tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-37973996962470087782024-03-05T04:42:55.816-06:00Another Battle WonRandom thoughts on life...and on hearing from God in the unexpected.
Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.comBlogger619125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-78838372530536423232023-12-20T20:03:00.000-06:002023-12-20T20:03:19.649-06:00No clue what to give?<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk47oxDxqBwfOYLwAmebhgdyLBFX4l-bJFJ3nTpdcp3d8i7vDNTIpg5ZNEkCYSZy2TEBYCuWkNPnMReF88S7bqQ8oDTwEOY7Dtcpou70q4L6tXb6apxyFDaEWo42qucmRoxuuWyJwNq0pnZP8MLseaq65bTgxFocrn4RhXYovqBhTcA4quJxh-Qn9aGkzM/s5184/kira-auf-der-heide-IPx7J1n_xUc-unsplash.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3456" data-original-width="5184" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgk47oxDxqBwfOYLwAmebhgdyLBFX4l-bJFJ3nTpdcp3d8i7vDNTIpg5ZNEkCYSZy2TEBYCuWkNPnMReF88S7bqQ8oDTwEOY7Dtcpou70q4L6tXb6apxyFDaEWo42qucmRoxuuWyJwNq0pnZP8MLseaq65bTgxFocrn4RhXYovqBhTcA4quJxh-Qn9aGkzM/s320/kira-auf-der-heide-IPx7J1n_xUc-unsplash.jpeg" width="320" /></a></div><br />This blog is from 11 years ago, but I needed to read it again, so I decided to share it with others.<p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;">I think it just hit me why I'm NOT looking forward to the holiday - I'm not ready! I haven't gotten even one gift yet. Christmas is less than a week away and I've gotten nothing! Well, that's not completely true. I did get one gift for my daughter. I was in the store and it hit me...I got her - oh no... I'm not telling. This might be the one time she actually reads my blog! Let's just say, I can't wait to see her unwrap it and hear her laugh when she realizes what it is. It's not a big gift, but it's one that I know will bring a smile to that sweet face.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;">Smiles at Christmas are what we all hope for. I talked with a friend today and she is so excited about Christmas this year. She just figured out what to get for her husband and she's practically giddy with joy! She's planning just how to wrap the gift, and you can tell she's anticipating her husband's face when he opens the gift.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;">That's the difference, isn't it. When you have a gift for someone you love, and you know it's something special that will make their face light up with joy, you just can hardly wait for Christmas....but now that my kids are older, there simply aren't that many surprises - or smiles. Oh, my daughter would LOVE a car, but the budget just won't allow that - not even an old one. Instead, she's asked for cash so she can go shopping. Easy - but not very exciting. My son - he wants some games. Again, easy - but not too exciting. My husband...I have no clue. We probably would both be happy with a nap. See - nothing to get excited and really smile about.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;">I would love to see that look of absolute joy that we used to get from the kids when they were little. I watch videos of them playing with the bag the toy came in and being completely enthralled. Now it takes a lot more to get them to even crack a smile.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;">There have been years when the only thing I really wanted was that smile. I worked so hard to surprise and then would watch their faces to show that they knew how special the gift was. Sometimes I got it - sometimes not. They've gotten a lot tougher to buy for now that they are older. They just don't seem to notice.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;">That got me thinking about how long God planned our gift on that first Christmas...He'd planned it from the beginning of time. This was no ordinary gift...God gave His treasure - His Son. I wonder if He watched the face of the shepherds and saw that joy? Did He look at the wise men bringing gifts and smile to Himself? Did He watch so many others that just went on their way, not even realizing a gift had been given? What about me? God prepared this gift for ME from the beginning of time...He anticipated giving to me and watching me receive. What does He see from me?</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;">Perhaps the joy of Christmas that I've been missing is due to not knowing what to give...and in not realizing what I have been given. There is no doubt that Christmas is a time of giving. I just have no clue what to give...and I'm beginning to think I don't realize what I have received.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;"></span></i><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /></p><div class="heading" style="color: #5c1101; font-family: Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; margin-top: 10px;"><h3 style="font-size: 16px; margin: 0px; position: relative;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i>John 3:16-17</i></span></h3><div class="txt-sm" style="font-size: 12px; margin: 0px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i>The Message (MSG)</i></span></div></div><p><i style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></i></p><div class="result-text-style-normal" style="font-family: "Charis SIL", charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i>"This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life. God didn't go to all the trouble of sending his Son merely to point an accusing finger, telling the world how bad it was. He came to help, to put the world right again.</i></span><br /></div><div class="result-text-style-normal" style="font-family: "Charis SIL", charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;"><i><br /></i></span></div><div class="result-text-style-normal" style="font-family: "Charis SIL", charis, Verdana, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 16px;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@kadh?utm_content=creditCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=unsplash">Kira auf der Heide</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/person-showing-brown-gift-box-IPx7J1n_xUc?utm_content=creditCopyText&utm_medium=referral&utm_source=unsplash">Unsplash</a></span></div>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-88362743878893681732023-04-27T17:46:00.022-05:002023-04-28T06:22:26.070-05:00I'm a fighter...<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZ3b7wQpLyyzwd2hKPQiujKncLvACqT2XkvbMviPob0yTsveGUHmD7kJooLehPdrC1dQErkjULpF5AWRXCNpdTx6q5XSZY-cHI_MoIiK84mmhlXIyjtHKLETBxksTnoDUUP86gvCO9nOFj6ElhsK0rmBHwneuNqfMgI5229GpRAo2JhU_05rbQQWuOw/s1912/338025067_231004642796849_3377050967549570304_n.jpeg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1912" data-original-width="1169" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAZ3b7wQpLyyzwd2hKPQiujKncLvACqT2XkvbMviPob0yTsveGUHmD7kJooLehPdrC1dQErkjULpF5AWRXCNpdTx6q5XSZY-cHI_MoIiK84mmhlXIyjtHKLETBxksTnoDUUP86gvCO9nOFj6ElhsK0rmBHwneuNqfMgI5229GpRAo2JhU_05rbQQWuOw/s320/338025067_231004642796849_3377050967549570304_n.jpeg" width="196" /></a></div><br />I'm not sure how long ago it was that I heard the verdict...you are diabetic. My first response was "No, I'm not." To which the nurse practitioner said, "Yes, you are." This went back and forth a few times before she said, okay but whatever you need to come in tomorrow so I can show you how to give yourself injections.<p></p><p>There I was, at the peak of my fitness...at least I thought I was. I was running up to six miles a day, eating clean - most of the time, but with occasional symptoms I could explain away. This... I didn't know what to do with this. </p><p>Friends were so "helpful"..." You know you could lose your legs." Yeah, that's something a runner wants to hear! "You could wind up on dialysis." Seriously people, could you just stop talking? Even the endocrinologist they sent me to said these same things! But none of what they said phased me...I knew I was a fighter, so I started fighting. And I fought <i><b>well</b></i> - for a while. Then I got tired. I started trying anything that gave me the promise of lower readings or even that somehow they could "cure" diabetes. By now you've probably guessed that none of them worked. And I got tired - <i>really </i>tired.</p><p>Then I saw a post from a friend talking about how a new fitness program she was doing had gotten her off all her blood pressure meds. I was cautiously optimistic. I was seeing how she was looking happier and fitter in ways that were clearly visible. So I decided to ask, "What are you doing?" I thought she'd recommend some pill or powder. Instead, she happily recommended that I book an appointment to talk to her health coach at Shutupeatclean. Okay, I responded as I continued to watch from the sidelines. Then one day, I decided to book an appointment. Best decision I've made in years!</p><p>I discovered what I needed in my fight - someone who could come alongside me who was knowledgeable in health and fitness and most importantly, someone who would hold me accountable. See, I've had lots of good intentions over the years - what I lacked was motivation and accountability when my motivation waned. I needed information - not information like the internet offers, in a tidal wave with some truth and a whole lot of fiction! I needed someone who could walk me through the process of reclaiming my health and give advice when I was confused. That's what I found in Shutupeatclean and Coach Brian.</p><p>I made progress - solid progress, gaining muscle as I lost fat, and developing a lifestyle of fitness. While I still take meds for diabetes, my A1c is down 2 points and I'm actually eating! No starvation diet or extreme food choices that eliminate almost all carbs. I'm exercising like I did before the diagnosis - even more. And I'm finally back to running without injuring myself. </p><p>I went from, "You could lose your legs" to "Are you ready to beat your time in that last race? I've signed up for a Spartan run and while I know it will be a challenge, it's a challenge I'm ready to face.</p><p>The diagnosis was meant to give me a death sentence...I believe Jesus has healed me and has given me direction and help in "taking off the grave clothes" that would keep me tied down. I am a fighter, a warrior, and I'm not giving up that easily. As Coach says, I am a Dragon Slayer and I'm not backing down now.</p><p>*Post note: Fear likes to play on a person. My father lost his legs before he died. He was unable to care or feed himself. Fear can tear away at a person even when they don't realize it. God has not given us a spirit of fear but of power, love, and a sound mind. THAT is why I'm continuing to fight...I refuse to accept the "diagnosis"!</p><p><br /></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-90471221414864981452023-04-09T20:30:00.000-05:002023-04-09T20:30:23.334-05:00Guilty...<p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieaj_t28w-GGtQ0nsA2Lb-qc6WrJglujJOWE0DS7DeUYM64zf0Iz-Q7bYtXC5r3fa-ExHnG7sxb6iI5MfDaslxQzZ2jLakVhXHfwfKycDFjoyxMbqMVXGg6Isap5SkAGQlEmsPHcrmIRqnDaIC5ag81HJLc2OvIpUWIOWK_jNCiI_ETUS550irTx4_qQ/s4048/alicia-quan-kBybHJ3CEWI-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3036" data-original-width="4048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieaj_t28w-GGtQ0nsA2Lb-qc6WrJglujJOWE0DS7DeUYM64zf0Iz-Q7bYtXC5r3fa-ExHnG7sxb6iI5MfDaslxQzZ2jLakVhXHfwfKycDFjoyxMbqMVXGg6Isap5SkAGQlEmsPHcrmIRqnDaIC5ag81HJLc2OvIpUWIOWK_jNCiI_ETUS550irTx4_qQ/s320/alicia-quan-kBybHJ3CEWI-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br />This is a blog I wrote quite a few years ago, but since today is Easter, I decided to repost it. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Good Friday. As a kid, I never could wrap my mind around how the day Jesus died on the cross could be called "good." I'm not sure I could do it as an adult either. How could anything "good" be found in that day?</span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Last week in Kids' Church, I taught the lesson on Palm Sunday and Jesus' entry into Jerusalem. As He entered the city, the people called out "Hosanna" which means "save us." I've taught this story many times but this time, it hit me that Jesus was there for Passover - and He had come as the <i>sacrificial lamb</i>. Somehow it struck me like never before. Just as He was born in a stable like the sacrificial lambs were born, He was going to the Passover as the lamb of God...a sacrifice on this day that would mark how God made a way for the Children of Israel to be spared death just before the Exodus. </span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Once again, I started pondering something I've heard so many times - Jesus, who knew no sin, hung on the cross. He was not guilty... Then somewhere, I heard a shocking statement. <b><i>Jesus was guilty - not with his own guilt, but with ours.</i></b> Just as the lamb that was sacrificed "took on" the sins of the people, Jesus took on our sins that day. But how do you explain that to children? </span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">That's where the other part of our lesson came in. I wish I had thought of it, but I found it on another site. You can find the original lesson it comes from at this site: <a href="http://www.cornerstonesforparents.com/helping-kids-understand-jesus-good-friday">Helping kids understand Good Friday</a> Basically, I had my son, Levi, stand before the group to represent Jesus. In his words, "I don't look like Jesus," but he certainly looked more like Him that anyone else in the room. The lesson suggested this person wear a robe, but we couldn't find one that fit my son, so a really big red shirt would fit the bill. As it turned out, that red shirt was much more effective than any robe would have been.</span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">As my son stood in the front of the room, the children noticed that his shirt had no spots, nothing. It was just red, like the blood of Jesus. Then they each took scraps of black construction paper and wrote one of their "sins" on it, something they had done wrong whether big or small. They came up and taped those black blotches to his shirt; before long it was covered! He then took the shirt and turned it wrong side out. The red completely covered all the sins. Like the thief on the cross that recognized Jesus for who He was, all those who gave their sin to Jesus had them covered by the blood of the lamb.</span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">You know, I've done this lesson before and we put our sins on the cross, but this is the first time I've ever done it where I put them on a person that represented Jesus. Maybe it meant so much more to me because we used my own son as a prop...I'm certain if it had been left up to me, I'd never have allowed my son to carry all those sins of others to the cross. But there he stood, representing Jesus - covered with the "sins" of others. </span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This made me look at things in a whole new light. When Jesus stumbled as He carried that cross up the hill, was it because it was so heavy, or because the sins that were now placed on Him were so heavy that the weight of them made it nearly impossible to walk? The one who was spotless was literally carrying what I had done all the way to the altar and then acted as the sacrifice that would cover them all.</span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">I have heard the story of Jesus on the cross in so many ways, but for some reason, seeing those black blotches on that red shirt made me see things in a new light. Jesus was guilty when He hung on the cross - but the guilt was mine. He had taken it on so that I didn't have to. </span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Only God could take the horror of that day and turn it into something "good." If He can do that on that day, surely He can take whatever comes my way and turn it to good, too. </span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Thankful Good Friday and Easter, my friends. Like the thief on the cross that believed, our debt has been paid, and we are guilty no more.</span><br /><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Romans 8:28</span></i><br /><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">And we know that God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those called according to His purpose.</span></i><br /><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Isaiah 53:12 (emphasis mine)</span></i><br /><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-size: 15px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Therefore I will give him a portion among the great, and he will divide the spoils with the strong, because he poured out his life unto death, and was numbered with the transgressors.<b> For he bore the sin of </b><b>many</b>, and made intercession for the transgressors.</span></i></span><br /><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-size: 15px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-size: 15px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">Hebrews 9:28</span></i></span><br /><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-size: 15px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">so Christ was sacrificed once to take away the sins of many; and he will appear a second time, not to bear sin, but to bring salvation to those who are waiting for him.</span></i></span><br /><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-size: 15px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><br /></span></i></span><span style="background-color: #fdfeff; font-size: 15px; text-align: justify;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">1 Peter 2:24-25 (Message) (emphasis mine)</span></i></span><br /></p><div style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px;"><span class="text 1Pet-2-21-1Pet-2-25" id="en-MSG-12838" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">This is the kind of life you’ve been invited into, the kind of life Christ lived. He suffered everything that came his way so you would know that it could be done, and also know how to do it, step-by-step.</span></i></span></div><div class="poetry top-1" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 14px; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em; padding-left: 2.6em; position: relative;"><div class="line" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;"><span class="text 1Pet-2-21-1Pet-2-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">He never did one thing wrong,</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span class="text 1Pet-2-21-1Pet-2-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">Not once said anything amiss.</span></span></i></div></div><div class="first-line-none top-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 1em;"><span class="text 1Pet-2-21-1Pet-2-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif;">They called him every name in the book and he said nothing back. He suffered in silence, content to let God set things right. <b>He used his servant body to carry our sins to the Cross so we could be rid of sin</b>, free to live the right way. His wounds became your healing. You were lost sheep with no idea who you were or where you were going. Now you’re named and kept for good by the Shepherd of your souls.</span></i></span></div><div class="first-line-none top-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-top: 1em;"><span class="text 1Pet-2-21-1Pet-2-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@alicia2joy?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Alicia Quan</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/wallpapers/religion/cross?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></span></div>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-89511188856969328832023-01-08T08:13:00.002-06:002023-01-08T08:13:29.101-06:00They call me...Guinea pig<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWiG-U3wEK-Xtp9ODDhtEvXdKeCpSTBNQNm84TPryqCuKthI7u_SAOVuwAiwBMdEnErReBnrhtMefS5gf1yRzngb8Dc3OIn92Q1PLYCT_HWx3MiaKFh2fmVmT5Ss9ILSTU2vGR0a1DBrXoEGsuB-gvl15mciYdA7t-TSr3nRGXOpWpzGBkpseqN_ljw/s4670/bonnie-kittle-MUcxe_wDurE-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3113" data-original-width="4670" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuWiG-U3wEK-Xtp9ODDhtEvXdKeCpSTBNQNm84TPryqCuKthI7u_SAOVuwAiwBMdEnErReBnrhtMefS5gf1yRzngb8Dc3OIn92Q1PLYCT_HWx3MiaKFh2fmVmT5Ss9ILSTU2vGR0a1DBrXoEGsuB-gvl15mciYdA7t-TSr3nRGXOpWpzGBkpseqN_ljw/s320/bonnie-kittle-MUcxe_wDurE-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />This post will be about my journey with diabetes...and hopefully more.<p></p><p>About 12 years ago I was diagnosed as diabetic. I guess I could have titled this post, They call me diabetic, but it goes further than that. I have always cringed at being identified by the disease that has tried to define me. I remember telling the nurse practitioner that I was NOT diabetic, despite having a reading of 583 for my blood sugar. She kept saying, yes you are to which I kept responding, no, I'm NOT! Finally, she said, "Okay, but I still need you to come in tomorrow so I can show you how to give yourself insulin injections."</p><p>I quickly learned how to "count carbs" and be a "good diabetic". For a while, it worked. I was in the Honeymoon period of my diagnosis. It worked, lulling me into the idea that I knew what I was doing. Now, fast forward to the past couple of years. I was no longer, in control. In fact, it seemed that all of the experts had different advice - thus my new name - Guinea pig. </p><p>Oh, they didn't call me Guinea pig, but that is in essence what I was. Take an A1c test - hmmmm, too high. Let's try this. First, it was medicines, then lifestyle changes, then one thing after another. I got so sick of the questions, "Are you drinking water? Cutting out sweets and breads? Walking?" Get the picture - I was a guinea pig. </p><p>And my own research wasn't much better. Every ad that scrolled across my screen was for something different - try cinnamon, eat this, don't eat that, try this new medicine. It was exhausting. For a while, I tried Keto and had a degree of success, but it was exhausting. </p><p>Recently, I took on a trainer - Coach Brian with <a href="https://shutupeatclean.com/">Shutupeatclean</a>. Yeah, the name pretty much says it all. Stop all the complaining and change your life. There is SO much to this program, but since I'm on the eating subject, that's the focus. </p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLe4zUK28gO_cEQjtTf0TrF87KWVcjou5axEe3EcSCI8pGflujS5vDhPFBt97kW2cuDQ7uVc0j_oHg_4hsLAc6oen-leNORQMTsLJO-LJ6pN7rZ66fox6bFsc0eFg0Zc3di9GnxCItmM4YG4fzc1Do2u4staszO9DQd8PkszdtNzVqPrVGdEZ5Uyndog/s2048/320596986_3400536023606567_5138766747069561541_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1980" data-original-width="2048" height="155" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLe4zUK28gO_cEQjtTf0TrF87KWVcjou5axEe3EcSCI8pGflujS5vDhPFBt97kW2cuDQ7uVc0j_oHg_4hsLAc6oen-leNORQMTsLJO-LJ6pN7rZ66fox6bFsc0eFg0Zc3di9GnxCItmM4YG4fzc1Do2u4staszO9DQd8PkszdtNzVqPrVGdEZ5Uyndog/w160-h155/320596986_3400536023606567_5138766747069561541_n.jpg" width="160" /></a></div><br />Almost immediately I saw success! I lost weight! I felt stronger!! I even got "guns" as my students call them. And yet...still my blood sugar was spiking for no reason. Coach looked at every aspect, constantly working to find the source of the problem and kept mentioning, it might be the protein drinks you are using. To be honest, I quickly dismissed this since I "knew" what I was doing. After all, I'd been counting carbs for years! My protein drinks ranged from 0 - 4 carbs per serving. It couldn't be that. Still, he persisted bringing up that perhaps that was the issue.<p></p><p>Well, I finally got frustrated enough to be really honest. All my "labs" looked great, but that one important reading kept showing out in a really negative way! Coach said once again - it has to be the protein drinks. He explained it once again...and finally, I decided to be the guinea pig and try it. I got myself to a "normal reading" and then drank a shake. My blood sugar jumped up 60 points. </p><p>Okay, but honestly I still wasn't sure...so, I waited till I had a "low" and I thought it would be the perfect time to try again. Only one variable - that's how to do an experiment with a guinea pig. One drink - and it was delicious! Again, a 60-point jump that continued to increase! Dang - looks like he was right. (I hate it when he's right.)</p><p>I often grumble under my breath that it's just not fair. Everyone else gets to eat what they want but I cannot - well, not and remain healthy. I desperately want to be "normal" but simply put, <b>I. Am. Not. </b>And maybe that's okay. Maybe my path is supposed to look different. Maybe being a guinea pig is part of the overall plan.</p><p>I in no way believe that God gave me diabetes - God doesn't do things like that. But He did allow it, knowing that as I turned things over to Him, He would use it for my good and His glory! And he planned ahead of time to bring those into my life that could help me overcome. My doctor, that I dearly love, and my Coach, that I love to hate. </p><p>I can't live like others - and that's not a bad thing. Sometimes I feel like a guinea pig - I want a simple, cut-and-dried answer...but I am not living a simple, cut-and-dried life. And neither are you. We are called to be more than conquerors...and sometimes that means we have to go through a period of feeling like a guinea pig, running test after test to see what works. </p><p>Don't be discouraged...God will provide the answers you need - when you are finally ready to hear. I don't know what your "protein drink" is - that thing that is supposed to help according to all the commercials and experts and magazines. What I do know is that God is faithful and will help you see the answers you need when you are ready. You may not get all the answers you want, but you will find the answers to your purpose and so much more when you seek...and sometimes are willing to be a guinea pig. </p><p><br /></p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@bonniekdesign?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Bonnie Kittle</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/photos/MUcxe_wDurE?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a>It's not that God is trying to figure it out - He's trying to help you see.</p><p>Happy new year and new vision to you my friend....from a fellow guinea pig.</p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-47215866268250909572022-12-08T04:41:00.004-06:002022-12-08T05:02:07.001-06:00Why do crazy?<p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgML2CLDpmGNqidllUrH8-CH-Q52EiyKs28Ile6aLZLijBxTcvF4NzeeDPY9mMZAVB4e7Xzzb57TkJIRbNSUsFlqGtRAwDzvNCz-_XR2uX8z7u8jbwZoHYvIyk8Fvh9ohCH-d8COYXmpP24lm0fvkM9Dq3W6CkZ2MhsGHrj8vUaWTaWX6b2BBcrPm3tpQ/s6016/trent-pickering-ewGbXBIVhyM-unsplash.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="6016" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgML2CLDpmGNqidllUrH8-CH-Q52EiyKs28Ile6aLZLijBxTcvF4NzeeDPY9mMZAVB4e7Xzzb57TkJIRbNSUsFlqGtRAwDzvNCz-_XR2uX8z7u8jbwZoHYvIyk8Fvh9ohCH-d8COYXmpP24lm0fvkM9Dq3W6CkZ2MhsGHrj8vUaWTaWX6b2BBcrPm3tpQ/s320/trent-pickering-ewGbXBIVhyM-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />Those who know me probably have noticed a change in me lately - I know this because people keep asking me, <i>"Why are you doing this?"</i> I'm pretty sure they think I am crazy - and maybe I am.<p></p><p>What am I doing? Well, I've started working with a virtual trainer, Brian McMillan from <a href="https://www.facebook.com/shutupeatcleanmobile">Shutupeatclean</a> and it has resulted in quite a few changes in my life. Now, to be honest, I thought I was doing this simply to lose a few (make that a lot of) pounds and try to fight back aging. I had no idea that I would be doing crazy things like walking six to seven miles with a weighted vest on Saturdays or exercising every day much less eating clean! Now that I've been doing crazy for a few months, I'm starting to see it's a whole lot more than just losing my 'middle-aged', okay - my 'old-aged' physique. </p><p>At first, I noticed that I was tired - but it was a good kind of tired. Getting outside and sweating to get in my steps each day felt pretty good, not to mention how much it helped clear my head to simply spend some time moving. As the walks became longer, I had time to listen to sermons and books that helped me think about things in a different way. Getting in those 10,000 steps each day also helped me step away from all that demanded my time and clear my thoughts. I found myself able to actually THINK instead of simply running from one thing to another.</p><p>Before long, I noticed I was standing straighter and walking with more confidence. I could bend over and pick up a pencil off the floor that a student had dropped for the hundredth time without it being such a huge chore and without getting aggravated - well, not as much anyway. I started feeling stronger both physically and mentally.</p><p>Instead of spending my time mindlessly vegging out on social media (come on - I can't be the only one that has had the little TikTok message tell me I'd spent a long time on there and needed to put it down!) I was sitting less! The chair that once sucked me in after work didn't seem to have the same suction power! And when I did sit down, I picked up my Bible more often. In fact, since I started all this crazy, my Bible study went from obediently listening to each day's devotion to digging deeper and actually studying! My hunger for good foods was paralleled by my hunger for God's Word instead of junk! This does not mean I don't occasionally enjoy a tv show or two or even spend a little time on TikTok - but there is balance now! </p><p>And now we get to the real reason for the crazy - something I'm only beginning to see that came from my study. In Daniel 7, (where my study has taken me) I came across a passage that referred to the one who was behind all the evil - and he was referred to as the dragon. My ears perked up immediately! Coach calls the people he works with "Dragon Slayers". Is the real reason I am doing all this crazy because God is reminding me we are in a battle? My enemy isn't flesh and blood - not even my own pudgy flesh or diabetic blood! My journey in this life isn't about me...it's about what God created me to do. </p><p>Now I'm not saying I've gotten it all together by any means - I have a long way to go! But in Daniel 7:25, it says that the enemy will "oppress" the saints. Oppress "literally means to 'wear away' or to 'wear out'. As a believer - one who trusts that God has a purpose for my life even if I don't see it - I recognize that I had gotten <b>tired</b>. I was <b>worn out</b>. My mind was telling me to just take it easy. It repeated over and over - "You're getting older, look forward to retirement and slow down!" </p><p>Maybe the reason it is so important that I keep doing 'crazy' is that I needed to recapture my health and thinking. I have an enemy that is trying to make me <b>tired</b>, <b>wear me out</b>, and get me to <b>give up</b>. But as long as God has given me time here on earth, I want to be a "dragon slayer", be it my own dragons or those that I encounter in the world.</p><p>So why do <b>crazy</b>? Because I truly believe God isn't finished with me yet and I want to be ready for whatever He calls me to do. I don't want to enter heaven saying, "I know You had more for me, but I was just so tired." </p><p><b>Come join me in crazy. </b></p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@who_is_trent?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Trent Pickering</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/crazy?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-70065836934367207742022-11-22T19:16:00.002-06:002022-11-22T19:16:34.485-06:00Thanksgiving lessons from the leaves...<p><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhGofjcxMhAGYMRILkzDIMVE6t4YOzlfURKdg3wi468nhYvTddyk-gEOLnLCONbHnaRe8JGi9cpTnMzJVN4m4J3DlVN4zYGPQazBek3uJ1MTyHPisn7vfby7P8DbCy-N1-wxdoWTdvyih7I2mcCvt7kl5qrbBhxE5521-IJ3S4Q8_qpqgQ32PsW4VUw/s6000/alex-motoc-G1qq0jl_B-s-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="6000" data-original-width="4000" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJhGofjcxMhAGYMRILkzDIMVE6t4YOzlfURKdg3wi468nhYvTddyk-gEOLnLCONbHnaRe8JGi9cpTnMzJVN4m4J3DlVN4zYGPQazBek3uJ1MTyHPisn7vfby7P8DbCy-N1-wxdoWTdvyih7I2mcCvt7kl5qrbBhxE5521-IJ3S4Q8_qpqgQ32PsW4VUw/s320/alex-motoc-G1qq0jl_B-s-unsplash.jpg" width="213" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br />Today, as I raked the leaves in my yard, this blog from years ago, came to mind...and it began with the wind.</span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span><p></p><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Yesterday, I tackled the job of raking the front yard. We have a beautiful popcorn tree that just a few weeks ago was full of the most beautiful colored leaves. Now they all lay at my feet and covered every square inch of my yard in crunchy brown fragments. I knew the weather was going to turn and if I was going to get this done, now was the time. So I raked, and raked, and raked. To make the job more interesting, the wind kept blowing and scattering my leaves. I offered up a prayer - okay, it was more of a complaint..."Come on, God! Give me a break!" For a moment, the wind turned and blew with me instead of against me; I smiled only to then immediately experience the wind shift again. It was then that one of those random thoughts hit.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">From here on, this blog may seem redundant, stating the obvious for the oblivious. Yet, it is something I must remind myself of daily. Can I thank God in ALL things, not just those I see as a blessing?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">As I raked and the wind turned against me again, I realized that the same wind that blew my work away was bringing a cool refreshing to my sweaty brow. It caused leaves to dance in merriment up to the unbelievably blue sky. I could get angry and "shake my fist" at the wind, or I could take a step back and see things in a different way. Instead of working against the wind, I needed to shift my position and work with that wind....see the gift that it brought in the midst of challenges.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Many challenges I face in life are nothing more than things not going the way I think they should. Perhaps in these times, there is something I can learn. Do I fuss and fume when things don't go "my way"? Do I stare in disbelief when life hands me pain? Do I forget to look up and see if perhaps that which is causing me frustration is at the same time blowing in something else I need? Am I willing to be thankful in ALL things?</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">That same popcorn tree had given us shade all summer long when we needed it. It had painted a beautiful picture to welcome me home during the first few days of fall. It will serve as the backdrop for our nativity this Christmas. I had thanked God for its shade and colors, could I thank God for its barrenness as well? Would I lift my eyes from the mess at my feet to see the hope? </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">I don't know what wind has blown into your life lately...but is it possible that the wind that is "messing with" your plans may also be bringing blessings and hope you have not seen. Though it seems that all is crashing around you....look up. Your strength and hope are there. You can not see them, just like you can't see the wind. But just like the wind, you can feel it and know He is there.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">This Thanksgiving, in the midst of all the hustle and bustle of cooking, cleaning, and holiday activities, may you feel the cool wind of His presence and know that He is there. That is something we can truly be thankful for.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"> </span></div><div><span><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif; font-size: medium;"> <b><span style="color: blue;"><i><span class="passage-display-bcv">1 Thessalonians 5:18</span><span class="passage-display-version"> (MSG)</span></i></span></b></span></span><div class="version-MSG result-text-style-normal text-html"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="color: blue;"><i><sup class="versenum">16-18 </sup>Be cheerful no matter what; pray all the time; thank God no matter what happens. This is the way God wants you who belong to Christ Jesus to live.</i></span></b></span></div></div><div class="version-MSG result-text-style-normal text-html"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;"><b><span style="color: blue;"><i><br /></i></span></b></span></div><div class="version-MSG result-text-style-normal text-html"><span style="font-family: Georgia,"Times New Roman",serif;">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@alexmotoc?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Alex Motoc</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/fall-leaves?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></span></div>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-82823258255116739212022-11-19T14:19:00.002-06:002022-11-19T14:19:34.649-06:00Just quit<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDq7Eyk1iRpsOglM1H2kXou-PJD2azumbmkt_sUNwGv4q3uKfTXm5E6yVLPgJe-CKNxdffJELxj7IA-7gxjY9ZnWikW4LV6wnmYSy5g1c1-lOLHX0R_4FC1zxDvMSfQGzMP4UHmLHsr-ptcR-Z8iDbZ_divyMfm21Sn65-6kHHREX_-NuP5ipTeGHulA/s5472/emma-simpson-mNGaaLeWEp0-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3648" data-original-width="5472" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDq7Eyk1iRpsOglM1H2kXou-PJD2azumbmkt_sUNwGv4q3uKfTXm5E6yVLPgJe-CKNxdffJELxj7IA-7gxjY9ZnWikW4LV6wnmYSy5g1c1-lOLHX0R_4FC1zxDvMSfQGzMP4UHmLHsr-ptcR-Z8iDbZ_divyMfm21Sn65-6kHHREX_-NuP5ipTeGHulA/s320/emma-simpson-mNGaaLeWEp0-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />That voice...the one that whispers in your head, "Just quit". </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It's always a whisper - anything else and you might recognize the voice. It's a familiar one... " <i>just quit."</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It continues on...that whisper. <i>"No one notices. No one cares. Who do you think you are to try this? It won't make a difference."</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">That whisper. It drains you. And it seems impossible to make it go away.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">So instead of making it go away, <i><b>add</b></i> to the words. Add the word <i><b>"don't" </b></i>and turn it all around.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">When the whisper says "Just quit," quietly add the word <i><b>"don't...just DON'T quit."</b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Even if no one notices - <b><i>just don't quit.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Even if no one cares - <b><i>just don't quit.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Even if it doesn't seem like it makes a difference - <b><i>just don't quit.</i></b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Slowly the voice of your enemy will fade and in its place, you will begin to hear the voice of the great cloud of witnesses who are cheering you on. <i><b>"Just don't quit! You can do this. What you do matters." </b></i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The enemy only wins if we listen to him. The enemy is the only one who benefits if we quit.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">But those who benefit if we don't quit - <b>those are too many to count.</b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">So when the whisper comes - <i>"just quit,"</i> come back by adding one little word. </span></p><p><b><i><span style="font-family: georgia;">Just. Don't. Quit. </span></i></b></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia;"><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: justify;">"Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses [who by faith have testified to the truth of God’s absolute faithfulness], stripping off every unnecessary weight and the sin which so easily </span><i style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: justify;">and</i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: justify;"> cleverly entangles us, let us run with endurance </span><i style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: justify;">and</i><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; text-align: justify;"> active persistence the race that is set before us," Hebrews 12:1</span> </span></p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@esdesignisms?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Emma Simpson</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/weary-runner?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-68645904680774152262022-03-12T10:47:00.000-06:002022-03-12T10:47:02.698-06:00The Gilligan in me...<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmtS4KBGOCQ6HjcVvw0sawbPjFoAWHULwO8Z_d0NtUwwlvpsesKNF9UF_B6S_KtJIZBHaiSNrwExLZGfgB8oY61lXE2Vd89BAUJltuoTR0xCN8UjMtrr7yDVo2jQ5B_MbsHpfeq3LJNL5Z87xiaPlJqO12MSi-QoyBbR_UIvdBy2qU0NOW3ere8DZPmA=s2896" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1944" data-original-width="2896" height="215" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgmtS4KBGOCQ6HjcVvw0sawbPjFoAWHULwO8Z_d0NtUwwlvpsesKNF9UF_B6S_KtJIZBHaiSNrwExLZGfgB8oY61lXE2Vd89BAUJltuoTR0xCN8UjMtrr7yDVo2jQ5B_MbsHpfeq3LJNL5Z87xiaPlJqO12MSi-QoyBbR_UIvdBy2qU0NOW3ere8DZPmA=s320" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />Today's random thought is a bit more random than normal! </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Remember the old tv show, Gilligan's Island? Poor Gilligan, he was forever messing up. It seemed that each episode he found a new way to do something "stupid" - something that made you want to facepalm at the ridiculousness of it all. On the rare occasions that he wasn't the "clown" of the episode...wait; he was ALWAYS the clown of the episode. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">In contrast, there were all the other characters that each had endearing qualities - the Skipper who had to lead this eclectic bunch, the Professor who could make anything out of coconut shells and scrap ship parts, Ginger who was gorgeous and looked perfect every episode, Mary Ann who was equally pretty and yet just so darn likable, the Howell's - the rich couple who somehow still had plenty of the finer things in life despite being stuck on a deserted island...and Gilligan. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">But today, the song from the series played in my head...<i>"If not for the courage of the fearless crew, the Minnow would be lost." </i>Let's see - the crew would be the Skipper...and GILLIGAN! If not for Gilligan's courage, they would have all been lost.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">We all have times when we feel like the Gilligan of the bunch. We kick ourselves at our own stupidity and we're embarrassed that we're not the smart one or the pretty one or the rich one or the one that everybody loves - we're the Gilligan. But according to the song, that's not how Gilligan is remembered - he's remembered as courageous, saving the lives of those on board. His mistakes aren't sung about - it's the one moment in time when he did what he'd been prepared for.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">In Esther, there's a verse that talks about perhaps Esther had been made queen for such a time as this. I know that very likely no one reading this has been crowned queen lately, but perhaps in our own Gilligan way, we have been created for such a time as this. History won't remember all the mistakes you made every day. They won't write a song about how you goofed up on a regular basis. History will remember the difference you made in the lives around you as you rose to the occasion as needed. Well, let's be honest, history probably won't remember most of us at all. But those who needed us that one time that we came through - they will remember us. And that is enough.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">So for all the Gilligans out there, remember you are the fearless crew. History won't remember all your awkward times, it may not remember you at all...but you were born for such as this! </span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia;"><b><i>Esther 4:14 (b) </i></b></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia;"><b><i>"...And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?”</i></b></span></span></p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@gmax?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Max Goncharov</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/collections/200218/children?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-64365822535996846482021-12-05T11:11:00.005-06:002022-12-18T10:12:50.511-06:00Why a manger?<p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6PnotorvK7Q1hx4tZ3c456pgZ0yaIWnkKqpG0_EF8vB8WPkvT2wwiiRmlc7AxLI4vUnBpEUYCOHqvZJ8Vc7ijFiD7zoGNrJJb26T6TZM7yzYeygdsdXHorCuDFtKab8Scl8C7RD5QbdlOqZMgm1ITNSoNTMqPKUs0lPI5pSkYFKsp1kHYoHeqNpqbvQ/s3000/daniel-sandvik-8tcYSwf-RPw-unsplash.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2000" data-original-width="3000" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6PnotorvK7Q1hx4tZ3c456pgZ0yaIWnkKqpG0_EF8vB8WPkvT2wwiiRmlc7AxLI4vUnBpEUYCOHqvZJ8Vc7ijFiD7zoGNrJJb26T6TZM7yzYeygdsdXHorCuDFtKab8Scl8C7RD5QbdlOqZMgm1ITNSoNTMqPKUs0lPI5pSkYFKsp1kHYoHeqNpqbvQ/s320/daniel-sandvik-8tcYSwf-RPw-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;">The following "random thought" actually came about while teaching in Kid's Church just before Christmas many years ago. I don't think I've ever heard it before....in fact, I had never thought of it before the words began to come out of my mouth that Sunday morning. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;"><br /><br />It was a typical Children's church service, </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;">a week or two before Christmas. I had a wonderful group of kids, most of whom I had known since they were born. These children knew </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;">quite well the story of Christmas, so making it real and new was quite a challenge. I had told the story and tried to paint a picture so that the children could experience the story anew. It was then that I asked the question - "Why was Jesus born in a stable?" Of course, the response was "Because there was no room in the inn." </span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;">Then I asked a question even I hadn't considered before. "Why wasn't there room at the inn? Did God forget to make reservations?" Of course, we all laughed at such a ridiculous question. Obviously, the birth of Jesus being in a stable was no accident....but why would God allow/choose His Son to be born in a stable?<br /><br />It's not like God didn't know when Jesus would be born. Yes, the city was crowded, but couldn't God have made room for this family in an inn somewhere? After all, He's God! He knew when the angel told Mary she'd have a son that they would be making this trip 9 months later! He could have made arrangements! I understand that there are many different views as to what this stable might have been, but it doesn't change the fact that a stable isn't a place for a baby to be born! That's where animals are born....animals like sheep. The kind of animal you'd use for a sacrifice.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;">And He came as the ultimate innocent sacrifice - a baby. Yet unlike any other baby ever born, He remained innocent and pure.<br /><br />You know, every time I think about that, it causes a lump to rise in my throat. Jesus, the King of Kings was born in a place where sacrifices are born. He was laid in a manger - the place where the animals would go for food...The Bread of Life, Jesus - born as a sacrifice.</span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;">Since this was originally written, I've learned so much more about just how significant it was that Jesus was born in a stable and laid in a manger, and how it connects to sacrifice. When a lamb was born and intended to be used as a sacrifice, it was kept blemish-free. Since lambs are somewhat uncoordinated at birth, they could harm or mar themselves right after birth, so they were wrapped in swaddling clothes to keep them from harming themselves. The shepherds, truly odd visitors to mark the birth of the Son of God, would have known this. When they were told that this would serve as a sign to them, that they would find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger - they knew exactly what that meant. I'm still trying to wrap my mind around this. <br /><br />This Christmas, as you take time to read the original Christmas story, may your heart be filled with the knowledge and wonder of God's love for you, and may it once again fill you with awe. Merry Christmas.<br /><br /><span style="color: blue;"><em><strong>John 1:29 "Behold, the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!"</strong></em></span></span><br /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: georgia, "times new roman", serif; font-size: 19.1664px;"><span style="color: blue;"><em><strong><br /></strong></em></span></span><a href="https://youtu.be/QMeWD79YXJ0">6 things you may not have known about the birth of Jesus</a><br /></p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@danielsandvik?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Daniel Sandvik</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/lamb?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-52766526660040932042021-08-08T11:43:00.005-05:002021-08-08T11:43:56.397-05:00I simply don't remember...<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_OogboHsu0On-21qsvaj5ZGiSJl-01Ol-A7Sno90dV111MiEn8EKEACkexVtaP-rQ3x3yJLnUZJm4G7yZMIbsdOlUICDqldiALYHwYkgPXMvAb9dKoswubAo0VZ9lzhzMfQWfB2xSkUv/s2048/rob-mulally-oacHEtIlXsA-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="2048" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs_OogboHsu0On-21qsvaj5ZGiSJl-01Ol-A7Sno90dV111MiEn8EKEACkexVtaP-rQ3x3yJLnUZJm4G7yZMIbsdOlUICDqldiALYHwYkgPXMvAb9dKoswubAo0VZ9lzhzMfQWfB2xSkUv/s320/rob-mulally-oacHEtIlXsA-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />Anyone who knows me knows that I have a really hard time remembering things. It's not an age thing...I've been this way all my life (at least I think I have - I really don't remember.) I'm pretty sure it's an ADD thing.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It can be the little things that happen to us all...forgetting a name now and then. My husband learned early on in our marriage to introduce himself to whoever I was talking to because there was a really good chance I couldn't recall their name on demand. It could take hours, sometimes days before the gears would click and I could recall their name and where I knew them from. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Add to this already rocky memory the fact that I've worked with children most of my life so there's their name, parent names, siblings name, their friends...you get the picture. I tell my students each year about the time I called my son Humphrey...Humphrey was our dog. They know if I will mess up my own son's name, there's a good chance I'll mess up theirs. They don't take offense. A lot of them just tell me to call them Humphrey so it's an in-class joke.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">But it's not just names. Recently my husband and I came out of a store and he mentioned remembering when that location used to be the "Aim" store. I looked at him with a puzzled look and he said, "You remember. Aim for the best!" I shook my head - don't remember it. That's when he told me I'd worked there! Okay, my memory is far worse than I thought!</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">My sweet sister is always puzzled that I don't remember things from our growing up. I do remember a few things - the tree we climbed that had flowers that smelled like bananas. My friends and I would climb up and use cans with a string to talk to each other from tree to tree. We were secret agents. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I remember being in my first grade play and having a mushroom costume that my mama had ingeniously fashioned from an old umbrella. Or the time my cute new one-piece pajamas were too long so she cut them off and hemmed them, only to discover she'd cut off one leg and one arm (hey, flowy was in style in the 70's!) We laughed and laughed and she cut off the other arm and did some amazing stitch work. I had the cutest hot pink pjs at the pajama party.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">So see, I do remember some things. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Some things I wish I could forget - an unkind word. Usually, it's that - an unkind word. My gift of gab gets me into trouble more often than I want to admit. Sometimes people overthink what I say and take it the wrong way. I should have a sign to carry around that says, <i>"Take what I say at face value - there is no underlying message or intent. Don't spend a lot of time thinking about it - I obviously didn't take much time thinking before it left my mouth."</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">And that's where all this comes around to. Since I don't remember what I say, I'd better make sure that the words that come out of my mouth are sweet because, as they say, I may have to eat them. How will I do that? As always, God's Word gives me the "how-to" to make sure I don't have to worry about what I say. It's right there in Psalm 19:14</span></p><p><b><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia;"><i><span class="text Ps-19-14" id="en-NASB-14183" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;" /><span class="text Ps-19-14" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">Be acceptable in Your sight,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;" /><span class="text Ps-19-14" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; position: relative;"><span class="small-caps" style="font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">Lord</span>, my rock and my Redeemer.</span></i></span></b></p><p><span class="text Ps-19-14" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">I don't have to remember what I say as long as I follow His Words. And one day, when I get to heaven, if I said anything worth remembering, I know it will have directed someone else to be there with me. And we can laugh and laugh for the foolishness of my words that God somehow redeemed and used for good...and hopefully, I'll even remember saying them.</span></span></p><p><span class="text Ps-19-14" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@robmulally?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Rob Mulally</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/trying-to-think?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></span></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-83019451570910568362021-07-02T11:36:00.000-05:002021-07-02T11:36:14.379-05:00Time to "Dead-head"<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qGBqUWGGK5cFbL-lB7iW3B_qzv50nyjvSob9qOMSPlJ8i30-s30mFgBW3duupIO5K023mcv1A2J7Tbh2P87yC0q1TBXIhWBaKlpV99uGYPZQaVkmbpQjjk0uGG9CAG9C05RmW6lmeYVP/s640/IMG_7639.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><img border="0" data-original-height="507" data-original-width="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qGBqUWGGK5cFbL-lB7iW3B_qzv50nyjvSob9qOMSPlJ8i30-s30mFgBW3duupIO5K023mcv1A2J7Tbh2P87yC0q1TBXIhWBaKlpV99uGYPZQaVkmbpQjjk0uGG9CAG9C05RmW6lmeYVP/s320/IMG_7639.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div><span style="font-family: georgia;">Today as I finished my morning run, I noticed that some of my flowers needed some attention. This is an actual picture of them. They had been beautiful, but now they needed to be what is known as "dead-headed" - at least that's what I know it as. It simply means that you go in and pinch off the dead blooms so the others can shine! In another few weeks, I'll need to prune the entire bush, but that's a blog for another time.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">As I reached down to pinch off the dead blooms, I had to remind myself that I was not "being cruel" to my plant. (Yes, I have apologized to them as I pinched off each tiny dead flower...) Those brown buds had already had a chance to show off and be beautiful, but now it was time for others to have the same chance. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">As I pinched and pulled, I thought about how as I get older, I feel like my "bloom" has died and it's time to make room for the younger folks and my time has gone, and blah, blah, blah...you know, the same old poor old me tune. That's when it hit me. These blooms were all a part of the same plant! Now you can connect that to the body of Christ of course, but today it hit me - there was actually one plant...a single plant! </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Some are still wondering where I'm going with all this so I'll try and explain. I saw the dead blooms as things God had me do in the past that were wonderful and right. I enjoyed every second of that bloom! But now it's time to let the old works go so that the newer blooms can shine. That doesn't mean that this old plant's time has come to an end - it's just time to do some adjusting.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">If you are by chance young and actually reading this, it may not make sense; but for those of use past the beginning plant stages, it might hit home. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It's easy as we get older to feel like we're of no more use. The blooms that once worked so well have withered and just aren't needed anymore. Our days of raising kids or whatever we used to do are coming to an end if they haven't already. What we're missing is that there are new blooms that are ready to show out! We'll only really notice the new things that God has for us to do when we "snip" off the old. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Now I'll be the first to admit, I have no idea what my new blooms are supposed to be, but I'm realizing that at 62, I'm not dead and I've got a good bit of life left to give to the Kingdom and those around me! So, it's time to pinch off the old - honestly, I'm asking God what all that includes - and recognize the new. I'm having to ask what that is as well. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">If you, too, find yourself in a season of dead-heading, feel free to share. Sometimes it helps to know we're not alone. And enjoy the new blooms...every single one.</span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia;"><i><b><span class="text Isa-43-16-Isa-43-21" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">“Forget about what’s happened;</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;" /><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-16-Isa-43-21" style="position: relative;">don’t keep going over old history.</span></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;" /><span class="text Isa-43-16-Isa-43-21" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">Be alert, be present. I’m about to do something brand-new.</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;" /><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Isa-43-16-Isa-43-21" style="position: relative;">It’s bursting out! Don’t you see it?</span></span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;" /><span class="text Isa-43-16-Isa-43-21" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px; position: relative;">There it is! I’m making a road through the desert,</span><br style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;" /></b></i><span class="indent-1" style="background-color: white; font-size: 16px;"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="font-size: 0.42em; line-height: 0;"><i><b> </b></i></span><span class="text Isa-43-16-Isa-43-21" style="position: relative;"><i><b>rivers in the badlands."</b> </i>Isaiah 43:18-19 (Msg)</span></span></span></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-51104982534298341522021-06-10T16:39:00.004-05:002021-06-10T16:39:51.451-05:00He's just a coach...<p><span style="background-color: white; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; color: #333333; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvblOWBw_qrNkXk5_7QnGaT9x1tSOLRVzFQxx6exlvTCqBgPlKfK8vDBx4GoNshYxUcXYTaeTTBVHHQcGlsON7x2qkTN4wQ7hsROy6nZ-nTrKOn4Bbzzz4b8XcKScMEMzrI2HPXT0BNZN/s2048/jeffrey-f-lin-nKcx6jbFE-A-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggvblOWBw_qrNkXk5_7QnGaT9x1tSOLRVzFQxx6exlvTCqBgPlKfK8vDBx4GoNshYxUcXYTaeTTBVHHQcGlsON7x2qkTN4wQ7hsROy6nZ-nTrKOn4Bbzzz4b8XcKScMEMzrI2HPXT0BNZN/s320/jeffrey-f-lin-nKcx6jbFE-A-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #2b00fe;">This is a repeat of a blog I wrote years ago, but today I ran into an amazing "Coach" that a lot of people may have never heard of. He's a coach for thousands of students and teachers and if you've never heard of <i>Move To Learn</i>, you need to check it out! I wanted to republish in honor of <b>Coach Calhoun</b>. Thank you for inspiring this old teacher again.</span><p></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">I'd like to dedicate this blog to some of the greatest people I know. They are called coaches.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">In the field of education, sometimes coaches get a bad rap. They are sometimes seen as lesser teachers, but I've got to give a shout out to some of the greatest teachers I know, and they go by the name "Coach".</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">This topic of "coaches" came up in a conversation just yesterday and I heard it put as well as I've ever heard it done. How many other people do we call by their job? Oh, there is Mr. President and Dr. So and So, but no one refers to me as Teacher Sumrall. You don't hear someone shout out, "Hey Secretary" or "Hi Engineer," but go out just about anywhere in town and when a young person (or one who at least ONCE was young) sees their coach, it's "Hey Coach!" It's a title of honor.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">Think about it. Few other people have the impact on a young person's life as does their "coach." While they may have a lot of great teachers through the years, many will have one coach who imparts into their lives for 2, 3, 4, even 5 or more years. I know of at least one coach who mentored my son for 4 years, beginning in Jr. High when my son didn't really even know how to tackle. That young man helped develop my son's talent and looked out for him, always steering my boy in the way he should go...even when he wasn't listening to his mom! Thank you, Coach.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">We even chose our current school location based on a coach. (That might sound strange coming from a teacher.) I asked around and discovered that while a lot of area coaches were great men, but one coach was described in this way. "Now Coach Wheat, that man builds character in his boys." No more had to be said. I know that football is just a game, but I also know that lessons learned out there on the field can be so much more if used correctly. My son isn't just learning plays, he's learning how to look out for others and be a man of character. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">My daughter had a coach for the short time she played basketball in Jr. High and she still refers to her as "Coach." I daresay Coach Missy had no idea the impact she made in my girl's life, but recently I saw a bunch of her former "players" coming together to honor her for being their coach in high school. Every young woman a stronger and better person (and player) thanks to her leadership.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" />There have been so many over the years who have poured into the lives of my children. Coach Langham had a way of making my daughter believe she could do anything (and was able to put up with her sarcastic wit like few others.) He also coached my son and gave advice that we still use today.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">There are so many on the team of coaches that help mentor my son. Coach Bryant has the "joy" of not only teaching Jr. High but also serving as basketball coach and track coach, traveling miles and miles just to watch our kids run miles and miles. He uses all that time to offer guidance on life, respect, and honor along with the regular coaching duties. (As a mom, I appreciate this SO much!)</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">I had a "coach" in my own life as well. I wasn't very athletic, but when I was in high school, we had a coach who was in charge of FCA. I listened to his guidance over the years and his words shaped me more than he could have ever known. I still think about some of the lessons he taught and it has been almost 40 years since I sat in those lunchtime meetings.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">Then there is my more recent "coach"...Coach Becky. How can someone look at a 48-year-old teacher coming out of the school at the end of the day and see potential? Or maybe it was just pity. Either way, I am so thankful that on that afternoon years ago she invited me to join them for a training run at the track. She has helped so many of us see ourselves as more than what we are to what we might be.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">So the next time you catch someone saying, "He's just a coach," remember that they are so much more. These individuals are making a difference that few others do. They see our children (and us) at their best and at their worst, and they inspire these kids to work as a TEAM, something our country could use more of.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">I am so thankful for these men and women that give time away from their own families to pour life and character into mine. You make a difference. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;">If you have been blessed by a coach, feel free to share this post and "tag" them. I know I will.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><br /></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"></span><span style="background-color: white; color: blue; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><i>1 Corinthians 9:25-27</i></span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><i>Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable. So I do not run aimlessly; I do not box as one beating the air. But I discipline my body and keep it under control, lest after preaching to others I myself should be disqualified.</i></span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, "Palatino Linotype", Palatino, serif; font-size: 15.84px;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, "Times New Roman", serif;"><i><br /></i></span></span></p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@jeffreyflin?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Jeffrey F Lin</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/coach?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a>
</p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-29959406556168190822021-03-21T10:41:00.000-05:002021-03-21T10:41:51.193-05:00Seeing things in a different way...<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj919ti2vqK3Xbt-8157ynivUyQzoqhyCmf7iDXT2bgojvpLiIGWrwMp2woEnxEVE2xT9RZ7US8vw97lAhyrxKzjPTuRkj7ufAwEkA99QJI1CD4oO-SMBonyhyphenhyphenKd7M5poLPgmjidANvkfyt/s2048/tim-j-Vrv_nZHaFTc-unsplash.jpg" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj919ti2vqK3Xbt-8157ynivUyQzoqhyCmf7iDXT2bgojvpLiIGWrwMp2woEnxEVE2xT9RZ7US8vw97lAhyrxKzjPTuRkj7ufAwEkA99QJI1CD4oO-SMBonyhyphenhyphenKd7M5poLPgmjidANvkfyt/s320/tim-j-Vrv_nZHaFTc-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />Ever hear something that makes you look at things in a totally different way? That happened this morning.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I was happily going my merry way - okay, I was begrudgingly getting dressed on the last day of my Spring Break, when I started hearing things about the word correction. Now, I will be the first to admit that I am someone who does NOT like correction. It's not that I think I'm perfect, but no one likes to think they are downright wrong. That's when the random thoughts started turning.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It started with me thinking about all the times I had corrected students' work. I would literally spend hours and hours pouring over essays, writing comments, writing questions, writing encouragement - all in an effort to make the writers' work better. Not saying they were wrong, but really trying to help them be clear with their ideas. I would have a few that would read the things I had written and come to me to work on their writing. Those were the precious few...more often I would encounter - "So what is my grade?" or even worse, those that would argue with me as if I had no right to think their writing was anything other than perfect. (Have you ever read a 6th grader's writing - it almost always has potential, but it is rarely perfect.) After a while, I grew weary of trying only to be met with indifference or worse, defiance. I guess when it comes to writing, it's difficult to see correction as an attempt to make things better.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I never had that problem when it came to running. I was blessed to have a coach who saw in me something I could not and worked to bring it out. She would watch my running style and see what I was doing that was keeping me from becoming the runner she believed I could be. She would correct my posture, even my speed when I would try to go too fast, knowing I would burn myself out before I reached my potential. For some reason, I didn't see correction as a bad thing then. She was always right - able to see what I could not and using the experience I did not have.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">My thoughts then moved to my son when he first started playing football. The first time he tried to tackle another player, he quickly learned that he needed to improve. He was given the directive to tackle a boy we later called, "the bowling ball with legs" and immediately bounced back from the would-be tackle onto his rear. He needed correction/instruction on his form. Thankfully he listened (being knocked back onto your rear has a way of doing that,) and he became quite the force to be reckoned with on the football field. Rarely did he try a tackle that didn't stop the opponent in his tracks and rarely was he successfully brought down by fewer than 3 or 4 players working together. Thinking about his personality now, I realize how thankful I am that God placed people in his life that he will listen to...because like most young men, he's almost always certain that he is right.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">All these thoughts came together to help me see that I've been thinking of correction incorrectly all these years. (Yes, I see that wordplay.) Correction is not simply showing you where you wrong, but it is showing you how you can be better. It is not harsh, it is in fact loving. The Bible even says that. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Hebrews 12 puts it this way, <b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;">"<span style="background-color: white;">My dear child, don’t shrug off God’s discipline,</span></span></i></b></span></p><div class="poetry" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em; margin-top: 1em; min-width: 0px; padding-left: 2.6em; position: relative;"><p class="line" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 2.4rem; margin-bottom: 0px; margin-left: 0px; margin-top: 0px; min-width: 0px;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia;"><b><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Heb-12-4-Heb-12-11" style="position: relative;">but don’t be crushed by it either.</span></span><br /><span class="text Heb-12-4-Heb-12-11" style="position: relative;">It’s the child he loves that he disciplines;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks" style="line-height: 0;"> </span><span class="text Heb-12-4-Heb-12-11" style="position: relative;">the child he embraces, he also corrects.</span></span></i></b></span></p></div><p class="first-line-none top-1" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 2.4rem; margin-top: 1em; min-width: 0px;"><span class="text Heb-12-4-Heb-12-11"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia;"><b><i>God is educating you; that’s why you must never drop out. He’s treating you as dear children. This trouble you’re in isn’t punishment; it’s training, the normal experience of children. Only irresponsible parents leave children to fend for themselves. Would you prefer an irresponsible God?"</i></b></span></span></p><p class="first-line-none top-1" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 2.4rem; margin-top: 1em; min-width: 0px;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="text Heb-12-4-Heb-12-11">In Proverbs 15 it's put this way, </span></span></p><p class="first-line-none top-1" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 2.4rem; margin-top: 1em; min-width: 0px;"><b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span class="text Heb-12-4-Heb-12-11">"</span>Whoever heeds life-giving correction </span><span style="font-family: georgia;">will be at home among the wise."</span></span></i></b></p><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Finally, in searching for a picture for today's post, I found the one with the glasses. Hmmm, I wear "corrective lenses" - specifically to help me see far away. I don't think of them as punishment, but rather as help. Without them, I wouldn't be able to do a lot of things I take for granted! Again, a positive "point of view" on "correction." </span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Now, being the person I am, I have to admit these thoughts scare me. Usually, something like this is preparing me for what is to come. I don't know that I can say I look forward to it, but hopefully, I will be able to see it for what it is...the Lord isn't finished with me yet and He's working on making me better equipped for His purpose.</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;">Just a few random thoughts on the last day of Spring Break...</span></span></div><div><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></span></div><div>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@the_roaming_platypus?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Tim J</a> on <a href="/s/photos/correction?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a>
</div>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-4952541756517813812021-03-03T03:31:00.000-06:002021-03-03T03:31:15.489-06:00Let the Truth be told...<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3jyDTp_Q7fyyaOl_tLa7uUcgOfir7gA0S7kX0yf4qkqVYRkq4DRTtR5Mzn4-S7EVAQf1s8W1euse_Vcwo65zMfjiHkUNpMsws0Bxx6-LVm3UgV_siHPaSyIlijlWfWArPuVAR0ScjVwL/s2048/michael-carruth-m_tnGfoHeko-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1367" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjG3jyDTp_Q7fyyaOl_tLa7uUcgOfir7gA0S7kX0yf4qkqVYRkq4DRTtR5Mzn4-S7EVAQf1s8W1euse_Vcwo65zMfjiHkUNpMsws0Bxx6-LVm3UgV_siHPaSyIlijlWfWArPuVAR0ScjVwL/s320/michael-carruth-m_tnGfoHeko-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /> It's 2:30 in the morning and I just woke up from a sound sleep. I've always heard that if that happens, God is waking you to pray.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">To be honest, I didn't want to. My prayers lately feel weak and ineffective, but I started to pray anyway...for my kids, finances, my family, whatever came to mind. That's when a phrase started rolling around in my head. It's based on my one word/phrase for the year. Truth.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Seems like it's getting harder and harder to find truth in our world. Somewhere along the way, people believed the lie that TRUTH is relative - different for everyone. But if it's subjective, then how can it be Truth? I understand that everyone can have an experience that is true for them, but that's not the same as Truth with a capital T.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I won't make this long - I'm honestly hoping to go back to sleep, but I felt like I HAD to write this down...we'll see where it goes.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I know for the past year I have felt lied to and outside of my family and closest friends, have felt like I didn't know who to trust anymore. My government, the media, you know - those that seem to run things and often have the loudest voices. But it's time to start praying for the TRUTH to be told. It's time to embrace Truth and for that to happen, we have got to first let go of the lies. Our arms are full of them - lies we tell ourselves, lies we tell others, lies that run our lives. And it's time to say enough.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">It's time to let go of all the lies and embrace, hold tight, to the truth.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">How does that happen? I'm not sure...but I do know it begins with me. It begins with me being honest with myself and those around me. No little fibs as the kids call them - let's call them what they are. Lies - from the father of lies. They creep in quietly and set up root and before you know it, they try to crowd out the truth. They masquerade as Truth, but they are merely experiences or feelings - both of which can lie to us.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">So...starting now, I'm letting go of the lies and I'm embracing Truth. I will do my best to make my words honest and true in every situation both to myself and others. I know I don't have to be harsh, in fact, I should speak the truth in love...that means with kindness, not judgment. I'm in no position to judge.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I'm not sure what this will look like, but I know it's right. And that is my middle of the night prayer that I am sharing.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Lord, </b></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Bring the Truth to the surface and help us embrace that which is True, Honest, and Just.</b></span></p><p><b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia;">Philippians 4:8 KJV</span></i></b></p><p><b><i><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia;">Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.</span></i></b></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b>Amen</b>...and good night.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">P.S. In searching for a photo to use with this blog, I was struck by how many showed a Bible as a picture of Truth...thought I'd share...</span></p><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVVUKR9fGNCH_TkE7THfNDyQK1mgULrXq_xu4qRt_IwxY1JcIWJ9EBqtQaowdytao8-aGz6SCm7C8fzNMFFwSlDQkpY9KqCtlgiGAXzOaCoPkQkj8A8inzO0dEIkJsi3S_IE9XTNohKLZU/s2048/timothy-eberly-U4UwzRSns6M-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVVUKR9fGNCH_TkE7THfNDyQK1mgULrXq_xu4qRt_IwxY1JcIWJ9EBqtQaowdytao8-aGz6SCm7C8fzNMFFwSlDQkpY9KqCtlgiGAXzOaCoPkQkj8A8inzO0dEIkJsi3S_IE9XTNohKLZU/s320/timothy-eberly-U4UwzRSns6M-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p>Bible Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@timothyeberly?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Timothy Eberly</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/truth?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></p><p>Truth Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@michaelcarruth?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Michael Carruth</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/truth?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-3540157398357550562021-01-03T18:24:00.000-06:002021-01-03T18:24:00.095-06:00Write that I...<p><span style="font-family: georgia;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2c-B3DnPFaxZH6-XLrBs-VaJ47g5fsy1FmvuajDiNrGs4uwOXa4IK0-aMewWbVGmHWwKYxd_o64_YZO3RsL8uNV9NAUanQxjbyt6FJSx08yhiySRqhnH_cNnGAS2T1KdSOuZHTBAWzruS/s2048/green-chameleon-s9CC2SKySJM-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2c-B3DnPFaxZH6-XLrBs-VaJ47g5fsy1FmvuajDiNrGs4uwOXa4IK0-aMewWbVGmHWwKYxd_o64_YZO3RsL8uNV9NAUanQxjbyt6FJSx08yhiySRqhnH_cNnGAS2T1KdSOuZHTBAWzruS/s320/green-chameleon-s9CC2SKySJM-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br />It's that time of year. Time to clear out "stuff" that you've kept too long. Time to simplify. That's what I spent this afternoon doing. I found a couple of old notebooks that I'd written in - for now I'll focus on one. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I had the privilege of attending the TOLI program for Holocaust Studies a few years ago and I found my notebook from that study. Inside were two poems - one personal and one written in response to a video of Irving Roth. It was an assignment that could be used in the classroom - but I'll share mine here. Why? Because I don't want them to stay inside that notebook and never be shared, especially the one written in response to Irving Roth's story.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><b><span style="font-size: medium;">Write that I...</span></b><i>(personal poem - I think I was thinking of my kids when I wrote this)</i></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">When you write my story,</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>write that I brought hope.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Write that I saw beauty in the dark places</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>and that I helped you see it too.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Write that I wanted to see you walk with God</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>in ways that I could only imagine.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">That I believed in you and His purpose in you.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>Write that I trusted Him to guide you </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>because I knew I would fail - and yet still I tried.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Write that I loved you more than life.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><br /></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><i>Now for the one written in response to Irving Roth's story. He is a Holocaust survivor. (Here's a link to one version on Youtube - <a href="https://youtu.be/nbY3rCHtEfQ">Irving Roth</a>)</i></span></p><p><b><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: large;">Write that I...</span></b></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Write that I was a child - just a child.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">I loved to run and play and life was good</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>oh so good.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The whole world was my oyster - what could possibly go wrong?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>The Nazi's - that's what could go wrong.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Write that it started slowly - I don't think anyone saw -</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>Didn't anyone see?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">They took away our humanity.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">At the park - Jews and dogs not allowed?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Don't go out at night - it's for my own safety?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Wear this star - so that all might know me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>Don't you mean so that they might forget my name?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Write that they took my friends and left us to wonder where they had gone.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">They forced us to run to safety - only no place was really safe.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Only a few would stand up for us - the rest just turned away.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>Turned us over.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span><span> </span>Turned and pretended it was not their concern.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">After all - we were no more than animals with stars by now. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>We didn't even have a name.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Write that I was found and taken away - like a dog to the pound.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">My grandparents were "cared for" and taken to the showers, </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>but that meant I never saw them again.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The final blow - I am a number now. Do they expect me to forget my own name?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">There is not hope - until...</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">One man - a prisoner like me - </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>brought thought back into our reach. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">The wires faded away and for a moment we were free.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Only a moment, for as far as I could see, the world has forgotten -</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>gone blind to what anyone can see - lost its morality.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Write that I didn't believe in miracles anymore - </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>but thank God the miracles still hadn't given up on me.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;">Write that a few looked up to see</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"><span> </span><span> </span>and because of them, I lived to tell you</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia;"> <i><b> </b><b>look up and see.</b></i></span></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-73416542956831083712020-12-31T18:33:00.002-06:002020-12-31T18:33:12.779-06:00One word for 2021<p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYGp9M4ZHcIctAMQT8qW7q1M3BxKAlGdwjBIwtTvp4zD6q1BmX-XUQobKVV-19aDiQirVgYAWyPaQ7-UnZlbuuESjkIwdjmAFEz_-8e01lxVfVyccPrcdXPs1zBLeW689uuoWdw_DRH_c/s2048/immo-wegmann-U2sp_4k9gIc-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1590" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBYGp9M4ZHcIctAMQT8qW7q1M3BxKAlGdwjBIwtTvp4zD6q1BmX-XUQobKVV-19aDiQirVgYAWyPaQ7-UnZlbuuESjkIwdjmAFEz_-8e01lxVfVyccPrcdXPs1zBLeW689uuoWdw_DRH_c/s320/immo-wegmann-U2sp_4k9gIc-unsplash.jpg" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br />Every year I choose "one word" to focus on for the coming year. Resolutions are tricky. Once you've blown it with a resolution, it's over! But one word that serves as a focus for the year - well that's much more doable! It acts as a beacon in the storms of the year and helps guide you. It amazes me how accurate each word has been when I look back at the previous year. </span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I find that I do best when I let the word "choose me." Somehow it's just a word that rolls around in my mind for days or weeks prior to the new year. I don't have to think much about it - it just keeps popping into my view as the new year approaches.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">One year my word was "hope" - and that year hope was exactly what we needed when my husband's company abruptly closed its doors and he went 6 months looking for another job. Hope definitely carried us that year. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">One year my word was "move" and while I thought it meant I'd get back to running, that was the year I changed schools and started teaching at a small country school in the district that I really knew nothing about! So thankful for the blessings that came with that word.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">This year my word was "good" - that's right. 2020's word was "good" and while it's easy to find all the ways it was NOT good, I believe that God is somehow still working it all out for our good. All of it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I will admit I'm ready for 2020 to be over. Most of the year has simply been a blur. I did learn some good things - like how to eat "keto" which has had a huge impact on helping me with diabetes management. I learned how to grow plants - not a lot of them, but for someone with a brown thumb, I was pretty happy about it. I learned a LOT about how to teach online and have even been able to tutor students after school thanks to zoom. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Mostly I've learned to roll with whatever comes. We all have. I started to write about a lot of crazy things that have happened this year, but everyone could probably use their own lists...and how somehow it has all turned out for good. Really. Through it all, it's all been good.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">This brings me to this year's word. At first, I thought I knew what it would be - "<i>trust</i>". Of course, with my history of what words mean, that word worried me a bit. Visions of trust freefalls came to mind! But as we get closer to saying goodbye to 2020 and hello to 2021, another word keeps rolling in my mind - "<i>truth</i>".</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b>Trust</b> - "<span style="background-color: #fafafa;">Firm belief in the integrity, ability, or character of a person or thing; confidence or reliance. Okay, that sounds about right. I know that my trust is in God and I rely on Him.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: #fafafa;"><b>Truth</b> - Now that's a tricky one. It has become popular to say that everyone has their own "truth" but that is absolute poppycock! Everyone has their own experience, but that does not make it truth. How many times have we watched those shows that show what happened from each person's point of view and none of them is actually accurate? They experienced something, but perhaps it was not true to <i>all</i> that was going on. There is so much more.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><span style="background-color: white;">Jesus describes himself as the way, the truth, and the life, and as such he is the only means to the Father. </span><span style="background-color: white;">For Paul, truth is the message of God that all of humanity has repressed ( </span><a href="http://www.biblestudytools.com/romans/1-18.html" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px !important; text-decoration-line: none !important;" url="/romans/1-18.html">Rom 1:18</a><span style="background-color: white;"> ) and exchanged ( </span><a href="http://www.biblestudytools.com/romans/1-25.html" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; outline: 0px !important; text-decoration-line: none !important;" url="/romans/1-25.html">1:25</a><span style="background-color: white;"> ) for a lie, in that they have directed their worship not to the Creator, but to the creation. Ultimately, "truth" is God and His Word. </span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">So perhaps this year, my one word is actually two. "Trust Truth." That's not that different from what I originally thought it would be since I knew that my trust must lie in God and what He says. But I have to wonder, how much richer and more defined will these words be by this time next year.</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Goodbye, 2020. You have been tough, but somehow through it all God has brought good from you. Hello, 2021 - I trust that Truth will prevail!</span></span></p><p><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">What will your word for the coming year be?</span></span></p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@macroman?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Immo Wegmann</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/new-years?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-70780567500254725662020-12-19T09:17:00.000-06:002020-12-19T09:17:25.419-06:00We're different now...<div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip9N9W5t235i9PvARVeKNEnLdmumHJUF3gFCKIJYo6uvWkYJ5QUS_zbL_hogD9vZpRPYjpUEBm-qBgJwjukDq4PxU3eaqWzLGxYV8x1H2oAUieu__3KvMT1JBzYQlIIINLvnyeBvNo5-QM/s2048/ryan-franco-XECZHb6NoFo-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1366" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip9N9W5t235i9PvARVeKNEnLdmumHJUF3gFCKIJYo6uvWkYJ5QUS_zbL_hogD9vZpRPYjpUEBm-qBgJwjukDq4PxU3eaqWzLGxYV8x1H2oAUieu__3KvMT1JBzYQlIIINLvnyeBvNo5-QM/s320/ryan-franco-XECZHb6NoFo-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><br />2020 has affected us all in many ways - most that don't show on the outside. I know this now. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">It has made us harder - or maybe more resilient - or maybe just more able to roll with the punches.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">For example - this morning I slept late (6:30) and was awakened by the dog to be let out. Okay - no problem. I need to get up, have coffee, and do some cleaning before going to get groceries.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I'm halfway through my cup of coffee when I start to smell something - something not at all pleasant. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Long story short(ish), some time last night after we'd gone to bed, one of the dogs needed to go out but being the sweet pups that they are, they didn't wake us up. Instead, he/she found a corner and relieved themself...and also underneath the Christmas tree next to the chair they always sleep in. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Whatever they had eaten did NOT agree with them and left a runny, quickly hardening mess. THEN - one of them (the boy dog) evidently stepped in said "late-night gift" while getting down from the chair and proceeded to run around the house this morning. That was what I "smelled".</span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Thanks to 2020, all this did not even phase me. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">I just started cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning, and cleaning - did I mention he ran all over the house? </span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Now, I have a nice clean floor for the weekend and I'm fairly certain, thanks to my keen sense of smell, that I do not have covid.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">On a side note: if my family HAPPENS to get me a new broom and mop for Christmas, I won't be offended. </span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">2020 does that to a person.</span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; color: #050505; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br /></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><i>Romans 8:28</i></b></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><i><span style="white-space: normal;">And we know that in all things God works for the good</span><span style="white-space: normal;"> of those who love him, who</span><span class="footnote" data-fn="#fen-NIV-28145a" data-link="[<a href="#fen-NIV-28145a" title="See footnote a">a</a>]" style="display: inline; line-height: normal; position: relative; top: auto; vertical-align: text-top; white-space: normal;">[<a href="https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans%208%3A28&version=NIV#fen-NIV-28145a" style="background-color: transparent; box-sizing: border-box; min-width: 0px; vertical-align: text-top;" title="See footnote a">a</a>]</span><span style="white-space: normal;"> have been called</span><span style="white-space: normal;"> according to his purpose.</span></i></b></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><b><i><span style="white-space: normal;"><br /></span></i></b></span></div><div dir="auto" style="animation-name: none !important; background-color: white; transition-property: none !important; white-space: pre-wrap;">Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@ryanmfranco?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Ryan Franco</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/whatever-expression?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></div>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-69238924361826051012020-12-12T20:18:00.000-06:002020-12-12T20:18:05.596-06:002020 can still be "good"<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxGdNoxwgGmAzfLSZ5kjYURWf5iYF-eIAj3yowE2WRIgofu0tle3WsLkdTnP-DhhTf7oPgRzhEUBVJuajqXorwALI1skCrHv3n3xPmTNf9DKJZu6jT0fIh9y_AUFCe9axIHxT1gfGBv_jf/s2048/aziz-acharki-alANOC4E8iM-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1365" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxGdNoxwgGmAzfLSZ5kjYURWf5iYF-eIAj3yowE2WRIgofu0tle3WsLkdTnP-DhhTf7oPgRzhEUBVJuajqXorwALI1skCrHv3n3xPmTNf9DKJZu6jT0fIh9y_AUFCe9axIHxT1gfGBv_jf/s320/aziz-acharki-alANOC4E8iM-unsplash.jpg" /></a></div><br />I've written before that my one word for 2020 was the word, "Good". While it seems that 2020 has been anything but good, I still believe that there is time to turn this year around.<p></p><p>At my school, a small little middle school in Mississippi, we have a service day planned for this coming week. In years past, we have sent students all around the city and surrounding community to give middle school students a taste of what it means to volunteer and help others. We've gone to nursing homes, places that serve the homeless, places that serve those in need - lots of places to help them see that they can make a difference in their world.</p><p>Of course, this year is different. Am I the only one tired of that word, 'different'? This year we can't put students on cheese-wagons and take them around the surrounding areas to paint, sort, clean, etc. to help others. So our innovative administration is thinking outside the box and finding ways our kids can help others. Because it's in helping others that we find our own purpose, our own joy.</p><p>So, I'd like to invite you to join us in helping others. Maybe for you, it will be doing something like what I recently read about and you'll "pay it forward" by paying for the person in line behind you in McDonald's. Recently in a small town, customers at a McDonald's started sharing the love to the tune of over 900 people paying it forward! Can you begin to imagine the difference that made? Over 900 people changed the day of the person traveling behind them with a small act of kindness! </p><p>As I shared that story with my students, I reminded them that THEY are in control of how 2020 ends. I'll admit that so far, 2020 has not been what I'd imagined and certainly not what I'd have called "good". But there is still time to change all that. There is still time to make 2020 "good".</p><p>Our students have the opportunity to help out a place called Worthy Stables - a wonderful place that helps people with disabilities or people suffering from PTSD or those locked inside the trauma that would try to take their lives.</p><p>They have the chance to donate to Petal Children's Task Force and help kids, just like them who need food or help with school or a hundred other things.</p><p>They have the chance to help with Fieldhouse for the Homeless and help those who never imagined that one day they would live in a tent without a home or a job or the things so many of us take for granted.</p><p>They have the chance to brighten the day of those in nursing homes with cards and video concerts and small acts that let people there know they are not forgotten. </p><p>They have a chance to make a difference in 2020.</p><p>And so do you. Maybe you'll dig into your purse and find some loose change to donate to the red kettle as you leave the store. Maybe you'll check out some of the charities I'll list below and make a donation. (One of my favorites is Worthy Stables!) Maybe you'll pay for the person behind you in the line at McDonald's. Maybe you'll find a way to make 2020 a lot less yuck and end it with a lot more hope. </p><p>You make a difference. You really do. Don't' give up hope. 2020 can still be a year of "good".</p><p>Don't forget to check out some of the places that you can give this year and make a difference!</p><p><a href="https://www.worthystables.org/our-current-programs">Worthy Stables</a><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.petalchildrenstaskforce.org/">Petal Children's Task Force</a><br /></p><p><a href="https://www.facebook.com/hattiesburgfieldhouse/">Fieldhouse for the Homeless</a><br /></p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@acharki95?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Aziz Acharki</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/good?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-90659328275277823312020-12-12T08:17:00.004-06:002020-12-12T08:17:36.650-06:00Temporary home<p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"> </span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_kzD56vYBg8keZ-wPX_a4Y7w0g7Bo-E6jibIaDB_NvR0gLC7cy1C5uLyw3-XqbCwMupXdl77rx7IJfKQMLCiHpUu6K6Q0JZe3kqKPsLRRmbZrfRahyphenhyphenpbG6Ow6Zp8K6F0rQO0aWYooJ-S4/s2048/priscilla-du-preez-nF8xhLMmg0c-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1365" data-original-width="2048" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_kzD56vYBg8keZ-wPX_a4Y7w0g7Bo-E6jibIaDB_NvR0gLC7cy1C5uLyw3-XqbCwMupXdl77rx7IJfKQMLCiHpUu6K6Q0JZe3kqKPsLRRmbZrfRahyphenhyphenpbG6Ow6Zp8K6F0rQO0aWYooJ-S4/s320/priscilla-du-preez-nF8xhLMmg0c-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><br />Do you ever wake up from one of those weird dreams and immediately start wondering what that was all about? No, I'm not talking about the dinosaurs dancing in tutus kind of weird, I'm talking about...well, let me just recount the dream.</span><p></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Yesterday I woke up from one of those dreams that make you wonder. The dream featured some old friends that we haven't seen in literally decades other than occasionally on Facebook. It seems we were hosting a dinner party and for some reason, we were having it at their house. There were lots of people and of course my friends and dogs - lots of family dogs. Oh, and of course tons of kids running around. Everyone was having a great time, dogs would put their paws on the counter to sniff the food but even they were being polite - looking but not swiping off the counter. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">At some point, I went to put something on the stove and noticed that the wall behind the stove was scarred - that's the only way I can figure to explain it. It had been through years of something - maybe bad or sloppy cooking or something - anyway, the wallpaper (yes, wallpaper) behind the stove was sort of messed up and scarred. I thought as I put my pot on the stove to warm that it was odd that my friends hadn't tried to fix it, or at least cover it up with some sort of decorative something. I know I would have.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Then I heard my friends talking and they were saying how they were actually just renting this house. It was temporary and soon they would be moving into their new house and how excited they were about it. This home had some great features - lots of storage space, etc. and they were very comfortable in it but, well, the conversation faded out after that, or maybe I just don't remember it. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">There were other bits and pieces but that stove and what they had said were what really stuck with me after I woke up. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">How weird. Wonder what that was all about?</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Then, on the way to work, it hit me. My friends were very comfortable in their temporary home and made no real effort to hide the flaws because it wasn't theirs. Oh, they kept it very clean and welcoming, but things like the scarred wall behind the stove weren't theirs to fix. They were concentrating on putting their resources into the new home that was being built. </span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">Me, myself, this body I live in is <i><b>my</b></i> temporary home. It's got some scars from use and misuse, and while I would probably try to hide those scars with something, it's really not worth spending too much time even thinking about. I'm sort of just "renting" this place out till my new home is move-in ready. The things that I think will embarrass me if they are seen aren't really worth spending time on. I do my best to keep things up, but this is an old place filled with lots of years of wear and tear. Instead of spending time worrying about it, I should spend my time enjoying the people around me and really living in this temporary home right now...wrinkles and scars and all.</span></p><p><span style="font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;">So, there you have it. One weird dream and what I got from it. Oh, one more thing. When I got to school, one of my students was wearing a sweatshirt that read, "Embrace the awesome that you are!" I thought that was a pretty appropriate conclusion. I'm going to embrace the "storage space" I have and every part of this temporary home while I'm here. </span></p><p><span style="color: #2b00fe; font-family: georgia; font-size: medium;"><i><b>Hebrews 13:14 (NLT) "<span style="background-color: white;">For this world is not our home; we are looking forward to our everlasting home in heaven."</span></b></i></span></p><p><br /></p><p><br /></p><p>Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@priscilladupreez?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Priscilla Du Preez</a> on <a href="https://unsplash.com/s/photos/family-gathering?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></p>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-22018803587782435262020-07-01T16:09:00.000-05:002020-07-01T16:09:14.337-05:00A change is in order...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAZOiOxH3Nz_N4fqp1ZqnPD09H5zR-qj80hZjCE0W9f6liCTHJMK2RdMf2OW-Is2nWFt-28_KdoundJdU3Xzqj34hd_YZAPkikEGmu7pvyY67gwFM2I36QQoE14hyphenhyphentDw1DC7nj31TDclX/s1600/thumbnail_IMG_5218.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="640" data-original-width="438" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAZOiOxH3Nz_N4fqp1ZqnPD09H5zR-qj80hZjCE0W9f6liCTHJMK2RdMf2OW-Is2nWFt-28_KdoundJdU3Xzqj34hd_YZAPkikEGmu7pvyY67gwFM2I36QQoE14hyphenhyphentDw1DC7nj31TDclX/s320/thumbnail_IMG_5218.jpg" width="219" /></a></div>
I have lived in this house for...Dale, how long have we lived here? Since 1999? That long? Okay, we've lived here for over 20 years and in that time we have pretty much always been backdoor kind of people. Everyone always entered through the carport...kids, friends, UPS deliveries. But recently, I had cause to question what we've done for over 20 years.<br />
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It all started with a sweet family moving in across the street. We'll call them the "J's" for their privacy and because we all know I'm lousy with names. They came across the street and to our front door - well, that makes sense. We have a walkway to the door, a wreath on the door, and it is the <i>front</i> door. Of course, I went around and invited them in through the carport door. A few days later, they came again to the front door. I reminded them we usually use the carport door and we laughed. Then a few days later, "Mom" came and this time she came to the carport door. Success!<br />
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I looked around my kitchen - of course, there were dishes in the sink and a couple of pans on the stove. Not a big problem, but it all got me thinking. Why <i>don't</i> we use the front door?<br />
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So, I went and had a look at our front door. My goodness, the front porch and walkway needed a good sweeping and there were some cobwebs in the corner that needed to come down. I took care of that in short order only to notice that the bushes next to the front door had certainly gotten out of hand; those had to be cut back! So I started cutting and it quickly became evident that at least one of those bushes needed to be removed. In case you wonder, azaleas are NOT easy to remove!<br />
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This idea was swiftly becoming more difficult than I had anticipated. I dug out that azalea and planted a pot of pretty little flowers to place near the door. It's still a long way from where I want it, but it is starting to look more welcoming. Still, it needed one more thing. Something that said people were <i>welcome</i> at my FRONT door. So, I made one of those "Welcome" boards from an old scrap we had leftover from a project.<br />
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But why all this work? Why not just do things like I've always done them?<br />
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Because something has changed. I started looking at things in a new way. And I had a <i>reason</i> to change. Two precious little girls now live across the street from "Ms Donna" and I want them to always feel free to visit. I don't want them to have to leave sight of their own front porch in order to come to my door. I want them to feel "safe" to approach.<br />
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All this got me thinking; the world is changing and maybe we need to make some changes to deal with it all. Maybe it's time to look at what we've always done and see if it allows others to freely approach us. It's time to clear away old ideas or habits that shut us off from those who don't really know us so that they can <b><i>get</i></b> to know us!<br />
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There has never been a time when we were more in need of "opening our doors" to conversation and getting to know each other. My prayer is that I can let go of old habits and approach the need with open hands and a welcome. I want my countenance to be filled with peace and calm, free of debris and cobwebs of misconceptions. What people will find "inside" hasn't changed, but at least now it's a lot more welcoming and there's a chance that friendships will develop along the way.<br />
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And it all started with a visit from a new neighbor...make that a new friend.Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-16547931069872151852020-06-29T13:05:00.003-05:002020-06-29T13:05:59.751-05:00Why are you always so happy?<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK6hxiqOcHSzU1YbYPMC_Zd5dBVd4x7ghinuMBCDnJ8oxlXX4gjemJCECXbjnG_l-rslUjlrNCSusu6IOlzmVB8Pp0TtzyEaHiN7-LhzG7xKTUB9kQE9CkaOfavtL33ni31C8VFlXHyPJ6/s1600/mi-pham-FtZL0r4DZYk-unsplash.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK6hxiqOcHSzU1YbYPMC_Zd5dBVd4x7ghinuMBCDnJ8oxlXX4gjemJCECXbjnG_l-rslUjlrNCSusu6IOlzmVB8Pp0TtzyEaHiN7-LhzG7xKTUB9kQE9CkaOfavtL33ni31C8VFlXHyPJ6/s320/mi-pham-FtZL0r4DZYk-unsplash.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Why are you always so happy? That's a question I get quite a lot. Honestly, I'm not sure but I've got some ideas...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I usually respond that it's the joy of the Lord and get back something along the lines of "Well, I've got that but not like you." I know they do, but it just shows in a different way than it does in me so I continue to explore - just why am I so happy?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's certainly not because life is easy and everyone around me is happy. My own children prove on a regular basis that my happiness is not shared by them, (although they both have a great sense of humor!) And life - well, it's 2020...enough said about that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Today I was struck by a random thought. Maybe I'm so happy because it makes me happy to be happy. It is what makes me tick. I LOOK for things to make me happy! It might be a flower I pass on my walk or a dog that greets me with a barking <i>"Go, Donna Go!" </i>as I pass their yard or a beautiful blue sky or a turtle that comes up to inspect my gardening - that one happened yesterday. I smiled about that for the rest of the time I spent out there sweating! There are a million little things that make me smile each day and being happy makes me happy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I know that there's a lot out there right now to make people unhappy - angry even. I recognize that there is pain and awful things in the world that try to steal our joy - things that just aren't right. But even in this, I know that somehow, someway, God is going to use this to bring about a good outcome and bring us closer to Him. I don't believe God causes the evil, but I do have the promise that which was meant for evil, God uses for good. (Genesis 50:20)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My students sometimes ask me if I watch ______ (usually a scary show) and I tell them no. I really do try to live by the verse that says whatsoever things are good, noble, pure - think on these things. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I realize all this sounds sort of "Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farms" and some would tend to believe that my "happiness" is an indicator of my lack of intelligence or that I just don't understand what is going on in the world. Maybe they are right, but I will tell you that it is hard work to be this happy. And I have my moments of sadness - and anger - but usually when they are the worst I realize I have spent way too much time looking at and listening to all that is wrong in the world instead of spending time listening to praise to the One who can make a difference. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Last night, I turned off the tv, put away the computer and Facebook, and picked up a book I haven't read in years. It was <i>Joshua and the Children</i> by Joseph Grizone. I love the Joshua series because it helps me refocus and think "What would Jesus do?" Not the slogan type WWJD, but really asking myself how can I react and act more like Him. It helped me refocus on "whatsoever."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So why am I so happy? I guess the answer is because it makes me happy and I like it that way. If you need a happiness boost, here's a song by Zach Williams to get you started: <a href="https://youtu.be/yOEviTLJOqo">don't let nothing steal your joy!</a></span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b><span class="versenum" style="background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">Philippians 4:8-9 </span><span style="background-color: white;">Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse. Put into practice what you learned from me, what you heard and saw and realized. Do that, and God, who makes everything work together, will work you into his most excellent harmonies.</span></b></i></span><br />
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Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@phammi?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">MI PHAM</a> on <a href="https://www.blogger.com/s/photos/joy?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-83534779898854363252020-06-26T14:05:00.000-05:002020-06-26T14:05:16.082-05:00a story from my childhood...The $5 Lawn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">There is a story that pops into my head from time to time and today, thanks to google, I finally found it again! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Too often we see people who want to know, "What's in it for me" or "How much will you pay me to do it?" This story is about so much more than money. It's about making yourself proud of the work you have done because you know you've done it to the very best you could do. And yes, it's about doing the impossible - and who could ever place a price tag on that.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It's a powerful story - how do I know? Well, it has stuck with me for about 50 years and I'm still learning from it today. </span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">The Countess and the Impossible</span></b></div>
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<b><i>(As I remember it, The $5 Lawn)</i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> </b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> No one in our <st1:place w:st="on"><st1:state w:st="on">Utah</st1:state></st1:place> town knew where the Countess had come from;<span class="GramE"> her </span></b><b>carefully precise English indicated that she was not a native American. From </b><b>the size of her house and staff we knew that she must be wealthy, but she </b><b>never entertained and she made it clear that when she was at home she was </b><b>completely inaccessible. Only when she stepped outdoors did she become at </b><b>all a public figure--and then chiefly to the small fry of the town, who lived in </b><b>awe of her.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "The countess always carried a cane not only for support but as a </b><b>means of chastising any youngster she thought needed disciplining. <span class="GramE">And at one time or another most of the kids in our neighborhood seemed to display that need.</span> By running fast and staying alert, I had managed to keep out of </b><b>her reach. But one day when I was about thirteen, as I was short-cutting </b><b>through her hedge, she got close enough to rap my head with her stick.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> <span class="GramE">"'Ouch!'</span> I yelled, jumping a couple of feet.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Young man, I want to talk to you,' she said. I was expecting a </b><b>lecture on the evils of trespassing, but as she looked at me, half-smiling, </b><b>she seemed to change her mind.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Don't you live in that green house with the willow trees in the next </b><b>block?'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Yes, <span class="GramE">ma'am</span>.' . . .</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> <span class="GramE">"'Good.</span> I've lost my gardener. Be at my house Thursday morning at </b><b>seven, and don't tell me you have something else to do; I've seen you </b><b>slouching around on Thursdays.'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "When the Countess gave an order, it was carried out. <span class="GramE">I didn't dare not come on that next Thursday.</span> I went over the whole lawn three times with a </b><b>mower before she was satisfied and then she had me down on all fours looking </b><b>for weeds until my knees were as green as the grass. She finally called me </b><b>up to the porch.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Well, young man, how much do you want for your day's work?'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'I don't know. <span class="GramE">Fifty cents, maybe.'</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Is that what you figure you're worth?"</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'<span class="SpellE">Yes'm</span>. <span class="GramE">About that.'</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> <span class="GramE">"'Very well.</span> Here's the fifty cents you say you're worth and here's the </b><b>dollar and a half more that I've earned for you by pushing you. Now I' m </b><b>going to tell you something about how you and I are going to work together. </b><b>There are as many ways of mowing a lawn as there are people, and they may be </b><b>worth anywhere from a penny to five dollars. Let's say that a three-dollar </b><b>job would be just what you have done today, except that you'd have to be </b><b>something of a fool to spend that much time on a lawn. A five-dollar lawn is </b><b>well, it's impossible, so we'll forget about that. Now then, each week I'm </b><b>going to pay you according to your own evaluation of your work.'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "I left with my two dollars, richer than I remembered being in my whole </b><b>life, and determined that I would get four dollars out of her the next week. </b><b>But I failed to reach even the three dollar mark. My will began to falter </b><b>the second time around her yard.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> <span class="GramE">"'Two dollars again, eh?</span> That kind of job puts you right on the edge of </b><b>being dismissed, young man.'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'<span class="SpellE">Yes'm</span>. But I'll do better next week.'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "And somehow I did. The last time around the lawn I was exhausted, but </b><b>I found I could spur myself on. In the exhilaration of that new feeling, I </b><b>had no hesitation in asking the Countess for three dollars.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "Each Thursday for the next four or five weeks, I varied between a </b><b>three and a three-and-a-half dollar job. The more I became more acquainted </b><b>with her lawn, places where the ground was a little high or a little low, </b><b>places where it needed to be clipped short or left long on the edges to make </b><b>a more satisfying curve along the garden, the more I became aware of just </b><b>what a four-dollar lawn would consist of. And each week I would resolve to </b><b>do just that kind of a job. But by the time I had made my three dollar or </b><b>three and-a-half dollar <span class="GramE">mark</span> I was too tired to remember even having had the </b><b>ambition to go beyond that.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'You look like a good consistent $3.50 man,'<span class="GramE"> she</span> would say as she </b><b>handed me the money.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'I guess so'<span class="GramE"> I</span> would say, too happy at the sight of the money to </b><b>remember that I had shot for something higher.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Well don't feel too bad,'<span class="GramE"> she</span> would comfort me. 'After all, there are </b><b>only a handful of people in the world who could do a four-dollar job.'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "And her words were a comfort at first, but then, without my noticing </b><b>what was happening, her comfort became an irritant that made me resolve to </b><b>do that four-dollar job, even if it killed me. In the fever of my resolve, I </b><b>could see myself expiring on her lawn, with the Countess leaning over me, </b><b>handing me the four dollars with a tear in her eye, begging my forgiveness</b><br /><b>for having thought I couldn't do it.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "It was in the middle of such a fever, one Thursday night when I was </b><b>trying to forget the day's defeat and get some sleep, that the truth hit me </b><b>so hard that I sat upright, half choking in my excitement. It was the </b><b>five-dollar job I had to do, not the four-dollar one! I had to do the job </b><b>that no one could do because it was impossible.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "I was well acquainted with the difficulties ahead. I had the problem, </b><b>for example, of doing something about the worm mounds in the lawn. The </b><b>Countess might not even have noticed them yet, they were so small; but in my </b><b>bare feet I knew about them and I had to do something about them. And I </b><b>could go on trimming the garden edges with shears, but I knew that a </b><b>five-dollar lawn demanded that I line up each edge exactly with a yardstick </b><b>and then trim it precisely with the edger. And there were other problems </b><b>that only I and my bare feet knew about.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "I started the next Thursday by ironing out the worm mounds with a </b><b>heavy roller. After two hours of that I was ready to give up for the day. </b><st1:time hour="9" minute="0" w:st="on"><b>Nine o'clock</b></st1:time><b> in the morning, and my will was already gone! It was only by </b><b>accident that I discovered how to regain it. Sitting under a walnut tree for </b><b>a few minutes after finishing the rolling, I fell asleep. When I woke up </b><b>minutes later, the lawn looked so good and felt so good under my feet, I was </b><b>anxious to get on with the job.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "I followed this secret for the rest of the day, dozing for a few </b><b>minutes every hour to regain my perspective and replenish my strength. </b><b>Between naps, I mowed four times, two times lengthwise, two times across, </b><b>until the lawn looked like a green velvet checkerboard. Then I dug around </b><b>every tree, crumbling the big clods and smoothing the soil with my hands, </b><b>then finished with the edger, meticulously lining up each stroke so that the </b><b>effect would be perfectly symmetrical. And I carefully trimmed the grass </b><b>between the flagstones of the front walk. The shears wore my fingers raw, </b><b>but the walk never looked better.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "Finally about <st1:time hour="8" minute="0" w:st="on">eight o'clock</st1:time> that evening it was all completed. I was </b><b>so proud I didn't even feel tired when I went up to her door.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Well, what is it today?' <span class="GramE">she</span> asked.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Five dollars,'<span class="GramE"> I</span> said, trying for a little calm and sophistication.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> <span class="GramE">"'Five dollars?</span> You mean four dollars, don't you? I told you that a </b><b>five-dollar lawn job isn't possible.'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Yes it is. I just did it.'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Well, young man, the first five-dollar lawn in history certainly </b><b>deserves some looking around.'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "We walked about the lawn together in the light of evening, and even I </b><b>was quite overcome by the impossibility of what I had done.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'Young man, she said, putting her hand on my shoulder, 'what on earth </b><b>made you do such a crazy, wonderful thing?'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "I didn't know why, but even if I had, I could not have explained it in </b><b>the excitement of hearing that I had done it.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'I think I know,' she continued, 'how you felt when this idea first </b><b>came to you of caring for a lawn that I told you was impossible. It made you </b><b>very happy when it first came, then a little frightened. Am I right?'</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "She could see she was right by the startled look on my face.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "'I know how you felt because the same thing happens to almost </b><b>everyone. They feel this sudden burst in them of wanting to do some great </b><b>thing. They feel a wonderful happiness but then it passes because they have </b><b>said,<span class="GramE"> "</span>No, I can't do that. It's impossible." <i>Whenever something in you </i></b><i><b>says, "It's impossible," remember to take a careful look and see if it isn't </b><b>really God asking you to grow an inch, or a foot, or a mile, that you may </b><b>come to a fuller life.' </b>(Emphasis mine.)</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b> "Since that time, some 25 years ago, when I have felt myself at an end </b><b>with nothing before me, suddenly, with the appearance of that word, </b><b>'impossible,' I have experienced the unexpected lift, the leap inside me, </b><b>and known that the only possible way lay through the very middle of </b><b>impossible."</b><br /> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"> <span class="GramE"><span style="font-size: x-small;">(Richard Thurman, "The Countess and the Impossible," Reader's Digest, June 1958.)</span></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE"><br /></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE">How many of us would have quit - said the old lady is crazy and unfair and selfish? How many of us would have short-circuited what God was doing in this boy's life by saying something along the lines of "It's okay, you tried so here's $5"? How many times in my own life have I done less than my best and said, "That's good enough." And how many times have I started and then given up because it was difficult?</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE">Funny thing is, in my devotional time today I read about David fighting a battle (1 Samuel 30 - trust me, this all fits together) and the devotional made the point that "assured victory does not mean easy wins." God told David in advance he would "certainly overtake them and succeed in the rescue" but then we read that it was a difficult battle full of hard work, non-stop fighting over a 24 hour period, and over 400 escaped. </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE">"God often gives us a victory that requires blood, sweat, and tears...When He can bring about a victory and strengthen and mature us all at the same time, He's likely to do it....God's idea of a victory has virtually nothing to do with plunder. It has to do with people. What comes out of a battle isn't nearly as important as who comes out of a battle." (Beth Moore, A Heart Like His study, page 81.)</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE">During all that is going on in the world today, I believe God is working in us to achieve so much more than we see and I believe He will bring us through stronger and more mature than ever if we'll just let Him. It may not be easy, but it will definitely be worth it.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE">And that will be a story worth retelling.</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="GramE"><br /></span></span></div>
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Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@mattseymour?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Matt Seymour</a> on <a href="https://www.blogger.com/s/photos/lawn-mower?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a></div>
Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-75569977301163497802020-06-16T09:38:00.002-05:002020-06-16T09:38:56.554-05:00mean people...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I would have titled this "mean girls," but that might have been some sort of copyright infringement, so...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I'm not sure why this story came to mind this morning, but it seems to be calling out to be written, so here goes.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">This true story happened when I was five years old and honestly not much different than I am now. Loud, excited, and in love with the world. I could do <i>anything</i>! Everyone I met was a potential new friend. And on that day, I was starting something new and exciting - dance class! I - well - my mom, had shoved my pudgy legs into tights and put on tap shoes for my next big adventure! What little girl doesn't get excited about dance! (Keep in mind, this was so long ago, I probably thought I'd be the next Shirley Temple - another little girl who was in love with life and saw everyone as a potential friend.)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't remember a lot of things nowadays, but this moment in time is pretty well etched in my mind. I stood in line with all the other little girls and waited for class to begin. The teacher stepped out of the room with all the other adults for some reason. Back then, we were often left alone while adults did "adult things" and were trusted to not destroy the world or each other.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I knew no one - not a good situation for a kid who likes to talk, especially to someone else. So, I did what any little kid would do. I tapped the shoulder of the girl standing beside me so I could say "Hi!" and begin my newest friendship. After all, everyone loved me!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That's when it happened. This mountain of a girl, (at least I remember her as being HUGE) turned around and said, "Watch who you're shoving!" and pushed me HARD! Maybe it was because I was wearing tap shoes or maybe I was just totally uncoordinated, I don't know, but for some reason her shove caused me to fall face <i>forward</i>. It all happened so fast, my hands didn't have a chance to break my fall, but no worries - I stopped my downward momentum with my face. That's right - my little five-year-old face hit that tile floor full force.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I had no idea what had just happened. I'm pretty sure I realized I didn't have a new friend, but I also thought I had done something wrong. This was NOT the reaction I expected. I pulled myself up to my feet just as the teacher came back into the room telling us to get back in line and stand up straight...so I did. I shoved down the tears and closed my mouth and stood up straight. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I think that's when she looked at me and saw something wasn't quite right. Maybe it was the tears that threatened to overwhelm my eyes, or because for the first time in my life my mouth was closed, or maybe it was the trickle of blood that was escaping my lips, but for whatever reason, she came over and asked what was wrong. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't really remember what happened after that. I know my mother came and picked me up and took me immediately to a dentist because my two front teeth had been broken off at the gum line and would have to be pulled. Not how I'd imagined my first day of becoming the next Shirley Temple would go.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">So, why did this story come to mind today? Maybe it was because I'm reading about the life of David and Saul's behavior toward one who had done him no wrong made me think of it. Maybe it's because of all that is going on in the world. For whatever reason, today I'm thinking of that little girl who stood next to me in line that day. Maybe she was a nice kid just having a bad day, but in my memory, she was just MEAN. Sort of like David encountering Saul. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I don't know why some people are mean, but evidently, it's been going on for centuries. It doesn't have to do with the color of their skin or their political persuasions or whether they are rich or poor from what I can tell.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My husband once said people in pain are mean because they just plain hurt. Maybe that's the best explanation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Yesterday, I gathered with a few others and with pastors of every color and denomination on the steps of our county courthouse. Just days before, those steps had been covered with protestors, but today there was only a handful of us. I guess protesting is more popular than prayer. We stood together and prayed for our city, our state, and our nation. We prayed for justice and peace. I guess in a way, we prayed for the "mean people," too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">In all of this mishmash of thoughts the lyrics from this song came to mind. "God, You take what the enemy meant for evil and You use it for good. I'm gonna see a victory, for the battle belongs to the Lord." <a href="https://youtu.be/jEK6_rz26z0">"I'm gonna see a victory" song</a> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">That little five-year-old me learned a hard lesson that day. Not everyone is nice...some are downright mean. But I know this - that which the enemy meant for evil, God turns it for good. And if I "tap you on the shoulder," please don't take a swing at me. I just want to be your friend.</span><br />
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><span class="passage-display-bcv" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline; font-size: 18px; margin: 0px; padding-right: 6px;">Genesis 50:20</span> <span class="passage-display-version" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; display: inline;">New International Version (NIV)</span></i></span></h1>
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<span class="text Gen-50-20" id="en-NIV-1527" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 12px; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">20 </span>You intended to harm me,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-1527A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-1527A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> but God intended<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-1527B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-1527B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> it for good<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-1527C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-1527C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 0.625em; font-size: 0.625em; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives.</i></b></span></span></div>
Photo by <a href="https://unsplash.com/@dre0316?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Andre Hunter</a> on <a href="https://www.blogger.com/s/photos/frustration?utm_source=unsplash&utm_medium=referral&utm_content=creditCopyText">Unsplash</a>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-56395087366021230902020-06-14T23:22:00.000-05:002020-06-14T23:22:27.539-05:00Separated...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">There's a random thought that has been rolling around in my head for a couple of weeks. I'm not sure I'll be able to convey what I mean, but I pray my words are given in love.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">To be honest, all that is going on overwhelms me. I have talked to God more than once saying I was ready to go home when He was ready for me. But God reminded me that I was born during this time for a reason. Perhaps we were born for such a time as this. Someone has to stand up to injustice, just as Esther did.</span></span><br />
<b><i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Esther 4:14</span></i></b><br />
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<i><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small;">For if you keep silent at this time, relief and deliverance shall arise for the Jews from elsewhere, but you and your father’s house will perish. And who knows but that you have come to the kingdom for such a time as this <span style="box-sizing: border-box;">and</span> for this very occasion?</span></i></h1>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">Never has it been more evident that we have an enemy who comes to steal, kill, and destroy and it is not a person, not flesh and blood. Our enemy hates us because God loves us, so he wants to destroy. The best way to do that is to separate us.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">First came a pandemic that forced us to separate from each other - to isolate ourselves. The communication that we received wasn't face to face - it was filtered through news media and yes, through social media. We couldn't look each other in the eyes and see the other person's heart. We were separated and it became easier to pick off the most vulnerable.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">The next part occurred with the murder of George Floyd. What should have brought us together instead has caused people to look at each other in mistrust. It reminds me of the battle that Gideon watched as the soldiers began to turn on each other. They destroyed each other and from what I see on the news, that is pretty much what seems to be happening again.</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>Judges 7:22</i></b></span></span><br />
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<span class="text Judg-7-22" id="en-NIV-6717" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box;"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;">22 </span>When the three hundred trumpets sounded,<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-6717A" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-6717A" title="See cross-reference A">A</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> the <span class="small-caps" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant-caps: small-caps; font-variant-east-asian: normal; font-variant-numeric: normal;">Lord</span> caused the men throughout the camp to turn on each other<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NIV-6717B" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NIV-6717B" title="See cross-reference B">B</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span> with their swords.</i></b></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">My thoughts traveled once again to the separation. During the Nazi occupation, they moved the Jews into areas called "ghettos" under the pretense it was for their own "protection." We can now see what a lie that was. Once they separated the people, it was easier to paint them as the enemy. This reminds me so much of what seems to be happening now. The more we are separated, the easier it is for the enemy to paint people groups as the enemy, whether based on skin color or political leanings. The enemy continues to work to separate us.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">We, as children of God need to recognize the tactics of the enemy. We must actively refuse to turn on each other and instead turn to God, lifting each other up in prayer, crying out for His intervention and for His reformation and divine justice in the earth.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">The government isn't our enemy. The person who has a different color skin from me is not my enemy. As hard as it is to understand, even the person shouting out hatred and slurs is not our enemy. Our enemy is not flesh and blood but he is very real and the only way we can defeat him is to turn to God and repent for OUR (not your, or my, but OUR) wicked ways. And it begins with me.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">Well, I'm not being separated anymore. When you see me, I'll be wearing my mask, but look into my eyes. Feel free to talk to me. It's much more difficult to hate when we get to know each other and love each other despite of how we are different. And I will pray and do battle, not against flesh and blood but with the enemy of our souls.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">We may not agree politically or about all issues or even about whether or not to wear a mask, but I will fight tooth and nail for you my brothers and sisters. I won't yell. I won't argue. I will fight on my knees.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><br style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #1d2129;">Once again, I pray people can hear my heart. If you disagree - that's okay. Don't expect me to argue. I've got a real enemy to fight.</span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #1d2129; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Photo by Jordan Rowland on Unsplash</span></span>Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3797399696247008778.post-54906660038913876982020-06-03T13:05:00.003-05:002020-06-03T13:05:41.199-05:00but it's not...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">Every year I choose a word to focus on (see previous post) and this year my word was "Good" - the problem is, so far this year has been anything BUT good. I'd make a joke about this year being worse than all the Sharknado movies and the Tremor movies put together, but it's just not funny. Even with the things we could make fun of, like staying inside with our families, there has been a realization that for many it was anything but fun or funny. And now this. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I won't write my opinion in all this - it doesn't matter. Instead, I'm going to try and look at how in the world any of this can work out for "good". I know it was my word for the year and yet I just don't get it. Sort of like the year my word was "hope" and by the end of the year, hope was all we had to hang on to. So...I'm going to look at finding "good."</span></div>
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<span style="color: #222222; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">The first verse that came to mind was that God works all things together for my good...wait. How does that verse go EXACTLY - not from memory? Thanks to google search, I can find the exact address - it's Romans 8:28.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="color: blue;"><b><i>And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. </i></b></span><span style="color: #222222;">That's the King James Version. Okay - but I know a lot of people that love God that are hurting right now. And angry. And confused! Maybe I'll look at some different versions.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;">The Message version includes verses 26 and 27, (it never gives you just PART of what has been said!) </span><span style="background-color: white;"><b><i><span style="color: blue;">Meanwhile, the moment we get tired in the waiting, God’s Spirit is right alongside helping us along. If we don’t know how or what to pray, it doesn’t matter. He does our praying in and for us, making prayer out of our wordless sighs, our aching groans. He knows us far better than we know ourselves, knows our pregnant condition, and keeps us present before God. That’s why we can be so sure that every detail in our lives of love for God is worked into something good." </span></i></b><span style="color: #222222;">Well, that's a little different. "every detail in our lives of love for God" - now I'm more confused.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: #222222;">I found an article on the Billy Graham website, (full link here: </span><a href="https://billygraham.org/story/do-all-things-work-together-for-good/" style="color: #222222;">Do all things work together...</a><span style="color: #222222;"> ) and this part really stood out to me: </span><span style="color: purple;"><b><i>"</i></b></span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="color: purple;"><b><i>The fifth thing is the purpose of the promise. It is about those who are called according to His purpose. What is His purpose? In Romans 8:28-29 we read, “We know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to his purpose. For whom he did foreknow, he also did predestinate to be conformed to the image of his Son.”</i></b></span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: purple; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i>That’s the key. What is the good that all things are working together for? To make us like Jesus. To be conformed to the image of His Son. There is no higher good than to be like the Lord Jesus Christ.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><b><i><span style="color: purple;">Many times this promise has been trivialized. For example, someone may be driving down the road and a tire will blow out. The person may say, “Oh, well, the Bible says that ‘all things work together for good.'(1) Maybe there’s a sale on tires.” That isn’t what this verse means. The good is not to make us necessarily healthy or happy but to make us holy, to make us like Jesus. If the goal of our lives is not to be like Jesus, that goal is too small. Our goal must be to be conformed to the image of God’s Son."</span></i></b></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">I once read that since I KNOW God works all things together for my good, if it isn't good then God isn't finished yet. Kind of simplistic, but it does help me hang on. Through all this, I keep asking myself how would Jesus respond? What would He do? If I can align with that, then perhaps I will become more like Him and that will be "good." </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #222222;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">It seems that NOTHING has been good this year, and with each day instead of better it only seems to be getting worse. All that makes me wonder - what will God do to turn all this into something that we can somehow look back on and say, "it is good"? If nothing else, 2020 is driving us to our knees in prayer and helping us clearly SEE just how much we need the Lord and revival in the hearts of people everywhere...beginning with me.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #111111; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;">Thanks to </span><a href="https://unsplash.com/@aaronburden" style="box-sizing: border-box; color: #767676; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; text-decoration-skip-ink: auto; transition: color 0.1s ease-in-out 0s, opacity 0.1s ease-in-out 0s;">Aaron Burden</a><span style="color: #111111; font-family: -apple-system, system-ui, "San Francisco", "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, Ubuntu, Roboto, Noto, "Segoe UI", Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 15px;"> for sharing their work on Unsplash.</span></div>
Donnahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16805649207386973109noreply@blogger.com0