or what
circumstances come their way- that they would know that the love and grace of God is not
earned or deserved. It’s not to be taken lightly or for granted. It’s a
treasure, a gift, a mystery and a marvel. It’s everything we could ever hope for
and everything we’ll ever need. It’s freedom and life, peace and hope and all
that we can ever desire. It’s enough, more than enough... Thank you Lord for Easter, for this
amazing miracle of grace. For taking every bad thing I’ve done and thought or
will do or will think and sending it as far as the east is from the west. Thank
you for the promise of heaven and for never leaving us alone. Thank you for the
truth that sets our souls free. May gratitude reign in my heart today and
tomorrow and all the days and years after. May my heart never grow weary of
thanking You for victory over sin, peace for today and hope for eternity.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-82847067834035247552013-03-19T01:42:00.000-04:002013-03-19T01:42:07.462-04:00Chosen for him and he for meSometimes at night I pick up my baby, nuzzle my head in his
neck, and kiss him until I get that deep-bellied cackle out of him. After all
that cackling, I just stare in his beautiful hazel eyes. I suddenly realize I’m
holding this incredible miracle, this sweet beautiful bundle of everything lovely. I become overwhelmed at the fact that he’s mine and I am his.
With his head on my shoulder and my arms wrapped around his stout, chubby body,
I start dancing with him, right in the middle of the kitchen. We’re dancing to
the sound of our hearts, in the midst of the dirty pots and pans.<br />
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For that
moment I don’t see the mess or care one iota about it. He just lets me love him and this time
snuggles his neck into mine as we sway back and forth, back and forth. Oh how my
cup overflows! In that instant I am the richest person in the world, and of all
women, the most blessed. My eyes are so tightly closed so as to squeeze all the
love in my heart into precious memories that I can keep forever. I need to
savor and enjoy this; I need to remember this exact minute. All I can muster
out is ‘thank you, thank you, thank you’- just whispering to the One who gave
me this child, this reward, this moment. </div>
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I hope He sees my heart, how it
overflows with gratitude, how although my words are few- they are full of awe,
praise and wonderment. How could it be
that I was chosen for him and he for me? It feels good to get lost in this love…
the love that I didn’t even know I’d have. </div>
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He was not in our plans. He ‘wasn’t
supposed to be’. On all accounts, he came at the exact wrong time in a
situation that was overwhelmingly in disarray. How the news of his coming tempted
hearts into fear, anxiety, worry and every untrue thought to think. To see him
now, just the opposite of all the lies we told ourselves. In true lavish God-fashion,
he is not only a good baby, he’s over-the-top adorable, peaceful, loving,
delightful, joyful and simply exactly what we needed that we didn’t know we
did. </div>
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There is not one crevice of my soul that doesn’t regret any second I spent
not completely elated over having this baby. When all anyone could see was the
burden, the price, the inconvenience, God saw the gift, the treasure, the
lessons that would refine us and build us up to be the parents He created us to
be. </div>
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When will we ever learn that “<i>A man
plans his way but the Lord directs his steps</i>?” When will we believe this? I
have the proof of it and his name is Reeve Michael, one of the best unexpected miracles
I could have ever hoped to receive. Look at what we would have missed! When I
hear that squeal of delight or catch him dancing to the music only he can hear,
may I stop and remember that “<i>His
thoughts are higher than our thoughts and His ways higher than our ways</i>.” </div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-78122732022674864192013-03-10T17:59:00.000-04:002013-03-10T17:59:41.660-04:00O death, where is your victory? O death, where is your sting?<br />
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Death has always been a terrible thing for me. As a young
girl I used to wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat thinking that
my mom, dad or someone I loved was going to die. I would run downstairs and cry
and cry on my mother’s lap thinking awful thoughts of being left alone.
Death was incomprehensibly horrifying! It was something to be feared, to be
worried about and to be shocked about if you heard someone actually went ahead
and died.</div>
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My favorite scripture growing up was Psalm 139 where it says, “<sup><span style="background-color: white;">16 </span></sup><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Your eyes saw me before I was put
together. And all the days of my life were written in Your book before any of
them came to be.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="textps-139-16"><b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">I believe that God knows the
number of our days. </span></b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">I
know that I can’t screw up and die before I was really ‘supposed to’. The ball
is no longer (or ever was) in my court. In a strange sense, relinquishing this
control brings a kind of comfort. It’s somehow liberating because I’m not
responsible. It means I’m trusting in God and saying that He really knows what’s
best even when it looks just the opposite. The hard part is that we don’t know
His plan. We don’t know why some people last until they’re ninety years old and
others until they are four. We don’t know why some women are born in <st1:country-region w:st="on">Afghanistan</st1:country-region> while others are born in <st1:country-region w:st="on"><st1:place w:st="on">America</st1:place></st1:country-region>. Why
some are born without limbs and others completely intact. There are so many
variables to being alive. Who, why, where, when, how long? We just don’t know so
many things, but thank God it’s not up to chance either. Faith is truly the
opposite of fear. <b>You can’t be afraid if
you believe God is good.</b> One of our many problems is that we can only see our
existence here on earth. Do we truly believe that there is a heaven? Do we
believe in eternity? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="textps-139-16"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">I hate goodbyes. When someone leaves this world that I knew
and loved it is the most surreal, most weird thing I can think of. The physiological
response is like nothing else I’ve ever experienced. It’s like the body wants
to shrivel up and turn itself inside out. I feel like I can't breathe, walk or think straight. I remember my brother’s funeral.
Standing there, looking at his pictures that I’d seen a million times, but now
instead of an album, they were in a slideshow with sad music. His name
plastered in the obituaries with his birthday along with the death date. I
remember looking at that and thinking, “This is fake. This is so strange. This
is really not happening.” I felt like I was playing a role in a movie or having
an out of body experience. I would get upset when people referred to him in the
past tense thinking, “He was just here a few days ago, what do you mean, ‘He <i>was</i> a funny guy?” He <i>is</i> hilarious and crazy and lives in the
moment.’ I remember standing up on the podium looking out at everyone’s faces
and thinking, ‘What am I doing here?’ A million memories clouded my thinking
and a thousand thoughts rushed to my brain all at once. It was just so sudden,
so unexpected, sad, unfair, unnatural and difficult, like the whole world was
coming undone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="textps-139-16"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">In Ecclesiastes 3 it says, </span></span><b><sup><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">11 </span></sup></b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">He has made everything beautiful in its
time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out
the work that God does from beginning to end.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">These words came
alive to me trying to make sense and cope with the loss of my brother. <b>Death is so unnatural because we were
created for eternity</b>. We were never intended to die. We were made in the
image of God to live and love forever. Doesn’t it make perfect sense that death
is so foreign? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Our fish, “Froggy”
died recently. He was laying at the bottom of the fish bowl. I broke the news
to the kids who didn’t know how to respond. I told them that Froggy died and
that he’ll no longer be with us. I told them he was gone forever. Cannon ran
and got the stool to get a better look into the fish bowl. When he saw him
upside down and sunk down to the bottom, he looked over at me and said, “I
know! I’ll just feed him!” He grabbed the fish food and was thrilled to death
that he figured it out. I explained that when someone or something dies, they
don’t come back, even if you feed it. I’ll never forget the look on his face.
His facial expression was a mix between, “You’re crazy and I’m totally
confused.” All kids are confused with death. There is no category for not being
here anymore. In their little minds they were always here and always will be…. and in a way, they’re right. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">In John 3:16
Jesus says, “<b><sup> </sup></b><span class="woj">For God so loved the world
that He gave His only begotten Son, that whosoever believes in Him should not
perish but have everlasting life.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="woj"><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">How
is it that we ‘should not perish?’ Don’t we all die? According to Jesus, we
don’t perish. We just go on living in another place, in another way, in another
capacity. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="woj"><b><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">We are going to leave this earth</span></b><span style="background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">. All the questions pertaining to it I do
not know. I <i>do</i> know that <b>God is good and His goodness is defined by
Him</b>. I know that it is overwhelmingly sad when someone leaves us for the
duration of our lives. Even Jesus wept over Lazarus’s death, and He was about
to raise him up from the dead! <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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As I stare at the picture of a smiling Sgt. Gary Morales, my
heart simply breaks. This everyday hero just recently died on February 28th, 2013 in the line of duty as a law
enforcement officer in <st1:state w:st="on">Florida,</st1:state>
at the young age of thirty-five. I remember him in our development growing up,
always smiling that same exact smile he has in his police picture. </div>
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I have that same sinking feeling thinking that he wasn’t
supposed to die. He was just with his family. His poor wife, his poor little
girls, his mom, his dad, his three brothers, his friends! How they will miss
everything about him! It just doesn’t seem right that he would be taken so
young, in his prime with so much to live for. Then, when I think about where he
is, as a believer, a small smile creeps in and I think he is in the best, most
amazing, most indescribable place. We can’t even describe how wonderful it is. Yes,
here we all are, sad and shaking our heads in disbelief, shock and horror. We
don’t know so many things. We don’t have answers. What we do know is that God
has all the answers. He wipes away every tear. He loves like crazy and He only
asks that we believe and trust in His work and dare I say, His good plan. In
all the world, with so many unexpected deaths from infants all the way up to
the very elderly…God is working, moving, and loving us. His goodness and love isn’t defined
in the manner in which we die or whether we die young or old. <b>It’s encapsulated in His Son whom He gave
up for us all, so that we could live eternally</b> and that this very sadness
we are experiencing would be temporary and not permanent. I pray He would open
our eyes to see Him as good, in any and every circumstance. Even when our hearts
are breaking, I pray He would help us in our humanity and rescue us from our short-sighted thinking. I pray every single time we let our minds wander to that dark
and burdened place, that God would come quickly to our aid. I pray He would remind us of His love and how he slayed and
defeated death once and for all- so that we, His prized and cherished
possessions, would live with Him and all our believing family and friends, forever
and ever and ever.</div>
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When I die, whether it be tomorrow or in a hundred years, I
pray that my three boys, who are my living legacy, would see the world as it
is- not their ultimate home. While they are here I pray Romans 12 over them- that
they would<span class="textrom-12-2"> not conform</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-2">to the pattern of this world,</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-2">but be transformed by the renewing
of their minds.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> That t</span><span class="textrom-12-2">hen they will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his
good, pleasing</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-2">and perfect will. </span><span class="textrom-12-9"><span id="en-NIV-28249">To love sincerely, hate what is evil and to cling to what is
good.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-10"><b><sup><span id="en-NIV-28256">10 </span></sup></b>I pray that they would be devoted to one another in love.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-10">Honor one another above
themselves.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"></span> </span><span class="textrom-12-11"><b><sup><span id="en-NIV-28257">11 </span></sup></b>I pray they would never be lacking in zeal, but keep their
spiritual fervor,</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-11">serving the Lord.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-12"><b><sup><span id="en-NIV-28258">12 </span></sup></b>Lord, let them be joyful in hope,</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-12">patient in affliction,</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-12">faithful in prayer.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"></span><span style="background-color: white;"> </span><span class="textrom-12-13"><b><sup><span id="en-NIV-28259">13 </span></sup></b>Help them to share with the Lord’s people who are in need
and to practice hospitality. </span><span id="en-NIV-28260"><span class="textrom-12-14"><b><sup>14 </sup></b>Help them
to bless those who persecute them;</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-14">bless and do not curse.</span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span id="en-NIV-28261"><span class="textrom-12-15"><b><sup>15 </sup></b>Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"></span> </span><span id="en-NIV-28262"><span class="textrom-12-16"><b><sup>16 </sup></b>Live in harmony with one another.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> Help them not to</span><span class="textrom-12-16"> be proud, but be willing to
associate with people of low position and not be conceited. </span></span><span id="en-NIV-28263"><span class="textrom-12-17"><b><sup>17 </sup></b>Remind them not to repay anyone evil for evil…</span><span class="apple-converted-space">. and </span><span class="textrom-12-18"><b><sup><span id="en-NIV-28264">18 </span></sup></b>if it is possible, as far as it depends on them, to live at
peace with everyone.</span><span class="apple-converted-space"></span> </span><span class="textrom-12-19"><b><sup><span id="en-NIV-28265">19 </span></sup></b>Give them strength to not take revenge,</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textrom-12-19">but to leave room for God’s wrath…
help them </span><span class="textrom-12-21">not
be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.</span></div>
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<span class="textrom-12-21">I pray that they would earnestly pray
for wisdom above success. That they would count their blessings and be ever
humbled by Your abundant and extravagant love for them. Whether they live in
luxury or poverty, I pray Your praise would continually be on their lips. I
pray they would seek truth and honor above fortune and fame. May their God-given
talents and gifts be used everyday for Your work for Your glory as long as they
live. I pray for their perfect care, but if You see fit in Your perfect will
and plan to take them early, I pray You would still my heart and keep me
focused on eternity, where I’ll get to be with them again, along with all my
precious loved ones. In the meantime, may everyday be full of life, love, laughter, peace, joy and all the fruit of the Spirit. May the person who You’ve made me to be be my greatest witness to the kind of
gracious, adoring and absolutely incredible God You are, regardless of any
circumstance I encounter. Help me to believe this difficult thing. <b>When I want to doubt your goodness Lord,
remind me of eternity!</b></span><b><o:p></o:p></b></div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-44090215987414710642013-02-28T17:01:00.003-05:002013-03-03T14:24:37.504-05:00Distractions in the circus of life<br />
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Our family is one that struggles financially. My very brave
and hard-working husband works as a law enforcement officer while I stay home
with our three boys. Living on a very humble salary has been hard but it has genuinely changed us
for the better. We are more cautious, mindful and purposeful than ever before, regarding money. We have
come to recognize the value each dollar has and because of this, the pain of
wasteful spending is like a punch in the gut for us. Thank God we have very supportive
families and friends that live close by. We aren’t able to give extravagant gifts
or go on vacation but my kids wouldn’t know the difference. They have plenty of
people to spoil them! </div>
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My oldest boy’s fifth birthday was coming up and my mom told
me of the surprise she had for Silas. She and my dad were giving the whole
family tickets to the circus! I jumped with excitement just thinking of his
reaction and the fun we all would have.</div>
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When the circus day finally arrived we picked up the tickets
from grandma and grandpa and everyone was thrilled to go. The grandparents also
gave the kids $20 each for souvenirs at the circus. I was thinking that was a
lot of money for a souvenir until I actually got to the circus and saw the barrage
and array of 'stuff' to buy. Clowns were going up and down the aisles selling
elaborate spinners, popcorn in large Dr. Seuss type hats, ice cones in clown
mugs, blinking light headpieces and a hundred other blinking ‘things’. I knew
they each had $20, which to us was like $200. I could feel my stress levels
skyrocket as I asked what each thing cost. The kids were only three and five years
old and kept changing their mind of what they wanted. Of course they wanted the
biggest spinning blinking light toy that cost more than what they had. In the
hurry to get something before the show started, my husband flagged down a guy
selling snow cones in a clown mug. I knew that probably wasn’t the best idea
since they never had a snow cone before. I had a suspicion they wouldn’t
like it. When they first got it they were delighted at the electric blue snow
cones. About ten seconds later Silas threw up the spoonful he had in his
mouth and Cannon (my three year old) didn’t want it either and kept saying he
wanted a spinning toy. Realizing the boys didn’t like it, my husband took the
mugs and threw out the snow cones in the bathroom. I was sick to my stomach that
in ten seconds we just threw away almost all of the money they were given on
something they didn’t even like! My eyes welled up with tears as I stuffed the empty clown mugs in my bag and just
sat there thinking, “I’m at the happiest, most exciting place in the city, my kids are miserable and I feel sick about the wasted money...and the show hasn't even started yet!” As the circus finally
began and the lights dimmed, the boys totally forgot about the souvenir
escapade and had such a great time. Not once did they mention the stupid
spinning toy. We all had a blast.</div>
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When we got home I took out the mugs to put their water in
and their eyes lit up as they said, “Oh yeah, I LOVE these!!!!” I laughed to
myself because they hated it not a few hours earlier with all the distractions
around. As they were squirming in their chair thrilled to death that they got
to have water in their souvenir clown mugs, I reflected back on the day and the
whole souvenir debacle. I thought how when confronted with flashy silly toys their eyes grew wild with desire for everything and how dissatisfied they were
with their decision. They were perfectly content before all the gimmicky clowns were parading around enticing their young innocent hearts. Those clowns
were showing the kids what they didn’t have and how much fun they were missing
out on as they spun their spinners and threw their ‘boomerings’. I doubt they would have been satisfied with anything they got. </div>
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I thought about how often that happens to us as adults. We
want to live, be content with what we have, enjoy our lives and be close to
God. Just like those clowns going up and down the aisles at the circus,
we too get distracted. We see that perfect family or the perfectly organized
home or the perfect kids or the shiny car or the designer ‘whatever’ or a
million other things. We lose focus and decide we<i> need</i> all those things. We start to feel discontent and dissatisfied with anything and everything we get
because it’s never enough. When the distractions are pushed aside we are able
to see the big picture, we find joy again in the reason we’re alive- to love
God and others. When the actual performance started, the boys forgot about
wanting everything they saw, they were focused on the actual reason they were
there… to see the show. When our actual purpose starts, we too forget about
wanting everything we see. Our purpose is to find our significance in who God
made us to be and to share that with others. Once we let the show begin in our
own lives we can get busy at loving the life we have and let the distractions dissipate
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-45763416265566190242013-02-18T17:15:00.000-05:002013-02-18T17:15:03.469-05:00To my manly boy, Silas<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana;">Today you are FIVE years old. I tear up thinking about how fast these years have gone by, knowing that the next five years will go by just as fast. I want to just savor all the memories and constantly make new ones because you have been one of the greatest joys in my life. When God thought you up, He went to town with his creative genius. Loving, kind, independent, shy, handsome as all get out, expressive, hilarious, and a million other great things. God’s plan for you started before you were born.
He knows your every move and every thought. He used me to bring you into the
world. You can’t even imagine the love I have for you and to think that my
immeasurable love is but a drop of water in the vast </span><st1:place style="font-family: Verdana;" w:st="on"><st1:placetype w:st="on">ocean</st1:placetype> of <st1:placename w:st="on">God</st1:placename></st1:place><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana;">’s
love for you... that just takes my breath away. I would say that one day you’ll understand
it, but I’d be lying. You’ll never know the depths of His love for you because
it is too great. I pray you’d try though. I pray you’d fall on your knees,
close your eyes and be awestruck with every attempt at grasping at it. When I
met you five years ago, it was one of the best days of my life. These last five
years have been a whirlwind. Thank God I took a million pictures because how
easy it is to forget. I remember your silky soft skin, your hairy ears, your
fat paws, and your sumo wrestler rolls all over your body. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana;">How your dad and I looked
at you and just bawled our eyes out! Tears of love that couldn’t be contained,
tears of anticipation of ‘What do we do with you?!’ Tears of vulnerability, of surrender
and of happiness that you were finally here. As the months and years have
passed on I look at you with such pride. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana;">That God has chosen me to be your
mommy is something to bask in. I am filled with gratitude for all the moments and
memories we’ve made and shared and all the moments we will share in the future.
As a baby you were so pleasant, happy and goofy. Really, you were the funniest
kid. You were so expressive, filled to the brink with energy, independence and innocence.
I remember thinking, I wonder what the record is for most kissed baby because
all I did was kiss and squeeze you. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana;">I didn’t want to miss any season, any
milestone. I was right there cheering you on, always your number one fan. I
always will be. You are so incredibly smart, articulate, funny and amazing in
every way. You could always
express why you were angry, disappointed or felt sad. You are one special kid and hands down the best brother anyone could ask for. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana;"> You’ve taught me more than you’ll ever know. Today I hope you know not only how
much you’re treasured, but how much you have taught me about life, God and
family. Thank you for the gift of being a mother. I am so much of a better
person because of you. My dreams for you are to fly high and to dream your own dreams whatever they may be. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana;">You are my dream come true, baby. Happy birthday to the boy who forever holds my heart. I
love you Silas Benjamin!!</span></div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-13164066974700660782013-01-26T11:00:00.000-05:002013-01-26T11:00:23.879-05:00My Story<br />
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I can remember going on a missions trip to <st1:place w:st="on">Mexico</st1:place> when I was a young teen and
feeling inadequate to share my testimony because I felt I didn’t have one. It
has taken me all these years to finally see the story God chose for me. </div>
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People stand in wonder when they come to find out how I was
as a child. How I don’t remember a time that I didn’t love the Lord. How I
smiled and laughed at everyone and had a sense of peace about me, from infancy.
How I felt his presence as a kid and would cry my eyes out just thinking about
how much He loved me.</div>
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How I would close my
bedroom door and worship him for hours and hours with music and dance. I would
write love notes, poems and prayers to Him and memorize Psalm 139 over and over
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I would burn the midnight oil discussing theology with my
dad and loving every second of it. I would think about philosophical questions
and ponder those thoughts for days, weeks even. I noticed that where others might
have seen just a pretty flower, I saw God’s awesomeness and creativity. Where
others were tucking God in nice little boxes and placing it in their pockets, I
was seeing God bigger than life and infiltrating through everything. I saw life
through a God-filter and I’m not sure why. I felt that everything was
interconnected, and that God was in it, working, moving. </div>
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I was much more of a Jesus freak then I led on and I still
am. Growing up it pained me that I didn’t have a specific day and time that “I asked
Jesus into my heart” so I would ask Him over and over, scared to death I would
go to hell if “I really didn’t mean it.” How much more I still had to learn! As I grew up, it was hard for me to
understand why others may not have felt the same way I did. I gradually came to
realize this was His gift to me, to snatch me up and never let me go. </div>
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This is not to say I lived a perfect, sinless life either. I
made lots of mistakes, I faced peer pressure with the best of ‘em. I never
thought I was better than anyone else. I experimented with the world but probably
in different ways than a lot of others. My conscience was too strong for me to
ignore, I had a hard time overcoming it when the waters were tested. </div>
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It wasn’t that I was always following a bunch of rules for
rules sake, but I had experienced the very love and affection of God. </div>
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I don’t think, even today people know just how much God
loves them. If they did, I’m convinced they would fall on their knees and never
get up. As the Psalmist says, “Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, it is
high, I cannot attain it.” </div>
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This incredible experience, this amazing relationship was my
motivation, my reason for my decisions. This
deep and powerful love kept me from a lot of strife. Did it keep me away from
experiencing all strife, no- but a lot of strife? Yes. I don’t have a prodigal
son story like so many have. I don’t have an ‘I was lost and now I’m found’
epiphany. I felt deep within my soul that He found me as a babe and kept me so
close to His heart. That was His doing for His purposes. It was so pleasant
there, so reassuring and peaceful that I never left. I would look at others and
just want them to know this living God who had everything they could ever hope
for or want. I knew God was the only one that could open eyes and hearts so I
just stayed on the side lines a lot- watching, hoping, living my life. I found this quote the
other day that kind of puts it exactly how I felt.</div>
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So this was my life.
My story is God created me to love Him. In doing so I am complete in Him. I’ve felt this ‘wholeness’ my whole life, from the beginning. I can only hope
I’ve had a positive impact on others but I’ve come to realize my true legacy
will be through my three boys. I’ve been called, “so grounded, an old soul,
compliant, always smiling, wisdom beyond her years, etc.” That’s all sweet and
kind, but the truth is, I’m just a girl saved by grace and loved beyond anyone’s
imagination by her Maker. I credit nothing to myself. I don’t have it all
together. I am just like anyone else out there. This just happens to be my
story. It’s not that exciting and maybe it turns people off. I fear people feel
they can’t identify with me or I with them. That’s just not true. I struggle, I
make mistakes, I offend people, I goof around, I judge, I laugh at stupid
stuff, I ask for forgiveness (all the time), at times I think too highly of
myself and at other times I think too lowly of myself. I am every woman with
fears and guilt and insecurities. </div>
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Motherhood is not all flowers and butterflies… in fact it’s
more like mud puddles and snot rockets.
At 6pm you won’t find me all put together with my perfect makeup,
darling apron on sweetly calling the little ones to the table while they come
totting pleasantly to the dining room with smiles and amicable and grateful
dispositions.</div>
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It’s more like me
being frazzled, glancing at the clock every 2 minutes counting down the minutes
before B comes home and can save me from the wild zoo I feel like I’ve been
trapped in. About that time usually one kid is coming off the rails from hunger
and the other two are tearing up my living room by building a fort out of every
toy, blanket and object from their room. Trying to keep my sanity and make a
healthy dinner I try blocking out the cries, accidental falls and such so I can
calculate doubling the recipe with fractional units while trying not to break
my neck with the random toys left on the kitchen floor. </div>
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<o:p> </o:p>I’m in the trenches feeling burdened by responsibilities, debt and plain ‘ole life. We’ve made bad decisions and I need humility and
grace just as much as the next guy and I’m not afraid to admit it. I write all
this to say don’t be intimidated or in judgment over someone else’s story. The
one thing I know about God is that He loves variety. He manifests a different
part of His character in different people. God loves to show a part of who He
is in every single person. In me, I see His steadfast love. Maybe you have the
same story or maybe not. It could be that in you He reveals his long-suffering,
his order, his justice, his peace, his grace, or a beautiful combination.</div>
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When I hear someone’s story I feel honored to listen to yet
another side of God in action. Let’s rejoice in the way God has moved or is
moving in someone else. The story may have just started or more than likely
it’s right smack in the middle. What I know is that unless you’re dead, He’s
still writing it, revealing an important part of who He is in you. One of my most favorite things is just listening to someone tell their story because it makes
me stand in awe of God that much more. His splendor is boundless and His
variety simply immeasurable. So, what’s your story? It doesn’t have to move mountains but it might be just the thing needed to move someone else’s. Share it every chance
you get- it blesses others, gives them hope and encouragement and if that’s not
enough I believe it makes God smile. <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span> </div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-70576668577100573962013-01-14T04:30:00.000-05:002013-01-14T04:39:47.338-05:00God shows up at Wal-Mart too<br />
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It was a regular ‘ole day at Wal-Mart. I try not to despise Wal-Mart.
I try and see the interesting people there as people like me- getting deals,
feeding their families. So, they forgot to get changed out of their PJs. So,
they might have forgotten to take the rollers out of their hair. It happens to
the best of us, right? I keep walking, looking at my list, grabbing things,
searching for produce bags that are strategically hidden in the weirdest
corners. I am finding everything on my list and have that happy feeling that I may
not spend a hundred dollars today. </div>
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As I’m rounding the aisle I see the sign for apple cider
vinegar. My heart sinks. That happy feeling fades as I think how badly I wanted
to get the “raw” apple cider vinegar I’ve been reading so much about. The
regular non-raw stuff is for the birds apparently. The healthy raw stuff is
where it’s all at. I already went to Earthfare for the week and forgot to buy
it there and I needed apple cider vinegar for a recipe before I take another
trip to Earthfare. Wal-Mart doesn’t have that, I had already checked before. “I’m
going to have to settle for the non-raw stuff” I say to myself as I roll the
cart closer and closer to the bottles of vinegar. I look at the variety and like
a beam of light streaming down from heaven, almost glistening right in front of
my nose stood the raw apple cider vinegar! It is the only one, no sign for it
and totally out of place. Without thinking I grab it as if it might disappear
if I don’t snatch it up immediately. I bring it toward my chest and without thinking
close my eyes and literally say out loud, “<b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">He loves me</span></b><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">!</span>” It is so funny looking back on it because I
really was so excited, not because I found it but that He loved me. I actually
teared up and stood there staring at it in disbelief for a couple of minutes. It
was one of those times that you just know that God loves you. <br />
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Silly example? Probably… but in my simple life of Wal-Mart
trips, three loud & wild boys, inside out socks scattered throughout the
house and three day old bananas smashed and dried on my dining room floors,
this was a shout out from God to remind me, “<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Even
in the midst of the messy and hairy days that you live day in and day out, I
still see <i>you</i></span>. <span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">I love you in the little things, how much more do I
love you in the big things?</span>” For
that minute at the grocery store you would have thought I just won the lottery…
well, because I did. <i>He is my million
dollars</i>. It’s in the little things that God likes to show up. Doesn’t he
always? He picked fishermen to be his disciples, He was born on a pile of hay,
He chooses the least ‘qualified’ and ‘holy’ to be His hands and feet and to
pour out His love on. Remember how He chose the shepherds to follow the star to
<st1:city w:st="on">Bethlehem</st1:city> and
worship Him there in the manger? I’m the shepherd. I’m the nobody that God sees
and decided to surprise with His love. Sometimes His love is found through His
precious Word and sometimes it’s found at Wal-Mart in the form of raw apple
cider vinegar. </div>
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It wasn’t the fact that it was raw apple cider vinegar. It
was the fact that He knew that finding that would simply make my day. He really
does delight in us. I can’t help but think of the times I surprise the kids
with something they really want. Their face, their eyes, their excitement… is
there anything better? God is our Father, and He rejoices over us with singing.
How often I forget the myriad of ways He loves. When He shows up in big ways
it’s amazing and wonderful and awesome. We expect Him to show up big because He
is God- the Creator of the universe, after all. We love Him for it and sing his
praises and send out praise reports. I think it’s in those little things that
aren’t even worth mentioning that He really delights in, those small everyday
things that are just between you and Him. He knows they will encourage us,
delight us and teach us to not miss the small stuff because that’s where He
lives and moves and whispers His love for us. The mundane, the boring, the
everyday non-holy events, there He is breathing on us His affection, telling us
He loves us over and over and over again. </div>
Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-26741244907587154912012-12-05T17:06:00.001-05:002012-12-05T17:08:22.917-05:00Presents and Presence<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie11UdAqaXmq0rlCuqvF4IWzWglrjnqmwohs60IwMBw2Md514MlhAnDQjrY6kchyphenhyphend8ewLGj8pwzr1o_DdJypbsRfV1nU5UfImj6u3hqnioP6n-bMPWMOXVGCoJOdQTUxzEiCub70CvGAo/s1600/IMG_6110.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEie11UdAqaXmq0rlCuqvF4IWzWglrjnqmwohs60IwMBw2Md514MlhAnDQjrY6kchyphenhyphend8ewLGj8pwzr1o_DdJypbsRfV1nU5UfImj6u3hqnioP6n-bMPWMOXVGCoJOdQTUxzEiCub70CvGAo/s320/IMG_6110.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
My husband and I live modestly. We’ve come to only buy what
we need and through this, have realized how very little we actually need. We
rarely buy the kids gifts and toys throughout the year since we simply don’t
have the money for that kind of thing during this season of life. We don’t
follow the three gifts per kid in reference to the three presents the three
kings brought to Jesus for Christmas. Brandon and I love to overwhelm and overload
them with gifts. Isn’t that what Jesus does for us? At least that's how we justify the lavishness! We love the anticipation,
the sparkle in their eyes, the excitement, the chaos, just the whole darn
thing. We use the Christmas bonus to go a little crazy showering them with
everything we couldn’t afford to get them throughout the year. We absolutely
love it and so do they. Last year we just went out and threw things in the shopping cart
without really thinking through the quality and the reviews of each toy. Many
things we got didn’t last long and a few even broke on Christmas day! This year
we wanted it to be different. On Black Friday I decided to check out the deals
and saw quite a few! I needed to stay home and do it all online since the boys
were home with me. I was in the trenches of online deals, researching,
comparing prices, looking up best toys of the year by age group and all sorts
of things.<br />
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Silas and Cannon were easy. They are three and four and I
knew the kind of things they like to do and play with. Reeve, my one year old,
was harder. When I was thinking about what he would like, I really didn’t know
for sure. He is so quiet, so easy, that I couldn’t even think what he would
want. He usually just plays in the cabinets or with his brothers following
them around. Before I bought anything for him, I wanted to observe him and see
what kind of toys he liked best. I found my opportunity when he woke up from
his nap while the other two were still sleeping. After a little while I put him
down on the floor, surrounded with toys, and watched what he gravitated to. He
just sat there looking up at me probably wondering why I was just standing
there. After a little bit of him not doing much of anything I showed him his
talking dog with lights; he was not impressed. I gave him a book; he took a bite
of the corner then tossed it. I zoomed a car over to him and he looked at it,
smiled, then crawled on. He would pick up a toy, put it in his mouth then toss
it. No one toy was really standing out as a favorite.</div>
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I looked at the clock and saw I had an hour before the other
two woke up from their nap. I had major chores backed up that I desperately
needed to do. As I looked at the happiest baby in the world and thought about
the mountain of clothes that needed folding, I knew I had a decision. It was a
no-brainer… I chose the baby. It was the best decision of the day. I decided to
get down on the floor with him to see what other toys I could find. As soon as
my bottom hit the floor I realized how rarely I do that with him. When he saw
me on the floor, he actually squealed with delight and crawled as fast as he
could over to me. I then got on my hands and knees and crawled all over his
room chasing him and letting him chase me. His belly laughs made it so worth
while. I had no other thoughts besides just loving on him. After the beating on
my knees, I keeled and played peek-a-boo just to see that beaming smile, hear
those squeals, take in his adoration and give him mine. </div>
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After several “peak-a-boos,” he crawled right over and began
climbing on me. I think he was trying to reach the top of the Mommy
Mountain-giggling all the way to the top. The pulls, pokes, jabs, yanks and
drooling were his way of showing me that he loved me… and I was loving every
second of it. I had an epiphany right there and then in the middle of the
nursery, with a foot in my bra and a stream of drool flowing down my neck- I’m
it! I’m his favorite toy! He could have a hundred different ‘Voted best toy of the
year with five star rating’ toys and nothing would make his eyes sparkle like
when he’s able to chase his crawling Mama on the floor. I had such a heartwarming time with my baby. I didn’t think I could love him more than I already did, but
getting on the floor with him and playing made me remember how special of a kid
he is and how much I love and adore him. I knew what I was going to get Reeve
for Christmas… more purposed play time with Mama, which will inadvertently be my
Christmas gift too.</div>
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The whole experience playing on the floor with Reeve
reminded me of the last time I went to a local bookstore. When I went through
the ‘Christian living’ aisle, I looked up at the seemingly miles long wall of
devotions. I thought about buying one, and then decided against it since I already
have several. I thought to myself, <i>‘</i>I
want more of God, but not<i> </i>necessarily
more books <i>about</i> God<i>.</i>’ As I continued my walk down the
aisle, I felt so overwhelmed. There were figurines, Scripture plaques, framed
photographs with Christian quotes, beautiful journals, books, mints, belts- you
name it. In the same way Reeve was in a room full of all sorts of toys but only
wanted to play with me; I was surrounded by wonderful God related resources and
the only thing I really wanted, the only thing that would make my eyes sparkle
and my soul content, was to be in the presence of my Father. There is no
substitute, no tangible means that ever comes close to relationships. What
perfect timing God chose to share this with me- in the middle of the gift
purchasing process, when my mind and heart needed reminding that the gifts are
just tools that help build the relationship, not a substitution of it. </div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-48332094864264307562012-11-25T02:02:00.000-05:002012-11-26T09:00:51.546-05:00Silas and the Gospel<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTDbhdBVkaHT5GnHWOpY27Vqj_p3gEyguXnEGm9Swma_v0DRa8Smvg_5o9INjbjrzRCLB4lSc6qhBpD7JYB7rGzfWW6qWZNDeMg3d_3ErtZiL1NjTdPs9d3EORKZjVVdy-7rFBNgah9k/s1600/IMG_5938.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmTDbhdBVkaHT5GnHWOpY27Vqj_p3gEyguXnEGm9Swma_v0DRa8Smvg_5o9INjbjrzRCLB4lSc6qhBpD7JYB7rGzfWW6qWZNDeMg3d_3ErtZiL1NjTdPs9d3EORKZjVVdy-7rFBNgah9k/s320/IMG_5938.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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It was one of those days where I felt like my chaotic life
was going to get the best of me. Every corner of every room was filled to the hilt
with kid randomness. Markers, toys, itty bitty tiny pieces of paper, socks, and
who knows what else was scattered around the house. My one, three and four year
olds were literally running (and crawling) circles around me. I felt like
patting myself on the back to have gotten breakfast served before 11am since it was a
circus act hopping over babies and cooking over last nights dishes. It probably
looked like a comedy routine to a fly on the wall, but to me, it was just life.
Nothing to hoot and holler about, just the chaos that normally consumes me on a
regular basis. I just looked around at the mess and instead of feeling charged
to clean, I felt the very opposite. I felt so tired on so many levels- and I
hadn’t even started! I looked over at the fire in the fireplace and saw it
needed to be poked to keep the flames ablaze. Perfect excuse to procrastinate
even more, I thought. </div>
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I walked over and tended to the fire while my little ones
leaped and rolled on the rug behind me. If only I could bottle up a tenth of
that energy! I decided to sit right in front of the fire and watch it build up. What is it about kids when parents get on the floor with them? I
could see all three of their eyes well up with exhilaration as they climbed and
rolled all over me. I knew I couldn’t miss this. I needed to be present with
them. It was so hard to stop my mind from whirling and weary thoughts on
cleaning, organizing, bills, laundry, meals and schedules~ but I had to, I wanted to.
I wanted to just have peace with not a stitch of worry. As I sat down in front
of the fire, my four year old, Silas, snuggled up to me while I scratched his
back. He had questions about how his daddy and I met, what it was like when I
found out the boys were inside my belly and things like that. I told them about
the day they were born and how their daddy and I were beside ourselves with
excitement and anticipation. How Silas was the biggest baby in the hospital and
how his cheeks were so big I couldn’t even see his eyes. I told my three year old, Cannon, how when he was
in my belly he would kick me so hard. I told him how I remembered that the
minute he came out, his scream could be heard in the next city over. They asked
question after question and ate up all the attention. They gleamed at the
thought of being loved so much before they were even born. </div>
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Silas snuggled closer and asked me why we named him,
‘Silas’. I told him the story of how one day I was reading my Bible and came
across the story of Paul and Silas. I told him that Paul and Silas loved God
and couldn’t help but tell other people about Jesus. The judge sent them to
jail for being troublemakers, even though they didn’t do anything wrong. His
furrowed eyebrows showed the injustice he felt at such a thing. I asked him how
he would react if he had to go to jail for no good reason. We talked about
feeling sad, mad and complaining about how unfair it would be. When I told him
that Paul and Silas did none of those things, he was surprised. I said not only
did they not complain, but they prayed and sang songs of praise to God. They
worshiped when so many others would have just sat in the corner and cried. I
told him that God heard them singing and an earthquake hit and all their chains
were loosed and they were free! He was excited that God showed up in such a big
way. I told him how much that story meant to me. I said I just loved the fact
that even when Paul and Silas were captured and thrown in jail, they loved God
so much that they still managed to lift their hands and voices up in praise all night long. I
explained how not only did I love that story, but I loved the name ‘Silas’,
too. The next question he had bottled up was about heaven. He wanted to know how to get there.</div>
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I told him the only way to get to heaven is to believe that
when Jesus died, he took all of our sin, all the bad stuff, and put it on
himself. Silas chimed in with, “OH! He put all that sin in his heart, inside of
him?” I agreed with him and said that not only did He take away all our sin,
but He gave us all his love in return. I told him that when Jesus died on the
cross he removed all of our sins, forever. He inquisitively answered, “But I
still sin, Mom.” He looked perplexed, a little like myself when I think about
the same thing. I told him that even though we sin, God only sees Jesus’ love
covering all that yucky stuff. He was as quiet as a mouse, just sitting there
with his head tilted back, taking it all in. I told him the only thing we can
do to get into heaven is to ask God to forgive us and believe what Jesus did for us. I explained that we
can’t do anything, we just have to believe. It seemed too simple, even to say
that to him. Using the most basic vocabulary reminded me of how simple and
amazing the Gospel really is. </div>
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He didn’t have anymore questions. I could tell he had a lot
to mull over in his little mind. I asked him if he wanted to ask Jesus into his
heart. He looked at me, put his hands in the air and said, “Mom, I’m just a
kid!” We laughed out loud together and I just gave him a squeeze. I told him if
he had anymore questions or if he ever wants to ask Jesus in his heart another
time, to just let me know. He ran off to play and I was left staring at the
fire again. I was so grateful to share the beautiful Gospel with my son. I felt
like the house and my life being so overwhelming was somehow in the plan. Feeling so beat down led me to get on the
floor with my kids and talk about what really matters. Even though the dishes
were still piled high and the floor was still in dire need of a good mopping, I
felt that peace I desperately needed to keep keeping on. It’s the peace that
rushes in when I surrender and let God do His thing, even in the middle of a
very chaotic life.</div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-62714065870147103982012-11-17T02:08:00.000-05:002012-11-17T02:22:25.716-05:00Thankful for the Crazy Chaos <br />
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Life usually throws twists and turns, but for me here lately, I feel like life has been throwing me hard balls, secret handshakes and trick
candles. This year I’ve decided to be thankful for the blessings in disguise,
if you will. I’m thankful to God for being God; for being in control of all
things and for teaching me to be real, to be desperate and to not be
self-sufficient. Of course I’m grateful for things He gives me but to be honest
I’m typically not too grateful for the nuisances, the troubles and all the
inconveniences. </div>
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I’m not ultra religious and I lack discipline to read the Bible
regularly. I can’t remember the last time I went to a church service and the
height of my ‘good works’ has been picking up after the other members of my
family. There’s no special, gifted, and super spiritual Proverbs 31 woman that
lives here- it’s just me. I’m full of service but not always the sunniest soul
in the room. Silas recently asked me, “Mom, what are you so angry about?” I answered with a reason, something pertaining to one of them not listening. He responded like a little psychologist, with “Mom, I mean, why are <u>YOU</u> so angry.” I thought, “You’re too little to be convicting me!” Instead, I just huffed and
puffed and blew off steam under my breath before sulking, swallowing my pride, and
asking for forgiveness from a three and four year old. </div>
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It’s hard being a mom. I
sometimes think, “Why the heck do I have this many kids so close together?!” How
is it my reasoning skills were so off so many times? LOL. I can think such
selfish thoughts and just not want to do anything for anyone all day. Sometimes
I just want to sit, stare and veg. This is like the ultimate dream day for me.
Sounds so silly to write, but maybe a mom or two out there knows what I’m
talking about… then again, maybe not. </div>
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Motherhood can be so isolating, so demanding and so tedious.
The stars all have to align to get everyone out of the house without someone
crying hysterically. Sometimes I’m the one crying hysterically though… wondering
why they all can’t be perfect and just listen the first time they are told to
do something. Why can’t they stop whining? My God- the whining!! Sometimes I
think I will explode. I send whoever’s whining to a far away place where the
high-pitched unknown language can hardly be heard; but even then it’s me that
wishes for a far off land. There are dark moments where everyone is crying over
something and I just want to escape. I feel like I can’t breathe in the house
and will need to step outside to just take in some fresh air. It’s like they
suck the life right out of me and I need to get out to be replenished again in
order to keep myself together and keep giving. </div>
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People look at me
with stars in their eyes sometimes and wonder how I do it. I’m like, “Wait,
what? I have a choice to <i>not</i> do it?” Sign me up! I need a day…. " Having three
kids in four years is crazy. I mean, really delusional and insane. At least it
has been for me. I’m not a Duggar- soft spoken-completely organized- painted
smile on my face all day- kind of mom. When I’m not frustrated and grinding my
teeth at some little person, I’m laughing- often hysterically- mostly because I’ve
gone past the point of no return. You know that feeling when you stay up way
too late with a friend and you start laughing about something and you just can’t
stop. It’s like you’ve gone gitty and whatever somewhat funny thing said is now
over the top hilarious. You can’t help but snort and cackle like some odd drunk donkey, slapping your knee with your hand while tears stream down your cheeks uncontrollably? That’s me, except it’s not late at night and there’s
no funny girlfriends. It’s me laughing at my kids. In the middle of discipling,
dinner, diaper changes, you name it. I’m laughing right now, too. It’s just crazy and funny being in this
season of life. Knowing it won’t last forever, but feeling like it will. It’s
coming to grips with reality and embracing the good, the bad and the ugly. It’s
praying every moment that you’re not messing them up too bad and taking pictures
of everything because in a weird sense, the need to capture, to remember, to
savor this crazy life is overwhelming. </div>
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I know it’s crazy, I know it’s not all
that desirable to some, (probably many) but it’s mine. It’s what God gave me.
Now these moments that I write about are just raw moments for me. I believe
every mom has them at least once in blue moon. These times when I’m ‘going off the
deep end’ make me so aware of my desperate need for a Savior. I need God to rescue
me, to save me and to give me discernment, release that pride within, to forgive
me, and to simply love me. He never ceases to do all these things on a daily
basis. This is why I’m such a fan of His. I fail. I fall short. I don’t measure
up. But, God. He rescues me. He gets me out of that ugly pit and makes a way
for me to make things right again. He’s in the business of restoration and He
does that in my life moment to moment. He changes my attitude from only seeing
the negative to only seeing the positive, from whining to pure gratefulness. Where things look bleak, He sheds light and there is hope.
Where things seem two dimensional, He creates the three dimensional. He helps
me to slow down when life is speeding ahead. He helps me enjoy the noise and
take it all in with a heart of humility and gratitude. </div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8liJt27KWrh5IYtYsrG5MwAeMi2lORhJHpfgA_aoE8bRM6Fxv7xhM8CPFxHFS53Ck42Pxi4mRCOgV4XtYGSunPRoAI5WvRr2_dni7j3h1oIJHVjjLddGuEyiZO1UxRfvU860SgqWYALM/s1600/IMG_5826.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8liJt27KWrh5IYtYsrG5MwAeMi2lORhJHpfgA_aoE8bRM6Fxv7xhM8CPFxHFS53Ck42Pxi4mRCOgV4XtYGSunPRoAI5WvRr2_dni7j3h1oIJHVjjLddGuEyiZO1UxRfvU860SgqWYALM/s320/IMG_5826.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Silas told me to write this on the 'Thankful tree' leaf... how thankful I am for this too!</td></tr>
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I’m so thankful for my
life, not because it’s perfect but because it’s mine. Without my three little
men in my life I would be unchallenged, way more selfish and definitely more
vain. They challenge me, keep me grounded and show me what’s really important
in life. Through them, God is refining me, teaching me and loving me through
the whole thing. With Him I can be the kind of mom I’m proud to be- taking on
God’s love, kindness, patience and long suffering. Oh God, do I need that long
suffering- but without that martyr complex. <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span></div>
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<span style="color: #5c1101; font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12.5pt;">2 Corinthians 4:8-9<o:p></o:p></span></h3>
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<span id="en-ERV-28509"><span class="text2cor-4-8"><b><sup><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 9.5pt;">8 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text2cor-4-8"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12.5pt;">We have troubles all around us, but we are not defeated. We often
don’t know what to do, but we don’t give up.</span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12.5pt;"> </span></span><span id="en-ERV-28510"><span class="text2cor-4-9"><b><sup><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 9.5pt;">9 </span></sup></b></span><span class="text2cor-4-9"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12.5pt;">We are persecuted, but
God does not leave us. We are hurt sometimes, but we are not destroyed.</span></span></span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="font-family: Verdana; font-size: 12.5pt;"> </span></span></div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4125749751133422972.post-63947289813879423052012-11-13T01:00:00.000-05:002012-11-13T01:12:11.329-05:00Wallowing and an Unwavering God<br />
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<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Cannon had a sick day from school
today. He looked about as pathetic as ever with a double ear infection, strep
throat and terrible congestion. I figured it would be such a great day to just
relax together. He loves mommy dates and I was imagining this one to be extra
special with all day snuggles and cuddles just him and me. Reeve, my one year old,
needed to fall asleep so Cannon and I could leave on our date while my napping
husband stayed with the baby. After the baby already fell asleep, a glitch with
the fan woke him up again. We had our fingers crossed that he would fall back
asleep after the fan went back on a minute later, so we could leave. While
waiting on Reeve, I tried to snuggle Cannon in my arms, but in his true defiant
and difficult nature, he pulled away saying, “No! I don’t want you to hold me!”
He proceeded to fling himself on the floor and sit by himself completely
missing out on his mommy’s love. I felt I could cut the pride with a knife. I
really felt sad for him because he was missing out on feeling loved in my arms,
especially when he was so sick. I was wondering how much longer he was willing
to waste being stubborn. Watching him refuse something good when there was
absolutely no benefit to him, reminded me of the way I do the same thing in my
relationship with God.</span><br />
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></span>
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I wondered if God feels sad for us that
we’re missing out on His love when we choose to push Him away and wallow on the
floor all by ourselves. When we throw ourselves on the floor, away from His
loving arms, you know what I think He does? I think he waits earnestly for us
to come back to him. I know what He doesn’t do. He doesn’t sit there with His
arms crossed and begin plotting how he can get back at us for not making time
for him. There is no revenge, no stones, no “I told you so,” no disappointed
looks or judging fingers. He isn’t mad at us! God isn’t shaking his head at us, totally
frustrated and annoyed. God covers us with His perfect Son. When He looks at
us, He sees the redemption, the grace and the sufficiency of Christ. In a
sense, it doesn’t matter that we don’t measure up, that we make mistakes and
mess up. That’s why Christ died and with His last breath said, “It is
finished!” This is the heart of God. This is why He is so incredible. His grace
is nothing short of a miracle, a beautiful picture of His limitless and
boundless love. Maybe that’s why the chief end of man is to glorify God and
enjoy Him forever. He desires for us to sit on His lap and be enveloped in His
warm embrace. He wants us to find fullness of joy, live in His everlasting
freedom and simply enjoy Him and revel in His unimaginable love.</span></div>
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Those times with the Savior that we can schedule or sneak in
are life giving and life changing for <i>US</i>.
If we have even a smidge of feeling obligated or a sense of being ‘finished’
after a religious moment, like a checking off a duty, than we’ve missed it and
we’ve missed Him. We have to fight against seeking approval and acceptance in
the ‘doing.’ God operates on His doing, not ours. He’s already done the work.
Whatever work God chooses to do through us, should come from a heart of love
and adoration rather than a legalistic chore or some sort of ‘holy’ obligation.
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After a bunch of wasted time just sitting there on the
floor, my little boy decided that it was about time to snuggle with his mom.
So, releasing his stubbornness and pride, he got back on the couch, curled his
little three year old body into my side while I gently stroked his arm. I
didn’t scold him for waiting so long. I didn’t have a disapproving expression
on my face. I simply enjoyed him next to me in the same way God simply enjoys
us when we curl up to Him, no matter how long it’s been. I just took in the
moment. I thought to myself, “I love him so much!” and you know what? It was
the same thought I had when he was telling me “No!” and throwing himself all
over the floor. In the same sense- God loves us the same whether we haven’t
prayed in a month or if we’ve been praying from sun up to sun down. The benefit
from spending time with Him is all ours! It’s us that misses out if we choose
to be stubborn or not make it a priority. It’s us that suffers by carrying the
load, instead of letting our Savior carry it for us. It is us that knows peace,
love, joy, kindness, truth and freedom when we do spend time with him. The
benefit or the suffering is all ours and we can chose to be stubborn or to find
unspeakable love and joy in our Creator. God’s love toward us is constant, it
is available and it isn’t dependent on anything we do or don’t do. Take the
unwarranted guilt associated with not measuring up and throw it into the pit of
hell where it comes from. Don’t believe the lie.<br />
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We did end up getting the baby up and dressed and taking him
along on our mommy date, when it was obvious he wasn’t going back to sleep. Cannon
didn’t mind and was still thrilled to have a special day going to the library
and to the store. Even with the movies, ice cream and snacks, our favorite part
was just snuggling on the couch waiting for Reeve to fall asleep. I feel that
has to be God’s favorite part with His children, too. Maybe that’s why God
talks so much: </div>
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<i>…about rest. <o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<strong><span style="background: white;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Matthew+11:28&version=NIV"><span style="color: windowtext;">Matthew 11:28</span></a></span></strong><br />
<span style="background: white;">“Come to me, all<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>you<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>who are weary
and burdened, and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>will<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>give<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>you<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>rest.</span></div>
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<i>… and enjoying him<o:p></o:p></i></div>
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<u><span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Psalm 73:25-26<o:p></o:p></span></u></h3>
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<span class="textps-73-25"><b><sup><span style="font-size: 9pt;">“</span></sup></b>Whom have I in heaven but you?</span> <span class="textps-73-25">And earth has nothing I desire
besides you.</span> <span class="textps-73-26">My flesh and my heart</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textps-73-26">may fail,</span>
<span class="textps-73-26">but God is the strength</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textps-73-26">of my heart</span>
<span class="textps-73-26">and my portion</span><span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><span class="textps-73-26">forever.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span class="textps-73-26"><i>… and being still<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<strong><u><span style="background: white; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;"><a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm%2046:10&version=NKJV"><b><span style="color: windowtext;">Psalm 46:10</span></b></a></span></u></strong><br />
“<span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Be</span><span class="apple-converted-space"><span style="background: white;"> </span></span><span style="background: white; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">still</span><span style="background: white;">,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>and<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>know<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>that<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>am<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>God;<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>will<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>be<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>exalted<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>among the nations,<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>I<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>will<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>be<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>exalted<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span>in the earth!”<span class="apple-converted-space"> <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Question</span></b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">: Have your children
reminded you of the way you have a tendency to act toward God? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span class="apple-converted-space"><b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">Challenge</span></b><span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial;">: Out of a heart of love and expectancy,
carve out a moment or two with the Savior this week to reap the benefits of
knowing a loving God. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Mcpris214http://www.blogger.com/profile/01107818763646725896noreply@blogger.com0