tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-35497290283236733142024-02-06T21:28:07.067-06:00Birds in the Treetops...and other things flittering about up there.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.comBlogger388125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-49415695756035068762017-08-15T22:31:00.000-05:002017-08-15T22:31:01.506-05:00I've Moved:)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
If you stumble across this blog, I'm glad you came. Feel free to browse. When you are finished you can visit me at my new internet home...<a href="http://wordsfromthenorthwoods.wordpress.com/">wordsfromthenorthwoods.wordpress.com</a>. The format is a little more streamlined, less about my kids (who apparently have an opinion!) and more about the things God reveals to my heart. I post when I feel led. <br />
Hope to see you there!</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-86923544553838734302016-01-01T18:03:00.001-06:002016-01-01T18:03:15.087-06:00Not Exactly What I Asked For<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As you may have noticed, I didn't exactly finish my Advent writing. No shocker, as Christmastime took over and busy invaded and I struggled to feel it this year. Writing doesn't exactly happen when I am rushed, and rushed I was. When the kids were finally on Christmas break I didn't want to spend our time on the computer so...I didn't.<br />
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So here we are, January 1, 2016. Another beginning. For the third year in a row, I asked God for a word, a focus for this year. I didn't give Him suggestions, per se, but I certainly had expectations! Happiness, Joy, Faith...yeah, those are all words I would gratefully receive! So imagine my surprise about a week ago when the word invaded my consciousness with the clarity of a diamond in a wedding ring!<br />
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Hard.<br />
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Wait, what? Hard? <i>Hard?</i> What the heck am I supposed to do with that? Hard? Surely I heard wrong. But, no. It was crystal clear that God wanted me to meditate on hard. <br />
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Was He telling me this year is going to be hard? Because, really, last year was plenty difficult. Character building, even. Refining from almost every direction. Do I want to know <i>in advance</i> that hard is coming, or isn't ignorance bliss?<br />
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But the clarity continued. Hard. As in, do the hard things. Stop making excuses. Stop expecting easy. Stop looking for ways out of hard. Do the hard of getting up early, of taking care of the only body that I will ever have on this earth. Do the hard of saying no to the worthless and unhealthy and get rid of the clutter, the fluff, the distractions. Expect hard, because He never promised easy. Be ready for hard because, whether I like it or not and <i>no matter how many ways I invent to avoid it</i> hard is just part of the journey.<br />
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So I sort of accepted it and moved on with the Christmas vacay. We went to the beach and enjoyed ourselves immensely. I even came home with a little bitty tan...in December! We relaxed and enjoyed the sparse decor of our rental. Then we drove home in the midst of tornado warnings all over Alabama. That was fun. (sarcasm)<br />
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We arrived home and I looked around my beautiful house and felt completely dissatisfied. After being in a near empty condo for a week I thought, "Why do we have all this STUFF?" We don't need or use most of this. I am being suffocated by books and magazines and clutter. <br />
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And there was that word again. Hard. Get rid of it. Clean it out. Stop the disorganization, both internal and external...because the fact is, the external is a sign of what is going on internally. Oh yes, I have been living a cluttered inner life. And it shows. Dang it. <br />
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I really would have been happy with a nicer word. <br />
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But God, He is so good, so loving. He does not always give me what I want, but He certainly gives me what I need...which apparently was a swift kick.<br />
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So happy 2016, sort of. Maybe I should say Hard 2016? The toddler in me is kicking and screaming but I have two choices...obedience or disobedience. I have lived long enough to know that obedience will always be worth it in the end. So, hard it is. <br />
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<i>But not in my strength, Lord. In yours alone can I do the hard things. Without you I will fail miserably. Show me your will, give me direction, lead me each step of the way. I am yours. My family is yours. <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">I will need to remember this.<br /></td></tr>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-12615555015298254322015-12-10T05:30:00.000-06:002015-12-10T05:30:00.550-06:00Prostitutes and Princesses {Day 10}<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
We started reading our Christmas devotional a few days early this year because we always fall behind and I always get frustrated:) <br />
Not that I am a control freak or anything.<br />
Unwrapping the Greatest Gift by Ann Voskamp is hands-down my absolute favorite devotional that we have ever done. It is both visually and literarily beautiful, stunning into smiling silence even my eight year old!<br />
So today we read about Rahab. The prostitute. I explained very carefully (so as not to open up THAT can of worms) what a prostitute is. I read about the red rope, the two spies, the promise made and kept, and the faith of a harlot that saved both her and her family. I read about grace...beautiful, irrational, heart-changing grace and how God took a prostitute and turned her into a princess. And not just any princess, but the <i>great-great-grandmother</i> of King David. And not just the great-great-grandmother of King David, but the (as Ann so sweetly calls her) the "many-many-many-times great-grandmother of <i>JESUS."</i><br />
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And do you know what blessed my soul the most this morning? The wide-eyed delight and gasp of shock that my precious youngest three let loose when they heard that. And when we asked the question...of how Jesus has been a lifeline to us? My eight year old Ethiopian princess said, "He gave me a family, a good family, so that I don't have to be stuck in Africa with no food." <br />
My son looked at her with surprise. "You really had no food?"<br />
"No, I really didn't."<br />
Oh, my heart. After five years home, this is the first time I have heard her speak this matter-of-factly about her past. And it was not out of a need to be dramatic, but out of a realization of what is compared to what once was.<br />
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What gratitude filled my heart that this little girl can see the beauty that has come from her hard, how Jesus was the rope that led her to safety and hope. That she looks at me know with eyes of love and quietly sits close when we read together so that her cheek is touching my arm.<br />
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This is grace...beautiful grace. <br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-58994800406826734472015-12-09T19:30:00.002-06:002015-12-09T19:30:52.559-06:00Absolutely Nothing {Day 9}<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I'm playing catch-up today. This is the last full week of the semester for my homeschoolers and next week is mid-terms for my big kids who go to "regular" school. <br />
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I have never been more ready for Christmas break.<br />
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Laundry has piled up to gigantic proportions, the house is a study in clutter 101, and one of the dogs keeps foraging through the trash and leaving the evidence behind. Lovely.<br />
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I got behind on my Revelation devotional...totally knew that would happen because that is how I roll...so after I finish this little post I am taking pen in hand and getting caught up.<br />
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Presents are (mostly) wrapped, the house is lit by colorful LED's (my first year with those and they are blindingly bright!) and so far the Elf has managed to move almost every day, though sometimes at mid-morning if my kids haven't noticed him yet. ;) <br />
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I am craving still. I am craving quiet, fire lit evenings and no homework or basketball games. As much as I enjoy watching my kids play sports, I love watching them laugh at A Christmas Story from their spot next to me on the couch even more. Family time is hard to come by in a season that is not only the most wonderful time of the year, but it is also the busiest.<br />
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Christmas break is so close. Just over a week away! After that, we will CHILL the heck out. We will sleep late and make cookies and eat too much sugar and get away from it all. We will road trip and swim in heated pools and maybe even find a nice Whataburger on the way! Doesn't that sound lovely?<br />
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So, I guess this post isn't really about anything. It's like my own mini-version of a Seinfeld episode. But, then again, maybe that is what we need. Absolutely nothing but to be still.<br />
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Yes, my pen and journal await. Revelation 8 and 9, here I come.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-23709766418174122692015-12-08T05:30:00.000-06:002015-12-08T08:10:01.502-06:00Shepherded {Advent Day 8}<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>"Therefore they are before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple; and he who sits on the throne will shelter them with his presence. They shall hunger no more, neither thirst anymore; the sun shall not strike them, nor any scorching heat. For the Lamb in the midst of the throne will be their shepherd, and he will guide them to springs of living water, and God will wipe away every tear from their eyes." Revelation 7: 15-17</i><br />
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Sometimes I read the news and I want to unsee everything I just saw. I look at my children, at their peers, growing up in this hard, mixed-up, terror-infested world and worry threatens. Too many of them put on a good show, pretending there is nothing going on that should bring them to their knees in prayer and living life as if old-age is guaranteed. Others, though the minority, have an inner maturity, an ability to see beyond the veil and long for the return of their Savior from a very young age.<br />
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I was once one of the former, choosing to ignore the potential of life being cut short, not realizing that life had not yet truly begun. God was distant and often displeased and I did not want to be near him. I knew I didn't measure up to his standards and I wasn't ready to start trying.<br />
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Then something changed within me. I began to grasp grace. Maybe it is just the maturity that comes with adulthood. Maybe it is watching my teenagers learn to navigate this hard world on their own. Maybe it is the candid glances in the mirror when I see my wrinkles and gray hairs becoming more prominent. But I just know that my focus has shifted. I no longer hope Jesus waits until...whatever I thought I had to experience before I was ready for him. Nope, as far as I'm concerned he can stop the madness right now and ride his white horse right into this world, whisking us all away in the twinkling of an eye. <br />
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We have a good, good shepherd. He leads us to fresh water, to green grass. He carries us through pain and tragedy and fear and rejection and death and promises eternity will be worth the journey. Oh, how I long for that forever. How I long to see my family and friends safely home and away from the hard of this life.<br />
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As Advent marches on, we can look forward in faith, in trust, in longing for the day that our faith will be made sight. Our shepherd sees over every hill, across every valley, and he leads us gently.<br />
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Rest awaits, dear sisters. When we are tired and stretched thin, we can turn our faces toward the One who holds the hanky and will gently wipe away every tear.<br />
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<i>We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain...Hebrews 6:19</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-11472512556346893902015-12-07T06:30:00.000-06:002015-12-07T06:30:02.966-06:00Coffee Stains {Advent Days 5-7}<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
It was the typical afternoon crash, especially for a Friday. Too many late nights combined with too many early mornings had caught up with me and this girl was T.I.R.E.D. My son had an occupational therapy appointment and I knew that, without a heavy dose of caffeine, I would be snoring in the waiting room.<br />
We had a little time to kill so I took my three homeschoolers to a local coffee shop and got us all a treat. I doctored my coffee up nicely and led everyone back to the car to drive across town to the Physical Therapy office. As I sipped my African Skies it kept dripping in my lap. The drink hole in the plastic lid was lined up with the seam of the cup and coffee was leaking every time I tilted it to my mouth. I decided to try to turn the lid a little to get the seam on top (stupid me!) and, OOPS, the lid popped off and steaming coffee splattered all over me, all over my jeans and <i>white</i> sweatshirt. Thankfully it didn't burn my skin but I was a mess and too far from home to turn around and get a change of clothes. We had exactly fifteen minutes before the appointment so I darted a few blocks past the Physical Therapy office to Old Navy to hopefully find a cheap sweatshirt.<br />
Talk about shopping to beat the clock! I found a cheap and cute shirt, and grabbed a pair of jeans...even trying them on to be sure they fit...in less than ten minutes! I paid, drove back to the PT office, and darted into the bathroom to change. I walked out like I had planned to do this all along and stashed my stained and smelly clothes in the car, sitting down calmly to sip my coffee and fight sleep while my boy was in his appointment. <br />
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<i>So tonight I was mulling this over and it struck me that there is a lesson in this mundane, coffee-stained story. </i><br />
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When I came out of the bathroom with my new clothes on, there were different people in the waiting room than had been there when I arrived. Those who saw me walk in saw the hurried, stinky version of me. Those who saw me walk out saw me in new clothes...a signature sweatshirt and Rock Star cut jeans. (High waisted...every over-40 woman's friend!) They saw me sit quietly to finish the book I had been reading on my Kindle and probably thought I was a calm, laid back person. They didn't see me yelling for wet-wipes as I drove down the road and hot coffee was steaming off my arms. They saw the me that I like everyone to see, put-together and calm.<br />
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But you know what? The frazzled coffee-stained mom is more the real me than the one in the new clothes. Sure, I managed to hide the evidence in a plastic Old Navy bag in my car but those clothes are the ones I have worn for years. Oversized, frayed and faded. But when I got home, I still had to deal with the reality that those clothes needed to be washed. The only other option would be to throw them away.<br />
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Do you see where I am going with this?<br />
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How often do I put on my calm, new-outfit self and pretend like I don't have coffee (SIN) stained clothes stashed somewhere? Aren't we all guilty of being perky, bouncy, cheerleader Christians when we are really frazzled, frustrated, and faithless? Why is it so hard to go out in public with stains? <i>Could it be because we think we are the only ones with them?</i> <br />
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When I saw my friend this morning, a dear sister who I hadn't laid eyes on in person in a couple of years (even though we live in the same town), she quickly expressed concern and frustration with that child of hers who is clearly cut from different cloth than the others. I saw the weariness in her face and felt so free in her presence because I know exactly what she is dealing with. Loving someone who can be difficult, worrying that the struggle is the result of faulty parenting and just really wanting a break from the constant battle. Yes, in her openness about her struggle I was put at ease to be open with mine. Her lack of fear squelched mine. <br />
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This is how it is supposed to be!<br />
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When we let our brothers and sisters see our stains, maybe it helps them to reveal their own. Maybe we are supposed to help each other do our spiritual laundry instead of stashing it in a plastic bag and pretending the smell is not coming from the back of our car. <br />
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Maybe, just maybe, this is what is meant by the words of Galatians 6:1-3...<br />
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<i>Brothers, if anyone is caught in any transgression, you who are spiritual should</i></div>
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<i>restore him in a spirit of gentleness. Keep watch on yourself, lest you too be tempted. </i></div>
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<i>Bear one another's burdens, and so fulfill the law of Christ.</i></div>
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<i>For if anyone thinks he is something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself.</i></div>
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I believe we are to look upon one another's stains with grace. We are to help each other clean them up gently and make sure we are dealing with our own at the same time so that we don't become condescending. God wants us to be real, to admit weakness and be strong for our brothers and sisters in their weak places while allowing them to be strong for us in <i>our</i> weak places. </div>
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<i>In this</i> is safety. <i>In this</i> is community. <i>In this </i>is found true, Christ-honoring family.</div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-26258412289004694342015-12-04T05:00:00.000-06:002015-12-04T05:00:04.950-06:00Worth It {Advent Day 4}<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<i>At once I was in the Spirit, and there before me was a throne in heaven with someone sitting on it. And the one who sat there had the appearance of jasper and ruby. A rainbow that shone like an emerald encircled the throne. Surrounding the throne were twenty-four other thrones, and seated on them were twenty-four elders. They were dressed in white and had crowns of gold on their heads. From the throne came flashes of lightning, rumblings and peals of thunder. In front of the throne, seven lamps were blazing. These are the seven spirits of God. Also in front of the throne there was what looked like a sea of glass, clear as crystal.</i></div>
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<i>In the center, around the throne, were four living creatures, and they were covered with eyes, in front and in back. The first living creature was like a lion, the second was like an ox, the third had a face like a man, the fourth was like a flying eagle. Each of the four living creatures had six wings and was covered with eyes all around, even under its wings. Day and night they never stop saying:</i></div>
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<i>“‘Holy, holy, holy</i></div>
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<i>is the Lord God Almighty,’</i></div>
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<i>who was, and is, and is to come.”</i></div>
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<i>Revelation 4: 2-8</i></div>
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This was the third year that I have asked God for (and received) a word theme for the new year. In the past I had shared the word, but this year I did not because I felt like there was much unfolding that would need to take place before I would understand what God was teaching me. I wrote the word in the front of my Bible and went on, not having a clue where this was going. </div>
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The word was "worth."</div>
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Well, as I have been writing about over the past few days, this has been a hard year for me. As I have confessed my weakness and looked at my days with fresh eyes I am struck with how God brings things full circle. As the year draws to a close, here I sit...writing out the book of Revelation. Writing it in cursive, taking my time, paying close attention to detail because every word is holy. </div>
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Revelation...the vision given to John. The glimpse of what is coming, what is in existence that we cannot yet see. Encouragement to the Church as we await the promise of Jesus' return that he is, in fact, really coming for us. He will come soon and we are wise to long for that day. God reminds us of what he has in store beyond this life with a foretaste of beauty beyond what our human imaginations can comprehend.</div>
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Picture it, or at least try. Read the description of the throne. A rainbow, flashes of lightning, peals of thunder. A see of crystal clear glass. God, seated on his throne surrounded by <i>and the source of</i> incredible beauty.</div>
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This, what John attempts to describe in his limited human vocabulary, is what awaits us! Laundry, dirty floors, hurried schedules, persecution and hardships are all the Lord's refining work, preparing us for this...this unbelievably beautiful place that we will forever call home. All the struggle, all the questions and fears, all the muddied stares into dim mirrors will be made clear and, my friends, all the junk we wade through now...even to the point of dying for our faith... will be WORTH IT.</div>
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Do you hear me? It will be totally worth it! Just as a new mama cradles her baby close immediately after the pain of childbrith or, in my case, after the heartache of parting with a grieving birthmother who walks away with tears streaming down her face, the joy is worth the pain. Will the pain be remembered? I believe so. But it will be given the perspective of eternity, of how it fit into the tapestry that is our life in the context of the Kingdom of God. As the world seems to fall into chaos and we fight to keep our families intact and teach our kids to think completely opposite of the twisted logic society uses to indoctrinate them we can lift up our eyes and fix them on Jesus. We do our best but we remember, always, that it is not about us. Success or failure in any area of life is ultimately for the glory of God and we are only called to be faithful in whatever he places before us, not to measure our success by the world's standards. My life may appear in some eyes to be a total disaster, but if I have been faithful despite the confusion then the One who writes my story will look at me and say, "Well done."</div>
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In the end, that is all that matters. </div>
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Whatever the rest of my days hold, I can choose to trust God's loving hand is on me. I can choose to believe his promises for me and those I love even when their lives don't look like I would have wanted them to because, the truth is, I didn't exactly walk a straight path to Jesus in my early years of life. Far from it. Yet He brought me to himself and changed me from the inside out. He has proven himself faithful over and over. In my life, and the lives of more people than I can count, God has taken rebel hearts and molded them into beautiful and strong servants. When I don't trust him, I am choosing to ignore all the years he has spent proving himself to me.</div>
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But when I do trust him, I remember. I remember the glimpse he gave to John, passed down to us over centuries. I remember the stories of those who have gone before me, whose eyes lit up with wonder and smiles spread across disease-weary faces as they crossed of from this life to the next. In that moment, with just one glance at glory, all the suffering was worth it.</div>
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For every one of us, no matter how trivial or extreme the suffering may be in the eyes of the world, <i><u>Heaven will most certainly be worth it.</u></i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-22913290266527172072015-12-03T05:00:00.000-06:002015-12-03T05:00:05.010-06:00Mostly Dead {Advent Day 3}<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<i>"And to the angel of the church in Sardis write: 'The words of him who has the seven spirits of God and the seven stars.</i><br />
<i> "I know your works. You have the reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up, and strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have not found your works complete in the sight of my God. Remember, then, what you received and heard. Keep it, and repent. If you will not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you." </i><br />
<i>Revelation 3:1-3</i><br />
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My friend, Sandy, invited me to a Facebook group this week that is doing an unusual Advent devotional. We are writing out, by hand, one chapter of the book of Revelation each day. So far, it has been wonderful. <br />
It totally appeals to my inner nerd. I love me some pen and paper. I like to take notes as I read books, underlining important sentences or phrases, and I like to take notes in church because I remember the sermon much better if I have had my hands involved in listening. One thing I hate for our kiddos is that computers and tablets are replacing handwriting in schools. I think that is a big mistake and hurts their ability to learn. There is something about the scratching of a pencil on paper that sends louder signals to the brain, cementing the information. <br />
That's why this devotional seems to be so effective to me. It slows me down. I have to pay attention to details, spelling, punctuation, where paragraphs begin and end. I am reading and re-reading as I go and passages that I know I have read in the past are jumping out at me, like the one at the top of this post.<br />
<br />
I think about my life, about the internal struggles I have been facing and the terrible attitude I have had toward them. Most people would tell me I am a good wife and mom, a fun one, that they envy my relationship with God and the good times my family has. And those things are often true.<br />
I have the reputation of being alive, but I have to admit that I have been, in the words of Miracle Max..."Mostly Dead."<span id="goog_1013241234"></span><span id="goog_1013241235"></span><br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiONIigKXrWzjgPM_o1HUYlb8yeA73fa5nY5Kms32y8mzQnnL5BBaDKef2_uhjHlEy9ukwh_eGPOcrWvd_hBOmKNinwgLa4DbmitpUKm62-IX4y8GPGvFIWJ6RfsK6tvRWq6jvQ4XE2w24/s1600/miracle+max.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiONIigKXrWzjgPM_o1HUYlb8yeA73fa5nY5Kms32y8mzQnnL5BBaDKef2_uhjHlEy9ukwh_eGPOcrWvd_hBOmKNinwgLa4DbmitpUKm62-IX4y8GPGvFIWJ6RfsK6tvRWq6jvQ4XE2w24/s1600/miracle+max.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">From "The Princess Bride"</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<br /></div>
<i>Sigh. </i>Walking around mostly dead is mostly miserable. When you are mostly dead, your eyes and ears are closed. You may be physically in the same room with a hundred people, but for all practical purposes you are alone.<div>
Useless.</div>
<div>
Cold.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But Jesus tells us in these verses that we have a CHOICE. If we didn't then the following phrases would never have left his mouth! He tell the church (and the mamas and the wives and the sisters and friends) to <i>WAKE UP.</i> </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>"Wake up,"</i> he says with eyes blazing intense. <i>"Wake up and strengthen what remains and is about to die."</i> </div>
<div>
In other words, we are on our way out if we don't do something and do it quickly! </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>"I have not found your works complete..."</i></div>
<div>
Sisters, we have fallen short. We were trying to do it all without him (again) and over and over Jesus reminds us that, without him, nothing will be complete. </div>
<div>
But with him? ALL things are possible. He is the author AND finisher of our faith. He didn't just save us then step back to see how we did on our own! No, he wants us to work alongside him. He wants us to step when he steps and stop when he stops. Rest when he rests and keep our eyes on him through it all.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<i>"Remember what you have received and heard. Keep it and repent." </i></div>
<div>
This reminds me of King David's prayer, when he asked God to restore the joy of his salvation. When I remember what I have received (salvation, mercy, grace, instructions in God's love letter that will guide me through every circumstance of my life) and when I choose to walk in it, repenting of my failures and unbelief when they rear their ugly heads, then I will be awake.</div>
<div>
Alive.</div>
<div>
NOT dead.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Jesus says in the last sentence, "<i>If you will not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what hour I will come against you."</i></div>
<div>
Mostly dead mamas do not see or hear what is right in front of them. Not only the lives of our families, but the fact that Jesus is right here, nearby, preparing to return at any moment. If I am mostly dead, I will be utterly shocked when he shows up. But if I am alive and my eyes are fixed on him?</div>
<div>
I will see my King coming from a mile away!</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Yes, I want to SEE. I want to fully live right here, right now. I want to be alive and eye to eye with this beautiful family that surrounds me. Open the eyes of my heart, Lord. I want to see you!</div>
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<i><br /></i></div>
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<br /></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-75405066638029234722015-12-02T05:00:00.000-06:002015-12-02T05:00:11.846-06:00Choosing Contentment {Advent Day 2)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Isn't it funny how, when God starts convicting your heart about something, He comes at you from several directions at once? <br />
<br />
I awakened early yesterday morning, did twenty minutes on the elliptical trainer while listening to a sermon online and catching up on my Bible reading plan, then logged off and didn't check social media ONCE until my alarm went off at 8pm, giving me permission to check my newsfeeds. I enjoyed my kids, took the oldest for a quick run to Wal-Mart and took special notice of his deepening voice and his daily-growing height as we walked together, and went to bed proud of my bad self.<br />
<br />
Except I didn't go to bed. Well, at least not on the first attempt. One delay after another and the next thing you know I was turning in at 11:30, which nixed any willpower I had to get up at 5:30 and work out.<br />
<br />
I didn't even make it 24 hours, y'all.<br />
<br />
So I got up as usual today. I resisted the urge to snark when a kid copped a 'tude and worked through the day's lessons with my three homeschoolers. At lunch I sat down and began to scroll...<br />
WAIT just one darn second.<br />
Scroll? Didn't I set an alarm for 8pm to prevent this very thing?<br />
I suck, y'all. I totally suck at self-discipline.<br />
I turned off my phone in disgust and sighed. My youngest son walked up to me to tell me something and I made it a point to look him in the eye and smile, to kiss his beautiful, full lips before he walked away with a grin, and remind myself that I am not going back. No way.<br />
<br />
After our school day ended I sat down for some Bible Study time and turned on a podcast. It was by Priscilla Shirer and, let me tell you, it was no accident that it is what I happened upon today. The title of the podcast is Surprising Satisfied and it was exactly what I needed to hear.<br />
<br />
She talked about our terrible habit of striving, of always hurrying through life. Especially during hard seasons. She said, "We sleepwalk through now in order to race to the next thing."<br />
I am so guilty of this, on an almost daily basis!<br />
<br />
In the years my husband was in medical training, I "couldn't wait" until he got out of school. Then I "couldn't wait" until he was out of residency. I "couldn't wait" to have kids. Then I "couldn't wait" to have more kids! Then I "couldn't wait" until he had a <i>real job</i> that actually paid all of our bills. I "couldn't wait" til my kids were potty trained.<br />
<br />
Do you see a pattern here? Even in the midst of the sweetest seasons of my life, I always wanted more...the next good thing. So she challenged me. She said I need to resolve to:<br />
1. Embrace the current season of my life. That includes the good, the bad, and the ugly. It includes the stuff that I was sure I "didn't sign up for" but that God apparently signed me up for because He filters everything through his big, loving hands.<br />
2. Maximize the time in this season. Look my children in the eye, even when they are angry or seem to be rejecting everything I am trying to teach them. Appreciate what makes them who they are. Love my husband with all that I am. Let the things that I have had to put on the backburner stay there until God brings them out to the front.<br />
3. Resist the urge to hurry through the hard times or circumvent the journey altogether. <i> Eucharisteo:</i> Ann Voskamp's sweet reminder that, whether in the easy or hard we are told over and over in Scripture to live a lifestyle of thanksgiving. There is a reason for everything. Hard has a purpose. Without suffering we are a weak-kneed and useless people. (And so are our children...but that is a whole other post!)<br />
4. Love with a spirit of contentment. She defined contentment in a way that I have never heard before. "Sufficiency that comes from the Holy Spirit." It all boils down to trust, doesn't it? Trust in the sovereignty of God, trust in the goodness of God, trust that he sees and knows and is using every circumstance, both good and hard, to conform me (or my family) to the likeness of His Son. It is being calm, not striving to "just get through the day." It is stopping and looking around for reminders that He is still at work just as He has always been. He never sleeps, nor does he slumber.<br />
<br />
I don't want to miss out on God. I don't want to miss out on the here and now with my family. I want to be a woman who is not blindsided by difficulty and ends up in the fetal position out of sheer panic. That is no measure of faith. I want to stand firm in the face of the storm, to keep my eyes fixed on Jesus and let Him fight the battles instead of trying to wrench the sword out of His hand. After all, that sword is way too heavy for me. <br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-87518767289615756532015-12-01T05:00:00.000-06:002015-12-01T19:28:57.923-06:00Joylessness and the Cure {Advent-Day 1}<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have never felt less like putting up Christmas decorations than I did this year. The lack of enthusiasm bothered me. I looked in frustration at the boxes upon boxes of Christmas stuff that I have collected over nearly twenty years of marriage and felt burdened at the thought of having to get it all out then put it all away in January.<br />
<br />
This is not my norm at all.<br />
<br />
Christmas has always been my favorite holiday. Jesus, lights, sparkly ornaments, Santas and Snowmen make me happy. Or at least they did. <br />
<br />
What was wrong with me this year? Why the blahs? Why would decorating my home feel like a chore instead of a joyous task? My kids were excited. They happily helped their daddy carry the boxes downstairs. They excitedly unpacked their own special ornaments (We get them a new one each year) and set up their little trees in their rooms. But me? I felt like a grouch. A Scrooge.<br />
<br />
Bah, humbug.<br />
<br />
Then a text came through from my sister-in-law. It was a photo of their baby, staring in wonder at their tree, her beautiful face lit up by the lights. My heart ached and I realized that my problem is me. <br />
I keep wishing for what has passed and struggling with what is now. I miss having babies and toddlers. My youngest is eight and my oldest is fifteen and these parenting years are hard. My biggest worry used to be getting them to like carrots or potty train. Now it is driving, relationships, and preparing them for adulthood The years are growing very short. The pause button has been pressed on some of my dreams and the delete button has been pressed on others. I have grown weary and self-centered and resentful and the inability to be excited about <i>Christmas</i> for crying out loud is a terrible indicator of the junk lurking in my sinful heart. I am tired. Stretched thin. <br />
<br />
Then Sunday came.<br />
<i><br /></i>
<i>Sunday's sermon was unusual</i>. A British missionary told colorful stories in his thick accent and reminded us who know Jesus of the importance of the gospel while admonishing those who do not believe that, despite what the world tells them, Jesus is exactly what they need. He told the story of being forced to get a shot as a child at the doctor's office and realizing as an adult that if the doctor had given in to his childish tantrum he would have died that year at the age of seven. In his words, "He didn't give me what I wanted, but he gave me what I needed."<br />
<br />
This has resonated with me, cycling through my mind over and over and over. What, exactly, do I want? Peace in my home, children who love each other and love Jesus, time to write my book that is not even halfway finished, and a clean house. This all sounds reasonable on the surface, but the Lord is digging deeper. Uncovering the root of my frustration. And the truth is, I want easy.<br />
<br />
There. I said it.<br />
<br />
I want things to fall into place while I watch with a smile, for my kids to rise up and call me blessed and my husband to praise me in the marketplace but I have allowed the frustrations of these years to rob me of my joy in serving. I have stopped investing blood, sweat and tears and just settled for bitterness. I have not exercised in weeks, stay up too late scrolling through my news feed, and long for the early years of parenting when my babies adored me and I happily wiped up their messes because I was <i>just so thrilled to be a mama</i> that I would do anything for these little angels in my charge. <br />
<br />
King David prayed in Psalm 51, "Restore to me the joy of Your salvation and sustain me with a willing spirit." He had sinned with Bathsheba and was coming to the Lord in repentance. He knew he had become ineffective for the kingdom of God. That is why he continued by saying, "Then I will teach transgressors Your ways, And sinners will be converted to You." <br />
<br />
My children are watching me. What are my actions or inactions telling them? Do they feel treasured, worth sacrificing sleep, time, and energy for? Or do they feel like they are burdens to me? Oh, how it grieves my heart to think of all the ways I have failed this year. <br />
<br />
A joyless Christian is an ineffective evangelist. <br />
<i>A joyless mother cannot effectively lead her children in the ways of Christ. </i><br />
<br />
Now, lest you think I have disliked being a mom this year, I want to be sure to tell you I have not. I have loved so much of the time I have been given with my children this year. There have been beautiful milestones and moments of tenderness that I will forever treasure. But my lack of joy as Christmas approaches caused me to stop and realize that sin was lurking and, unless I face it head-on, it will grow and continue to wreak havoc in my life. <br />
<br />
So, how do I combat this? How do I replace bitterness with joy?<br />
<br />
Step 1. <br />
Get off of social media.<br />
<br />
Ok, ok. We have all done "fasts" and that is not what I am talking about here. Facebook is a part of modern communication. Without it I would lose touch with too many people I care about. But how often do I need to check it? Not as often as I do, I assure you. In the time I have spent mindlessly scrolling through my news feed, how many books could I have read? How many pages could I have written? How many times could I have read the Bible? How many games could I have played with my kids? So my plan is to put social media where it belongs. I will set an alarm on my phone for once per day and I will only check my news feed at that time. I am turning off all push notifications, etc, in order to make it less tempting. <br />
<br />
Step 2.<br />
Exercise.<br />
<br />
I have GOT to make this a priority again. First of all, I am not getting any younger. Eating healthy is good but not enough. My Dad had quadruple bypass surgery a couple of months ago and, because he has always been so active, he recovered in record time. <br />
Would I? <br />
I am going to set my alarm and get up earlier. I have to. If I don't exercise first thing in the morning it simply will not happen at all. <br />
<br />
Step 3.<br />
Write. <br />
<br />
I am writing a book. I'm thirteen chapters into it. It is never going to finish itself so I am going to have to set aside time for it if I really want to complete it. And this blog! I mean, I really enjoy telling you what is on my heart and creating a community of women who encourage one another. But I don't write often so most of you probably forget to even check because there is rarely anything new here! Remember the decision to set my alarm and get up earlier? I can use a few of those minutes to write, as well.<br />
<br />
Step 4.<br />
Pray and read God's Word.<br />
<br />
This is really step one, but because of my messed-up priorities this has fallen aside...again. Satan has had a heyday with me. "Keep her busy and the first thing she'll drop is prayer." Yep. He was right. But I don't have to be such an easy target, do I? Short, desperate prayers become my norm when I am stretched thin. But God wants more from me. He wants <i>time. </i>He wants relationship and intimacy. Kinda hard to have that with someone who never actually talks to you or lets you talk to them, right? <br />
<br />
Step 5.<br />
Play.<br />
<br />
I was a really fun mama to littles. As they have gotten older, I have become less fun. In fact, the lack of exercise, sleep, and joy has made me grouchy. I'm sick and tired of feeling sick and tired. I want to run with my babies and splash in the pool. I want to care less about a clean house and build relationships that are solid and forever. I want my husband to look at me with pride and take joy in the lighter atmosphere of our home. I realize that, because I am home with kids all day, I have the power to set the tone of our home. <br />
It is time to dance again.<br />
<br />
What do I want? My flesh wants easy. But God, He knows what I need. He knows that, without pruning, there can be very little new growth. He is pruning me. It is painful. <br />
But it is what I need.<br />
<br />
<i>If you are struggling with finding joy this season, will you join me? Comment with your name and what you plan to do to combat the joylessness and let's pray for one another. Share this post with your friends and encourage them to get a game plan. Let's make this Christmas Season a time of fresh beginnings. Like my baby niece who looked at wonder at the tree full of lights, let's encourage one another to see our role as wives, mothers, and daughters of the King with fresh eyes!</i></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-28083734463969791952015-11-04T12:18:00.000-06:002015-11-04T12:18:07.833-06:00Always Post with Permission<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I am fifteen years and change into motherhood. I have watched the Church go from almost complete ignorance about adoption to embracing it with white knuckles and encouraging everyone who knows Jesus to consider the option. I have worn the tee-shirts, written the blog posts, and shared the hash-tags because #adoptionrocks and my kids are awesome and you should have awesome kids like these, too.<br />
<br />
But all of that has changed in recent years.<br />
<br />
My kids are growing up. They see all of the memes and hashtags and I want to tell you something...in love.<br />
<br />
They make some kids uncomfortable.<br />
<br />
Why? Think back to when you were a teen. Remember wanting to fit in? Remember wanting to be known and understood? Remember how much you loved being part of the crowd? Well, for some kids the constant reminder of their beginnings makes them feel like a project, a mission, singled out, different. They resist the labels the world tries to paste on them and the questions from their friends weigh them down. <br />
<br />
They pretend they don't know me sometimes because they don't want to hear "is THAT your mom?" one. more. time. <br />
<br />
Adoption is a wonderful thing. I am passionate about it. It is how God built my family. The way each of my children came to me is filled with miracles and moments that only God could have orchestrated. My heart is fully theirs, rejoicing when they rejoice, proud of every accomplishment, heartbroken over every tear. My desire to protect them is fierce, as is my realization that sometimes this world is beating them up and the only power I have with which to fight is prayer. <br />
<br />
And pray, I do. <br />
<br />
So many well-meaning parents are plastering their kids all over Facebook this month as the reason you should adopt, but I want you to understand something. My kids and their kids are NOT the reason to adopt. Adoption is a calling of God. If you are not called, you have no business adopting. It is not a movement, a club, or a mission. It is baring your heart and letting it be rubbed raw. It is walking out hard stories, tearful questions, and loving even when you are rejected by the child you fought so hard to bring home. It is recognizing the miracle of attachment and always, <i>always</i> wondering if "this is normal behavior or adoption-related." It is pursuing a child who doesn't always know they need to be pursued and answering gut-wrenching questions that you wish had easier answers. It is, in most ways, similar to parenting a biological child but it seems that adoptive parents feel MUCH more freedom to overshare online about their kids who were adopted.<br />
<br />
<i>Listen, I was one of those rebellious children. </i> I was the kid who, for a season, thumbed my nose at my Father and said His rules were stupid. I went my own way until I was broken and realized my need for a Savior. But my Abba didn't put on a t-shirt and tell all of Heaven "adoption rocks." He knelt down beside me, scooped me up in His arms and whispered truth through my sorrow into my heart. He focused His attention on me, on changing me and growing me and making me more like Jesus. <br />
<br />
He did not advertise me; that would have been humiliating. No, He made me his daughter and then taught me how to live in His family. He forgave me, over and over, every time I forgot I was His daughter and acted like I'd "never had raising." <br />
<br />
He still does.<br />
<br />
Please, as November progresses and adoption is advertised all over social media, be careful. Be aware of how some of these things may appear to our kids. Yes, many kids are not bothered by it. Great. But I would venture to say that many (if not most) are. There are tens of thousands of kids from hard places in the U.S. alone. Some of their beginnings were filled with sacrificial love. Some were tragic. Some of them were pure hell. Do what God calls you to do when building your family, but please don't advertise it as "the next cool church movement" because very real hearts too often struggle with very real pain and then well-meaning parents are ill-equipped to deal with it. Again, I speak as one guilty of oversharing. Our kids will resent being held up as the poster children for adoption if we are not very careful. <br />
<br />
Our kids need to be our kids. Period. Their stories need to be private, only shared by THEM at THEIR discretion. Some kids are very open, others avoid talking about their adoptions or lives before adoption like the plague because, for reasons only they may know, sharing these things is deeply painful to them. We, as their God-given parents, must acknowledge this and stop airing their laundry on social media. Whether our children are well-behaved or rebellious, joyous or angry, we have no business putting their stories out there on your Facebook timeline for all the world (including their friends) to read.<br />
<br />
Please, friends, if you take nothing else away from what I am saying here...<i>always</i> post with permission. <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-58802879946507144532015-09-16T12:46:00.000-05:002015-09-16T12:46:10.941-05:00In which I regain my Sanity<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
School started over a month ago. The teens are immersed in the crazy busyness of their new school (They love it but, y'all...<i>the homework</i>. Yes, I have asked more than once "Are you SURE this is what you wanted???") My younger ones are home with me and we are having an AMAZING homeschool year. I am in love with our new curriculum and they are progressing well, thank the Lord! But there is one teensy problem:<br />
I have had ZERO alone time. <br />
Homeschooling all day, helping with homework at night, and teens who think sleep is for sissies have turned this happy extrovert into a girl in desperate need of NO ONE TALKING TO ME FOR JUST FIVE MINUTES.<br />
Ok, maybe an hour.<br />
<i>Please.</i><br />
<br />
Enter...<i>the enrichment program</i>.<br />
This, my friends, is the golden child of all homeschooling inventions. You see, on Wednesdays, I have from 9am until 2pm ALL BY MYSELF.<br />
Alone.<br />
Quiet.<br />
Can you say recharge? Because that is EXACTLY what I am doing! <br />
I am writing a book. A BOOK! It feels so good to settle into a comfy chair at our local coffee shop with my computer and type away. This is the best therapy in the world for me! <br />
Now don't misunderstand the sentiment here...I by no means want to be alone every day. I love my children more than life and teaching them brings such joy and satisfaction to my heart. But every mama needs a break and, by the grace of God I am getting it every Wednesday. <br />
Praise the Lord and pass the creamer!<br />
<br />
Anywho...<br />
<br />
I wanted to share with you what we are using this year. It is our sixth year of homeschooling but my first time to use a "boxed" curriculum. We are using Heart of Dakota Preparing Hearts for His Glory with the extension pack for my 10 year old to make sure she is appropriately challenged. It is truly a wonderful curriculum with each day's lessons clearly laid out and scripted (read: idiot-proof) and it ties history in beautifully with Scripture, helping the kids see the Word of God in context with the culture in which it was written. It also covers science, art, poetry, vocabulary and Bible and gives them lots of practice with narration and copywork. I honestly wish I had started using it years ago, but I kept listening to the "boxed curriculum" naysayers. Lesson learned.<br />
My 10 year old uses Teaching Textbooks for Math, supplemented with Life of Fred and Timez Attack math drills. (Go to bigbrainz.com for more info on the Timez Attack game. It is amazing!) For English she uses Rod and Staff and is practicing her cursive with Handwriting without Tears. <br />
For my 3rd graders, along with Heart of Dakota, they are doing both Language Arts and Math using Time 4 Learning. (time4learning.com) This has been a godsend because both of them have different learning struggles (auditory/visual processing) and Time 4 Learning address the topics from so many different angles that they are both GETTING it. I am also supplementing their math with Life of Fred and Timez Attack drills. They do Spelling U See lessons after lunch and are learning cursive using Handwriting Without Tears. For my guy who struggles with spacial reasoning and letter reversals, cursive is proving to be a JOY. His Occupational Therapist had told me it might help him and it truly has. Even though we are only a handful of letters into cursive, he already wants to write EVERYTHING in cursive! Yay for enthusiasm!<br />
<br />
So here I am, organized. What the heck? When the year began, I felt like I was flying by the seat of my pants. Adjusting to school drop-off and pick-up along with all the busy things that teens want to do while homeschooling three kids has had me feeling like my head was spinning. I think I am just now beginning to come up for air. But even though it might be only for a day here and there, it sure feels good to breathe. Do I miss homeschooling them all? Yes and no. The older ones did not like it, did not want it, and our relationship depended on me being able to let go and let them go to school. Yes, it is much harder than they thought it would be and their organizational skills apparently did not get well-honed during their homeschooling years.<br />
Ahem.<br />
But the blessing is that they are smart and able and the struggles they have now, my sweet husband reminds me, are part of God's refining process in their lives. (And, to be perfectly blunt, in ours!) It is a lot to navigate and I too easily let the important things (like time in God's Word) slide when life gets too busy. But today, on this Wednesday that I have alone, the Lord whispered to me to come away with Him.<br />
So I did. <br />
And it is here that He reminds me that <i>He</i> is my children's Heavenly Father. <i>He</i> is the one who gives them knowledge and wisdom. They are being molded by <i>Him</i> and their success and/or failures are not a reflection on me or my parenting. I can neither take responsibility nor credit for the adults they will become. I can only point them to Jesus and try my best to model a healthy walk with Him while falling on my knees in prayer to the One who IS responsible for who they will become. <br />
That is freeing, folks. Look what God says:<br />
<br />
Isaiah 26: 3-4...<i>You keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on you, because he trusts in you. Trust in the Lord forever, for the Lord God is an everlasting rock.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Daniel 1:17-<i>As for these four youths, God gave them learning and skill in all literature and wisdom, and Daniel had an understanding in all visions and dreams.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
It is all on Him. I am just one of many tools the Lord will use in the lives of my children. May He be glorified in their lives.<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-33442831482284439212015-08-24T06:00:00.000-05:002015-08-29T17:19:19.631-05:00The Heart of Homeschooling<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
As we enter into our sixth year of homeschooling, I am amazed at how much has changed. I began this journey with 4 kids, ages 3-10. Life was busy and anticipation was building as we prepared to bring home our fifth child. We dove in excitedly but I often had to remind myself that, even though I felt like I had just put on someone else' shoes, God had been clear in His calling. We did it, all of us, for five years.<br />
<br />
But, as you know, the dynamics of our family began to dictate a reevaluation of this decision. Was it still right for everyone? As much as I wanted everyone to LOVE homeschooling and work together as one sweet, happy family that was no longer the case. After much research and prayer (and prayer and research!) we decided to allow our two oldest children to go to a local school. A "brick and mortar" school.<br />
<br />
I can now tell you, without a doubt, that we made the right decision. Praise. God.<br />
<br />
We all just finished our second week. I have had off-handed comments from other moms about our decision. Yes, the schedule is hard. Yes, we don't love waking up at the crack of dawn to be at school by 7:30. (We are all night owls...every last one!) But my three still at home are getting started with their daily schooling by 8:00 as a result and finishing up by early afternoon, leaving time for important things like <i>playing </i>before we pick up the teens. And, let me tell you, despite the fear that I haven't prepared them enough or that they might be behind my teens are doing ok. They are adjusting and happy because THIS IS WHAT THEY WANTED. <br />
<br />
<i>And isn't that the heart of homeschooling? </i> To teach our kids to make good decisions and walk with confidence? To overcome difficulty and have the initiative to get their butts out of bed and work hard? To know HOW to learn, when to ask for help, and that there are authority figures beside Mom and Dad who do truly care and will go out of their way to help if you just treat them with kindness and respect and show initiative? I didn't expect to watch them do this until closer to college, but it is happening now. Despite the struggles to adjust and tense moments in the car after a long day when they are tired, don't feel like conversation, and still have homework looming, they are determined to do this thing and do it well. That makes me proud. I think they are going to thrive. I think God will have more room to work with me stepping back from the role of teacher and just being their mom. For us, for now, for these two, this was right. As with homeschooling, we are taking this year by year. Life holds no guarantees, so we would be foolish to plan any further ahead.<br />
<br />
Homeschoolers do what we do because we believe it is the best thing for our child at any given time. But we also have to know when it is NOT the best thing. Sometimes, it is not. And do you know what makes me especially thankful? That we have a choice. <br />
<br />
Now for my three still <strike>at my mercy</strike> in my classroom, I cannot begin to tell you what an incredible year we are already having! For the first time, I decided to buy a "all-in-one" curriculum. We are using Heart of Dakota "Preparing Hearts for His Glory" along with Time 4 Learning Language arts (for the 3rd graders), Spelling-U-See, Handwriting Without Tears and Teaching Textbooks Math. It has been a JOY to teach this year using HOD's unit studies approach. My kids are absorbing information like sponges, becoming adept at poetry appreciation, interpreting Scripture, making beautiful works of art, along with copywork and narration that go along with the weekly units. I feel like this year will be extra sweet for them as I have these hours to pour into them while my teens are happily where they want to be. Laughter fills our classroom, excitement over the accomplishments of their siblings, and happy playtime ensues at the end of the day when the teens come home and Mom is available to help them with homework if needed. <br />
<br />
Yes, the schedule is hard. But this year, it is right. I am thankful. And I hope that, if you are struggling with deciding what to do for your children regarding their education or, really, <i>anything</i> that you will be encouraged. There is no one right decision. Every kid is so different. Let God show you what is best for them now, today, and be willing to accept if it looks different that what you expected. Sometimes different is better!<br />
<br />
And coffee.<br />
<br />
Definitely coffee.<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-13851042741096740882015-08-21T13:44:00.002-05:002015-08-21T13:44:46.721-05:00Fearing<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I have a basket beside my bed that is full of books. Unread books. They are the books I intend to "get to" one of these days, but the pile unfortunately grows fast than I can read them.<br />
<br />
Hello, my name is Jeanine and I am a book hoarder.<br />
<br />
I have grand ideas as far as my ability to find time to read, but reality doesn't line up. 5 kids, homeschooling 3 of them, everyone being shuffled from one place to another AT THE SAME TIME. Yeah, I really should start listening to audio books in the car...but the <i>noise from the peanut gallery.</i> Not practical. Not now.<br />
<br />
Anywho,<br />
So I grabbed my copy of Longing for Paris by Sarah Mae, which I am currently reading and <i>really</i> enjoying so far, and cast a quick glance at the others. There is one, in particular, that I am avoiding: The Hardest Peace by Kara Tippets. It is about a woman who died recently...her offering to those of us who would be left behind. Encouragement, I'm sure. Perhaps a warning? I don't know because I haven't read it yet. Now, I bought Longing for Paris AFTER this book, so why am I not reading The Hardest Peace first?<br />
<br />
Because the thought of picking up that book and actually reading it scares me.<br />
<br />
There. I said it. I didn't really realize it until about an hour ago, when my friend posted on Facebook that she was reading this exact book. Coincidence? I think not.<br />
<br />
Do you ever worry that God is preparing you for something awful? Like if you hear a story on the radio or TV and you pray, "Dear God, please don't let that happen to me or anyone I love." I think that is what is holding me back...the fear that, if I let myself go there and imagine my family having to move on without me that I will have invited the worst to happen.<br />
<br />
Yes, I know that is a dumb thing to think. I don't believe in Karma or luck (good <i>or </i>bad) so to say I am afraid of what will happen if I read books like this is stupid, right? But I have a dear friend who just got diagnosed with cancer. Another whose child suffers countless numbers of seizures every day. Another whose child just walked away from their faith and family and is knee-deep in Eastern Mysticism.<br />
<br />
<i>Sigh</i>. This world is beating us to a pulp. I watched the sixth planned parenthood video and wept as a newborn baby struggled for its last seconds of life after being aborted. A godly woman who has spoken loudly and clearly about the times in which we live, obeying her Lord regardless of what the culture throws at her, is now about to bury her beloved husband. There is bad news everywhere. It is getting worse by the day. I am not naive enough to think I won't be touched by it.<br />
<br />
So I found myself avoiding the hard books. I tried to live as though I believe God is good and has good plans for me, but the "Fearings" <span style="font-size: x-small;">(read Hinds Feet on High Places by Hannah Hurnard and you will understand this reference)</span> have been chasing me down and I have been guilty of listening to their whispers in the night, of avoiding the blessing of what God will do in the midst of hard because I don't want to endure hardship. I want life easy. <br />
<br />
But God has never called anyone to easy. Serving Him means I am diving headfirst into the deep-end of life. And even if I don't read that book, I'm in the middle of hard. So I can pretend that I am able to avoid the hard stuff and not read that book...<br />
or I can read it an maybe, just maybe, gain strength and vision for tomorrow from someone who did endure the unspeakable and has something to teach me.<br />
<br />
Ignorance, it turns out, is not always bliss.<br />
<br />
So, ok God. I hear you. I am putting it next in line. <br />
<br />
Question: What are you avoiding? </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-2338016073918959472015-08-08T10:35:00.002-05:002015-08-08T10:35:44.597-05:00Survival of the Fittest (a post for all of us who braved Tax-Free Weekend)<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
I stood at the mouth of the school supply section in Target, heart pounding.<br />
<br />
"I can do this. I mean, look at all these people...how hard can it be? It's just pencils, pens, folders..."<br />
<br />
I took a deep breath and stepped in to the crowded aisle with my cell-phone in hand. I had 6 emails from four different teachers with the necessities my teens will need for the year. School starts Monday. I really could have used this list weeks ago before, you know, the craziness of tax-free weekend.<br />
<br />
Because, y'all, I would rather pay <i>tax </i>than face THIS...<br />
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<br />
But here I was, 3 days before school starts and these people are <i>intense</i>. There are no traffic laws in the school supply section. No right lane or passing lane or even designated parking. No, these people went all third-world on me and I would not have been surprised to see a donkey cross the aisle.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcWvHQzitG0fxp-PTCcH1_abhGr0V1PH5H2vD2v4IBjY7zRM3lVb7AXwdmR6BvxR0uu0nPzuwnn2iPhtl3De58hwnTVLKQdQOGCUeixcAiEU-K5uTEv3DdZMSBRahl4i0PUF429SwuQ8w/s1600/donkeys.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcWvHQzitG0fxp-PTCcH1_abhGr0V1PH5H2vD2v4IBjY7zRM3lVb7AXwdmR6BvxR0uu0nPzuwnn2iPhtl3De58hwnTVLKQdQOGCUeixcAiEU-K5uTEv3DdZMSBRahl4i0PUF429SwuQ8w/s320/donkeys.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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I quickly wove through the crowd and chose the items on the lists. I was determined to get out with my ankles intact. I have homeschooled for FIVE years. I intentionally avoided tax-free weekend just like I avoid Black Friday! I have the next year's curriculum planned out by the end of May and all supplies in place by July. This weekend? It is for crazies.</div>
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Today, I was in the thick of crazy.</div>
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I checked out without injury and put my purchases in the trunk. I drove home, thinking that surely...<i>surely</i>...I would not need to make any more trips.</div>
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I was wrong.</div>
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Three more emails came late Friday afternoon. WHAT THE????</div>
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I sighed. I can probably wait until after the weekend, but what if my kids are the only ones whose loser parents didn't get all their stuff before Monday? That could result in social ostracization or, worse, <i>sympathy stares.</i> I can't do that to them. They are nervous enough! So back out I went...this time to Wal-Mart.</div>
<br />
I. Die.<br />
<br />
The school supply aisle is trashed. Stuff on the floor, name-brand colored pencils SOLD OUT. People wandering with lists in their hands and blank stares, barely able to mumble "excuse me" when they collide head-on with the other moms who look like they just want coffee...or wine. <br />
<br />
Or coffee <i>and </i>wine.<br />
<br />
I began limping because, apparently, the stress had depleted my body of something and I had a TOE CRAMP. You know, the one where your middle toe involuntarily begins to point painfully downward and we have all been told to eat a banana when that happens? There was no stinking way I was going to limp all the way across the store to the banana section. I kicked off my shoe and massaged the offending toe, willing it to relax.<br />
<br />
Then I had a thought.<br />
<br />
<i>What about the office supply section?</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
6 aisles back it stood. Y'all...it was virtually EMPTY. Rows and rows of binders, folders, pens and pencils still neatly arranged and the aisles were clear! <br />
<br />
Has no one else realized this but me? Surely I'm not the only one? But there it stood...beautiful and bare. I selected my items, the toe finally relaxed and started walking toward the checkout when...<br />
<br />
"<i>buzz buzz"</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
Oh no. <i>OH NO YOU DIDN'T.</i><br />
<i><br /></i>
There it was. Email number 10...another school supply list. I silently thanked God that I had not yet paid and went straight back to the glory of the office supply section and put the final purchases in my basket. I've got this. I'm gold. I am outta here.<br />
<br />
I checked out, fought the urge to curl up in the fetal position and suck my thumb, and went home. We spent the next hour figuring out which thing was for which class for what kid and I sat down next to my husband after dinner to decompress when...<br />
<br />
"<i>buzz buzz</i>"<br />
<br />
I. Can't. Even. <br />
<br />
We apparently need a scientific calculator for Algebra. <i>Hello, Amazon Prime. </i><br />
<br />
"click"<br />
<br />
It will be here Monday. <br />
<br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-31703142758150087212015-07-29T15:37:00.001-05:002015-07-29T15:48:21.716-05:00Our Babies<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">It's all over the news. Planned Parenthood wants nothing to do with actual parenthood. They are agents of death, murder, and deceit. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>(If you have not seen the footage, I encourage you to go to <a href="http://centerformedicalprogress.org/">centerformedicalprogress.org</a>.) </i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">They are not here to help women, but to use them and their crisis pregnancies for profit and here is the thing that keeps running through my head:</span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Those of us who have built our families through adoption should be screaming the loudest.</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">These babies are <i>our babies</i>. These babies are the victims of an industry that tells young women that they are better off allowing a doctor to dismember and suction the parts of their unborn child out of their womb and sell their organs for "research" than to carry that baby to term, love it, nurture it, and then place it into the arms of a family who <i>longs</i> to parent that baby and will honor her for her loving sacrifice that gave her child LIFE and a FUTURE.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">How is this being successfully marketed?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Where is the outcry against the lies that are being told to young women, sentencing them to a lifetime of regret, trauma, and grief? Why are we, as adoptive families, not leading the charge against the holocaust against our children?</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“Because of <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22521U" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22521U" title="See cross-reference U">U</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>violence to your brother Jacob,</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="text Obad-1-10" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; position: relative;">You will be covered <span style="box-sizing: border-box;">with</span> shame,</span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="text Obad-1-10" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">
</span><span class="text Obad-1-10" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"></span></i>
</span><br />
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<i><span class="text Obad-1-10" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; position: relative;">And you will be cut off forever.</span></i></div>
<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Obad-1-10" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">
<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22521V" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22521V" title="See cross-reference V">V</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span><span class="text Obad-1-11" id="en-NASB-22522" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span></span></span></i><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i><span class="text Obad-1-11" id="en-NASB-22522" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; position: relative;"><span class="text Obad-1-11" id="en-NASB-22522" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">“On the day that you <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22522W" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22522W" title="See cross-reference W">W</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>stood aloof,</span>On the day that strangers carried off his wealth,</span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i><span class="text Obad-1-11" id="en-NASB-22522" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">
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<i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And foreigners entered his gate</span></i></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i style="line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Obad-1-11" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; position: relative;">And <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22522X" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22522X" title="See cross-reference X">X</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>cast lots for Jerusalem—</span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Obad-1-11" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">
</span><span class="text Obad-1-11" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"></span></i>
</span><br />
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<i style="line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Obad-1-11" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; position: relative;">You too were as one of them.</span></i></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i style="line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Obad-1-11" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: xx-small; position: relative;">
<span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22522Y" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22522Y" title="See cross-reference Y">Y</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span></span></i><span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"><i> </i></span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; position: relative;">
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<span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">“For the <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22526AF" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22526AF" title="See cross-reference AF">AF</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>day of the <span class="small-caps" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> draws near on all the nations.</span></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">
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<span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">As you have done, it will be done to you.</span></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">
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<span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Your <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22526AH" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22526AH" title="See cross-reference AH">AH</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>dealings will return on your own head."</span></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">
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<span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></i></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">
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<span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><i><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Obadiah 10, 11, 15</span></i></span></div>
<span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; position: relative;">
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<span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span class="text Obad-1-12" id="en-NASB-22523" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Look at your children, my friends. Imagine what would have been if Planned Parenthood had intercepted our precious birthmothers and convinced them to believe their lies. Imagine your babies at the hands of a suction machine. Imagine what your family would look like if your birthmother had not bravely chosen life, to walk through her pregnancy regardless of how uncertain her future looked, to lovingly make a plan for her baby that included LIFE. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">With YOU.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">How are we not on our faces before the Lord over this? How do we put a face on abortion and expose the lies that have taken over and destroyed the moral fabric of our country? </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Most of us have been silent. We have led puny quick-prayer lives instead of spending solemn hours in prayer and fasting. I am so guilty of this. All around us lives are being destroyed...ripped apart limb by limb and sold to the highest bidder and the young woman who, out of desperation, believes the lie is left to wrestle with what she has allowed and mark every year, every due date, with unspeakable grief. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">These are <u>our babies</u>. <i>Get mad, church!</i> Get on your knees and weep. Get out your phone and call. Get out your Bible and pray for mercy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Lord, hear our cry. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></div>
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<div style="line-height: 24px; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><i>Consecrate</i><i> a fast,</i></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">Proclaim a <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22306AF" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22306AF" title="See cross-reference AF">AF</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>solemn assembly;</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">
</span><span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">Gather the elders</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">
</span><span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><span style="box-sizing: border-box;">And</span> all the inhabitants of the land</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">
</span><span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">To the house of the <span class="small-caps" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> your God,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">
</span><span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"></span>
</span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">And <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22306AG" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22306AG" title="See cross-reference AG">AG</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>cry out to the <span class="small-caps" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span>.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Joel-1-14" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">
</span><span class="text Joel-1-15" id="en-NASB-22307" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-style: italic; position: relative;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.4em; line-height: 22px; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></span><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; display: block; font-weight: bold; left: -4.4em; position: absolute; text-align: center; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"><br /></span></span><span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"></span></span><br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">For the <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22307AI" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22307AI" title="See cross-reference AI">AI</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>day of the <span class="small-caps" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-variant: small-caps;">Lord</span> is near,</span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: x-small; font-style: italic; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">
</span><span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"></span>
</span><br />
<div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">And it will come as <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-22307AJ" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-22307AJ" title="See cross-reference AJ">AJ</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>destruction from the Almighty</span></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">
</span>
</span><br />
<div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;"><br /></span></span></div>
<span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large; line-height: 24px; position: relative;">
</span>
<div style="font-style: italic; text-align: center;">
<span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">Joel 1:14-15</span></span></div>
<span class="text Joel-1-15" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Verdana, Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px; position: relative;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: large;">
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-9198459118668467902015-06-17T21:57:00.001-05:002015-06-17T22:21:37.654-05:00Called by Name <div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Rom-8-18" id="en-NASB-28135" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span><i>For I consider that the sufferings of this present time <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28135AJ" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28135AJ" title="See cross-reference AJ">AJ</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>are not worthy to be compared with the <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28135AK" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28135AK" title="See cross-reference AK">AK</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>glory that is to be revealed to us.</i></span><i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Rom-8-19" id="en-NASB-28136" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>For the <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28136AL" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28136AL" title="See cross-reference AL">AL</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>anxious longing of the creation waits eagerly for <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28136AM" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28136AM" title="See cross-reference AM">AM</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>the revealing of the <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28136AN" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28136AN" title="See cross-reference AN">AN</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>sons of God.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Rom-8-20" id="en-NASB-28137" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>For the creation <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28137AO" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28137AO" title="See cross-reference AO">AO</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>was subjected to <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28137AP" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28137AP" title="See cross-reference AP">AP</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>futility, not willingly, but <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28137AQ" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28137AQ" title="See cross-reference AQ">AQ</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>because of Him who subjected it, in hope</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Rom-8-21" id="en-NASB-28138" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>that <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28138AR" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28138AR" title="See cross-reference AR">AR</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>the creation itself also will be set free from its slavery to corruption into the freedom of the glory of the children of God.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 22px;"><b> </b></span><span class="text Rom-8-22" id="en-NASB-28139" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;">For we know that the whole creation <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28139AS" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28139AS" title="See cross-reference AS">AS</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>groans and suffers the pains of childbirth together until now.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Rom-8-23" id="en-NASB-28140" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28140AT" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28140AT" title="See cross-reference AT">AT</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>And not only this, but also we ourselves, having <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28140AU" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28140AU" title="See cross-reference AU">AU</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28140AV" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28140AV" title="See cross-reference AV">AV</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>groan within ourselves, <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28140AW" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28140AW" title="See cross-reference AW">AW</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>waiting eagerly for <span style="box-sizing: border-box;">our</span> adoption as sons, <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28140AX" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28140AX" title="See cross-reference AX">AX</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>the redemption of our body.</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Rom-8-24" id="en-NASB-28141" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>For <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28141AY" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28141AY" title="See cross-reference AY">AY</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>in hope we have been saved, but <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28141AZ" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28141AZ" title="See cross-reference AZ">AZ</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>hope that is seen is not hope; for who hopes for what he <span style="box-sizing: border-box;">already</span> sees?</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="text Rom-8-25" id="en-NASB-28142" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="versenum" style="box-sizing: border-box; font-weight: bold; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"> </span>But <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28142BA" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28142BA" title="See cross-reference BA">BA</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>if we hope for what we do not see, with perseverance we wait eagerly for it. (Romans 8:18-25)</span></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><i><br /></i></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><i><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">“Do not <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-18507C" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-18507C" title="See cross-reference C">C</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>fear, for I have <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-18507D" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-18507D" title="See cross-reference D">D</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>redeemed you;</span><br style="box-sizing: border-box;" /><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">I have <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-18507E" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-18507E" title="See cross-reference E">E</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>called you by name; you are <span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-18507F" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-18507F" title="See cross-reference F">F</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span>Mine!</span></i></span></span><br />
<span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif; font-size: small; position: relative;"><i>(Isaiah 43:1b)</i></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">Summer busyness has occupied my every waking moment. Sports, dance, recitals, tournaments, camps...the crazy has overwhelmed me and finally, this past weekend, peaked and seems to have died away. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">And not a moment too soon.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">Summer always passes quickly, even more so this year for me as I count down to the return of my oldest two to "real school" or "<i>school</i> school." I look at my kids, those spreading their wings and those who will stay safely in our nest for a while longer, and marvel at how far removed we are from those baby and toddler years. I miss those days of chubby hands and slobbery kisses, but I try not to dwell on what is behind and focus in on the here and now. </span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">Now...right now 3 of my five and a best friend are splashing happily in the pool during a noisy night swim. Squeals and loud commands echo across the yard as fireflies light up the night. It is magical. As they swim, I work on a Bible study that I had begun some time ago and am struck by a verse in Romans that I have read many times but which took on a whole new life tonight.</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;"><br /></span></span>
<span class="text Rom-8-25" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; background-color: white; box-sizing: border-box; font-size: 16px; line-height: 24px;"><span class="text Isa-43-1" style="-webkit-font-smoothing: antialiased; box-sizing: border-box; position: relative;">...</span></span><i><b><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">but also we ourselves, having</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28140AU" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28140AU" title="See cross-reference AU">AU</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">the first fruits of the Spirit, even we ourselves</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28140AV" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28140AV" title="See cross-reference AV">AV</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">groan within ourselves,</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28140AW" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28140AW" title="See cross-reference AW">AW</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">waiting eagerly for</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 24px;">our</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">adoption as sons,</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"> </span><span class="crossreference" data-cr="#cen-NASB-28140AX" data-link="(<a href="#cen-NASB-28140AX" title="See cross-reference AX">AX</a>)" style="box-sizing: border-box; line-height: 22px; position: relative; top: 0px; vertical-align: top;"></span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">the redemption of our body.</span></b></i></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><i><b><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></b></i>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">I think about how my kids work through their understandings of who they are and whose they are, how they wrestle with their identities within our family and within the family of God. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">How, when questions are asked and the curiosity of strangers stings and feels threatening, they look to me for clues as to how they should respond. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">How they often mimic the behaviors of friends, both positive and negative, when looking for acceptance. Even mannerisms and speech patterns will change in an effort to identify with someone whose approval they seek. If it happens in my presence, their motive is very telling because they will look at me quickly out of the corner of their eye as if to see if I notice and what reaction, if any, I will have. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">That is so like us as children of God, is it not? </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">But all it takes is an eye-to-eye encounter and words of truth spoken clearly...</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="line-height: 24px;">"You are a (insert last name here). That is not who you are. Our family does (this) not (that)."</span></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">Oh, the power in those words. Sometimes I can almost see them, like an arrow straight to their hearts, break apart the tension and reset their behavior. Who we are dictates our behavior, but our behavior does NOT dictate who we are.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">Is that not the most reassuring thing you have ever heard?</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">We are the part longing for the whole. We groan under the weight of the world, fighting the pressures to be something they will accept, to be just enough "Christian" to fit in the church scene yet not so "Christian" that we are ridiculed or rejected for being different or (gasp!) judgemental. But our Father, who has redeemed us, who has called us by name...he takes our face in His hands and he says,</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><b>"My darling, that is not who you are. You are part of my family. You are set apart. Don't try to win the approval of a world who rejects me. My approval is the only one you need to seek, <i>and you already have it</i>. Live the life I have given you. Only then will others see the truth of who I am, for if they follow the version of me that you are creating they are not following <u>me</u> at all."</b></span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">I look at the beautiful brown faces around my table and I sigh. Adoption is so beautiful, yet often so hard whether it is earthly adoption or our adoption as sons and daughters of the King. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">As parents we focus so much on building character in our kids, but when I look at these verses I see that character is the result of perseverance! Perseverance is the result of enduring difficulties and trials, from which I so often want to shield my kids. As much as I would love to keep them from struggling with their stories or walking through the normal stages of grief I am reminded that God, though He protects us, does not shelter us. He walks with us every step of the way, which is exactly what I strive to do for my children. They are mine, sharing my name and under my protection. My goal is to raise them up to be confident in where God has placed them in this world, to pursue Jesus and serve Him all of their days. God's goal is to make them like Jesus which means they must endure suffering. </span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">If only we could see the hope for which we long...but then again, as Paul says, hope that is seen is not really hope at all. Hoping for what we cannot see...the end result that awaits us when we are all forever home...that requires perseverance. And just look at Romans 5:4! </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">This verse says clearly that perseverance produces </span><i style="line-height: 24px;">character...</i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">which produces </span><i style="line-height: 24px;">HOPE. </i><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">It is all connected. One cannot exist without the others. If we are His, we will struggle. But if we are His, He will gently remind us during the struggle that there is so much more to the story He is writing over us. Yes, He calls us by name...His name.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">Today, if you are reading this, I hope you see the truth in the words of Scripture. Nothing you can do will separate you from the love of your Father, <u>if</u> you have indeed been adopted into His family. You are His, irrevocably. The adoption papers were signed with blood and you have been given a new name in Christ. If you struggle to believe that, I encourage you to search the scriptures for yourself and let God prove His Father heart towards you. If you have surrendered your life to Jesus, then you are His, whether you act like it or not. But if you <i>do</i> act like it...now that opens up a whole new can of worms. He will take you along for the adventure of a lifetime.</span></span><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-34945027999071712752015-05-06T21:09:00.001-05:002015-05-06T22:45:24.035-05:00Change is in the air<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Three of my five babes splash happily and loudly in the pool. Dogs pant on the damp pavement and the sun sets behind the tall trees. Summer is coming quickly and I, for one, could not be happier about it.<br />
<br />
Our school year is almost over. 5 years spent teaching at home. Books filling shelves and legos clicking as I read aloud the newest adventure. Things are changing. Next year will not be the same.<br />
<br />
The teenagers want to spread their wings. I can't blame them and certainly will not deny them the opportunity. After wrestling with God and, truthfully, my pride we decided on a school that seems to line up with our philosophy of education...putting God first and scores second. The teens are excited and nervous (as the tuition deposit has been paid and they are hereby <i>committed!)</i> and "senior-itis" regarding homeschooling has made the past few months challenging, to say the least.<br />
<br />
I poured my heart out one Autumn evening to a dear friend who is ten years ahead of me in the parenting game. She was exactly who I needed to set my heart at ease. <br />
"It's ok," she said. "You have to do what is right for each particular child. You only answer to God for how you raise your kids, not to other parents. His opinion is the only one that matters. There is no one right way to do school. My oldest thrived in public school and had a great circle of Christian friends. No matter what type of school you choose, there are no guarantees!" <br />
I may have talked her ear off for two hours, spilling my guts, wiping away tears and hanging on her every wise word. This precious woman who has raised three incredible, sold-out Jesus followers...I trust her. She helped me swing the pendulum in my heart back into center, to find balance and tune out the voices who "know it all" but really don't know my kids at all. <br />
<br />
This letting go process of my oldest children has been more difficult than I imagined. Protecting my babies, guiding them to know right from wrong, has been my strength. But that level of protections is not possible and probably not healthy now. It is time for them to put into practice what we have taught them at home while they are still under our roof. We still have a lot of parenting to do, believe you me, but it is so different as they near adulthood. The parenting has changed, as have the potential consequences (both good AND bad) of their decisions. <br />
<br />
I have to honor their wishes, knowing that come Christmas they may be begging to homeschool again...but maybe not. <br />
Because they just might love it. <br />
They just might thrive.<br />
I just might not have been an awesome high-school homeschooling mom, at least not for them. <br />
And that just might be ok.<br />
<br />
Reactions to the news have been mostly positive, but there have been a few...snarky ones. And that is where I struggle. You see, us homeschooling mamas, we put so much blood, sweat, and tears into this venture. Many of us begin the journey scared to death, but then settle in and love it. So it is really hard when it stops being the best choice for a child and the season ends. It is hard when the teens want to move on...which is completely normal for teens to do but not easy on a mama's heart. It is hard when identity issues threaten their joy and they. just. want. to. be. normal. They, just. want. to. fit. in. And homeschooling in their circles is <i>not </i>the norm. They want a posse, a crowd, a teen scene. I want to put them in a bubble until they are 30, but we all know that would be a bad move. So what's an overprotective mama to do? We seek out the best, the scene that is safe but fun, that will stretch them and grow them, hopefully without breaking them or turning away their hearts. We seek relationship over philosophy and let them go back to school because it is what they long for and that doesn't mean we have failed. <br />
In fact, maybe it means we did our job.<br />
Maybe it means God is preparing for a big move in their hearts and the next spiritual growth spurt won't happen until there is major change and challenge and nerves causing their hearts to race as they walk through those glass double doors into a classroom full of their peers. <br />
<br />
Whatever happens, God has given me absolute peace that this is right, at least for now and for them. For the younger three? We are taking this homeschool adventure year-by-year, but they are looking forward to next year. I have changes in mind for them as well, though not nearly so drastic. Sensory, auditory, and visual processing issues have reared their stubborn heads and I have been in major research mode in order to figure out the very best plan for my youngest ones. How to help them realize they are truly smart, just not the same way other kids are smart? How to teach them and make it fun and not frustrating? How to help them want to overcome the hurdles that look so intimidating and rise to the challenge? This year will have to be different in order for them to reach their potential. Distractions will be minimized and field trips will be often. Visual and right-brain learning techniques will be our new focus and we will major on the majors and minor on the minors. Therapists will be enlisted and homeschool enrichment that occurs on a local farm will be the highlight of our week. The big kids will be happy and safe in "real" school and the littles will get the full brunt of mama's teaching research. And then, after we have survived another carpool line and the teens have done their homework? I pray, then, that there will be lots of stories to share and joy to be found in this new normal. I have joked, lately, that my youngers are looking forward to more field trips and less eyerolling. (Ok...that may not be a joke!) But, honestly, we all look forward to everyone doing what they are called to do. I pray for hearts to be content, for friends to be encouragers, and for wisdom as we take this next big step. <br />
<br />
I often hash-tag #homeschoolrocks. And it does. But even better than homeschooling is knowing that the Lord is the keeper of their hearts and the author and perfecter of their faith! He is bigger than educational philosophy and cultural norms or expectations. Yes, <u>that <i>totally</i> rocks!</u><br />
<br />
So, to my babes who are so anxious to spread their wings...your mama loves you so. The past five years have been a gift. But I am also excited for you because you are going to love the next few years. At least I hope you do. May the Lord bless you with heart-friends that point you to Jesus. May you find your passion. May you feel His wisdom and knowledge filling your mind as you work hard to learn and grow. May you know how wide and deep and high and long is the love of Jesus for you and shine His light into this dark world. Yes, my beloved ones, I pray you will be a light for Jesus, even amidst our Christian culture.<br />
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Rock on, my sweet kids! #rockon!<br />
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-33169770781634017052015-04-12T00:43:00.000-05:002015-04-12T00:43:00.635-05:00Don't ask me to write a book on parenting.<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Back in the day, when my babes were babies and my biggest challenge was pottytraining, I was pretty confident as a mom. I had read the books, done the research, and was going to raise up these kids correctly in the name of Jesus and watch the fruit ripen as they neared adulthood. I had it figured out.<br />
<br />
But there was one problem. <br />
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My kids were not robots. They could not be programmed, no matter how babywise I was at growing them God's way. I shepherded their hearts, I romanced their hearts, and I creatively corrected. I prayed and trained and counseled and taught them how to share. They are very good kids, beautiful and smart and polite to the n'th degree to any adult who crosses their paths. They are loyal friends and funny as can be. But God has done a massive work of humbling in this mama's heart as my kids have entered the teen years. No matter how much I trained, sheltered, coached and homeschooled there are some massive struggles that are just going to be part of their experience. Identity, body image, race, navigating relationships, why they are here, who they are in Christ; these are huge issues for any child but even more magnified in kids who have experienced early loss. <br />
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My kids are sinners. So are yours. They are enticed by the world and resisting the influence of this almost godless culture is extremely difficult. The generation that is now in the teen years could be the most narcissistic generation in history. Just think about it. I can prove that point in one word.<br />
<br />
#selfies<br />
<br />
Need I say more?<br />
<br />
Our teenagers are barraged almost constantly by tiny images playing across tiny screens, telling them to pose just so, make life look fun and perfect, and the more "likes" you get the more popular you must be. We have never had a generation like the one coming behind us and, frankly, WE HAVE NO FRIGGIN' IDEA WHAT WE ARE DOING.<br />
<br />
The parenting books don't deal with this. Even the ones that mention it are only working out of theory because WE DON'T KNOW the long-term effect that the social media culture is going to have on our kids as they become adults. We just don't know. <br />
<br />
My kids have firm boundaries around their phone/internet use. As they get older we plan to gradually loosen those boundaries in order for them to develop their own sense of discernment regarding social media. (Don't think I haven't considered going Amish just to avoid the whole modern technology thing. Thankfully my hubby's love of cable TV sports nipped that idea in the bud!) But the fact is, after all of this research and i-blood, i-sweat, and i-tears my kids could hit 18, say "see ya'" and be out the door and on the first porn site they can get their hands on. <br />
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That, my internet friends, scares the crap out of me.<br />
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I don't have an answer. I can't guarantee anything we are doing in our home is going to work and that they will turn out ok. And neither can you. We are treading in unknown territory and it is driving me to my knees on a whole new level. Not only do I pray for purity in the lives of my children, I pray for their protection against online predators, for them to have a desire for the things of God and a complete aversion to the things of the world. I continue to set firm boundaries and enforce a sense of propriety in how they contact friends and members of the opposite sex. But I have also had to step back and shut my preachy mouth because, the truth is, only God can make them want what is right.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"For it is God who works in you, to will and to act according to His good purpose." Phil. 2:13</i></span><br />
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Do I believe this? That He will work in my children, that He will make them want what He wants and get true satisfaction from obedience to Him? I have to. It is my only hope as I raise my children in this crooked and depraved generation. I admit I have read lots of parenting books. I am a researcher by nature, but I have learned to pick and choose what seems right for my family at the time and not buy in to the latest philosophy or parenting fad. No matter how many key phrases I have memorized and ready to apply in the teachable moments, only God can speak to the deepest places in the hearts of my children. Sometimes the best thing I can do is get out of His way and, though it may be painful to watch, let Him do the hard heart-work that needs to be done in order to refine my kids and make them more like Christ just like He did when I was a teen and young adult. I imagine my mama could blame me for a few of her gray hairs (though I'm sure MOST of them were from my brother!) but she never preached or lost it when we screwed up. I imagine she spent many hours on her knees for us. <br />
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I can do no less for my children.<br />
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This parenting season is HARD, much harder than I ever imagined. I feel the clock ticking on their years at home and the pressure to do it right and well can be overwhelming. I want them to love me, to come home often for holidays and weekends when they are in college, to look back on their childhood with sweet feelings of love and acceptance, to know that they are the five greatest gifts I have ever been given and that their father and I have got their back no matter what. But I also don't want to parent out of fear, which is a struggle for me. Despite the ticking clock, I have to live for today and for eternity. I have to honor God above all. Only He can woo their hearts and make them want what only He can offer. <br />
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But don't think I won't snatch that phone out of their hot little hands when necessary! What in the world did our parents take away when we smarted off...our Ataris? Good grief. <br />
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<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-86469792338226604042015-04-06T20:18:00.000-05:002015-04-06T20:27:23.215-05:00Why Christians remind one another, "He is risen."<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
On Easter Sunday, a prominent young Christian posted a photo on Instagram. It was simple...just three words against a plain background:<br />
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"He is risen."<br />
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Many responses were supportive. Some were just weird. (You know how those social media comment sections are...there are some looney birds hanging out on their computers.) But one caught my attention. It was a comment that said, "I don't know why Christians continue to use that phrase. It is outdated and silly. We look at it and think it is just useless, meaningless."<br />
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I have chewed on that all day, realizing that, to a world that chooses to live apart from relationship with God, denying His very existence, it may truly seem silly, useless, meaningless.<br />
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So, whoever you are, I would like to explain why we use the phrase "He is risen" at Easter.<br />
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Christians have been persecuted for centuries. Early believers would find themselves in hiding, trying to survive waves of torture and death, trying to protect themselves and their families. Knowing who you could trust could be very difficult. But they came up with a symbol that was known only amongst the followers of Christ which enabled them to identify those who were a part of the brotherhood. <a href="http://www.christianitytoday.com/ch/asktheexpert/oct26.html" target="_blank">Christianitytoday.com </a>says:<br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 12px; line-height: 17.3333339691162px;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 17.3333339691162px;"><i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><b>When threatened by Romans in the first centuries after Christ, Christians used the fish to mark meeting places and tombs, or to distinguish friends from foes. According to one ancient story, when a Christian met a stranger in the road, the Christian sometimes drew one arc of the simple fish outline in the dirt. If the stranger drew the other arc, both believers knew they were in good company.</b></span></i></span><br />
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Not only was this smart, it was beautiful. Imagine the relief in the heart of a desperate, scared, on-edge follower of Christ when they drew one arc of the fish and the stranger beside them joyfully drew the other.<br />
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"He is risen" holds a similar significance to us today. Why? I can give you three reasons: <br />
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1. Because persecution is on the rise. Darkness is encroaching and taking over the world and we feel it crowding us together. Why would anyone hold to a "narrow" faith, a silly need for a supernatural Savior when the world tells us we can achieve a higher consciousness by looking deep within ourselves? Because, as the Christian recording artist and author, Andrew Peterson, often reminds us...<br />
<i><span style="font-size: large;"><br /></span></i>
<i><span style="font-size: large;">"The stories are true."</span></i><br />
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In other words, He IS risen. Our faith is not in vain. We hold to and are held by a real God whose real son died a real death and walked out of the grave ALIVE AND WELL. <br />
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2. We have seen the headlines, the beheadings, and most recently the slaughter of 147 precious children of God in Kenya...not because they were black, but SOLELY because they were followers of Jesus Christ. (Go <a href="http://pulse.ng/student/garissa-vs-charliehebdo-twitter-rages-over-poor-media-coverage-of-147-kenyan-university-students-massacre-id3627862.html" target="_blank">here</a> if you want more information, but I warn you the images are graphic. But sometimes we need to face the reality in order for us to fully realize what is going on.) We see these headlines (or the appalling lack thereof) and we know that the persecution is coming our way. We know there is a time coming when it will be our necks feeling the cold blade of the executioner, when we are told to reject Christ or die. <br />
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But He IS risen. He promises it will be worth it all and He proved it by regenerating his mutilated, dead body, folding his clothes neatly, and walking OUT of the TOMB. <br />
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3. We are watching the battle rage over our children and their genertion. We see how crafty the enemy is, how he is wooing and deceiving our young ones who want to just fit in...to just be normal. But we know normal is usually not Godly, normal is most often not Holy. We know the things that tempt our kids will destroy them if not placed under the authority of Jesus and, unless they KNOW who they are and Whose they are, unless they take hold of the FACT that Jesus conquered sin and death and walked away from it victorious, having been seen ALIVE and WELL by <u>over 500 witnesses</u>...unless our children can answer "He is risen" with a confident "He is risen, indeed!" they will not have what it takes to stand up to the incredible peer pressure all around them. <br />
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And, mamas, lest we forget...our faith is not in our parenting or any "how-to" book on raising kids. The battle is <i>painfully, blistering hot </i>and we will be tempted to run away from the heat without the Truth to protect us. He IS risen, His promises ARE true, we CAN trust Him, even with the most hardened teenager, the most critically ill child, or the most debilitating of special needs because HE IS FULLY AND COMPLETELY ALIVE. There is more to the tapestry that we cannot see on this side of Heaven, more to this life than what we are living in the present. We serve and obey a God who put His money where is mouth is...He gave it all, intentionally and freely, for us. Then, He walked out of that stinking grave clothed in clean linen with the scars to prove it to anyone who doubted. (Because He knew us. He knew we would doubt.)<br />
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<b>Is that not the most amazing, freeing, ridiculous, beautiful, sci-fi worthy thing you have ever heard? </b>I understand why you may think we are crazy! But you <i>need</i> to understand that we say "He is Risen" because we need to remind one another that the resurrection is the cornerstone of our faith. We can and, through the strength of the Holy Spirit, <i>will </i>endure. Yes, we know it sounds unbelievable, but if He is not risen we have no hope. If He is not risen we are wasting our time. The evidence, though is there. It is in history and in the Word of God. Research it for yourself. God understands your need for proof.<br />
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Jesus IS risen from the dead. I hang my hat on it. I hang my eternity and the eternities of my children on it. I hang my marriage and all of my friendships on it. He IS risen. Seek Him and I PROMISE you will find Him. <br />
<br />
The stories are true.<br />
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-12996066736608168722015-04-03T17:14:00.001-05:002015-04-03T17:14:51.901-05:00It was a dark and stormy night...<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The skies are darkening as the storm nears. I know many are praying it away, but I'm not. Don't get me wrong, I do NOT want a tornado. I know all too well the damage they can do. But thunder, lightning, trees bending in the wind? For some strange reason that sounds wonderful to me on this Good Friday.<div>
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I had high and lofty plans for today. We would start our day with lit candles, reading about the cross, solemn hearts reflecting on His sacrifice. Then, after child #3's speech therapy, I would run a quick errand and school would commence. Next, child #4 would go for his OT evaluation and I would come home to proofread essays, make dinner, and get our crew ready for the Good Friday service at church.</div>
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Yeah, that isn't exactly how the day went.</div>
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Oh, we made the appointments, the essays are written, but I have procrastinated and ignored the task I should do and they have not been proofread. I sat in my husband's office and played on my phone while my hubby did work on the computer and the kids screamed at each other upstairs. I have no idea if what they are wearing is appropriate, but apparently it is what they will wear to church because I am out here on my front porch typing this.</div>
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Correction: Child #4 just walked out here in mismatched, stained athletic clothes. Ok, he will have to change. I can't be that loose.</div>
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<i>Oh great, apparently there is a tornado warning in the next county. Whatever.</i></div>
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Anywho, suffice it to say today I have not been great at reflecting on Jesus. A Good Friday fail, if you will. So this crazy part of me thinks it would be perfect to end this day in a storm shelter wrapped in blankets with flashlights aglow, praying for safety. </div>
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Why?</div>
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Because in a weird way it parallels the world on that first Good Friday, when the sun hid its face and the curtain was torn in two, when the disciples huddled in fear because all hope seemed lost. It wouldn't be all bad, would it? </div>
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Yes, it is Friday. It is stormy and dark and hearts are afraid, <i>but just you wait.</i></div>
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Sunday's coming!</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-22260796417697040372015-04-02T22:06:00.000-05:002015-04-02T22:37:23.528-05:00Getting real. Wanna join me?<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Dear Reader,<br />
<br />
Oh, this blog.<br />
How many times have I recreated it? Changed the focus? Tried to find what the heck I want to write about? <br />
<br />
The truth is, I just want to write. I love it. But I have written myself into a corner by focusing too narrowly and not allowing myself freedom to hammer out whatever suits the moment. I want to glorify God, and I also want to laugh...maybe even giving you a good chuckle as well! Most days, my life doesn't look very inspirational. I have yelled at my kids, or I have ignored the laundry, or I have totally sucked at schooling and they all want to go to "real" school to get away from psycho mom.<br />
<br />
Yeah, that's the stuff I have stuffed because it didn't fit the focus of my blog.<br />
<br />
Don't get me wrong; God speaks so clearly sometimes, and I have shared those moments here. But sometimes I just can't believe what one of my kids said, or I read a really good book, or I want to show you the real me...dirty dishes and all. <br />
<br />
So, once again, I am piddling with new blog buttons and headers and thinking about what I really want to say to you. I want to shout grace, I want to say "I get you! We need each other! We can't do this mothering thing alone!" I want to tell you about the whiny day my 8 year old had and get an "amen." I need to tell you how my teenager said that thing that I swore before kids <i>my kid would never say to me</i> and get reassurance that they will still come home for Christmas when they are grown. I would love to share how I looked at myself in the mirror and realize there is a good reason I am no longer getting carded when I order a margarita. <br />
<br />
Yikes.<br />
<br />
And I want to continue reminding all of us that God is right here, present in the midst of this messy season of life. That He speaks and moves and we can trust Him even when we don't trust ourselves.<br />
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So here I am, starting fresh again. I will decare the glory of God, and I will share all the stories and weirdness flittering about in this sleep-deprived, caffeine-dependent, overwhelmed brain of mine. I hope you will stick around. I especially hope you will share your stuff as well! It is so much more fun if I don't do all the talking. Let's hang over a cup of coffee and help each other through the hard days. Let's rejoice over the small victories and cry together when all of our dreams are teetering on the edge of destruction. Life is so much better together. <br />
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Love, Jeanine</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-4613482809282903242015-03-25T23:34:00.001-05:002015-03-25T23:34:28.473-05:00Get it Right<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
Six baskets of laundry cluttered my bedroom floor. I have walked past them for days. It is ridiculous. My husband hasn't said a word, but surely he would like to walk through our bedroom without sidestepping through the obstacle course. <div>
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The problem is, I've had a sickie. My sweet ten-year-old spiked a 103 degree temp on Monday and, though the antibiotics are helping, she is still quite puny. And this one, when she is puny, stays close to her mama.</div>
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Which, in turn, makes her mama very happy. It also means I got very little done in the way of housework. (And by housework I mean keeping it sanitary and somewhat un-scary to the unsuspecting, unannounced visitor!)</div>
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Today she seemed to be feeling better. The kids spent the afternoon outside in the (hallelujah!) sunshine and I thought maybe, just maybe, I could get to that laundry. I checked my phone and stopped. All over the internet, posts about <a href="http://mundanefaithfulness.com/" target="_blank">Kara Tippetts</a> circulated and I clicked on a link. Immediately I remembered reading her letter to Brittany Maynard back in the Fall, begging Brittany to reconsider her decision to end her life because she was dying of brain cancer. Kara, too, was dying. But Kara had found beauty and grace in suffering, and she wanted Brittany and others like her to find the same.</div>
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Kara went home to Jesus on the 22nd. I never met her, never read her blog, but I felt so sad. She had four young children. She was only 38 years old.</div>
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38.</div>
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She wanted time. Oh, she loved Jesus. She knew what awaited her immediately upon leaving her cancer-ridden body, but still she wanted time. Her husband and children are young. She knew her death would mean suffering for them as well. </div>
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What mama, what wife, doesn't want to prevent suffering in the lives of our families?</div>
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But God called her home and I saw the title of her book for the first time...<a href="http://www.mundanefaithfulness.com/the-hardest-peace-book" target="_blank">The Hardest Peace.</a></div>
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My first thought was, "I have to read this book." So I ordered it.</div>
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Then I walked out of my room full of clothes in baskets and back outside with my kids and their friends. I looked at my daughter who had been sick all week, now smiling and enjoying the sunny day, and invited her to sit in the chairs on the deck with me. We sat and talked and sat some more...for over an hour. I did not touch laundry. I enjoyed the sounds of laughter, the sight of pursed lips blowing bubbles, the giggles of little girls who passed around the puppy, and the boyish yells from atop the dirt piles with rakes in their hands like weapons. It was good.</div>
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I didn't miss it.</div>
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And I am grateful that I waited until they were all in bed to tackle the laundry. </div>
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(Yep, it was still there hours later. Isn't that amazing?)</div>
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Today I got it right. Too many days I don't. Too many times I tell my kids to wait, just a second, maybe later because the responsibilities of motherhood press hard upon me and I forget that motherhood means being a mother first...that all the laundry and dishes are there <i>because I am a mother.</i> <i><u>Their mother</u></i>. They need ME more than they need clean clothes put away neatly in their drawers.</div>
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I want to get it right more often. I want to keep in my mind the possibility that my departure from this world may not come with a warning. Kara's did, and that is a huge blessing because she got to prepare for the end. But aren't we all terminal? Aren't we all one day closer to eternity than we were yesterday? Shouldn't we all be living as if we had a diagnosis because, in truth, we do? </div>
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If I did that, there are a lot of things that I imagine would be very different in how I live each day. If I did that it would be a game changer for me and my family.</div>
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Without the strength of the Holy Spirit coursing through my veins, though, it will never happen. So I will turn to Him, trusting Him to help me get it right. Day by day, moment by moment, I pray I will love my family well, love them hard and loud and love them joyfully. I pray Jesus in me will be irresistable to them. I pray I will get it right, and that God will cover the times when I don't.</div>
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Until then, I have a box of tissues and a little girl who is sleeping with mama just one more night. Just one more. </div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-40078163519279558292015-03-05T17:31:00.001-06:002015-03-05T17:31:50.969-06:00A Book Review! "What's a Foster Family?"<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
A few months ago, my brother and his family embarked on the journey of fostering. It has been an incredible experience to watch them walk this joyful, difficult, sometimes heartbreaking path. It has blessed all of us immensely. Every child God has brought to them is instantly loved to pieces by our entire family. So far, three precious babies have filled their arms and our hearts and it has put a face on the children of foster care in a way that hit home more deeply than any other encounter I have ever had with these special children. <br />
<span style="font-size: large;"><i>These little ones are some of God's most vulnerable, dear to His heart. </i></span><br />
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The families who welcome foster children into their lives are truly angels on earth, willing to attach and love hard <i>all the while knowing that goodbye will likely come all to soon.</i> My brother and sister-in-law have walked the path of letting go with such grace, determining to trust God and keep loving even when it hurts. Their three daughters joyfully embrace their foster brothers and sisters and it is because of them that I volunteered to review this book.<br />
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I was privileged to receive an advance copy to review and I'm so glad to have the opportunity to help spread the word about it! <br />
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"What's a Foster Family?" by Anne Garboczi Evans (Illustrated by Helen Cochrane) is a sweet book written for the author's son as they prepared to become foster parents for the first time. It is brightly and simply illustrated and the book's plain, clear language would make it very suitable to be read to a preschooler. It chronicles the journey of a little boy named Alex whose family decides to become foster parents. Though the words are few, they are powerful, clearly portraying the uncertainty, jealousy, fear, compassion, love, and grief that children experience when a new child is suddenly brought into their family. </div>
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I wish it had been around when my brother began their journey because I would have most definitely bought it for my nieces! So often our kids, no matter how much we tell them what to expect, feel blindsided by the difficulties adoption and foster care can bring. A book like this, that can be read over and over, will be valuable to help solidify the truth in their little minds that, yes, this is going to be hard. Yes, you may not like the new kids but you just might grow to love them. And yes, you will probably be sad when they leave...and that is ok. For, in the words of my amazing sister-in-law...</div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>"If we don't get 'too attached' then we have not done our job."</i></span></div>
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Amen.</div>
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Now go buy this book! Here are the links...</div>
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If you live in the U.S.-<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Whats-Foster-Family-Forever/dp/1505418771/ref=sr_1_2?ie=UTF8&qid=1425066358&sr=8-2&keywords=anne+garboczi+evans" target="_blank">click here.</a></div>
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If you live in the U.K.-<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Whats-Foster-Family-Version-Forever/dp/1508675317/ref=sr_1_4?ie=UTF8&qid=1425225453&sr=8-4&keywords=what%27s+a+foster+family" target="_blank">click here.</a></div>
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<i>And if you need another reason to foster or encourage those who are, just read the following facts about Foster Care worldwide:</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Fast Facts about Foster Care in the United States:</b> There are <a href="http://www.ccainstitute.org/index.php?option=com_content&view=category&layout=blog&id=25&Itemid=43" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">400,000 children</a> in foster care in the U.S. Over 100,000 of these children are eligible for adoption, but each year over 20,000 will age out without ever being adopted. <a href="http://www.acf.hhs.gov/sites/default/files/cb/afcarsreport21.pdf" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">Thirty-one percent</a> of the children in foster care were under the age of 3 when they first entered care. The average stay in foster care until a child re-unifies with family or is adopted is <a href="http://www.acf.hhs.gov/sites/default/files/cb/afcarsreport21.pdf" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">twenty-two months</a>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>Fast Facts about Foster Care in the U.K</b>.: Almost <a href="http://www.baaf.org.uk/res/statengland" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">70,000</a> children are in care. <a href="http://www.baaf.org.uk/res/statengland" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">Twenty-three percent</a> of the children are 4 and under. If a looked-after child is not able to return home, the average time he/she is in care until being adopted is 18 months. Five thousand children a year are adopted from care. But <a href="http://www.theguardian.com/society/2013/jun/08/teenagers-risk-foster-care-campaign" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">6,000 children</a> a year age out of the system without ever reunifying or being adopted.<br /><br /><b>Fast Facts about Foster Care in Canada</b>: About <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.ca/2012/02/19/foster-care-crisis-canada_n_1287577.html" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">80,000 children</a> are in care in Canada.<a href="http://www.canadaswaitingkids.ca/about.html" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">Thirty-thousand</a> of these children are in need of an adoptive home. While there aren't great national statistics on the children in foster care, experts estimate that <a href="http://www.adoption.ca/family-bonds" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">several thousand</a> Canadian foster children age out every year without ever reunifying or being adopted.<br /><br /><b>Fast Facts about Foster Care in Australia</b>: There are about <a href="http://www.news.com.au/lifestyle/relationships/alarm-at-soaring-number-of-kids-in-foster-care/story-fnet0he2-1226592799589" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">40,000</a> children in foster care in Australia. About <a href="http://www.abc.net.au/radionational/linkableblob/5091460/data/young-people-transitioning-from-out-of-home-care-in-victoria-data.pdf" style="color: #6699cc; text-decoration: none;">3,000 </a>foster children age out every year without ever reunifying or being adopted.</span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Times, Times New Roman, serif;"><u>If the CHURCH does not take care of these sweet souls, who will? If you are not called to foster, then find out how you can support and encourage those who are!</u></span></i></div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3549729028323673314.post-19644869526460549632015-02-18T09:34:00.001-06:002015-02-18T17:33:21.842-06:00Tough Truth from the Dowager Countess {Ash Wednesday}<div dir="ltr" style="text-align: left;" trbidi="on">
The news reports send me reeling. Twenty-one brothers in Christ beheaded for being "People of the Cross." Forty-five Christians burned alive. Persecution of Biblical proportions happening now.<br />
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And then I sit down to catch up on Downton Abbey with my teenager.<br />
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I suck.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdz8_M8DTtpfgXVdjyQGlvM2sTof0prcM76nnyZ5BH-8YbXsSbJloatna6llQ0zOULpUybcXrW4kWfJruJBcJRCfjPw0TK0KcEPRdH0d9zw7trvB8YagWmfimMEQxrDAcRrF2fiHVWdw/s1600/wood-ashes-00.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="ashes, downton abbey, dowager countess, ash wednesday, lady mary, dust, Romans, persecution, 21 Christians, beheaded, martyrs" border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMdz8_M8DTtpfgXVdjyQGlvM2sTof0prcM76nnyZ5BH-8YbXsSbJloatna6llQ0zOULpUybcXrW4kWfJruJBcJRCfjPw0TK0KcEPRdH0d9zw7trvB8YagWmfimMEQxrDAcRrF2fiHVWdw/s1600/wood-ashes-00.jpg" title="Ash Wednesday" /></a></div>
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What is happening around the world (and, frankly, is on its way here) is so terrible and so frightening yet, after an intense kick in the gut that makes me almost physically ill, my mind (my flesh?) hits the "Stop" button and resets to normal. <br />
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At least, what I wish was normal.<br />
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But the fact is, sitting in the comfort of my living room in front of a roaring fire while the Dowager Countess chastises Mary, telling her "Lack of compassion can be just as vulgar as a flood of tears" is <i>not</i> normal. Sipping my morning latte with snow falling softly through tall trees while my German Shepherd sleeps at my feet is <i>not</i> normal.<br />
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This life I live is not normal.<br />
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I live in relative safety. I live in comfort. I live in a big house in a nice town with a church on every corner...and a mosque that is growing faster than most of those churches.<br />
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Why?<br />
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Because we forget who we are and why we were created. We, as a people, do not realize who we are in Christ and to Whom we truly belong. If we did, we would be shouting from every rooftop and begging those we love to surrender to this Jesus who promises anything <i>but</i> normal life. He promises danger, persecution, and <i>eternal life. </i><br />
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He promises freedom. <br />
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<b>Here are three truths to chew on as we sip our lattes:</b><br />
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-As the people of the Cross, we don't have to slaughter innocent people to get to Heaven.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><i>The innocent One was slaughtered for us.</i> </span><br />
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He marched up to that cross, beaten and weak, with one thing on his mind. <br />
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<b>You.</b><br />
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-He doesn't require us to pray five times each day or cover ourselves in black from head to toe. <br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">Jesus was covered for us.</span></i> <br />
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Our sin made dark the beautiful face of the Son of God so that we, with <i>unveiled</i> faces may behold God's glory and be transformed into His image. (2 Cor. 3:18)<br />
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-He doesn't ask us to wage a holy war and take out the enemy by force.<br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">The war began in Eden and was won at the cross. </span></i><br />
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The battles we face now? They are already won. (Jer. 1:19)<br />
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So I wonder...what if the Church stopped preaching Law and started preaching Grace? (I'm thankful to say mine does just that.) The effects would be immeasurable! Let me explain: <br />
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What the Dowager Countess said was all too true. <i>"Lack of compassion can be more vulgar than a flood of tears."</i><br />
How often do we say, even through tears, "Oh, pity, those poor people on the news. I can't imagine what they are going through." <i>And then we do nothing.</i><br />
Or maybe we change the channel altogether because, well, it doesn't involve us. <i>God, forgive our hard hearts.</i><br />
BUT...what if we opened our doors wide to the sinner, the prostitute, the stinking homeless man on the corner and welcomed them with open arms? What if we stopped trying to clean people up and let the Holy Spirit do his job? <br />
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Because here's the deal. I can't clean anyone up. I can point out sin all day long, (and I'm really good at that) but not one of us, by sheer willpower, can conquer the power of sin. Our behavior is the result of a faulty belief system:<br />
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I may believe in cheap grace, get saved, then go on with my happy self...<br />
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What a waste.<br />
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I may believe I'm not worthy, can never be worthy, and am therefore useless to the Kingdom of God...<br />
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What a tragedy.<br />
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<i>Or I may realize that the Worthy One has made me worthy</i>, that despite my sins and failures He uses this cracked pot to house His Holy Spirit and, therefore, has enabled me to love beyond myself, serve until it hurts, and pray until my knees bleed. I will then realize that those around me who are lost and dying don't need to be reminded of their sin. <i>They need to be reminded of the sinless one.</i> They don't need to be told they are going to Hell, <i>they need to be led to the only One who can get them into Heaven.</i> Because, guess what? <br />
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<i><span style="font-size: large;">A saved and surrendered sinner will sin less.</span></i><br />
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The Holy Spirit is so much better at cleaning house than we are.<br />
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Ash Wednesday. What if Lent means more this year? What if we stop chit-chatting with God and really pray? What if I wage war against the darkness and, by the power of the Holy Spirit, stand up as a Person of the Cross and refuse to be distracted or back down from the battle? <br />
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Yes, <i>I am dirt</i>. But even dirt is useful. Jesus took a handful of it, spit in it to make mud, and used it to heal the eyes of the blind man. (John 9:6) <br />
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Use me, Lord. Use your people who live in safety to fight for those who do not. Use us to take the hands of the lost and raise them up out of darkness. Teach us to stand for truth but to slam the door on legalism. Yes, make us a useful people.<br />
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<i>For your further reading:</i><br />
<i>Romans 5-8</i><br />
<i>(It will change everything.)</i><br />
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/07996994078621643193noreply@blogger.com0