tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-32151596209487582052024-02-02T08:49:16.973-05:00Freely AdoptedLearning to live life as an adopted child of GodSatinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-50192708954785550642013-02-08T20:06:00.001-05:002013-02-08T20:39:27.102-05:00A Messy Sink...A Messy, Forgiven Life The last of the dishes had been rinsed and placed neatly into the dishwasher. The detergent had been added and the start button pressed. As I listened to the dishwasher sing out it's familiar hum; water sloshing about, I turned my attention to the sink. I have to admit, I was a little repulsed by the sight of half-chewed food pieces littered across the bottom of the sink, the moldy and now unrecognizable meal from two weeks ago (maybe more) that had mysteriously resurfaced at the front of my refrigerator, and the half-burnt remnants scraped off of the bottom of my favorite cast iron skillet. Pausing for a moment, I contemplated whether or not it was really a wise idea for me to stick my hands into the nasty conglomeration of what I felt sure was a bacteria infested mess. Thinking through the alternatives, I leaned over and grabbed a long plastic spoon reasoning it would do a more effective job at shoving the food remains down into the garbage disposal shoot than my delicate fingers would. Feeling quite satisfied with my brilliant idea, I proceeded to push the bits and pieces of <i>God knows what</i> into the narrow opening of the disposer. <br />
<br />
Resting the spoon on the edge of the sink for a moment, I reached over, flipped the "magic switch", and watched in wonder as the large chunks of nastiness slowly became pulverized and sucked deeply into the belly of the disposer. When I was quite satisfied that nothing remained of the bacteria ridden mess that had once covered the bottom of the sink, I flipped the "magic switch" back to the off position. Suddenly, I questioned, <span style="color: red;">"What happens to the pulverized muck once it is sucked downward into the pipes? Where does all of the garbage that once littered my sink end up?"</span> (Come on, I know that secretly, all of you have wondered the same thing...there is no shame in admitting it:))<br />
<br />
Suddenly, my attention was quickly arrested and refocused, bringing to mind the truth that, like the sink, I have a lot of trash and garbage in my life;<i> the truth that not of single one of us is capable of living up to God's perfect, just standards. Our lives are just plain messy, right?...littered with sin. </i><br />
<br />
<i>Scripture says: </i><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"> “</span><sup class="versenum"> </sup><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;">for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God” </span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"> (Rom. 3:23).</span></span> </div>
<br />
Staring at the now empty sink, still stained with the grotesque reminder of what was once there, I thought of another question; one of eternal significance: <br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i> </i></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i> "Where does all of the "garbage" or sin in <b>my</b> life end up?."</i></span> </span></div>
<br />
<i>Am I the only one who has ever wondered this? Am I the only one who has felt enslaved by the mounting measure of sin piling up, bringing with it haunting memories of regret and condemnation? I doubt it...</i><br />
<br />
<i> </i><i> </i>Grabbing the spray bottle filled with my favorite homemade antibacterial
cleaner (Grapefruit Seed Extract, vinegar, a few drops of tea tree oil,
and water), I intentionally sprayed a thick coating onto the bottom and
sides of the sink. Despite the fact
that I couldn't see any remaining germs or bacteria, I knew from
science class that microscopic and nasty germs were still there, no
matter how much I wanted to convince myself that they were not. Slowly
and methodically I scrubbed, making certain not to miss a single spot. As I watched the small steam of water from the faucet above slapping gently against the bottom of the now sparkly stainless steel sink, a gentle whisper swept past..a whisper filled with grace-filled words, lovingly surrounding me with hope and peace ...<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Mic-7-19"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: blue;"><span class="text Ps-103-12" id="en-ESV-15562">..."</span></span><b><span style="color: blue;"><span class="text Ps-103-12" id="en-ESV-15562">as far as the east is from the west,</span></span></b><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="indent-1-breaks"> </span><span class="text Ps-103-12"><u>so far</u> do<span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="color: blue;">I</span></span><span style="color: blue;"> remove your transgressions, child."... </span></span></span> </span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Mic-7-19"><span style="font-size: large;"> (ta<span style="font-size: large;">ken from </span>Psa<span style="font-size: large;">lm 103:12)</span></span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i>..."<span style="font-size: large;">I</span>f you confess y<span style="font-size: large;">our</span> sins, </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="color: blue;"> I am faithful and just to forgive <span style="font-size: large;">you</span></span> </i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">a</span>nd <span style="color: blue;"><b>cleanse you</b></span> from <span style="color: blue;"><b>all</b></span> unrighteousness"...</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i> <span style="font-size: large;">(taken from 1<span style="font-size: large;"> John 1:9)</span></span> </i></span></span></div>
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i>...</i></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="color: red;"></span><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="text Mic-7-19" id="en-ESV-22684">"I will again have <span style="color: blue;">compassion on you</span>, Satin;</span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Mic-7-19">I will <span style="color: blue;">tread your iniquities underfoot</span>.</span></span><br /><span class="indent-1"><span style="font-size: large;">and</span> cast all your<sup><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></sup>sins <span style="color: blue;"><span class="indent-1-breaks"><b><span style="font-size: large;">i</span></b></span></span><span class="text Mic-7-19"><span style="color: blue;"><b>nto the depths of the sea</b>."...</span></span></span></i></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Mic-7-19"> (<span style="font-size: large;">taken from </span>Mic<span style="font-size: large;">ah 7:19)</span> </span></span></i></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Mic-7-19"> ...</span></span></i></span></span></i><i><span style="color: blue;">"I will forgive you</span> for the wicked things you've done,<br /> and <span style="color: blue;">I will remember your sins no more.”</span>... </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i> <span style="font-size: large;"></span>(ta<span style="font-size: large;">ken from </span>Heb. 8:12)</i></span></span><br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i>..."</i></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span class="text Col-2-13" id="en-ESV-29491">And you, who were dead in your trespasses<span style="font-size: large;">...</span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span class="text Col-2-13" id="en-ESV-29491"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="color: blue;">I made alive</span>...having forgiven you <span style="color: blue;">all</span> your trespasses,</span> <span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><sup class="versenum"> </sup> </span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492">by canceling the record of debt that stood against you with its legal demands. This I set aside, <span style="color: blue;">nailing the<span style="font-size: large;">m</span> to the cross."...<span style="color: red;"> </span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: red;"> (<span style="font-size: large;">taken from Colossians 2:13-14)</span></span></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></i><span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">T<span style="font-size: small;">urning</span> off the faucet<span style="font-size: small;">, I watched the last few trickles of water sp<span style="font-size: small;">iral <span style="font-size: small;">d</span></span>own<span style="font-size: small;">,<span style="font-size: small;"> <span style="font-size: small;">gliding acr<span style="font-size: small;">oss the now clean surf<span style="font-size: small;">ace below..and <span style="font-size: small;">I<span style="font-size: small;"> smiled...</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">not bec<span style="font-size: small;">ause <span style="font-size: small;">my sink <span style="font-size: small;">was <span style="font-size: small;">finally free of the awful germ infestation that once h<span style="font-size: small;">ad the upper hand; </span>for<span style="font-size: small;"> I knew <span style="font-size: small;">that soon <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">ha<span style="font-size: small;">lf-eat<span style="font-size: small;">en particles o<span style="font-size: small;">f food, </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: black;">clumps of m<span style="font-size: small;">ystery </span>casserole from several week<span style="font-size: small;">s back, and burnt chunks <span style="font-size: small;">scraped off of my favorite skillet would</span></span> once again litter the bottom. <span style="font-size: small;">No<span style="font-size: small;">...<span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;">I smiled knowing with full assurance that all of the garbage (sin) of my life <span style="font-size: large;">h</span>as been <i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;"><b> </b></span></span></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;"><b> forgiven</b></span></span></i>, </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;"><b>forgotten</b></span></span></i>, </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <i> <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;"><b>thrown far away</b></span></span></i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: large;">;</span> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"> <i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;"><b>buried deeply </b></span></span></i></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: blue;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: red;"><b>into the depths of the sea</b></span></span></i></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;">. </span></span></span><span class="text Col-2-14" id="en-ESV-29492"><span style="color: blue;"> </span></span><i> </i><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Mic-7-19"></span></span></i></span></span></div>
<span style="color: red;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i><span class="indent-1"><span class="text Mic-7-19"> </span></span> </i> </span></span><br />
<span style="color: red;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, Geneva; font-size: x-small;"></span>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-45751391693325316162013-02-07T11:36:00.001-05:002013-02-09T07:35:50.445-05:00God's Amazing, Sustaining Grace <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With a slight chill in the morning air and the blanket of darkness beginning to be swallowed up by the light of day, I opened my eyes...<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">eager to see what this day might bring</span></span>. I sat up, swung my legs off the edge of the bed, and used my toes to feel around for the cozy Muk Luks that I knew must be within toe's reach. After slipping my feet into the warm woven slippers, slowly, I made my way to the living room (the hub of all activity in the Marshall home) to greet the children with their usual hugs, kisses, and breakfast orders. As I reached the living room, however, the vision of happy, smiling children ready to greet me with a kiss was quickly replaced with the reality of what really faced me on this morning...<i>scattered piles of unfolded laundry from the previous day, two sick children stretched out upon the couch burning hot with fever, toys covering most of the floor like a creeping fungus, and the repulsive smell of yesterday's garbage reeking from the nearby trash</i>. In an instant, <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;">the eagerness that I had felt just moments before was replaced by a feeling of dread of what the day would surely bring. </span></span> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Fighting the temptation to fall haphazardly upon the floor and weep bitterly, I sighed, rather ashamed by my approaching emotional meltdown. <span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: large;"><i>"How is it that my circumstances have such a powerful influence over my emotions?" </i> </span></span>With eyes tightly shut, I attempted to drown out the scene that had almost led to my emotional unraveling... </span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span></i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b> ..."My grace is sufficient for thee: for My strength is made perfect in weakness."</b> </span> </i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><i> </i><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;">Over and<span style="font-size: small;"> over ag<span style="font-size: small;">ain, I repeated<i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">it.</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"><i> </i><span style="font-size: small;">Then, <span style="font-size: small;">God so kindly brought still other verses to mind<span style="font-size: small;">... </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><b><i><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span></span></i></b><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> ...<span style="font-size: large;">"</span>But my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus," (Philippians 4:19)...</span></span></i></b></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><b><i><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS", sans-serif;"> </span></span></i><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;">...</span>"He has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows," (Isaiah 55:4).</span></i></span></b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"> As I slowly open<span style="font-size: small;">ed my eyes<span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">, <span style="font-size: small;">I could feel the</span> truth of God's words sinking deeply into my being. <span style="font-size: small;">Before me<span style="font-size: small;">, still sat the <span style="font-size: small;"><i>same piles of scattered laun</i><span style="font-size: small;"><i>dry, the same two fever stricken chi</i><span style="font-size: small;"><i>ldren, the s</i><span style="font-size: small;"><i>ame toys littering the floor, and the same</i><span style="font-size: small;"><i> repulsi</i><span style="font-size: small;"><i>ve smell of yesterday's garba</i><span style="font-size: small;"><i>ge</i>; yet, </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">at that moment<span style="color: #0b5394;">, <span style="font-size: large;"><i>His grace was visible to me.</i></span></span> <span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"> </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">And<span style="font-size: small;"> now, b</span>y <b><span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-size: large;">God's grace</span></span></b>, <span style="font-size: small;">I <span style="font-size: small;">no l<span style="font-size: small;">onger dread what this day will bring, but <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: small;">I now </span><b><i><span style="color: #f1c232;">eagerly await more and more of <span style="color: red;">HIS sustaining grace</span></span></i></b><span style="font-size: small;">. </span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Maybe right at this very <span style="font-size: small;">moment, you <span style="font-size: small;">are su<span style="font-size: small;">ffering <span style="font-size: small;">from a long-standing illness that leaves you feeling weak and in constant pain<span style="color: #0b5394; font-size: large;">...</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: #0b5394;">friend, God's grace is expedient enough to heal and prolonged enough to supply for each difficult day that you may face.</span></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">Maybe r<span style="font-size: small;">esources are sca<span style="font-size: small;">rce and yo<span style="font-size: small;">u <span style="font-size: small;">wonder how you can possibly <span style="font-size: small;">create a meal for your family out of the three remaining ingredients in your cupboard</span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><span style="color: #0b5394;">...friend, God's grace is bountiful enough to provide for you and your family.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-size: small;">What<span style="font-size: small;">ever <span style="font-size: small;">circumstance you may be facing this day...<b><span style="color: #f1c232;"><span style="font-size: large;">May you eagerly await more and more of <i><span style="color: #cc0000;">God's amazing, sustaining grace</span></i></span></span></b></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span></span><i><span style="color: #cc0000;"><span style="font-size: large;"><b>.</b></span></span></i><br />
<b><span style="color: red;"><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br /></span></i></span></b>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-66381105145809110022010-07-09T00:08:00.002-04:002010-07-09T00:27:58.047-04:00Humility of Helplessness<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">Since Sunday, Isaac has been lying in the same recliner, with the same fever, and the same fits of coughing which redden his face and leave him fighting to catch a breath. </span> </div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i style="color: #cc0000;">I feel helpless to help him.</i><span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span></span> </blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><blockquote><span style="color: black;">He reads the expression on my face...I read the expression on his.</span> <span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></blockquote></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">He feels helpless too.</span> </i> </span><i> </i></blockquote></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">Crying and scared, the girls call out to me from their beds. Through sounds of whimpering and sniffing they share, </span><i style="color: black;">"We can't sleep, Mommy. We are so afraid." </i><span style="color: black;">Patting their heads, I say a quick prayer and tell them that God is with them every moment; therefore, they don't need to be afraid. </span><i style="color: black;">"But, we keep having scary thoughts that won't go away." </i></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;"><i>I feel helpless to help them</i>.</span></span></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><blockquote><i style="color: black;">"What if we have bad dreams after we fall asleep?" </i><span style="color: #cc0000;"></span></blockquote></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><blockquote><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="color: #cc0000;">They feel helpless too.</span></i></span></blockquote></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Eyes red with fatigue and body sore with exhaustion, David exhales. I snuggle up next to him and wrap my arms around his chest. <i>"It's just been a crazy, busy week. Sometimes it just seems impossible to get everything at work done</i> <i>on time." </i> </div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">I feel helpless to help him. </span></span></i></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><blockquote><span style="color: black;">He kisses me softly on the forehead, sighing again.</span> </blockquote></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><blockquote><i><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">He feels helpless too.</span></span></i></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: black;">I pause, my head tucked neatly in my hands...thoughts aimlessly spinning and racing through my mind. Then, like a gentle rain, giving refreshment to the wilted flowers, I feel HIS words raining down upon me, giving refreshment and nourishment to my soul. </span></div><blockquote style="color: #6aa84f;"><div style="text-align: left;"><b><span class="740571619-08042000"><span class="content"><span class="content"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">"</span><span style="font-size: large;">My grace</span> is sufficient for you, for <span style="font-size: large;">my power</span> is made perfect in weakness."</i> (2 Corinthians 12:9)</span></span></span></span></b></div></blockquote><div style="color: black; text-align: left;">I slowly walk into the room where Isaac lies sleeping peacefully, free of coughing fits and gasping for air for a time. Feeling his forehead, I whisper softly, <span style="color: #6aa84f;"> </span></div><div style="color: black; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #e06666; text-align: left;"><b><span style="font-size: small;">"<i>HIS grace is sufficient for you too, Isaac. </i></span></b></div><div style="color: #e06666; text-align: right;"><b><i></i></b></div><div style="color: #e06666; text-align: right;"><b><i>HIS power is made perfect in your weakness."</i></b></div><div style="color: black; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; text-align: left;">I make my way to the girls room. Their pillows still damp with remnants of tears, their bodies curled up in little, tight balls; I cover them. Softly, I whisper, </div><div style="color: black; text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #e06666; text-align: left;"><b><i>"HIS grace is sufficient for you too, girls. </i></b></div><div style="color: #e06666; text-align: right;"><b><i></i></b></div><div style="color: #e06666; text-align: right;"><b><i>HIS power is made perfect in your weakness."</i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: black;">"I crawl into bed and turn towards David. In the quietness of the room, I hear him <span style="color: black;">breathing deeply, another days work has passed. </span> </span><span style="color: red;"><span style="color: black;">Another days problems have passed too. Reaching out, I gently touch his hand and whisper so<span style="color: black;">ftly</span>,</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: black;"> </span></div><div style="color: orange; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #e06666; text-align: left;"><b><i>"HIS grace is sufficient for you too, David. </i></b></div><div style="color: #e06666; text-align: right;"><b><i></i></b></div><div style="color: #e06666; text-align: right;"><b><i>HIS power is made perfect in your weakness."</i></b></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: black;">I roll over, close my eyes, and meditate on HIS words once more.... </span><b style="color: #6aa84f;"><span class="740571619-08042000"><span class="content"><span class="content"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: large;"> </span></i></span></span></span></span></b></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><b style="color: #6aa84f;"><span class="740571619-08042000"><span class="content"><span class="content"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">"</span><span style="font-size: large;">My grace</span> is sufficient for you, for <span style="font-size: large;">my power</span> is made perfect in weakness."</i></span></span></span></span></b></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;">One last thought comes to mind...<span style="color: #cc0000;"> </span></span></div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #cc0000;">Thank you, LORD, for my <span style="font-size: large;">helplessness!</span></span></span> <br />
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</div><div style="text-align: center;"></div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><i><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><b style="color: #444444;">"Only in the <span style="font-size: large;">humility of helplessness</span> will we discover the <span style="font-size: large;">sufficiency of His presence</span>.</b>"</span> </i><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">Charles Stanley</span></div></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"></div></div>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-33683254477550885842010-07-06T14:00:00.001-04:002010-07-06T14:04:21.883-04:00The Tooth Fairy Failure<div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We experienced a joyous moment in our home yesterday. Several weeks ago, Eliana noticed her tooth was slightly loose. Finally, after weeks and weeks of wiggling the tooth, it was loose enough to be pulled. I gingerly tied a string to it, and with a quick snap of my wrist, out it flew. Simple!</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Before bed, Eliana sat inspecting her tooth for quite awhile, then gently tucked it underneath of her pillow, hoping that by morning her tooth would be replaced with a wonderful surprise...a one dollar bill! After praying, I kissed her upon her forehead and watched as her hand slid up underneath of her pillow to touch the tooth one last time before she drifted off to sleep. </div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">When Ellie woke up this morning, she ran into the room where I stood,</span><i> <span style="color: #3d85c6;">"The tooth fairy forgot to come last night," </span></i> <span style="color: black;">she disappointingly said, as she held up the baggie containing her tooth for me to see. I felt terrible!</span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The truth is, my children have a horrible tooth fairy! I have thought many times that she should probably be fired. Here is a<i><b> partial list</b></i> of how the tooth fairy at our house has failed miserably at her job over the last several years:</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> 1. Often times she doesn't show up...too busy with other things I guess.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> 2. When she does show up, she makes such a racket that the children are roused to a semi-state of wakefulness, opening their eyes to look around as the tooth fairy tries to become statuesque in the dark so as not to be noticed. </div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> 3. A few times, she has even carelessly left the retrieved tooth lying upon the kitchen table, only to be found eventually by the children. </div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> 4. She often times has no money and has to "borrow" a buck from one of the children until pay day. </div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> 5. The tooth fairy is not always able to find the tooth, so she just leaves it there, along with the one dollar bill. (Imagine Isaac's confusion and surprise at finding both the tooth and the one dollar bill under his pillow.) </div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Yep! I think if I were my children, I would fire that awful tooth fairy! She may be great at other things, but obviously collecting teeth is not one of them. </div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">I apologized to Ellie for the tooth fairies negligence, hugged her, handed her fifty cents (which is all I could find), and reminded her of how much I love her. Ellie paused for a moment and then with words overflowing with grace she said,</span> <i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">"It's okay that YOU forgot mommy. I know you love me. And, this just means that I get to look at my tooth a little longer. Everybody forgets things." </span> </i></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i></i></div><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Even as I rewrite her words, tears begin to well up in my eyes. I am reminded of all of the times that I have been harsh with my children when they haven't performed to my standards, or when they are slow to understand what I am asking of them. And, yet Ellie's response was so different than mine. She was so</span> <b style="color: #bf9000;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">quick to forgive</span></i></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">, so</span> <b style="color: #bf9000;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">quick to overlook my faults</span></i></b><span style="color: black;">,</span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> and so</span> <span style="color: #bf9000; font-size: large;"> <b><i>quick to bring encouragement</i></b></span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <span style="color: black;">instead of criticism. </span></span><span style="color: black;"> </span><br />
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</div><span style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am certain that God was smiling down upon Ellie as she responded so graciously to the forgetful tooth fairy. After all, Ellie's response reflected the very heart of God towards us, HIS children. Psalm 145:8-9 gives us a small glimpse of the gracious heart which God has towards us. It brings me so much encouragement to read it...</span><br />
<blockquote><i><span style="color: #3d85c6;">"The<span style="color: #073763;"> <b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">LORD</span></b></span> is </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">gracious</span></b></span><span style="color: #3d85c6;">, and </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">full of compassion</span></b></span><span style="color: #3d85c6;">; </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">slow to anger</span></b></span><span style="color: #3d85c6;">, and </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">of great mercy</span></b></span><span style="color: #3d85c6;">. The <b>LORD</b> is </span><span style="font-size: x-large;"><b><span style="color: #3d85c6;">good to all</span></b></span><span style="color: #3d85c6;">: and his <b><span style="font-size: x-large;">tender mercies</span></b> are over all his works." </span></i></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">I am thankful that Ellie was so gracious towards the forgetful, unreliable tooth fairy; but most of all, I am so thankful for God's amazing grace towards me as HIS child. To end, I would love to share a quote from Charles Spurgeon about the amazing grace of God. I pray it will forever resonate within my heart, and within yours as well. </span> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><blockquote style="color: #bf9000; font-family: inherit;"><b><i><span class="arial14">"The <span style="font-size: large;">bridge of grace will bear your weight</span>, brother. Thousands of big sinners have gone across that bridge, yea, tens of thousands have gone over it. Some have been the chief of sinners and some have come at the very last of their days but <span style="font-size: large;">the arch has never yielded beneath their weight</span>. I will go with them trusting to the same support. <span style="font-size: large;">It will bear me over as it has for them</span>."</span></i></b></blockquote><i><br />
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<i> </i>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-80043874872154852532010-07-03T09:37:00.005-04:002010-07-05T14:46:22.775-04:00Bright, Green, Mysteriously Floating Balloon<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sQ_jT3QgJiaEM_Phpj0QyiHA89mjfEIYZoeamj33Y0I9Pm5j6yIztph84WuqYR-NnFKp3l0wIVnQFTj9eETz3eyR4wxck2ngi-mPbgc5RhbN8en4bYrKCnBe3cVfbAvmucKvXpj09lM/s1600/_DSC2294+copy.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8sQ_jT3QgJiaEM_Phpj0QyiHA89mjfEIYZoeamj33Y0I9Pm5j6yIztph84WuqYR-NnFKp3l0wIVnQFTj9eETz3eyR4wxck2ngi-mPbgc5RhbN8en4bYrKCnBe3cVfbAvmucKvXpj09lM/s400/_DSC2294+copy.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><span style="color: black;">Avidan's eyes lit up as the man handed him the <span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #6aa84f;">bright, green balloon</span></b>,</span> followed by the smile. He lifted his head back to look up at the green balloon which was brushing effortlessly across the ceiling. A look of amazement followed on Avi's face, </span><b style="color: #bf9000;">"<i>How is it possible that the balloon is staying up there and not falling back to the ground?</i>"</b><span style="color: black;"> I could almost hear him thinking it. Even at his young age, he knew that something extraordinary was happening</span>. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Never turning his gaze and attention away from the<span style="color: #6aa84f;"> <span style="font-size: large;"><b>bright, green balloon</b></span></span><span style="font-size: large;">,</span> Avidan gave a quick tug to the balloon's string. Immediately the balloon responded, darting towards him, but only for a moment, when at last it gently floated back up, nestling itself safely against the ceiling. Avidan's face, still reacting in amazement and awe.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><i style="color: #bf9000;">"Isn't that neat, Buddy? The balloon floats doesn't it?"</i></b><i><span style="color: #bf9000;"> </span><span style="color: black;"> </span></i><span style="color: black;">He glanced at me for a moment, shook his head with eager agreement, and then quickly turned his attention back to the <b><span style="color: #6aa84f;"><span style="font-size: large;">bright, green balloon</span></span></b> still swishing back and forth against the ceiling. With that, Avi again tugged at the balloon string to watch the bright, green balloon travel up and down in the space between himself and the ceiling.</span><i style="color: black;"> </i><span style="color: black;"> </span></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This went on for about an hour, over and over the same sequence of events. Avidan, tugging on the balloon string to force the<b><span style="color: #6aa84f;"> <span style="font-size: large;">bright, green balloon</span></span></b> to dart towards him as he yanked, and watching the balloon as it made it's journey back up to touch the ceiling. Every time, with a sweet look of amazement and awe written in his big, round eyes, raised eyebrows, and the sweet countenance of his wide-mouthed smile.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Later that evening, after tucking Avi into bed for the night, I walked over to the <span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #6aa84f;">bright, green balloon</span></b>.</span> Following Avi's example, I grabbed tightly to the string dangling beneath it. I then gave the balloon's string a quick, but firm tug, watched the balloon dart towards me for a moment, and then, watched as the <span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #6aa84f;">bright, green balloon</span></b></span> gently floated up to nestle itself safely against the ceiling. </div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I couldn't help but smile as I tilted my head back to look at the <span style="font-size: large;"><b><span style="color: #6aa84f;">bright, green balloon</span></b>.</span> And, I couldn't help but whisper...</div><blockquote style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><i><span style="font-size: x-large;">"<span style="color: #7f6000;">Lord</span>,</span> help me to forever remain <span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">amazed</span></span> </span>and in <span style="color: #7f6000; font-size: x-large;">awe</span> </i></b></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><blockquote style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><i>of <span style="font-size: x-large;"><span style="color: #7f6000;">YOU</span></span>,</i></b></blockquote><div style="text-align: center;"><blockquote style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><i>just as my sweet child has in this</i></b></blockquote></div><blockquote style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><i><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">bright, green, mysteriously floating balloon</span>."</span> </i></b></blockquote></div><br />
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</blockquote>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-24126804001800621972010-07-01T10:28:00.015-04:002010-07-01T13:26:56.763-04:00Don't Let Go of the Reigns<span style="color: #073763;"></span><br />
<div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As the horse keeper worked, saddling up the horses, attaching the bridles, and securing a bit into each horses mouth, he occasionally blurted out a short series of instructions to us. "<i>Stay on the path at all times."</i> His words seemed stern and cold. <i>"Keep a safe distance between your horse and the one in front of you." </i> But yet, his words carried with them a fatherly gentleness that was difficult to understand at the time.</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
After waiting anxiously for him to complete the task of preparing the horses to be ridden, the horse keeper helped me to mount up onto the horse that had been chosen for me. Looking me squarely in the eyes as he handed me the reigns, the keeper said,<b> <span style="color: #bf9000;">"</span><i style="color: #bf9000;">Whatever you do, don't let go of the reigns!"</i></b></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
Giving me a quick nod with his hat, he moved on to help my brother, Tom, mount upon the horse he would be riding. After getting my brother properly positioned into his saddle, the keeper once again echoed the words, <b style="color: #bf9000;">"<i>Whatever you do, don't let go of the reigns!" </i></b><br />
<b style="color: #bf9000;"><i></i></b></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
The horse keeper methodically continued down the line, helping each person waiting to mount upon a horse, always ending with the same stern phrase, <b><i style="color: #bf9000;">"Whatever you do, don't let go of the reigns!"</i></b></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
Walking to the front of the line, the horse keeper mounted his own horse, turned to look at us one last time, and then gave a quick kick to the horses side, signaling to the horse that it was time to move. In succession, each of the other riders did the same, until the horses were each moving steadily behind the horse in front of it.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Tom was directly in front of me, and I could see that his horse had a bit of a stubborn streak. Coupled with my brother's young age and lack of maturity and experience in horseback riding, the difficult to manage horse was proving to be quite a handful for Tom. Each time the horse tried to veer off of the path, he would simply try to "shout" it into submission. However, his shouts were falling onto deaf ears, because the horse didn't seem to notice or care what Tom was shouting. The horse just continued to do whatever it pleased, relishing in the new found freedom being granted by my poor, helpless, inexperienced brother.<br />
<br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am not really sure what happened next. I don't know if Tom just lost his concentration for a moment, or if the quick movement of the horse thrusting it's head down to eat some grass alongside the path was responsible, but the reigns dropped down off of the horses neck, falling near the mouth of the horse. My brother frantically tried to bend over to reach the reigns, but they were simply out reach of his short, childlike arms. As the horse started to move slowly to a new section of grass to eat, the reigns which should have been securely in my brother's hands, became caught under one of the horses hooves. Without any warning, the horse reared up onto it's back legs, gave a loud whinny, and set off fast as lightening with my brother holding on for dear life. Tom was crying out for help while trying to hold onto the mane of the horse to keep from falling off.<br />
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</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It only took the horse keeper a few seconds to recognize the commotion that was taking place behind him. He darted over, jumped off of his horse, and lunged at the flinging reigns. Immediately, after the reigns were securely in the keeper's hand, the horse quieted and seemed unafraid. He simply thrust his head back down to resume his eating as if nothing had ever happened. <br />
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</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The horse keeper looked at Tom, still sitting on top of his horse, obviously shaken by the events that had just occurred, and sternly said to him, <b><span style="color: #bf9000;">"</span><i style="color: #bf9000;">I thought I told you that whatever you do, don't let go of the reigns."</i></b><br />
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</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But in the words that followed, the sternness was replaced by a fatherly gentleness, <span style="color: #bf9000;">"</span><i style="color: #bf9000;">You could have been killed. I am so glad you are alright."</i><br />
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</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i></i></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">As I think back upon that day, watching my brother struggling to grab hold of the reigns of that wild horse, I am freshly reminded of <span style="font-size: large;"><b style="color: #0b5394;">God's care for us</b></span> as His children and <b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="font-size: large;">our daily need for Him</span></span></b><span style="color: #0b5394;"></span><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">.</span></b> </span><br />
<br />
</div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It was horrifying as a child to watch my brother clinging to that wild horse, starring at the reigns dangling on the ground beneath the horses hooves. I wish he would have listened, would have clung tightly to them. The horse keeper's words brought protection, wisdom, <b style="color: #bf9000;">"</b><i><b style="color: #bf9000;">Whatever you do, don't let go of the reigns!"</b> </i></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><br />
</i></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;">I am <b style="color: #bf9000;"><span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">encouraged</span></b>...</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I am <b><span style="color: #073763; font-size: large;">stirred</span></b>...</div><div style="text-align: left;"> I am <b><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #073763;">committed</span></span></b>...</div></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><blockquote><b style="color: #073763;"><i><span style="font-size: large;">"</span><span style="font-size: large;">Whatever I do,</span> <span style="font-size: large;">I</span> <span style="font-size: x-large;">will not</span> <span style="font-size: large;">let go of the reigns."</span></i></b></blockquote></div>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-48033532087066362482010-06-30T08:27:00.001-04:002010-06-30T08:30:14.109-04:00The Love Killer<span style="color: #0b5394;"></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"> Today, I am being prompted to grow in my marriage through</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><b>FIGHTING THE SELFISHNESS IN MY HEART BY FINDING CONTENTMENT IN CHRIST ALONE</b></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">It was one year ago when it happened. I had been anticipating it's arrival for weeks, maybe even months. Finally, when it arrived I couldn't wait to see what was in store for me..<span style="color: #0b5394;">.it was our anniversary</span> after-all, and David had known for several weeks about the weekend date I had arranged. I was certain that he would sweep me off of my feet once again and "romance" me like he used to in our earlier years. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">I dropped the children off at a friends house, drove back home, and then patiently (not-so patiently is more accurate) waited for David to come home from work. All the while, dreaming about what my wonderful husband must have planned to make our weekend together really special and memorable. Like a small child, anxiously awaiting the arrival of Christmas, I waited, looked at my watch, waited some more, looked out the window, and waited some more. Finally, I could see David's car heading towards our driveway. I jumped up from my seat and eagerly ran out to greet him. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">After giving David a little time to unwind after working all day, I asked, "<i>So, what are we going to do tonight?" </i>The response came as quite a shock to me, <i>"I don't know, what do you want to do?"</i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
<span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">I didn't even know what to say. I was so sure that David had planned a great weekend date for the two of us! So I inquired a little more, "<i>Are we going out to eat somewhere?"</i> Again, the response came as quite a shock, "<i>I don't know, I haven't really thought about it." </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">Immediately, I could feel the anger bubbling up inside of me...like a carbonated beverage that's been shaken up, just waiting for the lid to be loosened so that it can explode. That pretty well sums up how I felt right at that moment. I just couldn't believe that David hadn't planned anything for our anniversary, and I was going to make my feelings very clear. The cold shoulder always works well for that. </span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">Would you believe that I was so angry that I barely said a handful of words to my husband most of the weekend. He of course felt the tension between us, so he just kind of kept his distance from me, which only intensified the anger that I felt. "<i>He should be pursuing me and making me feel loved and appreciated! I mean, I went to all of the hard work of scheduling the date, the least he could do is plan something nice for us to do together!" </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">Thankfully, right before we went to pick up our children, we had a discussion, mutually pouring out our thoughts and disappointments with one another...and eventually confessing our sins, seeking forgiveness, and most of all, regretting our stupidity in wasting an entire weekend being rude and angry towards one another. <i> </i></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">I take full responsibility for our wonderfully anticipated weekend date ending up as a miserable and lonely "no-show" instead. I had been extremely <span style="color: #073763;">SELFISH</span>! I had placed several expectations upon David that were just outright unfair. </span></span><br />
<blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">In the moment,<b><span style="color: #0b5394;"> I felt that David had a responsibility to sweep me off of my feet...meanwhile my sin of selfishness was being deliberately swept under the rug by my pride.</span></b></span></span></div></blockquote><blockquote><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">To be really honest, I had lost sight of the fact that my <b><span style="color: #0b5394;">contentment must come from Christ alone</span></b>, and not from the actions of my husband. </span></span></span></span></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;">Looking back, I am amazed that I didn't even bother to consider the fact that I could have planned a wonderfully romantic weekend date for David. Hmmm, I wonder why that never crossed my mind? I will give you a clue. It begins with <span style="color: #0b5394;">MY SELF</span>. Yep, I was being selfish. <span style="color: #0b5394;">I wanted, what I wanted, when I wanted it<span style="color: black;"> because I had failed to remember that <b><span style="color: #0b5394;">only God can complete me</span></b>! </span></span></span></span><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;"> </span></b></span></span></div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="color: black;">My guess, is that you can relate in some way to this story; after all, we are more alike than different when it comes to our sins and struggles in life. </span>Maybe you just feel unappreciated and unloved by your husband and it is beginning to wear you down emotionally. You may wonder why your response really matters anyway. Well, I would appeal to you that your response does matter. The Bible has much to say on the topic of selfishness. Read the following verses, if you will. </span></span></div><blockquote><b><i>"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth." </i>1 Corinthians 13:4-6<i><br />
</i></b></blockquote><blockquote><b><i>"Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves." </i>Philippians 2:3</b></blockquote><blockquote><b> "<i>Who is wise and understanding among you? Let him show it by his good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom. But if you harbor bitter envy and selfish ambition in your hearts, do not boast about it or deny the truth. Such "wisdom" does not come down from heaven but is earthly, unspiritual, of the devil."</i> James 3-13-15</b></blockquote><blockquote><b><i>"For where you have envy and selfish ambition, there you find disorder and every evil practice. But the wisdom that comes from heaven is first of all pure; then peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere."</i> James 3:16-17</b></blockquote><div style="color: black;">Wow! I am so humbled. </div><div style="color: black;"><br />
</div><div style="color: black;">I remember hearing at a marriage conference several years ago that "<i>selfishness kills love". </i>Oh, how true and wise those words are, causing my heart to sting with regret and pain at my own selfishness within me. Sadly, I am certain that it is not the last time that my selfishness will rear it's ugly head in my marriage to David, because I am a sinner...and as long as I am on this earth, I always will be. </div><div style="color: black;"><br />
</div><span style="color: black;">But, I know that God's desire would be for me to seek to find my contentment in Christ alone, through learning to love HIM more. Only Jesus has the power to change my selfish heart and give me true contentment within my life and marriage.</span><br />
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<span style="color: black;">I would like to end with two quotes that really spoke to me this morning. I hope they will speak to you as well. </span> <br />
<div style="text-align: left;"><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: black;"></span></span><br />
<blockquote><b><span class="arial14"><i>"When I have learnt to love God better than my earthly dearest, I shall love my earthly dearest better than I do now."</i> C.S. Lewis</span></b></blockquote><blockquote><b><span class="arial14"><i>"You say, "If I had a little more, I should be very satisfied." You make a mistake. If you are not content with what you have, you would not be satisfied if it were doubled." </i> Charles Spurgeon</span></b></blockquote></div><div style="text-align: left;"></div>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-33203889319276684022010-06-29T07:00:00.013-04:002010-06-29T22:43:15.273-04:00Cultivating Tender Thoughts<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWf5K2yQWp8fjDXs-pvaFj5WG5GOToxIJu2iaU65uK8e4heLYXcq9bENTf2G_mJhWAC2tPB_GjKhViupyn4n-iKtPiPs6HXlsaenpnVrCuVsR4tmev0IlTOQm6sl_bmQHk5iKuWI_OzM/s1600/1-1203879082HMCp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="212" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKWf5K2yQWp8fjDXs-pvaFj5WG5GOToxIJu2iaU65uK8e4heLYXcq9bENTf2G_mJhWAC2tPB_GjKhViupyn4n-iKtPiPs6HXlsaenpnVrCuVsR4tmev0IlTOQm6sl_bmQHk5iKuWI_OzM/s320/1-1203879082HMCp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>Today, as I was folding my husband's clothing, I started thinking about how amazing it is that God has allowed David and I to share our lives together. In our 15 years of marriage, we have experienced great joys and bitter sorrows, pleasant memories and difficult trials, the birth of children and the loss of jobs. And, I wouldn't change a thing!<br />
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I am equally amazed that God chose a man like David, who is so patient and kind despite my crazy antics, strong opinions, and burning passions, which would drive most people crazy. He is unbelievably patient and kind even when I have refused to allow him to use the toilet, simply because I had just finished cleaning it and I didn't want it to get dirty again. Or, when out of the blue I have decided to boycott a company like Kelloggs because they are using genetically modified ingredients in the food they produce. My wonderful husband simply smiled and ate the organic, less-tasty cereal I purchased instead. I could learn a lot from David's example. <br />
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Recently, I read a book entitled, "<i>When Sinners Say I Do"</i>, by Dave Harvey. I would highly recommend it to married couples, couples who are engaged, and even to those who are single, but hope to marry in the future. It really drives home the fact that a marriage consists of two sinners, both in need of a Savior and that our husbands are hand-picked to bring out our sinful attitudes, behaviors, and thoughts as a way of sanctifying us...conforming us more and more to the image of Christ. This is certainly true in my marriage. God has used my marriage to David to make me more<span style="color: #45818e;"> <b style="color: #0b5394;">painfully aware of my sins</b></span>,and more<span style="color: #45818e;"> <b style="color: #0b5394;">humbly aware of my Savior</b></span><span style="color: #0b5394;">. </span><br />
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I found a wonderful quote by Elisabeth Elliot which stirs me as a wife to grow in grace towards my husband, and I hope it will stir you as well:<br />
<blockquote><i>"The consciousness that we are alike in our need of redemption is a liberating one. For there will be times when you find yourself accusing, criticizing, resenting...But you will find yourself disarmed utterly, and your accusing spirit transformed into loving forgiveness the moment you remember that<span style="color: #134f5c;"> </span><b style="color: #0b5394;">you did, in fact marry only a sinner</b>, and <b style="color: #0b5394;">so did he</b><span style="color: #134f5c;">. </span><b style="color: #0b5394;">It's grace you both need</b>...you love, accept, and forgive that sinner as you yourself expect to be loved, accepted, and forgiven. You know that 'all have sinned and come short of the glory of God,' and this includes your husband who comes short, also, of some of the glories you expected to find in him. Come to terms with this once and for all and then walk beside him as 'heirs together of the grace of life.'"</i></blockquote>As I thought about my marriage today, I realized that there are many areas in which God would desire for me to grow as a wife, as a way of bringing honor to David and glory to God. So, over the next several days, I would like to share a few of them with you.<br />
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My prayer is that each of you would meditate on these truths as well, and by doing so,<b> </b>that your<b style="color: #0b5394;"> faith would be strengthened</b>, that your<span style="color: #45818e;"> <b style="color: #0b5394;">love towards your husband would be rekindled</b></span>, and that ultimately <span style="color: #45818e;"><b><span style="color: #0b5394;">your</span> <span style="color: #0b5394;">marriage would be a beautiful reflection of "God's amazing grace</span></b><span style="color: black;">"</span></span>.<br />
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And, as always, I would love to hear about the changes that God is bringing about within your marriage or within your heart as a woman as you read, reflect, and apply His word. <br />
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<div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: center;">Today, I am being prompted by the Lord to grow in my marriage through,</div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: #0b5394; text-align: center;"><div style="color: #0b5394;"><b>CULTIVATING TENDER THOUGHTS TOWARDS MY HUSBAND.</b></div></div><div style="text-align: left;"> How? <b><span style="color: #134f5c;"> </span></b><br />
<b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="color: black;">1.</span> <span style="color: #0b5394;"> <span style="background-color: white;">By "taking captive" any critical thoughts I have towards my husband, and replacing them with true, noble, right, pure, lovely, and admirable thoughts towards him.</span></span></span></b><span style="background-color: white;"> </span> </div>One of the best ways I can think of to put this truth into action is by praying for David throughout the day. Thanking God for the hard-working, loving husband He has given me and by choosing to let go of the unrealistic exceptions that I unfairly place on him. Ahh, I am ashamed to admit that often times, I have placed selfish expectations upon David, simply because I am overly absorbed with my own desires, wants, and needs; stirring up selfishness and pride, and a whole host of other nasty things which I am not proud of. But as I try and look towards the needs of David first, willingly letting go of the unfair expectations I have placed upon him, and as I seek to grow in serving him instead of expecting to be served, my thoughts also become more tender towards David and more pleasing to the Lord. <br />
<blockquote><i>"Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is <span style="background-color: #eeeeee;"></span>pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable - if anything is excellent or praiseworthy - <span style="background-color: black;"></span>think about such things."</i> Philippians 4:8</blockquote><b><span style="color: #134f5c;"><span style="color: black;">2. <span style="background-color: white;"> </span></span><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #0b5394;">By remembering all of the things that attracted me to David when we were first married</span>.</span></span></b><br />
<div style="text-align: left;">As a wife and mom, there are so many thoughts that consume my days... <i>Where did the kids hide the bread I was planning to use for breakfast? Did the dog eat my "to do" list again this week? Does trying to walk through the house with a screaming child hanging from my leg count as exercise? </i> And these thoughts all occur within the first 10 minutes of jumping (or should I say crawling) out of bed. </div><div style="text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="text-align: left;">I find that at times I am so consumed by the other thoughts spinning around in my head, that I rarely take time to think of David throughout the day. The following quote from Shirley Rice is a wonderful reminder of the necessity of taking time to intentionally cultivate tender thoughts towards my husband. </div><blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><i>"By the grace of God, I want you to start changing your thought pattern. Tomorrow morning, get your eyes off the toaster or the baby bottles long enough to look at him. Don't you see the way his coat fits his shoulders? Look at his hands. Do you remember when just to Look at his strong hands made your heart life. Well, LOOK at him and remember. Then, loose your tongue and tell him you love him." </i></div></blockquote>I am so encouraged! Today, I am going to spend time praying for David, asking God to help me find ways of serving him, and intentionally taking the time to remember all of the things that I love so dearly about the amazing man God gave me.<br />
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I hope that you are encouraged as well, to cultivate loving tender thoughts towards your husband, ask God to rid your mind of any critical thoughts you may have against him, and pray that God would enable you to sincerely give thanks for the wonderful and precious gift HE has given you.<br />
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Oh, and don't forget to greet your hubby when he walks through the door by wrapping your arms lovingly around him, kissing him on the lips (even if the children are around), and telling him how much you love and appreciate him.<br />
<br />
<blockquote></blockquote>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-77314257065993304362010-06-28T00:08:00.001-04:002010-06-28T23:59:48.574-04:00The Mountainside ExperienceThe coolness of the evening breeze could be felt as Isaac and I walked, both of us enjoying our special time together. Looking out over the sea of people and campsites surrounding us, I listened as Isaac talked about the great time he was having at the <i>Creation Festival</i>. It was our last night before returning home, so I was hoping to make it a really special evening for my son. Little did I know that God had a wonderful teaching moment in store for the two of us. <br />
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High upon the mountainside was an overlook, revealing the the beautiful valley below. I knew Isaac would love it, so I grabbed his tiny hand and slowly led the way to the base of the trail, walking along side of him. We hadn't walked very far when it occurred to me that it was begging to get dark and we had no flashlight. So, I picked up the pace in hopes of making it to the top and back down before the trail was lost in the darkness. But Isaac's little 4 year old legs just could not keep up with the quick pace I had set. Frequently, we had to stop to give his legs time to rest and recuperate before attempting to climb higher up the trail. <br />
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About half-way up the mountainside, the path was no longer visible to our eyes. Darkness had set in, leaving only an occasional flickering of lights from the movement of other people's flashlights way up in the distance. Although I didn't want to show it, I was scared. We could not see anything surrounding us at all! It was pitch black.<br />
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I was so afraid that I would lead my child to the cliffs' edge without even realizing it, or that Isaac would stumble on the rocky path in front of him, leaving him injured. <i>"Ahhh! What was I thinking by bringing my young son up a mountain without a flashlight to lead us?"</i><br />
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I stopped moving and stood almost paralyzed on the mountainside, silently praying for help. I could sense that Isaac was becoming afraid as well. I squeezed his hand a little tighter, pulled him a little closer toward my body, and assured him that everything was going to be alright. I am not quite sure how long the two of us were standing upon that dark mountainside alone, but it seemed like forever. <br />
<i></i><br />
Then out of the blue, two girls walked up behind us and noticed us standing there. Without asking any questions, one of them walked over next to me and handed me her flashlight. In that instant, a peace swept over me. Shining the light in front of us, I was overwhelmed with thankfulness for God's protection over us.<br />
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The path could clearly be seen now, exposing the unsteady ground, the cliffs, and the other dangers that seemed to lurk in the darkness. I once again grabbed Isaac's hand and we slowly, but confidently made our way to the overlook at the top of the mountainside. We stood for several moments on the platform admiring the beauty of the scene playing out below us as several hundreds of thousands of candles were being lit, followed by a chorus of voices, singing their praises to God. It was a sight to behold. <br />
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On the walk back down the steep incline, with flashlight in hand, we had a wonderful conversation about how our experience of trying to walk up the steep incline of the mountainside without a flashlight, is very much like trying to live our lives in spiritual darkness without Christ. It was very frightening not to have any light marking the path as we walked up the steep rocky path. In the same way, without Jesus we are simply wandering around in the darkness, uncertain of what is ahead in our lives.<br />
<blockquote><i>"I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness."</i> John 12:46</blockquote><blockquote><i>"The name of the LORD is a strong tower: the righteous run to it, and are safe."</i> Proverbs 18:10</blockquote>We then thought about all of the obstacles that we had to overcome to make it to the top of the mountain, such as the rocks and unlevel ground and the cliffs sitting upon the trails shoulder. The flashlight clearly lit up the path in front of us; therefore, we didn't need to fear the things meant to cause us to stumble, for they were exposed by the light and could be avoided.<br />
<blockquote><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVXwS8uXK2e0rFr9_HUf0Sc2KnSgWZUwFFWobi-XcFeywHJ8xdYEV2BrgT1cnKgaZ4p1yxOcQ1NDOpwJloc-pa7IUmnE4urAhaKB-D2Jvbuavg2jCKWRUZCRaRYQFcVYVAcicigccRRnE/s1600/33-1232659027iDxr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVXwS8uXK2e0rFr9_HUf0Sc2KnSgWZUwFFWobi-XcFeywHJ8xdYEV2BrgT1cnKgaZ4p1yxOcQ1NDOpwJloc-pa7IUmnE4urAhaKB-D2Jvbuavg2jCKWRUZCRaRYQFcVYVAcicigccRRnE/s320/33-1232659027iDxr.jpg" /></a><i>"Though I walk in the midst of trouble, you preserve my life; you stretch out your hand against the wrath of my enemies, and your right hand delivers me." </i> Psalm 138:7</blockquote> And, we talked about how the flashlight is like the Bible, providing us with direction and wisdom. Without the flashlight, we could have easily made a life-threatening step. So it is without the Bible. <br />
<blockquote> <i>"Thy word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path. Psalm 119:105</i></blockquote> Although I wouldn't wish to repeat our journey up the steep mountain without a light directing us, I am thankful that God choose to use my foolishness in forgetting my flashlight to once again lovingly remind me and my precious son of our need for Him, in every circumstance, every day, at every moment in of our lives.Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-48960515433763769202010-06-27T00:52:00.002-04:002010-06-27T00:57:21.883-04:00Cream-e-sew-er-y...Go Ahead and Laugh, It's Good For You<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As I was driving to my mom's house for a visit, I could hear the girls carrying on a lively conversation in the backseat of the van. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>Have you ever has the opportunity to listen to 7 and 8 year old giggly girls carrying on a conversation?</i> It is<b> </b>very entertaining! </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">They fluttered from one topic to the next every few minutes; one minute talking about serious matters the next just being silly. But no matter which topic they were discussing, it was obvious that they were genuinely enjoying each others company, which blessed me. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">We had made it to about the half-way point on our trip, when we passed a <b>cemetery.</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Ellie immediately noticed it and shouted out to Amaris, <i>"AMARIS LOOK! IT'S A <b>SEWER</b>!"</i> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Then, very calmly and confidently Amaris offered her correction, <i>"That is not a <b>sewer</b>, Ellie. A <b>sewer</b> is for pee</i><i> and poo, but that place is for dead people. It is a <b>creamery</b>."</i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
I could hardy contain myself. It was so funny, I almost <b>peed </b>my pants. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Well, if I have a choice of being buried at the <b>sewer</b> or at the <b>creamery</b>, I think I will choose the second option...I know my spirit will be in heaven so it shouldn't really matter, but I am only thinking of all of you. I mean, it would sure <b>stink</b> for you to have to visit me at the <b>sewer</b>. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Have a wonderful Sunday and remember to laugh a little today!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><blockquote><b><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"A joyful heart is good medicine,</span></i> <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>but a crushed spirit dries up the bones." </i> Proverbs 17:22</span></b></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
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</div>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-79891713930905904242010-06-26T07:00:00.011-04:002010-06-26T08:42:50.206-04:00Thank You Lord<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi21TU5rBc7aUSDGy3TNm61-9KR_ffl4gARZn5Yu6q_OppRBnfg3JfgbNklvPpvPT9iJlLRaAKpgF9v2dWZkZ6X96NCui6I1AO8EeNlih6Sl5oqXHR0Su5WzMJk7jt7l71DppU-fb994g/s1600/757-1232906419B2Gp.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi21TU5rBc7aUSDGy3TNm61-9KR_ffl4gARZn5Yu6q_OppRBnfg3JfgbNklvPpvPT9iJlLRaAKpgF9v2dWZkZ6X96NCui6I1AO8EeNlih6Sl5oqXHR0Su5WzMJk7jt7l71DppU-fb994g/s320/757-1232906419B2Gp.jpg" width="320" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">Crusty layers of spaghetti sauce cover Avidan's body, </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">with a sigh and a wet washcloth in hand, </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">I gently scrub my little boy hoping that eventually, he won't be tinted red. <b> </b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b> I AM TIRED</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">The dishes in the sink are overflowing, remnants of the morning's breakfast offering a discouraging reminder that I had forgotten to run the dishwasher, </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">and now have double the work to do after the children are in bed. <b> </b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b>I HAVE A HEADACHE</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">Clothing sits piled high upon my couch, </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">waiting to be sorted, folded, and packed for camp. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">I haven't even completed half of the packing list yet. <b> </b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #45818e;">I WISH I WERE GOING ON VACATION TOO</span></b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">On the table is my checkbook. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">The one I haven't balanced in several months. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><span style="color: #45818e;">I FEEL LIKE WATCHING TV</span></b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">Weeds have taken over my garden and are beginning to suffocate my plants. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">The beauty of our landscaping is quickly becoming an eyesore. </div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b>I WOULD LOVE A MASSAGE</b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b> </b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">My Bible, sits undisturbed on the coffee table<b>. </b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b> </b>My mind fights the desire to pick it up. </div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i>"I have too much to do already, I can't take time to read right now."</i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">I break down, tears flowing from my eyes.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">Weeping, I cry out...</div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i>"I can't do it all, I am exhausted."</i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">A still small voice responds...</div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i>"You are right, Satin. </i></b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i>You can't do it all. </i></b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i>You need a Savior.</i></b></div><div style="color: #134f5c; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><i><b>My grace is sufficient for you, </b></i></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><i><b><span style="color: #134f5c;">for my power is made perfect in weakness.</span>"</b></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
I pause for a moment in silence, reflecting. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">I slowly walk over, pick up my Bible and open it.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">Under my breath I whisper...<b> </b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b style="color: #45818e;">HELP ME, LORD.</b> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">As I read the words on the page in front of me, </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">I break down again.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">This time with laughter,</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">rejoicing in God's gentle reminder to me, </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">a sinner with a wonderful Savior.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: black; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i>"...I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, </i></b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #134f5c;">so that Christ's power may rest on me.</span> </i></b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i>... I delight in weaknesses, </i></b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i>in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. </i></b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b><i><span style="color: #134f5c;">For when I am weak, then I am strong.</span>"</i></b></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;">2 Corinthians 12:9-10</div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><br />
Humbly, I bow my head and close my eyes,</span></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;">uttering the only words that seem appropriate...</span></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"><i style="color: #45818e;">"Thank you, Lord."</i></span></div><div style="color: #45818e; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><span style="color: black;"> </span> </div>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-17670935376117659502010-06-25T07:00:00.022-04:002010-07-05T07:21:32.649-04:00Postpartum Depression: My Journey<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">Shortly after the birth of Eliana,</span><b style="color: black;"> </b><span style="color: black;">sadness</span><span style="color: black;"> monopolized my days and guilt pressed down heavily upon me even as I slept. Fear sat at my doorstep waiting for an opportunity to attack my weakening frame; my mind eventually surrendering out of sheer exhaustion. Daily, I grew more and more fragile and afraid. My battle to survive was being fought in silence and shame.</span><b><b><i><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: #0b5394;"> </span></i></b><span style="color: #0b5394;"><span style="color: #6aa84f;">Postpartum depression</span> </span></b><span style="color: black;">had arrived uninvited, stripping me of months of joy. Months that, even today seem dark and painful to recall.</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"> <b><i> </i></b></div><div style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><b><i>Do not fear, </i></b></div><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i></i></b><br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"> <b></b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">As Eliana lay peacefully in my arms, my mind was tormented by thoughts, awful thoughts and accompanying pictures that I couldn't shake away. </span><span style="color: #0b5394;"> </span><b style="color: #6aa84f;">I, was having thoughts of cutting myself, slitting my wrists, with no one there to rescue me. </b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #bf9000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i style="color: #7f6000;"><b>for I am with you;</b></i><span style="color: #7f6000;"> </span><b> </b> </div><br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">In desperation, I remember turning on the TV, trying to replace the agonizing pictures so vividly playing out in my mind. But every image on the screen only served as a reminder of the razor sitting in the shower, waiting for me and quietly whispering my name. At times, I would catch myself holding the razor in my hand, paralyzed for a few moments until I could force my fingers to release their grip.</span> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><b><i>Do not anxiously look about you,</i></b><i><b></b></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><b> </b></i> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">Even when I would tightly close my eyes and cover my tear-drenched face with my hands, the thoughts remained. When my children would jump into my lap, throwing their loving arms around my neck, the thoughts continued to pull me far from their embrace. The thoughts which I battled daily left me feeling hopeless, the anxiety left me struggling to breathe. Being alone with my children caused unbridled fear,</span> <i style="color: #6aa84f;">"What if I harm them?"</i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><b>For I am your God.</b></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i style="color: black;"><b> </b></i><span style="color: black;">At night, I would silently cry myself to sleep, often times too weak to even utter a prayer for help. One night, I remember trying to write down several Bible verses, so desirous of encouragement and hope. My mind and body were so weakened by the thoughts tormenting me day and night, all I could do was crumple up the paper filled with life-giving words and hold it tightly in my hands throughout the night. Many a night I held that crumpled piece of paper...occasionally crying out, </span><i style="color: #6aa84f;">"Help me, please help me, Lord!"</i><span style="color: #0b5394;"> </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><b>I will strengthen you,</b></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">Finally, my "secret" was too much to bear alone. So reluctantly, I told David and a few of my closest friends, but still the battle within my mind continued to rage on...until I could admit that I needed help to get well.</span> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><b>surely I will help you,</b></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
<div style="color: black;">Walking into the emergency room was the scariest thing I have ever done. With irrational thoughts spinning round my head, palms sweating, heart pounding, my body shaking under the stress and fear of the unknown...yet, God was with me! His presence was so clearly felt next to me as I sat in that cold, sterile bed in the ER. He gave me hope...He reminded me that everything was going to be alright.</div></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </div><div style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><b>surely I will uphold you </b></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><b><br />
</b></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: black;">The truth is, God was with me all along. In the midst of every sleepless night,</span> <span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b>HE WAS THERE</b></span><span style="color: #38761d;">.</span> <span style="color: black;">While battling every thought of hurting myself, </span><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b>HE WAS THERE</b>.</span> <span style="color: black;"> In the midst of every anxiety attack,<span style="color: #38761d;"> </span></span><span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b>HE WAS THERE</b>,</span> <span style="color: black;">upholding me with His righteous right hand. </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><b>with My righteous right hand.</b></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A<span style="color: black;">nd, God is with you too, no matter what you are battling. He may not immediately remove the trial you are facing, but He is faithful to remain an "ever present help in trouble." Whether it be postpartum depression like me, or the loss of a loved one, or the uncertainty of your future, you are not alone</span><b><span style="color: black;">;</span><span style="font-size: large;"><span style="color: #bf9000;"><span style="color: black;"> </span><span style="color: #38761d;">HE IS THERE!</span></span></span></b> <span style="color: black;">Trust Him to help you, to strengthen you, to place within you a living hope anchoring you to Jesus Christ.</span> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"><i><b>Isaiah 41:10</b></i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: right;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
<span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b>HE IS THERE</b>,</span> <span style="color: black;">right there next to you. So close that maybe you can feel the warmth of his breath on your shoulder.</span> <span style="color: #38761d; font-size: large;"><b>HE IS THERE</b>,</span> <span style="color: black;">ready to uphold you with His righteous right hand. </span></div><blockquote style="color: #7f6000; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"Cast your burden on the <span class="small-caps">Lord</span>, and he will sustain you;<br />
he will never permit <span class="indent"></span></i><i>the righteous to be moved." </i> Psalm 55:12</blockquote><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-7680170420120406022010-06-24T07:00:00.003-04:002010-06-24T07:00:05.211-04:00Colorful Candy Confetti<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The sound of giggling from behind the closed bedroom door was a<b> dead give-away</b>...the girls (Amaris, Eliana, and their cousin Maggie) were up to something. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"Girls</i>", I called, <i>"Is everything alright in there?"</i> My words brought with them a quiet hush to the laughter. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Finally, one of the girls bravely responded to my inquiry,<i> "Yes mommy, everything is fine. We are just having a party." </i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">At that moment I should have swung the door wide open to expose the intent of the girls, but instead I decided to walk away for a few moments to complete a few chores. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Again, the laughter was heard. This time louder, along with a few high-pitched squeals and some strange sound that I could not easily identify. Standing with my ear to the door, I listened, intently trying to figure out what the odd sound coming from behind the bedroom door was. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Without warning, I swung open the bedroom door. The girls turned quickly, facing me like a deer caught in the headlights, wide-eyed and shocked to see me standing there. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Sternly I asked, <b><i>"WHAT ARE YOU GIRLS UP TO?"</i></b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"We are having a party, mom!"</i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Two empty bottles lay empty on the floor next to the girls. I walked over, picked up the empty containers to see for myself what this threesome had been up to. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"SPRINKLES! GIRLS, WHAT HAPPENED TO THE SPRINKLES?" </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"We used them. Sprinkles make nice confetti." </i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">For the first time since entering the room, I allowed my eyes to scan the perimeter. Nearly every flat surface in the bedroom was covered with brightly colored candy sprinkles. Upon closer inspection, I realized that sprinkles were even scattered throughout the freshly made beds. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I WAS NOT HAPPY!</div><br />
"GIRLS, YOU KNOW BETTER THAN TO THROW CANDY ALL OVER YOUR ROOM!"<br />
<br />
Silence was the only reply...<br />
<br />
"THE THREE OF YOU WILL PICK UP EVERY BIT OF THIS MESS, RIGHT NOW! DO YOU UNDERSTAND?"<br />
<br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am not sure I even gave them a chance to respond. I walked out of the room, angrily told David what had transpired, and proceeded to collect brooms and dustpans for the three little "party-goers" to clean-up with.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As the girls swept, shook out the sheets, and wiped down the dresser, I sat observing the threesome for a few moments. The laughter which once filled the room was a distant memory, the smiles had been replaced with a countenance of sadness and shame, and the party which had once rained down <b>"colorful candy confetti"</b> had ended abruptly. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><i><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am such a party-pooper!</b></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> </i> I mean, was there really any harm in celebrating with "candy confetti"? Of course not! But, I didn't want to clean-up after the party had ended and the threesome had zonked out for the night. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The bottom line...I was angry that the girls had "inconvenienced" <b>ME</b>, disrupted <b>MY</b> peaceful afternoon, and used <b>ALL</b> of <b>MY</b> sprinkles...I mean I use them like once a year for cupcakes, now what would I use? </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Isn't it true that as Christians, we can be tempted to allow our circumstances to rob us of our joy in the LORD? At times, it seems that the mundane tasks of life overwhelm us as Christians, causing us to grumble and complain rather than rejoicing in the fact that we are <b>SAVED BY GRACE</b>. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But, God's desire for us would be that we would overflow with joy, rooted in the knowledge that as Christians we have been <b>forgiven</b> of our sins, <b>accepted</b> into Christ's family, and we have been<b> given</b> eternal life. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Maybe you dislike your job, and it takes every bit of energy you can muster in the morning to even get out of bed. Maybe you have a child who is difficult to manage and feel defeated before you even say hello in the morning. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">God desires to fill you with un-speakable joy in the midst of the circumstances which you find yourself. Not just an outward, pretend kind of happiness, but an internal joy...giving you hope and assurance for what ever your future holds and producing perseverance . </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<blockquote><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds,for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing." </i> James 1:2-4</span></blockquote><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Today, I was thinking back to the afternoon when the girls threw the "colorful candy confetti" all over the bedroom. I remember the countenances of the threesome changing, smiles turning to frowns, shoulders slumping under the weight of disappointment, and the boisterous giggling that once echoed throughout the house ceasing to echo anymore. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">May we be different as Christians...</span><br />
<br />
<blockquote><i><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">May we look towards Christ in the midst of our trials... finding joy! May the rooms of our heart always be filled with "colorful candy confetti" raining down, bringing laughter and smiles from deep within us.</span></b></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span></blockquote><div style="text-align: left;"><blockquote></blockquote></div>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-8950014861505473762010-06-23T07:00:00.003-04:002010-06-25T19:49:12.555-04:00Attentive Ears<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">This morning, I had a conversation with my daughter, Amaris. Well actually, she did all of the talking, I just listened. Ummm...maybe I wasn't quite listening either. The truth is, I was feeling mentally exhausted and felt entitled to "check out" for a few moments. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As Amaris spoke, I recall gently smiling, giving an occasional shake of my head in agreement with whatever she was saying, and every now and then I would utter a few random phrases such as <i>"Really"</i>, <i>"Uh, Huh"</i>, or "<i>That's great, Amaris"</i>, so I "appeared" engaged and interested in what she was saying. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">After several minutes, it seemed that Amaris became fully aware of my "fake listening" when she stopped, sighed, and with disappointment in her voice stated,<i> "You are not even listening, Mommy"</i>. Initially, I tried to console her..<i>."Oh honey, of course I was listening"</i>. Come on...Are you kidding?...I knew full well that I wasn't listening! Sadly, Amaris' words had fallen on deaf ears.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Not only was I too selfishness and prideful to admit that I wasn't really listening to a word she was saying; I also showed a complete lack of love and respect for my daughter. In that moment, my actions spoke volumes to her...<i> </i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><i style="font-family: "Helvetica Neue",Arial,Helvetica,sans-serif;">"Mommy cares more about herself than she does about anyone else, including me.</i>" </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: left;">And, do you know what? She's right! </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am so grieved to have treated my precious daughter whom I love so deeply in such a rude manner. I mean, I personally know how it feels to try and have a conversation with someone who you know is not really paying attention to you as you speak...it feels simply awful! </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">You know how it feels too...</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b>I am </b><b>so thankful that God is not like me! </b></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"And this is the confidence which we have in him, that if we ask anything according to his will<b> he hears us</b></i><i>. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have obtained the requests made of him."</i> 1 John 5:14-15</blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"The Lord <b>has heard</b> my supplication, The Lord <b>receives</b> my prayer."</i> Psalm 6:9 </blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"The eyes of the Lord are toward the righteous And His <b> ears are open</b> to their cry."</i> Psalm 34:15</blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"The Lord is near to all who call upon Him, To all who call upon Him in truth. He will fulfill the desire of those who fear Him; He will also<b> hear their cry</b> and will save them." </i>Psalm 145:18-19</blockquote><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It is so humbling to think that there has </span><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">never been </b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">a word spoken which has escaped God's ears. And in our lifetimes, He </span><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">will never</b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> ignore a single prayer uttered, a single word whispered, a single praise shouted, or a single burden cried-out by us, His children.</span> <br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Reading the scriptures above all should stir <b>our hearts</b>...it should stir<b> my heart</b>, to talk to God with more and more fervency and devotion. After all,</span><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> we are His children and He delights in hearing the sound of our voices, because He loves us! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> </span>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-50659867095337839692010-06-22T14:38:00.004-04:002010-06-25T19:48:32.385-04:00Feast like a Flamingo<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I woke up this morning thinking about flamingos. (I have no idea why flamingos would come to mind at 6:30 in the morning...my mind just works in mysterious ways, I guess.) </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYXbgnWXVp2czJ4elHDOGeop5n4bttXD6ESFCy8N28rbaxr0cbZDtzCDefg7HvcayngQLrJJ0L-awwLMni3LayIudLcb9qja1umtDRVQB7awagxyDxNbp3eyVrLSdoAtDApTd7dMA3sm0/s1600/1-1275897675Dsss.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYXbgnWXVp2czJ4elHDOGeop5n4bttXD6ESFCy8N28rbaxr0cbZDtzCDefg7HvcayngQLrJJ0L-awwLMni3LayIudLcb9qja1umtDRVQB7awagxyDxNbp3eyVrLSdoAtDApTd7dMA3sm0/s320/1-1275897675Dsss.jpg" /></a>Aren't flamingos beautiful creatures? Did you know that the female only lays and cares for one egg at a time. And unlike most birds, which regurgitate food in order to feed their offspring, both male and female flamingos actually secrete a milk-like substance that provides the young bird with the proper nourishment until it's beak has fully developed, at which point it can begin to search for food independently. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Isn't it equally amazing that a flamingo can stand so still and lifeless on one leg while the other leg is tucked neatly underneath it during periods of sleep or rest? And, a flamingo has the ability to fly up to 35 miles per hour. Crazy!! Can you imagine flying with such an awkwardly long neck sticking out in front of you and two long spindly legs trailing behind? If I were a flamingo, I think I would be tempted to keep both legs safely on the ground!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Then, there is the unique way in which a flamingo eats. I mean, have you ever thought about the fact that a flamingo eats with it's head positioned upside-down and backwards? Yup! Watch next time you see one. A feasting flamingo appears to be standing on it's head! Quite funny, actually! The flamingo takes water, mud, and food from shallow shorelines while "standing on it's head", gently it rocks it's head in a back and forth motion to filter out all of the "yucky" stuff, and sucks the nutrients down with it's vacuum like tongue. Simply incredible!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But, in my opinion, the most amazing characteristic of a flamingo, is that a flamingo's diet is responsible for the beautiful pinkish salmon color of it's feathers. If foods rich in carntenoid pigments (like the pigments of carrots) are eaten regularly, the flamingo's feathers become more vibrant and colorfully pinkish. On the other hand, the fewer the carntenoid rich foods being eaten on a regular basis, the paler the coloring of the feathers, often times resulting in birds that appear virtually "colorless". This "lack of coloring" is often an indication that the flamingo is a very sick or malnourished bird. Only God can create such an incredible characteristic! Simply amazing!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It may appear that as humans, we share no commonalities with this unique bird. However, I think that as Christians we are quite similar to the flamingo. I mean think about it... </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As Christians, we require a steady diet of God's word to remain healthy and well-nourished spiritually. Without spending time in the Bible, we begin to become almost colorless...our consciences may become dull, our ability to hear from the Lord decreases, and we begin to hunger and thirst for things that may cause further weakening to our already sick bodies. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">But, what makes the Bible so special? </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I mean, how does the Word of God really keep us healthy spiritually? </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">How does a steady diet rich in God's Word provide Christians with the nourishment needed to stay vibrant and colorful throughout our lives? </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am glad you asked! :) </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b></b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>1. A steady diet rich in God's Word protects us from sin:</b></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i> "I have hidden your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you." </i> Psalm 119:11</blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>2. A steady diet rich in God's word equips us for every good work:</b></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> <i>"All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work."</i></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>3. A steady diet rich in God's word encourages us with the truth:</b></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"For whatever was written in earlier times was written for our instruction, so that through perseverance and the encouragement of the Scriptures we might have hope."</i> Romans 15:4</blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>4. A steady diet rich in God's word provides wisdom in daily life:</b><b> </b></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b> </b><i> "Your commandments make me wiser than my enemies,</i><br />
<i> For they are ever mine. <br />
I have more insight than all my teachers,<br />
For Your testimonies are my meditation. <br />
I understand more than the aged,<br />
Because I have observed Your precepts."</i> Psalm 119:98-100</blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>5.</b> <b>A steady diet rich in God's word reminds us of Good News of Jesus Christ:</b></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him." II Corinthians 5:21</blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="arial14"></span></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="arial14"></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="arial14"></span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="arial14"> A flamingo needs to eat foods rich in carntenoids to produce bright and beautiful salmon colored feathers. Without it, the feathers will turn nearly "colorless".</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="arial14">As Christians, we need a steady diet rich in God's Word to produce a strong and enduring faith in Christ...</span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="arial14"> <i> I guess we are not so different from the flamingo after all.</i> </span></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span class="arial14"><b style="color: #e06666;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">My prayer is that everyone reading will begin to hunger and thirst for righteousness, through feasting upon the Word of God...and like the flamingo, that all of us would would be visibly changed as a result. </span></b></span></div><blockquote><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i><span class="arial14">"Now what is food for the inner man? Not prayer, but the Word of God; and here again, not the simple reading of the Word of God, so that it only passes through our minds, just as water passes through a pipe, but considering what we read, pondering it over and applying it to our hearts."</span> </i></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">George Mueller</span></blockquote><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-71004213522061508352010-06-21T07:12:00.003-04:002010-06-25T19:49:56.782-04:00The Placental Brain Moment<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I can't believe that I am about to do this....really, I must be insane! I am going to tell you about my most embarrassing moment. Well...one of them. And the funny thing is, no one was even around to witness my most embarrassing moment, except me and God. But trust me, two witnesses were quite enough...I might have been lobbying to move to a new town where <b>NO ONE</b> knew me if anyone else had seen. I am quite certain that God still affectionately laughs at "<b><i>His silly little girl</i></b>" when He recalls what I like to call my "<b><i>placental brain moment</i></b>" <i>(yes, I was pregnant.)</i>. Hormones....what can I say?</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">It was a very hot summery afternoon. I was in the kitchen, oven turned on, stove blasting, making a meal for a family in our church who had just had a baby. Did I mention that it was very <b>HOT</b>? After the meal was nearly completed, I decided that since my clothing was drenched from sweating my guts out, that it would probably be a wise idea to shower before delivering the meal. So, I showered, dried my hair, and rushed to the kitchen to wrap the meal up and double check my list to make sure that I wasn't forgetting <b>anything</b>. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">When I looked at the clock, I realized that I was running late. With a quick sigh and quite possibly another pause to wipe off the new sweat that was forming on my forehead, I grabbed the meal and out the door I went. I jumped into the car, put on my seat belt, turned the car on, took one more glance at the food sitting in the passenger seat next to me <i>(which I was feeling quite proud of, BTW)</i>, and drove off. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">About a mile down the road, <b>something dawned on me...</b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I had forgotten to put on pants! <i>(Go back to paragraph 2...showered, dried hair, rushed to wrap up meal...notice no mention of the words "put on pants"?) </i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I was on my way to deliver a meal to friends from the church... in just my <b>UNDERWEAR</b>! </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I <b>slammed</b> on the breaks, <b>shuttered</b> at the thought of what may have happened had I not actually noticed until I arrived at the family's house that I was just wearing my gutchies, and <b>quickly</b> turned back around to "<i>complete</i>" my wardrobe.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Alright, <b>please stop laughing</b> at me now...I can almost feel the earth shake from all of the laughter at my expense. Just please remember that I am <b>trying to be humble</b> here.</div><br />
<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">So, you may be thinking, <i> </i></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>What could Satin's experience of nearly delivering a meal without pants on possibly teach me?"</i></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">I am so glad you asked! I will sum it up in one sentence for you...</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><b style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Make it <i>your passion</i> to care about <i>what God thinks</i> about you <i>according to His word</i>, not what you or others think.</b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">..</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>So, now I have a challenge for you.</b> </span><br />
<blockquote><b><i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue;">I would like for you to spend this week searching scripture and meditating on it, to see how God feels about about you as His child. Then, if you are wiling, post a comment or send me an email sharing what He has taught you. </span> </span></i></b></blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b><i><span style="color: blue;">Also feel free to share a most embarrassing moment...trust me, it will keep you humble. </span></i></b></span></blockquote>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-28084844804995062382010-06-20T20:58:00.001-04:002010-06-20T21:00:36.383-04:00In Need of Being RescuedDazed and confused, the little bird sat on our gravel driveway. Chirping helplessly, it cried out for help, desiring safety from the cruel fate that it must have known awaited it if it were to linger in the open space on the gravel too long ...the jaws of our cat, Toby. Near the tiny feathered creature, was another baby bird, this one having already lost it's fight to remain alive. Compassionately, Amaris expressed that she felt it was her duty to protect this little helpless baby bird from our cat or some other danger that awaited it. After pleading her case, I gave a simple "yes" nod of my head in the direction of my daughter.<br />
<br />
Slowly bending down over the birds shivering little frame, Amaris lovingly scooped it up, pulled it gently against her chest, and carried it safely towards the aquarium underneath the awning of our porch. The second she picked it up, the bird chirped even more wildly, more loudly. Perhaps the other birds were watching what was happening too, for in an instant, the forest seemed to erupt with an outcry of screeching and chirping. Several birds began to swoop near to Amaris' head, wildly flapping their wings, showing their claws as they flew by. I wonder if one of them was the baby bird's momma.<br />
<br />
This poor little helpless bird had no idea that it's life was being saved from the jaws of the cat. It was fearful of the very one who was trying to save it's life. The other birds too had no idea that Amaris was a friend, full of compassion towards this little creature, but rather they were afraid that she was planning to harm it. And interestingly, the other birds were helpless on their own strength or faculties to protect this little baby from being harmed. The other squealed and squalled, but the truth is, the baby was still on the gravel, in the wide-open driveway, all alone...and they were unable to save it. <br />
<br />
In watching this scene play out, I was freshly reminded as a Christian of my own salvation through Jesus Christ. At one time, I was like that little helpless baby bird...afraid, alone, maybe at the time not even realizing the extremity of the danger that I was in. But God, in His great mercy, rescued me. No one else could have saved me...not my parents, or friends, or even my pastor. I couldn't be saved from my sin as a result of attending church, completing a confirmation class, or by being born in a Christian family. No! Only Jesus could save me. Prior to experiencing the full unmerited favor of Jesus Christ, I spent as much time as that little bird, chirping wildly, fully unaware of my need for salvation. <br />
<br />
<br />
What about you? Are you like the little bird, out it in wide-open gravel driveway, in need of being rescued? Or the parent of an unsaved child, wildly chirping, swooping down to show your claws as you fly by, thinking that if you do or say the right things, that maybe your child might be saved? Moms, Dads...your best efforts can not save your child or offer to them the forgiveness of sins. Only the blood of Jesus Christ can do that! <br />
<br />
Be encouraged, because God delights in saving sinners.<br />
<br />
<blockquote><i>"<span class="verse-num" id="v49002008-1"></span>For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, <span class="verse-num" id="v49002009-1"></span>not a result of works, so that no one may boast." </i> Ephesians 2:8-9 </blockquote>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-40097697373606436352010-06-19T15:54:00.017-04:002010-06-25T19:47:30.541-04:00Just Enjoy the Ride<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyR7tKpfUVbfmCgvXoC0u9eFzc63rtoXa_YrLfIZ-SV_YiFyeph2_gBAPmIqpKdxfxxOdxumMtdUkHJ-ZcF1lFtbMVJgXdq0tYTblPlwu3FBCGOYHhtH24hiPmH5ctDYXqykmabUfzko/s1600/1453-12520572333yrH.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMyR7tKpfUVbfmCgvXoC0u9eFzc63rtoXa_YrLfIZ-SV_YiFyeph2_gBAPmIqpKdxfxxOdxumMtdUkHJ-ZcF1lFtbMVJgXdq0tYTblPlwu3FBCGOYHhtH24hiPmH5ctDYXqykmabUfzko/s400/1453-12520572333yrH.jpg" width="281" /></a></div>The directions seemed so simple and clear when my mom first spoke them. I had planned to go to the mall for awhile, but the main road in her town was closed, which necessitated taking an alternate route. <i>"You just go up to the top of the hill. When you see the corn fields, take a right. Go down the road about a mile to the bottom of the hill and take another right. That will take you to I-80. After getting onto I-80 East, take the 3rd exit. You can't miss it!" </i><br />
<br />
I could feel the anxiety rising up within me. I am horrible at following directions, no matter how simple they are. I can get myself lost on a straightaway...NO KIDDING! I have even been known to get lost while using the GPS unit. My husband, David seems to have an internal compass or something....I sure don't. Unless it is one of those cheap compasses like you get in the McDonald's Happy Meals that just spin and spin and spin, never really pointing to true north. <br />
<br />
I straightened my frame, took a deep breath, and whispered to myself, <i>"This time is going to be different. I am not going to get lost. Only three turns are required the whole way there. Surely, I can handle that." </i>I quickly corralled the children into the van and set off on what was to be a quick trip to the mall. <br />
<br />
As I neared the top of the hill, I started to feel a little nervous, questions now flooding my mind. "<i>Did she say to take the first right, once I see the corn fields, or the second one? Or did she say the first road past the corn fields? </i>I slowed down the vehicle to try and make a quick decision. <i>"Think Satin, think!" </i>After arguing with myself over which option seemed the most logical, I opted for the first road past the corn fields...BZZZZ, WRONG ANSWER! Only I didn't realize that I had taken the wrong road until I had driven confidently along for about 4 miles.<br />
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Humbly, I turned the van around and back-tracked to the first road. <i>"Okay, see this isn't so bad...you did it, Satin."</i> I really felt I was on the road to success, until I went about a mile down the hill and saw a road leading to the left and a road leading to the right. Contemplating...desperately gnawing at my already non-existent fingernails, I tried to once again recall the directions my mom had given me, to no avail. Doubts filled my mind. <i>"Should I stop and ask someone for help???...there is no one, silly, unless you are going to go over and ask that cow!" </i>So, onward I drove...<br />
<br />
Well, to make a long story short and to spare you of all the boring details, I will just tell you that I did end up making it to the mall...and it only took me 6 wrong turns and about 30 minutes more than what it should've taken. And, I made it back to my mom 's house too...and I only made 3 wrong turns on the way back and beat my original time by 5 minutes! You have to celebrate the small successes in life you know.<br />
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Sitting in the car thinking...since I had so much time to think. I realized something quite interesting. As I was driving, I was worried. Would I end up driving into some deep abyss somewhere never to return again (not really, but it sounds dramatic). But, I was concerned about being lost. However, sitting in the back of the van were my three younger children, laughing, chatting...just enjoying the ride. They were not the least bit concerned about our impending peril, as I was. They were just trusting that we were going to make it to the mall and back.<br />
<br />
As adults, it seems that we worry and fret about our every decision, struggling, wondering if God will really<br />
show us which decision we should make and questioning all the while. Can anyone reading relate? The Bible contains many verses which would encourage us not to worry in the midst of making hard decisions, but rather that we should pray to God for wisdom and TRUST HIM for the outcome.<br />
<blockquote>James 1:5 says <i>"If any of you lacks wisdom, let Him <b>ask God</b>, who gives <b>generously</b> to all without reproach, and it <b>will</b> be given to him." </i></blockquote>Wow, isn't that such an encouragement? Why do we question every detail, working ourselves into a tale spin when a difficult decision comes up, when God promises to give us wisdom generously if we just ask Him.<br />
<br />
Maybe you are contemplating a career change. Maybe you are trying to decide if you should pursue an adoption. Possibly you are questioning who you should marry. Or maybe you are trying to decide whether to vaccinate your children or not...I don't know. I do know, that whatever decision you face, God desires to give you all the wisdom in making it. Just pray to God, ask Him for wisdom, seek wise counsel through Godly friends and the Bible, and trust God for the outcome.<br />
<br />
Thinking back on my adventure driving to the mall this morning, one thought comes to mind. On the road of life, I just desire to sit back like my children, laughing, chatting, and enjoying the ride...trusting God to get me where He wants me to be.Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-43856972593340960812010-06-18T09:58:00.004-04:002010-06-25T19:46:18.075-04:00Mud Puddles and Our Greatest Need<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Bu8mmJ-NlLk1MPmZ0JIQFVPczU1ipOIKC64rcloCAqSK6Pfxysm8zs7LMMFYZTb687L73APRZiVgyO6Cu4r7pDQTdVhTc4KsD8uGG7vHKGKt_vMgKNh8nb354ynbmEArD0BVRa3A5a8/s1600/_DSC2047.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0Bu8mmJ-NlLk1MPmZ0JIQFVPczU1ipOIKC64rcloCAqSK6Pfxysm8zs7LMMFYZTb687L73APRZiVgyO6Cu4r7pDQTdVhTc4KsD8uGG7vHKGKt_vMgKNh8nb354ynbmEArD0BVRa3A5a8/s320/_DSC2047.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">While on a short walk one afternoon, Avidan noticed a mud puddle in our driveway. He pointed in the direction of the puddle and uttered, <i>"Go, go!"</i> I was curious how he would react if I allowed him to walk up to the edge of the puddle, so I motioned for him to go ahead. As he inched nearer to the murky water, I could see the corners of his mouth rising, smiling at this new found freedom. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEM6qVNf7_MxZb6bKOAC09jziPdL238STWBe0NzsaQgrr-DRc_pj5YMahYNCwroRusviUORME1dOqB6YXUHlqNNmcCVr_w6DQLY5qWOp3uKt9HWD3K4RkbhGOuDVkMqbtulhKxccOadc/s1600/_DSC2052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Cautiously and Curiously, he knelt down to view his reflection in the brown, murky water in front of him. Moments of gazing passed. An idea had started to form. Carefully, so as not to disturb the calmness of the water, he gently placed the tip of one solitary finger into the puddle, and waited. The response of the water to his touch was very slight, barely a ripple was seen. Another thought formed in his mind. With the same finger, Avidan began to gently stir the surface of the water, circling in large deliberate strokes over and over across the cool dirty water in front of him. Ripples and waves began to form, making their way to the edge of the puddle, seeking solace once again. </span> </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEM6qVNf7_MxZb6bKOAC09jziPdL238STWBe0NzsaQgrr-DRc_pj5YMahYNCwroRusviUORME1dOqB6YXUHlqNNmcCVr_w6DQLY5qWOp3uKt9HWD3K4RkbhGOuDVkMqbtulhKxccOadc/s1600/_DSC2052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEM6qVNf7_MxZb6bKOAC09jziPdL238STWBe0NzsaQgrr-DRc_pj5YMahYNCwroRusviUORME1dOqB6YXUHlqNNmcCVr_w6DQLY5qWOp3uKt9HWD3K4RkbhGOuDVkMqbtulhKxccOadc/s320/_DSC2052.jpg" width="211" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinEM6qVNf7_MxZb6bKOAC09jziPdL238STWBe0NzsaQgrr-DRc_pj5YMahYNCwroRusviUORME1dOqB6YXUHlqNNmcCVr_w6DQLY5qWOp3uKt9HWD3K4RkbhGOuDVkMqbtulhKxccOadc/s1600/_DSC2052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Eventually, the novelty of the redundant stirring soon wore off. Next, Avidan flatted out his hand and stretched</span> <span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">out his fingers; looking down to make sure that none were touching. He quickly looked back at me, as if looking for an expression of approval and then, once again turned his attention to the mud puddle. Excitedly, he began slapping the surface of the puddle, violently sending water and mud flying, releasing laughter which had too long been pinned up inside him. </span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjI5MjHjV0lZ9HvIw1Kcg_EqAmcezZSkBedwc-13OQIRv_0nei7Hmyqh0_YfW6wrYGaZT-BOKPtIw8iR4zaCXdappV1I0Xsn4hyphenhyphenafwOeqwnK26QgSHohb6LnNQnMvTmWrkCJFtif4tDUg/s1600/mud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><br />
</a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Instantly, it was as if all self-control had vanished. Standing up, Avidan ran through the puddle, squealing with delight as he felt the cool water slapping against his legs. Occasionally, he paused to sit at the edge of the of the puddle, throwing clumps of mud at the reflection of himself that initially was calm and lifeless. </span> </div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjI5MjHjV0lZ9HvIw1Kcg_EqAmcezZSkBedwc-13OQIRv_0nei7Hmyqh0_YfW6wrYGaZT-BOKPtIw8iR4zaCXdappV1I0Xsn4hyphenhyphenafwOeqwnK26QgSHohb6LnNQnMvTmWrkCJFtif4tDUg/s1600/mud.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjI5MjHjV0lZ9HvIw1Kcg_EqAmcezZSkBedwc-13OQIRv_0nei7Hmyqh0_YfW6wrYGaZT-BOKPtIw8iR4zaCXdappV1I0Xsn4hyphenhyphenafwOeqwnK26QgSHohb6LnNQnMvTmWrkCJFtif4tDUg/s320/mud.jpg" width="212" /></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; font-size: small;">Finally, without considering the outcome, Avidan grabbed a clump of mud, looked at it for a moment, and then without a second thought, he foolishly placed the clump into his wide-opened mouth.</span> </div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtTrMiqXXhGTNdO2iQxd0dLcFPhX3gOxPwnTDygcaMb1fFd0fN-xlEKLsmusB3QjzevhhSBTWPmkp0W8Hu6uPwWlTcFjvH_h7TgFiB6btMyhH8zxO5UVuThd4GxPPaVzb-FbeGk270Sfc/s1600/_DSC2059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Thinking back, I realize that I am not all that much different than my son. Like him, I at times am foolish, not giving much thought to my ways until I have a mouth full of mud and regret. Sadly, when I am confronted with temptations, I don't always flee from them as I should, but rather sit by the puddles edge, gaze at my reflection and stir the murky water with my finger. What about you? Do you give yourself permission to willingly flirt with certain temptations rather than fleeing from them. You know the old saying? <i>"If you stand too close to a mud puddle, eventually you are going to get wet and muddy."</i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A friend calls...laughter, joking, and sharing eventually ripple into to small comments that seem to be turning into gossip...The comments, seemingly innocent at first, now carry with them the pangs of regret, because in the end; you had as much gossip to contribute to the conversation.</div></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">A child waits patiently to be served lunch...at fist. Eventually, your smiling, happy child melts into another creature it seems, crying, kicking, shouting, and hanging onto your leg. <i>"How am I expected to get lunch on the table when I am dragging a screaming child across the kitchen,"</i> you think to yourself, all the while feeling anger welling-up deep in the bosom of your chest. You feel the weight of your response bearing down upon you, telling you to leave the room and seek a few moments of solitude to pray for strength and wisdom. But, lunch still needs to be served, so you press on, stirring, cutting, and muttering to yourself. Sweat begins to pour off of your brow, emotional and physical exhaustion weakening your resolve to stay calm. In an instant, you lash out, your words cutting through your child's hearts like a knife...your heart hurts too, you know that the hurtful words you had spoken can never be taken back. </div></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><br />
<blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The TV is blasting with another hockey game, your husband sitting comfortably in the easy chair, seemingly oblivious to the house falling apart around him. You look around...baskets of clothing over-flowing onto the floor, dishes becoming crusty in the sink, children in need of some soap and water "therapy"...deep inside you start to notice thoughts of self-pity taking shape...<i>"He doesn't even care about me!"</i> You go and sit down in the chair next to him, but rather than cultivating loving thoughts towards your spouse you allow the unbridled thoughts in your mind to continue. <i>"All he seems to care about are his dumb sports. Doesn't he realize how hard I work all day? I shouldn't have to do all of this work by myself."</i> Later that evening, you can barely look at him, feeling only coldness and bitterness.</div></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Every one of us has foolishly played too close to the puddle at one point or another. Maybe more often than we even realize. My intention in writing this is not to in any way to make you feel condemned, but rather to encourage you with the truth that we are all helplessly unable to change on our own. You may be thinking, <i>"And this is suppose to be good new?"</i> Actually, it is very "good news"! God sent His son into the world to save sinners; to rescue us from our sins. We just don't have the power and strength within us to resist the temptations of this world...without the help of a Savior. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtTrMiqXXhGTNdO2iQxd0dLcFPhX3gOxPwnTDygcaMb1fFd0fN-xlEKLsmusB3QjzevhhSBTWPmkp0W8Hu6uPwWlTcFjvH_h7TgFiB6btMyhH8zxO5UVuThd4GxPPaVzb-FbeGk270Sfc/s1600/_DSC2059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtTrMiqXXhGTNdO2iQxd0dLcFPhX3gOxPwnTDygcaMb1fFd0fN-xlEKLsmusB3QjzevhhSBTWPmkp0W8Hu6uPwWlTcFjvH_h7TgFiB6btMyhH8zxO5UVuThd4GxPPaVzb-FbeGk270Sfc/s400/_DSC2059.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Avidan's tongue and body, now coated with a gritty layer of thick mud, needed to be rescued...so I gently picked him up, stripped him of all of his clothing, and placed him into the tub. Slowly with soap and wash cloth in hand, I began to scrub his little body, washing the crusty mess of mud from his body. I was glad to see my squeaky clean little boy again. But more importantly, as the filthy water spiraled down the tub's drain, I couldn't help but think, <i>"I am so glad I have a Savior who washes me clean with the blood of the guiltless lamb.</i></div><blockquote><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"><i><b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">"See how red </span><span class="GramE" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">is your guilt</span></b><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><b>, mark the scarlet stain. It you were to wash your soul in the Atlantic Ocean, you might incarnadine every wave that washes all its shores, and yet the crimson spots of your transgression would still remain. But plunge into the “fountain filled with blood, drawn from Immanuel’s veins,” and in an instant you are whiter than snow. Every speck, spot, and stain of sin is gone, and gone forever." </b> </span></i><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Charles Spurgeon</span><o:p></o:p></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
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</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"></div>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-9105820943531652422010-06-17T12:28:00.003-04:002010-06-23T22:53:52.972-04:00Treasures in the Sand<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yMMVlBRYJBco1o6yFDT0Nn8KqXZSRfOm8IjC0gv0nRDOiJgL2h-177xjtESrHXPv3b32uHDFkvtMW7yXL5p2fBePpZODXaJOpXjxRmrN1jXnHqetYgOBlHqipTOhDMAhFe0SqsNbpVI/s1600/beach.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7yMMVlBRYJBco1o6yFDT0Nn8KqXZSRfOm8IjC0gv0nRDOiJgL2h-177xjtESrHXPv3b32uHDFkvtMW7yXL5p2fBePpZODXaJOpXjxRmrN1jXnHqetYgOBlHqipTOhDMAhFe0SqsNbpVI/s400/beach.jpg" width="266" /></a></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The quiet breeze blew gently, softly mingling with the light of the sun, rays reflected hues of gold and bronze on their long locks. Little giggles echoed as they walked and talked...sharing...dreaming of what they might find on their big adventure.<br />
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Pails in hand, eagerly they skipped across the moist sand, only pausing on occasion to look with wonder at the wide expanse surrounding them, stopping to smell the fresh salty air, or pausing to sink their toes into the wet gooey sand beneath their feet. As one would find a possible treasure nestled safely in the sand, an urgent call was made to the other to come, quickly, so as not to miss the joy of seeing the treasure before them. Together as sisters, as companions, they bent down to inspect each shell, slowly picking them up to place them gently into one of the pails. <br />
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As the sun marked the hours passing in the sky, the pails began to fill up with beautiful remnants, most of which had been washed in from the powerful sea. You could almost feel them holding their breath, hearts beating, standing in awe of the wonderful sites before them. Some of the treasures were broken, scattered across the sand, but valuable to the girls nonetheless. Others were still perfectly formed, but still showed the ware and tear of the strong waves which had beaten up against them. Still others shells contained living creatures such as a hermit crab or whelk. Lovingly, the girls would pick them up and toss them back into the sea, maybe uttering a silent prayer for safety and protection against the waves that still churned upon the beach before their view...for they understood that the treasure of these creatures was found in setting them free. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">With pails nearly overflowing, the girls sprinted back to where I stood, eager to share what they had found on their adventure on the beach that day. One by one, shells were gently lifted out of each pail, carefully, so as not to damage a single one in any way. The girls, placing them all in a line, admired them, rejoicing in each one being found, looked up at me with eyes wide with excitement. </div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"We found so many treasures, Momma. Aren't they all so beautiful?"</i></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> Along with my girls, I am certain that my face radiated with excitement and joy too, for at that moment, I realized something profound yet wonderful. The Lord rejoices over us too. Whether we are battered and broken by the waves, eroded by the friction of the sand, or whether only scattered remnants of us remain. If we are His children, He treasures us!</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">As Christians, we have such a difficult time believing that God could possibly delight in us. At least I do! But there is a verse found in Zephaniah 3:17 that has been such a huge encouragement to me that I would like to share with you too:</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: xx-small;"></span></div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: small;"> "The LORD your God is with you, he is <b>mighty to save</b>. </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> He will take <b>great delight in </b><b>you</b>, he will quiet you with his love, </span><br />
<span style="font-size: small;"> he will <b>rejoice over you</b> with singing." </span></blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">On occasion, my girls still pull out the box of treasures they collected on the beach that day. They gleefully share fond memories of time spent together as sisters, searching for treasures to fill their pails; treasures buried beneath the moist sand, waiting to be found. From the next room, I can hear giggling and chatting. As I peak in, I smile. Once again, they are gently placing each shell in a line, delighting in them with the same excitement and joy as they had done on the day of the big adventure on the beach.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b>This day, may you be more aware of how God delights over you as His child. </b></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif; text-align: center;"><b> Shhhh! Listen... you just might hear Him singing!</b></div>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-57829587666069205352010-06-16T20:27:00.002-04:002010-06-25T19:45:08.026-04:00A Couch with a Huge AppetiteI have a confession to make. I have kept it hidden long enough. My couch has a hole in it. The hole is perfectly hidden out of site by the cushions lying over it, but it is there and it is growing. It is not just a little barely noticeable hole. It is a HUGE hole...and it tends to eat things. If you have ever been to my house, sat on my couch, and had loose change in your pockets, it is likely that your change was missing when you arrived home, because my couch probably ate it. Sadly, this hole is not even a respecter of persons and has even been known to eat the belonging of babies. The hole in my couch is so large, in fact, that it tends to even eat my children on occasion. Thankfully, my couch has no ability to fully digest them...so eventually they are able to wiggle free from the springy teeth entrapping them; but the couch tries to eat them, nonetheless. I have found the craziest things in the belly of my couch...rubber bands, remote controls, books, socks, yogurt containers, perfume, DVD's, and once I even found a live chipmunk (don't ask) You name it, I have probably found it!<br />
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The interesting thing about the hole in my couch is that at one time, a few years back, the hole was so tiny that it was barely noticeable. In fact, it was so small I didn't pay any attention to it at all. <sigh> Now I pay attention to it. When something is missing in our home, the huge hole in the couch is the first place we tend to look. </sigh><br />
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Not only does this huge hole in my couch eat everything it can manage to fit into it's bloated stomach, it also causes the couch to be annoyingly uncomfortable to sit on. If there are more than two people sitting on it at a given time, both individuals tend to sink towards the middle if you know what I mean. At times, I try and rearrange the cushions on the couch thinking it may make the hole a little less noticeable, but to no avail...the HUGE hole is still there and growing larger. Despite my best efforts, the couch is still uncomfortable and it still eats things that I don't desire to have eaten.<br />
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I was thinking about the hole in my couch today as I was frantically cleaning for our adoption homestudy which takes place this evening. I must have spent 20 minutes fishing out all of our lost items and prized possessions, so I had plenty of time to think! <br />
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I was thinking about my life and how easily I tend to try and hide those areas of my life which I don't want anyone to know about...my sins, my fears, and my struggles. Or, how I at times try and make a change outwardly without regard to what is happening in my heart. Often times I become self-sufficient thinking that I have a better solution to my sin, fear, or struggle than God does. You know what I mean, don't you? <br />
<blockquote><i>"What would others think of me if they knew that I struggled with keeping my house clean? Well, I just need to find a better routine and it will get better."</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>"I am feeling really overwhelmed right now. Maybe I just need to call and cancel a few of my appointments until next week when I am feeling better."</i></blockquote>Can anyone out there relate? Why is it so easy for us to just brush our sins, fears, and struggles aside as being just a "small, barely noticeable" hole?" Or, why are we content to just "rearrange" the cushions in our lives thinking that in some way it will make things better?<br />
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I think the problem can be summed up with one word....PRIDE. We at times think we know better than God. Admit it...I will admit it. It shames me to say it, but it is true. There are so many times that I act as though I know better than God. But, the Bible has a lot to say about pride. Here are two verses that demonstrate very clearly how God feels about pride in our lives: <br />
<blockquote>James 4:6 says, "<i>God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble</i>."</blockquote><blockquote>Proverbs16:18 says, "<i>Pride goes before destruction,and a haughty spirit before a fall</i>."</blockquote>God's desire for us would be that we would be filled with humility, recognizing our need for a Savior, rather than being filled with pride which causes us to be self-absorbed. So, how do we grow in humility? Well, one expression of humility is being willing to cast our anxieties, fears, and struggles onto the Lord. Look at the following verse:<i> </i><br />
<blockquote><i>"<b>Humble yourselves</b>, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, that he may exalt you at the proper time, <b>casting all your anxiety on him</b> because he cares for you." </i></blockquote><br />
John Piper expresses how humility looks as well: <br />
<blockquote><i> “Faith admits the need for help. Pride won’t. Faith banks on God to give help. Pride won’t. Faith casts anxieties on God. Pride won’t.”</i></blockquote><blockquote><i>"Every good thing in the Christian life grows in the soil of humility. Without humility, every virtue and every grace withers." </i><i><br />
</i></blockquote>Our adoption homestudy was canceled for tonight. I guess that means next week I will have the privilege of emptying the belly of my couch again. I hope that as I do, I am able to cast a few more of my "holes" onto the Lord, giving Him thanks for the wonderful things He has taught me through the Huge, hungry hole in my couch which I was too prideful to admit was there until it was so large that it made sitting simply unbearable.Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-86277047111411199822010-06-16T09:15:00.004-04:002010-06-25T19:42:11.276-04:00Softening the Sound of Thunder and Getting Us Through the Storm<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cfQs98PD9En56H6i5WdxsePbWGp6RyxVX8z3835JSr7QPIhr5EMq-RJF5QcZHwZVAQBV4QhIJ-dMBp5fU9029097C7VtBPI4N6ei6nuwF1SrLQl7DCfqlXtsMh3EXE4HGlPZpfOfWII/s1600/fanndango_000B0041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_cfQs98PD9En56H6i5WdxsePbWGp6RyxVX8z3835JSr7QPIhr5EMq-RJF5QcZHwZVAQBV4QhIJ-dMBp5fU9029097C7VtBPI4N6ei6nuwF1SrLQl7DCfqlXtsMh3EXE4HGlPZpfOfWII/s320/fanndango_000B0041.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>It was about 5:00 this morning when I was aroused from my sleep by the deep rumbles and eery flashes of a thunderstorm. I rolled over trying to block out the sights and sounds filling my bedroom, when a sweet, soft-spoken voice caught my attention. It was Eliana, <i>"Mommy, I can't sleep!" </i> Without saying a word, I motioned for her to hop into bed beside me. Another chorus of thunder echoed through my bedroom, followed by violent flashes of lightening. I closed my eyes, trying to block it all out.<br />
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A few seconds later, I felt a little hand upon my arm. I looked up to see Amaris standing beside my bed. Once again, without saying a word, I motioned for Amaris to jump into my bed too. With every flash of lightening, I could feel two little bodies sliding up against me more closely, for comfort...for protection. With every rumble of thunder, I could feel two little hands reaching out to make sure that I was close by. <br />
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Eventually, the storm seemed as though it was finally beginning to pass. Amaris sat up and confidently said, <i>"Mommy, do you know why I come to your bed when it storms so much? Because the thunder doesn't seem as loud when you are with me and the lightening doesn't seem as scary. Isn't that good Mommy?"</i> ...I remember feeling that way as a child.<br />
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I know that probably many of you are experiencing a storm right now in your own personal lives. You may have even tried to tightly shut your eyes thinking if you block out the sights and sounds of the storm surrounding you, it will quickly pass. Or quite possibly, you are in a season of life where the sky is blue and cloudless, not a single rain cloud is in sight. But you and I both know that eventually, the blue of the sky will turn to a dark shade of gray and dark clouds will begin to appear, signaling an impending storm.<br />
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The question is, how will you get through the storm when it arrives? Will you bury your face in the covers hoping that it will not last long? Or, when God motions for you to come to Him so that he can comfort you, will you press into Him, trusting that He will get you through the storm unharmed. You do have a choice!<br />
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Typically, I find myself covering my eyes, holding my breath, and planning where I will seek safety just in case the storms in my life take a turn for the worse. But this morning, the Lord reminded me that all I have to do is reach out my hand and I would feel Him there with me...He is always there, you know?. I just choose to ignore His presence at times. Isn't that crazy? I know that if I just pressed into the Lord, He would get me through the storm. <br />
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What about you? When the impending storm arrives in your life, will you choose to try and get through it on your own, or will you trust the Lord to bring you safely to the other side?<br />
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Maybe this is a difficult question for you to answer because you feel so battered and bruised from previous storms in your life...or maybe you just don't know how to trust Him. Simply do as my girls did this morning. <br />
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<b> Reach out your hand and feel Him there with you,</b><br />
<b> Press your face deeply into his chest, </b><br />
<b> then, trust Him to get you through the storm.</b><br />
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<i>...</i>God may not immediately remove the storm from your life and you still may see and hear all of the sounds which the storm brings with it, but the rumbling of the thunder won't seem quite as loud and the violent flashes of lightening won't seem quite as scary<i>....</i>If you trust in HIM!Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-46234953411226966622010-06-15T10:35:00.003-04:002010-06-25T19:41:39.680-04:00A Fallen Chair, A Faithful Father<div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The piercing cry that resounded through the rooms of our home, was no doubt that of an injured child. I quickly ran in the direction of the desperately sounding cry, my heart racing. <i>"I had only left the room a moment earlier...What could have possibly happened?" </i> </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"> When I arrived upon the scene, there before me was a scared, trembling, and helpless child, pinned onto the hard floor beneath a fallen chair. Avidan looked up at me with tear-filled eyes...I wanted to cry too. As quickly as I could, I gently lifted the chair off of his tiny little frame, praying to God that he was not injured. As soon, as the chair was safely out of the way, I bent down over my son, scooped him up into my arms, and pulled his sweet little head close to my chest, whispering in his ear, <i>"Mommy is here, Avidan, Mommy is here." </i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Without hesitation, Avidan wrapped his short little arms around my neck, reciprocating the gentle comfort that I tried to give him. Within a few moments, his cries began to hush, turning to just a tiny whimper. Soon, all that remained was a quiet, helpless child, clinging to my neck. </div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Since then, I have replayed the events of that day in my mind over and over again. I also have thought about the times that I have felt scared or alone...the times I have felt overcome with pain. And yet, unlike my sweet child, I often times did not turn to my Heavenly Father for comfort for my scared and trembling body. Rather, I ran away thinking to myself, <i>"It will be okay, I just need to get over it."</i> OR <i>"I just need to be strong right now." </i></div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Have you ever felt that way? Have you ever desired so desperately to be comforted, yet were too proud to allow it, like me? Why is it that as adults, we are often times too prideful to seek the comfort of our Heavenly Father when we walk through trails? Ahh, I desire so deeply to be like my son. I desire to cry out to my Heavenly Father for my every need...fear...pain.</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><br />
</div><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">The Bible contains verse after verse confirming that God is with us through our trials: (This list hasn't even scratched the surface)</div><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"When I said, "My foot is slipping," your love, O Lord, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul."</i> Psalm 94:18-19</blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble."</i> Psalm 46:1 </blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"I sought the Lord, and he answered me; he delivered me from all my fears." </i>Psalm 34:4</blockquote><blockquote style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"><i>"So, do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." </i> Isaiah 41:10 </blockquote><div style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;"></div><span style="font-family: "Trebuchet MS",sans-serif;">Maybe today, you are like that of a helpless, trembling child. Maybe your marriage seems to be falling apart before your very eyes. Possibly, you are struggling with infertility, wondering if you will ever be able to hold the child that you have dreamt about for so long. Or, maybe you are facing the possibility of losing your job, questioning how you are going to pay this month's mounting bills. Or maybe your are suffering from depression or some physical illness, feeling as though you are all alone. Be encouraged! God desires to scoop you up from underneath the chair that has entrapped you and pull your helpless frame close to His chest...He desires to lovingly whisper in your ear, <i>"Daddy is here (your name), Daddy is here." </i></span><i> </i>Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3215159620948758205.post-40247743657436311422010-06-14T06:55:00.003-04:002010-06-25T19:39:31.867-04:00What Does Webster Have to Say about Normal?Over the past week, I have heard the word "normal" mentioned quite often. <br />
<blockquote>"Don't you want to adopt a "normal" child?"<br />
"This child will never be "normal!"<br />
"You already have 4 "normal" children, how could you possibly want one with Down Syndrome?"</blockquote>So, I was curious...What does "normal" really mean anyway? Well, according to Mr. Webster, "normal" is defined as:<br />
<blockquote></blockquote><blockquote>"being approximately average or within certain limits in, e.g. intelligence and development, a perfectly normal child."</blockquote>Maybe your opinion would differ from mine, but to me "normal" seems rather boring. When I read the definition of "normal", I picture one of those machines that spit out the Hershey Kisses, all looking exactly the same, and if one is malformed in any way the buzzer sounds to alert the workers to pull the "abnormal" one off the assembly line as quickly as possible. Sadly, I think many in the world would view our children with special needs in the same way. We have been so influenced by our culture to believe that "normal" should look a certain way, that it has robbed us of life's greatest blessings...our children, namely those with special needs. <br />
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Did you know that 90% of babies who are diagnosed as having Down Syndrome in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">utero</span> are aborted? And to make this statistic a little more frightening, 1 out of every 800 babies are diagnosed with having possible <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Down's</span>. It makes me shudder just thinking about it! <br />
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But God, in His goodness, gave us children with Down Syndrome and other special needs. They are a gift from Him and should be cherished, loved, and enjoyed. God did not make a mistake when He created little Kaleb. He lovingly and patiently knit Kaleb together in his mother's womb. Kaleb is a miracle...all children are! <br />
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Maybe you have a child that has been diagnosed with autism, diabetes, cerebral palsy, cancer, or learning disabilities. I would appeal to you that you have been given a great and wonderful treasure. Your child was hand-picked by God just for you! Isn't that amazing to consider? <br />
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So, be encouraged! And remember this day to thank God for His goodness towards you...and go and kiss your children on the heads and tell them that you are so glad that they aren't "normal".Satinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14270756852421513487noreply@blogger.com2