tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-82158203414989384452024-03-05T01:09:45.995-05:00METAMORPHOSISThe ever changing world around us.....Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.comBlogger180125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-23733270956424573352015-08-04T08:53:00.006-04:002015-08-04T08:53:53.901-04:00I Have Moved<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;">Please visit my new website at </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><a href="http://www.angiedailey.com/" target="_blank">www.angiedailey.com</a></span></div>
Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-48674407920196646762015-07-18T14:20:00.000-04:002015-07-18T14:20:25.821-04:00A September to Remember<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am so excited.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You all are familiar with Jen Hatmaker, right? I have been participating in an awesome and very unique experiment in book launching. I applied and was chosen as one of the #500 to read and review, share and endorse her new book coming out August 18 called, <b>For The Love.</b> You can purchase her book <a href="http://forthelovebook.com/" target="_blank">HERE</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As part of this amazing experience - and it has been amazing- I am going to Jen Hatmakers amazing farmhouse for a weekend of book-launch party fun. There will be food. And friends from all over the world. And music. And book talk. And other writers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am so excited. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And I have to buy a plane ticket. And get a hotel room. And a rental car. And I might want to eat. And maybe buy a Texas t-shirt?!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This entire experience has been so amazing. It has really made a huge difference in my writing, in my day to day prayer life, in my life in general. I have made friends with women and men that I never would have met if it hadn't been for this amazing opportunity. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And the book. Cannot say enough about it. It is funny, serious, striking and a cookbook all in one. There is something in it for everyone to relate to, over such a broad audience of readers! I cannot wait for you to all read it and enjoy it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><i><b>What I need from you is something very important. I need serious prayer. I haven't traveled alone for a very long time. Over 20 years actually. Its a different world now, and I would be lying if I said I wasn't anxious. I also need prayer over the financial aspect of this trip. This was not in our budget, and every time I take this "off my beam" I have a strong conviction to go. Not my selfishness. Not my decision- a real, actual conviction. I am trying not to worry because I know God is provisional. I am Angie, the great worrier. I will not put my family in line behind this trip. Yet I have RSVP'd and I am praying and sweating at the same time. It all sounds so silly. Yet this is a very real, very amazing opportunity for me. I have reasons beyond it being "cool" to go. I just cannot work anymore hours. I just do not have anything laying around to sell. I do not have time for a fundraiser. So I pray. (sometimes for a money tree) And I am asking that you pray with me for everything to fall into place so that I can be a blessing as part of this family of writers and friends. </b></i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Thank you all so much. You are awesome.</span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-44787660261908409622015-07-13T10:50:00.000-04:002015-07-13T10:50:27.976-04:00Be Where You Are<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When sitting in various places where we all wait, I spend a lot of time just taking in all my surroundings. I look at weird things- the way a room is decorated, paint colors, furniture and most of all, I observe people and how they spend their time waiting with and for one another. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am a multi-tasker, but I am much more efficient if I have a list where I can check off the things I need to do, as well as the things I want to accomplish. Sometimes I even have a list for my lists- sounds silly I know. My hubs commented once that I could get several things done in the time it takes me to make a list sometimes. Well, that may be true, but at least I am trying to be productive. And there is a certain sense of accomplishment when you can look at something that has been checked off and say "I did it" Dora style. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes I even dance. Its a thing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When I make a list of things to do, I try to focus on the moment, where I am, what is happening that day and how I can get something done efficiently yet correctly. I like to keep myself "all in". When I have people coming over, I like to have the "prep work" all done, unless the purpose of their visit is to share in that kind of thing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This leads me to the point of "Being where you are". I have this written on the wall next to my bed, where I see it when I wake up and when I go to bed. It reminds me to disconnect and focus on who I am with and what I am doing at the moment. (Side Note- Kinda important to be where you are when in bed with your husband on any level) I think for a lot of us, we can be easily distracted by all the world has to offer. There are very few moments of quiet in our lives, and when we get them we need to focus on them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">One place where I see people not "being where you are"- at church. I cannot tell you how frustrated I am when I hear a cell phone ring, see someone texting or going out to answer a call. There are exceptions, of course- the EMTs who attend our services have radios- doesn't bother me a bit. The pagers for the nursery- although I do not entirely understand this technology, I do understand the momma's need for security. The ones who do not put their babies in the nursery- distraction! Be In CHURCH. Seriously. People spent a lot of time making this 2 hours count for you, and your presence is important to them, to God and should be important for yourself. So get off your phone. Put your kid in the nursery. Be a little selfish and take a moment for yourself while you have the chance. This time is important for me too, and I don't need any other distractions other than the ones in my brain. Really. Think about those around you that may need the time- it could be the only time they get.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Let me set the record straight.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had 4 kids grow up in this church. 4. They started out in the nursery from birth, and continuously graduated up the grades and classrooms until they got into high school. I was separated from them every Sunday for 2 glorious hours. 2. Glorious. Hours. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was a stay at home momma. I needed Sunday morning for more than just worship- I needed it to regroup. I needed it to spend time with my Saviour and my friend. I still feel the same way. I got to hold my husbands hand during our singing time. Without another little person hanging on either of us. Sometimes they cried. Sometimes I cried. Mostly I celebrated the fact that I had a moment with Jesus without worrying about my kiddos. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> My kids are old enough now to know better about walking out of church for going to the bathroom, getting a drink or otherwise. If I ever see them texting I will forcibly take their phone. If they are getting up to walk out, they had better be sick. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Be Where You Are.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Church.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Date Night.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">School.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Hospital Visits.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Have the courage to listen, watch, learn about everything in the moment you are in, at the present time and place. Be all there. Learn the words to the songs during worship, understand their meaning. Take notes during the sermon- read those extra verses which are spoken not written. Pray harder. Laugh louder. Say thank you to someone who planned the worship hour. Appreciate that we have the opportunity to go to church, baseball games, dinner dates and movies. Pull up a lawn chair and have a conversation with your family and friends. Buy an extra large popcorn. Put another log on the fire. Pour another cup of coffee. Shut off your ringer, turn down those notifications, utilize airplane mode. Give yourself and those you love a break. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Be Where You Are.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-66811979738699178202015-07-10T12:25:00.000-04:002015-07-10T12:25:32.855-04:00A High Five.....In Your Face. Today I am participating in a link-up <a href="http://mrsdisciple.com/high-five/" target="_blank">HERE</a><br />
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So, you precious reader, can read me here or over there. :)<br />
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My High Fives are going in the face today... as giant amounts of praise to The Creator of the Universe for all the blessings little and big. <br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;"> The first High Five goes to my Husband who made a HUGE decision this
morning- and when I say HUGE I mean HUGE. He is ALWAYS thinking of me
and right now, what is best for my future as a writer. He is sending me to meet a
group of women I have been longing to connect with in person- and
sacrificing our anniversary trip to do it.I have no words to express my gratitude for this man I have been blessed with. God is so good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A BIG High Five to my friend who has raised her eldest son to be a Man of God. Yesterday this young man who just graduated high school read my blog, and showed up on my doorstep with coffee and brownies. There are no words to describe how many high-fives this momma deserves. In the midst of her life which is happening at a furious pace, she has this huge win in parenting. God is so good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My third High Five goes out to my sweet daddy and momma- cancer is never easy, yet these two have kept their humble spirit of laughter, tears and hope just rolling. Through Chemo, radiation, dehydration, hospitalization and everything that comes with it- they are rock stars. Double High Fives for them as they eat hospital food and sleep in beds that aren't theirs. Recovery is in the future. God is so good.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My fourth High Five goes to my children who continue to scare me, then amaze me with their charm, wit and love. They are so fierce when protecting each other and their family. I love their individual ways, their honesty- though at times brutal, and their ability to hold me in awe. They are such a blessing. And even though are all almost grown- even in their adult and pseudo-adult phases, I see them as my babies. God is so good. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">My final High Five goes to Jesus. Thank you Jesus for not high-fiving my face every time I do something stupid, say something unfortunate or wear something appalling. Thank You for sacrifice, grace, mercy and wisdom to know when its applicable. Thank You for forgiveness, virtue and the ability to be myself, even when others don't get me. Thank you for the few who understand, the many who do not and the ones who will figure it out in Your time. Thank you for carrying me when I am too weak to carry myself. God is so good.</span><br />
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<br />Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-33622002039865638522015-07-09T12:23:00.000-04:002015-07-09T12:29:59.746-04:00This Bumpy Road<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">On the bumpy road of life there are many things that can hold us back. I think the fear of how people interpret the truth about how we feel is one of those things. Written words often come with what some believe to be "hidden messages" . Writing can seem passive-aggressive, when in reality, if you could be in the room with the writer, often times its an emotional, heartfelt compilation of the life events they feel convicted to share, even if its not shiny and pretty the way we would all like our lives to be. Sometimes, the comments, emails and criticism I get from my social media pages, my blog and my shared journal entries are due to lack of facing the ugly truth that we are all human. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Sometimes I just screw up. I am more than willing to admit that. Sometimes, I am misinterpreted, and sometimes I am convicting in what I have to say. (most of the time I have no idea about this one) I do not set out to hurt anyone, betray trust or cause conflict. I just write what is on my heart. Prayerfully, emotionally and sometimes with great reservation . With that, I have some things today that are on my heart, that I want to share with you, and its the hard stuff.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">On April 27, I was doing my thing at work, and I got a message. My parents wanted to see my husband and I. Right away. I knew something was amiss, yet I was trying not to panic. After work it was revealed to me ( by a gross graphic picture- thanks dad) that my dad had a tumor at the base of his esophagus. It was most likely malignant, and it was the cause of his heartburn, inability to eat much of anything, and unrest. Taking cues from dad and his AMAZING ability to keep his cool, I responded with "So where do we go from here?" </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Where we ended up is where I stand now. Dad has been in the hospital for 3 days. He was malnourished and dehydrated. He hasn't shared an actual meal with us for weeks. He has lost a ton of weight and is weak. His spirits go from great to super low, and his body is just out of whack. Chemotherapy and radiation are over, and he is in that re healing process, where you have to heal from your treatment to have the tumor removed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">It apparently is a whole thing and I guess we are just supposed to deal with it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Except what I really want to do is scream. At the doctors. At God. At my family, my church and this entire world. MY dad cannot be going through this. He. Just. Cannot.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">He is the one they call when they need something. He is the one that gives and gives and gives of himself until there is nothing left. My mom is suffering while she watches her husband of 43 years whither away physically and mentally. It is taking its toll. My biggest question throughout this entire process?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Where is everyone?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Where are you family?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Where are you church?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Where are you friends?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Where?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">Why does my mom go for days without hearing from anyone except the 5 of us that call her everyday? Why is no one offering to bring a meal, mow the grass, pray in person or sit on the patio and talk? What has happened that has changed us so much in the last 20 years that my parents are literally in the fight of their lives and they are left on their own for the most part?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My husband and I have been members of the same church our entire married lives. I have been there since I was 8. I was expecting more. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My dad has 6 siblings. I have over 30 first cousins, not counting spouses and their children. I was expecting more.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My parents and my brother and I have many friends. I was expecting more. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I expect too much. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">I sit here with my Bible open, my prayers jumbled. I sit here thinking I would like to walk away from all of it, yet knowing I won't. I am angry, hurt, frustrated. I am tired of feeling like I have to live up to the expectation of everyone else, when very few are willing to do the same for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;">My dad being sick is inconvenient for us, too. We have jobs, children, grandchildren, responsibilities. We did not plan on spending our summer this way, and neither did he and mom. But this is where we are, and this is where we will be.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-4618829812202903482015-06-22T13:03:00.000-04:002015-07-22T16:04:57.780-04:00Dear Church Ladies....with articleA couple weeks ago, I contributed to this website with a letter to the ladies of the church....I love womens ministry...and I really feel the need for it more and more. Follow the link <a href="http://bedrocksandborderlands.com/2015/06/12/letters-to-the-family-angie/" target="_blank">HERE</a> I hope you enjoy my letter and understand I really mean it with all my heart. <br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Dear Ladies in Church,</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I often wonder what it would be like if we all saw ourselves as equals, like Jesus did. I dream of a day when Women’s Ministry is a priority for all of us, fellowshipping with one another and praying together. I have a picture in my mind’s eye of a room full of women of all ages, worshipping and loving, just like we are supposed to do. I see an empty seat and worry about where YOU are tonight. Are you spending this evening alone? Are you so wrapped up in television, socializing or working that there is no time for your church family? Are you hurting, feeling lonely and afraid? Is there something we need to know, something we can help you through? I miss you on an evening so full of fun and grace. I really wanted to share my story with you, and to hear your story. I want to know your triumphs as well as your tragedies. I want to hold your hand when you need it, and lean on your shoulder when I need to.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Forgive me for questioning your motives; I just do not understand the great divide that has become between us as women. The most valuable things I have ever learned, I learned from the generation that is older than I am. There is so much to be shared, learned and loved when we gather as one. We have the power to influence our families, our church bodies and our communities. When we stand united through Christ, we can make such a difference in so many ways, and it starts right here, in our own churches. As women in the body of Christ, we all read the Bible, we worship together in our home churches, and we pray to the same Living God. We drop our kids off at Sunday school, and we hear the message each week, yet we are all so very much divided. I think upon further investigation, we will find we have more in common than we are willing to admit.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am still praying for the day when all of our physical, political and societal differences can be put aside, so we can spend some quality girl-time together. I would love to drink coffee with you, splurge on chocolate cake and cry over our heartaches. I would love to be a witness to the great testimony of friendship and grace that only Christ can bring into a relationship like ours could be. I would love to walk into any church and know that I am accepted because I belong to Jesus, our most important common thread.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I will close this letter with this- I am missing the fellowship of women who laugh, love and live as fiercely as I do. I see them every week, as you do, and then they are gone until the next service starts. I feel as though I am missing something, and it’s something I have only had a brief taste of. Christian friendships among women are important, and fellowship and unity are part of that. I don’t want to be a part of a small clique; I want to be part of the women at my church. Most of all, I want you to be a part of your church too.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Angie Dailey</span><br />
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</header>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-27131886288772534392015-06-22T12:28:00.001-04:002015-06-22T12:28:43.503-04:00Hollywood JesusLast week, I had the privilege of writing a review for the hit series, "A.D. The Bible Continues"...<br />
you can see my work <a href="http://www.hollywoodjesus.com/a-d-the-bible-continues-exclusive-interview-with-actress-chipo-chung/" target="_blank">HERE</a><br />
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When watching this series, I normally have my Bible opened up to the chapter and follow along as best I can. If you haven't seen this series, I highly recommend it. I cannot say enough about it, bringing the Bible to life in such a way to reach others and make them ask questions. I will let you review it for yourself.Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-33115778118087353292015-06-19T00:35:00.001-04:002015-06-19T00:35:15.519-04:00Why Not?<p dir="ltr">Once in a while, I meet a person who has no excuses. When planning this current missions trip, lots of people signed up as "interested". 46 people in fact. We had an amazing mix of families, singles and couples, all with talents and abilities that could really make short of a days work here at Red Sands. </p>
<p dir="ltr">My how quickly things change when a commitment is needed. We brought 8 people from our church. 8. Needless to say I was sorely disappointed. I had a hard time accepting all of the reasons and excuses that were given. </p>
<p dir="ltr">Before I go on, let me say, I do understand when there are legitimate health concerns. I really do. What I do not understand is the lack of faith and the inability for people to trust the same God who they pray to for everything else to be provisional for this.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I have people ask me all the time why do you go to Arizona? Why do you have to go there to work? Why do you have to pay to go? Why do you pack up some stuff and sleep on a mattress on the floor in a tiny school to be dragged around the desert for a week at a high altitude and be completely exausted when you return?</p>
<p dir="ltr">My answer is simple.</p>
<p dir="ltr">Why not?</p>
<p dir="ltr">If God says go, I am going. If God says stay, I sit tight. When the Creator of the Universe says "go to Arizona and love my people Angie", I don't argue with that. I change my habits. I eat peanut butter more. I quit buying myself stuff I don't need. I tighten up the grocery bill, and coupon and shop for deals. I am flexible with my plans, so I can put away money to cover my travel costs. I quit ordering pizza. I pray more, spend less. I make a few unnoticeable sacrifices and guess what?</p>
<p dir="ltr">It is worth every penny. It is worth every second. It is worth the look of <u>hope</u> on the homeless man's face. It is worth seeing the desert sunset. It is worth encountering a rattlesnake. (Still anticipating that one with joy) It is worth the all day travel to get here. It is worth the hurtful growing and stretching the Creator of the Universe provides for me to make an impact in this way.</p>
<p dir="ltr">I will not apologize for loving this place. I will pray everyday for my new friends who have no where to call home. I will cry when we have to leave again. I will miss the desert sun, sand and rocks.I will seek God's direction in preparing for the return trip- because really...why not?</p>
<p dir="ltr">So as this trip comes to a close and you are reading this I have one answer and one question for you when the opportunity arises for a short term missions trip.</p>
<p dir="ltr">It is simply- why not?</p>
Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-84342198150256848682015-06-12T05:00:00.000-04:002015-06-12T07:28:59.301-04:00Friday Fun<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>As part of a blogging community, sometimes someone comes up with a fantastic idea....this is one of those times...</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">By clicking <a href="http://mrsdisciple.com/?p=1156&preview=1&_ppp=e23bd569f8" target="_blank">HERE</a> you can visit this sisters blog, and links to other writers for Fun Friday. I love being part of a writing community. And this is just one reason why.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Five Favorite Things....the things I fav based on my senses . </span></div>
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<b style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">To See-</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This week I am blessed to see full suitcases, ready to leave on a
missions trip this week. This will be our first time leading, so prayers are
much appreciated. We will fly across the country and end up in a little
church and school just on the outskirts of the Navajo Reservation near Winslow
Arizona. Last year hubs and I fell in
love with this place, this mission, and these people. So anticipating this
journey. <a href="http://redsands.cc/" target="_blank">VISIT HERE</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">I am trying to focus on hearing only good things. This world is
hurting from every direction, and I can make the choice to hear positive music,
listen to amazing podcasts and read uplifting material. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">My favorite song is
David Crowder’s “He loves us” ….<a href="https://www.google.com/url?sa=t&rct=j&q=&esrc=s&source=web&cd=1&cad=rja&uact=8&ved=0CCAQyCkwAGoVChMI5Z7ygqiFxgIVAUWsCh05ngBR&url=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fwatch%3Fv%3DTCunuL58odQ&ei=aEZ4VeXKMIGKsQW5vIKIBQ&usg=AFQjCNGoQAu6lLdyq1QHZ3-wvNVxOlIhnQ&sig2=zmhEfOkDfNbWGlwrXkA-8Q&bvm=bv.95039771,d.b2w" target="_blank">listen here</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>To Touch-</b> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This one is easy for me- I lay in bed at night and know that for
this moment, I can reach over and touch my husband, knowing he is right beside
me, praying just as hard as I am for all the things we talk about each day.
Holding his hand is the best touch, has been for over 25 years. He is my BFF.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVldiGHq23r6mfMgzvy4szcwkubyu1LVA6Ej98QCWjulnCs2ZRAHA7RwZa366-7uj1hQNv1Y8SrZ4eUCp5mISozseCF_zv6dsBngZOCCL73d4lI3-3QXCjIXVAjSnA_RrFRyYwmk-bZB5U/s1600/IMG_1805.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVldiGHq23r6mfMgzvy4szcwkubyu1LVA6Ej98QCWjulnCs2ZRAHA7RwZa366-7uj1hQNv1Y8SrZ4eUCp5mISozseCF_zv6dsBngZOCCL73d4lI3-3QXCjIXVAjSnA_RrFRyYwmk-bZB5U/s320/IMG_1805.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>To Smell-</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When I hear the tractor start up I know I am in for a treat. I love the
small of fresh cut grass. I like to sit on the patio at the table and write
while the grass glistens in the morning dew.
As soon as the sun hits the lilies, the sweet smell reminds me of
younger days when the kids were little. Cherishing those memories and enjoying
their new freedoms.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Hpl4M9Dt7p-f2_ChQPyFE0AWQxg5y8w7YhDZLpwGO_8woJ_MRz3d4yxD6LarVN-5bw4iOSm7heHvNl2EJUj8K8Rm1U3NFA8xpLlycVE1fORqB6rM-wPePjHToF89MxoOecsf57OsBymm/s1600/10301937_10207080465677040_3989812632273816615_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6Hpl4M9Dt7p-f2_ChQPyFE0AWQxg5y8w7YhDZLpwGO_8woJ_MRz3d4yxD6LarVN-5bw4iOSm7heHvNl2EJUj8K8Rm1U3NFA8xpLlycVE1fORqB6rM-wPePjHToF89MxoOecsf57OsBymm/s320/10301937_10207080465677040_3989812632273816615_n.jpg" width="176" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>To Taste-</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<o:p><span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> </span></o:p><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">This week my favorite taste will be of no surprise to anyone reading
this. My favorite coffee, in my favorite mug, with a caramel creamer…mmmmm. The
taste of hot coffee accompanied by breakfast and quiet morning porch time. I am
pretty sure the porch affects my overall taste. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">Those are my personal Favorites for this Friday.</span></div>
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Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-47030707357056038062015-06-10T10:04:00.005-04:002015-06-10T10:04:59.100-04:00Today is a Good Day<h2 class="elps" style="background-color: #fafafa; font-family: 'Source Sans Pro', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-weight: 400; line-height: 1.2em; margin: 10px 0px; overflow: hidden; padding-right: 145px; text-overflow: ellipsis; text-rendering: optimizeLegibility; white-space: nowrap;">
<a href="http://mybible.com/bibles/nlt/books/gal/chapters/6/verses/9" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="color: #b45f06;">Galatians 6:9</span></a></h2>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><b>"So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest of blessing if we don’t give up."</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In light of some ruckus going on in the lives of many that I love, I am choosing for all of us that today is a Good Day, before it even begins for some. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Here are my thoughts: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Good things tend to multiply when they are rewound and played again. Therefore, I am listening to GOOD music, uplifting with a beat to move to or a tune that slows you down, allowing you to focus on the GOOD. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Keeping the television turned off, unless it is tuned to a music channel providing the GOOD music... No news really is good news, and some days we need good news. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> (insert exception for Baseball games; they are all good)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">GOOD food- let me take a moment to digress- I do not care what kind of food someone eats on any given day. However- if you are struggling with weight, sugar, self esteem and you are "eating healthy" I am not saying to eat junk. I am saying- eat what is good to you. Take a moment for something delish. GOOD is GOOD regardless.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">GOOD people. I want to be around good engaging people! Conversation or coffee and silence. Its all good, if its GOOD. I would encourage you to have an intentional good conversation with someone today. Talk about something GOOD. I am choosing to have no negative conversations today. Turn it around- you know you can. Tell someone in the midst of crisis you love them. Give them a hug. GIve them a coffee. Give them a smile- they are free.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">GOOD work...find a little slice of joy in your work. Just a little. My slice comes in all sizes and shapes. It comes in people, packages, little things I can do to make someones day GOOD. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Send a message to the ones hurting, or waiting in the hospital for a loved one to come out of surgery. Send a smiley emoticon to a friend struggling at work, or a husband frustrated with something in his job. Send a card to a person who needs a friend. Post a scripture about joy, peace or love. Use social media to set a precedent of GOOD. My personal favorite- have a pizza delivered to the single mom who is stuck at home with the kids- again. (someone did this for me once- I never forgot it)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There are all kinds of ways for you and I to choose to have a GOOD day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Lets get out there and DO IT....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-58852908143052395142015-06-01T12:33:00.000-04:002015-06-01T12:33:08.512-04:00The Things No one Told Me: Take Three<div>
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The third child has entered his Senior year of high school....</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The last of our kids is finishing up drivers ed and is officially a Junior in high school.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Oy.</span></div>
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How did this happen, and where was I?</div>
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When the third child- (who shall not be mentioned by name lest I get the silent treatment for a week) was always a little ornery. He has a beautiful smile, blue eyes and enough hair to make a nice shag rug for my bathroom, if I were into that sort of thing. </div>
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He loves cars and movies. He plays more xbox than I care to admit, and has a very small close circle of friends. </div>
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Did I mention he is a man size child now? Man size. My little blonde haired boy is man sized. He works very hard, spends his money on guy stuff and likes to eat as much junk as he can. </div>
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When he was little, he was such a comic- always making us laugh, always being the clown. His blonde curls bouncing everywhere as he climbed trees and collected sticks. He spent a lot of time ourdoors, and a lot of it was with his siblings. He has grown into a very opinionated, confident , independent young man. He loves fiercely, and is never afraid to tell the truth. Even if it hurts. And sometimes it does, believe me. <br />
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He is smart, mechanically & technically very blessed with the ability to troubleshoot about anything. He is a rock when I need him to be, and a kid when I don't. He grumbles a bit, but he has a heart of gold. And I am super proud to be his momma. (Plus I think he has the best man cave ever)</div>
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I was never prepared for his brutal honesty or his heartbreaking emotions. He isn't like anyone else I know- just a genuine, new creation.</div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I remember when the fourth child was little, riding his three wheeled bike until the wheels fell off. More recently he has been building his own bikes out of parts of various rides that we purchase at auctions. Some of them have turned out pretty cool. Some, not rideable. </span><span style="font-family: 'Trebuchet MS', sans-serif;">He is the one with the most broken bones, the most emergency room visits, the most bandaid use. He is the one with the benefit of 3 siblings before him. He knows how to cut to the chase and just ask for what he wants. He knows how to be obedient, and he knows exactly how to push my buttons. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He has had the longest hobby/interest...music. He plays the sousaphone in marching band and quickly became a leader in that arena, unbeknownst to his parents. He sings in show choir with ease. He has an easy going personality and is very compassionate with all living things, people, animals, plants. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This one is going to be the death of me, I am sure. He was an unexpected blessing, when 3 kids were so overwhelming I thought I might die. He ended up being fearless of most things. He is willing to try almost anything. And he has a great smile. The thing no one ever told me? The one thing I am so taken by surprise with? He is just like his father. I see it in him everyday. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">He looks so much like him it is incredible. When he is performing with choir, he has a striking resemblance. When he is spending time with the little kids, he is on their level, just like hubs was when our kids were little. He is compassionate like his father. He is funny like his father, and he is serious just like his father. He is also very in tune with- his mother. He can tell when something is wrong with me without even asking. He can see when I am about to cry, he can see when I am ready to bust out laughing. Very very intuiative when it comes to his momma. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> These boys have turned my house into a testosterone filled space- I am the only girl, having to hold my own. It has been quite an adjustment, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. No one ever told me how much my heart could break and be so full all at once. No one ever said "yeah, being a parent sucks sometimes", I could have used that warning a bit. There was never a guide to tell me that one day we would be here, with less discipline and more friendship, less asking me everything and more them having to make responsible decisions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I sit and wait to hear about their day, the good and the bad. I wait to see what tomorrow brings. And I am wondering what else I haven't been prepared for. Because it is my realization that a mommas heart is never prepared, not really.</span><br />
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Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-82487341526856495302015-05-26T13:34:00.000-04:002015-05-26T13:34:13.763-04:00Its Not That Hard<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Why is it when Christian people see another Christian person, or family, going through something, we just stop and stare? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It is not that hard to say, I Love You. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It is not that hard to smile encouragingly.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It is not that hard to take a hand and say a silent prayer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Or is it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am no different than any other wife, momma, woman in my church. When I hurt, I do it for the most part silently. There are parts of my life that are off limits to public scrutiny. However, there are parts of my life that are seriously public, and seem to be open season for scrutiny. Why is it the people I should be able to lean on the hardest, let me down the most? Why do Christian people think it is their job to judge, demoralize and condemn? </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Don't we get enough of that from ourselves? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am for the most part, my worst critic. However, when I just need a silent person to listen to me, a quiet prayer said on my behalf or a kind look followed by a strong hug....sometimes I am feeling left in the cold.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Jesus would be so disappointed in us as a culture. I really believe that. He never turned anyone away that was willing to follow Him, learn from Him, even get healing from Him. But, He also did not wait for them to make a decision. It was now or never. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes that is the reality of our problems, we need help now, or never. When I am standing before you with my heart beating so wildly with grief that I cannot hear you speak, I need to know your words are in prayer. I need to know I mean something to you, and that my life is worth something. I need to be reassured that even in my failures, lifes disappointments and sickness, I have my Church to depend on. I have my brothers and sisters in Christ to lean on.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What I don't need are sidelong glances at your other Christian friend, judgmental comments or being flat out ignored. What I don't need is pity, to be undermined or to be thought of as weak. What I don't need is your silence. None of us need your silence.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What I need is for you to see my heart is broken, my finances are wavering or my spirit is being crushed. I need you to know my family member is ill, my kids are flailing in this world or my car is irreparable.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I need you to say it will be ok, because you believe it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I need you to pray, and not just say you are praying.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I need you to love me, my family and our circumstances, come what may, unconditionally.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have at least one friend who is going through some real life stuff right now. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Finances. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Instability.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Personal loss.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Grief.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Childrens issues.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">All. At. Once.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">She is getting the "looks" from the very people who should be raising her up in prayer against something that can only be considered spiritual warfare. And yet so many sit on the sidelines of her current messy moments and watch to see how it will play out. People with resources. People with hands and feet and mouths. People who think that by being like Jesus, they have something to lose. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am so very disturbed by this very situation, and so humbled that I have the opportunity to pray for her right now. It only takes the faith of a mustard seed to move a mountain.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Be a better Christian.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Its. Not. That. Hard.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-8420297630828076472015-05-20T09:38:00.002-04:002015-05-20T09:38:44.389-04:005-20-2015<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This morning I was awakened to noises coming from all directions. The neighbor is mowing. The birds are singing. The television downstairs was on and my cell phone was dinging with notifications.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I clearly needed a few more quiet moments, and I wasn't going to get them here. I jumped into the shower, washed my hair, and let the hot water run over me, cleansing me from yesterdays life-mess. After all, yesterday is gone, and now I have to focus on what today brings. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I prayed hard, bringing myself to tears as I let go of the many things weighing me down. I prayed for God to take them from me, release me from their hold. I am a worrier by nature, and it has always been a problem for me. Let it go, He says. Let Me worry about it, He whispers to my heart. How thoughtful is the God of the universe, to whisper to my heart just when I need it most?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When in doubt, add a cup of coffee to the mix of prayer and thanksgiving. I love my coffee, but I love my God more. I hold the warm cup with a sense of completion- a sense of calm washes over me. I realize that no matter what happens today, I can handle it because of the comfort that whisper in my heart brings. When I have doubts- and I have them-I try to focus on the very thing that woke me this morning- those birds. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">If the birds of the air have no worries, no fears, then why should I? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When life brings me lemons...well, you know. But to that you must add sweetener, and ice to make it all that much better. I know how to sweeten my current state- read His word. Speak to Him often. Sing His praise and rely on His goodness. This life is hard. It just is. And I can't control other people, their motives or their actions. I can control how I react to them, how much I pray on their behalf and how much I let them play with my emotions. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today I will end with this- I love my life, as hectic, crazy and frazzled as it seems to most. I am an emotional creature, and I think God has big plans for making me this way. So, I will carry on with today and everyday as if it is the best one, because someday it will be.</span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-847284331253938462015-05-18T10:24:00.000-04:002015-05-18T10:24:15.618-04:00The Jekyll/Hyde within me<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">There is no amount of coffee that can handle a Monday like today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today, my dad starts chemotherapy and radiation, and it terrifies me. Every single horrible and worst case scenario that can run through my head has already done so, consistently over the past two weeks. I am so consumed with his situation that I am not functioning as a normal person anymore.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I just don't care about much else. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">For the first time in years I blew my top- at a co-worker, in front of customers and other employees. I picked a fight with my husband. I told the girl at McDonald's not to call me "sweetie"- ever again. I slept part of the night on the couch, and I didn't get up when my boys did this morning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Wow Mr. Hyde.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Those are going to be some consequences, but I'm all, press on & keep swimming- (says that stupid little fish).</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Is there anyone else I need to alienate, hurt, call out or pick a fight with? Poor undeserving people. I am better serving everyone if I just sit here alone and get this out of my head. So I shall try.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Dr. Jekyll in me would like to have dropped to my knees and prayed the second I found out my dad was sick. Just grabbed his hand, moms hand and gone straight to my redeemer. My aunt would have thought I was crazy- my uncle would have poured me some coffee. Over the past two weeks it has been a blur of appointments and tests. I have spent more time with my brother in the past two weeks than in the past year. (weird since we live 2 miles apart)</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Cancer is the devil.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">But I am going to choose to use it as a tool. I know what you are thinking. I AM crazy, and that is OK. I will just validate it for you right now. Stick with me here- this is what I am thinking. If this is what it takes for God to get my attention then He has it Fully and Completely. If this is the path our family will take, then we will not take it alone. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I do not write this for pity, I write it in hopes that my frustration in my inability to do anything at all to fix this disease for my dad will give some peace to someone else who is feeling helpless. It really does stink that there is suffering in this world, unexplained to those of us who just do not understand. Yet, I also know there is a time for everything, a season for all of us. The human body was created to be imperfect. It cannot last forever. Stuff goes wrong, and although it is a test of my faith sometimes, I know God has a plan as always.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">OK Mr Hyde- time for an appearance- I am angry, irritated and confused at the stupid things people say. I have heard a few cliche things that should be stricken from all vocabulary to the extent that sometimes I feel a replay of the tower of babble would be timely. Got something to say about this that is just empathetic? -BAM- you now speak Spanish. Want to tell me how sorry you are? BAM Chinese for you. How about the empty promise of " Call me if you need anything?" BAM BAM...you get a new language no one has heard yet. Sounds pretty crappy, I know. Blame Mr. Hyde. He is out of control.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In the coming weeks I have to learn to deal with the exhaustion of my momma, who by all rights is already exhausted. I have to work out my work schedule so I can be an asset to her. ( with a manager I already upset this weekend...) I need to be super patient with my kids who irritate me with their nonsense when I am emotional, I have to be focused when I am writing so I don't drive all of you away. I need to be a source of strength for my dad when he feels weak, and in constant prayer with my husband so we can lift everyone each day for as long as it takes. I need to be bathed in prayer, understanding and compassion like never before. I would like to say I can suppress Mr Hyde from popping out anytime in the near future. However, I know better than to make a promise I am not sure I can keep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I will leave you with this- this life is for real. I am for real. Just when your pants get comfortable something comes along and bunches them all up again. Just when you feel you are understanding something, something else you cannot fathom comes along. Just when you feel you have everything under control, God sends a simple reminder that you are never in control- that is what He is for. </span><br />
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<br />Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-62327575257060894332015-05-13T05:00:00.000-04:002015-05-13T05:00:00.826-04:00I appreciate you<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I Appreciate You.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The words hung in the air as tears streamed down my face in the warm greenhouse. I was having an especially rough morning, when nothing I did met the unreal expectation of another, and I finally got some encouragement that I needed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"I appreciate you, Angie", said Liz, my new co worker and friend. As I listened to her words in disbelief, I was in awe of her courage to even say such a thing to me that was so powerful. No one ever talks to me like that. Not ever. I am accustomed to criticism, cynical remarks, and snide comments. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I was an older college student- old enough to be most of the other students mom. I was a new employee to this company- had all the technical knowledge- none of the experience. I was a mom of 4, grandmother and wife. I had more life experience than I cared to share with new people. And the second I was spoken to like I was unworthy, all my fears and insecurity came rushing back. Her words changed that. They made me feel as if God had a plan for me, and it wasn't here. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Where God?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The only reason I lasted the weeks I did in the job was because of those few words. They were full of sincerity, compassion and love. Being misunderstood is one thing- being disliked and misunderstood- whoa. It was supposed to be a fresh start- little did I know it was going to blead to another new start. A sense of comfort came over me every time I heard her say it- even if it wasn't to me. I appreciate you. So its ok if you don't live up to the unreal expectation of every single thing that life throws at you. Jesus doesn't expect perfection- he expects obedience. When He speaks, we are to listen. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Do I think Liz was channeling Jesus? I'm not that crazy. But I do think it was a clear message to me that I was ok, that I was in the midst of a spiritual battle that only trusting in Him could fix, and that He would provide a way for me, regardless if I chose the incorrect path.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I haven't spoken to her in a long time- a mistake I made when I left. I consider her a seasonal friend- a person God chose to place in my path at the brink of my desperation. I had some great spiritual conversations with her, but the one thing that sticks with me is her ability to say, "I appreciate you". Not what you have done, but you. I often wonder if I could ever have the courage to be an encourager like that in the midst of an awful situation. And I often Thank God for Liz, my encourager who has no idea how much she impacts my life everyday with her kind intentional words. </span><br />
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Choosing intentional words carefully today.Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-87556299902156446832015-05-12T05:00:00.000-04:002015-05-12T05:00:02.010-04:00Mothers Day<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I already know what you are thinking- who wants to read another smooshy post about mothers day....well- let me assure you- there is nothing smooshy about this. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mothers day is a "holiday" that I don't really get. Ok, so, I understand honoring our mothers, and I understand the idea of her having a "day off", but in reality? I never get a day off, and I am ok with that. Let me paint you a picture:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My adult children call me regularly, and on occasion I get impromptu gifts and visits just because. My teenagers tell me thank you, love you and the occassional appreciative gesture and it satisfies me. All four of our children are very different, and all four of them are very special to me for different reasons. They are all my favorites. Grace is my favorite girl, (only girl), Maxx is my favorite musician, MT is my favorite car guy and M-1 is my favorite daddy. Their roles change, and so do the reasons why they are my favorites. There is nothing my children could do to make me walk away from them. Including not calling on Mothers day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Nothing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That being said, I tend to think Mothers day is everyday- and if you want your momma to feel loved then you love her. You do not have to always agree, always be together or always understand each other- that is part of it. You take each other at face value, you help pick up the pieces when they fall apart and you stay in her corner. There are always going to be situations where you are disappointed as a momma or a child- we are humans, it happens. The redeeming value is that Jesus provides a way for us to all be redeemed- through Him, so we can mess up soemtimes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"> I feel like Mothers day causes so much pain and anguish for those who don't have their momma, or their child. It is so commercial it drives me crazy. I am very careful to tell my girls Happy Mothers Day, but I am also very intentional about honoring their motherhood every other day of the year. We are mommas always. We are daughters always. Jesus blesses us everyday with the gifts of those relationships and experiences, so why don't we focus on them other days too? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I love the idea of having a day set aside- but I feel like it is better reserved for my birthday, and I feel like that for others too. I want the women in my life to know that they mean more to me than an expensive card and a bunch of flowers that will wither away to nothing, purchased and gifted one time a year to offset the other 364 days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sounds ridiculous when you look at it that way, doesn't it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">To the mommas out there I say happy everyday to you. Because you rock, and I know it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-58660057478818877822015-05-11T10:25:00.001-04:002015-05-11T10:25:18.213-04:00When your to do list just isnt getting it doneno time for punctuation today. no time for capitals, making sure things are spelled correctly, checking for run on sentences. no time. no time. no time. no time for fancy fonts, picture editing or details.<br />
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the to do list is too long, the day is too short and my mind is too full. Jesus take the wheel, i feel like the white rabbit.<br />
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when i wake in the morning and the first thing i do is start adding things to a page long list, i know i am in trouble. i skipped over morning prayer and straight into walk the dogs, feed the cats, make the coffee mode. i am already sorry for that.<br />
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i got in a hurry, stubbed my toe, forgot to put soap in the washer, left out my work clothes and knocked over a basket of beads. hmmmph. really. then i promptly went downstairs where i missed the bottom step and landed on my tailbone, and yelled a word i havent heard myself yell for a very long time.<br />
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ok so, lets call for a do over. this is what happens when we forget to put things in the right order. multitasking is not always a great idea. tomorrows list looks roughly like this;<br />
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PRAY-SING-WORSHIP-MEDITATE<br />
rest of to do list.<br />
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i can learn from my mistakes, and i will not be doing this again. when we fail to put Jesus first, we set ourselves up for rough passage. slow down He says. take a breath, He says.<br />
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when did i stop listening to the sweet whispers of my savior who only wants what only i can give Him- me?<br />
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that laundry isnt going to fold itself, especially if someone takes it out of the dryer to wear it first. there are only a few dishes, only a couple of floors and only a few moments of time sucked up to complete these tasks. however, on paper it creates an ominous list and our nature is to complete it at any cost. anything can be put off until tomorrow, but spending time with the Lord cannot ever be put off. if Jesus returns tonight, that to do list will waste away with the rest of it- however, i will be reponsible for not having time with Him on my paper, and that is something i am not willing to live with.<br />
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praying your to do list is better than mine today.<br />
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<br />Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-64041562609439630082015-04-20T11:41:00.000-04:002015-04-20T11:41:25.053-04:00Its Monday....Again<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Sometimes its just Monday again. I know what Monday means. The beginning of another long week of work and kids and looking forward to Sunday. Once Monday is over, we can focus on the rest of the days, until Monday rolls around again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My Monday started with rain, running errands and dropping off a resume. I never had any expectation with this resume, just that I was going to run inside this church, drop it off, maybe (hopefully) make a great first impression, then head home to write. Wow, did God have a different plan for me this morning. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I stepped into the office and was greeted with a room full of people. Someone said "can I help you?", in that "you are interrupting us" voice. Uh-oh. Strike one. I said, as politely as I could, "I was informed there may be a secretary job coming open and was interested in applying. "....</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"You're too late", said the voice, and pointed to not one, but two ladies who sat giving me a once over, then giggling in their chairs. Strike Two</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">AWKWARD. As disappointment washed over me, I said Thank You and started to leave. The sweet lady at the desk spoke up with a "Well, we could at least take her resume...". I handed my resume to the voice, said Thank You to her and promptly left. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Guess what happened next? I burst into tears of embarrassment and shame. Strike Three.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Its not even 11 as I write this, and I cannot help to think back on a chapter in a book I read that talked about the attitude Christians have and how that is a big reason for others to not want to get to know Jesus. I was not treated very nicely or Christ-like this morning. Maybe that is just "the voices" way, but it was hurtful to be made to feel as if I did something wrong and was interupting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Christian people- we need to get our acts together! I know there are times when I have hurt people- completely unintentionally. But I had to find a way to follow up with an apology, a humble, deep rooted I am sorry for hurting you. When we hurt other Christians, it cuts them like a knife. We are expected to be more to one another, to take care of one another, to nourish and support one another. We are expected by Christ to be Christ-like. But we have a hard time with this. Why all the competition? Why must we make people feel unworthy?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Making people feel unworthy is not what being a Christ follower is about. There is no room for making someone feel their work, their prayers, their hope and their worship isn't good enough. Only God himself gets to decide that. When we start making decisions about the ministry of others, we have overstepped our bounds completely. When we start intentionally deciding if specific people are going to participate in the way we minister to our families, to our churches, to the world, then we start unraveling all the good that has been woven up to that point. When we make decisions about people and their intentions, and we do not even ask those people, we have the potential to crush their spirit. Why do we let this continue to happen in our churches and in our ministries? How do we become less of a victim?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I do not have any answers to any of these questions, except to dive into scripture and make sure that every decision is biblically based and every person is given equal time to be a part of what Christ wanted- his ministry and church to grow and be a solid foundation for people to hold onto.</span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-141319464121574492015-04-14T11:54:00.000-04:002015-04-14T11:54:28.377-04:00Living in the BUBBLE<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">To ignite true change, you have to ignite something different, something fierce, something that makes you want to get up in the morning and be - different. Over the past few years I have been lighting these fires within myself, and putting them out as well. I have been reading lots of things that encourage me to slow down while listening to God speak to my heart, my soul. I have been taking things "Off the Beam" (<a href="http://jenhatmaker.com/books" target="_blank">#forthelove</a>), putting my best "YES" forward (<a href="http://lysaterkeurst.com/" target="_blank">Lysa Terkuerst</a>), and indescribably changing the people I am around, the things I participate in and the parts of the world in which I participate. </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I feel like God has so much more for me than I have settled for. Learning to speak the truth to Him, and learning to listen to Him have been the hard parts. I always question the little things, because I feel like I need perfect clarity. The problem isn't I need better clarity, the problem is I need to pay attention. I need to learn to recognize that still small voice that tells me to move forward, or to not move at all. I need to learn that listening is part of obedience, and obedience is the most important factor right now in my walk with Christ. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My hubs and I are focusing on being in tune with scripture, with God and with whatever He has in store for us. We understand what it means to make the tough decisions. We know how hard it is to parent kids who live at home, and those who are now adults. We sympathize with anguish over relationships with family, friends and other Christians. We know about financial hardship, about sacrificially living and about serving when sometimes you have nothing left of yourself to give. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Our Goal is to connect with others who also live in a world where nothing makes sense, and sometimes faith is all you have to look to in the morning. We love our porch, our small farm, our house, and our chickens. We love our family, our children, our grandchildren, and our friends. We know that in loving them, they have to get the best of us, regardless of the way we feel about their lifestyles, decisions and moments. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We are tired of living in the "bubble". It is simply exhausting.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Things happen. Sometimes not great things. Sometimes the things that happen are crappy, and sometimes they are downright unnerving. Some things that happen are amazing and should be celebrated. But a lot of the things that happen to us we keep hidden, somewhere deep inside, and we put on this "bubble" to protect ourselves from the judgement and conversation of others. I see this a lot at church, where everyone is expected to be on their "best" behavior. Where "bad things" cannot be discussed- instead they are brushed off, ignored, left swept under the rug. Where people ask you how you are, as they rush past, not really wanting to know the answer. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Why do we do this to ourselves, and other Christians? Why bother asking if you are just going to keep walking? What is wrong with the truth, anyway? Have we become so afraid to be like Jesus that we cannot even stop and listen when we are the ones prompting this conversation in the first place? Are we afraid we might have an obligation to be- helpful? Why take the time to pretend, when all we want is the closest exit door? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I know there are personal things. I know there are burdens some have to shoulder on their own. But I also know we serve a risen Saviour who wants us to be like Him. He wants us to pray with one another, hurt for one another, cry and laugh with one another. Instead we are standing in fear of the truths of someone elses life, and with fear, sometimes we stand in judgement. Are the things we fear coming from someone else actually our own fears we don't know how to deal with? </span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I would like to extend an invitation to anyone who is reading this- we need a dialogue about the real stuff we have to deal with everyday. The life changing, heart wrenching stuff- the things that change us, crush us, and things that compel us to move forward in our lives each day. We want to celebrate with you, all of those little achievements, all of those victories, and all of those smiles. I am not sure why we are so afraid to just release some of the things we need to be talking about. What I do know is there is a sweet release when you can let go of some of your fears when you find out you are not alone.</span></div>
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Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-25653829928150187512015-04-02T15:10:00.001-04:002015-04-02T15:10:14.772-04:00Easter Chance<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The Easter eggs are all stuffed, sorted and bagged. Dinner is planned, a grocery list is prepared. Now it is time for me to sit back and pray for the days ahead. Easter is not an easy holiday for some. It is full of convictions, uneasiness and guilt. For those who do not attend church regularly it can be a day full of anxiety and worry. Do I have on the right clothes? Do I have the correct Bible? Am I taking communion right? Where do I give money? Do I have to give money? What if the preacher looks at me while he is speaking? Do I have to shake his hand? Are my kids being good in class? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I will spend the next couple days praying for those who are in this situation, because they need Jesus just like I do. They need to see the very best of Him, in me and my church. They need an encouraging smile, a hug, and a hand shake. They need a kind word, an invitation back and some love. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I keep hearing a derogatory term that describes those who come to worship on Christmas and Easter....and I find it offensive. I have been guilty of saying it before, and I am very sorry for that. Instead of labeling someone, something we are very good at, why aren't we loving them instead? We pray for people we do not know all the time. We love people we have never met before. We touch the lives of strangers everyday- the opportunities are endless. Yet these people come into our churches, sit in our seats and praise with us and we give them nothing in return. They are coming TO US. We aren't inviting them, encouraging them, searching for them. They just show up, because for some reason they know this day is more important than the rest. They know enough to bring them here. We should love them enough to make them want to stay.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This Easter week as we prepare to go worship with our people and spend time with our Lord, we should be praying for the right words and actions to reach out to someone new, to make them feel more welcome than ever. Our place can be their place. Our Jesus is their Jesus. We just need to make sure they see Him in us. We need to do what He would do and love them where they are so they can move on to where He wants them to be. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Have a very blessed and safe Easter.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-35057254692136677292015-03-30T11:54:00.000-04:002015-03-30T11:54:08.159-04:00Oh Mary...<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I plan on spending a lot of quiet time this week. As I approach Easter and all it means, I prepare for the hustle of a hodge podge mix of family and friends to arrive on my doorstep for food, love and laughter. The kids will do their annual egg hunt- regardless of the weather, and we will be cleaning up from it for days. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">In building for the busy weekend, I often think of Mary, and all she had to endure. From the first moment the Angel of the Lord presented himself to her, right up until she saw her son, <i>risen from the grave</i>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">That is the part of this incredible true story that I cannot get my head wrapped around. Jesus rising on the third day is a given for me- I have always believed it, always turned to it and always appreciated it. But <i>Mary</i>. She had to endure so much as his mother, so much that not even his human father could bear for her. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As moms, we protect our children from as much as we possibly can. We fight for their rights, we protect them from the elements, other people, and sometimes themselves. We check on them in the night, making sure they are breathing and comfortable and warm. We drive past the school, making sure their car has been parked in its spot, slipping them gas money and fuzzy dice. We hold their hand in grief and sorrow at broken hearts and relationships. We watch them become parents, and grandparents, and we wonder where did the time go?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mary watched her son perform miracles, always knowing that one day he would leave her. Not understanding how and maybe wrestling with the why, but always knowing. Then to hear the crowd chant "Crucify Him", and watching them take him away. And right before he died, to hear him make sure she was taken care of, whoa. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I cannot imagine being Mary, arriving at the open tomb, knowing he was gone, then seeing him. The trauma of losing your child is more than one can bear, but then seeing him alive afterwards, what a shock. Then realizing who He really was. He was the Son of God. And He was the son of Mary. She had to stand in awe of Him, as he showed the hands and feet, and she knew it was Him. She must have been so joy filled, and yet so grief stricken. I am not sure how she even spoke to anyone. Her heart must have been so full. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This was her baby, whom she nursed, taught to walk, speak and love. He was a human for a short period of time, and He was a gift to her. She was worthy of such a gift, yet she probably did not realize how worthy until his resurrection. Oh to be entrusted with The Child of God. What an honor, and what pressure on her faith. Yet she didn't bend, was not sorrowful. She did not regret any of it, just basked in the light of his life, as she celebrated with the others, that Jesus was whole, and alive, and He was going to return for us all.</span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-85593617791184470582015-03-27T08:53:00.000-04:002015-03-27T08:53:38.455-04:00The Things No one Warned Me About: Take Two<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"Where are all the towels?"</span><div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Serious question when you are first married. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">"I think they are all dirty" I replied, not knowing the impact that was going to have on the rest of the day. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">You see, I had hair almost to my knees. I had to use two towels when I showered. If I used one, then huge parts of me would remain wet, making it difficult to dress myself. Hubs had a military crew cut, and used one towel, which he reused several times before chucking it in the hamper. I guess he learned it in basic training. I guess I was used to having my own washer and dryer at my disposal. We now were moved into an apartment where there was a small laundry room-downstairs. It took quarters. I didn't have a job or a car. It was a long day.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">After returning from the Laundromat- across town, I burnt dinner and later cried myself to sleep. I was an emotional wreck, having been taught the ins and outs of towel behavior from a man-child that was as culture shocked as I was at living with another human being for the first time. Plus I moved clear across the US and was missing home fiercely. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I knew my husband loved me. In all his colorblind glory he rented us an apartment before my arrival, thinking it was brown carpet, brown furniture. Turns out, green is the new brown. It was a furnished apartment and sometimes now I secretly would love to have that little space with zero junk to clean. Having such a tight space meant sharing that space with a BOY, all the time. The kitchen, bathroom, living room, TV, bedroom. AHEM. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had to share a bedroom with a boy. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Let me just set the record straight- I was already preggers with firstborn (who broke his mothers heart)- remember him? So it is not like I was completely unaware of my husband, his body or his presence. However- I was sleeping in the same bed with him. We had nightstands- plural. We were sharing a giant closet. Every time I moved, there he was. I had to share everything. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Morning breath.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Dirty clothes.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Decorating.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Blankets.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Snackfoods.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It soon led to all sorts of other things I didn't know were a possibility. Like helping to match hubs clothing- colorblind hubs. I never (OK maybe once) let him leave with a brown sock and a green sock. I made sure his shirts were actually his, and not mine for lack of paying attention. I had to tell him that I did not care if my underwear were folded, nor my socks mated, and that my two bras were supposed to have a wire in them.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I had to teach him what the bathroom fan was for, and I had to learn not to use all the hot water shaving my legs before the shower. That was a hard lesson. Our personal space was completely disrupted. He didn't really get all my hair and face stuff, and I couldn't understand why he didn't want to keep anything. Our phone bill was really high-no cell service in 1992. And the time zone was taking some getting used to. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">We had to find a grocery store, then make sure I could get there and back without getting lost. We had to learn how to take advantage of all the "base" things. The commissary, Laundromat, hair salon and medical services. We had to learn all the basics of living like grown ups. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The perks were incredible- movies and ice cream whenever we wanted- if we could afford it. No one telling me not to watch talk shows, soap operas or rented movies. No one to tell hubs he couldn't smoke, stay up all night, or go without a shirt. Yep. We were a little bit rebellious. But it only lasted a month, our rebellion. We had to save up for baby stuff. We were living in Washington State- a far cry from Ohio. I had no friends. I had zero family. I was alone a lot while hubs reported for duty. I cannot believe we survived.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The baby came- sweet thing. Mom was there for a week, then we were on our own.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">No one told me how long it took for the "baby delivery area" to heal. Yikes. No one ever said " hey your boobs are going to leak every time a baby cries so better get something to take care of that". Nope. No one ever said motherhood was glamorous, but they also didn't mention the countless nights awake, the contacts that didn't fit my eyes anymore or the fact that I was crying at the drop of a hat- literally because every single noise unnerved me and made me cry. I didn't get a warning about possible jaundice- he was. I didn't get a warning about gestational diabetes and the aftermath- I had it. No one told me this pregnancy and delivery were an all out war on my body and I had better get used to finding out things I didn't want to know afterwards. And the things I didn't want to see.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Skip to my poor hubs. He handled childbirth like a champ. Go figure. He was elated. He was helpful, supportive and all around an awesome guy. When I wasn't telling him what he did wrong or what he should have done instead. I give him full credit for not killing me in a moment of agony- I probably deserved to be locked into a well padded room for a few days. He just got up, went to work, came home. It was then I knew he was for sure a keeper. Anyone who could watch what he just watched and still want to "get jiggy with it" a few weeks later had to be worth something.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Starting out with all the crazy things we had to learn was such a lesson for me- prepare your children. Show them what to do and how to do it. I mean , seriously prepare them. Make a check list. Go over it thoroughly. Email to them. Text an update. Instagram a picture. Facebook it people. I am pretty sure there is nothing that can truly prepare us for marraige and living with the opposite sex in such a raw way. However, a few heads up wouldn't hurt, right? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">When our daughter Cinderella got married, she moved into a small apartment with her husband. It was such a sense of Deja'vu when I heard them arguing over couch space. I was cracking up. I knew after a while that she was doing good, because she thanked me for doing all the crazy things I did for her and her brothers when they were kids. Preparing them for adulthood seems like such a task, and I often feel like I have failed in many areas. But I did teach them to pick their battles carefully, because the person you fight with in the morning may have control over the hot water in the evening- or worse- the remote control.</span></div>
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Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-14600794411190696422015-03-26T09:40:00.002-04:002015-03-26T09:40:18.160-04:00Series: The Things No One Warned Me About: Take One<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">When our oldest son told us he was leaving
for Florida the day after his 18<sup>th</sup> birthday, I was stunned. The few
days I had to prepare myself were not at all enough. I soon found myself standing at the airport,
watching my baby walk through the security gate alone, and disappear around the
corner. My husband held my hand tight as
silent tears streamed down his face, and I sobbed and prayed all the way back
to the car. I couldn’t breathe, I couldn’t
think. I just couldn’t fix the ache in my heart that he left me. There was no
one to talk to about it, there was no one to comfort me. I felt so numb that my firstborn was just…gone.
He was gone. He left me, he left his dad, he left us all. He hadn’t even packed
up his entire room. He left almost everything behind. I think I went through the 12 stages of grief
in the following days.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Fast forward to the present day- two kids
married and out on their own. The one who left me has two children of his own.
Two kids still at home driving me nuts. Plans for all their bedrooms. I have a
notebook. With big plans. One day they will all be mine, and I will have a
pretty house with a guest room of my dreams, an office that is functional as
just an office, and enough book shelves to house all the books I have stored in
every odd place I can find. And maybe
even a room dedicated to baseball, if my husband wants a man cave, I can’t
argue that. As I make plans for this
space I keep going back to the one question from when my son broke his mothers
heart and flew off to a warmer place: Why on earth didn’t anyone ever warn me
about this part of my life? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Why? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">I left home right after graduation, and my
mother never said a word. She and dad paid for our wedding, shipped our stuff
little by little, and called every day. They came to visit us once on the other
side of the country, and they supported us unconditionally. When my brother got married and had a child,
they did the same for him, and I cannot for the life of me remember seeing or
hearing my mother hurt or upset about any of it. But she had to be! Right?! Aren’t
we moms all wired the same way? Didn’t God instill in us the mother hen
syndrome, the right to protect, teach and love unconditionally? I am so
flabbergasted about the deafening silence I faced my peers, and mostly my older
mentors, provided for me when I was going through all of this. Total deafening silence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";"> For
a while I thought I was over reacting, like I was mentally unstable and it was
a “me” problem, not a normal momma problem. I was bursting into tears when I saw
his jacket. I was bursting into tears when I saw his truck in the driveway. I
was freaking out into a sobbing mess when I realized I didn’t need 6 steaks, I
only needed 5, because my son was in Florida somewhere without me or his dad. I
actually called out his name one morning to get him out of bed before I left
for an appointment. Seriously. I almost had myself convinced to get medication
for my inability to control my emotion and be normal. Really. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">Then, like a giant epiphany that I had
been ignoring for a long time, I was sitting in my living room reading some of
the blogs I regularly visit, and it struck me- no one ever warned me about any
of this mess! Not any of it! The only
thing I ever was warned about had to do with infancy, and we are long past
those days. In fact, I would give my left arm and a days wages to go back there
some days. I couldn’t believe there was not one person who ever said anything
about anything that I needed to know. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">I tried to rationalize all of it away. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">I come from a pretty normal family, if
there is such a thing. I had amazing grandparents who for the most part
grandparented me. I had an upbringing with hundreds of people around me all
influencing me in my thoughts, actions, and beliefs. I belonged to a decent
size church, was friends with the pastors’ kids and spent time with my youth
group. I watched all those kids before me grow up, graduate high school, go on
to college or marriage or whatever they went on to. I never once saw one of
their parents grieving their loss, their decisions, and their lives. Maybe I
missed the signs, or maybe I was warned but just chose not to listen. I just do
not recall anyone ever reacting like this in this situation, come to think of it;
I do not recall seeing anyone ever react emotionally to any situation of change
with their children, parents, family members. Not ever. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">So then I ask the questions- is this
hidden reaction related to the bubble we all build around ourselves so that no
one else on the planet knows about our hurts, our fears or our real life
issues? Is this ultimate not sharing of “stuff” part of the big picture of
making sure everything looks like it’s all rosy and fun? Are we so worried
about what other people think that we are willing to risk not sharing our own
stories when we are hurting, when we are devastated by loss or when we are
getting a tough life education of our own? When Christ was hurting at the
temple, he made sure everyone knew he was angry, and why. If I am to be Christ
like, should I stay quiet about things I am experiencing, all the while knowing
that others behind me will experience the same craziness, and think they are
losing their mind as I thought? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">I think I will say no, and keep writing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS","sans-serif"; font-size: 12.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: "Trebuchet MS";">If you think this situation was heart
wrenching, and dear reader it was, then wait until I tell you about all the
other things no one ever thought to warn us about as young women. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-88504557730380789982015-03-25T09:50:00.000-04:002015-03-25T09:50:18.491-04:00Melancholy at Best...<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">As I spend time this morning reflecting on the day ahead, I keep going back to a few things on my mind. Lets just get them aired out.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am feeling a little melancholy. I was awakened to a spring thunderstorm this morning, which I was really pleased with. I used to think that was God talking to the flowers- "Wake Up" He says. Thunder has always been a great reminder of His presence for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Today would have been my sweet Grandama's birthday. #98. She was an amazing grandma, and provided me with an awesome dad. Our family hasn't been together since she passed last May. I figured when standing at her funeral that would be the last time we would all be together. Family just isn't important to some anymore. Makes me sad. Last week my dad had a slight issue and had to be hospitalized- harsh reality that I could only count on one Aunt to check in on him. There really was no family to call. It is somewhat frustrating to me that we are all too busy for one another, that we don't connect, that we don't send cards, have coffee or even facebook for the most part. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am also reflecting on all of the realities of being a momma. There was no milk this morning. No bread. However, there was a mess in the kitchen, laundry on the stairs and a big air of "mom you need to do this for me" when the teenagers left this morning. I work people. Maybe not full time, but some time. And I write. And although I love doing things for you, WALK YOUR CLOTHES UP THE STAIRS. CALL ME WHEN THE MILK IS GONE. Noone in this house has broken legs. Just broken brains. I am thinking of painting a nice, primative sign to hang in the diningroom. It will say "ATTN: we do not have a maid. Thank You". </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I have to be at work at 11, and yet I sit here thinking about Easter dinner, and how much work I have to do before then. It is now 9:38. Hmmm. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">My mind wanders to my friendships and how terrible it feels to walk away from them. I have a sense of guilt that I cannot shake, although I know this is the right decision. And I am worrying over a great time chasm that is growing in another friendship, because we are being pulled in two completely different directions. **SIGH** When I was in high school, I was relieved at graduation because I thought friendship got easier. WRONG.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">And is there something to cook with the roast I set out for dinner tonight? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I guess all the pressure of this week is building fast, and I am looking for a quiet spot to pray, meditate on the word, reflect on my grandma,(whom I miss dearly), and make a grocery list.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Not enough time in the day to ramble on, so I will leave you with this one thought:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Nothing is worth doing halfway. So get out there and do whatever you do at your fullest. No regrets. No turning back. No shame.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Write it, Work it, Speak it, Sing it. Do It.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Pray it.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;"><br /></span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8215820341498938445.post-6078126552032624262015-03-22T08:22:00.000-04:002015-03-22T08:22:05.937-04:00On the Subject of Being a Less Crappy Christian<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This morning as I lay in bed, my mind kept wandering to something Jen Hatmaker says in her book due out in August...She has an entire chapter dedicated to church people and how to treat one another</span>. <span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">It stuns me each time I open this book at how much her level of clarity hits me with each word. It has some super funny elements too, which I appreciate immensely, but I keep coming back to this one chapter, and it makes me think: How can I be a less crappy Christian woman? Is there a way for me to be above the influence of some of the crappy Christian <strike>women</strike> people in my life? How do I become a better example of Jesus, when I feel the hurt feelings, cranky looks and selfish comments that are rolling off the tongues of those whom I should be able to depend on most?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Its not easy being green, says Kermit the Frog. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Its not easy being a Christian woman either.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">First off, most of the major church decisions are made by men, who in my opinion are never going to understand a womans heart- not truly. A man is a wild beast, connecting with God through wild ways and as I often put it, outside, dirty and down to the core of manhood. Before you click off of here let me explain...men are wild at heart, wild at soul. They are reconnected through nature and creation and the circle of life and all those masculine things that men love, even if its a secret and no one knows it. My husband loves our couch- we like being potatoes sometimes, but given the opportunity he is hunting, hiking, camping, gardening. He likes the natural way of things. It reconnects him to creation and God and whats good and pure and holy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Women are emotionally bound creatures. We hurt more, we feel more, we love hard and we fall hard. We are more susceptible to other peoples situations and we are easier led astray (met Eve?) We aren't stupid- we want to see the best in people-God-snakes in a garden. We are harder on ourselves than others, we are harder on God than others and we are tempted as much as others. We sometimes are so much better in an intellectual arena that our men are lost. And sometimes we see things in the midst of situations that men do not see because that is how God created us- "The Helper".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">This is where I feel like things get sticky. Partly because I have a lot to say, and partly because I love this newfound realization that if I speak the truth, and people do not like it, I can stand on the truth for what it says. So here goes. Women have been speaking for, martyring themselves over and proclaiming Christ since his birth. His mother did it. His aunt did it. The woman at the well did it. Joyce Meyers does it. Jen Hatmaker does it. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">Mother Teresa, Women Of Faith, Proverbs 31 Ministries....I could go on all day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">The one thing all of these ladies have in common- Jesus and their profound love for Him. Everything comes back to Jesus for us, or it should. The money, the decisions, the curriculum's, the choices on how we handle infidelity, abuse, addiction, homelessness, hunger and brokenness. It all comes back to Jesus. As a child of God, how could I be expected to sit by and let the men in my life do everything, when I know I should be moving and shaking? I'm not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">What?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am not expected to sit back and let the men in my life, in my church, in my community do everything where anything is concerned. I work as hard as my husband. I love as fiercely. I cry when he cries, I laugh when he laughs, and I mourn when he mourns. I also pray with him, for him, around him ,without him. Without him? Yes, without him.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I am his helper, but I am also me. I have my own relationship with my savior that is seperate and above my relationship with my husband, or anyone else. I read His words, I serve Him. I pray to Him, I worship Him and I beg Him for forgiveness. I wake up in the morning and ask Him to make me better than I was yesterday. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I do not want to be a crappy Christian. I do not want to judge harshly, love with condition and walk away from someone because they make a mistake. I do not want people to be intimidated by me because they are afraid of what I might say or do or how I might react. I want people to be real with me, so I can be real with them. I want the people in my church to be less crappy.I want to know I have the opportunity for forgiveness and redemption, because that is what this walking with Christ is all about. I want to know if I do something stupid, its OK, because i am human, and we do screw up from time to time ( or a lot in my case) I want people to ask me about me, before making a judgement about me on the basis of a mistake or what someone else has to say. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Trebuchet MS, sans-serif;">I want to be less snarky and more sincere. I want to be genuine and free to praise, worship, lead, teach and love like Jesus did, because with Him, I got this. </span>Angelinahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/08861789590486945257noreply@blogger.com0