tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7951102886091778372024-02-01T22:47:17.448-08:00{fly free}Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger31125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-90524489303214715542018-04-23T13:02:00.000-07:002018-04-23T20:09:59.552-07:00We live our lives in layers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
We live our lives in layers.<br />
<br />
I walked through the airport a few weeks ago all layered up. Phone in hand, I was walking with a purpose, eyes open and unseeing. I was going on a trip to take a breath. To slow down. I was getting away with plans to fall in love with life again. I wanted to have an affair with the present. I wanted it to sweep me off my feet and learn to lay in its embrace.<br />
<br />
I meant to pack ever so simply--sundresses only. But somehow I arrived at the airport with 3 oversized bags full of clothes for every occasion, a laptop, camera, phone and over a DOZEN books. How embarrassing. How does this happen? How do my decisions get so blurry? How do my intentions get so buried? Here I was--taking a just me trip to Florida to see friends who always fill my cup. I was on my way to see big water on beaches that would open me up. But standing there on the sidewalk outside the airport struggling with my bags--I realized that in order to craft the kind of trip I truly wanted, I'd have to leave my cozy layers behind. I'd have to meet the eyes of the people around me. I had to choose right then to turn with curiousity when someone spoke my name. I must shrug the hurry and hustle off my shoulders and let my bare skin taste everything around me. Inspiration had to start here--now--or it never would. The problem is, wherever I go--I take me along. My comfy layers were sure to follow me to Florida if I wasn't careful. I had to check the self protection right there if I wanted to come home any different. Slowly I could feel the layers fall away. I checked my bag and got a little lighter. I put my phone down and almost floated away. I stood in line--eyes wide open, face vulnerable and I dared to look and see the people next to me.<br />
<br />
Just then I noticed the woman in line just ahead of me. Her name was Pamela and she had very wrinkly elbows. I wondered when my elbows would begin to wrinkle and then I wondered about how wisely I was spending the time I have in my skin. I wouldn't have seen her and wondered anything if I had fallen into my phone, like the rabbit hole it is.<br />
<br />
I headed into meet the TSA and all the time resisted the urge to hurry because honestly--I had plenty of time. I generally have plenty of time. Hurry isn't always necessary. But it's contagious and we pass it on to one another. I had to keep myself from pushing to the front of the lines out of ugly habit. Why do line's encourage impatience? So I let people go ahead and noted the surprise on their faces. Eye contact was rare-all eyes were down on devices. What are we all afraid of? A few minutes of silence and still? Maybe this is just the medicine we need. I resisted the stubborn urge to take my phone out to steal a look--my fingers needed a hit. "Hi, I'm Lexi and I'm an i-phone junky." Instead of giving in to the phone on fire in my bag--when people talked to me--I talked back to them. I smiled at the people waiting with me. Without a busy baby in my arms the whole wide world looked brand new. I missed my baby boy at home and borrowed his eyes for just a minute. I bet this is how he sees every day--big and wild and inviting.<br />
<br />
I noticed how much margin was mine. I was wealthy in time and the feeling sent a shiver up my spine.<br />
<br />
With my new perspective I was overwhelmed with how crazy/fun people were to look at. My flowy green pants and turquoise jewelry took their place in the collage of clothes. Most people seemed to be dressed for success and marathons. There were tall girls waiting to board in sports gear layered under backpacks and tiny girls sporting poms and hair bows. I saw so many immaculate men with important looking watches. There was an unshaven man to my left with crazy hair, hidden in a hoodie. I walked and looked and tried not to gape. There were moms in heels. Moms in crocs. Moms in ponytails and suit jackets. So many freckles. All these lives I'll never know. So much story. Normally right this minute I'd be a million miles from here, lost in my phone-settling safely into social media--immune to the present, just scrolling through pictures and looking at interesting things far away when there were interesting things right there in front of me.<br />
<br />
A little boy tugged on his mommas arm to tell her how long his device would stay charged. He was proud to know the information down to the minute. I felt sad for him because maybe he was meant to know other things in that intimate way. Say the same smart sandy haired boy was watching for the very minute the apricot tree in his backyard bloomed. What if he memorized how many days there was between bloom and leaf--what would a shift like this mean to the world? Perhaps if his mind (and mine) had more time to wonder--instead of being dazzled by battery life or mindcraft--he would know what it means for spring when the buzzard flies overhead. Maybe he would have a knack for finding morel mushrooms? Instead he fills his little head with how many minutes he can look into a little black square and be entertained. We all do. And we've named it progress.<br />
<br />
I saw a little brown boy with curly hair--looking as near to perfect as I've ever seen. Our eyes met because I was staring. He startled me with a cheery hello. We were two of the few with our eyes up. I smiled my hi and looked away. My hope was restored in humanity. One polite child and I felt like we'd all be okay. My eyes flitted from person to person--taking it all in. I wondered if people have any idea how beautiful they are. They are breathtaking. I had the urge to tell them. Without my layers on, I could feel all the energy swirling and I could see their soul sparks. Suddenly the whole room was a firecracker--full of human spark and flash. Big bursts and small ones. I wish I had the kind of time to tell each person what I saw in them that day. I realized that this was really weird thought and yet--I kinda wished I knew what people saw when they looked at me. I saw sadness in shoulders. I saw hurry in feet. I saw so many restless eyes and painted lips. I saw quick smiles transform faces. Smiles are a happy kind of epidemic that spreads to all that make eye contact. I caught one and was infected. I saw furrowed eyebrows and fluttering lashes. When the lonely brown gentleman raised his eyes to meet mine I got a little jolt and thought, "Oh! Well, there ya are!" It's totally wild how no one looks the same--though we all seem to be trying to match the names of our purses and the roll of our jeans.<br />
<br />
We live bundled up in layers for storms that never come at all. There are few things on this earth more ridiculous than a snowsuit in summer. But we layer up anyway--living our lives for just in cases. We only slip our layers off every once in awhile--if we must. Otherwise, we walk through airports and work spaces and coffee shops--never making contact. Our phones and screens and TVs insulate us and slip over our eyes so we can't see. Numb is blind--so we are insulated from pain and joy alike. We are so busy. busy. busy. TV, music, social media, text, emails-- these things swallow our days. Whatever happened to tinkering and thinking? Netflix steals our hours and somehow makes us believe our moments are scarce and not our own. So we rush around and order our groceries and subscribe to everything that promises faster.<br />
<br />
As I lost my layers my eyes were wide in seeing. My ears were perked in listening. With my insulation gone, I could feel the spark or chill of all the souls I passed. I felt the warmth coming off of some people--pulling me in and I felt the frosty air blow off some too. I wondered which was me...<br />
<br />
I resolved to take a chance and do my entire trip--6 days, layer free--vulnerable to whatever the present held for me. 6 days sounded like the perfect amount of time to erase the idea of interruption. Joy, pain, action, empathy, or otherwise--I decided I would just take it as it came. It would be a hard and holy work--shedding my self protection. What if an unexpected storm blew my way? Maybe I'd freeze....or maybe I'd just feel.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-78644434991777338342018-03-19T20:01:00.002-07:002018-03-19T20:03:32.633-07:00Story & Song<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlpDaH7GjS9ZYrjYLMSjvasOZ2Fo48ydJb7vBgsBfhk3OY5Ryc-71QnD7htTmalkD2FCfG5Jkcja_bR04SSWqHEZKp7MsrUdjCdaud535-CmfCSStq5Gy1ggo1dUAsH5294GF9l8il_x1/s1600/IMG_9263_1762.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1067" data-original-width="1600" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGlpDaH7GjS9ZYrjYLMSjvasOZ2Fo48ydJb7vBgsBfhk3OY5Ryc-71QnD7htTmalkD2FCfG5Jkcja_bR04SSWqHEZKp7MsrUdjCdaud535-CmfCSStq5Gy1ggo1dUAsH5294GF9l8il_x1/s640/IMG_9263_1762.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<b>I'm currently in the trenches of parenting--making memories...and mistakes.</b> I have a sense that we are currently living the "good old days" with all three kids still at home. Our unique age spread means we are changing diapers, doing homecoming hair and forgetting to bring the soccer snacks--sometimes all in one day.<br />
<br />
Perspective is not easy to find when one is knee deep in the thick of it.<br />
<br />
<b>Earlier this week I heard an amazing story of an African tribe--still alive.</b> Strangely, in the Himba tribe, they count the birth date of the children, not from the day they are born or concieved but from the very day the mother decides to have the child.<br />
<br />
So when a Himba woman decides to have a child, she goes off and sits under a tree by herself and listens until she can hear the song of the child who wants to come.<br />
<br />
After she's heard the song of this child, she returns to the man who will be the child's father, and teaches him the song.<br />
<br />
When they concieve the child, they sing the song of the child as a way of inviting the child to them.<br />
<br />
When the mother becomes pregnant, she teaches that child's song to the midwies and the old women of the village so that when the child is born, the old women and the people gather around the baby and sing the song to welcome the child to the earth.<br />
<br />
As the child grows, the other villagers are taught the child's song. If the child falls or gets hurt, someone picks up the child and sings his song to him. When the child does something wonderful, or goes through the rites of puberty--as a way of honoring them-- the people of the village sing his song to him.<br />
<br />
In the Himba marriage ceremony, the bride and groom's songs are sung, together.<br />
<br />
In the Himba tribe there is one other occasion when the child's song is is sung. If someone in the Himba tribe commits a crime or does something at odds with the Himba social norms, the villagers call him or her into the center of the village and the community forms a circle around the tribesperson. Then they sing their birth song to them. <b>The Himba views correction not as a punishment, but as love and remembrance of identity. They believe when you remember your own song, you will have no desire or need to do anything that would hurt another. </b><br />
<br />
And finally--when the someone from the Himba tribe is lying on their bed, ready to die, all the villagers that know their song come and sing, for the last time, that person's song. <br />
<br />
<b>This faraway story captured my heart.</b><br />
<br />
I can't stop thinking about it.<br />
<br />
Me and mine are ever so different from the Himba tribe but in some ways we are surprisingly the same. As I thought more about my own tribe and my brand of motherhood, my heart was filled with hallulujah.<br />
<br />
In the literal sense, each of my babies have a 'welcome to the world' song. We've swaddled them in song since the first day of their lives. (I made Eric pack our cd player and I was the new mother playing music in the hospital room). Jaeda's song was Ella Fitzgerald's Blue Skies and Rhett's was Sweet Sweet Baby by Michelle Featherstone and from day one Sully's song has been Hallelujah by Jeff Buckley. We've sung these songs over them to calm and comfort them. From the very start, music has filled our home because, music changes everything.<br />
<br />
Somewhere along the way our babies started singing back to us. They each came with a specific song to sing to the world around them. A song of laughter and fun and spirited giggles. A song of humor and stubbornness and story. As their momma, I learned their music and celebrated the good and saw the bad. I memorized their strengths and took a long look at their weaknesses.<br />
<br />
My Jaeda-girl's song is strong. Opinionated. She loves hard and loyaly and feels everything ever so intensely. She is insightful and full of art and music and written words. She wrestles with fear and other people's harsh judgements. She is a creator and justice seeker.<br />
<br />
My Wonderboy sings a joyful song. He is a happy-ness bringer. Wherever he goes he spills words and ideas and wonder. He is grateful and sunny and curious. He consumes knowledge and loves a challenge. He is relentless but vulnerable to the sting of angry words. He can be proud and over-honest. He struggles when the spotlight isn't turned on him.<br />
<br />
My Lionman is still teaching us his song. But oh does he ROAR! He is an ever-moving, ever-chasing, ever-learning little moonbeam. I have still have so much to learn about each of them. And yet everything they have shown me, I have memorized.<br />
<br />
<b>The right song changes everything. Music is powerful. The music they make is my favorite.</b><br />
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifIHeOsNq6pdWh9RcArOcFKqiXSJw6pzqUDcn2AFI9qInVr-0UOAInsZuYA4QouwdfxgS3-AxBeb7Fhe67qp0RY68pWK4HHlYrnU12fRAb1oJns1q8qcgdyum7fAacO8KAsA1wDyL3-TN7/s1600/IMG_8922_1422.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1039" data-original-width="1600" height="415" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifIHeOsNq6pdWh9RcArOcFKqiXSJw6pzqUDcn2AFI9qInVr-0UOAInsZuYA4QouwdfxgS3-AxBeb7Fhe67qp0RY68pWK4HHlYrnU12fRAb1oJns1q8qcgdyum7fAacO8KAsA1wDyL3-TN7/s640/IMG_8922_1422.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
We are not the Himba tribe but none-the-less, I see pieces and parts of the Himba's song-centric parenting echoed in our lives.<br />
<br />
Once when Jaeda was struggling hard with a cross-country move, we declared one Saturday Jaeda day. We looked through pictures of her as a baby and a child and told stories about her and ate all her favoirtes. We reminded her who she was. Once she remembered, nothing looked as scary. Not even a new school in a new state.<br />
<br />
When our baby Sully arrived we noticed our Wonderboy went a little quiet. When Wonderboy gets quiet something is deeply wrong. We know this because we know him. A Wonderboy day was in order. A day where we looked at his baby pictures and watched his home videos and remembered him in a hundred tiny ways all day.<br />
<br />
A particuarly Himba-like part of our parenting has always included introducing our kids to people who learned them.<br />
People who love them.<br />
People who know them.<br />
People who call them back to themselves when they get lost.<br />
People who call them up to more when they lose heart.<br />
These people SEE them.<br />
These people love us all boldly enough to speak into our lives and say, "You look like yourself, but you are acting like someone else."<br />
This is our tribe.<br />
<br />
We are ever adding to the tribe. One's tribe never stops growing. We have recently found lost parts of our tribe in our new little midwest town. I cannot tell you how good it feels to sit across from someone who snuggles your baby, laughs at your wordy 10 year old and truly and completely SEES your teenager (and loves them still). These newfound tribeswomen are people who are an important part of our everydays. They say 'me too' when tears fall over teen age mistakes. These Monday morning and Tuesday afternoon friends are the ones who take turns chasing the baby when I've grown tired--they are the same ones who celebrate my ten year old's triumphs. These are our people. We are learning their songs and we sing them ours. <br />
<br />
<b>Story stirs me.</b><br />
<br />
The Himba story shook me. And made me want to be more. Made me want to lean in and listen to the songs around me...my kids and everyone else's too. This story gave me the gift of new sight. Perspective.<br />
<br />
In times of celebration and in times of turmoil I want to help my kids recall their song and themselves.<br />
<br />
I want to practice remembering my own music when it's tempting to forget.<br />
<br />
I want to be firmly planted in a tribe that loves each other like the Himba--constantly calling each other up to who we are born to be.<br />
<br />
I want to take this story with me and bury it deep into my everyday. I want to plant some Himba wisdom in my life and stand back and see how it grows.<br />
<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-71963582144052437202018-02-09T12:53:00.002-08:002018-02-10T08:05:14.393-08:00shelter<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit; font-size: xx-small;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I have mirrors hanging in my house and poetry written on my windows,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">both for the same reason--</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">so I can see myself.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Yesterday on the largest window in my home, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I scribbled the words,</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">"I felt it shelter to speak to you". </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">--Emily Dickinson</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I left Emily's words there, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">to better see </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I mostly see the absence of myself in Emily's words on my window each time I walk past. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Truth is: I am rarely the shelter and am often the tempest.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am the storm instead of the safe place.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Often I bring honesty and opinion and forget to bring subtilty and tenderness.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I live my life with an umph and urgency that doesn't leave alot of space for others.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">But I so want to be a shelter...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The whole wide world is wild and a bit rowdy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Crazy things happen everyday.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Big bursts and small ones.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Lives are changed and lunches made.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Self control is lost and so are keys.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I want to be a shelter from it all. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">For my kids and my partner.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">For my friends and neighbors.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">For my sisters and my people (and also anyone who needs it.)</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">But it's beyond me.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">A shelter doesn't just magically come into existence.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Someone has to build it.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Someone strong.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I happen to know a builder.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">He's been offering for awhile to take me and make me something new.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">He wants to redeem all my pieces and parts and make me into something that can somehow be used...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">He looks at me with some imagination.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">He sees the unique parts that only belong to me...the beautiful ones I try to cling to. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">He sees all my lost and broken bits... and He thinks he can use those too.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">He longs to make a shelter out of me--</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">a shelter for not only my children but also the cast-offs that no one wants to claim.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">He wants to come in and take my crazy and make me cozy.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">He wants to make me both a home for my own and those who've never known home.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Right now I look more like a junkyard of stray dreams and half-started things. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I am all and sundry. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Odds and ends.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm a wistful pile of rubble.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">The Creator-God promises He can move in and make sense of it all. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">So much for making something of myself...</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I'm quite relieved to find I'm not alone at this work.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">I often get confused and think the point is to become more like me</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">when this whole life is about looking more like Him. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Shelter.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Helper.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: x-large;">Home.</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-20724484338531179322018-02-02T09:40:00.000-08:002018-02-02T10:21:51.773-08:00At the table<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />
The new year lays before me like untrodden snow.<br />
<br />
To take the first step is to mar the untouched thing.<br />
<br />
Beginning feels holy and important.<br />
<br />
I sidestep the starting and chase down distraction.<br />
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I begin gathering my home.<br />
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I spend my January reading other people's books instead of writing my own...<br />
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I cross the cold days off the calendar one by one and trade them for a clean house and folded laundry.<br />
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I rearrange furniture until I'm satisfied (I'm never satisfied) and then Feburary 1st arrives and shakes me awake.<br />
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2018's chapter one is already done.<br />
<br />
It's past time to begin.<br />
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Better now than then never.<br />
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It's okay if the first few steps are shaky.<br />
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(Shaky steps take you where you need to go too.)<br />
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This year will be the year that I claim my spot at the table. If there is no room I will pull up a chair. I will show up nervous and awkward and without any answers. Bringing only what I've got.<br />
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Me.<br />
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I have ideas.<br />
<br />
I bring creativity.<br />
<br />
I can tie words around just about any old thing.<br />
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I can't show up emptyhanded (and my guess is neither can you).<br />
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I always show up with enthusiasm and hardwork.<br />
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Empathy is my specialty and making something of nothing is my favorite recipe.<br />
<br />
This is the year I will show up with what I have and share what I've been given: the gifts I was born into (my inheritance).<br />
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Why is it so hard to believe there is a place for (even) me at the table?<br />
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Why does my 35 year old voice shake when I join the conversation?<br />
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If all of life is a long table--I want to learn to make place cards for every single of us so not one person will live another day doubting whether or not they belong.<br />
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Place cards are my favorite. They have the most delicate way of saying YOU ARE WANTED.<br />
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When I see my name written on a tiny bit of paper in front of a chair my heart thrills just a little and only then do I stop wondering if what I have to bring is essential AND JUST SIT DOWN.<br />
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If there is room for me and my mess at this table then there is room for you and yours.<br />
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You & me...We belong here.<br />
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I'm bringing me (and that's enough).<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-42284143473389649172014-02-06T09:43:00.002-08:002014-02-06T11:08:52.080-08:00my mommahood<div class="MsoNormal">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">a few years back, i found myself surrounded by amazing mommas. they were all good at things like making appointments (and keeping them), </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">returning library books and </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">looking sane in the pre-school pick up line. i, mistakenly, measured my momma success by their amazing strengths...and i fell short. so somewhere along the way, i cast my own crazy/creative strengths aside and went to work on my weaknesses. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">i tried harder. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">i tried replacing finger painting with worksheets. i stopped park hopping and picked up flash cards. i bought daily planners by the dozen. i attempted to schedule our previously impulsive little life...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">i ended up discouraged...</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">during that time, i managed to beat myself up pretty good. i was going weeks without doing fun things and months without dabbling in creativity. i spent years chastising myself for being who i was created to be...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">right around that time, something about the grace my God offered me started to change my mind about my mommahood. it finally occurred to me that, it didn't have to be about trying harder...it was just about asking Him who i was, opening my hands to accept what was given to me and asking for forgiveness for my failings. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">and things started to change...slowly. i started to find myself as a momma. i started making messes with my kiddos...big impractical ones. i started dancing silly in the car and generally driving with the windows down. i threw big birthday parties and a few very un-birthday parties. i began dragging creativity into everywhere...even chore lists. i started conversations that i'm pretty sure weren't happening in all the other mini vans. i broke all the rules...not on purpose--but just because it's how i love.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">somewhere amidst my self discovery, i created my momma creed. it went something like this:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">"i want to raise passionate learners and world changers who love God and others."</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">once i narrowed down my goal for mommahood it was easier to rearrange my life to make it happen. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">it was freeing.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><br /></span></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">these days my mommahood looks less like anyone else's and more like my own. </span></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">i feel a little more at home as a momma--less worried about being <b>everything</b> and more focused on offering my <b>something</b>. my love for my kiddos is deeply rooted in my Father's love for me. i know mommahood is nothing to be figured out and there is never a right way--but i think i've discovered that my relationship with my Father changes my mommahood in remarkable ways. when i'm close to Him i am more okay with me and i generally have more to offer those 2 firecrackers of mine and the many mommas that surround me. when i see us all as His children it's easy to see that other mommas received different gifts than i did...and it's okay if i don't measure up to them--all our gifts are good. if you use yours and i use mine, then the world will be just as it should be:)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">the truth is, i will always fail in the punctuality department. i have a propensity to make up rash and extreme punishments that are impossible to follow through on("no computer til after christmas!"). i'm not a great morning momma--no creativity til after coffee. sometimes i yell. my kids watch far more tv then i'd like. my house is only clean for minutes at a time. i forget more dental appointments then i'd like to admit. i overthink little things. i have a tendency to make lessons out of flying birds and pretty sunsets. i have this habit of starting things...and turns out, being myself makes me look crazy in the company of other mommas...but i am so much more alive to my kiddos. and that's what this mommahood is all about, right? them? so nevermind the stares...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;">my kids will never have everything but they will get all of me. they will get the messy parts and the holy ones--they will hear of the lessons i've learned and the ones i'm currently learning. they will get a front row seat to creativity and most likely have several tardy slips each semester. my kiddos will benefit from the best of me...and learn to have grace for the worst of me...and when they are grown, they will know...i gave it my all.</span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-90372947797772908962014-01-13T10:17:00.000-08:002014-01-13T10:21:32.937-08:00sheer gift<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">new year. two words. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;"><b>sheer gift.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>sheer</b>-</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">adjective</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">1. nothing other than; unmitigated.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">synonyms: utter complete, absolute, total, pure, downright, out-and-out, thorough.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>gift</b>-</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">noun</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">1. a thing given willingly to someone without payment; a present.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">synonyms: present handout donation, offering, bestowal, bonus, award, endownment</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">2. a natural ability or talent</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">synonyms: talent, flair, apitude, facility, knack, bent, ability, expertise, capacity, capability</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i divorced new year resolutions last year. new year's resolutions reek of should's and would's and i'd rather live a life free of that flavor of things. i replaced resolutions with a theme...last year's theme added so much life to me i couldn't help but come up with another. It took me awhile to alight upon an idea i wanted to carry with me for such a long journey through spring and summer and fall and back to winter again. and then i read romans 4 and i knew.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b>romans 4</b></span><br />
<span class="versenum" style="background-color: white; font-size: 0.75em; vertical-align: top;"><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><br /></b></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><b><span class="versenum" style="background-color: white; font-size: 0.75em; vertical-align: top;"> </span><span style="background-color: white;">If you’re a hard worker and do a good job, you deserve your pay; we don’t call your wages a gift. But if you see that the job is too big for you, that it’s something only </span><i style="background-color: white;">God</i><span style="background-color: white;"> can do, and you trust him to do it—you could never do it for yourself no matter how hard and long you worked—well, that trusting-him-to-do-it is what gets you set right with God, </span><i style="background-color: white;">by </i><span style="background-color: white;">God. Sheer gift.</span></b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white;">wow. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white;">i love gifts! </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">i want to </span><b style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">look</b><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> at life this year, good days and bad, as a sheer gift. </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">on winter mornings (even in florida), you can see your breath. something normally invisible is temporarily frozen and able to be viewed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white;">i want to <i>see</i> each breath this year...and i want learn to view it as a gift. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white;">the truth is, </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white;">i don't deserve another minute. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white;">i'm not entitled to another year. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white;">this year i want to imagine all the moments wrapped up in paper and string...just for me. i want to unwrap the exciting packages and the dull ones and be grateful for both... i want to look for and find sheer gifts all over my life--hidden in unexpected places and holding surprising contents. i want to live this next year with open hands, awaiting and expecting anything and everything He sends my way. i want to look at 2014 like a child on christmas morning...with awe and wonder in my eyes...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white;"><br /></span></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="background-color: white;">I want to drag this concept into every area of my life...even the spiritual. this year, i want to live in the sheer gift of His grace. i want to make sure i am not attempting to add to His gift by "trying harder". i want to make sure i realize that this job is too big for me. when someone gives an amazing gift, it's very human to want to pay them back in some way...and i often make that mistake in how i relate to the God who spoke the mountains into existence. how prideful. how insulting. i want to approach my Father this year with a heart of humility and gratefulness...ever aware of the gifts He gives and how i can never deserve them. i want to practice living in this sheer gift ALL. YEAR. LONG.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">the word gift has two meanings--it can refer to a present or an ability. in years past, i've been guilty of never using the gifts God has given to me. in fact i've hidden them--to keep them safe from harm, i've put them up on a high and dusty shelf...so nothing can be broken. this year i want to unwrap my gifts and atually use them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i want to make. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i want to write. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i want to draw. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i want to create.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i want to drag these unused gifts out of my soul's attic. i don't want to be the daughter that buried her talents. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i've lived too long in shame for the ways i'm made. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">i've lived too long in fear. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">i've lived way too long without flying from my open cage. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">doing the things i love scares me. it feels so intimate and exhilarating</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">. it's...terrifying to put it all out there. but this year? i want to dust off my brushes and paint on my life's canvas. i want to use up all the blank paper in my house to write and sketch and create. i want to put my ideas to work. i'm tired of comparing my gifts or asking Him for an exchange. i'm tired of valuing His creation in this world but devaluing it in myself. this year i'm going to be kind to myself as i make my way through this unknown terrain. i'm not going to demand perfection of me. i'm going to be brave with my gifts and graceful with myself along the way. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">along with learning to use my gifts, in 2014 i want to be a giver. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">no reasons. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">no paybacks. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">no credit taken. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">no strings attached. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i want to be a giver this year. i have been given so much i want to take this year to give of my time, my resources and talents</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">. i want to be intentional about looking for these opportunities wherever i go. i want this year to be marked by a extreme generosity. i want to offer my best giving to God this year. i want to mirror the Great Giver with a little giving of my own. i want to be on the hunt this year for opportunities to share.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i want to spend 2014 admiring the sheer gift of life,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">basking in the sheer gift of grace, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">daring to use the gifts given to me, </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">and </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">last of all,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">mirroring the Giver of every good thing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b>new year. two words.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><b>sheer gift.</b></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-44631490992489775672014-01-07T10:50:00.001-08:002021-01-17T06:19:31.850-08:00seeds, magic, roots & blooms<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigiNCsgkUzaG8yHFwAJ2PnRfUTm_homZpye-jtoUsoFqa_b9ncuHpYMosgfJ6e-nkb3UlBHy4b8fRCdhd_fi7mXIC_0BNnfaLMXDri9RoT5di4_OV8AGgErUjJj3BRj57dpo8urZUOL9bg/s1600/thehennighs!_054.jpeg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="441" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigiNCsgkUzaG8yHFwAJ2PnRfUTm_homZpye-jtoUsoFqa_b9ncuHpYMosgfJ6e-nkb3UlBHy4b8fRCdhd_fi7mXIC_0BNnfaLMXDri9RoT5di4_OV8AGgErUjJj3BRj57dpo8urZUOL9bg/s1600/thehennighs!_054.jpeg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">lately, it's the littlest things that catch my attention. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">things overlooked. things forgotten. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">things like seeds.<span style="font-size: x-large;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">if you stop just a second to think about it, seeds are such a wild & wonderful way to begin a thing! even the simplest description sounds so other worldly--</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">first you </span>cover this tiny gray ball with some dirt. make sure it sees the sun. just add water and then stand back--who knows what it will be.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></span></div>
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</span>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>inside every </b></span></span></div>
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</span>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>little seed </b></span></span></div>
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</span>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>is </b></span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>pure magic. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">seeds</span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> don't typically look like magic. it's impossible to know just by looking, that something wonderful is beginning. even if you know the sort, you never know if the seed you hold in your hand will grow up and become:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">houses </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">or boats,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">driftwood or pencils,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">chrysanthemums</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">or raspberries,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">books </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">or tree houses, </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">baby beds </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">or wildflowers,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">shade </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">or shelter. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">(because, if you look at it just right, all of these things must begin with a seed.) </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">every seed is </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">a secret.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">a promise.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">a mystery.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">a miracle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">it seems logical to me that of all the seeds, the dandelion and milkweed seeds would grow the most magical things of all...they seem so full of fluff and whimsy...and yet...once they are properly sunned and watered, they are only pretty weeds.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">the start of a thing rarely tips you off to what is to come. i constantly try to guess at what God is planting as it goes into the soft soil of my heart but really--it's quite hard to judge endings from their beginnings. and there is so much beginning...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">so much in my life is changing, churning. the soil under my feet is being tilled and turned. everywhere i look God is growing something new. beginnings</span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"> are being planted everywhere. i am both thrilled and terrified with the slightly chaotic turn my life is taking...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">*my husband just started a new job (in the office next to mine). he will work from home & for something he believes in. it's kind of his dream job...in one miraculously strategic move God has answered so many prayers...and turned our routine on it's very head. i'm so excited for eric and for our family as we venture into this untamed territory. so excited to see just what grows out of this change.</span></span></div>
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"></span><br />
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">*today i stand bewildered at the beginning of a long journey to wellness. my battle with lyme disease continues to alter everything. every day is different. some days wonderful. some (like last saturday) are from my nightmares. God is doing lots of weeding and planting in this area of my life. He's planting seeds of empathy and compassion in me where self-centeredness has always grown. He's folding seeds of quiet and contentment into loud and lusty, me. He's cultivating helplessness and gratitude and those other tricky things inside my heart. i can feel these foreign things taking root deep down inside. from the outside i'm sure i look much the same but these invisible roots promise visible blooms someday soon. all these sweet seedlings are slowly growing and taking over places where my thorny words used to be. i've never in my life been so happy to watch, follow & listen. i would have never guessed this is what would begin to grow from illness. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #7f6000; font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">*i am beginning some new creative projects in this starting season. projects unlike i've ever attempted. God has planted some seeds of truth in my life that are growing quite steadily into action. it's exciting and risky and ... i can't wait to see what pops up out of this ground.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i am enthralled with life this january! there are new beginnings in all directions. it's an expectant season where much is being planted. i'm intoxicated with the hope that all this seed magic will explode into something wonderful come spring. i can't wait for these seeds to show me what it means to <span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>bloom.</b></span></span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-57087883403487865742013-11-11T09:30:00.003-08:002013-11-11T09:30:55.255-08:00still learning...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0FRlhKNqFd7AmnrDQ9In1ZvdiI_1m6uGZhU8wUCDFEe2D-rn63VeAbimCvUF2G9dSPCQwPXA6WcyVtWFXTt_aCGhu8N-AydCgf0jInLSyY8f2WJ63JQNZoC2nznSLmrCCfXYCpzwBtF8l/s1600/IMG_9272.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="427" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0FRlhKNqFd7AmnrDQ9In1ZvdiI_1m6uGZhU8wUCDFEe2D-rn63VeAbimCvUF2G9dSPCQwPXA6WcyVtWFXTt_aCGhu8N-AydCgf0jInLSyY8f2WJ63JQNZoC2nznSLmrCCfXYCpzwBtF8l/s640/IMG_9272.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">lately i feel i've been traveling through foreign land. everything is different. food, language, ritual, habit, street signs and landscape. it's all very confusing. and frustrating. i'm sure there are some wonderful things i'm missing out my window, but i'm consumed with my survival in this strange land and so far have failed to see any landmarks that might make this journey a little less traumatic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">rhett & i were recently diagnosed with lyme disease. we were bitten by ticks this summer while picnicking under our favorite old tree. we didn't get a distinct rash (only about 35%-60% of lyme's patients got the "bull's eye rash"). we <i>were</i> a little tired...but it was summer and we were flying through all our favorite things. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">soon enough school started. i was editing photos in front of my computer every day...but sore at the end of day...and so tired at night you would have thought i was running marathons in between photo sessions. but i couldn't sleep...and then i started having chest pain. and that sent me straight to the dr. one night i thought i was dying. crushing chest pain, heart flutters, pain in my left arm...and yet...i'm such a non-medical kinda girl...it took all this to get me to my local urgent care. they did an EKG and said there was nothing wrong. i said,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><b>oh, yes. there is something wrong all right. i know it. run every test. diabetes, heart disease, lyme disease, I DON'T CARE. </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">and i must have been pretty scary in that moment because, without another question, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">he did. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">Lyme's came back positive. i was devastated i have seen with my own two eyes how terrible this disease could be...i could hardly believe it was lurking in MY body. my strong and young and capable body. i got rhett tested the same day(because he was bit by two ticks the same day i was). he tested positive. my momma's heart withered.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> we both started treatment in september.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">if getting diagnosed with a potentially debilitating disease was not enough.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">there is some very bad news about lyme's disease. i'm learning more every day. here is the information i've gathered thus far (in my own simple words),</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">if you don't get proper treatment for lyme's in the beginning stages, you could have it for the rest of your life.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">+</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">it's very hard to get proper treatment</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">BECAUSE...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">people think it's not here or it's not there or it's only in the northeast (including my urgent care dr and the florida health department). </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">+</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> it's a VERY politically clouded disease that the government doesn't like to talk about or acknowledge. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">+</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">insurances don't like to pay for the expensive treatments. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">+</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> the CDC doesn't stand to benefit from lyme's research and they don't know enough about the disease to properly treat it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">+</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">dr's get shut down for treating lyme's any way but by CDC guidelines (a few days or weeks of antibiotics). they are getting their licences taken away for doing anything more. naturally, there are very few dr's willing to take this risk.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">all of this =</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">a very scary and unfamiliar journey for me and my little wonderboy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">luckily (for us) we have some friends here in florida that have been down a similar road. they pointed us to some lyme literate medical doctors in the area (l.l.m.d.) right away and have eased the entrance into this strange land by their familiarity with all the things we are currently wading through. while this is amazing and graceful...this journey has still been dark...for me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">lyme disease if not treated is thought to be linked to some very scary diseases like parkinson's, arthritis, lupis, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromialgia, and alzheimer's. in my limited understanding it can lead to heart damage, organ damage and even death. all from one little tick at a pretty picnic.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">this is all so unfamiliar to me. like a different world than i knew just several months ago. my body feels like someone else's some days. i hurt. i ache. i feel like my mouth won't make the right words and that's if my brain can find them. every day is different. it rarely looks the same. it's confusing to me so i can't imagine what it looks like in my little boy's head. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">as a strong woman...i am frustrated. as a momma...i am enraged. as a daughter of a big God...i am learning.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">i'm learning (once again) i am small. i'm learning lots from this out of control feeling. i am learning that i never really trusted Him to begin with. i am learning alot about how to live today and let tomorrow worry about itself. i am learning to wait and i am learning that He can do more in my waiting that i can ever do in my doing. i'm learning the value of good health. i'm learning about the art of taking care of others (as others care for me). i'm learning that a call or text or pot of soup or apple pie really can mean HOPE to someone. this whole thing has been a lesson in patience and humility and self control and joy. and i'm still learning...</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-41777630441465480172013-11-11T09:07:00.000-08:002013-11-11T09:07:03.639-08:00come what may<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrAsOPzc7vawk6SUJvB_tRTTQBlJPvOJ6aBuLDMwPdbZEF2bjyc4e6w0JSFK6w7fvkJKzW1nLfggi5K3goV0b9m-EBmj1cCRKnwwjS19uw8Vu4dkXspFXjnxupnVINCYzwgQHz-5vJcsG/s1600/IMG_9600.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghrAsOPzc7vawk6SUJvB_tRTTQBlJPvOJ6aBuLDMwPdbZEF2bjyc4e6w0JSFK6w7fvkJKzW1nLfggi5K3goV0b9m-EBmj1cCRKnwwjS19uw8Vu4dkXspFXjnxupnVINCYzwgQHz-5vJcsG/s640/IMG_9600.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
as a child i hated roller coasters. but i tried my best. i nodded every time my mom asked if i wanted to ride. i put my brave face on and envied my baby sisters as they strolled out the chicken exit. but not me...<gulp> i rode every ride. as i buckled myself into the ride fear bubbled in my stomach--not the excited kinda fear but the terrified. i'd close my eyes and stomp my feet on the floor every loop and hill. i hated every second. i wanted so badly to like it. i'd have to remind myself itwillbeoversoon, itwillbeoversoon in order to make it through. but if ever i was brave enough to open my eyes, i could see for miles! hills and trees and houses and people...the view was beautiful! i hardly knew because i spent most of my time with my eyes squeezed tight. there is something about that free falling feeling i just can't take.</span><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">life feels a bit like a roller coaster right now. God is the parent that buckled me in and promises me i'll be alright. He makes it clear that it's Him and not me that is in control. i'd like so much to make Him proud so i put my brave face on and envy the others that take the chicken exit. i buckle in and try my best. at the loops and hills i close my eyes and stomp my feet and try to remember all my Father tells me about being afraid. i don't like this ride. some days i have to remind myself itwillbeoversoon, itwillbeoversoon in order to make it through. if i dare open my eyes long enough...some parts of this ride are breathtaking--like nothing i could ever see from anywhere else. the landscape is painted in shades of forgiveness and redemption, humility and kindness--the view is beautiful! all beauty aside, there is something in this free falling feeling that i just can't take. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">but for Him? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">anything...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">even this falling feeling.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">faith?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">trust?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">whatever it is, i don't like this ride. but i'm buckled in and leaning towards Him--</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">come what may.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-71801082138552796342013-09-04T08:34:00.001-07:002013-09-04T08:49:19.234-07:00{adventure awaits}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9oj-g96gdTmcYQRFo83R1UntaScCm0_A4bj4cUt-kltVhxRbvKHU-A7-g5WKq5hVdfvFCljx2m7hv8KyyfLEJfZ4dpIeICx8WoVkFCcBy1VsS_mxlWs-p8pKL453nwkt0xj6sDdoD_pi0/s1600/IMG_0350.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9oj-g96gdTmcYQRFo83R1UntaScCm0_A4bj4cUt-kltVhxRbvKHU-A7-g5WKq5hVdfvFCljx2m7hv8KyyfLEJfZ4dpIeICx8WoVkFCcBy1VsS_mxlWs-p8pKL453nwkt0xj6sDdoD_pi0/s640/IMG_0350.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;">i</span> don't know about you but life keeps happening faster and faster for me. days feel like minutes and weeks resemble hours and all the sudden i haven't updated my blog or given my kids a bath in wayyyy too long! while a quick sniff can remind me that those little stinkers of mine are due for a rinse...my blog sits here waiting patiently for my words and photos while time gets away from me...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i was editing a session today when a photo jumped off the screen and made my heart flutter. this one image brought truth and tears. i had to write.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">the picture was of a bride and groom. </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">dana & ryan, </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">the couple in the photo, have a captivating love story. their tale is of a whirlwind summer romance that looks different and feels exciting, like nothing you've seen on pinterest. last minute, they scrapped the stressful wedding day (which was really more for everyone else anyway) and they went to the courthouse and made promises to each other and God, just the two of them. they decided that a lifetime was too short to fill it full of things that don't matter...and all they wanted to do was sign up for forever, so they skipped all the ordinary fuss. they decided to do it all a little simpler...and with more personal meaning. i loved hearing their love story and spending a golden morning capturing them embarking on their new and beautiful adventure.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">their love story is truly inspiring, but there was poetry & gospel in this image that made me cry... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">*the way the groom is looking back and offering his hand for his lovely bride to take. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">*the way he is one step in front of her... anxious for them to get on their way up that pretty hillside, where all the wildflowers live. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">*the way her hands are full of white dress and blue baggage...</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: large;">*the way she is making her way a little more slowly, choosing her steps carefully and minding her dress. </span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">the imagery took my breath. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">God refers to His church (me & you) as His bride and as i looked at this picture, all the sudden, dana and ryan faded to the background and all i could see was the truth hiding underneath.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">the way the groom is looking back--stretching out his arm towards his love--reminds me of the God who claimed me as His own and wrote a beautiful story for me--packed with passion & adventure. Daily He asks me to drop it all and place my free hand in His...and daily i deny His hand and make really good excuses as to why i have other things to do. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">like this groom, God has adventure on his mind. He stretches his hand out for me to grab...but so very often my hands are full. He's one step in front of me, anxious to show me the beauty that lies ahead...but my hands are <span style="font-size: large;"><b>busy</b></span>...with silly frills and personal baggage. i can't move at His pace because i have alot of practical things to carry. there are things i must tend to. and i want to watch where i'm going, so i don't trip and fall. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">because realistically, the bride in the photo will trip if she throws it all to the wind and tries to run in that dress. if she doesn't fall on her face she'll get all dirty running along that dirt path. not to mention that she probably <i>really</i> needs all that stuff in that suitcase. these excuses ring with worldly truth and practicality and that's what makes it so hard to put it all down. God asks me to travel lightly...and i keep thinking i am, i am. but am i? really? or are my arms still too full of trifles (that look significant) to let Him lead the way? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">most days i turn away from His wild call--my house needs cleaned, bills need paid, work needs done, kids need bathed and these things <i>really are important</i>! i don't think i can just let them go and ask Him what He wants me to do with my time, talents, love and money... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">it's all so very wild and free and extreme. when He asks me to love Him and love others it sounds so simple but it lives hard.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i <b>want </b>throw it all to the wind. i <b>want</b> to be the bride that runs in her wedding dress. i <b>want</b> to be swept away by Him. i <b>want</b> to step into my love story. i <b>want</b> to grab His hand with both of mine and hang on! </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">i <b>want</b> to trust Him enough to take His hand and let go of everything else. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i <b>want</b> to...but dare i?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">funny how one picture can change your morning and your mind. in the light of the truth hidden in this photograph, everything that usually fills my hands and looks important seems so very small. in this moment, i can see His outstretched arm so clearly and know... </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;"><b>adventure awaits...</b></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiltMIeah_QGwTd9M50UzxDfFsUKmJd_5bhcwh8FlcPaGEwCBf2mrdDBoIYLpKPJLFFquICcrdhrdeFynqzhk_RdfHX9lcEL3Xhu6tzEg8K8F52y-eHr8nHw6WfClYlXY__A1sggNZf6Qld/s1600/IMG_0568.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiltMIeah_QGwTd9M50UzxDfFsUKmJd_5bhcwh8FlcPaGEwCBf2mrdDBoIYLpKPJLFFquICcrdhrdeFynqzhk_RdfHX9lcEL3Xhu6tzEg8K8F52y-eHr8nHw6WfClYlXY__A1sggNZf6Qld/s640/IMG_0568.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-25161410620334785352013-05-14T11:28:00.002-07:002013-05-14T17:34:50.287-07:00{tree & sky: a love story}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgE12ozPpKRnkJxb_rcTvylXBVjq8e57ylRDdZRYcstqxuRTiRhk6mjOEckgVBApo_IGFJ2SAfE6K7eFT8aCkVASuvUiEH3u1deZUd9c6E4P98Wj-TaT5JuXO8AmMg5d-8dq_rS-4g8fR0/s1600/IMG_9144.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgE12ozPpKRnkJxb_rcTvylXBVjq8e57ylRDdZRYcstqxuRTiRhk6mjOEckgVBApo_IGFJ2SAfE6K7eFT8aCkVASuvUiEH3u1deZUd9c6E4P98Wj-TaT5JuXO8AmMg5d-8dq_rS-4g8fR0/s640/IMG_9144.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>the ever-green sings</b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>to sky-blue, </b></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">every moment </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">of e v e r y day. </span></div>
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<i style="font-size: x-large;"><b><br /></b></i>
<i style="font-size: x-large;"><b>they belong together.</b> </i><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i><br /></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">the evergreen was sculpted</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>sturdy </b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and <b>grounded</b>--</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">the perfect match </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">for wild sky</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">(who knows no bounds).</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9Lla6F5kInU38g7Jn7FTk6X-U0a04453LGB4zDonl3nkUXvQoFE397Xz7pWXFUNDT_RLDWdXsRlIxQ5Wpi3OVPQicVQ9sPHj6h4qTd4z2nT-G3IHgp1VyaV_nfvTODLQVAslSh9x9O7q/s1600/IMG_9161+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW9Lla6F5kInU38g7Jn7FTk6X-U0a04453LGB4zDonl3nkUXvQoFE397Xz7pWXFUNDT_RLDWdXsRlIxQ5Wpi3OVPQicVQ9sPHj6h4qTd4z2nT-G3IHgp1VyaV_nfvTODLQVAslSh9x9O7q/s640/IMG_9161+copy.jpg" width="425" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">evergreen knows</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">no other way to be</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">than a lover </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">of the </span><i style="font-size: x-large;">sky</i><span style="font-size: large;">. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">everyday</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">he lifts his arms--</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">everyday growing closer...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">invadingthespace </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">she craves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">he must be nearer still....</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">nearer still.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">he loves her too much</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">to hesitate.</span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">and unlike the other trees...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">the seasons</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">don't make his leaves waver. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">his constant gaze</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>surpasses</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">the yellow ways of oak. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">the evergreen's love for sky... </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">is <b>resolute.</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>steadfast. </b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>unswerving. </b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">she's not always easy to love...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">some days </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">he must dig his feet in earth</span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and <i><b>lean in.</b></i> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">the couple couldn't compliment </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">if they didn't also conflict.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">sky loves him back...</span></div>
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiosX_u717NVCV5kDDksOGaxFch8pFXdnkcYnLkHbJ6CbZwrn2ROUsv8W4GKxQHyvLGDZdkdPu28uzy7vBn4ePYOqocs1POKYHT5jD8t9LUAwsLQV4SrWLuUkhcnXC832nZLncl2NRK-48e/s1600/IMG_9173.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiosX_u717NVCV5kDDksOGaxFch8pFXdnkcYnLkHbJ6CbZwrn2ROUsv8W4GKxQHyvLGDZdkdPu28uzy7vBn4ePYOqocs1POKYHT5jD8t9LUAwsLQV4SrWLuUkhcnXC832nZLncl2NRK-48e/s400/IMG_9173.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;">in <i>her</i> way, </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">with wind and sun.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">she is vast </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and untethered...</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">surprising him everyday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">her breezes make him quiver; </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">her blue eyes wink from behind </span><span style="font-size: large;">low slung clouds. </span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">she flirts in starlight--</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">when everyone else is asleep. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">although she is <i>passionate</i> and <i>ever changing</i>...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">she is somehow </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">always there.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"> </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">her moods change by the moment, </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">but she apologies...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">in sunrise and sunset. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">when it's gray</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">it's her that pushes off</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">and withholds all hue...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">it's ok.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">evergreen understands "always"...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">and knows that it is <i>always</i> sky </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">that brings the rain. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">he has come to depend on it.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdxlE7nAgJhLjAvc4TOiUw0V_6fn1TSUWnou4M7r7TrEWcJajuzSXZyLtT35IZYxcVR4dbKyI_UwB43DWHhSv4qc8XIqVUfZOFqG-m6jurGbIDFVBdZYUJRY1s7nXB6LFnsLO4pL9IBub2/s1600/IMG_9165+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdxlE7nAgJhLjAvc4TOiUw0V_6fn1TSUWnou4M7r7TrEWcJajuzSXZyLtT35IZYxcVR4dbKyI_UwB43DWHhSv4qc8XIqVUfZOFqG-m6jurGbIDFVBdZYUJRY1s7nXB6LFnsLO4pL9IBub2/s400/IMG_9165+copy.jpg" width="400" /></a><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>they belong together.</i></b> </span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">though sometimes he is</span></div>
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</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">*prickly* </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and his earthbound ways are </span><span style="font-size: large;">dull.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">she forgives because she knows </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">she can be </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">fickle</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">and cold.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">for them,</span></div>
<div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">forever is no question--</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">too much depends on tree & sky.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span><b style="font-size: x-large;"><i>they belong together.</i></b></div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">theirs is not the kind of love</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">that causes a great stir--</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">like sand and surf. </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">they don't have people lining up. </span></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-size: large;">most times you walk right underneath </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">and miss </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i>the constant conversation.</i></b> </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">but if you ever bother... </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">to look up </span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">and in </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-size: large;">on this <b><i>everyday</i></b> love...</span></div>
<div>
<b style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><i><br /></i></b></div>
<div>
<b style="font-size: x-large; text-align: center;"><i> it's enough to take your breath.</i></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-9375834305888104942013-04-25T11:19:00.002-07:002013-04-25T11:41:16.355-07:00God's plan for my tastebuds<br />
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as i was stirring my little red pot of chicken for burritos this afternoon, i was graced with a flash back of about 7 years ago. <br />
<br />
i caught a glimpse of me in my kitchen trying to decide between spaghetti, something frozen or eating out (again). <br />
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i couldn't hide my smile at the memory. i couldn't fight the joy that overwhelmed me. i couldn't help but thank God for just how far He's brought me and that He even had a plan for my tastebuds.<br />
<br />
see, when God says He gives LIFE...and life ABUNDANTLY...He means it. not just in the ways you expect--but in ways you couldn't imagine. i knew i was signing up for Him to change my heart. i had no idea He wanted to reimagine the food i put in my mouth too. the wildness and mystery of our God is what i love most about Him. i can't even guess at what He's gonna do next...i'm just learning to hold on tight...it's gonna be amazing.<br />
<br />
growing up, we didn't eat out much. we mostly ate at home. my mom cooked the same 5 meals in rotation...spaghetti, tuna casserole, fish sticks, chicken with rice and pizza. i didn't have any complaints about these meals. in fact...i loved em. but i had no idea what i was missing...<br />
<br />
<enter eric.> eric eats everything. eric likes everything (except for cooked cabbage). i was so lucky to meet the love of my life at 12...(crazy, i know) but he loved me through my awkward years so i had to hang on:) eric (and his family) took me out to eat more times than i'd ever been in my entire life. we went for mexican, we went for italian, we went for burgers and we went for pizza. everywhere we went...i ordered chicken fingers and fries. he'd try to talk me out of it. he'd beg me to try a bite of his mannicotti or his white pizza or his fajitas or his burger with an egg on top. but i loved my chicken fingers and i was loyal to those little guys. i didn't think i was missing out at all...<br />
<br />
truth is, i grew up in a pretty fearful family....and that fear transferred over even to food. my mom was a picky eater and only cooked what she liked and warned us about all that other nasty food. and so...i bought in. my culinary world was small and safe. <br />
<br />
when i was about 15 i started to wear down a bit...eric convinced me to try some different things...and i did. including chinese food....i'd never had it before. now i can't imagine living without that wonderful flavored MSG! those crab rangoon...that fried rice and spicy chicken! i didn't love it at first but i warmed up to it...and then i couldn't get enough. slowly, slowly i started trying things...but nothing too crazy. to this day eric laughs at my adventurous eating (and takes full credit for it).<br />
<br />
when eric and i got married and had kiddos...cooking was a "thing". i was the tomboy of the family and had never been taught to cook much of anything but spaghetti. i also had an aversion to cooking for a man. it felt a bit primitive to me. i hated the societal expectation, i hated the loneliness of the kitchen and vulnerability of making something for someone....all of that aside...i didn't have the foggiest idea of how to actually cook. what do people even eat? i knew i'd had my fill of tuna casserole and fish sticks but...what else do you make? <br />
<br />
eric was super sensitive to my craziness about meal preparation and he never expected me to cook. in fact, (i'm ashamed to admit this but) i wouldn't even let him leave me in the kitchen alone...for real. he either helped me cook or sat and talked to me as i stirred my something frozen or strained my spaghetti noodles. i can't say enough about his patience with me in this area. i was sensitive to feeling like someones servant...he thanked me and made me feel like a queen for making simple pasta with red sauce out of the jar (and still does). <br />
<br />
life took some crazy turns about that time in our lives and our whole world kinda turned upside down. (that's the tidy short story) God, so mercifully, caught us and set us upright again....and somewhere in there awakened my taste for all His world had to offer. somewhere in the upheaval i found freedom...fear no longer had a place in my decision making. oddly, even my food choices. there is freedom in facing your worst fears...and walking through them....because if you can make it through that...what else do you have to fear? certainly not shrimp scampi, salad with fruit in it, burgers with guacamole on them and yucca fries dipped in coconut sauce!<br />
<br />
somehow, i became a culinary adventurer. i tried everything set in front of me. some i liked. some i didn't. some i LOVED! but the fear was gone. food was just exciting. food began to be an experience for me. trying new restaurants with friends and discovering new favorites was like my new hobby! i fell in love with foods i had never before tasted. i was amazed at all i had missed out on for so long. <br />
<br />
one problem...i still couldn't cook. <br />
<br />
somewhere in the crazy shuffle of life i figured out some of the issues i had with cooking. cooking for someone was alot like...love. and the problem was, lexi didn't love well. there was something about offering something to someone that seemed raw to me. it all seemed unguarded and risky. well...my new life was one big risk and God's love fed me and maybe...just maybe...cooking something...offering up myself, was possible if He was by my side. the idea of giving away just a taste of the love He had lavished upon me was a step into grace. so...i started cooking.<br />
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baking came more naturally to me. desserts are easy to please....no one is counting on you and i'm pretty good at making things pretty. so i startedwith desserts. muffins, pies, cakes, fried cinnamon tortilla chips. i called my friends for their favorite recipes and...<br />
<br />
i know it might sound silly but God really used 3 of my good friends to teach me how to cook. <br />
<br />
lyndsey taught me what it looked like to feed your family every night. night after night she cooks and cooks and cooks...rarely the same meal. she meal plans each week and tries new and scary things all the time...some times it is wonderful and sometimes her family agrees it's nothing they want to make again...and either way...it's okay. i know that's simple but...for me it was big. i still call lynz with cooking questions. there are a few of her meals i make that i literally call her every time i make them...for the temperature...or an ingredient ..or just to tell her how excited i am to make her recipe! her kitchen is the most wonderful place to be. i love to sit on her counters and chat. oh, another thing? you haven't had thanksgiving dinner until you've had lyndsey's.<br />
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courtney also taught me how to cook. she is my healthy friend. she taught me about agave nectar and other sugar substitutes. she taught me about balanced meal planning and to shop around the outside of the grocery store for the fresh stuff and skip the middle as much as you can. she graduated me from cooking out of boxes to breaking out a cutting board and making my own. i don't buy canned anything because of her. because of her i know that the best produce is fresh or frozen. she taught me how to read a label and any time i need to know the very BEST recipe for something simple...i ask court because i know she has made it 5 different ways and has settled on the winner.<br />
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my last cooking hero is sara. her food belongs in magazines. she is one of the most creative cooks EVER! we joke that i think in colors and she dreams in scent and taste. she's in love with produce. seriously...i think she talks to it as it ripens on her counter:) all my favorite recipes are hers. she creates crazy food combinations and blows me away consistently she cooks everything from scratch...her seafood lasagna, pink and yellow muffins and margarita cookies are 3 of my very favorite things i've ever tasted. every night her husband has the joys of tasting 5 star food...sara just started an amazing blog called a patchwork picnic here. make her food. it will never disappoint. <a href="http://apatchworkpicnic.blogspot.com/">http://apatchworkpicnic.blogspot.com/</a><br />
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today...i meal plan and scan pinterest for new and fun things to try. i have bulging recipe folders filled with all my favorites, some of sara's and lynz' and court's. i make dinner by myself most nights...which is big for me:) and i like it. sometimes i love it. i like making colorful things...i like making things from scratch. i like making eric's favorites and what i like most...is having people over and feeding them. it's crazy just how far He's brought me!!!<br />
<br />
anymore, eric and i love looking for interesting and local places to eat. most nights we can't help but try the craziest thing on the menu:) it makes me laugh at just how little that looks like the old "me"!!! i can't tell you how long it's been since i had chicken fingers!<br />
<br />
there is a reason psalm says, <span style="font-size: x-large;">taste</span> and see that the Lord is good.<br />
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He's so good....He even has a plan for your tastebuds! <br />
<br />
at least He did for mine...isn't that just crazy?!?<br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-80456419292148008412013-03-12T13:18:00.003-07:002013-03-12T13:18:40.593-07:00waking up<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">i'm just coming out of my winter doldrums and for the first time in too long i feel excited for life. i'm writing and sketching and singing and dreaming. <b>i wonder if this is how the flowers feel in spring? is this the same sensation that makes those little seeds rise out of the mud and put some purple petals on? it must be something similar because if i were a seed i could see myself doing the same.</b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">wonderboy has a fascination</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"> with seeds and growing. he told me himself the he is "ovsessed" with seeds--avacado seeds, apple seeds, mango seeds and (especially) green bean seeds. he picks em out and puts em in his pocket so we can plant them and have more. i love his appetite for life! this weekend we are planting a lil (mini) garden of our very own and asking the God of the seeds to whisper his magic on them so we can watch them grow. i'm so excited for my kiddos to help bring something to life!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">spring is so full of possibility. even though i live in an amazingly mild climate...i have the fever. that lovely spring fever that overwhelms my life with beginnings every year. all my best ideas are born in spring. there is something truly enchanting about the season change and the earth erupting in lavendar and gold and green. my mind and soul can't help but join in...dreaming new dreams, making new things, and grabbing all my tomorrows and giving them a healthy shake. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">i've been living life half asleep lately and it feels so good to wake up to this world.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;"><i>I’m ready, God, so ready, ready from head to toe. Ready to sing, ready to raise a God-song: “<b>Wake</b>, soul! <b>Wake</b>, lute! <b>Wake</b> <b>up</b>, you sleepyhead sun!”</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">--psalm 108:1-2</span></div>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-66316114433301251552013-03-10T22:29:00.003-07:002013-03-11T08:05:13.596-07:00dawnless mornings & seaside sunrises<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>i live by the atlantic ocean.</b> every day the sun comes up over the water creating golden poems & coral prose.</span> </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">some days i'm there to watch it all unfold like my favorite story. but not most days. most days i'm cuddled in my bed...glorying in those coveted moments when my husband leaves for work and i get the whole bed to myself. i've gotten up for the atlantic sunrise a handful of times since i've lived here...and each time i am convinced that the golden show was worth every minute of lost sleep. each seaside sunrise is my Father's gift to me.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i can't see a sunrise without it reminding me of a sept 4 years ago where when the sun didn't come up quite so beautifully. i was driving in my car...after a sleepless night. "the" night after which my life would never be the same. my husband of 7 years had just told me our story together was over. i knew it was coming...things were bad...but i couldn't have been more devastated. after staying up all night in shock, trying to figure out what my tomorrow looked like, i jumped in the car and decided to drive towards the sunrise. i was hoping the sunrise would be God's love letter to me the very morning i thought i needed it most. so i drove east and cried. i drove into a black sky that slowly turned a shade of darkest indigo and then slate...and then light gray and finally white and it started to rain. that was the morning the sun didn't come up. the one damn morning i really needed it to. i was watching and waiting. i wanted the pink and yellow sunrise to be my link to the God who painted it. i wanted this sunrise to symbolize a life of me putting one foot in front of the other and doing life alone and THAT morning...the sun came up quietly behind clouds. no gold. no coral. no poetry or prose. no love letter to a lost soul. i begged God for a brilliant sunrise. and i cried all the harder when it didn't happen...not even a few golden rays.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">the next few months after my dawnless morning were a pure and simple miracle. somehow, as only He could, God put me AND my marriage back together. He didn't just tape the broken pieces together with duck tape either--He sewed it like a tapestry...making the ugly, broken pieces look like His best artwork. i won't lie--it was hard. it hurt. there weren't many sunrises...most mornings looked quite gray. but He made something from nothing. He created something beautiful in me through such an ugly time. because i had come through the worst i was fearful of nothing. i learned who i was and what was important. the God of the universe pruned my life and gave me and my husband a partnership we never had before. we trudged through this dawnless season and came out on the other side, together.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>today i live by the atlantic ocean.</b></span> <span style="font-size: x-large;">me and my husband of 11 years and our 2 beautiful kids. </span> <span style="font-size: x-large;">every day the sun comes up over the water creating golden poems and coral prose.</span> The great God of the universe might not have given me a sunrise over some soggy missouri soybean field that morning 4 years ago but every day i live here He makes it up to me. i've come to the conclusion that i was asking the wrong question on that dawnless day. i was asking God for a simple soybean sunrise to tell me i would be okay <b>ALONE</b>. He didn't wanna make that promise to me. He didn't wanna send me that love note. He had a little something else in mind. a lot of pain, a bit of growth and hundreds of special oceanside sunrises with my childhood sweetheart by my side. today i am a stay at home momma who gets to write and read and walk by the ocean. i get to paint and create and dream big dreams with nothing holding me back. today i know myself deeper and more fully because in those miraculous months after the sun didn't come up i begged God to tell me who i was...and He did. the last few years my life look alot more like i always wanted it to and never dreamed it really could. i get to live life next to a man that lives his dreams and plots on how we can better raise our little family. a man who chooses life instead of the fog of work and admiration and success he used to be lost in. a partner i can lean on and respect. today, God busies Himself giving me gifts like these i didn't know to ask for. gifts i take for granted like the atlantic sunrises i often sleep through. This Father of mine gives the best gifts-<i>-not the ones we ask for, but the ones we don't even know are available. </i> not the one lonely sunrise but countless seaside dawns lovelier than <b><span style="font-size: x-large;">my wildest imaginings. </span></b><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-54442262767294724152013-01-08T20:31:00.001-08:002013-01-08T20:34:10.211-08:00taste & see<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>dear</b><b> new year</b></span><span style="font-size: large;">,</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"> thank you--once again, for the fresh start. usually i meet you with a long list of resolutions...things i want you to help me change. along with the list, i harbor secret hopes and demanding expectations for your days. i'd like to apologize for past years. i'm so very sorry--i am a bit of a bossy dreamer. i have these great ideas and i just get to thinking that they are the best thing for me and you. i know typically, if we don't ride off into my whims and adventures i tend to sulk a bit. my Creator made me quite determined to milk the most of my minutes on this earth and so sometimes i bring <b>life</b> to your days with my dreamy ideals and other times i <b>kill</b> your moments with my demands of them. i guess it's my best and worst quality. so, as you know, i usually pack your january with a bunch of dull things i really don't like (but i think it's for the best) and then, come february, my resolutions have faded and shame and regret take over. oddly enough, the good list i greet you with in january always seems to become the judge of my life and i am weighed down by it and no longer able to fly free...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">this year, if it's okay by you-- i'd like to do things a little differently.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i've decided to revise and revive the list. i'm changing my focus this year. i'm not inviting any negative voices in to preside over us. while i <b>am</b> still making a list for us--instead of making the usual grand plans--i am aiming to live in your smallest moments and make room for my Father to join me. my theme is: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">taste and see. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;">(psalm 34:8)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;"><b><span class="text Ps-34-8" id="en-MSG-6211" style="background-color: white; position: relative;">Open your mouth and taste, open your eyes and see—</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><span class="text Ps-34-8" style="background-color: white; position: relative;">how good <span class="small-caps" style="font-variant: small-caps;">God</span> is.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><span class="text Ps-34-8" style="background-color: white; position: relative;">Blessed are you who run to him.</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">so this year i'm making a list of wonderful things to taste and see. things i don't wanna miss. i want to make sure i squeeze them all in somewhere between your january and december. instead of the usual skinny and self disciplined resolutions i'd like to go with something that cheers on life and creates space for the Creator to do something wonderful. this time next year i want to look back on a year where i tasted and saw that He was good...and i didn't hesitate to run to Him. so here's our list:</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>1. try new foods at every culinary intersection. when given a choice...get adventurous.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>2. buy some pretty local produce. taste it. see it. find His goodness in it.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>3. go to the beach more. it's like thanksgiving for your eyes...and it's just 10 minutes away. waste the gas and just go.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>4. drink more tea. drink it slowly. drink it with friends. drink it with the kiddos. note the taste and color...</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>5. find your very favorite color in this whole entire world. name it. frame it. collect things this color all year long.</i></span></div>
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<i style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">6. eat more peanut butter...share any new peanutty recipes with family, friends and strangers. see what happens. </i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>7. go one day without seeing (no contacts)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>8. go one day without tasting (fast)</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><i>9. celebrate beauty unabashedly wherever you find it. don't let it go unnoticed. in people. in places. inside, outside. let this year be a beauty hunt. collect it when you can, take a picture or put it in your pocket. open your eyes and see it everywhere.</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">love,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">love,</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;"><b>lexi</b></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-46914024228216065962012-12-17T10:36:00.004-08:002012-12-17T14:13:42.840-08:00{my musings...}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEp2Byw-SW5wK0TPSw-TKY0HMesqPr_7tZSrHD9L7DhvCwn44TCHjltsIiI0YpNeT2ncb0uTpITMo0EL0cB9rAQUDXfdxB5wSXvCe43BuuPH31FzEWH2DN42PQAV-OaZVzNgWp-KQvoDv/s1600/IMG_2902.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlEp2Byw-SW5wK0TPSw-TKY0HMesqPr_7tZSrHD9L7DhvCwn44TCHjltsIiI0YpNeT2ncb0uTpITMo0EL0cB9rAQUDXfdxB5wSXvCe43BuuPH31FzEWH2DN42PQAV-OaZVzNgWp-KQvoDv/s640/IMG_2902.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i live a quiet, slow life. i pull over for sunsets and am infatuated by sea foam. i make a living capturing beautiful moments. i don't watch much tv and never turn on the news. i don't own a gun and never will. i believe whole heartedly in a big God that can run the world without me...and i do my best to live like it. i like to keep the focus on living in the moment as much as anyone can. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">last friday, i heard of the connecticut tragedy through my sister. i spent the next few hours glued to my computer searching for updates--watching closely as they interviewed shocked children and falsely reported bits of news and gossip intermittently. i was fixated on this tragedy...trying to gather information in lieu of the control i craved. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">when my kindergarten son jumped in my car after school later that day, i could barely look at him without losing it. i was so lucky. i was so very very lucky to have two wonderful, healthy children. i was startled by the feelings of guilt that rumbled in my soul. i felt guilty that my kids came home on friday and 20 other mom's sweet babies did not. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i wish i could say i loved my kids better these last two days but honestly, i grieved all weekend. couldn't shake the dark cloud in my soul from all the heartbreak i saw on my computer screen. i couldn't stop thinking about the kids. the moms. the police. the town. the gunman. his brother. i guess i'm the sensitive type--that's why i don't watch the news in the first place. this horrific story sucked me in and spit me out, and rendered me useless. my imagination took over and ran so many scenarios in my head it made me tired. i found myself scampering back and forth from trying to find answers to searching for someone to shake and blame. the answers and the blaming made me feel, once again...as if i had some control over what happened...thousands of miles from me...in a school i'd never before heard of...to children and families i'd never met. silly, yes...but all too human. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">over the weekend i noticed some people only needed hours to mutate this tender situation into a political debate. i was surprised to find that this was the time for the great gun debate and the lack of government help for the mentally handicapped. the more i thought about them and their opinions, the more those people were just like me...trying to find someone to blame. trying to find just the right angle to grasp some precious control in this chaotic world we live in. less guns, more guns, better health care...i heard and saw it all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i took it all in and was greatly saddened as a greater perspective pervaded my thinking. there really is no answer to this one. but, oh how we want one! we are all searching for it. we want the police to come back with an investigation that uncovers all the tell tale signs of why this young boy made these choices. we want that information to be able to stop any chance of a "next time". but whatever the investigation turns up--there is not, and never will be, a clear person to blame here. there is no reason for this. there is no legislation that can help and no doors big and strong enough to protect our children. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i guess i think that this connecticut tragedy, like all the rest of them...is a human problem. one that's been around forever. only the near sighted can believe that this is a new problem. the weapons we have make it look a little different but in Bible times as well as now...hurt people, hurt people. always have and always will. guns or not. laws or not. health care or not. hurt people, hurt people and the only way out of this crazy cycle of hurt is...LOVE. love is the only known antidote of hurt. love heals. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">i'm simple. i'm idealistic. i know i'm a little out there but ... i think LOVE is the only preventative to this human problem. i wonder, who was in adam's life? loving him? befriending him? as a child...as a teenager...through his parents divorce...at his dr's appointments? who cared about him before this day? who noticed him? who called out his strengths and encouraged him??? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">here's what i know...love changes things. and if i want things to change, i think it's my calling to love my neighbors...my friends...my friends kids...MY KIDS...my kids friends...people i meet in the store or at a basketball game. i think the very tiniest thing i can do in response to such a crisis is to love those around me. not just the ones i want to. not just the ones that smell good and make me laugh. not just my own kids or family either. no, it's not that simple. i think it's my calling to love all those i come in contact with. hurt will always happen. there is no getting around that. but if love heals hurt and i have some to give...why i am i not passing more of it out?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">this world changing love i'm talking about, it must be bold. this love can't take no for an answer. this kind of love sails over uncomfortability. love loves awkward. love does it anyway. this brand of love doesn't need guns to change things...it needs people...people willing to love. love hard. love with their whole lives.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Courier New, Courier, monospace;">we americans make love into something we keep very private. we take care of our own and that is all. we barely give our neighbor's christmas cookies, for heaven sake! it's very american to like our space and our boundaries and our privacy. people are weird-ed out by acts of love because we are independent and strong...and sadly, love has become a bit of a rarity. </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">we are all too busy arguing on facebook about whether or not teachers should have assault rifles to look around and practice loving the hurt people all around us. our debates on fb and these very words on my blog...they don't require much...it's easier to argue over guns and healthcare then to simply, love each other. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">now, lets be honest, this kind of love takes work...sacrifice. it may <i>sound</i> over simplified but love is hard. it's selfless. it's time consuming. it's an interruption. it requires slowing down and looking around. it requires getting out of OUR comfort zone to help. to hug. to listen. love can be expensive. love can be tiring. </span><span style="font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: x-large;"><b>but if love is the only thing that can promise healing in this broken world my children live in...then i will give my life to love.</b></span><br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-10446323788005456632012-08-10T15:54:00.001-07:002012-11-01T10:51:38.621-07:00roadtrip rant<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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i just got back from a long drive to see my baby sister. if i had my choice of people to be related to, i'd pick my 4 siblings every time. we have a fierce love and loyalty to each other. it's so very hard living so far from them all... <br />
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so, normally my sister trips are under better circumstances--we laugh and cook and laugh and eat and laugh and talk...and laugh some more...and eat some more:) this time notsomuch. my sis savannah just moved to virginia and had a weeklong stay in the icu. her husband works out of town and stayed with her as long as he could...but practically, he had to get back to work after a week. so, i had to go. work, life, family, to do lists, money and everything else could wait. my sister was alone and sick and just needed someone...whether SHE thought so or not. so we packed some bags and booked a rental car (neither of our cars were up for a roadtrip) and went. <br />
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eric drove me and those children of mine to pick up the priceline-super-cheap rental car for our lil roadtrip...fully expecting a lil prius or corolla...instead, the kind mustached man at the counter gave me the keys to a brand new red mustang. ARE U KIDDING ME? this sister trip just got a lil extra wonderful!!! i'm not a sports car kinda girl...but for a road trip? up the coast? with my kiddos? in the summer? you betcha. the 3 of us just pretended we owned that fine pony for a few glorious days. i tried my best not to think about how i was cheating on my maroon 2001 chevy malibu with no air conditioner or cd player waiting for me at home and just drove...<br />
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we went north. past savannah georgia, past charleston sc, past myrtle beach and up to richmond va.<br />
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we sang some taylor swift and drew some silly pictures and stopped at red boxes for more movies all along the way. my kids were perfect angels. they are roadtrip warriors. they know a good roadtrip requires little to no whining, lots of good music, snacks and entertaining yourself. man, i love those two. <br />
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with rhett's curly head playing gi joes in the backseat and jae riding shotgun with sunglasses and a good book...there were no backseat squabbles. they were both tickled that we were driving the "fast car" and were on their very best behavior.<br />
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that left me & music & the mustang & an open road. i literally took one highway for all but 30 min of the drive--it was ideal. the luxury of uninterrupted thinking time was like a spa for my soul. there was nothing to do but drive and think. there was no guilt. there was nothing else i could be doing--should be doing. no dishes or pictures or fun games or sunshine a-wasting...just me & driving. i am so sidetracked on a daily basis. i have a bit of a.d.h.d. that keeps me...in a constant state of crazy. so when i can focus on just one thing...it's beautiful. it was a wonderful blur. <br />
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with my gramma's weather navigation helping me all the way--we eventually made it to vannah. we talked her ear off (rhett mostly), loved on her, fed her, babied her a little and saw some sights. it was so very good to see her home and that she was on the mend from her awful week in the hospital. i so would have regretted not going up to make sure that she was going to be okay...it was a good trip...but i couldn't help looking forward to that wonderful mustang drive home.<br />
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we got in the car and did much of the same thing on the way back...but instead of north we drove south. i was a little sad driving away from my sister (always am) so we made up a car game called the happy list. jae and i went through the whole alphebet thinking of something that starts with each letter that makes us totally blissfully happy. she'd write hers and mine--hers and mine. than when we were done and satisfied with our answers we asked rhett his unbiased opinion on which was better. anne of green gables or airplanes. bubble tea or baths. the circus or citrus smells. i won. :) it cheered me right up and on we drove. i spent the whole drive up to virginia untangling my very crazy, knotted, un-looked after thoughts so the drive back i was able to come to some clear conclusions...and here they are. i just have to share a bit of my crazy...<br />
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i've been living a very frustrating life as of late. i've been expecting perfection from myself and those around me. i have had the crazy notion that if i practice doing the things that don't come easy to me (organization, cleanliness, silence, self restraint, responsibility, punctuality, faithfulness, etc) that soon enough not only would i be creative and fun and flexible and thoughtful...i would be all those other wonderful things too. well...i've spent the last year discovering that is NOT how life works. but it's the doctrine under which i've been ordering my life. what has happenned is i am expending so much energy trying to get better at the things i stink at that...i have no energy left to be what i am. what He made me. i am not saying He made me perfect and i just "need to be me". i am not saying that there is not room for growth. but the growth must happen in His time and under His masterful soul tending hand otherwise...well...i've found there is little light in the world.<br />
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all of my life people have pointed at me and said things like, "you are too ____." fill in the blank with things like loud, opinionated, weird, random, late, irresponsible. and i've felt those things like i feel everything...very intensely. so in my new start in florida i've tried not to be those things...because alot of those things have gotten me in trouble. with my fresh florida start i wanted to be the best version of myself ever...and yet...it's been so very confusing. i've been so frustrated with trying to be someone else for all the noblest reasons. <br />
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somewhere between virginia and florida He uncovered the truth that He doesn't want me to change myself...HE wants to redeem who i am. BIG thought (for me at least). this thought brought relief to my heart and tears to my eyes. He wants to take what i already am--my loud, opinionated day dreaming idealistic self and He wants to change none of that...He just wants to use it for His good instead of my own...AH HA! so very simple (it always is). <br />
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i've been trying to inch grace out of my life. i've been thinking that He wants me to be more like Him...He's probably ready to see me change and grow and i'm going too slow. but in my rush...i ended up right back where i started....basking in His grace. His grace + nothing. and here i was trying so hard...<br />
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i got out of that mustang a different girl. i feel like i've been trying to clean the mansion of my soul for the last year...a mansion that has some wonderful things to enjoy but i never let myself sit down. there was always another dusty corner or dirty bathroom i had to tend to. it was work work work. my Father was shaking His head the whole time saying something like, "martha, martha" i'm sure. but i was too busy to hear His voice. i thought i knew what He wanted....obedience, self discipline, growth...but turns out all He wanted was me. He didn't want an un-lexi version of lexi...He just wanted me as is....and He could handle the changing. He wants the airheady, irresponsible, un-phone call returning me. <br />
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this is my road trip truth. it feels like i just stepped out of the library and into the book. everything looks wonderful again. everything looks exciting and colorful. and the knot of frustration that was stealing all my strength...yea, He untangled that. i just had to drive 22 hours to create time to see what He wanted to show me.<br />
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i love roadtrips...and rants...and freedom. <br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-38189248264456262142012-07-23T13:54:00.001-07:002012-07-23T13:57:39.464-07:00{my sea change}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">sea change</span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">1. <span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; cursor: default; position: static; text-align: left;">a</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; cursor: default; position: static; text-align: left;">striking</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; position: static; text-align: left;">change,</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; position: static; text-align: left;">as</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; position: static; text-align: left;">in</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; position: static; text-align: left;">appearance,</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; cursor: default; position: static; text-align: left;">often</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; position: static; text-align: left;">for</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; position: static; text-align: left;">the</span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;"> </span><span id="hotword" name="hotword" style="background-color: white; position: static; text-align: left;">better.</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">2. any major transformation or alteration.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #b45f06; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; font-size: large;">3. a transformation brought about by the sea.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">this weekend stirred my soul. i have lots of time to think lately...i'm doing little but sitting and editing all the wonderful photos i took on my latest trip to kansas city. i'm listening to good music and spending lots of minutes talking to my Creator. our talks go something like me begging for direction and Him being quiet. (sigh) rhett is getting big...my momma duties are slowly and steadily waning. when he's in school...then what? photography full time? back to school full time? these are my questions and all i've heard in return is </span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">{silence}. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">but sometime this weekend a sea change has occured. a change in the deep waters of my soul and because of this i've decided to do a few things. things new and scary to me. a few bucket list items and few things that before this sea change i never dreamed i'd ever want to do...let alone actually invite into my life. this sea change has brought about 3 specific things to the surface.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">1. i'm learning to swim.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">i'm athletic. it's not like i'm gonna drown when i jump in the deep end but i've always been the girl that said, "nah, i just don't like to swim". so i'd tan poolside. it's so unlike me to sit on the side but in this case i would just take a dip when i got hot. i went in the ocean til i felt a little creeped out and then i'd start swimming for shore. my swim avoidance is deep seeded. some scary abuse related things happened to me in swimming pools as a kid and i guess i've held onto that and made it part of who i am and...i'm done with that now. i'm learning to swim. front stroke, back stroke--all of it. i still need to find a teacher...but figure He'll bring one along. my goal is ocean swimming without that scrambly feeling inside. i'm oddly excited to jump in a pool and feel like "i got this". who knows, maybe there is some surfing in my future;)</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">2. starting tomorrow i'm getting up every morning at 6:30am to meet God and the ocean.</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">i am not a morning person. until now i could think of nothing on God's green earth that could get me up at that evil hour. until i met the ocean...and now it's only 10 minutes from my front door. starting tomorrow i'm waking up before my family, donning my workout clothes, grabbing my Bible and maybe a journal and heading for the door. i'm hoping to read and journal for the first bit and then go for a run/walk on the beach to begin each day. it sounds glorious to me. i'm so excited to start! i want to invite beauty into my everyday life...aaaaand a little self disipline. any one who knows me knows that this is no small undertaking...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">3. last but not least...i'm taking guitar lessons. </span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">this might seem silly to you. but i want to invite new things into my life. i want to be able to take music with me everywhere i go. i want to be able to take a guitar along to the beach and worship my Creator one day. an ipod or begging someone to come along to play music for me just won't cut it anymore. i love music. it comes pretty easy to me. it's gonna happen. music lessons aren't just for my kiddos. (although i'm hoping to teach jae every day when i get home from my lessons.) so i'm on the hunt for a cheap guitar...i think i have someone to teach me already...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">in the scope of things...these 3 things are miniscule. but they are big to me. i don't wanna be scared. i wanna invite beauty into my life. and i wanna do new things. i still don't know what i'm going to do next year when rhett goes to school. still asking Him daily but i'm taking a few steps away from me and towards Him and i'm excited to see what He will do...</span></div>
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<span style="color: #333333; font-family: verdana;">this is my sea change. </span></div>
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<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-47341837618744636662012-06-07T19:30:00.001-07:002012-06-07T19:38:56.077-07:00{mud caked moments}<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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since moving to florida i've seen a certain kinda freedom flourish in my husband. i think it must be the combination of the salty air and the magic of moving. there is something about moving far away from normal that gives a person the freedom to be different. sometimes when you stay in one place for awhile you get used to everyone around you telling you who you are and as homey as home is, it can be a harsh environment for change. it seems to me when everything is new it gives birth to even more newness--like a spring of the soul. don't get me wrong...it's not all sunny. there is lots of rain but it's a season of growth just the same. it's a fresh start in your head and heart...if nothing else. <br />
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this move has been such an adventure for our family! that spirit of adventure has taken hold of eric and i and we've made a habit of dropping everything and going to the beach and driving around looking for never-before-seen things. it's like we have eyes for the everyday again and when everything is an adventure it turns thursday nights into muddy messes:)<br />
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today, thursday, was jaeda's first day o summer and it was rainy...and has been all week. ugh. or as rhett would say, "that's boo." this afternoon, eric called me from work and said,<br />
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"hey, when i get home have the kiddos dressed in clothes they can get messy in...i've been staring out my window at this muddy field all day and i just kinda wanna go play in it. if this rain keeps up we are going to find a muddy field to jump in!"<br />
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i was super excited and a bit surprised...these wild ideas are usually mine! i kinda love messes and was super excited for something fun to do on another boring rainy day, so as soon as eric got home from work we loaded our curious kids up and went on a search for a muddy field and pond size puddles.<br />
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:) we haven't had this much fun together in a looooong time. we parked at an empty park, turned the radio up and left the windows down and played in the warm summer rain. we belly flopped and puddle stomped...we slid and skid and wrestled and rolled. it. was. awesome. <br />
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at one point the girl turned to me giggling and said, "oh my gosh, you are a MESS! you have mud all over your face...it kinda looks like poop!"<br />
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i laughed.<br />
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her comment was purely ridiculous...because that girl was covered in a lovely mixture of sand, dirt, grass and rainwater...<br />
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and then i heard that still small voice. i knew it was that spirit voice that sneaks even into these silly seconds and (if you are listening) makes teachable moments out of mud caked memories.<br />
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somewhere inside i heard a whisper. "and that is how insanely ridiculous it sounds to me when you look at another child of mine in judgement".<br />
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what? whoa.<br />
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i blinked and looked at my filthy daughter. moments before she had literally been rolling in the mud...and then she got up and laughed at how dirty i was...<br />
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this is how the Father feels about my judgement of others. this is how silly it sounds to Him when i, in my sin filthy state...have the audacity to turn to another dirty soul and say,<br />
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"oh, wow, now you're a mess!"<br />
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hmmmmmmm....<br />
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i went back to puddle jumping with the kiddos. we splished and splashed until we'd all had enough. we laid towels on the carseats, opened the windows and turned up the music and sang all the way home. we all fought over the showers and made some dinner and as i tucked my clean kids in their beds on the first day of summer i was thankful.<br />
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thankful for summer rain, for an adventurous husband and for teachable mud caked moments with my Father. <br />
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-33531037949381569502012-02-03T08:21:00.000-08:002012-02-03T19:14:27.220-08:00snowstorms & symphonies<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wrsox-ZSN153xxlNmy7yHfBFiittSSjKO2c0Vk3z9ZurazE5hXSLF-KKzNIvY2XkyGIkCeiljIyZBsNrwwr1NfxETWmCKQSQgC0dQucMJ3RgnzP39Etz9ukAvC43kUArLDBgk5HNPyX1/s1600/F+L_222.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_wrsox-ZSN153xxlNmy7yHfBFiittSSjKO2c0Vk3z9ZurazE5hXSLF-KKzNIvY2XkyGIkCeiljIyZBsNrwwr1NfxETWmCKQSQgC0dQucMJ3RgnzP39Etz9ukAvC43kUArLDBgk5HNPyX1/s640/F+L_222.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">lately i've been thinking about how many things are going on at once...from the microscopic to the cosmic & you and me in between. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">think about it...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">there are whole worlds we don't see <span style="line-height: 16px;">underground, in space, down the street, in every house, underfoot, in the corner of my room, in my body, under the sea, all of which exist in the same moment. to a girl who struggles with multi tasking--my Father's ability to balance/plan/handle it all may be the most awe inspiring thing about Him! the whole world, seen and unseen, is churning with LIFE and it is God, my Father, that is the stirrer of it all. in psalms david calls Him:</span></span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;">...Earth Tamer, Ocean Pourer, Mountain Maker, Hill Dresser, Muzzler of sea storm and wave crash...</span><br />
<i style="line-height: 16px;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;">found in psalm 65:2-8 the message</span></i><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;">i was texting my friend sara this morning...and she informed me that her early morning flight to cali was delayed by a snowstorm in denver. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;">in that moment i could see it all so clearly--how frustrated i would be if that was me...how--if it were me--i would shrink the snowstorm to be an annoyance instead of a His wonderful, white, song. </span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;">i have been to a few symphonies in my day (thanks mom). at the time i was just a kid (with a touch of a.d.d.) and needless to say, i didn't really enjoy the experience. looking back now--the one thing i always found fascinating was the conductor. i could scarcely tear my eyes from him. his whole body was passionately involved in song. how did he know when each instrument was supposed to come in??? i was enchanted with how he controlled the explosion of sound--pushing and pulling the song louder and softer with his hands. from drums to tubas, clarinets to flutes--all the instruments played their parts and waited on his hands to move...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;">for some reason, when i got sara's text about her flight being delayed, all i could see was my Father directing that snowstorm like a Divine Conductor--making the snow dance to his rhythm and cadence. all i could see for a split second was how all of life is a symphony singing to His tune--how each note waits on His hands to move. the snow, sara's life, mine, these brown boxes i've been packing...it was all very much like a scene from disney's fantasia...boxes, brooms, snowstorms & me and you--everything in this world moving to His music.</span><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;">thinking about just how many worlds He is </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;">simultaneously </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;">conducting </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;">makes each snowstorm in my life look more like a symphony and less like an annoyance. somehow He's got everything singing His praises. </span><br />
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<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;"><b>and it's up to us to join the chorus.</b></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace; line-height: 16px;"><br />
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<span style="color: #444444; font-family: 'Courier New', Courier, monospace;"><span style="line-height: 16px;">what a beautiful snapshot of Himself He gave me this morning. call me crazy but i </span><span style="line-height: 16px;">treasure</span><span style="line-height: 16px;"> these little pictures He paints in my head... </span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-62460164967176917522012-02-01T19:28:00.000-08:002012-02-02T07:16:43.170-08:00BFF's & box-o-date-night<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrWOurAYmRf_ImuFu04VSZI2yl1AAegi_qPSFPPQfc6_xA8U-6fM-p2U7m_6PTORgTJ29y6WrWHdm0tNCHpPD6S1fnsa8Tzja_9LXQdh9fAsj3aApuWLO6io0Lj3Buw9eptPLEFRsBF9N/s1600/IMG_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOrWOurAYmRf_ImuFu04VSZI2yl1AAegi_qPSFPPQfc6_xA8U-6fM-p2U7m_6PTORgTJ29y6WrWHdm0tNCHpPD6S1fnsa8Tzja_9LXQdh9fAsj3aApuWLO6io0Lj3Buw9eptPLEFRsBF9N/s640/IMG_0003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>once you've been friends with someone for awhile--it's fun to talk first impressions. <br />
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at first, my best friend lyndsey thought i was an african american single mother (i <i>do</i> get pretty tan in the summer;). <br />
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her husband paul, dubbed my eric, 'sir frown alot' (his words--not mine) and was scared to approach him at church. <br />
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the moment i heard lyndsey's voice on my answering machine asking us to come to her "small group" i was convinced she was a crazy church lady...<br />
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</div><div>fast forward 8 years...</div><div><br />
</div><div>together we've celebrated so many birthdays, christmases (even our "friend anniversaries") not to mention the birth of 3 of our kiddos. today the perry family is an extension of my own. i've never met two more generous and open-hearted individuals. if you don't know them--you should. if you can't tell yet--i'm their biggest fan:) we are sweatpants-wearing, late-night-taco-bell-running, chinese-food sharing, two-slices-of-pie-kinda-friends. we've been each other's first call with good news...and midnight call when things were crazy. for years we lived just 6 doors down...then we lived <i>together</i>, then just a 10 minute drive apart...and now we live 1200 miles away. </div><div><br />
</div><div>i've found the very best things even distance can't touch. i have a handful of friendships from my hometown that i know will always be the same...the perry's are one of them. they are...well...i just think everyone should have friends like them. friends to have fun with, to unwind with, to celebrate with, mourn with, fight with, make up with--<b>friends to walk with.</b> no comparisons or competitions (unless we are talking a foot race or a throwing competition--then IT'S ON!!) but seriously, we've walked down some pretty treacherous stretches of road together. there were times where it seemed too hard...and yet right <i>there</i> was where we found <b>grace</b> fit just perfectly.</div><div><br />
</div><div>as i journey through this life i'm discovering that i've been spoiled--friendships like this are rare.</div><div><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieSpteZHRD8IpQQd-kLZakClRJMmKD-OCCW9F9g5ZiDChfj_OjnvoVatofzuUIqoK-AqfOpc-5cD5Q3OQ2D-H5XrtdOLzbK_qd1ORu2my54cKzdC4zHeGo3cC0SwnhGJMV0hFVTCKHTqsM/s1600/ohperry's!_039.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieSpteZHRD8IpQQd-kLZakClRJMmKD-OCCW9F9g5ZiDChfj_OjnvoVatofzuUIqoK-AqfOpc-5cD5Q3OQ2D-H5XrtdOLzbK_qd1ORu2my54cKzdC4zHeGo3cC0SwnhGJMV0hFVTCKHTqsM/s400/ohperry's!_039.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><div>more rare than i knew.</div><div><br />
</div><div> i miss them (like crazy). </div><div><br />
</div><div>we recieved a surprise package from the perry clan last week. naturally we ripped it open right away! inside we found something so remarkable.</div><br />
it was an at home date night--all boxed up and ready to go! paul and lynz know that eric and i haven't gotten much face time since moving away (turns out there is a severe shortage of babysitters when you don't know anyone). so they put together a box o date night...complete with instructions for us and the kiddos.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGO3qnjzE_XCimj9yEFwVWxyi8Srz989vyHyDTyHvcPnYqVah0jt6hXym80dQ1ZBiQbVSgvQnPs-rUqHIzsKBVGOGm4UtQ0SbbcdK-OassPiIGnD_yxV6o5h9sO9X5kEAUuinHUXv8QuOm/s1600/IMG_0006.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGO3qnjzE_XCimj9yEFwVWxyi8Srz989vyHyDTyHvcPnYqVah0jt6hXym80dQ1ZBiQbVSgvQnPs-rUqHIzsKBVGOGm4UtQ0SbbcdK-OassPiIGnD_yxV6o5h9sO9X5kEAUuinHUXv8QuOm/s640/IMG_0006.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> we even had homework to complete before our date :)<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopibXnG2GlnFSVHnJXxA_1pfbNOiW1AeWa4_s1BOr1P0aQe4NpZSAmv5BuzLUPmywIxgx2xqGtofkqFvYSAbJHk4Q3mCamY_cadLFLhvVl3drbv3h7k19jH92QI71oeAEm41Y3LYHn1Q5/s1600/IMG_0008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhopibXnG2GlnFSVHnJXxA_1pfbNOiW1AeWa4_s1BOr1P0aQe4NpZSAmv5BuzLUPmywIxgx2xqGtofkqFvYSAbJHk4Q3mCamY_cadLFLhvVl3drbv3h7k19jH92QI71oeAEm41Y3LYHn1Q5/s640/IMG_0008.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> the date box was jam packed with fun stuff for the kiddos to keep themselves busy. boy did their eyes widen when they saw all the junk food momma linny had packed for them!!!<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDE5Gi8XqJkm4T6CXbctDm2JRyHL6TA6o_y_MQLYc5W-lpoHVMcpCSq9AiJbni0s2fnU0VD_xVkUxveNv3c2B_eLdxAHr0SVw89WE_i5xLFTHxlgCtcp3S8PdXaiMz0gBuHLUK2rlpXJn/s1600/IMG_0010.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHDE5Gi8XqJkm4T6CXbctDm2JRyHL6TA6o_y_MQLYc5W-lpoHVMcpCSq9AiJbni0s2fnU0VD_xVkUxveNv3c2B_eLdxAHr0SVw89WE_i5xLFTHxlgCtcp3S8PdXaiMz0gBuHLUK2rlpXJn/s640/IMG_0010.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> jaeda had strict instructions to take care of rhett...to make their dinner and pop them popcorn...while they watched the brand NEW MOVIE the perry's had sent! she loved the responsibility. daddy paul and momma linny know her too well...<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFv6z5NRps1GqEEQng1vjW5hyphenhyphenpFICallL40V6YR3_4VOG8c4LtBTfoph0TCEOH147gcUpXpUNPF-Z2KIzXLgzmBFrQh8tKL9vCgfYXW1dpyEdQgOmLQN8nSLj7k5IXJg_BIGmYN3yiubG3/s1600/IMG_0018.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFv6z5NRps1GqEEQng1vjW5hyphenhyphenpFICallL40V6YR3_4VOG8c4LtBTfoph0TCEOH147gcUpXpUNPF-Z2KIzXLgzmBFrQh8tKL9vCgfYXW1dpyEdQgOmLQN8nSLj7k5IXJg_BIGmYN3yiubG3/s640/IMG_0018.jpg" width="640" /></a></div> meanwhile, eric and i were given an envelope with money for dinner and a few connecting questions to ask and answer under the florida stars...i think the list went something like:<br />
<div style="text-align: justify;"></div><ul><li style="text-align: justify;">share something that you appreciate about your spouse</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">share something new about yourself with your spouse</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">share one of your hopes for the future</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">share one thing that puzzles you about your spouse</li>
<li style="text-align: justify;">share a complaint with a request</li>
</ul><div>after weeks and months of kiddos and kiddos and getting settled and kiddos and of eric having to do homework after the kiddos went to bed, it was so lovely to hear from his heart...</div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoEnH1JizZ1s8j1FcEAGxYQKl3Y-gu1FxMBWgjZQjRSNlVxzxjblI-Xg781gxQ5dqNxPt_IJgVOxeLE5lhJmpbam24QZHdnTqnjy2N3v4sBN26O-hfO51Rb6-KjS5srdMEfitrCw11vb86/s1600/IMG_0022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoEnH1JizZ1s8j1FcEAGxYQKl3Y-gu1FxMBWgjZQjRSNlVxzxjblI-Xg781gxQ5dqNxPt_IJgVOxeLE5lhJmpbam24QZHdnTqnjy2N3v4sBN26O-hfO51Rb6-KjS5srdMEfitrCw11vb86/s640/IMG_0022.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">we reconnected over some yummy sushi...(although it's no moonlight)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz4jkUw8Sg26npQMJRHWpbIN_8U_RA4F65swCt1awIPbZQaEQpfJRBuH0f9G087EpPTENS_fwW-pN4YbsCyG6B7ZSJ4Yh7TX_t1FuV4ZLFnkRCPHeSO_ZS4fhLiFyrtErEvfhYhBvqjY1U/s1600/IMG_0029.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz4jkUw8Sg26npQMJRHWpbIN_8U_RA4F65swCt1awIPbZQaEQpfJRBuH0f9G087EpPTENS_fwW-pN4YbsCyG6B7ZSJ4Yh7TX_t1FuV4ZLFnkRCPHeSO_ZS4fhLiFyrtErEvfhYhBvqjY1U/s640/IMG_0029.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>and just like that--the perry's and their little brown box brought out the best in us. we walked away from our little date night feeling so refreshed. their thoughtful gift made us feel oh so loved--even from a thousand miles away!<br />
<br />
after our date there was one more envelope for jaeda's eyes only...it was an envelope with money for the "sitter". she was thrilled...to say the least!<br />
<br />
gosh, it was such a fun night. we've decided we're gonna send them a similar box soon...and start a new tradition with these friends of ours... <br />
(love you perry's!!!)<br />
<br />
if you don't have friends like these perry people--you should find you some. inviting people into your life can be tough...but man, it sure does make the ride worthwhile...<br />
<br />
take a chance--invest in friends.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-48113123656145038172012-01-25T18:10:00.000-08:002012-01-25T19:32:24.528-08:00salad spinning!<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;">i should probably be doing something constructive with my time and energy. i should be packing. i should be emailing. instead i've made a mess with my kiddos and a salad spinner:)</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxvtzoHDBMQqYuq8VonCktylTmCSVEt2PlNGIz9SwNaGDoO3f2S8791yXZNQu38pWR2wEqdAZFNZKQ2oIw440AZH4E_wcujs96r74BcvAeOlJr7FL4yvQgGsu2cOUfgiaTi5zNnRdAdb08/s1600/IMG_0003.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxvtzoHDBMQqYuq8VonCktylTmCSVEt2PlNGIz9SwNaGDoO3f2S8791yXZNQu38pWR2wEqdAZFNZKQ2oIw440AZH4E_wcujs96r74BcvAeOlJr7FL4yvQgGsu2cOUfgiaTi5zNnRdAdb08/s640/IMG_0003.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><br />
we invented our own artsy game this afternoon and if you're sitting around with your salad spinner--bored to death, with nothing to do...here's what we suggest:<br />
<br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b><u>first--gather some random supplies like:</u></b></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
<br />
<ul><li>6 colors of paint (kinda thin works better...we added water)</li>
</ul></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXC6bxbqb9AK7Qyqg_aCXcfC4WVRBiCeMoZhZcy4sGTNfAWWjmuQBJ6mm3RVxCsno0Yyg6MAePMjGWCh5ubSO707Iya-QugraRae_fxOZYWZqnW5P9CYjdcCiuuKwj5uyhnIrCjyPQDLK/s1600/IMG_0014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoXC6bxbqb9AK7Qyqg_aCXcfC4WVRBiCeMoZhZcy4sGTNfAWWjmuQBJ6mm3RVxCsno0Yyg6MAePMjGWCh5ubSO707Iya-QugraRae_fxOZYWZqnW5P9CYjdcCiuuKwj5uyhnIrCjyPQDLK/s640/IMG_0014.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<ul><li style="text-align: center;">6 different kinds of paper</li>
</ul><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-tqg2DrYkQ9uo1Cpehq_Sbt2KTAeBn4Jt_kolE7SSVooD0EMHPUIJb-vqbyDjafYJGqLAuslV0uIdgfucB4pAgHbbCU-VZRG1zTaz-IEP0xCAenes1ukBff3XfVijS2-AdYHsIhKoQZ3/s1600/IMG_0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-tqg2DrYkQ9uo1Cpehq_Sbt2KTAeBn4Jt_kolE7SSVooD0EMHPUIJb-vqbyDjafYJGqLAuslV0uIdgfucB4pAgHbbCU-VZRG1zTaz-IEP0xCAenes1ukBff3XfVijS2-AdYHsIhKoQZ3/s640/IMG_0016.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<ul><li style="text-align: center;">alphabet stickers or markers (or both)</li>
</ul><div style="text-align: center;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6HL8WGSYA_7tWFO8AGEDb-NGrjguKkJDkz_bDK1Vh_foCg6-d-1_Uxf3Xy6jAVLV9PGVUoknesC2C8sPQW8iNnpkl_3qI71n-0LGqbiUmnqsFWjPc2Jj2A8ftK1xPLJvqJmyRAbxkTo7/s1600/IMG_0024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="display: inline !important; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="422" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW6HL8WGSYA_7tWFO8AGEDb-NGrjguKkJDkz_bDK1Vh_foCg6-d-1_Uxf3Xy6jAVLV9PGVUoknesC2C8sPQW8iNnpkl_3qI71n-0LGqbiUmnqsFWjPc2Jj2A8ftK1xPLJvqJmyRAbxkTo7/s640/IMG_0024.jpg" width="640" /></a></div></div><ul><li style="text-align: center;">a dice (oversized is most fun)</li>
</ul><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCKKFaVP9bCSzgbtlOJ0Fy1jlSwk-awaGC4ZMMVd5chBwj1OsISv9fKsi1gag4dC2K2eUJUC7Pvo0UiCIe-JMFbhBmWIE98bmCdOo0qbqioYh83RZbq0JWC-lmVwK9JjS6OeQecMleMOf/s1600/IMG_0019.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCKKFaVP9bCSzgbtlOJ0Fy1jlSwk-awaGC4ZMMVd5chBwj1OsISv9fKsi1gag4dC2K2eUJUC7Pvo0UiCIe-JMFbhBmWIE98bmCdOo0qbqioYh83RZbq0JWC-lmVwK9JjS6OeQecMleMOf/s640/IMG_0019.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<ul><li style="text-align: center;">a dictionary or theasarus (or any book for that matter)</li>
</ul><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHv-M5uG8ZrAzzLLOVFC2nx2fl1vCxxep7lF-8OnatCC3pP3JIGVT6jupPN6gPu3fZhfQ5vzCB9uJz0z0-pQK0VXTjXAN0jMSSZPR9Dhro2NTFIbzc5SfVYMa0qik8Y76w-gFBKw9ApS5/s1600/IMG_0004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZHv-M5uG8ZrAzzLLOVFC2nx2fl1vCxxep7lF-8OnatCC3pP3JIGVT6jupPN6gPu3fZhfQ5vzCB9uJz0z0-pQK0VXTjXAN0jMSSZPR9Dhro2NTFIbzc5SfVYMa0qik8Y76w-gFBKw9ApS5/s640/IMG_0004.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
<ul><li style="text-align: center;">and lastly--a salad spinner (i didn't have one but picked up a cheapy at ikea juuuust for this lil project)</li>
</ul><div style="text-align: center;">okay, after you've gathered your supplies, number the paper choices, #1-6 and number the paint colors #1-6. get creative (we used some random vintage numbers i got in my stocking this year but you could tear up peices of paper...whatever you got.) </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUehfbSs3CptS4O-zK4yvLaAJ-cGlwAdG06_XCh7vwlkd9vE9HnJuzDo4fhhjnMOGYLfQrrX6QOC2KGtizohoice0BuWmhV8tpjMydPwE7hPRBQN_6ocUOUNp8g-aaMIEbalRPew_uUoN/s1600/IMG_0007.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGUehfbSs3CptS4O-zK4yvLaAJ-cGlwAdG06_XCh7vwlkd9vE9HnJuzDo4fhhjnMOGYLfQrrX6QOC2KGtizohoice0BuWmhV8tpjMydPwE7hPRBQN_6ocUOUNp8g-aaMIEbalRPew_uUoN/s640/IMG_0007.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">okay so, here's how you play! a roll of the dice always decides what you will do next--starting with type of paper you get to use. i tried to choose papers of all different kinds to make it more fun. so for instance, in this case, if you rolled a 1 you'd get to use the cool white bumpy paper and so on...</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-tqg2DrYkQ9uo1Cpehq_Sbt2KTAeBn4Jt_kolE7SSVooD0EMHPUIJb-vqbyDjafYJGqLAuslV0uIdgfucB4pAgHbbCU-VZRG1zTaz-IEP0xCAenes1ukBff3XfVijS2-AdYHsIhKoQZ3/s1600/IMG_0016.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio-tqg2DrYkQ9uo1Cpehq_Sbt2KTAeBn4Jt_kolE7SSVooD0EMHPUIJb-vqbyDjafYJGqLAuslV0uIdgfucB4pAgHbbCU-VZRG1zTaz-IEP0xCAenes1ukBff3XfVijS2-AdYHsIhKoQZ3/s640/IMG_0016.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">once you've rolled to decide which paper to use, next you roll to decide <i><b>how many colors</b> </i>you get to add to the salad spinner when creating your piece. THEN you roll to decide <b><i>which specific colors</i></b> to add. </div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">so if you roll a 1 and the green paint is labeled 1 you get a green dollop on the paper...if you roll a 5 and the white paint is labeled 5 you get to place a dollop of white on the paper (in the salad spinner). i'm the world's worst explainer...i hope this is making sense!</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLI0ydE6iw1McXfVhIoj80v_KeaIJKHvto5UrOFsqJj91hTDov00dDCQ8lw6DPrtEbOI6C9PlJx7smm1X3gvWde9FVhO-mDpGdxgxBJnQaBf-2B550t93PvYR_kYarDlciIA_aC-W-_Cx/s1600/IMG_0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsletVjq-dWczNZeZiWuiG5x9YYIVY3FK4EM6rX8MggMgC9NA5JwHYrLTyopQ3G3eeNgp-TsiLX4YV6c_Af6z6D30ZRbXJWipHC0g4GGbCoUCOGtQreTmnjmG2HMQGJPI-Y1LjVLPuh16n/s640/IMG_0027.jpg" width="640" /></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;">after all this rolling of the dice...which makes things super exciting and suspenseful--place the paper in the salad spinner...we trimmed ours a bit so it would fit properly. we taped it</span><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: black;">down on the backside so it wouldn't slide around when the spinning got crazy!</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
</span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLI0ydE6iw1McXfVhIoj80v_KeaIJKHvto5UrOFsqJj91hTDov00dDCQ8lw6DPrtEbOI6C9PlJx7smm1X3gvWde9FVhO-mDpGdxgxBJnQaBf-2B550t93PvYR_kYarDlciIA_aC-W-_Cx/s1600/IMG_0030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbLI0ydE6iw1McXfVhIoj80v_KeaIJKHvto5UrOFsqJj91hTDov00dDCQ8lw6DPrtEbOI6C9PlJx7smm1X3gvWde9FVhO-mDpGdxgxBJnQaBf-2B550t93PvYR_kYarDlciIA_aC-W-_Cx/s640/IMG_0030.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><b><b><u>here comes the fun part! </u> </b>once you've rolled to choose the paper and rolled to choose how many colors and rolled to choose <i>which</i> colors--<b>you put the lid back on the salad spinner and spin away!!!</b></b><br />
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</b></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIEGBzT6s8ikcOva61s0yOjEfuz9iHqSfBJiGW2hxLLu7vyjQ-1CcQ4RQFuP5aRyQRkWMqp00IoHWRMLU2BWt7oowF4auHZp2GYQjl_fBTEpMTvMaaqUXXGA03Pw3w3lHros_LaHE7TRC3/s1600/IMG_0036.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIEGBzT6s8ikcOva61s0yOjEfuz9iHqSfBJiGW2hxLLu7vyjQ-1CcQ4RQFuP5aRyQRkWMqp00IoHWRMLU2BWt7oowF4auHZp2GYQjl_fBTEpMTvMaaqUXXGA03Pw3w3lHros_LaHE7TRC3/s640/IMG_0036.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkBs5ITanqUXWVE-7fevmTwDKWDt5nz0sdI_HqlEeB17ih8taaXHrcs3-QgYX9eDf540_l9VJro4UPxCpoo5HDaKv9a6yGB_mlzvAPmS3N3BZbFlOzRuNFdZCu0vcSxWc5tiEd_66Qr5Jr/s1600/IMG_0037.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjkBs5ITanqUXWVE-7fevmTwDKWDt5nz0sdI_HqlEeB17ih8taaXHrcs3-QgYX9eDf540_l9VJro4UPxCpoo5HDaKv9a6yGB_mlzvAPmS3N3BZbFlOzRuNFdZCu0vcSxWc5tiEd_66Qr5Jr/s640/IMG_0037.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJZ_icmSAMj6XA_Am9t0YLOnez_sCOGZjTWr1vVJst3WSO0ACGvyNlTh5A0PTcB6JJ9mpnzSvSzJ_e_HamHHxdcgjc7ohm6x_TAFzKrVNpvmvSB2XkkyMEig12U0o-VxitIUqtC09KIgm/s1600/IMG_0043.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibJZ_icmSAMj6XA_Am9t0YLOnez_sCOGZjTWr1vVJst3WSO0ACGvyNlTh5A0PTcB6JJ9mpnzSvSzJ_e_HamHHxdcgjc7ohm6x_TAFzKrVNpvmvSB2XkkyMEig12U0o-VxitIUqtC09KIgm/s640/IMG_0043.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">the kiddos loved this part! heck, i did too! it was fun to see just how fast we could get it going and how fast we could change directions! </div><div style="text-align: center;">wait...don't stop here...it gets better. then you get to open the lid to reveal the first step of your <b>masterpiece! </b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguv8Q_nc_ae8c47XgNPGCKqzqwsdgURaDYUx-aHtM0v4S03TkAXk-MHCe-K7WSlrew6cXL1mYUVmtQw61gwZ-ru-12dZdHp5VNTQlG3IcmoyPU4AOSELQ0GMyYmNTPKxGuTZpFwwXjASfp/s1600/IMG_0031.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguv8Q_nc_ae8c47XgNPGCKqzqwsdgURaDYUx-aHtM0v4S03TkAXk-MHCe-K7WSlrew6cXL1mYUVmtQw61gwZ-ru-12dZdHp5VNTQlG3IcmoyPU4AOSELQ0GMyYmNTPKxGuTZpFwwXjASfp/s640/IMG_0031.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><b></b><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">it was way fun to see what the salad spinner does to different papers and different consistencies of paint...your older kids will think so too...now your younger kids--they'll just want to spin spin spin away!</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JYD9lxpqIPHeklj_KfQpr4g51s7yEQM8g5NKwNfcY50KomSmMRDh72kXYPl6K22ZPM_97TRRNGvPDQdzBe4giyeoZfzA8U05G9bgPSzE9BnbdUCsJz6cOSXdIimsHbnU_WiQlqXqgj1X/s1600/IMG_0046.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7JYD9lxpqIPHeklj_KfQpr4g51s7yEQM8g5NKwNfcY50KomSmMRDh72kXYPl6K22ZPM_97TRRNGvPDQdzBe4giyeoZfzA8U05G9bgPSzE9BnbdUCsJz6cOSXdIimsHbnU_WiQlqXqgj1X/s640/IMG_0046.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;">you could stop the lil game here but we didn't want to...we wanted to add WORDS. so we rolled the dice one last time to decide which page of the book our magic art word would come from. </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zV5y0vtaPQH9qIEFXDlGaRbIMw6LZnGZB6J7MosfKxtXYwzjRN82OqspEpouWcJsbHgR_7hC5qjy52FSq8RtgJOefC2vCe97cnyuWvi_fbE3q6tScLncXUjJ5Yvl8SXAdnIzC9DlIh0j/s1600/IMG_0052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6zV5y0vtaPQH9qIEFXDlGaRbIMw6LZnGZB6J7MosfKxtXYwzjRN82OqspEpouWcJsbHgR_7hC5qjy52FSq8RtgJOefC2vCe97cnyuWvi_fbE3q6tScLncXUjJ5Yvl8SXAdnIzC9DlIh0j/s640/IMG_0052.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: center;">obviously the dice didn't go up to page 1415 like our theasarus did, so we just rolled for the <i>last</i> number of the page. so if you roll a 6 on the dice you'd flip the book open to the first page that ends in 6 and stop there....(example pg 1216.) THEN you get to chose a word...ANY word you like from that page. maybe you like the way it looks or sounds or perhaps the meaning. it doesn't matter...it's your word. you get to choose. this part is soooo fun to me...'specially with wonderboy. he chose,<i> blast off, belt </i>and <i>numeric</i>. so wonderfully random! jaeda chose <i>creamy, creative </i>and<i> awesome.</i> i love how she put some thought and her personality into her choices...also beautiful!</div><div style="text-align: center;">so, here are our finished products! i can't tell you how much fun we had making these mini masterpieces!!<br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU-ch1l31vctOeUHs2qskgFdqXawxrfhDL-yGDKFLDaF-vyOepmt2OOznUhJGCin-_YaySrlDiZ_we-LzJnVPA7rLe6xWPN-XYjYmzI6UBDNzAX5ZPxZSQrRA_yOUmqxKWn8Y8OM-4YyH/s1600/IMG_0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU-ch1l31vctOeUHs2qskgFdqXawxrfhDL-yGDKFLDaF-vyOepmt2OOznUhJGCin-_YaySrlDiZ_we-LzJnVPA7rLe6xWPN-XYjYmzI6UBDNzAX5ZPxZSQrRA_yOUmqxKWn8Y8OM-4YyH/s640/IMG_0033.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">rhett's 1st</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7jRXsgH8JmMd9_sAc0j0dKHfCEmCdPPIRy7rG_L_Vhk9VtqgbmeXm33PKhhZ417e6qdYDpAgwxbqvz_rXOzyfQJXtHgdVFE6r5ZUg7btHzQq9Jf4Djk_FRUt5WcVDRcCpr_fmU9KLCLC/s1600/IMG_0051.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; display: inline !important; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif7jRXsgH8JmMd9_sAc0j0dKHfCEmCdPPIRy7rG_L_Vhk9VtqgbmeXm33PKhhZ417e6qdYDpAgwxbqvz_rXOzyfQJXtHgdVFE6r5ZUg7btHzQq9Jf4Djk_FRUt5WcVDRcCpr_fmU9KLCLC/s640/IMG_0051.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rhett's 2nd (loved that he chose numeric as his "word". because the piece is numeric since it all depended on the number of a dice:)</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGqzeW6o985gH-IvvW9jG9jf0HETWjjHuCau1zx80wVQF73sE-7FuAYPlTQlABMyKd80K8GuUQv5cji3T98cTTYF2gnCFzEa6RjcFJ6eoJbKdLnoeHg8qynYD_zjRMnljiID2I-WApzrH/s1600/IMG_0050.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGGqzeW6o985gH-IvvW9jG9jf0HETWjjHuCau1zx80wVQF73sE-7FuAYPlTQlABMyKd80K8GuUQv5cji3T98cTTYF2gnCFzEa6RjcFJ6eoJbKdLnoeHg8qynYD_zjRMnljiID2I-WApzrH/s640/IMG_0050.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqU-ch1l31vctOeUHs2qskgFdqXawxrfhDL-yGDKFLDaF-vyOepmt2OOznUhJGCin-_YaySrlDiZ_we-LzJnVPA7rLe6xWPN-XYjYmzI6UBDNzAX5ZPxZSQrRA_yOUmqxKWn8Y8OM-4YyH/s1600/IMG_0033.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">rhett's 3rd!</td></tr>
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<tr><td><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6V3MLD_2QE_xsFuGh9mz90Sq5qfmPrAvLmbtmELJQoyukXIUX5rxgIV-7jA4SfSg7Jlvg2okHDkbxxkUWYKrxzBAy0Jecs5r_YanTF6Gc9iLK-ZQyzRWvr_30rdgzWLBeZrYXJv16ndI4/s1600/IMG_0060.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6V3MLD_2QE_xsFuGh9mz90Sq5qfmPrAvLmbtmELJQoyukXIUX5rxgIV-7jA4SfSg7Jlvg2okHDkbxxkUWYKrxzBAy0Jecs5r_YanTF6Gc9iLK-ZQyzRWvr_30rdgzWLBeZrYXJv16ndI4/s640/IMG_0060.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
jae's 1st</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgH3zxyoglXguZS3gStkkJ2w_GyzWBvQHKaQ0SLaGiEYcl-iidlI_2qZr1Sjd_4xCokzTzUAkXUYuJwUGmQ1QbuQM7REQpa0XHYrFkPnKYjHdGc95ygaZow-JMYJcPXiJxRyXHLHUMt38w/s1600/IMG_0061.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgH3zxyoglXguZS3gStkkJ2w_GyzWBvQHKaQ0SLaGiEYcl-iidlI_2qZr1Sjd_4xCokzTzUAkXUYuJwUGmQ1QbuQM7REQpa0XHYrFkPnKYjHdGc95ygaZow-JMYJcPXiJxRyXHLHUMt38w/s640/IMG_0061.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
jae's 2nd</td></tr>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ddKZ5bnSWEstHB-a0VherdXAEjGuld9AAK5o6t39HD5mcVGel_eu8ZCyHVyzuWiUkXFcDAzWR03t0plIew7fFJ59AJKx7Gwm4biYYVhJvPLKw4HpsYC33eFD9VwWVzCA7JX8MJ9tnEL7/s1600/IMG_0057.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_ddKZ5bnSWEstHB-a0VherdXAEjGuld9AAK5o6t39HD5mcVGel_eu8ZCyHVyzuWiUkXFcDAzWR03t0plIew7fFJ59AJKx7Gwm4biYYVhJvPLKw4HpsYC33eFD9VwWVzCA7JX8MJ9tnEL7/s640/IMG_0057.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
</tbody></table><div style="text-align: center;">jae's 3rd</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg94t2LkpiJ4TCOH8vlWJDAnWS7XLrTy8ZeXTdwAsd_x-3ess51nRa1XpP1KfMny7FFK0qcMAmSiYtjCkluJvlVxC5maqa5wiqjREuS9Fo0ufW1DFHPLNngnahChuwesoPsS2KZCjUY96QG/s1600/IMG_0055.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="425" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg94t2LkpiJ4TCOH8vlWJDAnWS7XLrTy8ZeXTdwAsd_x-3ess51nRa1XpP1KfMny7FFK0qcMAmSiYtjCkluJvlVxC5maqa5wiqjREuS9Fo0ufW1DFHPLNngnahChuwesoPsS2KZCjUY96QG/s640/IMG_0055.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">and of course i had to do one too! agh!!! we had so much fun with this lil artsy game:) you have to try it or something like it and show us what you come up with!</div><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-loqIXQ-uByhXu0gZA0ttn6fKIYGgzJjBoLGOmwLyLyj45OCs_DW-bjAOLb1GwRflrNaWwJ4nNSWLcELBhwIhsvI2NnBhR3dzNyiLL0cuYhYvo21y_myNaYJxBzhY2SjXAGWr-ifroZ6/s1600/IMG_0065.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjU-loqIXQ-uByhXu0gZA0ttn6fKIYGgzJjBoLGOmwLyLyj45OCs_DW-bjAOLb1GwRflrNaWwJ4nNSWLcELBhwIhsvI2NnBhR3dzNyiLL0cuYhYvo21y_myNaYJxBzhY2SjXAGWr-ifroZ6/s640/IMG_0065.jpg" width="640" /></a><br />
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p.s. this is what the salad spinner looked like afterwards...kinda cool, right?!?</td></tr>
</tbody></table>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-12218639055204173362012-01-24T08:07:00.000-08:002012-01-24T12:13:18.983-08:00the first time<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0rDBs3svBVDS044bgbcWQtyKiJXp8BsyWMPyNvnQsVZEaxm1PibTelpbywI7_YWIcev3Q2hB_p5iF4nvjvtwsUKRvNjpiwd_vZEBiBV25iKm7q6a6FmoZJFO2UI4oh4MySLaZDHOfQ8V/s1600/unforcedrhythms.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEir0rDBs3svBVDS044bgbcWQtyKiJXp8BsyWMPyNvnQsVZEaxm1PibTelpbywI7_YWIcev3Q2hB_p5iF4nvjvtwsUKRvNjpiwd_vZEBiBV25iKm7q6a6FmoZJFO2UI4oh4MySLaZDHOfQ8V/s640/unforcedrhythms.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><br />
</div><div>let's play a little game called...</div><div><br />
</div><div>when was the last time you did something for the first time?</div><div><br />
</div><div>firsts can be exciting...they can draw us up and out of our routines and things. they can also be hard and embarrassing. sometimes they can be fun, sometimes frustrating...sometimes scary or amazing. sometimes all of this at once! helen keller once said, "life is an adventure or it's nothing at all." </div><div><br />
</div><div>so what's yours gonna be? </div><div><br />
</div><div>find a first to tackle today. it's easy. it's free. take it all in...stop to wonder at the weird parts all the while enjoying the lovely.</div><div><br />
</div><div>several firsts that could fit into your day:</div><div><br />
</div><div><i>read a book you don't think you'll like</i></div><div><i>eat indian food</i></div><div><i>sing on your way to work/school</i></div><div><i>give something special to you away</i></div><div><i>compliment a stranger</i></div><div><i>send flowers anonymously to someone who'll never guess</i></div><div><i>dance in your car</i></div><div><i>celebrate your unbirthday (with a cake and everything)</i></div><div><i>talk to the postman</i></div><div><i>start a tradition</i></div><div><i>collect raindrops</i></div><div><i>leave a post it note on the mirror in the public bathroom saying something like "you are fabulous"</i></div><div><i>turn up the music</i></div><div><i>leave some change in the vending machine or in the little crappy toy machine at the front of walmart</i></div><div><br />
</div><div>use this post as an excuse to do something out of your comfort zone. and if someone laughs...tell em there's this crazy girl on the internet that dared you to do it.</div><div><br />
</div><div>happy tuesday.</div><div><br />
</div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-18750410350414154592012-01-23T07:13:00.000-08:002012-01-23T07:13:21.417-08:00the monday mornings...<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDC9NGj7c4_hs7jbX0Ov98nGTStx_8yiM-IEVvad5AeTTcQYiTh3R6W6yGi2H3VyN-2YXLnElJEGXu4f3X83apPOHz8pqzlPrX7BPZMPFDeX-T65di5f2FHRYr4MFzJdcJcqnuW1e3MzF/s1600/IMG_6537_2778.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeDC9NGj7c4_hs7jbX0Ov98nGTStx_8yiM-IEVvad5AeTTcQYiTh3R6W6yGi2H3VyN-2YXLnElJEGXu4f3X83apPOHz8pqzlPrX7BPZMPFDeX-T65di5f2FHRYr4MFzJdcJcqnuW1e3MzF/s640/IMG_6537_2778.jpg" width="502" /></a></div><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><br />
one day, far away--i just know i'm gonna look back and wish i could step into a mundane monday morning when my kiddos were 10 and 4.<br />
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i'll wish i could wake up to the janurary florida sun in my face and sounds of my raccoon rhett scrounging around in the kitchen for something he knows he's not supposed to eat in the morning. <br />
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someday...i'll wish i had that blonde haired blue eyed girl o mine crawl into my bed for a few snuggles before the wonderboy comes to crash the party and steal the covers and turn our quiet morning into a wwf smackdown. <br />
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someday...i know i'll miss jae's freckled little girl face and the way she wrinkles her nose when she smiles. oh and that crazy crazy laugh of hers...someday when she's too cool to get the giggles--i guess i'll miss that too. <br />
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one day when wonderboy has hair on his face i'll wish i had kissed him on his smooth little cheeks more often. <br />
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someday i'll wish i could listen to his incessant chatter. <br />
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someday i'll probably even wish that i could hear those two hoodlums fight. i'll wish that they were close enough for it to be my turn to tuck them in. <br />
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someday, i'll want this morning back...but today...today feels like i'm just doing it all over again. <br />
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sometimes (especially on mondays) it's hard for me to get going. <br />
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because today, on that freckled 10 year old face...just under that wrinkled lil nose--is a pink mouth with a dimple that has nothing but negative things to say lately.<br />
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today...that wonderboy will wear his mortal momma out. he'll fight and scream about all life's little un-fun things--and it's up to me to teach him different. <br />
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today there is a stack of boxes as tall as me in my garage that need to be packed with all my junk.<br />
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today there is a certain little girl's room that appears to be carpetless because someone started cleaning out her desk and quit the hopeless job right in the middle.<br />
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today there are emails and phone calls and lots of grown up stuff to take care of....and really on this mundane monday...i'd much rather stay in bed.<br />
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so friends...this is what got me outta bed this morning:<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGowo9qO5CTLweE9Al0eyyQXVnh04C5u2PUNUMyJW2aoNiBN6T2Z825BbBeh7uWQYOG2M-QzBdKqoxroWxz72XarLJTd81lYXIEdAqDCYwf99uy27hlvgnFvOvwK0dFd3o2OHpDpaqeCxV/s1600/teacupblacknwhite.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGowo9qO5CTLweE9Al0eyyQXVnh04C5u2PUNUMyJW2aoNiBN6T2Z825BbBeh7uWQYOG2M-QzBdKqoxroWxz72XarLJTd81lYXIEdAqDCYwf99uy27hlvgnFvOvwK0dFd3o2OHpDpaqeCxV/s400/teacupblacknwhite.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>homemade chai tea latte<br />
my friend, the sun, promising another yellow day<br />
3 bananas that will make that negative lil girl of mine some banana pudding (just because)<br />
that kissable spot on wonderboy's neck that probably needs some monday morning snuggles<br />
thoughts of decorating my new nest (we are moving in 2 weeks!)<br />
ideas of park hopping and swing flying with my boy<br />
four little squat jars from ikea that beg for purpose <br />
the ocean...so looking forward to the next time i can dig my toes in the sand and stick my nose in the salty air.<br />
a dirty house--and how good it'll feel to get 'er clean again<br />
the salad spinner i bought for a fun paint project this week<br />
a few fun phonecalls to kc friends that i didn't get to talk to over the weekend<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLKeleAugzFXChbpjOrFsONKFITKYOfXUz0zFlPEDaJERPA7xqTKzJeCFMViBF5PRdnkJ4sseZAQPgt6pSzFtOK_lDw1z2_EXSlV08EfUVXtmorqXs1XfbXzeso4PQ61LQbqetY9NFVqsU/s1600/underdog.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLKeleAugzFXChbpjOrFsONKFITKYOfXUz0zFlPEDaJERPA7xqTKzJeCFMViBF5PRdnkJ4sseZAQPgt6pSzFtOK_lDw1z2_EXSlV08EfUVXtmorqXs1XfbXzeso4PQ61LQbqetY9NFVqsU/s400/underdog.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>most days it's easy to find things to jump outta bed for. but my mondays seem to start a lil slower...and i have to scavenge to find some things to be thankful for. today, my monday morning scavenger hunt unearthed some treasures to pull me outta bed and back to life. i'd love to know what gets you guys outta bed on these mundane mornings...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-795110288609177837.post-15876042984011984332012-01-19T07:17:00.000-08:002012-01-19T07:31:38.852-08:00my lilac story<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYbKb-ORxKEib3tsanUBG7SBqEPdurvw8cqtZ6gDi2ndRQJ8PlrEK7pzbfUU-JVCExj15NyUHkNWysyFCaLDsXsGrkKiHdhRbPGOIP0mZOn-5dj34Ap5sYJw9yb5t8LybI4j3keG7k848K/s1600/IMG_3548+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYbKb-ORxKEib3tsanUBG7SBqEPdurvw8cqtZ6gDi2ndRQJ8PlrEK7pzbfUU-JVCExj15NyUHkNWysyFCaLDsXsGrkKiHdhRbPGOIP0mZOn-5dj34Ap5sYJw9yb5t8LybI4j3keG7k848K/s640/IMG_3548+copy.jpg" width="640" /></a></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"><a href="http://www.blueampersandphotography.com/">{picture by blue ampersand photography}</a></span></div><br />
i've always had this thing with lilacs. there is something about those brown winter sticks turning to fragrant purple blooms--they never fail to remind me of great possibilities--year after year. the very shade of purple makes me wonder just how much red and blue God mixed together to make them. they smell like eden and oh how they sing of spring...<br />
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yesterday i was catching up with an old dear friend of mine--who has the best lilac bushes EVER! her lilacs are like trees! they are massive and wonderful...absolutely laden with purple and white blooms. we were just chatting about things and spring and then she said,<br />
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"lex, you will enjoy this. I had to cut my lilacs--all but one--to the ground. they were in such bad shape. it will take them a couple of years but they will be lovely for years to come. i did that to one of them when we first moved in but was chicken to do it to all of them in case it killed them and all of the books were fibbing. the one i cut back is now BEAUTIFUL."<br />
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i was breathless. i felt like she was telling me my own story. ever since we talked i've been thinking about those lilacs. they were seriously taller than me...and to an untrained eye (me), they were perfect. but my friend is an amazing gardener and she could see that they weren't what they were supposed to be. they were okay but in their wild beauty they were getting too out of control for their health. so she cut them back. not a trim. not even a buzzcut but she pruned them back to THE GROUND. they won't bloom for years...but when they do...i should be able to smell them from here...<br />
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i feel like this florida move was the Master gardener's "cutting me back". in the last 5 years i've experienced growth like no other time in my life. i've gone through alot...and with His help came out better than before...more alive...a little more like Him. but if i'm honest, i guess i was growing a little wild. life was busy-out -of -control-topsy-turvy with kids and brighton road and family and church and friends and scribble studios. to undiscerning eye (like mine) things looked amazing but He knew...He knew some pruning was in order. not just a trim. not even a buzz...but a cutting me back to the ground so i could grow back healthier in time.<br />
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this time of pruning is oh so bittersweet. i LOVE the adventure...the ocean mist...the sunshine. i LOVE the time with my kiddos...and it makes me sad to see how much i've missed while living life at a break neck speed. i don't miss the pace of my kc life but i miss the people. my people. and i miss the dreams...<br />
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i walked away from some pretty incredible dreams when i moved away from kc. some wild and wonderful dreams like scribble studios. i had my own space and place to encourage creativity and inspire wonder into the hearts of today's technologically overloaded children. i made this place with my own two hands...i was in love with it. absolutely intoxicated with the ideas and possibilities of just how far it could fly. BUT...it was like my 3rd child. it took all my time and energy. i was up there as often as i could be...doing the work of 3 people. and let's face it...i'm no business person...i just had lots of creativity to contribute. but scribble was my happy place...and i was finally using my gifts and living life to the full!!! sitting and sketching in that crazy attic space was my eden. and i walked away...<br />
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i walked away from my photography business that was just beginning to bloom and grow. the growth kept me working...ALOT. away from kids...ALOT. but it was supporting my family so how could i just stop??? i couldn't just walk away...so He took me away.<br />
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my kc schedule made my head hurt. all the internal expectations from friends and family. i am a blessed girl. i have<i> too many</i> kc girlfriends, couple friends and people i just love to spend time with! over achiever that i was, i tried to do it all...there was no pressure from anyone but myself to keep up all my friendships--it was something i <i>wanted</i> to do. squeezing them all in meant squeezing my sweet lil family out...and so...He pruned that back too.<br />
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in thinking about these lilacs and their pruning...i couldn't help but think there were a few places in the Bible where it talks about Him being a gardener...so i did a lil internet word search and found quite a few obvious spots--He started everything off<b> in a garden</b> for goodness sake! He tells me to look at the <b>wildflowers</b>...He says He is the <b>vine</b>...He went to the <i>garden</i> to pray and He was first spotted after resurection--<i>in a garden</i>. He likens Himself to a patient gardener in luke and various other places in the old testement. it seems He knows a thing or two about planting and harvesting and growing fruit and things of that nature...so i'm assuming He knows what He's doing right now...with me. i sure am glad He's patient...<br />
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after hearing my friend denise's lilac story...i did a little research on lilacs and found out that they prefer full sun (like me) and it made me smile. here i am, like the lilac, starting over. no friends, no business, no scribble studios. i'm back to the basics. family and God...and i'm hoping i grow up healthier this time--knowing when to say yes and when to say no--honoring only my Father and Gardener with my growth. <br />
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i told my lilac pruning friend, denise to keep me posted on the those beauties and let me know how they do this spring...and next--unless they die...that would suck. she said she would and--like a good friend--said if they died she'd lie and just get new ones without telling me;) <br />
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so i guess it's me and the lilacs, racing towards the sun...Unknownnoreply@blogger.com8