tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-41742906901670738822024-03-12T17:45:55.352-07:00My Little CornerMy Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.comBlogger158125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-45322605072523222642024-02-28T12:04:00.000-08:002024-02-28T12:04:48.293-08:00Rest, Writing, and Thoughts About Aging<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdbgynsOhWX_5o5YPwYzBu4g-AfwJbzyxZ6mT2bhjqP_Xm-sxpPHs33qRew43kL9xm70o5luWpNNPZG7rQ-zARe9TfcSGAGH0d9wyjBFLOWj50x3qIOjlIu5Z7MRbnBaxDeiQ2K7aveIxBWHBaIw54xryd-crFhJ75UhYDZgCOIN5zQEdqvZ4DO_htFqr/s1600/Resized_Resized_20240224_152108_1708806092338_1708806094281.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="738" data-original-width="1600" height="148" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdbgynsOhWX_5o5YPwYzBu4g-AfwJbzyxZ6mT2bhjqP_Xm-sxpPHs33qRew43kL9xm70o5luWpNNPZG7rQ-zARe9TfcSGAGH0d9wyjBFLOWj50x3qIOjlIu5Z7MRbnBaxDeiQ2K7aveIxBWHBaIw54xryd-crFhJ75UhYDZgCOIN5zQEdqvZ4DO_htFqr/s320/Resized_Resized_20240224_152108_1708806092338_1708806094281.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><span>A recent afternoon spent at The Cove, in Asheville, North Carolina was</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> nearly perfect. Is there such a thing as perfection? There is, but not in human form. This came mighty close.</span></span><p></p><span style="font-size: medium;"><style class="WebKit-mso-list-quirks-style">
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</style></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I’m referring to an afternoon of rest, writing, conversations with friends, and a roaring fire. This doesn’t happen often, but when it does, you stop and take notice. My life is full and fully lived, a fete difficult to achieve. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Growing older is not for the faint of heart, yet it’s also allowed me the opportunity to seize these moments and treasure them. Everyone needs time away for deep thoughts, uninterrupted time with God, and time to ponder life. I’ve been able to reflect on these things and have a few thoughts for those in my stage of life:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-size: medium; line-height: 18.4px;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">1.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Enjoy every day; the sun rises and sets the same for everyone. Make sure you spend your time doing something you love.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">2.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Stop and play with the grands, they’ll grow too fast and you’ll regret time not spent with them. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">3.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Surround yourself with music. There’s a tune for every mood. Allow yourself walks down memory lane with your favorite oldies.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">4.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Never stop learning. Knowledge is as close as your fingertips, and there’s a subject for everyone.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">5.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Begin a new hobby, or hone the skills on a hobby you’ve enjoyed in the past.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">6.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Nourish your friendships. Make time for those you love through scheduled dates; Lunch, coffee, a visit to a local garden, etc.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">7.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Celebrate big. Every birthday, anniversary, and holiday is an opportunity to make memories. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">8.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Invest in a good study Bible, and use it. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">9.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Eat well, and exercise in whatever way your body can endure. Moving keeps you young. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">10.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Serve others. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">11.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Establish a routine that allows you to nourish your soul, body, and mind. Prioritize important things first in your day.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman";">12.<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-feature-settings: normal; font-kerning: auto; font-optical-sizing: auto; font-size-adjust: none; font-size: 7pt; font-stretch: normal; font-style: normal; font-variant-alternates: normal; font-variant-caps: normal; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-ligatures: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal; font-variant-position: normal; font-variation-settings: normal; line-height: normal;"> </span></span><!--[endif]--><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Read, read, and read some more.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="line-height: 115%; mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -0.25in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I am thankful and blessed to reach this stage of life. Only God knows the truth of this statement. He is my rock, my strength, and the song that I sing, and without Him, I am a weak, frightened little girl. He is the lifter of my head, and healer of my soul. To Him be all praise, now and forever.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-33704887537984847532024-02-24T11:10:00.000-08:002024-02-24T11:10:12.629-08:00On This Mountain<p>I don't normally post my poetry, but this one inspired me while visiting The Cove this weekend in Asheville, NC. There's something extra special about this place, and the words flowed. </p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">On this mountain, a place of peace and<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">respite lies deep in the forest. A place of<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">comfort with fireplaces and cozy furniture<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">arranged in a homey atmosphere. A place to<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">communicate with my Creator without<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">distractions. A place of quiet contemplation<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">to hear the still, small voice of Yahweh, peace <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">in the midst of the raging storm that <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">awaits in the valley.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Ancient forest displays mighty oaks, tall pines, <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">strong cedars, and native rhododendrons, whose<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">lily-white leaves dot the mountainside in spring.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Trickling brook snakes its way to the creek over<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">worn rocks. Deer, turkeys, squirrels, and the local<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">bears sip from the cold mountain stream.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">You walk among us on the mountain. Words of<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">encouragement, exhortation, and instruction flow<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">freely. May these words cover me as a warm<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">blanket, may they seep into the broken places and <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">bind my wounds.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">Your Word is better than life, and on this mountain<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;">I am alive.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Calibri, sans-serif; line-height: 18.4px; margin: 0in;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif;"> </span></p><p><br /></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-83703587067586243512022-10-13T06:28:00.000-07:002022-10-13T06:28:56.516-07:00Saying Yes To Mentoring<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’ve been participating in a women’s mentoring ministry through my church for the last nine months. My mentoring partner, Katy, and I have five lovely ladies we meet with as a group. Our goal is to meet once per month, but with seven schedules to coordinate, it’s nearly impossible, but we’ve still managed to get together. We also meet one on one, sharing life’s ups and downs and everything in between.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSgl6KX09TrtKUeRPV0Dne3HWAQROhwIq5r87eX969gNaOGYjuJFI9FVucmuV3JcvMAU9BUgQ-r8D3lzmhnuPVOgCUYBVHico8x-TsDKQvsqpmuOJ4KdW77o3do3_qWnNYJma_4r4A3K1IJ1ucLAshHpNlrQVg1TvjbzNepf4zmJt5fRdetJ1FXfQSA/s4032/p0oVS0oFSdSa6hjZGfI%25Qg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4032" data-original-width="3024" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuSgl6KX09TrtKUeRPV0Dne3HWAQROhwIq5r87eX969gNaOGYjuJFI9FVucmuV3JcvMAU9BUgQ-r8D3lzmhnuPVOgCUYBVHico8x-TsDKQvsqpmuOJ4KdW77o3do3_qWnNYJma_4r4A3K1IJ1ucLAshHpNlrQVg1TvjbzNepf4zmJt5fRdetJ1FXfQSA/w300-h400/p0oVS0oFSdSa6hjZGfI%25Qg.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">As we’re nearing the completion of our time together, I’ve been reflecting on my role as a mentor, a friend, an older lady. Just writing those words feels weird. I don’t see myself as older, yet the calendar tells me otherwise. The mirror does too, but I like soft lighting, and long narrow mirrors from a distance. In all seriousness though, it’s a privilege and gift to grow older. Not everyone has the opportunity to pour themselves into another person because of age, experience, and spiritual depth. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The devotional I’m reading through this year centered on Moses’ beginning and ending of his ministry. When God called him to lead the Israelites out of Egypt, he challenged God’s request. His response was, “Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh and bring the Israelites out of Egypt?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">God responded with, “I will be with you.” <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Moses continued to question God by saying, “What if they do not believe me or listen to me…?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">You know the rest of the story. Hollywood even recognized the importance of Moses’ eventual obedience. He led God’s people to freedom, with his brother Aaron, and sister Miriam by his side. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Moses’ testimony at the end of his life is very different from the one he began with: <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Then Moses summons Joshua and said to him in the presence of all Israel, “Be strong and courageous, for you must go with this people into he land that the Lord swore to their forefathers to give them, and you must divide it among them as their inheritance. The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.” </span></i></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <br /> Deuteronomy 31:7-8<o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’d never identified with Moses, until now. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The role of mentor involves many things, but the one I love the most is reminding these precious ones that God goes before them, and will never leave them. I love encouraging them, listening to the details of their lives, and sharing how God has shown himself faithful to me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Moses’ life was coming to an end and he wanted to impart the wisdom he’d gained after following and obeying God for forty years. I can’t think of a better way to end one’s life than sharing the goodness of God to the next generation. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sharing the joy and heartache of your life might be the very thing someone needs to hear to know they’re not alone. You could be a Moses to someone when you remind him or her to not be afraid or discouraged. I’m glad someone did that for me.<o:p></o:p></span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-77653097823719252332022-08-10T03:31:00.000-07:002022-08-10T03:31:00.581-07:00Choose Joy<p><br /> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I was listening to a podcast this week while walking, taking a break from audio books. I must encourage you to listen to anything Sally Clarkson writes or records. She comes from a Christian perspective, and particularly ministers to women of every age. Her voice of wisdom is like water for thirsty ground.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">One of the topics recently was living with joy. I was captivated by her words of encouragement and truth. How do we choose joy when life has dealt us one blow after another? How do we rise to the level of trust in our God when the worst has happened?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Not a single one of us has escaped tragedy of some sort. You’re either coming out of a trial, entering a trial, or are firmly established in a trial. Personal relationships are usually found at the center of our deepest woes, but also financial worries, cultural and political wars, and health issues. The great equalizer of the human condition is that none of us are spared trouble. So how do we respond as believers in a faithful God?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">If you’ve lived long enough, you can testify to the fact that nothing stays the same. As I reflect on my 60+ years, I know that life has balance and rhythm. The very thing that tore me apart twenty years ago is insignificant today, and yet it shaped me into the person I am now. Does that mean I chose joy every time? No, it does not. It’s taken a lifetime to recognize the beauty of choosing joy when my world is falling apart.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUUesFJHsQh_HOTXl3B5it8cFqypt5LDZ1bZNYr7yvnHHxsb9-vS-kMlJ3nOXQrhV8N4jML4LAUBWDKD2iPITAxC62uhGYe7olP0iaFBYJWQzaSD_ZXlu5kBFTNpfQMwLPqZUReY8akqopCugxtEWzLfRiyzZqIwwdwNzy8rlnW7MeLafAC_xHBYROeQ/s480/IMG_0351.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="480" data-original-width="480" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUUesFJHsQh_HOTXl3B5it8cFqypt5LDZ1bZNYr7yvnHHxsb9-vS-kMlJ3nOXQrhV8N4jML4LAUBWDKD2iPITAxC62uhGYe7olP0iaFBYJWQzaSD_ZXlu5kBFTNpfQMwLPqZUReY8akqopCugxtEWzLfRiyzZqIwwdwNzy8rlnW7MeLafAC_xHBYROeQ/s320/IMG_0351.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We all have ongoing pain from a multitude of sources. How we respond makes an impact on our total person, but it also has an affect on those around us. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">There are cliché sayings, some even evoke eye-rolls, but when you truly grasp the meaning behind the familiar words, nuggets of truth emerge.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt;">“God won’t give us anything we can’t handle.”</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">There are many things I can’t handle, but because I am never alone, His Spirit lives within me, I can truly say there’s nothing I can’t handle. That doesn’t mean it won’t hurt, but it means I can choose to trust the One who walks with me, guiding me in the path I should go. Choosing joy allows me to move forward in trust.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“When the cares of my heart are many,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">your consolations cheer my soul.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Psalm 94:19 ESV<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt;">“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">This one is actually true, and you know what I’m talking about. There’s something miraculous about surviving a trial that had the power to take you out. Choosing joy in this situation looks a lot like praising Him in the storm.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“You are a hiding place for me;<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">you preserve me from trouble;<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">you surround me with shouts of deliverance.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Psalm 32:7 ESV<o:p></o:p></span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt;">“There’s beauty in the broken.” <o:p></o:p></span></i></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">This one I know deep in my heart. Unless we are broken, we cannot help someone else. Have you ever thought God allowed your difficult situation so you could offer joy, compassion, and understanding to another person? If we don’t show the world how to relate to people in kindness and love, how can we expect them to follow the God we love? When we respond with apathy, selfishness, and pride, we lose the voice we have in a world filled with hatred.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Power of Christ may rest on me.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">2 Corinthians 12:9 ESV<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">My challenge to us all is to choose how you will respond to any given situation, before it happens. Our emotions have the ability to send us down a painful path when we react before thinking. Choose to be grateful for the little things when the big things threaten to tear you apart. Choose to forgive, even when you’ve been wronged, and the other person withholds forgiveness. Choose to love the unlovable. Period. Choose to allow the other person to cut in front of you in traffic. (I need to work on this one.) Choose to allow nature to minister to your brokenness. A walk in your neighborhood, a beautiful garden, or a woodsy path may be just the thing to help you shake off moodiness, or despair. Find the thing that brings you joy and make it a regular activity. Our creator gave us a multitude of beauty to surround ourselves with. It probably won’t solve our problems overnight, but choosing joy gives us the frame of mind to live with a grateful heart.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I don’t have all the answers, but I know the One who does. Going through many trials, I learned to trust the Word of God. It literally saved my life, and gave me joy. That, my friends, is something I’ll never tire of speaking about. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt;"> </span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-3062536752237696672022-06-24T04:21:00.001-07:002022-06-24T05:58:49.421-07:00The Power of Words<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I have a secret to tell you–I am a hoarder of words. Words are my love language, the icing on the cake, and the pot at the end of the rainbow. Words bring me comfort when I’m sad, joy when I’m bored or lonely, and encouragement when life is hard.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Five years ago, we sold our house of nearly twenty years, and downsized to a farmhouse in the country. Due to lack of space, as well as time to pore through boxes, I stored all the memorabilia from the last thirty-five years in a storage building at my husband’s office. The time of reckoning arrived and all the containers found their way to our garage.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">One by one I sifted through boxes of cards, letters, invitations, announcements, and other keepsakes. If you sent us a graduation announcement, wedding invitation, or thank you note in the last thirty years, it was there. If you gave me a birthday card or get well card, they were there. If you sent a note saying you were praying for me, it was there. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I spent time walking down memory lane revisiting old and dear friendships through the written word. Friends that I haven’t thought of in years were brought to mind, treasured stories of my past rekindled. Many times my eyes misted when remembering those who have since passed into eternity. Those correspondences are even more precious than when they first arrived by hand or mail. I was reminded of God’s goodness to me and my family over and over.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The written word is a powerful thing, and shouldn’t be taken for granted. Without the written word, history is only as close as the memory of fragile and forgetful humans. We’d have no way of knowing the origin of man, previous civilizations, or the statistics of our favorite sports heroes. Obviously, there are many other things we’d have no clue about without the written account of their happening.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Back to my boxes…my husband says I live in the past. I disagree. I spent hours and hours sorting through evidence of a life engaged with people. We all know that life can be hard and discouraging at times. Sometimes we only remember the things that happen within a short time, and if we’re not careful, one bad thing has the power to overshadow ten good things. Rereading cards and letters brought perspective, and reminded me of how much I’m loved. Those words still have the power they held when originally sent. And in a world where bad news, angry words, and untruths bombard our minds and heart, the gentle and loving words of family and friends also has the power to heal and encourage.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt;">Gracious words are like a honeycomb,<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; font-size: 14pt;">sweetness to the soul and health to the body.<o:p></o:p></span></i></p><p align="center" class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Proverbs 16:24 ESV<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Write that note in your own handwriting, send a card when you hear of someone suffering pain or loss, and let your words become part of his or her history. <o:p></o:p></span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-19838946584338397822022-05-05T06:53:00.000-07:002022-05-05T06:53:52.777-07:00Dear Mom<p><br /> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Dear Mom,</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">It’s been a long time since we breathed the same air; too many years, yet the life you lived continues to provide me with sustenance. Thank you for giving me life, and teaching me how to live.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for exemplifying joy in all things, and for the gift of appreciating the simple things.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAGdLy4iF3v_7fUTJIaZHxjuujy1rm94tNGYQ1UFeKmILs_-zE86O7HLm9Jgr-aQwl2JFZkM89z6rNn7W2RbJb9Suxbt9Cii4AzSGNOuLoPJ22ynceLOR2Gf0zPzMtlQokqJE5AOvEVZTB900tgsU6dLQQqnf3DUMy8jb2NO_keMutONsS121pV_dUA/s580/IMG_3060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="580" data-original-width="340" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuAGdLy4iF3v_7fUTJIaZHxjuujy1rm94tNGYQ1UFeKmILs_-zE86O7HLm9Jgr-aQwl2JFZkM89z6rNn7W2RbJb9Suxbt9Cii4AzSGNOuLoPJ22ynceLOR2Gf0zPzMtlQokqJE5AOvEVZTB900tgsU6dLQQqnf3DUMy8jb2NO_keMutONsS121pV_dUA/w235-h400/IMG_3060.jpg" width="235" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for teaching me the importance of family, and how to extend unconditional love that reaches the wayward soul.<o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for showing me who Jesus was to you, and for living a faith-filled life in front of me.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for protecting me from harsh realities, allowing time for me to process truth.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for teaching me how to love. Because I lost you when I was so young, I have an overwhelming desire to be present for my family. No sacrifice is too great, no mountain too high, no valley too low. My greatest treasures are not things, but the ones God gave me. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for teaching me how to die. Your courage and determination are still alive in my memories. Philippians 4:13, your favorite Bible verse, <i>“I can do all things</i> <i>through Christ who strengthens me,”</i> gave you courage to die, knowing Who was waiting on the other side of the veil. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Thank you for being my mom, fifteen short years on earth, forever in eternity. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">You were a gift to our family; God’s choice for me. You are missed especially on Mother’s Day and Christmas, but also in the everyday moments of life. Memories of you are treasured in the depths of my heart.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-73646403264696803272022-01-21T04:39:00.000-08:002022-01-21T04:39:53.587-08:00My Word for 2022<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: left;">Here we are flying toward the end of January already and I haven’t shared this post. In less than three weeks I’ve had eye surgery, a new grandson born, and my husband and I are both getting over Covid. Welcome to 2022. It’s all good though, just a little delayed in celebrating Levi’s birth in person. And if there’s ever a good time for my word, I’d say it’s now. </span></div><p></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHQdJF9izNSPG686KC7KUov7uDFK7R3CX0j6ouOnuyqT47HXrLmKlkOf6hZFUfv_Q6GqdiILUsiUcSAUNrdGW_QUc8_2idRMXTJJJ24faAlY1v6tW7eKaoYj9rE92jej4GDcTqQ372s7HQqNGg1PkAakugcUXNdifkK4QFM9fFVqK2oqRcucIlc700kQ=s1555" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1555" data-original-width="1237" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhHQdJF9izNSPG686KC7KUov7uDFK7R3CX0j6ouOnuyqT47HXrLmKlkOf6hZFUfv_Q6GqdiILUsiUcSAUNrdGW_QUc8_2idRMXTJJJ24faAlY1v6tW7eKaoYj9rE92jej4GDcTqQ372s7HQqNGg1PkAakugcUXNdifkK4QFM9fFVqK2oqRcucIlc700kQ=s320" width="255" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">In years past I’ve chosen a word for the year; a word to motivate, encourage, and teach me something needed or desired. As the new year has made its way into the world, and I’ve had time to ponder after the busyness of the holidays, the word “prayer” has appeared over and over. It doesn’t take rocket science to know this is my word. I could choose this word every year and never go wrong.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Prayer is one of those topics we shy away from. How to pray, when to pray, are we doing it right, do our prayers really get heard by the Almighty? The call to pray is clear and scattered throughout the Bible. So why don’t we pray, or why do we make it so hard?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Maybe I’m the only one who feels this way, but I don’t think so. I consider myself a person who prays, a prayer warrior, most of the time. However, I often feel inadequate. Am I missing something big, do I remember to pray for all the requests I agree to pray about? <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I want to deepen my prayer life in 2022. I want to be more consistent in sharing with God before I share with my family or friends. I want to learn to hear His still, small voice in the chaos of life, as well as in the planned, quiet moments of the early morning hours when it’s just me and the God who loves me best. I want to discern His voice above all others. And prayer is the avenue for that growth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I look forward to this year of prayer and all the ways I hope to grow in the next 344 days. I’ll keep you posted. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Any </span><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">thoughts or suggestions are welcome.</span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-39833224241764810652022-01-03T05:39:00.000-08:002022-01-03T05:39:09.046-08:002022, We're Ready For You<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Here we are, 2022; and there you are, waiting for us with your blank pages: A new year to love and serve those in our sphere of influence, a new year to dream and create, a new year to grow into the people God intended us to be.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I get excited for a new year. Maybe I’m nerdy, but I love cracking open a new planner, making lists, and beginning fresh again. We all need a reset sometimes, so why not on January 1<sup>st</sup>?<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">There are plenty of words out there about reflecting on the past year—what worked, and what didn’t, how to simplify, how to organize, how to be more productive, or how to best use our time. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all about asking the personal questions of myself. I want to make the most of every day. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">There’s something poignant about the passing of time, the realization that it doesn’t stand still, and the days are fleeting. Now that I have grandchildren, I feel this even more keenly. I want to be here for them, experience their growing up years, and pour all my love into them.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">This passage in a book I’m reading titled <i>The</i> <i>Women of the Bible Speak,</i> expresses how I feel about my purpose and the reason I set particular goals:<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">“We sometimes think the size of our audience is in direct proportion to the impact we can have, but Mary (Jesus’ mother) didn’t run to the town square. She started within her own family circle, and that’s often our most important congregation, the people we love, those closest to us, because they get an up-close look at our faith and how we choose to live it in the most practical ways.”</span></i></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><o:p></o:p><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIInwTxxGizmzMVThRrP7A8XeT_TvENBVCINH4BacdUdAyBZkcC4FdVJnNoYJf_7fVD-urtd9chfyVmyhkK_k1f3fILmHiUc8-HK7DPq9yL_AOgwIhLsM5-K6cZ7hBETGoiGjJeVfYAQMIhEGmx9V5iMwJVDElGlbyVGlb9xZb_peKi45obDOfFJuEYw=s960" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="906" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIInwTxxGizmzMVThRrP7A8XeT_TvENBVCINH4BacdUdAyBZkcC4FdVJnNoYJf_7fVD-urtd9chfyVmyhkK_k1f3fILmHiUc8-HK7DPq9yL_AOgwIhLsM5-K6cZ7hBETGoiGjJeVfYAQMIhEGmx9V5iMwJVDElGlbyVGlb9xZb_peKi45obDOfFJuEYw=s320" width="302" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My greatest blessings of 2021</td></tr></tbody></table></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Some version of these words has been uttered millions of times, and yet, their importance isn’t diminished. Some people have grand visions of affecting the masses, grasping fame and fortune, and there’s nothing wrong with that. However, if you’re someone like me, who has the desire to live simply, love deeply, and serve your people, then do it. Own your calling and live it out with grace and joy. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">It’s taken me a lifetime to recognize the beauty of serving a small circle of people. My time is just as important as the next person’s, and I value planning in such a way that I can do “all the things,” and do them well. So yes, I will reflect on the past year, make lists of what I’d like to accomplish this year, and focus on the best way to get there. I’ll dream big of writing more, spending more time with friends and family, and hopefully, traveling more.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">So 2022, I’m excited about all the possibilities and opportunities you will bring. Give me grace, Lord, to adjust to the happenings of the year as they unfold. Help me share from the bounty of life that I’ve survived and flourished in, though it hasn’t been easy. Give me a heart of love for all those that cross my path, especially my circle of family, and may you be glorified in all of it.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0 0 0 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="background-color: #9fc5e8; font-family: "Times New Roman";"><span style="font-size: x-large;">Baby Levi coming January 2022!</span></span></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-25384163560957959542021-06-17T04:16:00.000-07:002021-06-17T04:16:45.381-07:00Aging With Grace<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">I wrote this last year, but for some reason, didn't publish. A pandemic, possibly? For whatever reason, here it is. Maybe someone needs to be told that you are enough at whatever age you are presently. I think most women struggle with aging, and yet, these are wonderful years. The joy of watching my children flourish, find their forever mate, and make their way in the world is priceless. Spending quality time with my husband, treasured. I'm not changing any of the wording, even though it's a year later. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><br /></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">I began a new decade with my last birthday. Writing those words takes my breath, and yet I’m thankful to be among the living. What is it about a number that causes us to flinch and cower, and offer apologies for how we look and feel? The Bible says, “… <i>long life is a</i> <i>reward for the righteous</i>.” It also says, “<i>He numbers our days and writes them in His book before we ever take a breath.”<o:p></o:p></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">My perspective on life is influenced by Biblical principles, and faith in the One true God. I must view everything through that lens if I want peace and abundant joy. The world has its opinion and seeks to speak words into my life that don’t line up with my beliefs. The same is true of you, but you must decide who you give access to your thoughts and emotions.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my mom, 1960</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Because of my faith, I want to exemplify the kind of woman that sees the glass not only half full, but running over. This kind of woman exudes joy and peace, and I believe she only grows into her own skin by living a Christ centered life, and being comfortable with who God made her to be.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">September, 2019</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">What does it mean to age gracefully, living in the light of more years before, than years remaining on the calendar? When does the focus morph into vanity, as opposed to healthy living? And what does the phrase, “fifty is the new thirty,” really mean?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">There's a story between the day of my birth and the span of sixty years until now. Society, and our beliefs shape the way we react to the events in the interim years. I don't want to look back as I lie on my deathbed and regret time wasted. The lines around my eyes are from laughter, just as much as the lines between my eyes a result of stress. Each line means I'm still here, and there's still purpose for me. My mom lived only thirty-eight years, yet her life was full. </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Through her death she taught me that we are not promised tomorrow. I've already lived more than </span><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">thirty years longer than she. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">This is my year of exploring what it means to age with grace, grow in wisdom and knowledge, and discover the path of sensible living. A dear friend remarked recently that he wants to finish strong, a goal of mine as well. I hope you will join me in this journey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-11458047710459849452021-06-04T05:23:00.008-07:002021-06-04T05:52:58.462-07:00So Many Books, Too Little Time<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />Summertime is quickly approaching, and with it books waiting to be read. Every day is my favorite for reading, but the summer months seem to scream for a good book. There are several great bookish podcasts, and Instagram accounts for finding your next good read, but I wanted to share a few of mine.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’ve been trying to read classics on a regular basis for the last couple of years. I don’t know why I missed these great books when I was in school, but unfortunately, I have no recollection of most of the ones I’ve enjoyed recently.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><span></span></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px; text-align: left;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"></p></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">If you’re like me, and want to know the answer to that</span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Jeopardy</i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> question, don’t be intimidated by the vernacular of the classics. I’ve found audio books to be helpful in understanding the language and time period.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>Listed in order of my favorites:</u><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5MPP4mWXICP0kli-DrRRT0jCKUxrg0myVAa_1BPR4fT1tQgfy-jYcYN8ZoHKMNnIgJWT7L09_achZkwdsk7iBumHOjTiR2hJ9Lybd9gEJYEb-gkjTYZVflnbLCkjjRvFjMJ7FgulrHG2/s559/IMG_5948.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="559" data-original-width="383" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr5MPP4mWXICP0kli-DrRRT0jCKUxrg0myVAa_1BPR4fT1tQgfy-jYcYN8ZoHKMNnIgJWT7L09_achZkwdsk7iBumHOjTiR2hJ9Lybd9gEJYEb-gkjTYZVflnbLCkjjRvFjMJ7FgulrHG2/s320/IMG_5948.JPG" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Jane Eyre</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Charlotte Bronte (Loved this book so much) <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Emma</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Jane Austen<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anne of Green Gables</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Lucy Maud Montgomery<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Anna Karenina</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Leo Tolstoy <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Travels with Charley in Search of America</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by John Steinbeck<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Of Mice and Men</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by John Steinbeck (Made me sad)<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I’m listening to </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Middlemarch</i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> by George Eliot at the present time. It’s a ginormous book, and I’m about half way through 35 hours of listening time. I’m enjoying it so far, but there are lots of characters to keep up with. I started </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Doctor Zhivago</i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> by Boris Pasternak, but am having difficulty staying focused. It probably wasn’t a good idea to tackle two heavy books at the same time. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">I'm also reading </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Women</i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> of </span><i style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">the Bible Speak</i><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> by Shannon Bream. The myth existing in our culture that Jesus doesn't care about women simply <o:p></o:p>isn't true. God placed many women in places of extraordinary circumstances, and worked through them to unfold His plan for redemption.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>Authors I Recommend:</u><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Wendell Berry – I haven’t read a book of his I didn’t like, and he’s written many books. His poetry is also wonderful.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rick Bragg – An Alabama native, Rick is a great writer of the southern way of living. If you grew up south of the Mason-Dixon line, you will relate.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Sean Dietrich – A writer in the same vein as Bragg, you will enjoy his keen sense of humor, and honest way of sharing the hard stuff.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Rosamunde Pilcher – A wonderful English lady who knows how to weave a multi-generational story that you never want to end. Her books transport you to the shores of England and leave you wanting to live there.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><u>Books I Would Read Again:</u><o:p></o:p></span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><b><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></b></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Remember</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Lisa Genova - Excellent book about memory<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Quotidian Mysteries</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Kathleen Norris – A thin book about the importance of the ordinary things of life. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We Were the Lucky Ones</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Georgia Hunter – WWII story of a Jewish family who survive, despite unusual odds.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Hannah Coulter</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Wendell Berry – I listened to this on audio, and then ordered the book. I wanted it in my hands and in my library.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Doing Life With Your Adult Children</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Jim Burns – The title says it all.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Code Name Helene</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Ariel Lawhon – The true story of an extraordinary woman during WWII.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Searching for Certainty</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Shelly Miller – So, so good. Sadly, Shelly died in 2020. Her presence is gone, but she left her words behind, every sentence a gift.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Red Sea Rules</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Robert J. Morgan – A small book packed with biblical truth.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The Joy of Poetry</span></i><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> by Megan Willome – I can’t say enough good things about this book. If you love poetry, read this book.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">That’s it for now. Happy reading during these hot, summer months. Please comment on books you can’t put down. I’d love to hear your recommendations.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><br /><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-76518103883507596392021-02-05T05:11:00.001-08:002021-02-05T05:11:16.316-08:00Sunday Dinner in the South<p><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br />There are many things I love about the south, but one of my favorites revolves around the tradition of weekly family meals. The most common is Sunday lunch after attending worship services together. Until Covid-19 crashed into our world, my family visited various local eateries. The question wasn’t if we were going to eat together, it was where are we going to eat? Sunday lunches were a time to reconnect after the busyness of life; a time to share the important moments, and not so important moments. After lunch we</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">went our separate ways, with our goal of a nap and a long walk.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">And then everything changed in March 2020. Countless words have been written, and will continue to be written, until we define what the last year meant to us as a culture. Our lives suddenly shrank into the walls of our homes, and the safety of our vehicles. Going to the grocery store, the gym, worship services, and even our jobs became dangerous for our health. Fear settled over us like a wet blanket, and dictated how we communicate to our neighbors, families, and co-workers. Panic screamed through social media that we’ve all become accustomed to, and the national media fed our fears and starved common sense.<o:p></o:p></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRT3laXn9AOtNvci7k_olCBdXojgi8-PQ4SlbW-lwPdO-Y4zWQRSPwWXrAZPF6UPMJMF0oO4YXRXs375hikuwXmWEpUV5vNTQSrJ1eLhK0UOvMNVIAHeN0RdJjMzr8VlBDf5B9l7wncNjR/s760/Why+eating+together+is+so+important+-+A+FEW+LOVELY+THINGS.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="512" data-original-width="760" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRT3laXn9AOtNvci7k_olCBdXojgi8-PQ4SlbW-lwPdO-Y4zWQRSPwWXrAZPF6UPMJMF0oO4YXRXs375hikuwXmWEpUV5vNTQSrJ1eLhK0UOvMNVIAHeN0RdJjMzr8VlBDf5B9l7wncNjR/w320-h216/Why+eating+together+is+so+important+-+A+FEW+LOVELY+THINGS.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Back on the home front, children still needed schooled, fed, loved and nurtured. The need for income didn’t lesson because of a worldwide pandemic. Each family had to decide what worked for them; how they would navigate the new constraints issued by local and state governments. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Food was common ground for all of us. It became nourishment, comfort, and for some, an outlet to educate and entertain. I spent untold hours watching Brenda Gantt of Andalusia, Alabama, teach how to make perfect biscuits, and on Sunday mornings she cooked lunch from her kitchen for her family before logging into her worship service. What a delight she was with encouragement in the spiritual life as well as our physical need for food.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">My family continued to gather on Sundays, but instead of meeting at a restaurant after church, they came to our home. The menu varied from baked salmon, grilled chicken, smoked pork loin, steak, spaghetti, and lasagna, with many different sides and salads. This time together became sacred. No one was in a hurry to leave after we finished eating. We spent time on the porch, swimming in the lake, and coloring at the dining room table when it was too hot to be outside. My son, Andy, brought Morgan to lunch at the end of March, and now she is my daughter-in-law. Our Sundays became a sweet time of bonding as we got to know her and shared family traditions that each of us grew up with. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Food is as individual as the person eating. Many of our conversations revolved around our favorite foods including childhood likes and dislikes. The problems and stresses of living through a pandemic seemed far away on Sundays. Laughter and family stories replaced the sound of television and dreary newscasts. After the kids left each week we sat in the glow of treasured time. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">This past year has been trying at times, desperate at other times, but I can’t say I would change anything. The end result was worth every mask, and every panic buy at Sam’s. As for cooking on the internet, there are wonderful cooks out there teaching us how to feed our families home cooked meals, served around the table with real dishes. Traditions are being passed down that remind us of the importance of the family and the many values taught while sitting around the dinner table. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">P.S. After I wrote this post, Diane Leary, a much-loved woman I go to church with is sharing her cooking skills on Facebook. You can find her at MeMe’s Recipes. Like and follow her for delicious recipes and helpful cooking tips.<o:p></o:p></span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-20528818245923089982021-01-21T06:04:00.003-08:002021-01-21T07:00:22.337-08:00A Year in Review<p> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">A New Year message with its sentimental clichés didn’t seem appropriate. With all the confusion and unrest, it seemed a better idea to celebrate all the good of the past year. I recognize that 2020 was financially, emotionally, and mentally difficult for many of us. Families lost loved ones due to the pandemic, so I certainly don’t want to minimize the devastating effects on anyone reading my words.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I’m choosing to look for the silver lining, the rainbow, and the hidden treasure in this historic year.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">2020 ushered herself in with the normal declarations of a new year, a new decade, and new beginnings. Life settled into the predicted rhythms of January and February–family dinners, ministry opportunities, lunch and dinner with friends, Mexican food before bells and choir on Wednesdays–all the things. My life was as planned and consistent as the changing of the seasons. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The first chink in the armor of normalcy occurred when the writing conference I’ve attended in February since 2013, was moved from the Billy Graham Training Center at the Cove, to Ridgecrest, a few miles up the road due to fire. No worries, it’ll be fine, I thought. The food wasn’t as good, but the speakers were still top rate.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><div style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;">There was chatter of a horrible flu in China and Europe, kind of like television noise in the background, but you’re not really watching. And then professional sports teams began canceling their seasons. We took a step closer to the television, listened for a bit and declared they were taking this thing too seriously. It couldn’t possibly shut down our country. Could it?</div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;">March roared in like a lion, and captured the attention of all of us. And you know the rest of the story. We stayed home, we worshipped from our living rooms, we ordered food and essentials from multiple apps on our smart devices, and we lamented.<table align="center" 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/AVvXsEiHCx25Pb-Bpi4YEMlD58KXuqCb7yYR_7Ft-1yQGphfdwW5DeLqAFF7VVRH3hXpGUni0MP-oEks3T_ihjJOuNK7O-fFECz-8rqSJxwF3ubHmpTfN_IBSL1BmqYQXdIC5eI2B-9fmBfV8lHf/s960/IMG_5866.JPG" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="960" data-original-width="720" height="340" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHCx25Pb-Bpi4YEMlD58KXuqCb7yYR_7Ft-1yQGphfdwW5DeLqAFF7VVRH3hXpGUni0MP-oEks3T_ihjJOuNK7O-fFECz-8rqSJxwF3ubHmpTfN_IBSL1BmqYQXdIC5eI2B-9fmBfV8lHf/w255-h340/IMG_5866.JPG" width="255" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b>Bryson and Sarah, B and Pop Pop</b></td></tr></tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div></div></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman"; text-align: left;">Our family continued to see one another on a regular basis. Sundays began with online worship, and progressed to home-cooked lunches. Andy, Bailey, and Cameron arrived and we enjoyed fellowship around the table. Morgan and B entered our lives and Sunday family time stretched into the early evening with swimming and boat rides, and lots of coloring with B. No one had anywhere to be and that provided golden opportunities for quality time.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><blockquote style="border: none; margin: 0px 0px 0px 40px; padding: 0px;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"></span></p></blockquote><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">I spent a great deal of time planning and preparing meals. Scoping out the grocery store became a daily obsession with food supplies in demand. I was present when hamburger was stocked, and bought the maximum allowed to share with my children. My love of cooking was renewed as we tried new recipes for Sunday lunch, and mastered the Big Green Egg. I read books and wrote poetry to still my anxious thoughts. Zoom entered our lives and became the gateway for human interaction, encouragement, and meetings. Who would’ve thought our social lives would mirror the opening of the 70’s show, The Brady Bunch? </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitTB0tCJ6R0Ks0cYjnURL31O7r9qH3FmJVnmDeIElSLgiVAKqlUiuo2MuBY06_K2jRJSoR4LPA5HKbDjk10a4RuS0aqIOHqo6suDsmdnpUKbP_3BmE4O37otQbY5B_9AtM5iz1OIExGr1/s1800/IMG_6119.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1800" data-original-width="1440" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjitTB0tCJ6R0Ks0cYjnURL31O7r9qH3FmJVnmDeIElSLgiVAKqlUiuo2MuBY06_K2jRJSoR4LPA5HKbDjk10a4RuS0aqIOHqo6suDsmdnpUKbP_3BmE4O37otQbY5B_9AtM5iz1OIExGr1/s320/IMG_6119.JPG" /></a></div><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We watched our son fall in love with Morgan and B, get engaged, plan a wedding, sell a house and buy a house, and it all culminated with a beautiful ceremony surrounded by family. <o:p></o:p></span><p></p><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We spent countless hours working around our farm, making needed improvements, and enjoyed time together. Long walks and serious conversation about the future were common. </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We were blessed that my husband continued to work and stay productive. This was one of his busiest years in thirty-plus years of business. Covid-19 visited our home in mid June, but my husband was the only one to get sick in our family. He still has recurring effects of having the disease. And yet, we have much to be thankful for.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">As I look back on 2020 and plan for 2021, there’s still so much uncertainty. As I write these words, the vaccine is becoming available to health care workers and the elderly. One of the most important things I’ve learned this year is that very few things are certain, nothing is set in stone. I must hold my calendar with an open hand, and the ones I love with a firm grip. I must love unconditionally, and filter everything through the lens of kindness and forgiveness.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The one thing I do know for certain is my worth in the heart of my Savior. Nothing in my life happens before it’s filtered through His omniscient, omnipresent hands. The world may look dark, yet His light never dims. I trust Him with my days, my life, and my schedule. As we roll the months of the calendar over and 2021 makes her mark in history, may we seek to be people that participate in the solution to the darkness. May our actions prove our loyalty and devotion to the One who holds us dear.<br /><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-60322639599543528082020-09-30T04:09:00.003-07:002021-06-04T05:34:39.155-07:00A Tribute of Love<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhXTkaJ6yB8hTpIrAccznfb0mtgj7UWWOWPqrmaavoX7CmYM2CTC4hTIFoy2BQEbrP2m_l4tegYuTNnDcQExOm1-PPA0aR_7QYyfoW0jV-diXwtrUJlvu853z6zo4pDbrXgPmjxMJoCMtk7/s1107/fullsizeoutput_1575.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br /></a></div><br /> <span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">We mark time by the events in our lives. Weddings, deaths, births, and graduations are the benchmarks of living. Some events are so cataclysmic that our before’s and after’s are worlds apart. For me, the death of my mother when I was fifteen was the first major before and after in my short life. Everything from that point on was measured by that loss. There was a period of time I felt no one else’s pain or suffering. The worst thing I could imagine had happened to me, and I simply felt nothing.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Other milestones in my life include leaving West Virginia and moving to South Carolina, adopting my children, moving from the coast of South Carolina to the upstate, and the </span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">different homes we lived in along the way. The year my dad lived with us, and his subsequent death, were defining moments. I changed in ways I never thought possible during that time. </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> The most recent marker in my life has its first anniversary on September 30,<sup>, </sup>2020. My dear cousin and friend, Ruth, went to heaven after a very short illness. Our family was shocked and grief stricken at her passing. She was the connection to my maternal family. Ruth was loved deeply by everyone who knew her, as witnessed by the standing room only crowd at her home church who wept at the realization she was gone. The story of her sickness and death on our lips as if to say, “How did this happen?”<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> She was young and young at heart in the very best of ways. Her husband, children, grandchildren and extended family and friends loved her beyond words. She earned respect and honor as the Proverbs 31 woman exemplified. Her friendships spanned sixty plus years, an amazing quality in this day and time of throwing people away when they no longer meet our expectations. <o:p></o:p></span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6gJhkkN7hsHpzzYCYal7Y-EgBkHD84d5WA_fSw7BbbXdUQvIBYshgl90X8l8gWOE4VbBYGgSlmtnK8VJy7NkLPa82ghB0neh4n76c0ERUB8Ijael9Ohbb9zW5w5O7LdziZhGQ_hhABhrA/" style="font-family: Cambria; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6gJhkkN7hsHpzzYCYal7Y-EgBkHD84d5WA_fSw7BbbXdUQvIBYshgl90X8l8gWOE4VbBYGgSlmtnK8VJy7NkLPa82ghB0neh4n76c0ERUB8Ijael9Ohbb9zW5w5O7LdziZhGQ_hhABhrA/" style="font-family: Cambria; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEMmFUtTSnfRV05CS4A7lrt_SYLjv9vcbUz_3Wln_JyX0pCB6HusrYoC1HZoSAm9lB7If1z1PQZbtFH15PUVcLD2guDgzANdRVHLuExaMoZFlY7WmL2xklOvEDvrJorB1t4p9l4D9d73y/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"></a><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGEMmFUtTSnfRV05CS4A7lrt_SYLjv9vcbUz_3Wln_JyX0pCB6HusrYoC1HZoSAm9lB7If1z1PQZbtFH15PUVcLD2guDgzANdRVHLuExaMoZFlY7WmL2xklOvEDvrJorB1t4p9l4D9d73y/" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNU1e6aLIwOuEB7e3LMlD8MDuWyTS7KKGyYxlYBrewdYSt0eoNOoVuYpAmxeJElVKV71Ec0diiDD54MbPpB7hgNBvelljQpsVM1ulYXP9S0q7v4JEdsObAbdeFcdZAe02UhwpSS24whvNm/" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" data-original-height="308" data-original-width="320" height="308" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNU1e6aLIwOuEB7e3LMlD8MDuWyTS7KKGyYxlYBrewdYSt0eoNOoVuYpAmxeJElVKV71Ec0diiDD54MbPpB7hgNBvelljQpsVM1ulYXP9S0q7v4JEdsObAbdeFcdZAe02UhwpSS24whvNm/w320-h308/image.png" width="320" /></a></div><br /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sisters, Alice and Ruth</td></tr></tbody></table></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> The quality I loved about her most was her ability to love unconditionally. She was my go-to person. She listened to the details of my deepest wounds and fears when my world was falling apart, not just once, but twice. When my mom died, I gravitated to her kindness and loving arms. When my marriage was in deep trouble and I was going through a breakdown, she’s the one I ran to. She comforted me and shared godly wisdom with no condemnation. We laughed together and cried together and reminisced about our family until the late hours of the night. She made my visits an occasion with the best food, surrounded by her girls, and then later her granddaughters. Her husband, Emil, ventured into the dining room every little bit, smiling and shaking his head at our laughter and conversation. I will never forget those visits and the love that filled every nook and cranny of her home.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> My heart aches for her family. Our loss was palpable at the recent wedding of one of her granddaughters. Her picture adorned a memory table, her presence felt among us. Her husband, children, grandchildren, and great-granddaughter are in my thoughts and prayers as they mark the date of their before and after. We have the blessed hope of seeing her again one day, along with the rest of our family who have already entered glory. <o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> Ruth, you were loved as well as you loved. The light dimmed in our world when you left, but the life you lived will never dim in our memories. Until we meet again…<o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 18.399999618530273px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></p>My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-83024469628834223302020-04-09T06:56:00.000-07:002020-04-09T06:56:00.088-07:00Books for Quarantine Reading and Other Free Time<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: large;">I don’t know about you, but this time in our world has affected me mentally, more than physically. I’m a very content introvert, so being at home is not an issue. I love having time for all the things I love doing. If you’ve read my blog for any length of time you know I love to read, write, and ponder. What more perfect time for these pursuits? However, it’s been difficult to focus. I normally read six-eight books per month, but during the month of March when I’ve had more time, four books was the best I could do. This frustrates me to no end.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: large;">I believe this too shall pass and decided it was time for a book recommendation post. I keep a book journal and enjoy reading over titles that were especially good. Here are a few of my favorite books from the last year:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Where the Crawdads Sing</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">, by Delia Owens, was one of the best books of the year. This is a story of a girl who lost her entire family, one at a time, and lived alone on the coast of North Carolina. She was tough as nails, and smart enough to feed herself from the river she grew up around. Nicknamed the “Marsh Girl,” she proved how resilient she was from the tragedies she suffered<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Born a Crime,</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> by Trevor Noah, is a great book if you’re interested in social justice. This is a memoir written by a South African man whose mother was black, and his father white. Interracial relationships were illegal at that time in South Africa. Mr. Noah relates his story with humor and heartbreaking details of life as a young boy who was rejected by the black community, as well as the white community. If you prefer audio books, Mr. Noah is the narrator for his book. As a disclaimer, this book is laced with profanities, which I normally shy away from.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">A Grief Observed</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">, by C.S. Lewis, is a short book written by the prolific author of <i>The</i> <i>Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. </i>Mr. Lewis married later in life, and lost his wife to cancer after only a few short years of marriage. As many writers do, he grieved through writing words of consolation to himself. I’d highly recommend this book if you’ve lost a loved one, especially a spouse.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">We Were the Lucky Ones</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">, by Georgia Hunter, is based on the true story of a family who survived the Holocaust. Their gripping story is one I could not stop reading. It helped to know from the beginning that they survived, but the details of their place in history kept me thinking about them long after I finished the book. Ms. Hunter is the granddaughter of one of the main characters. She was able to interview some of the original family members, but had to create dialogue and some of the scenarios. For this reason, this book is listed as Historical Fiction. Anne Bogell, interviewed Georgia Hunter on her podcast <i>What Should I Read Next,</i> Episode 157, dated October 30, 2018. Their story of family love and survival is truly inspiring.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: large;">I saved the best for last. My favorite book of the year is <i>One Good Mama Bone</i>, by Bren McClain, an Anderson, South Carolina native. Bren weaves the story of a woman raising the illegitimate child of her dead husband and her best friend, with the wisdom of Mama Red, a cow with a nursing calf. This story is heartfelt, and teaches the reader the meaning of perseverance, honesty, and faithfulness. Life lessons are here for the taking, and the local references make it especially genuine. 28-year-old Mama Red lives on a farm in the New Prospect Community of Anderson County. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: large;">Here are a few books that also made the list:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Educated</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> by Tara Westover<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Inspector Gamache Series </span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">(14 books) by Louise Penny<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">The Practice of the Presence of God</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> by Brother Lawrence<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">White Heather</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> by Eunice Sullivan Pracht (poetry-local author)<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Let Your Life Speak</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> by Parker J. Palmer<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">For All Who Wander</span></i><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> by Robin Dance<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-83533936730425195482020-04-02T06:43:00.001-07:002020-04-02T06:43:29.850-07:00Such A Time As This<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: large;">My quarantine may look different from yours. While I have shunned people, I still make trips to the grocery store, the bank, and the recycling center. I continue to put gas in my car, and stop at Starbucks for my favorite latte. I’ve continued to cook for my family on Tuesday night, and Sunday lunch, and every meal in between. I haven't done this much cooking since my children were home and around the table every night. The walk I take every day is therapy for my soul, cows or deer the only living thing I see. Occasionally, a neighbor drives by and we share a heartfelt wave.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: large;">A recent trip to the grocery store rewarded me an air hug from twenty yards with a church friend. Fluorescent tape announced the border I mustn’t cross in the Starbucks line, as conversation revolves around “me too” experiences. Relationships have been made sweeter through Zoom connections online. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUR5ss53u0b4bytjJw6-lmx4_AWU3oMb4xcytd4NRJXHuq2t3XyUMcn4rxgBdj1wehAa1_A7YF7q3VKOoDsFEypxRp1VPhMI6hDiqx8AB8q8ORVhExIJjWR3Ps2wJPSG2VOtHLgFQot96/s1600/AYAuT9cNTVG3dOao8GQyGg.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-size: large;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSUR5ss53u0b4bytjJw6-lmx4_AWU3oMb4xcytd4NRJXHuq2t3XyUMcn4rxgBdj1wehAa1_A7YF7q3VKOoDsFEypxRp1VPhMI6hDiqx8AB8q8ORVhExIJjWR3Ps2wJPSG2VOtHLgFQot96/s320/AYAuT9cNTVG3dOao8GQyGg.jpg" width="240" /></span></a><span style="font-size: large;"><span id="goog_2120420684"></span><span id="goog_2120420685"></span><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Life before Covid-19 will resemble nothing of life after Covid-19, and that may be a very good thing. Gathering for worship is a privilege, even more than a right. Embracing those you love will be instantaneous, rather than an afterthought. Dining in my favorite restaurant will be savored and celebrated. I often say it’s the simple things that make life extraordinary, and this crisis earns exclamation marks after that statement. Our simple activities are no longer so simple, and must be thoroughly planned so we don’t harm our fellow humans.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: large;">But, the one thing that will never change, or be taken away is the intimate connection with my heavenly Father. There are no borders, no rules, no guidelines to ban me from His presence. He is as close as a prayer, the whisper of His name on my lips. He is my comfort and peace in the midst of every storm. “Do not be afraid,” is the most repeated phrase in all of scripture, and yes, it applies to such a time as this.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">This virus did not take Him by surprise. Because of this, I choose to welcome every day as a gift I will use to bring honor to His name. I choose to delight in the beauty of this glorious spring, and serve those around me until this passes. I choose to speak words of encouragement, and not words of criticism. We each have a role to play, some much more important than others, but all necessary. I’m encouraged by the evidence of families spending more time together, laughter surrounding the amount of food we’re all eating, and the abundance of entertainment on social media. There are some crazy, funny people out there helping us navigate these strange times we’re in.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: large;">My prayer is for you to be safe and well, and tucked in with those you love each night. I pray there are more books than you could possibly read, laughter that makes your belly ache, and enough food to keep you satisfied. And when you lay your head on the pillow at night, pray for those who are suffering, and those who care for them.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-51255707148078108422020-01-21T04:57:00.000-08:002020-01-21T05:02:40.036-08:00Goodbye 2019, Hello 2020!<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13pt;"> A new year, a new decade, the roaring twenties updated. I usually ponder the year just spent before moving ahead, it helps me put life in perspective. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13pt;"> 2019 was a year of good things, sad times, and everything in between. I can see areas of growth in places I’ve struggled in the past. My desire for perfection has slowly been replaced with good enough, and the need to please people has lessened. Those are great strides for me, having lived most of my life in bondage to the whims and fancies of peoples’ expectations. That’s a lot of baggage to unload, and I don’t miss it one iota.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13pt;"> 2019 was a year of family togetherness, celebrations, Sunday lunches, Tuesday dinners, a wonderful vacation, and bonding with the granddogs. My family lost someone dear this year in the death of my cousin, Ruth. Her death left us shocked and saddened. There will always be a hole she filled with her love and kindness. The bonds of family are important to me, and I treasure time spent with those I love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimY7DMsYIKyMturEGssliY5Gsa5HecQ219YNHfTH-UgkZx5aHcCNwWQDQpWquUhAu35KD2zuL0ATq50XC_w-07BbS3anjx4hcfhS7CJNf-BBLiPrjENJE6YZvI0KAFV6Bjg2CKdWzDyUcZ/s1600/IMG_3621.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimY7DMsYIKyMturEGssliY5Gsa5HecQ219YNHfTH-UgkZx5aHcCNwWQDQpWquUhAu35KD2zuL0ATq50XC_w-07BbS3anjx4hcfhS7CJNf-BBLiPrjENJE6YZvI0KAFV6Bjg2CKdWzDyUcZ/s320/IMG_3621.JPG" width="240" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><span style="font-size: 13pt;"> I was blessed to lead a Bible study in the spring and fall, work in a ministry feeding the homeless and shut-ins, serve as secretary for the Foothills Writer’s Guild, and serve alongside women who have hearts for missions. I enjoyed playing hand bells and singing in my church choir. I don’t say all this to brag, but to say I’m thankful to be well emotionally and </span><span style="font-size: 17.33333396911621px;">physically </span><span style="font-size: 13pt;">to do all the things I feel called to do. There was a time when I went through the motions of a happy life, but didn’t feel it. My smile was a mask that covered the turmoil within. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13pt;"> This was the year I became a published author with a collection of poetry, <i>Breathings</i> <i>of My Heart</i>. Exposure to great writers and the opportunity to take two poetry classes through Anderson University helped produce enough work to compile a collection. My healing continued as words from my heart found their way to the page. In all these things I give thanks to the One who has my life in the palm of His hand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9BL5i9kvBIdwhK-9XSpvrAeqDcTkii5Dm-TP_39eapQLXFM8V00v9olWwsqZQ58TpJgvnO2YG8S9OPr_eDjKFgZmeOG1-dOOoHx_v1DR4BEv4Q7BRZn8BAbJUXNzQmKkiz90DuGRzWi6/s1600/IMG_2234.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1285" data-original-width="957" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhF9BL5i9kvBIdwhK-9XSpvrAeqDcTkii5Dm-TP_39eapQLXFM8V00v9olWwsqZQ58TpJgvnO2YG8S9OPr_eDjKFgZmeOG1-dOOoHx_v1DR4BEv4Q7BRZn8BAbJUXNzQmKkiz90DuGRzWi6/s320/IMG_2234.JPG" width="238" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13pt;"> As I look back on this year filled with many good things I realized it’s the simple things that mean the most. I’m thankful for special moments around the table with family and friends. Life isn’t always easy, but living is sweeter when shared with someone else. I treasure coffee dates, deep conversation, fellowship with my Bible study sisters, laughter about getting older, walking under a Carolina blue sky, front porch pondering, and the sight of cows and their calves. My passion for reading and learning was cranked up a notch in 2019. I’m thankful for new friends, and cherished friends of many years. I marvel at the beauty that surrounds me living the country life. The simplicity of a cup of tea as the sun rises reminds me of God’s mercies, new every morning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman"; font-size: 13pt;"> A new decade is here, with new possibilities for serving and loving those around me. I pray blessings on you, my reader. I pray you know God this year in a deep and profound way that leaves you speechless at His goodness. Happy 2020!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-63756510541880335532019-10-24T04:10:00.000-07:002019-10-24T04:14:37.826-07:00What Does Your Home Say?<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> One of my favorite Christmas movies is the 1994 version of <i>Miracle on 34<sup>th</sup>Street</i>. The movie centers on the Santa Claus, hired by Cole’s, the fictional department store that sponsors the yearly parade in New York City on Thanksgiving Day, and a little girl who must be convinced that Santa Claus is real. Near the end of the movie the main characters arrive at a charming house in the country. Susan Walker, the six-year-old daughter of Coles’ director of special events, runs inside to find a perfectly decorated home, complete with a tree covered in beautiful ornaments and tinsel, and Christmas presents stacked eye level. Her mother tells her this is their new home, as her eyes sparkle with delight. The house exudes warmth and the façade of a perfect life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> My all-time favorite movie and its house is quite the opposite. <i>Beaches </i>was showing in theatres in January, 1989. We were in Charleston, South Carolina waiting for our daughter, who was arriving on a plane from Guatemala, making our family complete. Due to a delay, we had several hours before her appearance. The title of this movie beckoned us inside, unaware of the emotional wave about to hit. While the movie has a poignant ending, the friendship between the two main characters is sacrificial and faithful. The two friends retreat to a beach house as one of them prepares to die. This house is my vision of the perfect beach setting. The one-story cottage, with wraparound porches, draws me into the story, leaving me with the desire to sit, and breathe in life, even as death is lurking. Simple furnishings convey a laid back, homey feel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> My choice in home atmosphere will always be simple living, rather than magazine worthy perfection. Natural hardwood floors that forgive footprints cast a golden glow. Long, bare windows invite sunshine to brighten the interior on cold, winter days. Spring breezes wafting through open windows are more appealing to me than heavily draped windows. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> My desire is that guests are greeted by the luscious scent of freshly baked scones, and flowers that remind you of your grandma’s garden. A warm greeting will be remembered more than the first impression of a perfect room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> The table decorations may be lovely, but is there lively conversation where you feel known and loved? Listening has more value than fussing with details in the kitchen, though details prepared beforehand speak volumes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> What is the temperature of your home, and I don’t mean the degree you set your thermostat? Is it calm and peaceful, or loud and stressful? Our home has been all these conditions at one time or another, but I strive for calm and peaceful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> If your children are still living in the home, are they comfortable inviting friends over? Is your home the “go to place,” or is it too much work hosting young people? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> I can tell you from experience, my children won’t remember how the house looked, but they remember how our home made them feel. In a culture where children are often stressed over cultural issues, and the need to fit in, home should be a sanctuary from a troubled world.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> Are you present with your family members? Huddled together in the same room, each one’s attention buried in some form of technology is not being present. Conversation that involves listening and sharing communicates your presence, your availability. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> We need to extend grace to one another, and remove the superficial tone of the perfect house, or life. The Biblical story of Mary and Martha sitting at Jesus’ feet is as current today as it was 2,000 years ago. Martha complained that Mary was lazy, and she was left to do all the work. Each of us can claim being Martha's or Mary's in a busy world.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> Jesus said, “Mary has chosen the better thing.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> I want to choose the better thing as well. In a world of busyness, and the lust for perfection, I want to choose simplicity that breeds joy and freedom. I want my home to say, “Welcome, I’m happy you’re here.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> The two houses mentioned in the beginning are very different from one another in both style and temperature. <i>The Miracle on 34<sup>th</sup>Street </i>house was a catalog home, decorated to sell Christmas. Life was make-believe until the new owners moved in. The <i>Beaches </i>house was filled with love, friendship, joy, pain, and grief. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> Isn’t that what makes a house a home? The normal rhythms of life ebb and flow; seasons of pain and sorrow are followed by exuberant joy. As life happens, the good, and not so good, be sensitive to the atmosphere you allow. Pay attention to the subtle hints of your family and adjust the temperature to one of comfort and joy. It will cost you little in dollars, but the result is priceless.</span></div>
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My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-39003392809580668792019-07-11T04:34:00.000-07:002019-07-11T04:52:09.944-07:00Nostalgia Takes Me Home<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> This was written for my series on Home. I submitted it to a writing contest, so the format is a little different. I hope this takes you to the place in your mind where home resides.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">At the mention of the word “home” mental pictures come into focus without prompting. Each of us has roots that inform the way we view the world, and in particular, the little corner of the world we inhabit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> When I’m feeling nostalgic, the word home transports me back in time to a little town in West Virginia. My roots were firmly planted in The Mountain State. The little grocery store at the end of the street was my destination on hot, summer days. Slipping in the back door, bare feet inching along on the cool, concrete floor, I’d make my way to the ice cream cooler. Orange push-ups were my favorite, as I searched through the familiar treats awaiting my taste buds.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> The pictures running through my mind reveal a little girl, hair flying in the wind, as she pedals her bicycle up and down the street she called home. I don’t remember being afraid of much back then, life was ideal. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> I remember a lush, green hillside with a copper headstone, the name etched in raised letters telling of beginnings and endings. For many years there was a single name, and then my dad’s name joined hers. Nostalgia and longing for what once was beckons me to this quiet hillside. These people were my home of origin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> My picture wouldn’t be complete without the memory of going to a little house on Second Street in West Madison. The most wonderful woman and her husband live there, and loved me well. Her hugs enveloped me, her hospitality taught me how to extend grace. I learned the meaning of unconditional love through experience, not preaching.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7WXhBHTnTP6HI-wpDGxseQMnL4iHtJoSnJ5Ob1-Tg0HSjyABBh258OEpUwSK9-fmv2U9vRUjTyOWoQIKer0JUK0RwIaWEOYNLXFoA8a17DJ6fooxAybIBxBL1Kw7jCrxEHjX3KxmV6dOA/s1600/Deeper+thinking+on+the+creativity+of+the+artist%2521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="841" data-original-width="650" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7WXhBHTnTP6HI-wpDGxseQMnL4iHtJoSnJ5Ob1-Tg0HSjyABBh258OEpUwSK9-fmv2U9vRUjTyOWoQIKer0JUK0RwIaWEOYNLXFoA8a17DJ6fooxAybIBxBL1Kw7jCrxEHjX3KxmV6dOA/s320/Deeper+thinking+on+the+creativity+of+the+artist%2521.jpg" width="247" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> That girl grew up, married, and left home, ventured to another small town in West Virginia where she established her own home. Young and ready for a new life, that little town became her home for the next six years. This was the place where sheep, goats, and horses meandered down to the little log cabin we lived in. The tiny kitchen, perfect for two, is where I honed my skill of baking pies, making the dough from scratch. This was also the place where the nursery sat empty, except for the cat that delivered her kittens in the closet…six times.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> The next move took us away from our beloved West Virginia to a state that is as beautiful, yet different, in a thousand ways. Our feet were planted in the sandy soil on the coast of South Carolina for several years. The sound of children’s laughter was a gift through adoption, and home took on new meaning. The simplicity and complexity of being a mom nurtured my heart in a way as never before. My desire to make home a place of comfort and security was overwhelming, yet I embraced my role and treasured the years of child rearing and homemaking.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> The in-between years of launching children from the nest were rocky. I didn’t know how to make a home without them coming through the door at the end of the day. Eventually, I adjusted, but not without pain and soul searching. It took many years to settle my anxious heart. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> As I’ve grown older, home has become the place I stretch my weary self at the end of the day. It’s the place my hands dig in moist soil, planting flowers that make my heart smile. It’s the place where my favorite seat in the house is a rocking chair on the porch overlooking a sloping front yard. The view of the sun setting paints a picture in my mind of perfection. My kitchen is the place I prepare meals, roll out dough for piecrusts, and brew steaming pots of tea. The kitchen is the heart of our home where we gather for conversation, the breaking of bread, and the studying of the Word.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> Life is in constant transition, rife with stress, and the daily calling each of us must answer. Having a place to sink into the love and warmth of family gives strength for each new day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> The address of our home has changed through the years, yet the timeless feeling of love, security, and homey comfort lives on. The people you surround yourself with have the power to evoke strong emotional connections that draw you into a cocoon of being home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> At the heart of this fifty-something woman is where that little girl still resides, the little one reaching into the freezer for ice cream, content with simple pleasures. May she always reach for the simple gifts of family, faith, and home, knowing everything is a gift from God.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-40734485939677790692019-05-09T03:47:00.003-07:002019-07-11T04:51:38.904-07:00When We We Were Ten, An Heirloom<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; line-height: 32px; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">This is an essay I wrote for a writing contest through the Foothills Writer's Guild. I'm posting it today in honor of my mom on Mother's Day.</span><span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> I hope she knows how much she's been missed through the years. I carry her memory with me through words and photos.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><i><span style="font-size: large;">When We Were Ten, An Heirloom</span></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">By Cindy O'Brien</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> Family pictures are the connection between generations. They tell a story without words, a story of love and loss, pain and sorrow, and remind us of the significance of certain events. No two stories are the same because every family has its own unique way of living. However, every family has its share of tragedy and triumph. The pictures we pass down from one generation to the next tell our story.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> While sitting at my writing desk, my eyes wander to the pictures on the shelf above me. Various family photos stare back at me, faces of those long gone haunt me. I want to know their stories; the ones lived in private. What were the dreams that went unfulfilled, the family secrets never shared? What did a typical Monday morning feel like, and what were the sorrows that kept them awake through the night? Time and life circumstances intervened and questions went unanswered.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cindy - 10 Yrs. Old - 4th Grade</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> Two little girls, ten or eleven years old, sit in separate frames on my shelf. I recognize the girl on the right. I remember the day the picture was made when I was in the fourth grade. Were my bangs long enough to put behind my ear, or would the photo capture the tooth I broke while twirling around the seesaw bar? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> The girl on the left is a mystery, though I know her name, and shared a home with her. She taught me how to sew, and how to care for a home and family. She taught me about faith and perseverance, and yet so much was unspoken.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> If I could reach into the photo of my ten-year-old self, I’d take her face in my hands, and make her look into my eyes. I’d tell her to be curious, speak up, and ask the hard questions. She was such a timid little girl. Most of the time, the book in her hands diverted any attention to those around her, except maybe her beloved cat, Boots. The world she lived in was quiet and structured. I want to tell her not to be so critical of herself. Her fifty-something future self is still dragging that burden. I’d tell her to enjoy reading, but lay the book aside and find something to laugh about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Juanita - 10 or 11 Yrs Old</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> The picture sitting next to my ten-year-old self is more precious to me than diamonds or gold. My mother, hair in pigtails, freckle faced, and almost smiling, rests a few inches from my own freckled face. The resemblance catches my breath every time I look at her. What did that little girl do for fun? Did she have girlfriends? Did she like to read like me? Her childhood was saddled with The Great Depression and World War II. Did those events affect her everyday life? Did she enjoy the simplicity of the early fifties as a teenager? What were her dreams as she stood on the edge of freedom? Photos reveal a young woman at the cusp of everything good and hopeful. That woman beckons me to know her. But, as sand through an hourglass, that time is gone forever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> Her life was cut short by cancer at thirty-eight years of age. The memory of the two of us, heads together, comparing our ten-year-old selves would never find a place in my history. We passed in and out of each other’s lives for a few short years. I carry her DNA, her voice, hands and feet, and yet she is unknown to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"> The ache of missing her has lessened with the passing of time and years of counseling. There will always be a mother-sized hole in my heart that no one else can fill, though I’ve tried. I’m left with a photo, an heirloom, a reminder of little girls who grew out of their freckles, and for a fleeting moment, shared a love that will never die.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Happy Mother's Day to all the women who've poured themselves into my life. You know who you are and I love you! It takes a Godly village to raise a child, and my God has been faithful to place wonderful women who have loved and mentored me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";"><i>As a side note, this piece won 1st Place in a non-fiction category in the Spring 2018 Foothills Writer's Guild contest.</i></span></div>
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My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-52356378756808637092019-01-24T03:42:00.002-08:002019-01-24T03:42:55.240-08:00Home for the New Year<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">A new year always means a fresh start for me. I love cracking open a new planner; each month a possibility for new experiences, coffee dates, small group nights, celebrations, ministry opportunities, and even medical appointments. My planners are a record of my history in the making. I often return to past years and am reminded of special events I’ve been blessed to experience. It helps keep me humble and thankful for the life God has granted.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">For the last several years I’ve chosen a word or theme to focus upon. Last year was all about simplifying, and I plan to continue the process. As I’ve pondered the new year, I keep coming back to “Home.” I tried to dodge this one because it seemed too obvious, but the word won’t leave my thoughts. I decided to stop fighting, and see where it leads.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">My thoughts of home run deep. As I pondered what to write, it occurred to me that I needed to trace my feelings about home, and logically, the place to return was my foundation. As children, we form many impressions and habits that continue throughout our lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVkorKi-_lysu-fbgsulmob7NGeU6vAiPatyqBtAgpoQidpum4vzyMb7hutFsis51nsqWNg-V4GJsI6QdloSQwdaZizAYEldv7dK0AbI91lFp3MTDvl0WzK0cnxsTiIktmLu-uWeP4Mb1/s1600/IMG_4377.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1252" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWVkorKi-_lysu-fbgsulmob7NGeU6vAiPatyqBtAgpoQidpum4vzyMb7hutFsis51nsqWNg-V4GJsI6QdloSQwdaZizAYEldv7dK0AbI91lFp3MTDvl0WzK0cnxsTiIktmLu-uWeP4Mb1/s400/IMG_4377.jpg" width="311" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">My home of origin was with my parents and younger brother. I have warm, sentimental feelings about a little house on First Street in my hometown of Madison. It’s the place I felt safest in my growing up years. After leaving the security of this little nest, life took many dark detours. The structure wasn’t as important as the simple, loving, and protected sense of being “home.” My life as an adult has centered on capturing that sense of love and security. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">As a child of the sixties and seventies, my life was simple, and predictable. Our world revolved around the church and school events. Summers were for long days of playing outside, cookouts with neighbors, church camp, housework, and lots of reading. During the school year, life involved sports, cheerleading, church activities, and lots of reading. I don’t remember having much homework in the elementary years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Home was about family. It was that one place where I was known and accepted; the bedroom I cleaned every Saturday morning, and the rhythm of meals with our family of four every evening. It was the every-other-Thursday nights of eating at Canturbury’s Restaurant; ordering the same thing for years…cubed steak, homemade french fries, and applesauce. It included the regular visits we made to Ma Bailey’s, and Papa and Aunt Phyllis’ house at least once a month, after church on Sunday. They each lived an hour away in Logan County. My introverted self thrived in this small world. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">There was a period of several years when home, as I knew it, disappeared. Losing the structure and security of my parents left me struggling emotionally and physically, and left an imprint on my heart. Because of my early struggles, home came to mean something much deeper as the years passed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">When I became a parent at twenty-seven years of age, I wanted to create a stable home for my family. I understood too well the affects of not providing love and security to my children. It wasn’t always easy, and many sacrifices were made, but I’m thankful for the years of our home life. We made many memories I’ll forever cherish.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">I’m thankful for parents who lived out their faith in front of me, giving me a foundation to secure my life in Christ. Without that beginning, I wouldn’t have known what to reach for. Never underestimate the value of giving your children stability with heavy doses of unconditional love. When the storms of life come, and they do for everyone, they will have something to cling to; a home base to return to when life becomes too hard. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">I’m not sure where this will go for the remainder of 2019, but I want to begin a conversation. As Dr. Dobson said in his long-running radio program, “Turn your heart toward home.” I look forward to the journey.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-44029478469627107332019-01-04T03:07:00.001-08:002019-01-04T03:18:59.085-08:00The Simple Life of a Country Girl<div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: Cambria; margin: 0in 0in 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">2018 was a year of transition. Again. It was also a year of hard work, heartache, and joy. You could probably say the same. That’s the rhythm of life if you’re breathing. The joys are sweeter when we face adversity. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArW5MqlarLNyPFsyphCwgyDRNi5-y_cnA8lDfreKZ08fGMD7Iwr1aLOuO5VgLWbQ1ri1hJ4GXJQM_66KoJqG0JblsmZwcskoQbjU-7fTalHM5m8SN4bRWo7JXUTcJSoccX1E2LZomuzjP/s1600/IMG_4323.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgArW5MqlarLNyPFsyphCwgyDRNi5-y_cnA8lDfreKZ08fGMD7Iwr1aLOuO5VgLWbQ1ri1hJ4GXJQM_66KoJqG0JblsmZwcskoQbjU-7fTalHM5m8SN4bRWo7JXUTcJSoccX1E2LZomuzjP/s400/IMG_4323.jpg" width="300" /></a><span style="font-family: "times new roman";">We built a house this year. A farmhouse. I’m really hoping and praying this is my forever home. It was truly a labor of love, very different from the last house we built, lived in more than nineteen years, and raised our children in. At this age in life, the need to impress anyone is gone, and the desire to build something for a new season dictated our choices.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">My theme for 2018 was <i>Living Simply</i>. I wrote several blog posts centered around this theme. Building a new home enabled us to embrace a simple and uncluttered floor plan. Now it’s time to live fully, without the stress of building, moving, and all the decisions that surround the process. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Until I moved to the country I didn’t understand how much I needed quiet. I couldn’t grasp the joy of the view from tall windows revealing deer grazing in the front yard, hungry birds crowding feeders, and sunsets that leave you speechless. I look forward to having tea on the front porch every morning as the sun comes up. The best things in life cannot be bought; they are experienced. The simple gifts of friendship, family, and service are given from God, who knows our deepest soul needs. He is the giver of every good and perfect gift. Living in the country has provided margin for me to recognize His gifts more fully.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">I began an intentional journey toward a more simple life in January. My goal was to reduce the amount of clutter that claims my attention, but as I pondered the subject I realized it was more than the physical clutter that weighed on me. Emotional and mental clutter are more dangerous than the junk I’ve moved from house to house. Learning how to let go of this kind of baggage has allowed me to enjoy living in the present instead of being anxious about the future.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">What will the next twelve months hold for me, and you? If there’s anything I’ve learned over the last few years, it’s that life is full of surprises, some good, some not so good. But I believe I can trust the One who made the stars, sets the sun in the western sky, and loves us more than we could ever imagine. He says in Jeremiah 29:11, “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "times new roman";">Welcome, 2019!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-12399374329309666942018-10-29T17:13:00.001-07:002024-02-28T12:13:30.670-08:00Buried in the Depths of the SeaWalking on the beach at sunrise recently, I couldn't help but notice the beach littered with broken shells. The raging storm from the night before forced pieces of God's handiwork on shore for everyone to see and trample through.<br />
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As I moved along the beach, images of the broken pieces of my life lay before me, as if washed onto the shore of my soul. I recalled the pain of sorting through the shards of anger, resentment, grief, unforgiveness, and shame. My brokenness was hidden unless you got close enough to see my jagged edges.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqhWdDeT9HHACn0gtai9PQkjI8KF9O6D4Oyd8Bd0vplW1tpbZ7qBenWGLXnkH4OZKCTCklTHbzJkAER8wMCAmdbb2vDJxAwGKunrSMq1Dpae1P0yeTud3asrFR_vOV41jREKMutlsWSA2/s1600/IMG_4339.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqhWdDeT9HHACn0gtai9PQkjI8KF9O6D4Oyd8Bd0vplW1tpbZ7qBenWGLXnkH4OZKCTCklTHbzJkAER8wMCAmdbb2vDJxAwGKunrSMq1Dpae1P0yeTud3asrFR_vOV41jREKMutlsWSA2/s400/IMG_4339.jpeg" width="300" /></a>An interesting thing about the ebb and flow of the tide is that the same water that emptied her rage also has the power to carry it back to the depths of the sea. The beach is eventually wiped clean with smooth hard sand, ready for walking.<br />
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That's what God did for me. He allowed the storms of my life to find their way to the surface, spread them out across the canvas of His light and truth, and then He washed me clean, carrying the burden of my brokenness back to the deepest part of the sea. Peace wafted over my soul, as the rhythm of His mercy and grace gave me hope for a new day.<br />
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What storms have you faced, or in the midst of now? Might you be tiptoeing through the debris of your brokenness, looking for a clear path? He can lead you through the painful journey to a life free of broken pieces.<br />
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The Word says His mercy is new every morning, great is His faithfulness. Just as the sun rises in the east and sets in the west, you can trust Him to bind up the wounds of your brokenness, and set you free to walk in freedom.<br />
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I don't ever want to forget His power over my life, the love He demonstrated to me, and the hope of eternal life with Him. All the broken pieces were worth the peace of walking in freedom.<br />
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<br />My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-61912962106712617002018-10-02T04:27:00.001-07:002018-10-02T04:27:36.244-07:00The Simple Life...Letting Go of ControlThis has been a year of exploring what it means to live a simple life. Gone is the need to keep up with, or compete, with anyone. I'm working on the need to please people. I'm a life-long pleaser, and this one has been more difficult.<br />
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My search for simplicity has been a process of self-examination in learning how to let go of certain things, while clinging to others. Living in the country has helped me sort out the truly necessary from the trivial habits I've made for myself. I need quiet and margin in my life to achieve simplicity, and I can see the fruit of changing my way of living.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipWncp3lI-Ck6oeq4tyMMSj6qG4TnRF6Bv5OkkVvU-DXkO1f-0qNbb9jBt9EO9iENRHF6b-Qwe10LFUVT-jLE0nD2qAujKavae3-FTO0zjvv8zBjqtUjv4JNqEqDS7FNk_nfxdaThbB6Sn/s1600/IMG_4211.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipWncp3lI-Ck6oeq4tyMMSj6qG4TnRF6Bv5OkkVvU-DXkO1f-0qNbb9jBt9EO9iENRHF6b-Qwe10LFUVT-jLE0nD2qAujKavae3-FTO0zjvv8zBjqtUjv4JNqEqDS7FNk_nfxdaThbB6Sn/s400/IMG_4211.jpeg" width="300" /></a>One of the most profound, yet simple actions, has been surrendering control over things I can't change. I'm not necessarily a worrier, but I do tend to project the end result of any number of issues..."if this happens, then this will probably follow," scenario. My brain creates all kinds of stories that will more than likely never happen; a recipe for stress.<br />
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I'm learning to accept life as it happens and leave the future, in the future. There are few things we ultimately have control over, and letting everything else go has brought peace.<br />
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There was a time I was so addicted to Major League Baseball, I'd get up in the middle of the night to check the scores. My heart would pound as I waited for the Atlanta Braves score to scroll across the bottom of my television. This was in the days before smart phones and instant everything. There wasn't a dad gum thing I could do about it but my anxiety level didn't comprehend that fact.<br />
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The weather, the economy, American politics, and especially certain people in my life will never be in my control. My responsibility is to love those I come into contact with, care for my family and home, and live every day in a way that pleases my heavenly Father. It's also my responsibility to use the gifts and talents I've been given to share my faith and point people to Jesus. Beyond that, I'm free to live simply; sit on the porch with a cup of tea, invite friends to share a meal, plant flowers and watch them grow, or serve the needs of others.<br />
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The possibilities are endless when you let go of the need to control. I recognize I will struggle with this because of wanting everyone to be happy. However, taking the first step in realizing this is not my job has brought freedom.<br />
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Each of us are responsible for how we choose to act or react to the people in our lives. And this, dear friends, is one of the secrets to my simple life.<br />
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<br />My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-80085196415626449992018-06-21T04:33:00.000-07:002018-06-21T04:33:18.033-07:00When Post Traumatic Stress Disorder Brought HealingSaying the words "Post Traumatic Stress Disorder" was something I associated with war veterans, not a simple girl like me. When my counselor proclaimed this was going on inside me, a flash of light brought focus to my decades-long struggle. Naming something can be almost as important as the cure. At least now my enemy was identified, and I wasn't crazy. This was the first step to a new life.<br />
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I've been familiar with triggers for many years. As a sufferer of migraine headaches, I know most of the triggers that cause my head to pound at the left temple. These headaches have ruled my life for many years, sending me to bed in a dark room, and to the hospital for morphine.<br />
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I now understand the kind of triggers that thrust long-buried memories into focus. In the spring of 2004, I was a normal wife and mother on the surface. By the fall, I was wearing a monitor that recorded the activity of my racing heart. An incident I witnessed sent me into a frenzy that triggered my past to scroll through my mind in blinding clarity. Unable to handle the fallout, I crammed all my feelings and emotions back where they came from. Thus, the heart monitor.<br />
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I didn't even connect the two issues so how could I expect anyone else to recognize what was happening. No one but my family knew the details and I got to the place where I thought I'd conquered. I tucked away all those ugly memories, tidied myself and everything around me. Whew, that was a close one. I was back in control now, except I wasn't. I was never in control, but fooled myself into thinking life was good.<br />
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Then came the spiral. D o w n w a r d. Because my family didn't respond in a way my heart needed, I built walls so I wouldn't be hurt. Ever. Again. One year became ten and I was isolated and miserable. After years of keeping my past at bay, I was crumbling inside. I felt like a pot on the stove, lid rocking from the intense heat, contents spilling over the sides. Making the call for an appointment to begin therapy was one of the most difficult things I'd ever done, but that call in March of 2013 probably saved my life. Week after week I spewed the contents of my heart, the damage to my soul and body, the rejections that controlled my life.<br />
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Not completely healed, the next trigger sent me over the edge. Trigger number two was a rejection I still don't talk about in public, but it was the final blow.<br />
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Through time, I began counseling with someone new, due to my original counselor moving to a different part of the state. After two or three visits she said I suffered from PTSD. God provided exactly who I needed all along my journey to healing. Charles, my first counselor, was kind and compassionate and listened with godly love and biblical truth. He focused on my worth in Christ, and simply acknowledged the horrible things I experienced without turning away from my pain. I was finally heard. He gave me the freedom to use my voice, one I'd suppressed all my life.<br />
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Theresa entered my life at a critical point. Because I hadn't fully healed, I was losing ground I thought was conquered. We spent many hours in intense therapy. My husband and I had been separated for some time when he joined me in November of 2016. Theresa led us down the necessary path of painful recovery. She taught me how to name the trauma in the presence of the one who loved me. She explained the way the brain works and what happened to me as a result of my childhood experiences. She united the physical and spiritual aspects of my body that eventually led to wholeness.<br />
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Learning how PTSD works made sense and gave me closure. Now I could tie up the loose ends of confusion and self-hate. Suffering without a diagnosis was like having migraines, yet calling them headaches. Over-the-counter meds didn't touch the pain of a migraine. But, oh the relief when the right medicine was prescribed.<br />
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And that's what happened when she named my illness. Relief. Blessed relief. The Bible says in John 8:32, <i>"Then you will know the truth and the truth will set you free." A</i>nd it's true. The truth of who I am in Christ has given me hope and abundant life. My marriage was restored, and the future looks promising. It was worth all the pain to get to this place.<br />
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If you suffer in a similar way, help is available. You don't have to live another day in darkness. Talk to someone who will listen, really listen. Don't succumb to the darkness. The light is shining on the other side of your pain.<br />
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<br />My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4174290690167073882.post-83717040745848390742018-06-14T04:56:00.004-07:002018-06-14T04:56:59.145-07:00My Father's Day TributeA father is supposed to be the first boy a girl loves. And mine was.<br />
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A father is supposed to protect and love with abandon. Mine did. And then he didn't.<br />
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I've spent many years focused on the "didn't" part. Choosing to forgive and focus on the "did" has changed my life.<br />
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I choose to remember my dad as kind and caring, because he was. I choose to remember that when he had to make a choice late in life, he chose me. He. Chose. Me.<br />
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I choose to remember how funny he was and didn't even know it.<br />
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I choose to remember how he taught me to ride a bicycle and drive a car, or actually a truck, since that's what he drove. He taught me how to love someone who is dying. He taught me the meaning of perseverance when faced with a choice of giving up. He taught me the importance of life-long friendships.<br />
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I choose to be thankful he took me to church every time the doors were open. Because of his, and my mother's faithfulness, I gave my heart to Jesus at the age of five.<br />
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I choose to remember our long talks on the back porch as he prepared to die.<br />
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I choose to remember his face as he breathed his last breath. If that's the face of looking at Jesus on the other side of eternity, then I want to follow him.<br />
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Thank you, my precious dad, for allowing me to find you again.<br />
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<br />My Little Cornerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00875214430935109799noreply@blogger.com0