tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-33442697407539386772024-03-09T21:46:10.819-05:00Kat's PauseKathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.comBlogger349125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-59406422169590917022021-08-27T16:49:00.009-04:002021-08-27T17:16:49.291-04:00DIVINE APPOINTMENT
Every Friday morning we have a small group of ladies who come to our villa for a Bible study. Today's was different.
Martha came in with, "I've had a hard morning." Just hours earlier she got a call that her grandson was dead, overdosed on drugs.
Doug and I prayed with her as the others came in one by one, learning her shocking news.
As Doug left the room, we ministered as only godly women can. It was one of my life's most powerful hours. My sister-in-love, Gwen, was our facilitator for this time together.
We listened. We wept. We passed around tissues. We prayed. Then we went to the Word as planned. Our text for the day was perfect because we serve a perfect, sovereign God. Gwen said, "Today's verses speak of peace beyond our understanding."
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGgDmaVLDnzxnCyTcwhFOYDMSrRKUhw-El95H8tr7sAFlclIy3OiWU64Qkib47WevlYiI2-he0jE2yu0zoZ_RRIbpTOJB61BH3AUKCuMIn1IFKm8LI07Apl7ZshyE9rWeYd9PvP3hLtw/s1024/312c0193f007449492080af01c7218bf.jpg" style="display: block; padding: 1em 0; text-align: center; "><img alt="" border="0" width="320" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghGgDmaVLDnzxnCyTcwhFOYDMSrRKUhw-El95H8tr7sAFlclIy3OiWU64Qkib47WevlYiI2-he0jE2yu0zoZ_RRIbpTOJB61BH3AUKCuMIn1IFKm8LI07Apl7ZshyE9rWeYd9PvP3hLtw/s320/312c0193f007449492080af01c7218bf.jpg"/></a></div>
We stood on holy ground as God ministered to and through us all.
In life's toughest struggles God manifests Himself and shouts to us in our pain. He delivers unfathomable peace and joy, just as His Word promises. We focused on all that was true, honorable, worthy of praise and He ushered in His PEACE and JOY. We even found laughter, like a heavenly medicine.
Gwen suggested we sing a song rather than pray to dismiss. We gathered around my piano and sang
"I've got peace like a river, I've got peace like a river, I've got peace like a river in my soul. . .
I've got joy like a fountain, I've got joy like a fountain, I've got joy like a fountain in my soul."
And we did!
After lunch I played chair volleyball with Martha's husband. I quietly spoke condolences and asked, "Did Martha tell you what happened today when we met?"
"No, not yet. But she came home different!"
Time with Jesus does that.Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-14869822584748123072020-12-14T17:25:00.007-05:002020-12-15T11:38:52.247-05:00<p style="text-align: center;"><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: large;"><i><b>KNEELING AT BETHLEHEM</b></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Silent Night</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>Not a creature is stirring</i></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i>All is calm</i></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><i><br /></i></span></div><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">These familiar phrases wrap this particular Christmas in a strange aura.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This 2020 season is so different from any other I’ve known. Last year we hosted not one, but TWO open houses here by this time. We had not one, but TWO trees fully decorated and glowing. </span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This year there’s no Christmas church program to direct, no choir cantata, no shopping for gifts, not even a tree. Doug and I have a blank calendar without parties to attend. Sounds sad, doesn’t it? But I’m not sad. Many folks are missing the normal hustle and bustle of Christmas.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I am not.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">I am quiet, still.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Yes, it is different, simpler but maybe I hear and see Him even better this year. He slipped into our world very simply, quietly too. Lowing cattle were His only cantata.</span></p><p style="text-align: left;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZa_OX3OGj9KH__WxwRgYKmxJWTV0UddICms2EmeOXL1wYQZbB71CITIHIrnq4z85ShpV5Li73_7shZSaD5Na74Ry7LCJX1m3vk4Rq_7hP3scVwr8NjuLXHo-de5Gnzq7_8R2jEUn7bQ/s1424/131372444_10224911854052499_5115430698504117774_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="1424" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcZa_OX3OGj9KH__WxwRgYKmxJWTV0UddICms2EmeOXL1wYQZbB71CITIHIrnq4z85ShpV5Li73_7shZSaD5Na74Ry7LCJX1m3vk4Rq_7hP3scVwr8NjuLXHo-de5Gnzq7_8R2jEUn7bQ/w521-h213/131372444_10224911854052499_5115430698504117774_o.jpg" width="521" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doug built this nativity. The Japanese maple hovers, like a scarlet canopy.<br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We did decorate the outside of our house so neighbors wouldn’t think us Scroogey. A few weeks ago I announced, “Doug, I have the perfect gift for you this year!” His expression was a question mark so I continued, “Let’s not put up a tree this year!” </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">He genuinely shouted, “Hallelujah!” To say he dislikes tree decorating is a huge understatement. A few days later I voiced a mild change of heart. He was having no part of that. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrD9NnWafMCvKRHiAf-HQUkrRTej9ghG1z27FGSBHYaf_gPqg1I1CCldhak1PJTHAzyxo6w1ACcG87QkZquiCZdDwmrJLw9FmGA-Re-DhmWC3oi61eX7Ox5IRxjwor8FolSrs0-HlNOw/s320/0-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="320" data-original-width="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHrD9NnWafMCvKRHiAf-HQUkrRTej9ghG1z27FGSBHYaf_gPqg1I1CCldhak1PJTHAzyxo6w1ACcG87QkZquiCZdDwmrJLw9FmGA-Re-DhmWC3oi61eX7Ox5IRxjwor8FolSrs0-HlNOw/s0/0-2.jpg" /></a></div><br />My sweet mentor, Nancy Sandgren, scolded me, “You CAN NOT not have a tree up! We’ll kick you out of Scotia!" A double negative from Nancy just means you better do it and pronto. </span><span style="font-family: arial;">So she loaned me a little table top tree of hers, already lit. Doug agreed to plug it in. Done! He can do 5 minute tree décor.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Terry Hill asked me to do door decoration judging. How? Virtually. “The pictures will come to your computer, Kathy.” So it’s a sofa task. Can do.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Chaplain Linda asked, “Can you and Doug sing and play a few carols to broadcast on our TV channel for Christmas week? “ Sure. So we did, with an iPad and a grand piano in an otherwise empty auditorium. Doug invited unseen friends to sing along. Maybe they will Christmas week. Maybe.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">All is still.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Quieter.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Some of our new friends are in pain. Harry’s wife died a few days ago. We knocked on his door as the sun set and prayed with him, six feet away and masked.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Our friend, Ron, lost his best friend to death last week. I phoned him to offer condolences and prayed as he wept audibly. Later I saw him in line for supper. I broke both rank and rules. I slipped up behind him and hugged him, my masked face to his back. He mustered, “Thank you.” I think it may be his first hug in months. A lady in line behind us teased, “Ohhh, I’m telling.” But she won’t, as her masked smile relayed.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">No gold, frankincense nor myrrh this year. Few gifts to wrap. Mostly checks and cash to family. But sometimes it’s just a phone call, a hug, a poinsettia, a carol played and sung or a prayer we offer. Quiet gifts. In His name.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Doug and I both have wondered why we are enjoying this strange year. Then the answer came yesterday.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">It was Sunday afternoon as I sunned in the backyard, soaking up the last warm rays of the year. Another dear mentor and friend, Linda McLester, waved and blew me kisses from two yards away. She too was sunning from her swing.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Minutes later she came over and handed me a book. “You know I adore your bones so I want you to enjoy this special book.” We chatted, relishing the goodness of God and our blessings, as we often do. She always mentions the woods and deer connecting our back yards. We both see it as a gift from the Father of Lights.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">After she left our love fest, I read half of the poetry book, Kneeling in Bethlehem by Ann Weems. It’s an old book, written over 40 years ago. With nowhere to go, nothing in particular to do, I savored each page and the message, so fitting for this quieter, stiller Christmas.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This Advent let’s go to Bethlehem</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And see this thing that the Lord has made known to us.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In the midst of shopping sprees</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Let’s ponder in our hearts the Gift of Gifts.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Through the tinsel</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Let’s look for the gold of the Christmas Star.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">In the excitement and confusion in the merry chaos,</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">Let’s listen for the brush of angels’ wings.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">This Advent, let’s go to Bethlehem</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both;"><span style="font-family: arial;">And find our kneeling places.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">That’s it! The poet describes exactly why we’re enjoying this Christmas in ways never before experienced. With the tinsel, bustle, chaos and sprees gone, the focus is clear, the message simple.</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">We have seen the Christ.</span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlDgp3_ZDDDrmufVKIdaaL9q04unAwUunvPq3rUWO8BrhuLvCoPmZDLZY_gADnNrxGDAAjelE12WLrCvRRvp7atfU6qMdO5sV-UbCu7K1jAFAPPSh-r3MQvbYEqrlXRgOFV3qaMAw2IY/s919/0-1.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="689" data-original-width="919" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizlDgp3_ZDDDrmufVKIdaaL9q04unAwUunvPq3rUWO8BrhuLvCoPmZDLZY_gADnNrxGDAAjelE12WLrCvRRvp7atfU6qMdO5sV-UbCu7K1jAFAPPSh-r3MQvbYEqrlXRgOFV3qaMAw2IY/s320/0-1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;">The one display we agreed to use this year fills our dining table and goes to the heart, taking us to Bethlehem that first quiet, simple Christmas.</span></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8JS5_bcE_CChoZz0az5bdQDjfmGdAaOkDB0nlV1zTFwGry0Qjp7adBJ0qBef2TcFrfSNCA1t8kSxYBobaWwWIrCzY3ZmmlISut7sT5RPrtf99EJAG3ZBH-0ZpVEwfxKZK6uCCgA_ECyM/s919/0.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="689" data-original-width="919" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg8JS5_bcE_CChoZz0az5bdQDjfmGdAaOkDB0nlV1zTFwGry0Qjp7adBJ0qBef2TcFrfSNCA1t8kSxYBobaWwWIrCzY3ZmmlISut7sT5RPrtf99EJAG3ZBH-0ZpVEwfxKZK6uCCgA_ECyM/s320/0.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-family: arial;"><br /></span></div><div><br /></div></div></div>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-86198966131438889132020-11-12T21:32:00.003-05:002020-11-12T21:36:54.999-05:00<p> <b>FINDING HUMOR IN GROWING OLD</b></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; 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text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheD7DTR-5_XJjS2oDO8iP0RmbkuoXiXWQ_3wCcjY1Gf7oSodKX_uL04lJHCn-uOIldKhhotTh1t9-75kCR6LCfOqOAjFuB3cHkuW7rstPmq5YdD30RS29pDHB00uo10MGM8q3o3WIL1Ys/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="480" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheD7DTR-5_XJjS2oDO8iP0RmbkuoXiXWQ_3wCcjY1Gf7oSodKX_uL04lJHCn-uOIldKhhotTh1t9-75kCR6LCfOqOAjFuB3cHkuW7rstPmq5YdD30RS29pDHB00uo10MGM8q3o3WIL1Ys/w267-h247/unnamed-3.jpg" width="267" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAOdmMIjs9u3qek9BIMg-FE873Ks8fkJfqrOFGlPFUhUmTAFYBvkNq3Jnp1-du-k4GcAUO5VrEUvNg6nIAHlGVvswlPxKdvYf3lPZUy_SvjJzKpDQnODl6KddqADJPq8SaXzDMANorBsI/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAOdmMIjs9u3qek9BIMg-FE873Ks8fkJfqrOFGlPFUhUmTAFYBvkNq3Jnp1-du-k4GcAUO5VrEUvNg6nIAHlGVvswlPxKdvYf3lPZUy_SvjJzKpDQnODl6KddqADJPq8SaXzDMANorBsI/" width="240" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_QZAbGuPhaTbSGUaK1h18AOkCP7h7n5E8x4LrKkI2mbI2y4ls47p12ZpaBkyXr5KnVEY7zooqvif9BbxDHX60_9GTy1P6MpsNd_8J94BnBmcNlLlNanfxyC8e309OfgZYnKDTysaY2Q/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="488" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgA_QZAbGuPhaTbSGUaK1h18AOkCP7h7n5E8x4LrKkI2mbI2y4ls47p12ZpaBkyXr5KnVEY7zooqvif9BbxDHX60_9GTy1P6MpsNd_8J94BnBmcNlLlNanfxyC8e309OfgZYnKDTysaY2Q/" width="244" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw8YVgkJ2qXKiN0PwusG-5bdK0udYYEAPLUjShUOLzs2OGL9XxXoRpCB6l4pnpMi1NYRMMdwQPEf98PtLbx9x0-HuYNaLZubNbGd9PjFf7TkwaLujrRhGB4t3KDo7fJxevs0WibYJOpq4/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="511" data-original-width="480" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgw8YVgkJ2qXKiN0PwusG-5bdK0udYYEAPLUjShUOLzs2OGL9XxXoRpCB6l4pnpMi1NYRMMdwQPEf98PtLbx9x0-HuYNaLZubNbGd9PjFf7TkwaLujrRhGB4t3KDo7fJxevs0WibYJOpq4/" width="225" /></a></div><br /><br /></b><p></p>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-10412035706676057712020-08-20T11:32:00.017-04:002020-08-20T22:43:51.295-04:00WHAT GOD IS TEACHING ME THROUGH COVID<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-peUdMwIMPCpq54uNIip6j0LeoWzGXGWTNJAbn7cjbbA6i3PSxF3dLT1-TE21lJuE4lA1pcWqCrXWaIp4bMMfgfHXyiHhfB22hBV49ho5u_ZzU4QrJbg6QPM8dWD2PE4bnQU7TAe95kQ/s242/OIP.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="180" data-original-width="242" height="298" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-peUdMwIMPCpq54uNIip6j0LeoWzGXGWTNJAbn7cjbbA6i3PSxF3dLT1-TE21lJuE4lA1pcWqCrXWaIp4bMMfgfHXyiHhfB22hBV49ho5u_ZzU4QrJbg6QPM8dWD2PE4bnQU7TAe95kQ/w400-h298/OIP.jpg" width="400" /></a></div> <p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: arial; font-size: 12pt;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The world is chaotic.<span> </span><span> <span> </span><span> <span> </span></span></span>Jesus is Peace.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Government is broken.<span> <span> </span><span> <span> </span></span></span>One day government will be on His shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Lies and distortions abound.<span> <span> </span></span>Jesus is Truth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Fear is contagious.<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Faith in Jesus is also contagious.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">World news is unsettling.<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>God’s Good News is reassuring.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The times are changing.<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>God is eternal.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Medical help may fail.<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Jesus heals souls eternally.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Focusing on events brings fear. Focusing on God brings faith.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Jobs and money may fail.<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Jehovah Jireh is my Provider.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Angry critics yammer.<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Praise invites God to inhabit us.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Complaining is easy.<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Counting blessings brings smiles.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Death and tears are common. God wipes all tears away.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Unrest disturbs our spirits. Music calms the soul.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Today is but one day.<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>God plants eternity within us. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Nothing makes sense.<span> </span><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>We will understand it better by and by. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><i>Sunday before last there was an earthquake here. Some felt it in the morning. I slept through it. That same evening a double rainbow appeared here. I didn't miss that!</i> (See below prayer.) <i>Both were solid reminders of the times in which we live and of God's promises and sovereignty.</i> </span><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMy1PmU8U89z2cEbf5z7jd_tYWkZC5UMekpX6qMHwBODjD6tm-lmiuWz2EEjUnTNS2OhdEu-4uG2JZXzB6zvt5ja3XSYiHoNRYvE2iExUi8OXDdwImx8YHe68k11CiVHrD35PdVnze1aA/s1024/MU-COVID-19-prayer-v4-1024x724.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="724" data-original-width="1024" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMy1PmU8U89z2cEbf5z7jd_tYWkZC5UMekpX6qMHwBODjD6tm-lmiuWz2EEjUnTNS2OhdEu-4uG2JZXzB6zvt5ja3XSYiHoNRYvE2iExUi8OXDdwImx8YHe68k11CiVHrD35PdVnze1aA/s640/MU-COVID-19-prayer-v4-1024x724.jpg" width="640" /></a></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">Right over our house here:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vlV0J1ywCfVhbTysbpHQL-TWaLYafOEUV7hJbxz7IDGOsrq5nRerQl0Ri4g-2n-zRrUOyBbFXT4AaOXLNyuWmzj6GIYUtbMcalbFmm4WmSduEfU5Wxjz-TTyvcyWda5EGeFYOt3w9yg/s600/118109822_10224008277303645_5575679226533322682_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8vlV0J1ywCfVhbTysbpHQL-TWaLYafOEUV7hJbxz7IDGOsrq5nRerQl0Ri4g-2n-zRrUOyBbFXT4AaOXLNyuWmzj6GIYUtbMcalbFmm4WmSduEfU5Wxjz-TTyvcyWda5EGeFYOt3w9yg/s0/118109822_10224008277303645_5575679226533322682_n.jpg" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">And our neighborhood:</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlAloOBi2lFin8KBxFLeJan1vUyJYUsumXRW_EMP9Kl-Az9nEwSFeltj8C2gWxNBzvCkdzuXweMpe6fDxEwJCn1J9qJBTT5qtSHRv1lk6NotFj42YQ-usjYBEZK6Q0YGtRnMf_Q_hQDVc/s600/117894832_10224008277063639_3376708330724553802_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlAloOBi2lFin8KBxFLeJan1vUyJYUsumXRW_EMP9Kl-Az9nEwSFeltj8C2gWxNBzvCkdzuXweMpe6fDxEwJCn1J9qJBTT5qtSHRv1lk6NotFj42YQ-usjYBEZK6Q0YGtRnMf_Q_hQDVc/s0/117894832_10224008277063639_3376708330724553802_n.jpg" /></a></div><div><br /></div><div> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #2b00fe;">His banner over me is love.</span></span><br /></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd40b8eronEwbWfzxsNFJqi-yHR9dhN4zckFLlPMyRPVCGZnkIe8oRmCY8Bxhn6XPxKAMRf0caSVoFa9xHjv6CNHQEBXnJfJ_EIwrr4sSgWWSh_KpTiofWdf9N6aUmXh2bBbRtGOk9vn4/s600/117912600_10224008277543651_264637184501554343_n.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="600" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd40b8eronEwbWfzxsNFJqi-yHR9dhN4zckFLlPMyRPVCGZnkIe8oRmCY8Bxhn6XPxKAMRf0caSVoFa9xHjv6CNHQEBXnJfJ_EIwrr4sSgWWSh_KpTiofWdf9N6aUmXh2bBbRtGOk9vn4/s0/117912600_10224008277543651_264637184501554343_n.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-48340682893906898222020-05-20T13:15:00.000-04:002020-05-20T18:06:55.623-04:00NANA, MAY I ASK YOU A QUESTION?<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Elizabeth, our oldest granddaughter, asked if she could ask me a question. That's her way. Most just pop it out, but gracious, considerate E asked for permission first. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Before I tell you what she asked, let me introduce you to our beautiful Elizabeth. Her passion runs deep and especially for Jesus.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZ7h5w4gB2fs7TyP3QIYi_8zYS7hNVtZCJqfZN5xvpw9ubzzWz6Kp27G8Z2i210Gz0mEddUhbH0ajsjBFXm-nvjrVDKAYCFsqN79Kmaa1BB2HeTVnMF5klb_aRKmQoESEoVLcWzHixTY/s1600/89904906_1110270019365633_2579336265946103808_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhZ7h5w4gB2fs7TyP3QIYi_8zYS7hNVtZCJqfZN5xvpw9ubzzWz6Kp27G8Z2i210Gz0mEddUhbH0ajsjBFXm-nvjrVDKAYCFsqN79Kmaa1BB2HeTVnMF5klb_aRKmQoESEoVLcWzHixTY/s320/89904906_1110270019365633_2579336265946103808_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdRN9lAnUcEHm893v8O6F32C4wNmG2Kuyt-DSuDyrrB5IR80scLq3-cvJMtjy2LhLeuTjkeIg3iROr5cfwEg6Xh3y0rYQ3KEJN9XijjEFvieVGNmGdJk-O8lE3g-qP434X6V17ss1HfX8/s1600/37984104_10217142954674870_5665242720201867264_o.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdRN9lAnUcEHm893v8O6F32C4wNmG2Kuyt-DSuDyrrB5IR80scLq3-cvJMtjy2LhLeuTjkeIg3iROr5cfwEg6Xh3y0rYQ3KEJN9XijjEFvieVGNmGdJk-O8lE3g-qP434X6V17ss1HfX8/s320/37984104_10217142954674870_5665242720201867264_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She's a wise 18 year old, going on 33. Why 33? Because Jesus was 33 and she is very Christlike. Oh, she's also very witty, goofy, mouthy and sarcastic. A lot like. . .me. We both have so many words that they overflow into writing.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GOkWoPlRUUezamgZ4UY4o_xyYEOaOo0QY_m8Kx6TOTelyKPjRq6IDQOJQiLAm-stLyFGA_CL9aRGid0GuxEASWeplZIqid-d2FyNmta-UffLGeIzkaQavYgeTahZ8UCLqESj_g-WPbs/s1600/37909121_10217142956154907_8149316783321382912_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9GOkWoPlRUUezamgZ4UY4o_xyYEOaOo0QY_m8Kx6TOTelyKPjRq6IDQOJQiLAm-stLyFGA_CL9aRGid0GuxEASWeplZIqid-d2FyNmta-UffLGeIzkaQavYgeTahZ8UCLqESj_g-WPbs/s400/37909121_10217142956154907_8149316783321382912_o.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me with Kimberly, E's mom.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: 12.8px;">Three generations at Home Good, stimulating the economy, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: 12.8px;">midst Covid19.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last Friday I flew to Florida for a long weekend with Kimberly, our first born, and family. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was time to break out of isolation and what better place than the Sunshine state? </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We laughed, cried, talked, played games, watched a Redbox movie (I Still Believe--recommend it), shopped, sunned by a pool and ate extremely well. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Before I get to <i style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="color: blue;">THE QUESTION</span> </i>Elizabeth asked me, she posed a second question with a quicker answer. "Nana, I'm learning to drive. Want to take a ride with me through the neighborhood?" Those last three words made my answer a ready yes. After all, I'd survived a spin with Sean, another grand, through his neighborhood. I'm a much better sidekick with my grands learning to drive than I was as a mother of three teens when they learned!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">During our ride, ranging in speed from 4-11 mph, she asked if she could ask me a question.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Sure."</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn-aUI3o4Z2CNpM2shIoo-gLfImeRusTLWoJti22rJd8Ay7OBJhCE7iGMUHE5wd8ooNbLlhSo5NDqx92H7A0PkCgTH3JNI4prCG8HHoNArOufRxZ28398zXfjT5l3pJXhNw6dzJV62eEY/s1600/download-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn-aUI3o4Z2CNpM2shIoo-gLfImeRusTLWoJti22rJd8Ay7OBJhCE7iGMUHE5wd8ooNbLlhSo5NDqx92H7A0PkCgTH3JNI4prCG8HHoNArOufRxZ28398zXfjT5l3pJXhNw6dzJV62eEY/s400/download-1.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">"Nana, why are you always so happy?"</span> </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNoEIby74teiRxJNT3OhPltLNRi1dAdkfmf_r_oBwq3nUGikhc2lXrD_9pdCOjA7Os8QYDOqavoTuOasuSDkHBCAIEhqPPMD5qoMd3GeaStJNlpHm2g-mWylrLegZ29URy5xzMioDBBLc/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNoEIby74teiRxJNT3OhPltLNRi1dAdkfmf_r_oBwq3nUGikhc2lXrD_9pdCOjA7Os8QYDOqavoTuOasuSDkHBCAIEhqPPMD5qoMd3GeaStJNlpHm2g-mWylrLegZ29URy5xzMioDBBLc/s400/download.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">At first I was stunned at her perception of me, thinking to myself, <i>Well, I'm not ALWAYS happy. </i>So my honest answer at first was, "I have feelings too," meaning other feelings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Kimberly, her mom, quipped back teasing me in a cute pout, "Yeah. <b>I have feelings too." </b>We laughed at her poochie lip.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then I gave her my serious answer, never really thinking about it before her question. "Elizabeth, I don't believe there's a difference between the word happiness and joy. Some do and relate it to circumstances. My source is the Lord, pure and simple."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She nodded her little philosophical head. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWzxxDmAUCC0BkHnndCoa5eHZ_BUxPjTczutuz1DoIEZS0RhVJkxj86o5yP4Hyt2EXM8eMmKdTb7fPRv7A40sKwdVZR64ySfNKbwt4o2QfhLs4pghKqPK4SsU1hE6DQ41kE1u9BbYC7s/s1600/download-2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJWzxxDmAUCC0BkHnndCoa5eHZ_BUxPjTczutuz1DoIEZS0RhVJkxj86o5yP4Hyt2EXM8eMmKdTb7fPRv7A40sKwdVZR64ySfNKbwt4o2QfhLs4pghKqPK4SsU1hE6DQ41kE1u9BbYC7s/s400/download-2.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So I continued, "When I do have negative emotions, like fear or hurt, I just don't linger there. <i>'You can sit on the pity pot. Just don't stay there long enough to get ring-around-the-hiney.' </i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's a choice and I choose joy. I want to be happy so I rely on the joy of the Lord. It's His joy just spilling into me, if I allow it to flow. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He gave me an optimistic outlook in life, but it's still a choice.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> So I choose not to dwell on the negative, but instead look beyond that and see Him. Then His steadfast joy absorbs me."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She seemed satisfied. So the discussion ended.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Since then, however, I've mulled a bit on her question. Several tidbits surfaced:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">* I'm thankful to be seen as a happy person.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">* Thankfulness is also at the root of my joy.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">* Kimberly as a young child expressed it, "I'm thankful we have a lot of <i>laughness </i>in our family."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">* Humor is a huge contributor to our collective family happiness. Sometimes it's wacky and borderline inappropriate but often breaks through and demolishes the mulligrubs!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">* Mostly I'm thankful for God's Sovereignty in my life, knowing the final chapter will end in eternal joy. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejV21BdQyiJNEtteqzFpfWmlDzVvuUHbqvYNZhR2Ck8QFWDRq0OwbY-51maLULWCx_h8gvHQRc_ACtNEwxMfMkTCtHHchzg1EEry0_xSdDhsJCDN5MEwVdbrdKfJaoTd0Ga3zFx86_vQ/s1600/OIP.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiejV21BdQyiJNEtteqzFpfWmlDzVvuUHbqvYNZhR2Ck8QFWDRq0OwbY-51maLULWCx_h8gvHQRc_ACtNEwxMfMkTCtHHchzg1EEry0_xSdDhsJCDN5MEwVdbrdKfJaoTd0Ga3zFx86_vQ/s320/OIP.jpg" width="214" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidvFgZQNhKqMvnW3jO2K-ZzHO9roQDAGwfrVk4rIOn5CTkjh_FLHSepB-cm517fer5vCWEoQk8a_cmphQTDI44NlZFcNBM5B9H3PipsAr0xMU2mq5MYyqE5cLSDWobnPUgauU7JmG9AEI/s1600/download-3.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidvFgZQNhKqMvnW3jO2K-ZzHO9roQDAGwfrVk4rIOn5CTkjh_FLHSepB-cm517fer5vCWEoQk8a_cmphQTDI44NlZFcNBM5B9H3PipsAr0xMU2mq5MYyqE5cLSDWobnPUgauU7JmG9AEI/s400/download-3.jpg" /></a></span>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So why not pray, "Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven" and begin that happiness here and now? Then just ride that joy tide right into eternal glory!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-37572181162354806262020-05-12T21:46:00.007-04:002020-09-18T20:21:31.627-04:00MOTHER'S DAY<br />
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<i>One of my sweetest gifts came on Mother's Day from my firstborn. Kimberly reminded me of the title she bestowed on me when she made me a mother. Then a lifetime of blessings followed through Kent and Katy. Facebook was her stage and podium.</i></h5>
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<h5 class="_7tae _14f3 _14f5 _5pbw _5vra" data-ft="{"tn":"C"}" id="js_5b" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; font-weight: normal; line-height: 1.38; margin: 0px 0px 2px; padding: 0px 22px 0px 0px;"><span style="color: #616770; font-family: inherit; font-size: 12px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2KwYYZJGc8doHa_cx9zb6BQyXr92lDh4mBvy854mTe9uwCz2O49kfPlprJWTmYm0DStesb4b12VTF7a4ioZUYN9dORANtQSLR2HsTLemLW-wS08eseyDbsn-W00-pUPHlp9Yg9zTnmEY/s726/96415421_10158191059079451_2768059491164356608_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="586" data-original-width="726" height="323" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2KwYYZJGc8doHa_cx9zb6BQyXr92lDh4mBvy854mTe9uwCz2O49kfPlprJWTmYm0DStesb4b12VTF7a4ioZUYN9dORANtQSLR2HsTLemLW-wS08eseyDbsn-W00-pUPHlp9Yg9zTnmEY/w400-h323/96415421_10158191059079451_2768059491164356608_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFl4sJbECwYTSSrZOSzoVkT3nAAgcw5CSQ6UGzMXVmKVPU4OUV0J8bn2vdQxtBfZbtcWsXsWSVeC30PTbAzliwBoOJsu9GxxOh_h7JUYwimhY__8GGFjL27GLt20azkGlOpMvA-mf1W8I/s2048/96698164_10158191076174451_3393497275962490880_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1463" data-original-width="2048" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFl4sJbECwYTSSrZOSzoVkT3nAAgcw5CSQ6UGzMXVmKVPU4OUV0J8bn2vdQxtBfZbtcWsXsWSVeC30PTbAzliwBoOJsu9GxxOh_h7JUYwimhY__8GGFjL27GLt20azkGlOpMvA-mf1W8I/w400-h286/96698164_10158191076174451_3393497275962490880_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1goyxQBCE9h8SO_ueJTmfgmdBeBaLFoOXVj4V3MqkuYcb4v4esWQnECxjSzFzS1cI8jATTIRriMwm1LtIAYySpW0cR1F4tdDBq-vxChl-FnHgoLETyjjutoV-DCRvb9JXAsW5H3mSo9U/s2048/96154807_10158191069464451_2068990006814310400_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1276" data-original-width="2048" height="249" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1goyxQBCE9h8SO_ueJTmfgmdBeBaLFoOXVj4V3MqkuYcb4v4esWQnECxjSzFzS1cI8jATTIRriMwm1LtIAYySpW0cR1F4tdDBq-vxChl-FnHgoLETyjjutoV-DCRvb9JXAsW5H3mSo9U/w400-h249/96154807_10158191069464451_2068990006814310400_o.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /></span></h5><div class="_5pcp _5lel _2jyu _232_" data-testid="story-subtitle" id="feed_subtitle_1499732665:380012442173047258" style="color: #616770; font-family: inherit; position: relative;"><div class="_6a _g4r _43_1 _nws _21o- _fol" style="display: inline-block; font-family: inherit; margin: -5px -5px -4px -4px; padding: 0px;"><div class="_6a uiPopover" id="u_fetchstream_5_y" style="display: inline-block; font-family: inherit;"><a aria-expanded="false" aria-haspopup="true" aria-label="Shared with This is Kimberly's post. It's been shared with: Public" class="_42ft _4jy0 _55pi _5vto _55_p _2agf _4o_4 _401v _p _1zg8 _3m8n _4jy3 _517h _51sy _59pe" data-hover="tooltip" data-tooltip-content="This is Kimberly's post. It's been shared with: Public" href="https://www.facebook.com/kathy.t.henderson?__tn__=%2CdC-R-R&eid=ARBEYTI6iOn4kB271_qH9HfsgNWqxehbOUM1NP3E9cw_l3IHdvaYudqmPXav0rqoWbJGv-v9jmZ09qf6&hc_ref=ARQQZJSe2m2dozZKIui2c83ILqDgWSCzcsTNaCk8iVYJfNkJATjRQNGLpMrVjBXn1hY&fref=nf#" id="u_fetchstream_5_z" rel="toggle" role="button" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background: none; border-radius: 2px; border: 1px solid transparent; box-sizing: content-box; color: #4267b2; cursor: pointer; display: inline-flex; font-family: inherit; font-weight: bold; justify-content: center; line-height: 22px; max-width: 26px; overflow-wrap: normal; padding: 0px 3px; position: relative; text-align: center; text-decoration-line: none; text-shadow: none; transition: background-color 200ms cubic-bezier(0.08, 0.52, 0.52, 1) 0s, box-shadow 200ms cubic-bezier(0.08, 0.52, 0.52, 1) 0s, transform 200ms cubic-bezier(0.08, 0.52, 0.52, 1) 0s; vertical-align: middle; white-space: nowrap;"><span class="_-xe _3-8_" style="font-family: inherit; margin-right: 4px;"><i class="_21or img sp_3WjsM_Ff6zu sx_089b6e" style="background-image: url("/rsrc.php/v3/yl/r/b2IBzgoZtrX.png"); background-position: -26px -263px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: auto; bottom: 1px; display: inline-block; height: 12px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 12px;"></i></span><span class="accessible_elem" style="clip: rect(1px, 1px, 1px, 1px); font-family: inherit; height: 1px; overflow: hidden; position: absolute; width: 1px;"><span class="_55pe" style="color: #999999; display: inline-block; flex: 0 1 auto; font-family: inherit; overflow: hidden; text-overflow: ellipsis; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span class="_4o_3" style="font-family: inherit;"><i class="img sp_JkEktAkVFDr sx_3b3c73" style="background-image: url("/rsrc.php/v3/y5/r/h51cIRDcA8u.png"); background-position: -28px -194px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: auto; bottom: 1px; display: inline-block; height: 8px; position: relative; vertical-align: middle; width: 9px;"></i></span></a></div>
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<div class="_5pbx userContent _3576" data-ft="{"tn":"K"}" data-testid="post_message" id="js_5d" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: 14px; line-height: 1.38; margin-top: 6px;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; vertical-align: middle;"><span style="color: #90949c; font-family: Arial;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/kimberly.h.grainger/posts/10158191082719451"><span style="color: #616770; text-decoration-line: none;">May 10 at 3:46 PM</span></a></span><span style="color: #616770; font-family: Arial;"> · <o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;">So, my mama's better (and funnier and wackier and cooler) than yours was a game I won. Every. Time. I'm convinced that some of my dates, when I was a teen were guys actually crushing on my mom (sheesh).<br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;">Requiring costumes for airport pickups, impromptu (daily!!) singalongs, giggly ugly hat try-ons (often unappreciated by sales staff) were just everyday life with Mom. There's a reason Brian and <a href="https://www.facebook.com/karen.t.hampton?__tn__=%2CdK-R-R&eid=ARBtWHndHiChxVIx_k9Glj8x59P3K1m_FXd5LLKUWDbjahBdI_0cAZi41JICUvNeeEPctrf741AqBVve&fref=mentions" title="Karen Tippett Hampton"><span style="color: #385898;">Karen Tippett Hampton</span></a> call her "Crazy Aunt Kathy."</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;"><br />Impressively, she's also a passionate Jesus-follower, authentic before it was cool, secure in her identity, and warrior-conqueror through soul-crushing trials. She truly leans on Jesus. Her humility, love for Christ, energy and natural leadership are magnetic.<br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;">Now, incredibly, she was a stay-at-home mom, packing lunches with love notes, supporting us through learning multiple instruments and hobbies, cheering our academic progress and just teaching old-fashioned life skills.<br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;">She did it all with such grace and zaniness (sooo much wacky, dark humor. We choose to embrace our weirdness). She balanced mercy and truth. She championed us, yet kicked our butts, when needed.<br />She set the bar high for motherhood, then grandmotherhood.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; color: black; font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 4.5pt;"><span style="color: #1c1e21; font-family: Arial;"><br />Thanks, Mom, for everything.<o:p></o:p></span></div><a ajaxify="/ufi/reaction/profile/dialog/?ft_ent_identifier=ZmVlZGJhY2s6MTAxNTgxOTEwODI3MTk0NTE%3D&reaction_type=1&av=1499732665" aria-label="35 Like" class="_1n9l" href="https://www.facebook.com/ufi/reaction/profile/browser/?ft_ent_identifier=ZmVlZGJhY2s6MTAxNTgxOTEwODI3MTk0NTE%3D&av=1499732665" rel="dialog" role="button" style="color: #385898; cursor: pointer; font-family: inherit; font-size: 11px; text-decoration-line: none;" tabindex="0"><i class="q9uorilb l9j0dhe7 hm271qws ov9facns khgy6jzf sp_3wtxT9vJQQr sx_9afa8b" role="img" style="background-image: url("/rsrc.php/v3/yl/r/8u3iujuyMm-.png"); background-position: -68px -1198px; background-repeat: no-repeat; background-size: auto; display: inline-block; height: 18px; position: relative; vertical-align: top; width: 18px;"></i></a></div>
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Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-66818597349087873172020-04-28T00:56:00.005-04:002020-04-28T17:10:32.349-04:00<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;">
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">SCOTIA’S TRIAL<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<i><span style="font-family: "arial";">(May be sung to the tune of GILLIGAN’S ISLE)</span></i></div>
<br />
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-ylaXqeWOav9sDSnl61Uhv5q-mXhKjm7LASgQXS0r3NfLHmXenobZ2dbN-npAf0XaqbQG-KJsbN6TTPzjaQjg5YwfA3CVvpLTGMFi2bLwAQdxAnUXjFLaTocn9k2_Zi6us64ISmqu4g/s1600/MV5BMjM1Mjg3NzU4M15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwNzE3ODMyMTE%2540._V1_UY1200_CR79%252C0%252C630%252C1200_AL_.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="630" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEij-ylaXqeWOav9sDSnl61Uhv5q-mXhKjm7LASgQXS0r3NfLHmXenobZ2dbN-npAf0XaqbQG-KJsbN6TTPzjaQjg5YwfA3CVvpLTGMFi2bLwAQdxAnUXjFLaTocn9k2_Zi6us64ISmqu4g/s320/MV5BMjM1Mjg3NzU4M15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTgwNzE3ODMyMTE%2540._V1_UY1200_CR79%252C0%252C630%252C1200_AL_.jpg" width="168" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;"><i> Our</i><b> </b><i>Scotia Village Retirement Community had a poetry contest recently. After a week at the beach Doug and I were quarantined to our villa for two weeks. So with time on our hands, he worked in the yard and I wrote this poem. It won FIRST PLACE. My prize was a golden roll of toilet paper, now proudly displayed in our curio cabinet. It could become one of the most valuable pieces in our collection!</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;"><i> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8fcVYQ_-t8vHLjR2ydSdNJzZ7DySv-ZP069vsfGQMyJjAQpnKXtJx5RDzmFP2sMXrUQ2_5I3IqA8C6E6Q5NpqLs1JXOUzyT6KItkcOshRy36bfVdwLvP8s_n7_ViYgjgzDSj3ikFV3Iw/s1600/95563781_665873620902435_202958975925223424_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8fcVYQ_-t8vHLjR2ydSdNJzZ7DySv-ZP069vsfGQMyJjAQpnKXtJx5RDzmFP2sMXrUQ2_5I3IqA8C6E6Q5NpqLs1JXOUzyT6KItkcOshRy36bfVdwLvP8s_n7_ViYgjgzDSj3ikFV3Iw/s400/95563781_665873620902435_202958975925223424_n.jpg" width="400" /></a> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLStUnORVDcNYrUFVEOl1xL7ynaAyB7g9EEtlRQ5qTtvIoO0p7u3FwSuaA0MGhH0PBWkyRIcPS_vc-FzlXJjrsL782VAvQdLOAyGvDRFCiKaJdJ7XclfUC1hbiB9DvE-bOvwvRVSuJkx0/s1600/95143429_290035458656646_8599869658809499648_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLStUnORVDcNYrUFVEOl1xL7ynaAyB7g9EEtlRQ5qTtvIoO0p7u3FwSuaA0MGhH0PBWkyRIcPS_vc-FzlXJjrsL782VAvQdLOAyGvDRFCiKaJdJ7XclfUC1hbiB9DvE-bOvwvRVSuJkx0/s400/95143429_290035458656646_8599869658809499648_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14pt;">SCOTIA’S TRIAL<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial";">(May be sung to the tune of GILLIGAN’S ISLE)<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Just sit right back and you’ll hear a tale<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">A tale of a special place<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Called Scotia Village standing proud<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">With challenges to face.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>With challenges to face.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Our leader was a mighty man<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Named Allen brave and sure<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">His residents and staff had plans<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">To keep us all secure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>To keep us all secure.</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">We must adjust, save gas and reach<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">For one more magazine.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Protection for our friends now means<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Remain in quarantine!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>Remain in quarantine!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">The virus started getting rough<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Our neighborhood was tossed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">If not for the courage of the fearless crew<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>All Scotia would be lost!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The grocery shelves were running low<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">On toilet paper first.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Then food became a premium.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">The battle’s getting worse!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>The battle’s getting worse!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">But Ken and Steve with mighty staff<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Provided meals to go.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">We even got our ice cream treats<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>Delivered like a show!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">Then Ellen led our exercise<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Just bring your 2 tin cans and come.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Be careful not to fall!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">We’ll get through this 6 feet apart<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">If everyone complies.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Trust God, He’ll meet our every need.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">Through saints He still supplies!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; font-size: 12pt; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";"><i>Through saints He still supplies!</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><b><span style="background-color: #ead1dc; color: magenta; font-size: large;">HERE AT SCOTIA VILLAGE!</span></b><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-23971544222932733332020-02-26T21:27:00.002-05:002020-04-28T01:05:28.936-04:00WE WAITED 40 YEARS FOR YESTERDAY'S APPOINTMENT<!--[if !mso]>
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<div align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-family: "arial";">“Mrs. Henderson, would you be interested in
helping our school next door with their book fair?</span><span style="font-family: "arial";"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial";">We’d like to inspire students to write and
wondered if you’d be willing to host a Meet An Author session.”</span><span style="font-family: "arial";"> </span></div>
</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">It was billed as a gala evening with
students, parents, teachers and a few authors, even a story-teller.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I gladly agreed. Last night was a grand success as I talked with several budding authors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">In preparation, on Monday I asked Doug, “Any idea where my box of
writing is stored?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After searching we
finally found it!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As I plundered through
magazines and newspaper pieces, I found this:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioYATvpFsb12m5wGv9ilBhpGlfU9sbn2euQYAvCTCArV-1MLIrdFZHIckAuH4bs6UsWgsHmNIoIdFCR8dXrYMt5g38_2UHEJhH2K9728540t0mqNqPxWnSwECxqQOztrPlYe8Jq1xHVZo/s1600/87854972_10222150448219079_1318326338762833920_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioYATvpFsb12m5wGv9ilBhpGlfU9sbn2euQYAvCTCArV-1MLIrdFZHIckAuH4bs6UsWgsHmNIoIdFCR8dXrYMt5g38_2UHEJhH2K9728540t0mqNqPxWnSwECxqQOztrPlYe8Jq1xHVZo/s640/87854972_10222150448219079_1318326338762833920_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Almost 40 years ago I had written the editor of
Raleigh’s News and Observer about recent news.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Unable to recall the details, I Googled it and read about Delta Force
attempting to rescue the 52 American hostages held in Iran.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The effort ended in tragedy with helicopters down and death to our
soldiers.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMbB1oq3ki2rkgYB9b5srTvbyXiy98dlV73ObwI6UKwIs-3ILzRgKGfYdqbJmcAGBRsgYi_K6bsb3Q4OvUgShxHfwsSHJowWQsU847v4JxAhJI-aR4KHyt0RolMHMQg37rN4OB_UfOrM/s1600/74229555_10221199955297350_3342680154924122112_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhMbB1oq3ki2rkgYB9b5srTvbyXiy98dlV73ObwI6UKwIs-3ILzRgKGfYdqbJmcAGBRsgYi_K6bsb3Q4OvUgShxHfwsSHJowWQsU847v4JxAhJI-aR4KHyt0RolMHMQg37rN4OB_UfOrM/s400/74229555_10221199955297350_3342680154924122112_n.jpg" width="305" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">I gasped, realizing my next door neighbor,
Dennis Wolfe, was a member of that special forces group.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew he was part of Operation Eagle
Claw.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Doug saw him later yesterday morning,
“Dennis, got a minute to come over?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Kathy has something for you to read.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">He sat across from me yesterday on our sofa as I handed
him the yellowed clipping.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><i>"To the Editor:</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><i>Not since soldiers like my dad returned from World War II have we felt such pride in our country and gratitude to God. The events of the last 14 months have had one positive effect--unity for our country. </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><i>The true heroes, however, are the eight noble men who gave their lives in the rescue attempt. Each made the conscious choice to risk his life to save others and our national honor. Their families are to be admired for their continued patriotism, even in their loss. Such brave men throughout history have endowed us with our precious freedom.</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><i>Kathy Henderson</i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><i>Jan. 28, 1981"</i></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">He read
silently then grinned hugely, moved by my patriotism even back then as a young
mother of 3.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He met my eyes and I said,
“Once again, I thank you for your service.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQvuEWokdWSKPOSIA9S0p08LL-GA2_0rcJ5ScnFFP5916_Ksey-EEsU4y3H-WUX98dDzOY3_ovbyMNXKwBbf1COzo4QPkkmVRGraXTAUhHq7qeBke5VRMm9c3VAK92fqQOZ7TASeRIvHA/s1600/77025202_10221199955817363_5436840847641411584_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQvuEWokdWSKPOSIA9S0p08LL-GA2_0rcJ5ScnFFP5916_Ksey-EEsU4y3H-WUX98dDzOY3_ovbyMNXKwBbf1COzo4QPkkmVRGraXTAUhHq7qeBke5VRMm9c3VAK92fqQOZ7TASeRIvHA/s400/77025202_10221199955817363_5436840847641411584_n.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“Can I get a copy of this?”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> he asked. </span>Doug took it to our copier.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We both realized this was not just a
coincidence but a divine appointment, almost 40 years in the making.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shook his head adding, “You never imagined
when you wrote it that we’d be next door neighbors, did you, Kathy?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“No, but God did.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Then we spent the next hour just talking about
His hand in our lives, weaving the tapestry, bringing us into the persons we
are today.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]--></span><span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">DENNIS:
one of 6 kids. . .few jobs in his small Pennsylvania town. . . fresh out of high school, enlisting in the
Army.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Three recruiting stations stood in a row, before him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He reached for the
Navy office.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Out to lunch.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Then the Air Force door.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Locked.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Third try was Army.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He shared the
twists and turns of life that seemed random at the time but led him into
becoming the military’s point man for dismantling weapons of mass destruction,
whether atomic, nuclear or chemical.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Awards. Medals.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A building named
after him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Four U.S. Presidents he’d protected supporting Secret Service. </span><br />
<br />
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=7&v=vqcLJaVic48&feature=emb_logo">Dennis Wolf's Story of Military Valor</a> <i><span style="color: blue;">click here</span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">KATHY: young mother of 3 just beginning to
write. . .Jack Williams, Contact editor, her mentor. . .Navy brat of an
officer. . .her daddy instilled deep patriotism in her heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial";">News of fallen soldiers moved her to write the
newspaper.</span><span style="font-family: "arial";"> </span><span style="font-family: "arial";">Unknown soldiers.</span></div>
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPlZnm-seVz3L-6WsR_39r234YGElog1HfIZKHeSOl3iSfdB2XD55XjMeZLsrwMio9j10ndrjncAs05-YFR-ZcmlDZ1ADNoVTg_Q7UfPPSKVbiu77Xrl1ayErtUDBZAGhWTmY8jVfjrzw/s1600/Kathy%2527s+60th+038.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="626" data-original-width="976" height="256" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPlZnm-seVz3L-6WsR_39r234YGElog1HfIZKHeSOl3iSfdB2XD55XjMeZLsrwMio9j10ndrjncAs05-YFR-ZcmlDZ1ADNoVTg_Q7UfPPSKVbiu77Xrl1ayErtUDBZAGhWTmY8jVfjrzw/s400/Kathy%2527s+60th+038.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy as a Naval officer</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim6J4odrj38mR_J2OLqBTXc5r781M7VJKLOaJHTY1IqVjDuWlT4K4YEfuBlbEVGTs8JfWQPK0t8laN5PXkyQOCYNvB91_7LhFqYVl3eURXj_oiRVuLPhDNJI947OoZuc-NP9Zcdvlp1Do/s1600/10401477_10203900155773174_4500526830777087552_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim6J4odrj38mR_J2OLqBTXc5r781M7VJKLOaJHTY1IqVjDuWlT4K4YEfuBlbEVGTs8JfWQPK0t8laN5PXkyQOCYNvB91_7LhFqYVl3eURXj_oiRVuLPhDNJI947OoZuc-NP9Zcdvlp1Do/s200/10401477_10203900155773174_4500526830777087552_n.jpg" width="145" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy as an enlisted man</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">But yesterday I heard first hand from one of
those soldiers who DID know them and grieved back then. Together we grieved again
almost half a century later.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkqUsdJzC4jiCj2iEh3uZUcl-dr2zvUzJSj5HAnafVOand72qz_76CcmTwNncG1stYeJ9AYjk0S5bMXe-MDtRD00xUbTobVRuSPtm_K2-geU0IhEY9jV6I88XD8M88tq9AyAVbmZn8DbU/s1600/10391415_10203900160733298_8171270754155916195_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkqUsdJzC4jiCj2iEh3uZUcl-dr2zvUzJSj5HAnafVOand72qz_76CcmTwNncG1stYeJ9AYjk0S5bMXe-MDtRD00xUbTobVRuSPtm_K2-geU0IhEY9jV6I88XD8M88tq9AyAVbmZn8DbU/s400/10391415_10203900160733298_8171270754155916195_n.jpg" width="400" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“Dennis, do you think God had this planned all
along?”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">“Absolutely.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I used to think things like this were coincidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No more.”</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4RzGY_MpN7zl9cBPaMkuxHZygyAbqtHUAkvg6yHqEJ2_i4Sww2j2MtKcgt1MtmELMhTyb2fmjP_Nkw7SuJg7OFacEYAOEN6VC5_EhO7bpi_ERAbcZZ_4MtGFbRyNpPHqz766RcuLpEZQ/s1600/82642408_10221736075540021_1111805074012635136_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4RzGY_MpN7zl9cBPaMkuxHZygyAbqtHUAkvg6yHqEJ2_i4Sww2j2MtKcgt1MtmELMhTyb2fmjP_Nkw7SuJg7OFacEYAOEN6VC5_EhO7bpi_ERAbcZZ_4MtGFbRyNpPHqz766RcuLpEZQ/s320/82642408_10221736075540021_1111805074012635136_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dennis (in black) took a trip with us recently to Hamlet Train Depot and museum. <br />
Friday we're going back for the buffet again!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial";">We enjoy our new neighbors. Dennis and Corlee Wolf joined us for our Christmas Open House and he helped Doug place our Nativity. Next day, he called out to me, twinkle in his eye, "Hey Kathy! Last night my OCD kicked in and if those wise men are supposed to be coming from the East, we got it wrong." (Strategic planners never quit!)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">"It's OK, Dennis. Theologically they're also a couple of years early. You and Doug can get it right next Christmas!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjDvuBQEtuHNK5d9NE_-NXs448AQLDDWHB7-LS3vQu3oXlzq2l2Hn3gYuOZHwu1jszw2Qpg6aWdzaGWw_5-Tg5GNMzXS2lcAaAuOGRHjh96o3sGBL0KK-pWPJaPZE_TjNk-WAQyUcoW0/s1600/87890160_10222150570702141_1255992108301418496_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSjDvuBQEtuHNK5d9NE_-NXs448AQLDDWHB7-LS3vQu3oXlzq2l2Hn3gYuOZHwu1jszw2Qpg6aWdzaGWw_5-Tg5GNMzXS2lcAaAuOGRHjh96o3sGBL0KK-pWPJaPZE_TjNk-WAQyUcoW0/s320/87890160_10222150570702141_1255992108301418496_n.jpg" width="288" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HiadT-DFNcsTdVzIsAMXx_p7QGqBDV0MjeGACv5MXHLGZwiYtrEOKwjElvNhXHo-larDLv2Rtm6AOKX7qZMzpZ_hrq4p39UlnHycmJ-J-zSTSrnDQhTnOLohMY7tgQj5kBlr49J5FT4/s1600/87454862_10222150570142127_68598079485378560_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1HiadT-DFNcsTdVzIsAMXx_p7QGqBDV0MjeGACv5MXHLGZwiYtrEOKwjElvNhXHo-larDLv2Rtm6AOKX7qZMzpZ_hrq4p39UlnHycmJ-J-zSTSrnDQhTnOLohMY7tgQj5kBlr49J5FT4/s320/87454862_10222150570142127_68598079485378560_n.jpg" width="193" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEzDrbCBnNMxlHNmiSL6L_yLtUo9XQJGnN3PuwrDXkrhUkyvFhVhyphenhypheny1eq0US9NNWzATyumD0bJciRzGEiMEEe_r2oIOQe9VxRZgxzkPzObggk1yj6f5vMHbCswn5Fz7A27Uc4ReYtGO0/s1600/87457244_10222150570982148_643474581562064896_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaEzDrbCBnNMxlHNmiSL6L_yLtUo9XQJGnN3PuwrDXkrhUkyvFhVhyphenhypheny1eq0US9NNWzATyumD0bJciRzGEiMEEe_r2oIOQe9VxRZgxzkPzObggk1yj6f5vMHbCswn5Fz7A27Uc4ReYtGO0/s320/87457244_10222150570982148_643474581562064896_n.jpg" width="83" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUX1PjPKriyGJVlfGW8E5JFFVnOa4qe_w6OOGJvrhvsgFMosP-scDZAHF0iBpEWh7DoLBjFYC4hOFZygLbBGvfl0K31DRvcQnTq1zfBtzb-2LV8bzKFO5ii9IoTA0GKoP4zUhYXxjPc1k/s1600/74377340_10221296731836703_8212976552359493632_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUX1PjPKriyGJVlfGW8E5JFFVnOa4qe_w6OOGJvrhvsgFMosP-scDZAHF0iBpEWh7DoLBjFYC4hOFZygLbBGvfl0K31DRvcQnTq1zfBtzb-2LV8bzKFO5ii9IoTA0GKoP4zUhYXxjPc1k/s320/74377340_10221296731836703_8212976552359493632_n.jpg" width="240" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">Yesterday still holding the newspaper clipping and copy, we talked heart to heart about God’s hand in
our low points, prayers we’d prayed, miraculous answers beyond all we asked or
thought.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMI-icp6NqMQf5fLJYiPme_KoFG8np6tn2DB3lqPhPPcfT0AvX4zIc3JRhQQk49ZkuQYjejTTZNEoFNGpX-tO-WBUW4TGdi763o8p1amcjKbfYM6FDaXFKTNdhhztBgXuJnYSciC0u1Q/s1600/unnamed.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEirMI-icp6NqMQf5fLJYiPme_KoFG8np6tn2DB3lqPhPPcfT0AvX4zIc3JRhQQk49ZkuQYjejTTZNEoFNGpX-tO-WBUW4TGdi763o8p1amcjKbfYM6FDaXFKTNdhhztBgXuJnYSciC0u1Q/s320/unnamed.jpg" width="320" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial";">“Doug, I can almost picture God watching this
all play out today, slapping his knee with delight, as we discovered the
appointment He planned so personally for us 40 years ago!”</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial"; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi;">What a mighty God we serve!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="background: white; color: black; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 13.0pt; letter-spacing: 0.75pt;">"<i>My frame was not
hidden from You, when I was made in secret, and skillfully wrought in the
lowest parts of the earth. Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And
in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet
there were none of them</i>" (</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 10.0pt;"><a href="http://biblia.com/bible/nkjv/Psalms%20139.15-16"><span style="background: white; color: #2d6873; font-family: "verdana"; font-size: 13.0pt; letter-spacing: 0.75pt; text-decoration: none;">Psalms 139:15-16</span></a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment--><br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-75088534737859090292020-01-18T13:31:00.002-05:002020-01-20T11:40:16.967-05:00WRESTLING WITH MY HUMOR<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIctIm6vNI5dQQgExA-5VmSyVJEaFt0WYFfs0V5VawwxcB_84iD0ac8A40Eh8h0AMXyceYEk0yeu1zAe7aDZTK_SIL05bHhG5hkxNSahZBK69zxUtEh3XXotXgcSpUjjceoJYS2u9IRLY/s1600/10255715_10203619405754599_7280150712957750046_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIctIm6vNI5dQQgExA-5VmSyVJEaFt0WYFfs0V5VawwxcB_84iD0ac8A40Eh8h0AMXyceYEk0yeu1zAe7aDZTK_SIL05bHhG5hkxNSahZBK69zxUtEh3XXotXgcSpUjjceoJYS2u9IRLY/s320/10255715_10203619405754599_7280150712957750046_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Even as a little girl, I knew I was different. My family accepted, even embraced my humor and quirkiness. My brothers were entertained by it, one eventually joining in at times. Mama had a touch of it and Daddy just quietly smiled at my eccentricities.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO300TFXxA2GA1wqC06sZcKnzjHRl1oK8b-laDAnREFyWmbJI61Act0uxfHiWvIG5bOwPvHokfW8Ic6R-VQ7FHNEOM7kJZ4QpJTF-_CBirfKQ_BnvoCpDLOhjsSMx6NMp-vh86S8LgjXE/s1600/34135447_10216963106096155_8355923251632799744_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO300TFXxA2GA1wqC06sZcKnzjHRl1oK8b-laDAnREFyWmbJI61Act0uxfHiWvIG5bOwPvHokfW8Ic6R-VQ7FHNEOM7kJZ4QpJTF-_CBirfKQ_BnvoCpDLOhjsSMx6NMp-vh86S8LgjXE/s640/34135447_10216963106096155_8355923251632799744_n.jpg" width="211" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">However, when I became a pastor's wife the distinctions became amplified. I did NOT fit the stereotypical model of a pastor's wife. The word typical was barely in my vocabulary, much less my behavior! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I tried. At times. It felt a bit like the ugly step sisters must have felt trying on Cinderella's tiny glass slipper! Maybe it was more like David clanging around in King Saul's XXL armor.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> It didn't fit me. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_4TYX7Yue3Z_-YtfVVGRcZoe4nDtNQ5Ajc-ACzd5m8KObU6ndnl1JO5DpRBX9cGBfRlbB7bWlp_kCz5ogizYlM_ehbewrnuZ2k1sQ1N5B0KKyy3a-wfDQBhTLvLpcuVi-0dDaG-do-k/s1600/23472763_10214923307385075_434805772108304319_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB_4TYX7Yue3Z_-YtfVVGRcZoe4nDtNQ5Ajc-ACzd5m8KObU6ndnl1JO5DpRBX9cGBfRlbB7bWlp_kCz5ogizYlM_ehbewrnuZ2k1sQ1N5B0KKyy3a-wfDQBhTLvLpcuVi-0dDaG-do-k/s320/23472763_10214923307385075_434805772108304319_n.jpg" width="213" /></a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yN7LD72v2WMeS1AnEN05D_nBp-lnhzvyop9I_GpWh356g8eGiX24LxVQMwRkitiWILKOpJVhiS9s1CnfNlppaGOndHSqdZSXn3AlCvqomscP-LgtT5J99PBtbSYJRBc_Z2gbQEFAdFs/s1600/10392074_1195327372227_853839_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3yN7LD72v2WMeS1AnEN05D_nBp-lnhzvyop9I_GpWh356g8eGiX24LxVQMwRkitiWILKOpJVhiS9s1CnfNlppaGOndHSqdZSXn3AlCvqomscP-LgtT5J99PBtbSYJRBc_Z2gbQEFAdFs/s200/10392074_1195327372227_853839_n.jpg" width="161" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sometimes I wondered why God made me this way. He doesn't make mistakes so it must be me. As a extrovert, I'd strain to appear more introverted in crowds. I wanted to be more like my elegant, ladylike friends. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Quiet it down, Kathy! Don't say that, even though it just popped into your brain and you think it's funny.</i> So I'd squeeze my big Type A personality into a small Type B girdle, but could only maintain it a few hours at church on Sundays. Then along with my heels and bra, I quickly shed it once home.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELlGU5KNVhGQJSsKsRUz8Qlcpn5nwVPFXsdvTxAFv8TzHn2QZ7UePxzsr0KdCF86QUkZMLcv00AyNK1lWNnv7qWgq5Up25BA-YJLZE9eSI0BJy7FECNJa8Ff-Mjzj7CAMt4EJfPurkv4/s1600/23611_1254356439139_5252177_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjELlGU5KNVhGQJSsKsRUz8Qlcpn5nwVPFXsdvTxAFv8TzHn2QZ7UePxzsr0KdCF86QUkZMLcv00AyNK1lWNnv7qWgq5Up25BA-YJLZE9eSI0BJy7FECNJa8Ff-Mjzj7CAMt4EJfPurkv4/s320/23611_1254356439139_5252177_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Some of the ministerial staff we worked with over the years cringed but extended grace to me. As the children flew from the nest, I wrestled less with my humor. Their friends enjoyed it. I began to accept it. My firstborn and nieces loved my eccentricities. I had lots of cousins, aunts and uncles who were like me. Like the cowboy with diarrhea, it's all in the genes. Thank you, family!</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRKrsMWOdb4L6aePUS_xLu_COLjAXql7Mi9-aovg6UFH0GZ6h70uVsMjRPcRAZfmW3fAZpoE6CZi1lVCkTEjux7AIV2Z4_6i0ZdKYtfPb2_OUuREVd6RxJWjHM-CYlQay0JII2PWQmZME/s1600/149654_10150102550416257_7333396_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRKrsMWOdb4L6aePUS_xLu_COLjAXql7Mi9-aovg6UFH0GZ6h70uVsMjRPcRAZfmW3fAZpoE6CZi1lVCkTEjux7AIV2Z4_6i0ZdKYtfPb2_OUuREVd6RxJWjHM-CYlQay0JII2PWQmZME/s320/149654_10150102550416257_7333396_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi06AYd4974_lOlj4FrOv9WMw-v4SmgKn3c4K3pQk2oleXBtXvu1Z9Q4gExXrpmbQ6fUXKtwrMTRNKRX9g723sZruFiZ77mPBsjgQfm8BAgxwo1kN9W0YYjQSU41n8rLWTWdTZFhefE8z8/s1600/11170356_10206602501250122_3955457851160994127_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; font-family: roboto, robotodraft, helvetica, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi06AYd4974_lOlj4FrOv9WMw-v4SmgKn3c4K3pQk2oleXBtXvu1Z9Q4gExXrpmbQ6fUXKtwrMTRNKRX9g723sZruFiZ77mPBsjgQfm8BAgxwo1kN9W0YYjQSU41n8rLWTWdTZFhefE8z8/s320/11170356_10206602501250122_3955457851160994127_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Reunions with family were where I could be fully me. Then our baby girl, Katy, married Dave. Once again a new family member shared my quirks. Good fit! He'd come right back at me and crack me up with his wit. Even now our Face Times are not normal. Normal is barely in Dave's vocabulary.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNkLFC7qP1o1TfXxjWcY2m70nvm_6Gl2ky5Bvfsy8OQFixE1URQKA0FN_bRuh6fECSO5Jt6tUxXyAOQaOPPBDZY2y7Ll3BaydjhK43JqPe9lksgeD71cwiwsSvtkZssXqtX4ILyK8YNbI/s1600/20638146_10214117263434480_5923278863873950140_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNkLFC7qP1o1TfXxjWcY2m70nvm_6Gl2ky5Bvfsy8OQFixE1URQKA0FN_bRuh6fECSO5Jt6tUxXyAOQaOPPBDZY2y7Ll3BaydjhK43JqPe9lksgeD71cwiwsSvtkZssXqtX4ILyK8YNbI/s400/20638146_10214117263434480_5923278863873950140_n.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>In my young adult brain I somehow thought I'd magically change, calm down into normalcy by age 50. It came and went. Nothing changed. Except maybe my acceptance. A friend who knew me as a young mother recently commented on some Facebook antic of mine, "I'm glad you haven't changed in all these years." Hm-mmmmm. I tried to for so long.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtWre9E5412IysTbeS-QK-SK8XtlwvkZP0xZzGK93w_CTHxJLb9qcuKcp7QplkkDtyriJRIcrPgifjG-ibTD5WcpBf1Z4RYksJeE85njhjRh7q3_LyFEbHbUvxkGTZSrb-3JTUcsaDlsw/s1600/11745724_10153553436273408_8544325187894906499_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtWre9E5412IysTbeS-QK-SK8XtlwvkZP0xZzGK93w_CTHxJLb9qcuKcp7QplkkDtyriJRIcrPgifjG-ibTD5WcpBf1Z4RYksJeE85njhjRh7q3_LyFEbHbUvxkGTZSrb-3JTUcsaDlsw/s320/11745724_10153553436273408_8544325187894906499_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Finally after years of trying to restrain myself, God gave me a pastor who seemed to not only tolerate or accept me but actually LIKED my humor. While he didn't necessarily share it, he seemed to enjoy it. So I loosened my restraints a bit, even on Sundays. Thank you, Dr. Mike. With all your dignity, you blessed me to shed mine. He even said as he retired, "I hope God gives me another Kathy in my future life." <i>Wow! </i>He popped back up on my doorstep one day recently just to surprise me. Glenda said, "You should get her back for all the times she got you!" I love it. And them.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpJyzXfje0M8fLCSt-Z21SCvalz29H-HuITWT6Eq8PKtZqlx8ZpOq8byeVHQt_8buzZSFFAiApEMrDxjhyphenhyphen6EMoU_eaFZoBwLlfv5SmNUxijift_sL2gxkeGIXVtA0skGJO-8O7-BIH2A/s1600/61210400_10219594251355755_3202618733075890176_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglpJyzXfje0M8fLCSt-Z21SCvalz29H-HuITWT6Eq8PKtZqlx8ZpOq8byeVHQt_8buzZSFFAiApEMrDxjhyphenhyphen6EMoU_eaFZoBwLlfv5SmNUxijift_sL2gxkeGIXVtA0skGJO-8O7-BIH2A/s320/61210400_10219594251355755_3202618733075890176_n.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then God freed me up even more with another pastor who was JUST LIKE ME. He'd banter right back at me during staff meetings. Even from the pulpit he'd pick on me and I loved it. Not just because humor is fun or funny but God was freeing me to be fully me. Maturing in Him gradually revealed that He made me this way for a purpose. Making people laugh is a good, healthy, healing purpose. Thank you, Pastor Johnny. As my last pastor in ministry, you gave me a wonderful gift. You. A different, quirky, eccentric man of God.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tvfoqz-Skks_18Qu5fvOde20eLDzL9CSrqHL29the5p6WPGu4LsxzFglgt49gpJ-ZEz3KQXvYyJsEMGnzmE-iYqKr4vLNJAVDfXtylYWljOEz06jtPzgvKfVp07hKiufGPs1OpoLbok/s1600/57403872_10219066049345427_1978253780394704896_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8tvfoqz-Skks_18Qu5fvOde20eLDzL9CSrqHL29the5p6WPGu4LsxzFglgt49gpJ-ZEz3KQXvYyJsEMGnzmE-iYqKr4vLNJAVDfXtylYWljOEz06jtPzgvKfVp07hKiufGPs1OpoLbok/s400/57403872_10219066049345427_1978253780394704896_n.jpg" width="300" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We even celebrate Easter with a "SHAZAM!" At my retirement he said, "You all think I cross the line of inappropriateness but Kathy dances on that line!" I do.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So you want a moral to this story, clique as it is? Then celebrate who you are. Do so early in life. Don't try to fit an image of anyone else. You're not a mistake. Your personality was shaped by God. Your gifts were given by Him to encourage others and glorify Him. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We all know that. Yet we sometimes think we should all be somewhat the same. We're not cookie cutter images of God but reflect Him in His many faceted ways. God loves diversity. Look at the flowers! Don't toil or spin. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Chuck Swindoll wrote, "God does not call everybody to build temples. He calls some people to be soldiers. He calls some people to do the gutsy work in the trenches. He calls some people to compose and produce music. God has all kinds of creative ways to use us--ways we can't even imagine and certainly can't see up there around the next bend in the road." </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavE8broml69aNJ3BTZn_WU46hH_1L6_bSj9Kc7SWkQ6j9sju2pPvSXOAiamb4rnrAcJ6tbM5H5dzhuh7yT1K4mWUzdsm_7xwTiLXKHi4qcMZMYHAE5z7qGK3hf3HG2q9nECrLCBu2vK0/s1600/12801330_10208993554624962_926073162178466506_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiavE8broml69aNJ3BTZn_WU46hH_1L6_bSj9Kc7SWkQ6j9sju2pPvSXOAiamb4rnrAcJ6tbM5H5dzhuh7yT1K4mWUzdsm_7xwTiLXKHi4qcMZMYHAE5z7qGK3hf3HG2q9nECrLCBu2vK0/s400/12801330_10208993554624962_926073162178466506_n.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you prefer a quiet corner with a good book and find it too peopley out there, plop into a cozy chair and snuggle down! Or if you, like me, suddenly find yourself drafted onto a stage by The Jersey Boys with a captive audience. . .KICK HIGH! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">BE fully who God made you to be!</span><br />
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<br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-14042921662628913272020-01-09T13:45:00.000-05:002020-01-09T22:36:43.032-05:00TRANQUIL: MY WORD FOR THE YEAR 2020<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last year, in lieu of a New Year's resolution, I opted for a word. It was SAVOR and I tried to live it. Being fully present in each moment was my goal. Since the year was bulging with changes in our lives, we both wanted to be very intentional as we lived through some <i>lasts. </i></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doug carved the word onto a pallet board.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Read about it here. <span style="color: #3d85c6;"> </span></i></span><span style="color: #3d85c6; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://kathyhenderson.blogspot.com/2019/01/new-approach-to-new-years-resolutions.html" style="background-color: white;"><i>SAVOR</i></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We savored our last days of music ministry at Greenwood Baptist where we'd served for 22 years. We cherished longtime friends as we said goodbye. As we packed, we enjoyed our favorite restaurants (Stephanos) and stores (Home Goods for me and Lowe's for Doug.) We walked through the rooms of our house, remembering. Savoring.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today we are settled in Scotia Village retirement community, surrounded by new faces, neighbors, a smaller city, new menus and activities, many new churches to visit. Read about that here. <i> <a href="https://kathyhenderson.blogspot.com/2019/09/doug-and-i-are-moving-soon-to.html"><span style="color: #3d85c6;">MOVING</span></a></i><span style="color: #3d85c6;"> </span> With so many opportunities ahead, I tell myself, "Slow down, Kathy. Breathe. Wait before jumping into commitments." So my word for this year is</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsimTJtUhoC39XY2e21-kp5hnIidD1M-1jd-OoluH6Y0m33xivStYpkC2dNJKzt4VvRf0jl75KU3cByXx5ZOlSxikmoS2AkR27TU8CzWiNrwYVjz2jfHUu3y_pMW9uUjGGtolQ-AoqR_s/s1600/OIP.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="368" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsimTJtUhoC39XY2e21-kp5hnIidD1M-1jd-OoluH6Y0m33xivStYpkC2dNJKzt4VvRf0jl75KU3cByXx5ZOlSxikmoS2AkR27TU8CzWiNrwYVjz2jfHUu3y_pMW9uUjGGtolQ-AoqR_s/s640/OIP.jpg" width="640" /></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">While that word sounds inviting, my nature struggles against it. It's a Type B person's word. I'm definitely Type A. I'm an extrovert entering the world of an introvert. It's unnatural. I'm a volunteer, hand-raiser, cheerleader, list-maker. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Within days of moving into our new villa, I proclaimed confidently to Doug, "I'm not signing up for anything right now!" Two hours later, after a couple of neighbors stopped by to visit, I became a member of the men's barbershop quartet. MENS! It went like this:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Doug, we hear you sing and sure could use a tenor for the Christmas program."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Doug spoke back too quickly in a deeper than normal voice, "I'm a baritone."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The bass singing visitor turned to me with a smile, "I hear a woman singing tenor can blend."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And just like <i>that</i> I broke my own promise to myself. We must have practiced half a dozen times on Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. I admit, it was fun but it was also a one time commitment. The Four Grandpas became Three Grandpas and a Nana for one evening. One! (They don't give up easily and still try to enlist me to permanency.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We are not rushing to join a church but are visiting many (Baptist, Methodist and Presbyterian so far) and enjoying worship from the pew. I have not begun the many exercise classes here. (That particular procrastination is not as hard for me.) I'm considering Yoga, Chair Volleyball, Water Aerobics, Bocci Ball, Strength Training. We did try a one time dance class. And we walk (usually to and from supper in the main building.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">TRANQUILITY for me means a much slower paced time alone with God. My mornings pretty much revolve around coffee and Him. More listening, less talking. Hymns without words. More waiting, less rushing. More stillness, less To-Do lists. More thankfulness, less requests. No daytime TV. Of course retiring here allows me to do that. I even toured the Holy Land virtually with Our Daily Bread videos. Theologian and archeologist guide through amazing episode after episode! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm learning to cope with and silence the guilt words of idleness, laziness, time-waster. I'm truly embracing my Isle of Patmos season at Walden Pond. This is new. Foreign. This is hard. This is good. Refreshing. Internal growth is quiet, not bombastic. Loving God more than learning about God.</span><br />
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<span style="clear: left; display: inline; float: left; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH66Nh74PG61ZO3qg_1XNByeyowhEIrL7ZqtflCCgxVk5hVdV37MDLtQ9QIlXG1s07YvChm1d9mZyCZKtLzimhDD4QaIIGfhRWYAYqq6s-WatlSqXeFkGCCuDUs9rG-BC_TbTyEwdw7kY/s1600/Tranquil.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; display: inline !important; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="198" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhH66Nh74PG61ZO3qg_1XNByeyowhEIrL7ZqtflCCgxVk5hVdV37MDLtQ9QIlXG1s07YvChm1d9mZyCZKtLzimhDD4QaIIGfhRWYAYqq6s-WatlSqXeFkGCCuDUs9rG-BC_TbTyEwdw7kY/s400/Tranquil.jpg" width="400" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Moving here was physically exhausting. Yesterday we organized 2 more closets, with mine yet to go! So resting for now is good, prescribed by my Great Physician. He's my daily Attending and I'm loving Him more and more, oozing gratitude for this season of life. While I'm not yet knitting from a rocking chair nor drooling on myself, this feels right. For now. It's a quiet prelude to whatever new ministry, church, responsibilities, relationships or pleasures He calls me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">HE calls me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Right now friends, old and new, are calling me to "Sign up!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"You should start that Bible Study on Heaven you mentioned."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Hey! We need a pianist!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"You'd love being part of our prison ministry to women."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"You play organ? Great! We need one."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Come sing with us!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When I answer them with, "When the Lord tells me what to do, I will," they grow silent and look skeptically at me. I've jumped ahead of Him in the past. And paid for it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today it's so common when you ask someone, "How ya' doing?" to hear them respond, "I'm just so BUSY!" Busy has become the buzz word for life, importance, purpose. I'm going the opposite direction for awhile. Maybe not even going but in neutral, waiting. It's a new road for me, maybe more of a path. Living in TRANQUILITY.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3SCQC-K1zUX8NIvMjK2ESw5tZ8HEXjjJp-Qu5-WbPM-2JwV4U1lLdjP1eV2usKjNir6nG6DUNzEX_vLvammPfqiJ5qSw5tyqUBIEd4w0vmDaFWq_F2i_aDy2Bk7XZ69YlOh4f-X9UWw4/s1600/mh8may1440667249.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3SCQC-K1zUX8NIvMjK2ESw5tZ8HEXjjJp-Qu5-WbPM-2JwV4U1lLdjP1eV2usKjNir6nG6DUNzEX_vLvammPfqiJ5qSw5tyqUBIEd4w0vmDaFWq_F2i_aDy2Bk7XZ69YlOh4f-X9UWw4/s400/mh8may1440667249.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Mama was a wise woman and once advised me, "Kathy, you have 2 gears. . .wide open and neutral. Be sure you spend enough time in neutral to offset the wide open." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She was right. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I host gatherings, plan church trips, have home Bible studies, buy tickets and invite folks to events, call friends to eat out. I'm a people person. But find myself peopleless most of the time now. And it's OK.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I've ministered from the piano bench Sundays since I was 13. Wide open in music ministry for nearly 60 years! Neutral is needed. Strangely, I find myself simply playing my piano here at home more often. Just me and Jesus. Sometimes Doug. He asked recently, "What's that song?" It was There's Music in the Air.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There is. Up above my head, there must be a God somewhere.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Doug will carve me another word to add to my porch chain. Porch. Another good place for tranquility. Haven't had a porch for 22 years.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhV3B3Xf4n-TCjOrs7lAclu94YhtCSUwbk6chjTHTBp2hM3VsuE7VTvkjvOVvZ5d5QLrrF54ojzwhcj1OcWHRKJzHsUjJoUXd5USicFmM3kVdVEBqEGBZQ1uXoag97LE_y8Zzmp570QI/s1600/82273335_581856819335329_3030815879412580352_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjhV3B3Xf4n-TCjOrs7lAclu94YhtCSUwbk6chjTHTBp2hM3VsuE7VTvkjvOVvZ5d5QLrrF54ojzwhcj1OcWHRKJzHsUjJoUXd5USicFmM3kVdVEBqEGBZQ1uXoag97LE_y8Zzmp570QI/s640/82273335_581856819335329_3030815879412580352_n.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-56326737668027036622019-09-16T15:18:00.001-04:002019-10-14T13:07:54.574-04:00OUR FINAL MOVE BEFORE HEAVEN<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Doug and I are moving soon to a retirement community in Laurinburg, NC. After over 21 years ministering here in Florence, SC, at Greenwood Baptist Church, it's a huge step in a new direction. New steps in ANY direction can be a challenge at our age!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.scotiavillage.org/">http://www.scotiavillage.org/</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz5ImDUB7jr-O81dH-N4Psu-_XAPCAVDesNGG_Zq9THr2JDIqqvaqHuwRSyd5kXI7iNoLjlf7xSsafoMnm4z8nB66TnKGd-lXtOgmOoQlpbWwnUWhxK4WE0s3nseUS1BL6wcIYcXjliPA/s1600/05.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz5ImDUB7jr-O81dH-N4Psu-_XAPCAVDesNGG_Zq9THr2JDIqqvaqHuwRSyd5kXI7iNoLjlf7xSsafoMnm4z8nB66TnKGd-lXtOgmOoQlpbWwnUWhxK4WE0s3nseUS1BL6wcIYcXjliPA/s320/05.jpg" width="320" /></a></span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Why in the world did you decide to do this?"</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Why did you choose to go there?"</span></i><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"How are you feeling about this move?"</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We hear these questions almost weekly. Let me answer them and share a bit of our journey.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2c4rf30Ur2U0P9Muj8PWjSopM9CJuwzrIhAM8kNfycDgNqqYQyCeLQuOzfjTd8D-pCZJf7cpSHpyzM2kdCgg1ajhkK-DLGoKsoh9DvfNNwtKJMMd7rJlqgkjvI-MVlu-KI5RmfQGUrw/s1600/scan0003+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1307" data-original-width="1027" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEho2c4rf30Ur2U0P9Muj8PWjSopM9CJuwzrIhAM8kNfycDgNqqYQyCeLQuOzfjTd8D-pCZJf7cpSHpyzM2kdCgg1ajhkK-DLGoKsoh9DvfNNwtKJMMd7rJlqgkjvI-MVlu-KI5RmfQGUrw/s320/scan0003+%25282%2529.jpg" width="251" /></span></a><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This is home. We had no plans to retire and move. God DID have plans for that, however. Mama used to remind me, "God has no intention to keep His will a secret from us." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He also knows I can be hard of listening, so He speaks my language and repeats Himself for clarity and reassurance to ADD me. Our choice is not for everyone but He has shown us what is right for us. Family will not have to yard sale our stuff. We did that! They won't have to sell our house. Waiting on that buyer now. They won't have to be our care-givers.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEzODKxA3wL1ev5_PfjJkv1mJz-rEcjHhgPzz8R-gHblRfPmAm-qlTwrydgGXigE-Jg66xhKNO1Nx5x5caAtXOpETmc_37LrI-xsco-LcTty9uTVrnr5I8Oyl3noygyWYC9n1GHzcZYQ/s1600/375409_2733178657548_1362779174_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" data-original-height="720" data-original-width="960" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuEzODKxA3wL1ev5_PfjJkv1mJz-rEcjHhgPzz8R-gHblRfPmAm-qlTwrydgGXigE-Jg66xhKNO1Nx5x5caAtXOpETmc_37LrI-xsco-LcTty9uTVrnr5I8Oyl3noygyWYC9n1GHzcZYQ/s320/375409_2733178657548_1362779174_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One of my love languages is food, especially steak. So when Trudy Miles called with, "Hey, Kathy! Just got an invitation to Victor's Restaurant for a free dinner. Want to go?" she already knew my answer because it's something we do often. Reaching a certain age comes with perks. One of those is an upgrade to spiels. So we go, never buying anything, but for free food! Doug and Donnie often join us but this day they golfed while we dined.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That was 3 years ago and God's first whisper of His plans for us. A second invitation from the Scotia Village folks took us there for an overnight visit, again not intending to buy into anything. "Doug, it'll be a nice get-away." So we went. Were very impressed as we toured. They have 250 residents, ranging from living in 3 bedroom homes to nursing care. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When Norm, the sales manager, left the room to crunch our numbers, I whispered, "Doug, this is when he comes back in and gently asks us to leave, not being qualified." We giggled, waiting.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Norm returned and told us we were more than qualified.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thus, began our consideration of a possibility not even on our scope.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's a bit embarrassing to admit freebies were our hook. God got our attention.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Why?</span></i><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This is a gift to our own children. They are all happily willing to take care of us in our old age. We 3 siblings gladly took care of Mama after Daddy died. So we know what that means. Having the choice allows us to take that responsibility off them, while still enjoying their visits as family, not care-givers.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-nQ_kKPfJ3zYMbYkIThMjtooQ33KMjXa2BUMTf1EzSCrszn9te2SqZxcFAYUvvmk9u_NTd_BA80CKZAxOT6gdSepx2P-EtomYC0RHQuX-MUOGETcCPM9bdaD99r9QYiczIAxqo1cFKlo/s1600/66228947_10219946340437762_5717574560241418240_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-nQ_kKPfJ3zYMbYkIThMjtooQ33KMjXa2BUMTf1EzSCrszn9te2SqZxcFAYUvvmk9u_NTd_BA80CKZAxOT6gdSepx2P-EtomYC0RHQuX-MUOGETcCPM9bdaD99r9QYiczIAxqo1cFKlo/s320/66228947_10219946340437762_5717574560241418240_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The kids' first look at Scotia Village and our future there last July</span></td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjVNrsaseMqf-bKgY_uNcM3ALv5DCb3-VHkx7FEI-0ugmunG0K09TcxQxIw9iSA37TnYSiDA8cum_LSCjnp3FsazLoOvVsuu8L8IzazvFRE0Vhar88W5DNwJz5ws8HVfeADfAP9nUgQg/s1600/65899441_10219938044630372_4819691615285149696_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLjVNrsaseMqf-bKgY_uNcM3ALv5DCb3-VHkx7FEI-0ugmunG0K09TcxQxIw9iSA37TnYSiDA8cum_LSCjnp3FsazLoOvVsuu8L8IzazvFRE0Vhar88W5DNwJz5ws8HVfeADfAP9nUgQg/s400/65899441_10219938044630372_4819691615285149696_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Standing in our soon-to-be living room</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Florence friends largely are surrounded by their family. We are not. Ours are scattered from Canada to Florida. Moving to NC puts us closer to one of them, Kent, a minister of music in Kinston, NC. We began our ministry there fresh out of college. So it's a full circle season. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Kingdom work is wonderful but comes with Sunday responsibilities not allowing us to be with family during many holidays. Our kids are also in ministry. So we spend Mother's Day, Father's Day, Easter alone. NOW we can visit them freely. We can see our grands' special school events, attend our kids' church services, take trips with my brother and wife, Ricky and Gwen.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRlmEKQ6nzG_xpE860NH30Hzzkw6wrXCX1d13vHreGb1BIsRPT9qvvQoTU1iQp9PbcTQuIljhwG75ONDXjiKOpPcbdCWhkjAaJ21WQwinG17A1aKiKquPtMc9WqDlqBL8cehfVj-X4D_c/s1600/56659851_10219180775419115_3255683513579470848_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRlmEKQ6nzG_xpE860NH30Hzzkw6wrXCX1d13vHreGb1BIsRPT9qvvQoTU1iQp9PbcTQuIljhwG75ONDXjiKOpPcbdCWhkjAaJ21WQwinG17A1aKiKquPtMc9WqDlqBL8cehfVj-X4D_c/s320/56659851_10219180775419115_3255683513579470848_n.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ricky and Gwen with us on the Alaskan cruise</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last week Kimberly called, "Mom! We just bought a house! Why don't you and Daddy fly down for Thanksgiving with us?" We bought plane tickets to Tampa the very next day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So many things we do and enjoy are becoming burdensome, like lawn care, cooking, cleaning. This will be done for us at Scotia Village. Our daily questions will go from "What do I need to do today?" to "What do I <b>want</b> to do today?"</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We will continue to minister to others. How God will guide in that is yet to be seen. Opportunities abound. We will have purpose. We still have our gifts of hospitality, teaching and music. So we've already scheduled THREE Open House events to sing and enjoy friends, new and old. Not having room for both pianos, I donated my childhood one to Scotia. I suspect I will visit it and play it occasionally for events there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">God's given special friends to help us in this move. What a blessing they are to share in our joy and help us in the planning and preparation!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgMhEQue-vUHurZ_q8TIXyO7NDKBQ9lVJafhTxqBZzUFceNsVc1DM2sQbAbB1ewJeBRbnKZUAhT76JH39OJWwBWQnbUEwBqNu0EBxv0sCYqOch29pXyS93z2M8J2dktHT3krfbfEyBK0/s320/69965255_10220249109121182_3420639326084530176_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sandra Dail has guided my decorating choices <br />
and helped so much in decluttering!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCk-V0Lz572Dgn6fcv60RRGZqV3LRfRGgY6o1KrKixmk9YSbxIt5VYMpi6ik9B8U9NSzHd8LRGuM1xaM_Lh1Mg02MW7G2LqriURyNiob0jof5Sf0Rli8VrqzRUBkEW4pb9s-F6n5_agZ8/s320/61154670_10219502301537067_4722244433746067456_n.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="240" /></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bobby and Phyllis Parker celebrated our 50th with us. <br />
They were there on our wedding day as well!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtD1w4hoRLX1w6Ny0bnXcI61w3n79ecAD1IzeNVIyWLZ5-qqmxkSc42M_idHrr1l5bMQcACqJX-nBzn_G4nMqTWbrGgb5RWFuQRSRfryGa0XsDFvjGy0KISINJdqtlkyKoIoClVj46hZI/s1600/60742240_10219502226855200_3650297596838150144_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtD1w4hoRLX1w6Ny0bnXcI61w3n79ecAD1IzeNVIyWLZ5-qqmxkSc42M_idHrr1l5bMQcACqJX-nBzn_G4nMqTWbrGgb5RWFuQRSRfryGa0XsDFvjGy0KISINJdqtlkyKoIoClVj46hZI/s320/60742240_10219502226855200_3650297596838150144_n.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Phyllis gets her first look at our villa (2 bedroom duplex) <br />
about to undergo renovation!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUgMhEQue-vUHurZ_q8TIXyO7NDKBQ9lVJafhTxqBZzUFceNsVc1DM2sQbAbB1ewJeBRbnKZUAhT76JH39OJWwBWQnbUEwBqNu0EBxv0sCYqOch29pXyS93z2M8J2dktHT3krfbfEyBK0/s1600/69965255_10220249109121182_3420639326084530176_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCk-V0Lz572Dgn6fcv60RRGZqV3LRfRGgY6o1KrKixmk9YSbxIt5VYMpi6ik9B8U9NSzHd8LRGuM1xaM_Lh1Mg02MW7G2LqriURyNiob0jof5Sf0Rli8VrqzRUBkEW4pb9s-F6n5_agZ8/s1600/61154670_10219502301537067_4722244433746067456_n.jpg" imageanchor="1"></a><br /></span>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">CHANGE. That word scares old folks like us generally. But Doug and I are learning to embrace it. Why? Because God made His will, plan, timing and means abundantly clear. We are called. Just as we have been in every other move of life for over 50 years in church ministry. A lot is unknown.</span><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Do you know anyone there?"</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Met a few but no, not really."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"What church will you attend?"</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Not sure yet. We'll enjoy visiting a lot. I'll sit on a pew instead of the piano bench for awhile! God will let us know."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<i><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"What will you do?"</span></i><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"We have so many choices--educationally, in hobbies, ministry, recreational activities, Bible studies, clubs, trips, etc. I know we won't be bored. God will let us know." </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've already looked into a creative writing class at the college next door. I can walk to St. Andrews University! Doug is considering painting again with an artist who is also a resident and owns her own gallery there.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A little phrase in the most familiar chapter in the Bible took on new meaning to us:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRk8EFvD681XV6PNvle6MAXTEvrKMeyNhYVB727gS9TUqafqtNPt3rRmyA33G_6WSMe_l_8nXIaRPKy_7Q0GqVTbeZBsBWVh0aR-hy4RVGKbCOAnLZ7RJdEkO8T6ooOawSH5LArTCreV0/s1600/th-3.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRk8EFvD681XV6PNvle6MAXTEvrKMeyNhYVB727gS9TUqafqtNPt3rRmyA33G_6WSMe_l_8nXIaRPKy_7Q0GqVTbeZBsBWVh0aR-hy4RVGKbCOAnLZ7RJdEkO8T6ooOawSH5LArTCreV0/s320/th-3.jpg" width="320" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ALL the days of my life. Looking back, it has! So we know it will! That little word follow does not mean gently like a little puppy dog trailing us. In Hebrew it means pursuing us with a passion, like hounding or chasing after us to give us good things, show us mercy!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It will be our last move. Sometimes I tell close friends, "We're going there to die." Actually we have a lot of living to do and this frees us up to enjoy it. Hopefully death won't be too soon but more than likely, this WILL be our last move until glory. God's got that covered too, in His time. I don't have to pack for that one! We're all ready for it. . .whenever He calls one or both of us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc6G0Iy3YTPcafeV68qyaGtVn-DwKc6SEp2Sz2InqsZJHmowswif_SFFZVyRvZqcr_INDb7LbYU5qEUVsUZywyxtFamIrEZTMRU0Y0fxiqvo-zevFcZ4AjJmu8GCXGwnAto5_rjzC8q0k/s1600/download-2.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhc6G0Iy3YTPcafeV68qyaGtVn-DwKc6SEp2Sz2InqsZJHmowswif_SFFZVyRvZqcr_INDb7LbYU5qEUVsUZywyxtFamIrEZTMRU0Y0fxiqvo-zevFcZ4AjJmu8GCXGwnAto5_rjzC8q0k/s320/download-2.jpg" width="320" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've got free food waiting there too! A banquet table! Just waiting on that call as well.</span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSi-UnghQPFnosQTvQlwvUl5W0ZX3k1R8sdh2DJFcrUwrFPDBRhYG56qmCPYtsXQdoSPfp54t5jksJ3UViSkYAChZxS_PvApidigUuob_oe-HaIZn7T5vs0_Mz3lQrRci6OFu0q4ijB3Q/s1600/th-3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSi-UnghQPFnosQTvQlwvUl5W0ZX3k1R8sdh2DJFcrUwrFPDBRhYG56qmCPYtsXQdoSPfp54t5jksJ3UViSkYAChZxS_PvApidigUuob_oe-HaIZn7T5vs0_Mz3lQrRci6OFu0q4ijB3Q/s400/th-3.jpg" width="346" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ready when He is!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<br />
<br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-54179708452575874952019-04-17T16:40:00.000-04:002019-04-17T16:40:58.210-04:00ADVICE TO MY YOUNGER SELF<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</span></span></span></b><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial;">Slow your
pace. Life’s a marathon, not a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;">sprint</span></u></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Jesus never hurried or worried. Greet people by name.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It’s people over our projects.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>People ARE our ministry, not just a means of
doing it. This creates patience.<b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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not a <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;">GPS</span></u></b>
for the journey.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Duties never conflict.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Order my steps, in Your Word, O Lord.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">“Sit on the pity pot, but don’t
stay there long enough to get ring-around-the-hiney.” </i><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nobody wants to be around a whiney-butt.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Secret:<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Think thanks.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>An attitude of gratitude comes from a heart focused on Jesus.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“I have <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><u>learned</u></i></b><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>in whatever state I am to be content.” JOY is the by-product of a
thankful heart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">4.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial;">Your <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;">story</span></u></b> is not complete. We know how it ends.
We’ve read the Book, even the last chapter!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>So praise God even now, IN the storm.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>People notice.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be sure they
notice HIM more than you or your trials.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Seek the kingdom FIRST and foremost.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Balance life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">5.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial;">Keep <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;">eternity</span></u></b> in mind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Sweet By and By helps us live in the
Nasty Now and Now.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Far better. .
.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Phil. 1:23 Paul was torn. “It is
better to depart; it is <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">far better </b>to
be with Christ.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Today’s circumstances
and choices will be different if we remember we are citizens of another place,
only ambassadors here. God plants eternity in our hearts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">6.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial;">Radiate <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;">Jesus</span></u></b>, in word, in deed and continually.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“Whether you eat or drink. . .”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t subdivide yourself into spiritual,
secular, emotional, intellectual.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He
created you, whole. Be real. “To thine own self be true.” (Shakespeare)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Just be you and let Him shine through. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">7.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Never sacrifice the <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;">permanent</span></u></b> on the altar of the
immediate.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>(Dr. Bob Jones, Sr.)
Sometimes the project or the TO Do List causes us to miss HIS interruptions.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Those blasted interruptions become blessed
interruptions if we allow His daily plan.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">8.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial;">Listen. REALLY listen. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They may not even need your <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;">advice</span></u></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Don’t always try to be Mr. Fix It. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sometimes all your spouse, child or friend
needs is just to be heard, seen, understood. That’s love. “Husbands, love your
wives <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">with <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">understanding</b>.” </i>LIFEtime job!<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"> </i>Hearing is not always listening,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">9.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial;">Find stillness, <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;">quietness</span></u></b> every day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may be in your car before going
inside.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let go and let God.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It may be in your bed, before you open your
eyes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Breathe Him in, release yourself.
Dr. Mike Gay prays before rising, “Lord, help me know You better and love You
more today.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>God speaks in silence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be STILL and know.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: Arial; mso-fareast-font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-list: Ignore;">10.<span style="font: 7.0pt "Times New Roman";"> </span></span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Embrace <b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><u><span style="color: red;">change</span></u></b>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>“No one likes change except a baby with a
dirty diaper, and even he will cry about it.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Every living thing changes.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Only
dead things don’t move. So don’t fear trying something new nor failing.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>GROW, STRETCH, LEARN.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Everyone needs a Barnabas to encourage us and
a Timothy to mentor.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So teach but remain
teachable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Be a sponge.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Soak up, then wring yourself out.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<!--EndFragment--><br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-8547305849650037722019-04-12T11:13:00.004-04:002019-04-12T11:19:57.979-04:00KATHY ON DEATH <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">KATHY ON <strike>SEX</strike> DEATH</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now that's a title absolutely no one wants to read. I should have called it "Kathy on Sex" then everyone would at least peek.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgEb2fbQPI10wR5myB8f7jeTkIJEbPkOrc9o468Qhwx_NgcqjWzyqA2AZBUIWDNhm_7NxhtkPxGN2_pJA-DxGsvfTfbOlPG3DhL77U96l6Tn8UKpp4g4TEaEqPd_C6K9ohznJPzMoxf2c/s1600/f53ba5f6bdffb4fc9cfee46b9d2b31dd--grim-reaper-the-reaper.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgEb2fbQPI10wR5myB8f7jeTkIJEbPkOrc9o468Qhwx_NgcqjWzyqA2AZBUIWDNhm_7NxhtkPxGN2_pJA-DxGsvfTfbOlPG3DhL77U96l6Tn8UKpp4g4TEaEqPd_C6K9ohznJPzMoxf2c/s400/f53ba5f6bdffb4fc9cfee46b9d2b31dd--grim-reaper-the-reaper.jpg" width="265" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the last week we heard of the death of a high school classmate and a college friend, both woman. Somehow when the obits are your contemporaries, you glance over your shoulder for the grim reaper.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In ministry we are well acquainted with funerals. A local funeral home calls on me to play for people who have no church nor musician. I've heard countless eulogies. I don't fear death but I am afraid of the process. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As I age, my body reminds me I'm moving to the front of the line into the pearly gates. Any day above ground is a good day. As a Christian I know that heaven is far better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So I ponder how I want to face these years which may hold suffering, sickness eventually death. Here are a few points that guide me:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">1. God planted eternity in my heart. So I lift my head above this world and keep heaven in view. It changes how I face today's circumstances. Newscasts upsetting? "In the last days perilous times shall come. . ." He warned us. Look up!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">2. Life is a vapor. I am consumed with living, not dying. I savor, cherish each day, my friends, good times, every moment as a gift. Live life abundantly!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">3. God is preparing a place for me. He's also preparing me for that place. So I allow my mind to imagine a new home, a grand welcoming, peace and health unending in God's glorious presence. I also allow Him to chip away at my character, carving out His image more clearly.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">4. Signs of aging speak to me. Aching joints, loss of energy, wrinkles, gray hair. . .all remind me that I am a soul with a body, not a body with a soul. Focus on the eternal. Lord, deliver me from becoming a whining old lady!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>You can sit on the pity pot</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>but don't stay there long enough to get</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>ring-around-the-hiney!</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">5. Cancer. That's the big one we all fear. But whatever diagnosis, accident or illness comes my way, I choose to think of it as my chariot to heaven. <i>Something</i> has to take me there. Sure I'd love to go like Enoch but that's not going to happen. So even now I tell myself to get ready, see it as a means, not an end. Death will be the beginning of what I was created for.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">6. Hold loosely the gifts God has given me, whether things or people. Hold tightly to the Giver. As we declutter our home, we also declutter our lives. I choose to focus on what's truly valuable. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nothing amazing in my thoughts on death but I want my thoughts and choices to be His.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIo1XkGCdb-slTJGDhfzO1y89YVMFsbPo6DgzKhHVnDQZ6y_XZUtRpjY3IHP-wOW7GuT-QYpnFRORwrJw6ahyphenhyphenldz06YEFfOfg23WNbZFAyPMcntnAdTd0rdWg9z4fjgsHoQp77KVCrQnM/s1600/70bf187d92315dbacdff372ed9cd4486.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIo1XkGCdb-slTJGDhfzO1y89YVMFsbPo6DgzKhHVnDQZ6y_XZUtRpjY3IHP-wOW7GuT-QYpnFRORwrJw6ahyphenhyphenldz06YEFfOfg23WNbZFAyPMcntnAdTd0rdWg9z4fjgsHoQp77KVCrQnM/s400/70bf187d92315dbacdff372ed9cd4486.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-27896716080558728642019-01-31T10:57:00.000-05:002019-01-31T10:57:20.177-05:00SIMPLE WAYS TO DE-STRESS<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My guest blogger today is Ann Voscamp. I actually took two days to really ponder. . .SAVOR these 25 ideas from her. Many of them are already part of my routine. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-6Zp7cqu38gkM2EahwRhRmO-mgftAqVQhVANBcyInbHUuQ0PEDyFpnckG_Xk8PRqlAGRGTzwl5d6iF4oZeCjcg6qKPUe1eslCSWbqzK8qRFkh_owKKa1SvZUzcrRrTPMQDSNfxwLiRZQ/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-6Zp7cqu38gkM2EahwRhRmO-mgftAqVQhVANBcyInbHUuQ0PEDyFpnckG_Xk8PRqlAGRGTzwl5d6iF4oZeCjcg6qKPUe1eslCSWbqzK8qRFkh_owKKa1SvZUzcrRrTPMQDSNfxwLiRZQ/s400/download.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Several years back I let God change me. . .from Type A to B, from hurry-worry-scurry to slower paced, from yakking to silence. Even the way I walk or eat has changed. Stress is not as present, though it still makes attempts to bash my door down. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">These are some ideas that helped me de-stress rather than become distressed! If you're too busy to read them now, then wait! Don't scan. Come back later and digest them. Invite God into your routine.</span><br />
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<h1 style="color: #54aab6; font-family: HelveticaNeue, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 35px; font-weight: 200; letter-spacing: -1px; line-height: 42px;">
<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://annvoskamp.com/2019/01/crazy-stressed-days-need-this-life-plan-a-manifesto-to-stay-sane/&source=gmail&ust=1548006465027000&usg=AFQjCNGwv4gsJvWuvtEMgHcAhvL9DKpstg" href="https://annvoskamp.com/2019/01/crazy-stressed-days-need-this-life-plan-a-manifesto-to-stay-sane/" style="color: #54aab6; padding: 0px; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Crazy, Stressed Days Need This Life Plan: A Manifesto to Stay Sane</a></h1>
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<span style="color: #b7d3d7; float: left; font-family: "times"; font-size: 120px; line-height: 80px; padding-right: 5px; padding-top: 1px;">S</span>o I’m a mess and <strong>we’re all failures — at least all the honest of us are.</strong></div>
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And the truth is, <strong>no one ever runs before they take baby steps. </strong></div>
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So I scratch down these 25 points, like my own sanity manifesto, and there are a thousand different ways in a thousand seasons to make a life glorify God.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">1. First things first: Word in. Work out. Work plan.</span></div>
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Open your eyes every morning and just do three first:</div>
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<strong>Word in</strong>: Get into God’s Word and let it get into you.<br />
<strong>Work out</strong>: Work out. Even 5 minutes of moving is better than nothing. (baby steps! together we can do this!)<br />
<strong>Work plan</strong>: Write out the work plan. And then work the plan.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">2. “What a heart knows by heart is what a heart knows”</span></div>
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Write your <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://annvoskamp.com/sticky-notes-signup/&source=gmail&ust=1548006465029000&usg=AFQjCNHbESV547QCmW_EZIcDv5bfXHhxAA" href="https://annvoskamp.com/sticky-notes-signup/" rel="noopener" style="color: #54aab6; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">memory verses</a> on a sticky note, on a chalkboard, for your pocket.</div>
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<strong>Because when you are memorizing Scripture, quiet time with the Lord — becomes all the time.</strong> (Who doesn’t want that?)</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">3. Flame first.</span></div>
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Light a candle first thing in the morning.</div>
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So you remember: <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://bible.cc/matthew/5-15.htm&source=gmail&ust=1548006465029000&usg=AFQjCNGedkpq-g9uJd6czz63NBjcy8sVbw" href="http://bible.cc/matthew/5-15.htm" rel="noopener" style="color: #54aab6; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">You are the light that is put on a stand so that it gives light to everyone in the house.</a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">4. Your work is art: it needs a soundtrack.</span></div>
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Find your music.</div>
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Play your music.</div>
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Sing your music. This is profound.</div>
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Vincent van Gogh said: “<strong>When sailors have to move a heavy load or raise an anchor, <em>they all sing together</em> to keep them up and give them vim. That’s just what artists lack</strong>.”</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">5. Step on the Snake Before Breakfast</span></div>
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Before breakfast, crush one hard thing that is tempting you to think there are impossible things.</div>
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<strong>Before breakfast, crush that one thing and prove that all things are possible with God.</strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">6. Stay in the pool</span></div>
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Michael Phelps said it in an interview: “You’ve just got to stay in the pool longer than others.”</div>
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Set the timer. Get in the pool. Stay in the pool. Do your work. <strong>Don’t get distracted. Don’t flit from one thing to another and back.</strong></div>
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Don’t get out of the pool, don’t leave your work, until the timer goes. The way to win is to stay in the pool.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">7. Clean a space = clear headspace</span></div>
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Keeping the workspace clean, clears your headspace to think.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">8. Go Slow. Life Zone. Life isn’t an Emergency: It’s a gift.</span></div>
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<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://annvoskamp.com/2019/01/crazy-stressed-days-need-this-life-plan-a-manifesto-to-stay-sane/&source=gmail&ust=1548006465029000&usg=AFQjCNEXOxiCYZ9f9_sUgHinYFHre0x4rA" href="https://annvoskamp.com/2019/01/crazy-stressed-days-need-this-life-plan-a-manifesto-to-stay-sane/" rel="noopener" style="color: #54aab6; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Life isn’t an emergency. It’s a gift.</a></div>
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Life’s so extraordinary it warrants going slow, held in reverential awe.</div>
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<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v%3DGhOUaszMGvQ&source=gmail&ust=1548006465029000&usg=AFQjCNG0Fhm5MZCtahB8Q4NIQn9PNrUwqA" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GhOUaszMGvQ" rel="noopener" style="color: #54aab6; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Only the slow see their lives. Which makes it seem longer and richer.</a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">9. Make Laughter Your Chocolate</span></div>
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<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/health-and-families/features/want-to-live-longer-carry-on-laughing-1097285.html&source=gmail&ust=1548006465029000&usg=AFQjCNEm3ILmnf6Hik9q1MSc-PeC6bn8Vw" href="http://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/health-and-families/features/want-to-live-longer-carry-on-laughing-1097285.html" rel="noopener" style="color: #54aab6; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">The more you laugh, the longer you live. </a>You can’t afford not to laugh more. <strong>Make laughter your chocolate</strong>.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">10. No songs without rhythm</span></div>
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Every song needs a rhythm; every week needs a routine. Tie certain tasks to a day or another activity.</div>
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Always memorize after breakfast or always make a double batch of soup on Saturday.</div>
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Your life makes music when you play a string of tasks always together.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">11. On 25, Take 5</span></div>
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For every 25 minutes “in the pool” working – take 5 minutes off. <strong>Live by pomodoros</strong>. Really. Life-changing.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">12. Unplug to plug into your purpose</span></div>
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Only if you want to plug into peace and purpose and your big picture – then unplug for certain hours everyday.</div>
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Constant connectivity effects productivity like a marijuana high.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">13.Watch Your Nos & Your Yeses will take Care of Themselves</span></div>
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Everything you say yes to, you say no to something else.</div>
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Are your yeses forcing you to say no to what really want to say yes to?</div>
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<strong>Don’t have guilt over a no – because every no is saying a better yes.</strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">14. Daily Stillness Appointment</span></div>
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When is your 5 minute stillness appointment everyday?</div>
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Write that midday time in stone. No cancellations allowed. For 5 minutes midday, be still and cease striving.</div>
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<em>Know He is God and the day looks very different.</em></div>
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Slow down: You only pass by this way once.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">15. If the Heaven’s Declare, get out there.</span></div>
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<em>The whole of the sky and the world is speaking endlessly of His glory.</em></div>
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When you step outside and listen, your soul revives. You need that.</div>
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<em>You really need one walk outside a day. </em>Even it’s just out the door to get the mail or walk the dog around the block or a walk around the yard before you have to get in the car.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">16. Work on your Wall before Noon</span></div>
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<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search%3DNehemiah%2B3%26version%3DNLT&source=gmail&ust=1548006465029000&usg=AFQjCNH3tbseklxmRS8DlluXrt5g4FTPeA" href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Nehemiah+3&version=NLT" rel="noopener" style="color: #54aab6; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Like Nehemiah who worked on rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem, build your wall</a>, building whatever God has uniquely called you to — a particular work project, a creative project, homeschooling, homemaking, a ministry. Everyday before noon, work on your wall, laying down 3 stones before noon.</div>
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<strong>If you don’t intentionally work on your wall, the tyranny of the urgent can make your life a rubble heap.</strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">17. Envision the End Goal</span></div>
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Like God gave Abraham a vision of the stars of the sky and told him he would have that many children, hang up a picture so you always have a vision of your goal.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">18. Everyday, not Every Now and Then</span></div>
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Random acts of greatness pale in comparison to habitual acts of faithfulness.</div>
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<strong>It’s not what you do every now and then, but what you do everyday, that changes everything. </strong></div>
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Do something at the same time everyday and you find yourself a new person.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">19. Hard Stops</span></div>
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<strong>The only way to get anywhere safely is to make complete stops.</strong></div>
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<strong>Make hard, complete stops at set times throughout the day to pray.</strong> Otherwise you’re risking a crash.</div>
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9, 12, 3, on the hour, might be times to set an a gentle, chime alarm for – and just stop and pray.</div>
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<strong>Praying at set times throughout the day is how both Jesus and the early church lived their days: God marking time.</strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">20. The Holy, Happiness Habit {Count Gifts}</span></div>
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Write down 3 things a day you are grateful for. Hunt for His glory. Look for the beauty. <a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://annvoskamp.com/one-thousand-gifts-book/&source=gmail&ust=1548006465029000&usg=AFQjCNGHzBszcJ0V9kEYU4jD5kgrxa-csA" href="https://annvoskamp.com/one-thousand-gifts-book/" rel="noopener" style="color: #54aab6; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Count 1000 gifts.</a></div>
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<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v%3DJvHK2qe1LWU%26feature%3Dplayer_embedded&source=gmail&ust=1548006465029000&usg=AFQjCNE1kfo3mkQO0bPoCtJyIOUU4tPCiw" href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JvHK2qe1LWU&feature=player_embedded" rel="noopener" style="color: #54aab6; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">All research says that giving thanks is guaranteed to make you 25% happier</a>. <strong>Who. Doesn’t. Want. That.?</strong></div>
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<strong>Thank Him for this is definitely God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.</strong></div>
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<a data-saferedirecturl="https://www.google.com/url?q=https://annvoskamp.com/sticky-notes-signup/&source=gmail&ust=1548006465029000&usg=AFQjCNHbESV547QCmW_EZIcDv5bfXHhxAA" href="https://annvoskamp.com/sticky-notes-signup/" rel="noopener" style="color: #54aab6; text-decoration-line: none;" target="_blank">Take the Joy Dare! </a><strong>Make right where you are your happy place.</strong></div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">21. Ebenezers for the Efforts</span></div>
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Mark little milestones! <strong>Celebrate</strong>! The little things!</div>
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A treat at the end of the day, end of the week, end of the project, end of the term.</div>
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Hang a bunting. Taste something sweet. Take a happy, thumbs up picture to mark your progress!</div>
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Make an album of a year, of the process, of the overcoming.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">22. Father Affirmations</span></div>
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You need these everyday. Whisper them aloud, <strong>who you really are if you are IN Christ:</strong></div>
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I am complete in Christ. Colossians 2:9-10<br />
I have direct access to the throne of grace through Jesus Christ. Hebrews 4:14-16<br />
I am free from condemnation. Romans 8:1-2<br />
I am assured that God works for my good in all circumstances. Romans 8:28<br />
I am free from any condemnation brought against me and I cannot be separated from the love of God. Romans 8:31-39<br />
I am confident that God will complete the good work He started in me. Philippians 1:6<br />
I have not been given a spirit of fear but of power, love and a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">23. Breathe</span></div>
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<strong>Breathing in and breathing out like this will radically change the quality of your life.</strong> <em>Breathe.</em></div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">24. Hard and Bad Day? Hot Bath</span></div>
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An evening routine of a hot bath at the end of the hard and bad days?</div>
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Yes.</div>
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<span style="font-size: 35px;">25. Rest so you can have the rest of God.</span></div>
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Sleep is more than your friend — it’s your God-given fuel.</div>
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Tomorrow always begins with the night before, so turn in early so tomorrow can turn out well.</div>
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<img align="none" class="m_1405022375287567743alignnone m_1405022375287567743size-medium CToWUd a6T" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/proxy/AVvXsEhL-qIJ-c5ZWH5w3akvNT0KeN0jl3t8va5xTrDuhY6o1KMCUARS7YHV9wFK4wX2AwN-4qB3LCPxaXDA10Q8-pTmW0fCWUgyaTCQALuUzX_EFnzSDGlh5v4lYQlaohySLq27AInh4C8_fvgH1g8c7QMgWzF2JALYPOqJflK22gpUq3c=s0-d-e1-ft" style="background-color: transparent; height: auto; max-width: 640px; width: 100%;" tabindex="0" width="100%" /></div>
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Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-40861918907256121082019-01-10T14:51:00.000-05:002019-01-17T12:38:50.298-05:00CONVERSATIONS BETWEEN MOMS AND KIDS<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our daughter, Katy, shared these gems awhile back.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">"Andrew, quit licking the wall.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Caleb, now you quit licking the wall."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Good thing they quit licking the wall or they could grow up and land on a porch video like this creepy guy!</span><br />
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<iframe allowfullscreen="" class="YOUTUBE-iframe-video" data-thumbnail-src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/LB3QaVa7AVY/0.jpg" frameborder="0" height="266" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/LB3QaVa7AVY?feature=player_embedded" width="320"></iframe></div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Another day Katy had a conversation with her middle son. "David, spit that rock out of your mouth." </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">David, Caleb and Andrew</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Mom, I drank some water and the rock in my mouth went down into my brain and then came up again."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Well, that's a good reason not to put rocks in your mouth."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Maybe that's how it begins for hard heads. Notice she's wise enough not to use logical anatomy at this point in his young life.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PlNg_ZBp52EgbkU_WOi9so5H5_0zSdA421r0_ouLj6W9Th6_BguahdlOmzr_9uxlYIByhW70ctMg9MUwUp8kOZzQ2rMq6i392LSXqJ0H3cC7J5HXh_1zlV0Z-3kuzuovX83oeC97Hwc/s1600/flat%252C1000x1000%252C075%252Cf.u3.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5PlNg_ZBp52EgbkU_WOi9so5H5_0zSdA421r0_ouLj6W9Th6_BguahdlOmzr_9uxlYIByhW70ctMg9MUwUp8kOZzQ2rMq6i392LSXqJ0H3cC7J5HXh_1zlV0Z-3kuzuovX83oeC97Hwc/s320/flat%252C1000x1000%252C075%252Cf.u3.jpg" width="320" /></a></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><span style="font-size: large;">Katy doesn't remember which of her six heard her say, "Sweetie, take the bag off your head. You're gonna' suffocate yourself!" But she still has six kids so apparently he or she listened and obeyed. We're thankful.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">James, the baby, was about three when he awkwardly donned one of his brother's backpacks. "I go to school, Mama!" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Katy informs him, "</span><span style="font-size: large;">No, you can't go to school. You poop in your pants." Sound reasoning from an expert diaper changer. She's gleefully past that stage now. He's five and poops in the potty!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So we occasionally get girl time now days! Even got our nails did.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCXtYMK9ZCC8f7esaOKAq41cZZbN7wnfj4eA26Ja9ZQA7x-9TLYCFxn2MMs_0n0glcBNScd1h7tqExaC1gZqCoWnq-wNCTYnl75NHwEXMvcH_vlrztBod3aYRaJ4HWNm3LJV17TEgAelw/s1600/35271982_1945029922187575_3242845388180291584_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCXtYMK9ZCC8f7esaOKAq41cZZbN7wnfj4eA26Ja9ZQA7x-9TLYCFxn2MMs_0n0glcBNScd1h7tqExaC1gZqCoWnq-wNCTYnl75NHwEXMvcH_vlrztBod3aYRaJ4HWNm3LJV17TEgAelw/s400/35271982_1945029922187575_3242845388180291584_n.jpg" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">The stories in her husband's family go back to his childhood and his grandparents. </span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Dave's Opa warned Oma, who was shelling peas, "Now don't let those boys put peas up their nose." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Later in the day she told him he shouldn't have given them the idea because <b><i>they</i></b> did! They retrieved nose peas from all but one boy. Later he had to go to the doctor to get his pea removed. It had sprouted!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our firstborn daughter, Kimberly, has amazing discussions too. Her son, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Blake, wanted to be trusted to stay home alone like his big brother, J. D. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE TEST CONVERSATION:</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Blake, what would you do if someone came to the door?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br />After his thoughtful pause, remembering his mother's gift of hospitality, he chirped, "I'd say 'Come in!' <i>. . .</i>Oh! And I'd serve snacks."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Seeing his mother's horrified face, he expounded, "I mean <i>heathy</i> snacks, Mom, like carrots!" </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">He smiled proudly.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Her eyes enlarged. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">His smile disappeared instantly.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Blake, pondering what he'd forgotten, finally added, "Oh yeah! And I'd introduce myself too."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Both boys grew up and became gentlemen who know when to introduce themselves, when to answer the door and when to hug Nana.</span></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzZNBiVnpdmjbhzM-VW24ilRuJFYo85qWhUgulq0j3zXfBswNxUgKLI3HDaXfAjrBizISpqdccmZFOyqaD1rUAeIiaJ0E7zYZbauABXO0eLm8GdBUuAR3ijPH0YKXZQ4FNJfipukoxX90/s1600/37914542_10217142957474940_9089780721244962816_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzZNBiVnpdmjbhzM-VW24ilRuJFYo85qWhUgulq0j3zXfBswNxUgKLI3HDaXfAjrBizISpqdccmZFOyqaD1rUAeIiaJ0E7zYZbauABXO0eLm8GdBUuAR3ijPH0YKXZQ4FNJfipukoxX90/s400/37914542_10217142957474940_9089780721244962816_n.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">I ran a similar test on Kimberly, maybe ten at the time. She wanted to stay home with her younger brother and sister, while I shopped with Mama and my sister-in-law, Gwen. So I drilled her on when to answer the phone, who to call in case of various emergencies, what to say or do in certain situations, and to NEVER answer the door.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">THE TEST</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"OK, we're going shopping, Kimberly. Remember the rules."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"I know, Mom, I know," said the know-it-all.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">So we drove off but I decided to circle the block. I stopped a few houses away and snuck onto our porch. As I rang the doorbell, I prayed she wouldn't answer.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">She answered. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">She flung the door wide open to hear, "KIMBERLY RUTH HENDERSON!"</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Well, Mom, I <i>figured</i> it was you. I was right." She always is!</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Mama and Gwen shopped without me that day.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Now days Kimberly and I love to shop together and include her daughter, Elizabeth.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAVt76t_6SkY0SSxcvoVIr6dSwt_COKmBG7jwRVPO7VOJ75CdcskTkzZF5bR5EvUX33tWC1PO0Vhpf5JW37guLmmu5GneGekXKCQ-7cfr-ao2i67GYwkXlfox72Ngfw-TnBOX7OiWuv-Y/s1600/14955903_10211235141663237_2487787463393812303_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjAVt76t_6SkY0SSxcvoVIr6dSwt_COKmBG7jwRVPO7VOJ75CdcskTkzZF5bR5EvUX33tWC1PO0Vhpf5JW37guLmmu5GneGekXKCQ-7cfr-ao2i67GYwkXlfox72Ngfw-TnBOX7OiWuv-Y/s640/14955903_10211235141663237_2487787463393812303_n.jpg" width="360" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kimberly, Elizabeth and Nana at Tanger in Myrtle Beach, carrying on the family tradition</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">My conversations with Kimberly were interesting even when she was a toddler. I was trying to pay bills but Miss Chatter Chin* bombarded me with questions and interruptions. Losing patience, I looked up and prayed aloud, "Lord, please make her be quiet!"</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">Not losing a beat, she too looked up pleading, "Lord, please let me talk."</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"He said I could, Mom!"</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">How do you trump God?</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Why do you ask so many questions, child?"</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">"Cause that's how ya' learn stuff, Mom."</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0br09N5AxgGcTVo-nGK3si5FHIreoQNaXdyAlP8tKs5iOazqCLB0ioo6_-8CdTeE4hh-yW5NWd6gvThgyub1ignsxxSOhelio81dWMrGREEmC25kbEJzp8wcrCh0BtOryDxPHUutXmgI/s1600/scan0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" data-original-height="1260" data-original-width="863" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0br09N5AxgGcTVo-nGK3si5FHIreoQNaXdyAlP8tKs5iOazqCLB0ioo6_-8CdTeE4hh-yW5NWd6gvThgyub1ignsxxSOhelio81dWMrGREEmC25kbEJzp8wcrCh0BtOryDxPHUutXmgI/s400/scan0003.jpg" title="I was being a good mother on this day." width="273" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I was being a good mother on this day.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">She <i>is </i>a smart cookie. Still! And an excellent speaker.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">* </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">I remember a poem from THE JOLLY JINGLE BOOK called “Chatter Chin.” It goes something like this:</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">Everyday when I come in, I hear my little chatter chin.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;"> Chatter this and chatter that, f</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">irst the dog and then the cat.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">Yarns she picked up from the cook, s</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">tories from her fairy book,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;"> Questions wiser than she knows, h</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">ow the honeysuckle grows.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">Why the firefly has light, w</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">hy the moon comes out at night,</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;"> What keeps birds up in the air, w</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">hat makes people have red hair.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">I give up when you begin, l</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "lucida grande" , "verdana" , "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: 15.75px; text-align: justify;">ittle chatter, chatter chin!</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></span>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-64688555910306681922019-01-08T16:58:00.001-05:002019-01-12T10:25:19.777-05:00MY NEW YEAR'S REVELATION<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Many years ago after church we asked Kimberly and Kent, "How was children's church?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"Fine," they dueted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">"What did you learn?" I probed for full sentences.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Kent piped up, "We learned about New Year's RESERVATIONS!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Big sister, Kimberly, confidently corrected him, "No, Kent! It's New Year's REVOLUTIONS!"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our laughter cued them to clam up, a bit less confident, until one mumbled, "Maybe. . .Revelations?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">I'm not big on New Year's RESOLUTIONS either. Never have been. Maybe I have a defeatist attitude but it's not my habit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">This year I began to hear or read about an idea that appealed to me though. So I've decided to choose a New Year's WORD. I prayed about it this week, asking the Lord to clarify my annual desires into one specific word. It came to me yesterday. My word this year is:</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWRdF0_DkLULzKoaywELbji5-0_M1Fkp0o010NZwhcebsDbP6xhNLfFRkKpd_ssYwVZ6WPQwkfEzpue3q8Lr3RDKZNSLKZo_FL-1Pv181TTWsmoCegeuq0-5oybznYzmmtgj7cW3s9kEQ/s1600/49731890_10218449860546700_8140223693310656512_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhWRdF0_DkLULzKoaywELbji5-0_M1Fkp0o010NZwhcebsDbP6xhNLfFRkKpd_ssYwVZ6WPQwkfEzpue3q8Lr3RDKZNSLKZo_FL-1Pv181TTWsmoCegeuq0-5oybznYzmmtgj7cW3s9kEQ/s400/49731890_10218449860546700_8140223693310656512_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doug carved this into a pallet board I found and it hangs where I see it often.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">We usually associate it with food. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5otTRMSZPlFXGrlh183NdXxXs_uVBKORDOaBBG112grKv0zT4Ws5w5LVsJIieCasC-B7ISmo3xt4tLf6EeQzq4v4nUx6Hpk6YupIYjh1AaDPUxaqsioJ2zYLLb-2ielHCbCZe_40YgY/s1600/download-2.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="436" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjj5otTRMSZPlFXGrlh183NdXxXs_uVBKORDOaBBG112grKv0zT4Ws5w5LVsJIieCasC-B7ISmo3xt4tLf6EeQzq4v4nUx6Hpk6YupIYjh1AaDPUxaqsioJ2zYLLb-2ielHCbCZe_40YgY/s640/download-2.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">But I found many interesting things one can savor:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-mR_RyfvzZALA3rST-U1iCvSsQZy82rHvmUCfLEN8G9AYS5Y2NEKoKofF-k-sKNcagQpjdbQzmdtpVgycIfcYYQCEk4F97VxXwTzGUCnVQsxT8OD_fYWyI6e3_fHhehUhWteMUGDQhE/s1600/th.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="288" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhj-mR_RyfvzZALA3rST-U1iCvSsQZy82rHvmUCfLEN8G9AYS5Y2NEKoKofF-k-sKNcagQpjdbQzmdtpVgycIfcYYQCEk4F97VxXwTzGUCnVQsxT8OD_fYWyI6e3_fHhehUhWteMUGDQhE/s400/th.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdTnNHmYpPoaRymAuA6DCFkFrIRKPbmmzuhy8zyCVCiZn71yA9DN_Hpf4yhLOYeDZsKQSEQ41r-CP-ID40kHunHKNNeIMbe_YiIyyX9G8Tc2eAxWGCfIdIISf5JCtbrbkkf4n8WP-y2c/s1600/download-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihdTnNHmYpPoaRymAuA6DCFkFrIRKPbmmzuhy8zyCVCiZn71yA9DN_Hpf4yhLOYeDZsKQSEQ41r-CP-ID40kHunHKNNeIMbe_YiIyyX9G8Tc2eAxWGCfIdIISf5JCtbrbkkf4n8WP-y2c/s320/download-1.jpg" width="320" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8AzbTPeceHzelhzhlb9WVczPBvl4ZqDiatrSLAHW29Uic3iqXp4KgOm_JuM0h_Wm7HSxAxiL6vUrxlHh6l6xVQbsdpoMXMo8481AdgxT6ZTZbcUIkJOd6I9FXtaFfbCuYkt_u7m5yNqE/s1600/th-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8AzbTPeceHzelhzhlb9WVczPBvl4ZqDiatrSLAHW29Uic3iqXp4KgOm_JuM0h_Wm7HSxAxiL6vUrxlHh6l6xVQbsdpoMXMo8481AdgxT6ZTZbcUIkJOd6I9FXtaFfbCuYkt_u7m5yNqE/s320/th-1.jpg" width="244" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Coming closer to my heart's intention is:</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1TonnwoXPqwFnOqI9SurBJmp1DSbU107SKs2QGdIgkhSiBmSNFkaR_YB3grZySSGw0HeZ9W9rLU8KgFxrbh6tzwKIe5NwA3hu7cfVMzfvqqGnOGrqUzkkyyw73GR4hS-vtM-Po942BiA/s1600/download.jpg" imageanchor="1"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1TonnwoXPqwFnOqI9SurBJmp1DSbU107SKs2QGdIgkhSiBmSNFkaR_YB3grZySSGw0HeZ9W9rLU8KgFxrbh6tzwKIe5NwA3hu7cfVMzfvqqGnOGrqUzkkyyw73GR4hS-vtM-Po942BiA/s640/download.jpg" width="632" /></a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">I want to be fully present in every moment of life. If I listen to a friend, I want to give her my undivided attention. If I'm watching a good movie, I want to resist multi-tasking, though I THINK I'm good at it. No one actually is! If I'm reading something worthwhile it deserves my full concentration.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">We all know how it feels to be sharing with someone and realize their eyes, mind and attention are wandering, clearly not focused on our words. Listening is a skill I try to develop. What a gift, however, to open my heart to someone who</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">* nods as I speak</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">* leans in</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">* shows empathy in facial expression</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Life is a gift from God. When I pray, I know He hears every word. Of course He is God and I am not. So for me to SAVOR each moment I am blessed to live, I'll need His help to avoid distractions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">To me, this is a bigger task for 2019 than a resolution. I can't do it without Him. ADD was not a diagnosis when I was young. However, I may have invented it!</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">So I suppose it must begin with SAVORING my SAVIOR daily. I want my prayers to be a sweet smelling savor to Him. I want to practice the PRESENCE of the Great I AM, to be in the present tense.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Distractions for me come primarily in pondering the</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;">* FUTURE--To Do lists, worries, schedules</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large; text-align: center;"> OR</span></div>
<span style="font-size: large;">* PAST--regrets, hurts, should'ves</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">There it is again! I can only live life or worship in THIS MOMENT.</span><br />
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<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Lord, help me to savor Your goodness. Keep me aware of the gifts of FRIENDSHIPS, MINISTRY, FAMILY, MUSIC, FOOD, WORK, PLAY and LAUGHTER. Protect me from a life too busy or too cluttered.</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">In Jesus' Name,</span></i><br />
<i><span style="font-family: "trebuchet ms" , sans-serif;">Kathy</span></i><br />
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<br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-46326150898661494392017-08-26T11:27:00.000-04:002017-08-26T11:50:40.282-04:00Self Absorbtion Talk<div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"You're such a good speaker," someone told my mama after she gave a devotional. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Oh, I'm more of a talker than a speaker," she replied.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I think I'm very much like Mama. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dXcmFNnB4MdVyXQZUC3nUdm-KsQmElaE7_vBrjSJMOhkMygR7ABZFiPG0uV2r4zTK5TrlTm0I0T9k_jqd76Lm8LZ74IT8rFWYhD9wnHl9x3EzuOywewzhlfBBb780PxpsU_CpafOcF4/s1600/scan0001+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1087" height="309" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dXcmFNnB4MdVyXQZUC3nUdm-KsQmElaE7_vBrjSJMOhkMygR7ABZFiPG0uV2r4zTK5TrlTm0I0T9k_jqd76Lm8LZ74IT8rFWYhD9wnHl9x3EzuOywewzhlfBBb780PxpsU_CpafOcF4/s320/scan0001+%25282%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">How does one distinguish between speaking and talking? I shun the word blabbermouth. But sometimes the line between the two is a matter of temperance. Speaking should balance with listening.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I do love to share what God is doing in my life through conversation or a devotional. I am a teacher. Someone might then say, "I wish I could speak." God gave us all abilities, gifts to use for His glory and for others. Imagine a teacher who was petrified to speak! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So if God called you to help or serve others, your gift may not be speaking or teaching. Gift projection <i>(thinking everyone should do what I'm called to do)</i> and gift envy <i>("I wish I could. . .") </i>are traps that sidetrack us from God's call on our lives.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My real need was to learn to LISTEN. To be silent. Silent time with God also helps me do so with others. I see myself as a soft shoulder for others to cry on. I hurt with the hurting. Mama was like that too. As a talker though I have to hold back at times on giving advice, when all they want is an ear. Easy? No.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRJYlRpo2L8srl08qbj88TMWW1HndvVoEO-rfYSIw7eBLYsaY-EBis-w6hXI2WOEhgBUnB2Zg_EVSMRJCMYP9O-8RdA22d8VS67hjgZtckv2mQrO60ImY3zbnBB-DnRm40JrWDKCDqOyk/s1600/3468939142_d1f6e59217_z.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="450" data-original-width="640" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRJYlRpo2L8srl08qbj88TMWW1HndvVoEO-rfYSIw7eBLYsaY-EBis-w6hXI2WOEhgBUnB2Zg_EVSMRJCMYP9O-8RdA22d8VS67hjgZtckv2mQrO60ImY3zbnBB-DnRm40JrWDKCDqOyk/s320/3468939142_d1f6e59217_z.jpg" width="320" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Years ago a depressed friend called me almost every evening, often interrupting our family supper. Because her "Hello" began in tears, I'd leave the table and miss our family mealtime. They grew to resent it, obvious by the eye rolling and waves when the phone rang. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She complained and whined endlessly day after day. I decided not to say a thing about myself for a week. She never noticed. She didn't care about my life. She was really more of a neighbor than a friend. Self absorbed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I never want to become that person, consumed by self-absorbtion talk. Every trial must be shared in droning detail. Every good deed must be proclaimed for others to hear. There's no heavenly reward in that! It can lead to approval addiction.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As Dr. Phil says, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"There's something about you I don't like in me." </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sometimes my best motivator is seeing the mote in someone else and realizing it disturbs me because it's a reflection of my own beam!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I learned some lessons from those nightly phone calls. Talking comes easy. Listening is an acquired skill. Every thought in my head does not need to be spoken. JUST SHUT UP! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This lady's writing reveals the desperate lengths this road takes one into a constant need to be heard and approved of by others. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><a href="http://lists.proverbs31.org/lt/t_go.php?i=481&e=MTg1Nzg5&l=-http--proverbs31devotions.blogspot.com/2010/03/approval-addiction.html" style="color: #2a5db0;" target="_blank">Approval Addiction</a></span></h1>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">23 Mar 2010</span></h4>
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><strong style="color: #2a5db0;"><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://lists.proverbs31.org/lt/t_go.php?i=481&e=MTg1Nzg5&l=-http--www.proverbs31.org/speakingministry/speakerteam/ShariBraendel.php" style="color: #2a5db0;" target="_blank">Shari Braendel</a></span></strong></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><em>"Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others." Philippians 2:4 (NIV)</em></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">PROV. 31 DEVO:</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">One day I got tired of hearing myself talk.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">During a time when everything seemed to be going well, I found myself in a whirlwind where God revealed to me that my life was actually out of control. I knew I was walking the path He had laid out for me and it lined up with my passion for helping others. The problem was that I had become so good at it I didn't feel the need to call on God's help anymore.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">What I did come to need, however, was others to tell me I was doing a good job. In fact, if someone didn't pat me on the back, I would tell them about my good deeds!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Everywhere I went people told me how skilled I was at do ing this particular thing. I had become so adept at it that I figured there was no need to consult God anymore. I stopped praying much about it and would just "do." In the middle of my doing, however, I would make sure and ask others if I was doing it okay.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">One day I was talking to someone and God allowed me to see myself, almost like I was listening as an outsider. I hated what I had become. Who was this person? Why was she talking so much? Who cared that she did this or that? Oh my goodness, what had become of me?!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">I decided that day to stop talking about myself. I decided to quit depending on other people's thoughts about what I was doing, or how I was doing it. I decided that the only One I needed to impress was God. I knew that it wasn't going to happen without thought and planning. This desire for approval was not going to go away by itself.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">First, I sat down and had a good cry. Then I consulted God and prayed. I made a decision to be quiet about myself for 30 days. Whenever I talked to someone, I would not mention "me" at all. I would not recount my accomplishments, my breakthroughs, or my shortcomings. Nothing. I decided to begin listening to others as if hearing them for the first time. If they asked about me, I would simply answer, "I'm doing great, thank you." That's it. No more information. I wanted to turn outward and begin to invest in other people's lives.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif; font-size: xx-small;">Well, 30 days turned into 60 days, and then into 90. I will tell you...I'm different now. My friends would probably agree, but I can honestly say I don't desire their approval anymore. It's funny how when we turn attention away from ourselves, we end up feeling more complete in the end. Because truly, the only thing that completes us is God.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;">Dear Lord, forgive me for seeking approval from anyone but You. Teach me to be silent so I can hear others and most importantly, hear You. Bring to my attention, in a way that only You can, times when I am becoming self-absorbed during conversations. Thank You for loving me enough to help me grow. In Jesus' Name, Amen.</span></span><br />
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Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-77863357249663045562017-07-01T11:25:00.001-04:002017-07-01T11:29:19.485-04:00Youth<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPynXQKjziEB3DfblZqmB2iL2ijk9NIFchP7Qd8mctLr-6bmSACudyXI8bZb7jGIw2-mGkwlyC6UxEBB2ksp1jZLB5xNY0NdYXDT_9Jw9Q9EF_k6Flqy3AXQX7BchN4Pejt3dj-bf8IK0/s1600/scan0012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1036" data-original-width="749" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPynXQKjziEB3DfblZqmB2iL2ijk9NIFchP7Qd8mctLr-6bmSACudyXI8bZb7jGIw2-mGkwlyC6UxEBB2ksp1jZLB5xNY0NdYXDT_9Jw9Q9EF_k6Flqy3AXQX7BchN4Pejt3dj-bf8IK0/s400/scan0012.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Janice Baskins Banks</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTw6JiZQ5nrnHeIISoyL0I5w3IfG4zGWMZMInAItOlbG4uZQq6t0SIOyebc94QADgClSQM_NRigkxUP5nRjS8sqxB64uQDmaDSrcPLyKsVukCPBevB53Z0DBkAciuus8kaFESEJcutThw/s1600/scan0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1072" data-original-width="1073" height="398" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTw6JiZQ5nrnHeIISoyL0I5w3IfG4zGWMZMInAItOlbG4uZQq6t0SIOyebc94QADgClSQM_NRigkxUP5nRjS8sqxB64uQDmaDSrcPLyKsVukCPBevB53Z0DBkAciuus8kaFESEJcutThw/s400/scan0002.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Doug Henderson & Kathy Tippett (college years)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dXcmFNnB4MdVyXQZUC3nUdm-KsQmElaE7_vBrjSJMOhkMygR7ABZFiPG0uV2r4zTK5TrlTm0I0T9k_jqd76Lm8LZ74IT8rFWYhD9wnHl9x3EzuOywewzhlfBBb780PxpsU_CpafOcF4/s1600/scan0001+%25282%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1050" data-original-width="1087" height="386" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1dXcmFNnB4MdVyXQZUC3nUdm-KsQmElaE7_vBrjSJMOhkMygR7ABZFiPG0uV2r4zTK5TrlTm0I0T9k_jqd76Lm8LZ74IT8rFWYhD9wnHl9x3EzuOywewzhlfBBb780PxpsU_CpafOcF4/s400/scan0001+%25282%2529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kathryn & Elbert Tippett</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZT61RM7_LJaOpkpwoImH08jImb1HJ7qTYtKX6Qq9ZXcR8EZj2QY5EVMGEhniwP3m2wwNIOobkRb36QQCi3OR7IbAFeGluk2HKG2AWA4YUAhEZX9pG0Y2VYQ7HgjzY5PlM6BfkzHbEg8/s1600/scan0002.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1474" data-original-width="1044" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGZT61RM7_LJaOpkpwoImH08jImb1HJ7qTYtKX6Qq9ZXcR8EZj2QY5EVMGEhniwP3m2wwNIOobkRb36QQCi3OR7IbAFeGluk2HKG2AWA4YUAhEZX9pG0Y2VYQ7HgjzY5PlM6BfkzHbEg8/s400/scan0002.jpg" width="282" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kathryn Tippett</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv46w5JkxEoEv8u9u7070924c_KLEAsBeGxsGr6pWQ2phH9lTp17C_vstpc-k319foTB3zccN68oWh7gl_1mhbM9Y7syc6GahTEapUnkjHj4yjb25HhN0FJTfGCMu_rF8FBbG6P-VNDgU/s1600/scan0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="912" data-original-width="588" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjv46w5JkxEoEv8u9u7070924c_KLEAsBeGxsGr6pWQ2phH9lTp17C_vstpc-k319foTB3zccN68oWh7gl_1mhbM9Y7syc6GahTEapUnkjHj4yjb25HhN0FJTfGCMu_rF8FBbG6P-VNDgU/s400/scan0003.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ricky Tippett</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99EDQyYYdwHOcclIthTXbK31jrNcizuCsuZ-0VxW6Ic-_PcdnXMNbXD_D481vYQrHOdqqeF1Jb0SCxcBgIrPjmt56umxz4oGgifb7nHkqDd-XRfoimKwsA3_rYX-tlc1CKOT92iwAQm0/s1600/scan0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1013" data-original-width="1044" height="387" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi99EDQyYYdwHOcclIthTXbK31jrNcizuCsuZ-0VxW6Ic-_PcdnXMNbXD_D481vYQrHOdqqeF1Jb0SCxcBgIrPjmt56umxz4oGgifb7nHkqDd-XRfoimKwsA3_rYX-tlc1CKOT92iwAQm0/s400/scan0004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kathy Tippett college FWBBC</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOUVphYznZa4vEFRBHT0ay9JT4_7skNtSHkM66stWj4_waoqyRS1nWOw6ZXezybe-ZU3DJFB6vL1f1XSY47f6JcGDtI3sXqV_188Az0ajAG_GIaWwNRoL0QtD0ldjOtFMKAr2KLrynW0/s1600/10255715_10203619405754599_7280150712957750046_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="448" data-original-width="608" height="293" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSOUVphYznZa4vEFRBHT0ay9JT4_7skNtSHkM66stWj4_waoqyRS1nWOw6ZXezybe-ZU3DJFB6vL1f1XSY47f6JcGDtI3sXqV_188Az0ajAG_GIaWwNRoL0QtD0ldjOtFMKAr2KLrynW0/s400/10255715_10203619405754599_7280150712957750046_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Tippett family with Bert in the middle</td></tr>
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<br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-17725932721458641592017-01-16T12:00:00.000-05:002017-01-16T12:00:28.796-05:00PAPA AND THE MULE <i>My younger brother, Ricky Tippett, shares a story from our family. It's one worth preserving!</i><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDMGieNhRKGwy3K-Thyphenhyphenykicys9PbtpGBwrR0j3ttIvuGUZzBjZgmut6ea7bcjBYYWggwdv-0Wfh8TbE10Fgr8KAh_oSFdXt_7sCCgbyBty8R8H3WswJk2sX89JWm9SRS7V1xzjA9vUO_w/s1600/scan0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDMGieNhRKGwy3K-Thyphenhyphenykicys9PbtpGBwrR0j3ttIvuGUZzBjZgmut6ea7bcjBYYWggwdv-0Wfh8TbE10Fgr8KAh_oSFdXt_7sCCgbyBty8R8H3WswJk2sX89JWm9SRS7V1xzjA9vUO_w/s400/scan0003.jpg" width="257" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ricky. . .the younger</td></tr>
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Papa and the Mule</div>
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My Dad died in 1993, and I often think about the legacy he left me as a boy and later as a man. Filled with wisdom and discernment, his quiet way drew people to seek him out for counsel.</div>
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One day, many years before he died, Dad told me a story about his father—my Papa—from my Dad’s younger days on the farm. Though poor in many ways, my parents were rich with strong families that loved God and loved people. Farming can be a tough life and I think that’s a major reason Dad decided to enlist in the U.S. Navy as soon as he graduated from high school.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Daddy, the enlisted sailor</td></tr>
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When Dad was a boy Papa hitched up their only mule and went out behind the house to plow the field. Everything was going well, until about the end of the third furrow and that was when the mule decided he had plowed enough. Stubbornly standing still, the mule refused to take another step. Papa snapped the reins and talked to the mule. “Come on, now! Let’s go! Work to do!”</div>
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But the mule just stood there refusing to budge.</div>
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Dad smiled as he watched the scene unfold, but he had enough sense not to laugh at times like this. Papa had his own boiling points and this was not a time for a son to snicker at his father’s frustration. Dad told me that he looked down or back at the house and Papa didn’t see him grinning.</div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Papa Tippett with Lloyd Jr.</td></tr>
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Back at the mule, however, it was not going so well. By this time, Papa was pulling on the mule’s bridle and yelling at him to come on and plow. With each tug Papa’s mood changed from irritation to anger and now to the final level.</div>
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No longer smiling, Dad just watched Papa’s futile efforts to convince that mule to move forward.</div>
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Not sure whether it was a warning to the mule or just rage talking, Papa screamed, “Fine! Just stay right there!”</div>
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Stomping off to the barn about a hundred yards away, Papa soon came back out with a huge four-by-four post in his hands. While Papa was not a big, heavy man, he was a tall, lanky man and the post in his hands looked small. But there was nothing small about it.</div>
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Now standing in front of the immovable mass of flesh, Papa held the post up to the mule’s eyes so he could clearly see it. “You see this post? Well, you better see it,” Papa yelled. “Cause I’m about to lower it onto your mangy head if you don’t start plowing right now!”</div>
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Not convinced, evidently, the mule just stood there staring back. As if Papa was counting it down, …. 3…. 2…. 1…..</div>
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Papa raised that post over his head with both arms and with all of the force he could muster and all of the rage in his head, he whacked that mule on the top of his head, right between the eyes.</div>
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Dad said that he saw that big old mule drop to the ground so fast that he never even saw his knees buckle. It was just dead weight that hit the ground so quickly it didn’t even seem real.</div>
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No longer smirking, Dad was shocked. He remembered thinking, “Oh, my goodness! Daddy his just killed our only mule!”</div>
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The mule’s eyes were closed and he was absolutely dead still. Papa showed no signs of remorse and seemed glad the mule moved at last, even if it was in the wrong direction and for the last time.</div>
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Dad was wondering what they were going to do without a plowing mule. Papa was just staring down at his dead mule.</div>
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There was another surprise to come. Dad noticed after a few minutes that one of the mule’s hind legs twitched. Then another leg moved and suddenly the mule jumped up to a standing position and without another word from Papa, the mule started to plow right where he had left off.</div>
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Dad said that Papa had to hurry to catch up to the mule and get ahold of the reins. I remember smiling when Dad talked about how the mule never stopped the rest of the day, but plowed the whole field until the sun went down.</div>
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Then one morning I came across this verse in Psalm 32 and this scene from decades ago played out again in my mind…</div>
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Be ye not as the horse,<br />
or as the mule, which have no understanding:<br />
whose mouth must be held in with bit and bridle,<br />
lest they come near unto thee.<br />
(Ps. 32:9)</div>
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While the mule is known for being stubborn the horse is known for being uncontrollable and impetuous. Both are bad. Both want to go their own way. Both need the controlling bit and bridle. One is stubborn. One is impetuous and impulsive.</div>
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I don’t have a good horse story about being brash and headstrong. But I don’t need a horse story. I have been like that old mule enough to learn that I need God to control me. That’s why I am drawn to the verse preceding this negative verse about two animals. I love verse 8 –</div>
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I will instruct thee and teach thee in the way which thou shalt go:<br />
I will guide thee with mine eye.</div>
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I can go my own way like the horse or the mule or I can learn from them.</div>
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Regardless, God always gets His way.</div>
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Submission is a lot easier without scars left behind by a four-by-four post.</div>
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Ricky Tippett</div>
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Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-71171029821212381162016-11-11T13:07:00.000-05:002016-11-11T13:08:06.477-05:00MY FAVORITE VETERAN<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today is a day to show gratitude to the many veterans, both living and dead, who sacrificed to give us our American freedoms and rights. I thank you one and all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But I must confess, one veteran holds top place in my heart. He was called Chief Warrant Officer Tippett. I called him Dad.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He taught me <b>respect</b>. Naval officers don't move through ranks from enlisted to officer without that. They don't have to agree with their superiors but must respect the authority of the position.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I learned to respect him and Mama at home. That translated into honoring God as my ultimate authority.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He taught me <b>loyalty. </b>Dad modeled loyalty not only to the Navy but to all military branches and America. I remember him often saying, "We're not a perfect nation but we ARE the best nation in the world." He's still right on that. The land of the free is still where refugees long to come. That translated into loyalty to my family, my church and my friends. In the Christian walk, we call it faithfulness.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He taught me to <b>grow in education and learning. </b>That's how one moves through the various military ranks, by study and hard work. As his children, Bert, Ricky and I were the first generation to finish college or go on to graduate degrees. He modeled Christ who also "grew in wisdom and knowledge."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He taught me a strong <b>work ethic. </b> He didn't need someone watching over him to do the job right nor to complete it. We learned that at home with chores. As adults it translated into working "as unto the Lord" not merely giving eye service to our bosses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He taught me <b>honesty. </b> Dad served in various areas of food service. Sometimes it was in the commissary other times in the mess hall. He was not a cook but was over many who did cook. Taking home leftovers was NEVER an option for him, although some in service did steal. Mama said, "Your daddy wouldn't even take home a paper clip or military ballpoint pen!" That translated into telling the truth, owning our mistakes in little and big things. Integrity mattered.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today I salute and honor our American veterans in appreciation. Today I wish I could hug that one special vet and say, "Thank you, Daddy, for serving us, our nation and God."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Do you think they read blogs in heaven?</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-3809013923719771152016-08-07T21:22:00.000-04:002022-05-18T13:19:17.743-04:00PICTURES OF THE PAST<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-30114756476562465272016-07-02T10:37:00.000-04:002016-07-02T10:37:01.639-04:00A SHORT STORY<div style="font-family: arial, sans-serif;">
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<a href="http://www.crosswalkmail.com/vvkjvmfgjrjnfygtnkbzqndqfmnypbbyrhfqvvtfmmkrypf_mnqncqbbppcy.html" style="color: #0000cc;" target="_blank"><img alt="" border="0" /></a></div>
<i><a href="http://www.crosswalkmail.com/vvkjvmfgjrjnfygtnkbzqndqfmnypbbyrhfqvvtfmmkrypf_mnqncqbbppcy.html" style="color: #0000cc;" target="_blank"></a><a href="http://www.crosswalkmail.com/srksrlbksjstbpkdtcfhztwzbltpvffpjmbzrrdbllcjpvv_mnqncqbbppcy.html" style="color: #0000cc;" target="_blank"></a>My guest blogger today (though he doesn't know it) is one of my favorite writers telling one of my favorite stories.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
<strong>The Woodcutter's Wisdom </strong><br />
<em>by Max Lucado</em><br />
<em><br /></em>
Once there was an old man who lived in a tiny village. Although poor, he was envied by all, for he owned a beautiful white horse. Even the king coveted his treasure. A horse like this had never been seen before—such was its splendor, its majesty, its strength.<br />
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People offered fabulous prices for the steed, but the old man always refused. "This horse is not a horse to me," he would tell them. "It is a person. How could you sell a person? He is a friend, not a possession. How could you sell a friend?" The man was poor and the temptation was great. But he never sold the horse.<br />
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One morning he found that the horse was not in the stable. All the village came to see him. "You old fool," they scoffed, "we told you that someone would steal your horse. We warned you that you would be robbed. You are so poor. How could you ever hope to protect such a valuable animal? It would have been better to have sold him. You could have gotten whatever price you wanted. No amount would have been too high. Now the horse is gone, and you've been cursed with misfortune."<br />
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The old man responded, "Don't speak too quickly. Say only that the horse is not in the stable. That is all we know; the rest is judgment. If I've been cursed or not, how can you know? How can you judge?"<br />
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The people contested, "Don't make us out to be fools! We may not be philosophers, but great philosophy is not needed. The simple fact that your horse is gone is a curse."<br />
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The old man spoke again. "All I know is that the stable is empty, and the horse is gone. The rest I don't know. Whether it be a curse or a blessing, I can't say. All we can see is a fragment. Who can say what will come next?"<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-BnH8jx8hru96scAdI5FhGCBh0hC6ofPScyPTTqh7RoS1PIKCxr14pyf1lMDlP-3LgNhea89avu9rHZww3oGTb0X4uR4g0aDNGOKCEewj8gZNT0MLt_-loY0HcIjNXyGZkKzfR18F8E/s1600/Cornelius-Krieghoff-xx-The-Woodcutter-xx-Art-Gallery-of-Ontario.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH-BnH8jx8hru96scAdI5FhGCBh0hC6ofPScyPTTqh7RoS1PIKCxr14pyf1lMDlP-3LgNhea89avu9rHZww3oGTb0X4uR4g0aDNGOKCEewj8gZNT0MLt_-loY0HcIjNXyGZkKzfR18F8E/s1600/Cornelius-Krieghoff-xx-The-Woodcutter-xx-Art-Gallery-of-Ontario.jpg" width="262" /></a>The people of the village laughed. They thought that the man was crazy. They had always thought he was a fool; if he wasn't, he would have sold the horse and lived off the money. But instead, he was a poor woodcutter, an old man still cutting firewood and dragging it out of the forest and selling it. He lived hand to mouth in the misery of poverty. Now he had proven that he was, indeed, a fool.<br />
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After fifteen days, the horse returned. He hadn't been stolen; he had run away into the forest. Not only had he returned, he had brought a dozen wild horses with him. Once again the village people gathered around the woodcutter and spoke. "Old man, you were right and we were wrong. What we thought was a curse was a blessing. Please forgive us."<br />
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The man responded, "Once again, you go too far. Say only that the horse is back. State only that a dozen horses returned with him, but don't judge. How do you know if this is a blessing or not? You see only a fragment. Unless you know the whole story, how can you judge? You read only one page of a book. Can you judge the whole book? You read only one word of a phrase. Can you understand the entire phrase?<br />
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"Life is so vast, yet you judge all of life with one page or one word. All you have is a fragment! Don't say that this is a blessing. No one knows. I am content with what I know. I am not perturbed by what I don't."<br />
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"Maybe the old man is right," they said to one another. So they said little. But down deep, they knew he was wrong. They knew it was a blessing. Twelve wild horses had returned with one horse. With a little bit of work, the animals could be broken and trained and sold for much money.<br />
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The old man had a son, an only son. The young man began to break the wild horses. After a few days, he fell from one of the horses and broke both legs. Once again the villagers gathered around the old man and cast their judgments.<br />
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"You were right," they said. "You proved you were right. The dozen horses were not a blessing. They were a curse. Your only son has broken his legs, and now in your old age you have no one to help you. Now you are poorer than ever."<br />
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The old man spoke again. "You people are obsessed with judging. Don't go so far. Say only that my son broke his legs. Who knows if it is a blessing or a curse? No one knows. We only have a fragment. Life comes in fragments."<br />
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It so happened that a few weeks later the country engaged in war against a neighboring country. All the young men of the village were required to join the army. Only the son of the old man was excluded, because he was injured.<br />
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Once again the people gathered around the old man, crying and screaming because their sons had been taken. There was little chance that they would return. The enemy was strong, and the war would be a losing struggle. They would never see their sons again.<br />
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"You were right, old man," they wept. "God knows you were right. This proves it. Your son's accident was a blessing. His legs may be broken, but at least he is with you. Our sons are gone forever."<br />
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The old man spoke again. "It is impossible to talk with you. You always draw conclusions. No one knows. Say only this: Your sons had to go to war, and mine did not. No one knows if it is a blessing or a curse. No one is wise enough to know. Only God knows."<br />
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The old man was right. We only have a fragment. Life's mishaps and horrors are only a page out of a grand book. We must be slow about drawing conclusions. We must reserve judgment on life's storms until we know the whole story.<br />
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I don't know where the woodcutter learned his patience. Perhaps from another woodcutter in Galilee. For it was the Carpenter who said it best:<br />
"Do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself." (Matthew 6:34)<br />
<br />
He should know. He is the Author of our story. And he has already written the final chapter.<br />
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<div style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px;">
From<br />
<a href="http://www.crosswalkmail.com/xhgjvsdbjgjtdcbmtplqntkndstchllcgrdnvvmdsspgchj_mnqncqbbppcy.html" style="color: #23345f;" target="_blank"><em><strong>In the Eye of the Storm</strong></em></a><br />
Copyright (Thomas Nelson, 2001) Max Lucado</div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: "arial" , sans-serif;"><img height="0" width="0" /></span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-6031492759901572962016-05-19T12:39:00.002-04:002016-05-19T18:35:08.279-04:00ANNIVERSARY IN TEARS<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I came home crying last night after our 47th anniversary evening out. But let me back up and tell the story from our delicious meal at Victor's.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was getting dark but we decided to stop by Ross' where Doug dropped me off while he went into Starbucks for a couple of pounds of coffee. When he returned for me, I noticed a man in a heavy camouflage jacket bent over the trash can, searching for food. "Hon, let's pop into Hardees right here and get him something." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Doug rolled down the car window first and asked the man, "You hungry?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Yes sir."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Wait right here. We'll bring you some food."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Circling back with a big bag of food and a large drink, we found him waiting. This time I rolled down my window to hand it to him. What unfolded from there was not planned. Not by me at least.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"What's your name?"</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"David."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Handing him the food, I said, "May I pray for you?" He nodded. His dirty hand rested on my window casing. I touched his hand and he bowed his head too. "Dear Lord. You created David and know everything about him. Please let him know how much You love him. Show Him in ways he can feel. He's hungry so as this food fills his stomach, I pray You will fill his heart with Your love. He needs You in his heart and life. Bring him to You. Amen."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He quietly muttered, "Amen. Thank you."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then we noticed a car on Doug's side and a lady smiling from her open window, "Looks like we had the same idea." She held up two bags of food and another drink. David shuffled over to her car. I heard her say, "God bless you" as he took the food.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We pulled away then I said, "Doug, can you pull back? I need to tell him something." We did.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"David, what you just saw happen was an answer to the prayer moments ago. God IS loving you and showing you just how much."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He looked startled then dumb-founded. Covering his dirty coat now was arms full with 3 bags of food and 2 drinks. He juggled, trying to balance it all, looking down at all that food. Minutes before, he'd been rummaging in the garbage for scraps. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Tears in his eyes (and mine) he said, "Maybe I got someone else's food. Some of this might be theirs."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"No, David. There's no mix up. God used that lady to show you how much He loves you."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This time he looked up into the dark night and once again muttered, "Thank You."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I came home crying last night. I came home praying too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was a good anniversary.</span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-60191529107752171342015-12-03T12:17:00.000-05:002015-12-03T12:58:24.496-05:00A TALE OF TWO GRANDMOTHERS<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This true story is actually more about the granddaughter, but I needed a clever title. Meet one of our young people from church. This is Brittany Hood.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Stroll through Greenwood Baptist on a Sunday morning and you'll spot her first by that gorgeous, perpetual smile. She might be working in our children's ministry or sitting by her grandma, Jerry Hood. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That's where she gets her smile. Brittany told me, "I wouldn't know the Lord if it weren't for her. Did you know I'm also kin to Lucille Rushing?" Lucille, a charter member, is a hoot. I want to be like her when I grow up. Brittany confirmed that I already am. One thing I've learned is not to talk about anyone at our church. They're all kin to someone else there! Cures gossip.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Back to my tale. Her other grandmother, on her mom's side, didn't know Christ. As Brittany's life changed, she'd share what God was doing. Her "Gamma" (as she calls her) would simply reply, "Well, that's <i>your </i>God." She never referred to Him as <i>her </i>God. Darlene is Gamma's name.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Brittany's awareness of Darlene's spiritual need turned to deep concern in early September. Gamma fell, broke 2 legs and laid there for 12 hours, before someone discovered her. The next days were a whirl of medical crises eventually revealing sepsis. Gamma was in an induced comma. She was in Grand Strand Hospital at Myrtle Beach, about an hour from us and Brittany here in Florence.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"I asked my life group to pray for her to find Jesus," Brittany said. "I even talked to Pastor Johnny about my prayers for her. 'Pastor Johnny, since she's not a believer, is God hearing me?' " He assured her that because <i>she herself</i> was a believer, God heard her pleas.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She prayed, "Gamma's not a believer, Lord, and if she dies I'll never see her again. Lord, please wake her up. . .maybe on my birthday." September 26 two things happened. Brittany had a birthday and Gamma woke up!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"She even knew it was my birthday. She had past memories that were clear but was confused about things in the moment. The next day she was unconscious again," said Brittany. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then on Thursday, November 19, God again gave Darlene some conscious moments with her granddaughter. She seemed clear in her thinking. Brittany gathered her courage. "I didn't want to be offensive or insensitive to her suffering, but I had to share. I asked her, 'Do you know Jesus Christ as your Savior, Gamma?' "</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"No."</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Do you want to know Jesus as your Savior?"</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"Yes."</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMj89Q1P3XVtIk4g3FPcgRSAJ9fO3r8K3H34CLoX-m1ubyhp0n5yk3l40zItJCxFmtC6adRDpqoKzQj2o9wqwReFT76qL8ALhG99bNt5sau1k4fYr_0aleyHSWk8pPfiZL-6uXf6tyXFk/s1600/12278794_860542164065120_2298200131760374824_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMj89Q1P3XVtIk4g3FPcgRSAJ9fO3r8K3H34CLoX-m1ubyhp0n5yk3l40zItJCxFmtC6adRDpqoKzQj2o9wqwReFT76qL8ALhG99bNt5sau1k4fYr_0aleyHSWk8pPfiZL-6uXf6tyXFk/s640/12278794_860542164065120_2298200131760374824_n.jpg" width="352" /></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Uncertain of how, but determined, Brittany and Gamma prayed together for her salvation. But </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Brittany doubted herself, so she asked her pastor to please come by the hospital and confirm. He came and found Gamma awake. Her daughter, Aileen, was kissing her. Gamma said, "Quit kissing me and let the preacher do his job." </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Johnny and she talked about the conversation she'd just had with Brittany and there was no doubt that she received the Lord. She was sure. Brittany was assured. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He asked her if she understood. "Yes." </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">He asked if she had any questions. "No." </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> So Pastor Johnny </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">prayed then stepped out. He said to Brittany, "She put me on the spot to 'Do my job' but YOU'D already done it!"</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Joy exploded on earth and in heaven. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Brittany left the hospital at 9:15 that night full of peace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gamma fell asleep, then woke up the next day. . .IN HEAVEN!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3344269740753938677.post-44253632854235602032015-11-24T20:32:00.000-05:002015-11-24T20:38:09.094-05:00JAMES TURNS TWO<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Our youngest grandchild, James VanKesteren, was not expected to live. 77% of babies born with AVM (a vein malformation) die during birth. So as I boarded a plane to Canada two years ago, I was praying for a birth but knew it may be a death. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Read more about his birth here. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;"><a href="http://kathyhenderson.blogspot.com/2013/12/unto-us-son-is-given.html">http://kathyhenderson.</a></span></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://kathyhenderson.blogspot.com/2013/12/unto-us-son-is-given.html"><span style="color: blue; font-size: x-small;">blogspot.com/2013/12/unto-us-son-is-given.html</span></a></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA6b9bcFkL6Jr3B9q9eAhPSizFeEk_FMZP-T6OaiKzSQsDFvaLoUW_vTycm-xgvsYjHjuATrB-FsJfMeX7GcB1zCaUt5CZWb9P6HbH5i4UdV7f6VJyLzTel5du2h2KjvD-4Yu5jxV_9Vg/s1600/1459198_10202608108432798_852714349_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiA6b9bcFkL6Jr3B9q9eAhPSizFeEk_FMZP-T6OaiKzSQsDFvaLoUW_vTycm-xgvsYjHjuATrB-FsJfMeX7GcB1zCaUt5CZWb9P6HbH5i4UdV7f6VJyLzTel5du2h2KjvD-4Yu5jxV_9Vg/s400/1459198_10202608108432798_852714349_n.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Then</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Tomorrow James turns two! Yesterday he went back for a check-up to Toronto's Sick Kids' Hospital. The whole neuro team gathered to witness their miracle baby, now a toddling toddler. It was basically James' graduation. Parents and medical team beamed together. "I don't think we'll ever need to do anything for James now. His brain looks fine! Just come back in a year for an MRI," the doctor said.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So Thanksgiving has a special meaning to our family. Not that we haven't had trials since James'. His Dad, Dave, defied medical odds this year by surviving an ear infection that leached to his brain. Meningitis is deadly too. Then more recently James' big brother, Caleb, had a seizure. He's doing fine now too. None of the 3 stem from the same thing. But in every case, God was in the details. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Read more evidence of His hand on us here. </span><br />
<a href="http://kathyhenderson.blogspot.com/2013/12/god-is-in-details.html"><span style="color: blue;">http://kathyhenderson.blogspot.com/2013/12/god-is-in-details.html</span></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Now. . .with birthday cupcake all over his sweet face!</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Looking back, our faith in God was strengthened. "The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But today we are THANKFUL that He GAVE! LIFE. . .His and theirs! </span><br />
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Kathyhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07775164916906503406noreply@blogger.com0