tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9290401533506642252024-03-13T22:11:37.231-04:00Becca's Fresh FruitBecca's Fresh Fruit....love grows where mercy and grace abounds.Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.comBlogger423125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-85399430863120531722016-03-03T13:48:00.001-05:002016-03-03T14:19:09.985-05:00The Watchers<br />
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">A few years back I asked my grandmother </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">what her earliest
memory was.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">She thought for a moment and told me </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">that the most vivid
memory she has from early childhood was watching her mother make bread.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>She said that she could distinctly remember
the flour dust dancing in the sun rays as her mother would shake the flour from
her apron.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">She could remember her mother’s
hands and how they would just be full of bread dough as she would clap them
together in the open back door of their home sending tiny little dough balls
falling to the ground.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJv1tfklBeQiFXOd1UpMU_dVvzOHaoybBMEEZ4atWjpu_psVzG2UqyvYacYLQPFFvBJAAjOvQd6t7D7Xv0a1WATKn6jLr1vkQt0oZczidR55rA1H0r6ZIj6v2duj2WBQY9EHz93lMtYz7G/s1600/22.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJv1tfklBeQiFXOd1UpMU_dVvzOHaoybBMEEZ4atWjpu_psVzG2UqyvYacYLQPFFvBJAAjOvQd6t7D7Xv0a1WATKn6jLr1vkQt0oZczidR55rA1H0r6ZIj6v2duj2WBQY9EHz93lMtYz7G/s200/22.jpg" width="200" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";">My grandmother’s most vivid memory as a child was
watching.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Watching another woman’s
work.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Watching her care for and love her
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Standing there as a young impressionable
little girl and just taking it all in.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">This is my memory too.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>Watching, learning, mimicking, developing a belief system and an understanding
of the most important things in life. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
too stood watching in the doorway as my grandmother knelt by her bedside and
laid her family before her creator. I watched her living life to it’s absolute
fullest.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>I watched her relish in the
good and set her eyes on the positive.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I
watched her hope in the difficult times and mourn with the broken hearted. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched her taking time for friends and
strangers. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I watched her strike up conversations with waiters, cashiers,
grocery baggers, people sitting beside her on a park bench, tour guides and
anyone else who would give her a few minutes of their time so that she could
share her faith with them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched her care for her husband with such
grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched her love her daughters
and son in laws and delight in her grandchildren and great grandchildren.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>I watched her generosity. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I watched as she embraced
hard work and enjoyed the fruits of a beautiful home and yard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>I watched as she found such joy in being
together with family, always laughing, dancing and joking around.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"> I watched as
she spoke words of hope and encouragement into the lives of so many, including
mine.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched as she would light up a
room with her smile and make a place better just because she was there. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I also watched as her memory began to fade and the light
behind her eyes grew dim.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>I watched as
her body just would not do what she wanted it to do.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNJPim4o0ZtRQ5ZG_KuL1nqIkqGMc0Vtyj-JTzQNeDYAt1orcIEsAMkCLYUOugQZ3d0njUHvamEyl-GeaSNlEpof_LzCJJ3xbdzUb_CQNlyU5z1AIUgJA0ITgGXYuBPV3AM7ZxX3RZCTh/s1600/an2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibNJPim4o0ZtRQ5ZG_KuL1nqIkqGMc0Vtyj-JTzQNeDYAt1orcIEsAMkCLYUOugQZ3d0njUHvamEyl-GeaSNlEpof_LzCJJ3xbdzUb_CQNlyU5z1AIUgJA0ITgGXYuBPV3AM7ZxX3RZCTh/s320/an2.jpg" width="212" /></a><span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched as she began to get lost more often
in her confusion and as her longing for heaven grew stronger. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I watched as my
mother became her caregiver and made sure my grandmother’s needs were met.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"> I
watched as the roles were permanently reversed as my grandmother became as
dependent as a little child.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched
as a hope for an eternity without pain, confusion, aggravation, depression and
sickness was what we clung to.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I watched
as a life well lived began to be celebrated even in the final days only because
of that blessed hope we have that grandma will be whole and perfect and in the
arms of Jesus because she had put her faith and trust in him.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">As I am watching now, waiting to hear the story of her death, assured in the fact that she will be escorted into heaven by the angels, </span><span style="font-family: "calibri";">I am acutely aware that I am not only a
watcher, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">but I am being watched.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">The
best tribute I can make to my grandma is also the greatest legacy that I can
leave for my children and grandchildren.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span>My desire is to point people to Christ in the way I live my life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I want my watchers to know that Jesus
forgives, heals, restores and inhabits those who trust in him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It is only he that gives perfect peace and joy
through the trials of this life.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At the
end of this journey however long or short it may be for each of us is the hope
of an eternity in heaven as a reward for a life surrendered to him here on
earth. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">As the generations grow and my watchers become the watched, </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "calibri";">this is my
hope for them; that they may know Jesus and leave a legacy of a life lived for
him.</span></div>
<span style="font-family: "calibri";">I love you grandma! Thank you so much for living the life that I watched. You have helped to make me into the woman I am today.</span></div>
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Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-77533968328579465252014-08-20T11:54:00.000-04:002014-08-20T11:54:36.474-04:00Voices in my Head...........<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>
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So I have been spending my mornings and afternoons with </div>
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this little guy.</div>
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He is a joy and delights my soul every day!</div>
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His smile lights up my world</div>
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and we have so much fun together.</div>
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Many days by the time his mommy comes to get him,</div>
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he and I are in the kitchen while I am getting dinner ready.</div>
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The kitchen is kind of off to the side of the door that </div>
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Jenna comes in, so Landon cannot see her approach.</div>
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He will be babbling or dancing or inspecting</div>
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something along the baseboards in the kitchen</div>
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and then all of the sudden he hears a voice and freezes.</div>
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He looks at me with wide eyes and an even wider grin</div>
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as if to ask me, "Hey, did you hear that?!"</div>
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For a minute or two the room is electric with </div>
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the anticipation of a mommy's hug and the excitement </div>
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of being together again.</div>
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Landon knows his mommy's voice.</div>
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He knows it without even seeing her.</div>
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His response to her voice is unlike his response </div>
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to any other voice in his life.</div>
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</div>
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Sometimes I can easily recognize the voices speaking to me and</div>
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I know exactly how to respond.</div>
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But not always. </div>
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For the past two weeks I have been </div>
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praying about leading a women's Bible study in </div>
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the church that we have been attending for the past 6 weeks.</div>
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From the minute I found out there was a need,</div>
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it has been in the back of my mind to step up</div>
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and lead. </div>
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There are voices in my head too. </div>
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Here is what they are saying:</div>
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Can I do this?</div>
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It has been so, so long since</div>
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I have led a study.</div>
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I am quite comfortable now with nothing to prepare for,</div>
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nothing to study for,</div>
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nothing expected of me.</div>
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I'm comfortable, but I'm not growing the way I want to be.</div>
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Thursdays are my only night with nothing to do.</div>
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I need my nothing to do night.</div>
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What if no one comes?</div>
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What if someone comes?!</div>
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What if I trip over my words,</div>
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sound like an idiot,</div>
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sound like a know it all,</div>
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and worst of all,</div>
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what if I cry?!</div>
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I am not a pretty crier.</div>
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I hate crying in public and do everything I can to avoid it.</div>
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Once the chin quiver starts though,</div>
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I can't usually stop it </div>
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and it just goes downhill from there. </div>
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What if God uses this study to help encourage others?</div>
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What if this is the thing I need in my life right now,</div>
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right here, at this very point in my life? </div>
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I'm not funny enough, knowlegable enough,</div>
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cute enough, witty enough, well connected enough,</div>
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smart enough, confident enough </div>
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or well spoken enough to do this. </div>
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I'm unorganized.</div>
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Completely and totally unorganized.</div>
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I simply cannot get it together enough to </div>
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look like I have it together enough to do this!</div>
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What if this grows me, stretches me,</div>
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causes me to walk by faith? </div>
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</div>
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The study I want to do is called Let It Go by Karen Ehman.</div>
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The subject is dear to my heart. It is about being a control freak.</div>
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I am a control freak.</div>
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God has brought this to my attention over and over again</div>
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during the past five years. </div>
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The lessons I have learned about how very necessary it is to </div>
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let go of control</div>
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when it comes to my own personal peace</div>
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is the number one word of encouragement</div>
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I give to other mother's when they share their struggles with me.</div>
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It is a subject that is still tender.</div>
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This is scary for me.</div>
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I can't just brush over this stuff.</div>
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It is going to come down to sharing personal stories</div>
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and that means being real and raw and vulnerable....</div>
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and again, the crying thing. </div>
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<br /></div>
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So all of this is going on in my head</div>
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all the while I am still taking steps to lead the study.</div>
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I have a meeting scheduled with the Pastor on Friday morning</div>
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so he can get to know me and we can talk about the study.</div>
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Since we are brand new to the church,</div>
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he needs to know where my heart is.</div>
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Yesterday I had lunch with my husband and</div>
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was telling him about this struggle of voices</div>
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in my head.</div>
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I asked him which one I should be listening to.</div>
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Both make sense.</div>
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Both can be convincing. </div>
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But one of them is a lie. </div>
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Almost always, when there are two voices in direct conflict</div>
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one of them is truth and one of them is a lie.</div>
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On the one hand, I get a free night every week.</div>
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No preparation, no one counting on me, no possible public failure,</div>
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no vulnerability. </div>
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I could use that night to clean or do laundry</div>
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or prepare meals for the week</div>
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or catch up on blogging and editing.</div>
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Or I could face reality and use that night like I really would</div>
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and just sit and watch TV or surf the internet.</div>
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</div>
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On the other hand, </div>
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it has been a very long time since I have put myself out there </div>
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in a leadership roll.</div>
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I'm going to have to put time and effort into this.</div>
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I'm going to have to be open, honest, my imperfections are going to be </div>
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out there in bright flashing neon lights for everyone to see.</div>
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I'm going to have to face my fear of public speaking.</div>
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I'm going to be vulnerable to criticism.</div>
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Someone might not like me.</div>
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I am going to have to give up control.</div>
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Sigh.</div>
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Sitting across the lunch table from me,</div>
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my sweet husband listened to all of my fears</div>
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and insecurities as I poured them out over the </div>
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chips and salsa we were sharing.</div>
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"Who do I listen to?" I asked him.</div>
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He told me what I already knew.</div>
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"Listen to the voice that is pushing you toward growth. </div>
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The one chasing you out of your comfort zone and </div>
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causing you to have faith." he said.</div>
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<br /></div>
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So, here we go. </div>
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If God opens the door for me to lead this study </div>
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on Thursday nights at a little coffee shop</div>
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in downtown Newport,</div>
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I'm going to listen to his voice and do it.</div>
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<br /> </div>
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Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-86052771366392422032014-08-14T14:54:00.000-04:002014-08-14T15:07:58.925-04:00Things I have learned from weeding my garden........<div style="text-align: center;">
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So we rented this house in Portsmouth</div>
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with a really beautiful yard.</div>
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It is almost park like and there are </div>
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gorgeous flowers everywhere.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqOjVzC6Qq26vIvteNtO87Qxm66MtPzt0YJzRrLbLjCaL1d9K0fbPed9wnicWKd8pNt21w2xaXEmtOT_3Kr_O6uSSnd5HcRJZVXd85AwqaZ7wWY_9EpFya1zuMs28AwrN3Yshm4rl4CmZ/s1600/garden1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaqOjVzC6Qq26vIvteNtO87Qxm66MtPzt0YJzRrLbLjCaL1d9K0fbPed9wnicWKd8pNt21w2xaXEmtOT_3Kr_O6uSSnd5HcRJZVXd85AwqaZ7wWY_9EpFya1zuMs28AwrN3Yshm4rl4CmZ/s1600/garden1.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
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I do not have a green thumb.</div>
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It is really a challenge for me</div>
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to keep any kind of plant life alive.</div>
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But I am determined to do this.</div>
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I have to, it's in the lease.</div>
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I'm pretty motivated </div>
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(and a little obsessed)</div>
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so, I think that I will be able to </div>
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figure out how to keep this garden happy.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_zrb35ethv5mELOZjisomkfvQpdVABqVqPY0tUEW89wQXsErCcdFF9VMWkGlAhc9NuI5-fQHzFswaM0hLBasPBMajlTKrgBD1KxOfsy8Q65ffhNna_j2cZQBuN0J1VyGTFQzYON0yrAz/s1600/garden.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhM_zrb35ethv5mELOZjisomkfvQpdVABqVqPY0tUEW89wQXsErCcdFF9VMWkGlAhc9NuI5-fQHzFswaM0hLBasPBMajlTKrgBD1KxOfsy8Q65ffhNna_j2cZQBuN0J1VyGTFQzYON0yrAz/s1600/garden.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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When we first moved in,</div>
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the flower beds had been freshly mulched.</div>
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There were no weeds and </div>
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the mulch had not been pressed down by rain yet. </div>
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Everything was fresh and new and perfect.</div>
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Now, having been here for more than a month,</div>
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it's not so perfect anymore.</div>
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The mulch has settled in and the weeds</div>
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are trying to take over.</div>
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I did a round of weeding at the two week mark,</div>
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but now they are back with a vengeance!</div>
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So the other day,</div>
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David and I went out to tackle the </div>
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green, thorny terrorist.</div>
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Our home sits right on a main road,</div>
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and even though we don't use this entrance</div>
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for everyday comings and goings</div>
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we are still responsible for the upkeep.</div>
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So there I was out there in the front of the house</div>
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pulling weeds by the curbside</div>
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and along the fence beside the sidewalk.</div>
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On the main road.</div>
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The MAIN road. </div>
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{groan}</div>
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I hated every minute of it. </div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvczvxekLy8I6uTZKYYvQQq9AKEEEMO-QLEVSEdZor56ElcmXP3DzJl3tNkef9gLib-5_yLbcJ8VKbEVuALksNImTzFjJwus694Om5fUKFl-NKA2q52tEGN2tvOAAySc8l6lgBjA6-rrUk/s1600/weeds.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvczvxekLy8I6uTZKYYvQQq9AKEEEMO-QLEVSEdZor56ElcmXP3DzJl3tNkef9gLib-5_yLbcJ8VKbEVuALksNImTzFjJwus694Om5fUKFl-NKA2q52tEGN2tvOAAySc8l6lgBjA6-rrUk/s1600/weeds.jpg" height="320" width="240" /> </a></div>
There really is no flattering way to bend over and </div>
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pull out a stubborn weed root.</div>
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I am not very fond of my backside.</div>
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I am even less fond of introducing myself to my new community</div>
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by displaying my backside bent over along the curb on the main road.</div>
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As I was pondering how much I would rather be doing this </div>
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in private, in seclusion, </div>
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incognito, in the dark of midnight<br />
or in any other way than out in plain sight<br />
for the amusement of all 2.1 million drivers</div>
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that were on that road that day,</div>
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I thought of how much this applies to life.</div>
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Sometimes we just have to weed in public.</div>
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Sometimes the weeds in our lives are just out there for everyone to see.<br />
Sometimes God's way in dealing with us is very, very public.</div>
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Sometimes there is just no other way.<br />
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There are so many imperfections that I would like to hide from the world.<br />
Sometimes things are just not alright in my world,<br />
and I would rather push them down deep and deal with them in secret<br />
then to have my struggle made public and my shortcomings on display.<br />
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I don't want people seeing that my kids don't always embrace<br />
what we have taught them<br />
and often times do the exact opposite of what we pray for.<br />
I don't want them seeing that my home is sometimes filled with<br />
the thorny vines of bickering and strife.<br />
I don't want them seeing the prickly leaves of my lack of faith in troubling times.<br />
I don't want them seeing the weeds that have resulted from my bad decisions.<br />
The monster weed at the root of all of this is pride.<br />
I don't want people seeing these imperfections because I don't want to seem<br />
like an emotionally unstable, out of control, needy, selfish, willful person who<br />
can't seem to keep her house in order.<br />
I'm too proud.<br />
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But another thing occurred to me as I was weeding my curbside garden out in plain daylight.<br />
What if some of these people aren't snickering at my backside up in the air?<br />
What if some of them are thinking, "hmmm, I really need to weed my garden!"?<br />
What if people saw me working and thought, "Hey, I've got weeds too!"?<br />
What if my work inspired them to think about their own garden<br />
and what needed to be done there?<br />
What if it isn't about me and how I appeared to others at all,<br />
but more about my very public work inspiring others to recognize the work that<br />
needed to be done in their own gardens?<br />
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Throughout the years there have been people in my life who have had very public struggles.<br />
Their gardens were being weeded on the curbside on very busy streets.<br />
I remember one woman sharing a little bit with us in a woman's bible study.<br />
She was going through some trying times with her son<br />
and it was breaking her family apart.<br />
My children were very young at the time and while I could not relate<br />
to her struggles, but I was so very thankful<br />
that she was brave enough to share them with us.<br />
As a group we were able to come along side her and pray for her.<br />
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I learned the valuable lesson that sometimes we are put in<br />
circumstances that seem impossible to overcome.<br />
Sometimes our faith is shaken to the core.<br />
Sometimes the imperfections in our lives are ugly and public and we can't hide them,<br />
but God intends for us to bear one another's burdens and to share<br />
our struggles and triumphs with others.<br />
We shouldn't let the sin of pride keep us from being real with people. <br />
<br />
I often think back on that moment when this woman<br />
shared her not so flattering side with us<br />
and I am so thankful for her example.<br />
God used her struggle to encourage me so many years later<br />
when my kids entered the world of teen rebellion. </div>
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I didn't feel alone.<br />
I knew that I wasn't the only mom who had been touched<br />
by this kind of pain.<br />
I knew that God would use me and my story to help other moms<br />
if I would only be brave enough to share.<br />
<br />
I saw a photo of this woman's son on facebook the other day.<br />
He has a teenage son of his own now and is doing very well.<br />
God drew him back to himself and worked in the life of that family.<br />
If we hadn't been aware of the struggle,<br />
we wouldn't have been able to rejoice in the victory!<br />
<br />
It is my hope that as I share my "fresh fruit" with you,<br />
the pretty flowers of my life, the colorful bouquets and the healthy shrubs,<br />
that you know of the weeds that loom as well.<br />
As long as we walk this earth they will always be there.<br />
It is important that you know about them and their choking vines</div>
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and how much work it took to pull them out at the root.</div>
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You must know about them in order to truly appreciate the </div>
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magnificence of the flowers that bloom. </div>
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For no flower is more beautiful than the one that is gained through</div>
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struggle and strife.</div>
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The one paid for with tears, pain, obedience, selflessness,<br />
forgiveness, grace, mercy and ultimately <br />
a thorn pricked brow.<br />
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Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-17687940566586780162014-08-12T13:15:00.000-04:002014-08-12T13:15:18.557-04:00Do Overs.....<div style="text-align: center;">
I just love it when God brings me back to a place that I never thought I would be again.</div>
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It's like life's little do-overs.</div>
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There are so many levels of emotions that I feel when something like that happens.</div>
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Right now I am experiencing this on three levels.</div>
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First I'm feeling the "want to" to pick up this blog again.</div>
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As I have spoken of before, </div>
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there are seasons of life that just cant be put into words</div>
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as they are happening.</div>
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Some things are better left to rest until the come to their own conclusions</div>
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before the story can be told.</div>
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The last four years of my life seemed to consist of one event after another</div>
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that just needed to sit within my heart until healing and understanding </div>
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could bring about the right words to share. </div>
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To all you moms of teenagers out there, I know you feel me.</div>
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Let me just say that it gets better. It really does.</div>
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<br /></div>
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My second do-over is that we are back in Rhode Island!</div>
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We lived here 7 years ago and this is the place where my blog began.</div>
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My first post were of our life here and how much we loved it.<br />
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<div style="text-align: center;">
Despite the fact that we fought tooth and nail to stay in Maryland,</div>
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coming back here after 7 years has been wonderful. </div>
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There were so many things in Maryland that brought a level of comfort to me.</div>
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That level of comfort in a new duty station</div>
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is not something we military families are used to. </div>
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It was a blessing to live near my mom </div>
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and my Maryland family.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It was great to walk into the salon where my mom works and be among friends.</div>
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It was incredible to live in the neighborhood I grew up in.</div>
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I did meet lots of great new people too, </div>
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but most of those people I met after I had already been there for quite some time</div>
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and my life there had already become routine. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I had my bearings and I didn't feel like the "new girl" who desperately needed</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to belong.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Those friendships were formed with a sense of ease, </div>
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not in a "please be my friend so I don't become a hermit" kind of way.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was so blessed with a strong client base and met so many people in Maryland</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that I hope to keep in touch with.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have no idea why God moved us here when we were so comfortable.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Perhaps it was to stretch my world a little bit more.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The level of comfort I was experiencing isn't always good for a person like me. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Most think that I am very outgoing,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but in reality it is hard for me to put myself out there.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It is scary to be the new person in groups that are already well established.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It is scary to find out if and where you fit in.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It is scary to be in new unfamiliar situations...at least it is for me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, now I'm back to reaching out again.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm brushing up on all those skills that I was able to let lay dormant </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
in Maryland.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's a good thing!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Rhode Island has so many good qualities.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I had forgotten how very beautiful and vibrant this place is.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Whenever anyone asked me what my favorite duty station has been so far,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I always included Rhode Island in my top 3 because of it's beauty.</div>
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Last time we were here it was only for one year.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I broke my ankle 9 months into that year and which kept me home and healing</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
for our last few months here.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I was always so bummed that we did not get to explore everything we wanted to </div>
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because of that unexpected injury.</div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Now we are back for almost 4 years and I've got a list a mile long of all the places </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I want to go and see and everything we want to explore. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Boston, Mystic, Martha's Vineyard, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Nantucket, Cape Cod, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
points of interest in New Hampshire, Vermont and Maine, </div>
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Providence, Jamestown, Block Island</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and Newport are all on the list.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNbFr0hVwyimyXsarJhZTP7M_DOEp_FSMRbit3NGvx3dYek014kb0cCeHkdmdl3v7MCnLgzPEvHJ7ZBkGvfJanZVGWph8Lcv60_Ru8BN5eo782HsXLZFQ1gS_SWTzFArFExR-p9LeEmV6/s1600/4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiaNbFr0hVwyimyXsarJhZTP7M_DOEp_FSMRbit3NGvx3dYek014kb0cCeHkdmdl3v7MCnLgzPEvHJ7ZBkGvfJanZVGWph8Lcv60_Ru8BN5eo782HsXLZFQ1gS_SWTzFArFExR-p9LeEmV6/s1600/4.jpg" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Summers here are alive and filled with so many activities in the community. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There is something different to do every day of the week. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Just walking around in downtown Newport on a summer evening is so enjoyable for me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The restaurants, the history, the people bustling about, </div>
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the harbor, the sailboats and yachts,</div>
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the cliff walk, the beach, the ocean, </div>
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the clams, the boutiques, </div>
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the music from local bands, </div>
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the landscaping, the cobblestone....</div>
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I was made for this place!</div>
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As great as the summers are,<br />
I'm a girl who loves Fall and the Autumn season here is just breathtaking!<br />
</div>
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<br />
New Englanders are incredibly friendly! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Every single day when I am out in town</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
someone starts up a friendly conversation with me.</div>
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The locals are extremely helpful and genuine.<br />
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm just so excited and thankful for this do-over.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
There is another do-over that I am also thankful for.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We are so, so blessed that our son Zachary and his precious little family </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
followed us here to Rhode Island.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They live in the sweet little town of Bristol about 5 miles from us.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They are thriving here!<br />
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</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Zach has a great job and is able to support his family enough that Jenna</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
is able to follow her dreams and go to school full time </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to work toward her career in the medical field.</div>
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Starting today, Landon will be with me for a few hours 4 days a week.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We are working on baby proofing the house and I've been</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
on Pinterest looking for fun activities to do with 1 year olds.</div>
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I am going to have so much fun with him!</div>
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I plan to make the most of this special little do-over that I have with him.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I loved being a stay at home mom and building into my children </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
as much as I could. I enjoyed coming up with creative things we could do.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I loved reading them nap time stories and taking them to the park.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We were definitely on the go most days and we let no grass grow under our feet!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
How blessed am I to be able to revisit some of the joy of pre-schoolers again?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'm not as young and energetic as I was when I packed up three little kids </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and ran all over town every day, but I am gonna do my best to keep up with this little guy!!</div>
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<br />Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-55250030218762591982012-12-04T11:55:00.001-05:002012-12-04T11:55:33.502-05:00Our Story..............<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
Once upon a time there was a girl and a boy.</div>
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</div>
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</div>
<div align="center">
The boy loved the girl and the girl loved him back.</div>
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They spent lots of time together and grew very close.</div>
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After dating for almost a year, </div>
<div align="center">
the girl and the boy found out that they </div>
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were going to have a baby.</div>
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The boy was scared and so was the girl.</div>
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Fear drove them apart and the girl and the boy </div>
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went in different directions.</div>
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The girl moved to Maryland</div>
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and the boy stayed in Florida and </div>
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tried to forget her.</div>
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By the time the leaves changed in the Fall of 1991,</div>
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the girl had a beautiful baby boy.</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5YrjhhLCJys9uS4biOWNdpZ-3Wt7CJyw6ZWSfrDtfxPlv_bqf2cZvXDgT9juiblYYLlhb7A9cjRFLj4GEtF37qgd6PtlzYs4C37eGJ0Y9wDYxQ-jMzQjDTWQNLMINKzj-XLd1Fn3SaK97/s1600/scan0122.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5YrjhhLCJys9uS4biOWNdpZ-3Wt7CJyw6ZWSfrDtfxPlv_bqf2cZvXDgT9juiblYYLlhb7A9cjRFLj4GEtF37qgd6PtlzYs4C37eGJ0Y9wDYxQ-jMzQjDTWQNLMINKzj-XLd1Fn3SaK97/s320/scan0122.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</div>
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She named him Zachary and he was her world.</div>
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The girl worked very hard to make a life for</div>
<div align="center">
her baby boy. She rocked him to sleep at night,</div>
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sung songs to him,</div>
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giggled and laughed with him</div>
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and marveled at how amazing he was,</div>
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but she never forgot the boy she left in Florida.</div>
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He never forgot her either</div>
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and he was working very hard to change and grow</div>
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and prepare to win back the heart of the girl and be a father and a husband.</div>
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Through the miracle of God's perfect timing,</div>
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the boy and the girl were drawn back together.</div>
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The boy had joined the Navy and was stationed in Connecticutt.</div>
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He drove to see the girl and the baby boy every </div>
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weekend for many, many months.</div>
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By the end of the summer of 1992,</div>
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the boy and the girl were married</div>
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and they began a new life in Connecticutt.</div>
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.</div>
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</div>
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The girl and the boy and their little boy were very happy.</div>
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</div>
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The girl and the boy learned alot about eachother </div>
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and about how to be parents.</div>
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The girl and the boy didn't always do it perfectly,</div>
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but they loved eachother and their little boy very much.</div>
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They tried hard to make the right choices and</div>
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to do the best things for their little family.</div>
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They girl and the boy didn't have very much</div>
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and lived a life full of sacrifices,</div>
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but their home was filled with love.</div>
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The girl and the boy loved being parents and </div>
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their little boy was everything to them.</div>
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Soon the girl and the boy had another baby.</div>
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They named him Michael Isaac and he was very loved.</div>
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The two little boys were best friends and they </div>
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did everything together.</div>
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Soon God gave the girl and the boy another baby. A little girl named Madison.</div>
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She was their first princess and their family grew to five.</div>
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The boy and the girl and could hardly believe</div>
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that God had brought such beauty out of very humble and uncertain beginnings.</div>
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</div>
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From great struggle, God had brought amazing success.</div>
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The boy was promoted in the Navy many times over the years. </div>
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The family of five lived all over America and were able </div>
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to do and see so many wonderful things</div>
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and meet so many great people.</div>
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The boy and the girl knew it was because they had trusted in God</div>
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and had longed to raise a family that loved Him.</div>
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They were very blessed.</div>
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</div>
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Seven years after their last baby,</div>
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God sent another little girl.</div>
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They named her Brendell Faith</div>
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and she completed their family.</div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGj4v7h20s-_AwEFRkkOUbUhUrgJInYp3LMEcfd2gKliHGt9itcL8w9AuTm8K3mIStsF_XJuLQpKJM-bun2t32xtmfEtFLm2lfQJ1uuVwrOezGFltf7Pu2AimT-krtjuBVUbMlhMrXDyd/s1600/38.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNGj4v7h20s-_AwEFRkkOUbUhUrgJInYp3LMEcfd2gKliHGt9itcL8w9AuTm8K3mIStsF_XJuLQpKJM-bun2t32xtmfEtFLm2lfQJ1uuVwrOezGFltf7Pu2AimT-krtjuBVUbMlhMrXDyd/s320/38.jpg" width="160" /></a></div>
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The family was now six.</div>
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Once again the boy and the girl were amazed by how far God had brought them</div>
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over the years.</div>
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They knew how uncommon it was for two people</div>
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coming from such opposite backgrounds</div>
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and starting a family as young as they did</div>
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to not only stay together through all of the hard things life throws</div>
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at couples and families on a daily basis,</div>
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but also to thrive.</div>
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To them it was supernatural </div>
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and was only because of the grace of God</div>
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that their little family existed</div>
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as an imperfect, challenging, heart warmingly beautiful unit.</div>
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</div>
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God likes to take the weak things of this world,</div>
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the troublesome situations,</div>
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the under-dogs,</div>
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the ones society labels as unworthy</div>
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or challenged,</div>
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the ones with little or no means</div>
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to make it alone,</div>
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the ones who don't know real love,</div>
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the ones who are looking in all the wrong places to have their needs met,</div>
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the ones who are spiritually,emotionally and physically needy</div>
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and are starving for encouragement from others,</div>
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the ones who are written off by others,</div>
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the ones who are blinded by the lies</div>
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they have been told......</div>
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He chooses them and he</div>
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comes up beside them,</div>
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invades their lives,</div>
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empowers them with his truth,</div>
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turns them around,</div>
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sends others to rally around them physically with tangible love</div>
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and spiritually with intercessory prayer,</div>
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and lifts them up</div>
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to bring glory to himself through them!</div>
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</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhri1Mlo0KcWwtXF3GLwGK1or4dwO2HjcvpFkddc7m9lJd2YugcWb6wcdqxcNk5q4hJvAUXSgY3go-C3HjRubSrJNKRDVn81cK34gtcHTKI1Kot8qhQ08okv7BQ9YwGMz8Yi6ZEMIXdImoq/s1600/3b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhri1Mlo0KcWwtXF3GLwGK1or4dwO2HjcvpFkddc7m9lJd2YugcWb6wcdqxcNk5q4hJvAUXSgY3go-C3HjRubSrJNKRDVn81cK34gtcHTKI1Kot8qhQ08okv7BQ9YwGMz8Yi6ZEMIXdImoq/s320/3b.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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And now, because we know who holds our future,</div>
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who works ALL things out for good,</div>
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who despite our own weaknesses, failures, doubts and all out rebellious nature</div>
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has invaded our life and has made something </div>
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far more beautiful than we could ever have imagined </div>
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and who promises to complete the good work he has begun in those who love him,</div>
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we rejoice in the addition of a grandson in the spring of 2013.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1dU16mWetdQrCjZ_wKSB25m-cWqZ0vyVnRSrBDgVhnplh7LQaHM350gFKKP-NsvMGO6GjFBulwvLeaaHQt7N46yJfsqwrr8EVtyrHcrdluLK-pr3k-Mha9RtSELiCfHhzjdM0OSRbNmE4/s1600/gbaby1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="179" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1dU16mWetdQrCjZ_wKSB25m-cWqZ0vyVnRSrBDgVhnplh7LQaHM350gFKKP-NsvMGO6GjFBulwvLeaaHQt7N46yJfsqwrr8EVtyrHcrdluLK-pr3k-Mha9RtSELiCfHhzjdM0OSRbNmE4/s320/gbaby1.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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</div>
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The boy and the girl will now get the joy of watching the story of </div>
<div align="center">
their little boy and his girl unfold on the pages of their own book.</div>
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The boy and the girl are excited because they know the author of the story.</div>
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He is amazing!</div>
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He is creative, keeps his readers in suspense,</div>
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loves cliff hangers and edge of your seat prose</div>
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and his writings are always, always emersed in love.</div>
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He allows his characters much freedom,</div>
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resulting in constant twists and turns in the story.</div>
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This may cause some of his audience to doubt and fear,</div>
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but the faithful know the redemptive powers of the author</div>
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and they understand that undesireable,</div>
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often self inflicted circumstances are always overcome by</div>
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forgiveness, love, grace and mercy.</div>
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Fans of this author know that although we will watch the imperfect,</div>
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stubborn characters stumble and all may look hopeless,</div>
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this author never writes those who love him out of his story.</div>
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Because he knew the entire story before he even picked up the pen to write the first word,</div>
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we can trust him through the scary parts where things start to look</div>
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like they are falling apart for our characters.</div>
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The best, most amazing and unique part is that this story is ALIVE!</div>
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As readers of the story that is being written on our own hearts </div>
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and on the hearts of those we love,</div>
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we have the awesome power to influence both the characters and the author himself</div>
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through our fervent prayers.</div>
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We can pray that the characters use the freedom that the author gives them wisely.</div>
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We can pray that the author showers grace and mercy on our characters</div>
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and blesses them beyond their comprehension.</div>
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It really is quite incredible to think that we can play such vital roles</div>
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in not only our own story</div>
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but also in the stories of those we dearly love!</div>
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</div>
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I dont want to give it away,</div>
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but in the end love and truth wins!</div>
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(and later there is gold involved....lots and lots of gold! </div>
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I hear the streets are even paved with it!....oh and plus love, joy and peace</div>
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that we have never known on this earth! sounds like a great ending to me!)</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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</div>
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Enjoy the read</div>
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and remember the story is not over until </div>
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the last chapter is written!</div>
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Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-3062344404732500192012-05-03T08:52:00.000-04:002012-05-03T09:20:07.358-04:00Finger pointers<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So the other day someone posted an article on facebook </div>
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about the newest way teenagers are trying to destroy their bodies.</div>
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Something about hand sanitizer and getting drunk.</div>
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It was a sad article for sure, but the saddest part was the comments.</div>
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Immediately a group of mom commenters</div>
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began condemning the parents of teens who resort to this kind of behavior.</div>
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They must not care about their kids. </div>
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They are raising stupid kids.</div>
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They don't know their kids and aren't in touch with them.</div>
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Their kids are acting out some deep-seated hatred of their parents short comings.</div>
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What is wrong with americas teens today must be parents.</div>
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hmmm.</div>
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I wanted to comment, I really did!</div>
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I wanted to say that I know my kids, I love them and care about them.</div>
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They are not stupid.</div>
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They have been taught right from wrong.</div>
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They were brought up in a home where their father and mother</div>
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are not perfect, but they love eachother and have the best </div>
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interest of the family at the center of everything they do.</div>
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I wanted to say that my teens still make crappy choices.</div>
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They still do wrong despite knowing right.</div>
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They sometimes still go with the crowd when the crowd is not</div>
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doing the best thing.</div>
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Their thinking is immature when compared to how they will think</div>
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5 years from now,</div>
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but that makes them a typical teen,</div>
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not a stupid, uncared for teen raised </div>
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by parents who have no rules or morals.</div>
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If this chapter in my life has taught me anything,</div>
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it is that no matter how well you raise your kids,</div>
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they are not little robots.</div>
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While some may tow the line and rise above things like</div>
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peer pressure, temptation, depression,</div>
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laziness, disrespect and risky behavior,</div>
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all of them will not.</div>
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Some will take the hard road</div>
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despite mom and dad putting up warning signs </div>
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and shoring up the guard rails on life's path.</div>
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Some teens reach adulthood battered and bruised</div>
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with their hair all in knots and their clothes torn,</div>
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but they get there.</div>
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I have no idea why some kids avoid risky behavior</div>
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and some kids run headlong into it.</div>
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I don't know why kids who are raised in much the same way</div>
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can turn out so differently.</div>
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But I do know that awesome parents can be left to watch</div>
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their kids struggle well into their twenties</div>
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and parents who by definition we might lable as "morrally lacking"</div>
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seem to have kids who sail through</div>
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the teen years picking up scholarships and accolades along the way.</div>
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The truth is, we raise individuals who</div>
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think for themselves</div>
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learn for themselves</div>
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experience for themselves</div>
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and </div>
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ultimately decide their own life's direction.</div>
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Believe me, I have tried every jedi mind trick available</div>
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to get inside my teens heads and think for them.</div>
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I have yet to be successful.</div>
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So, I guess my point is that the vaste majority of parents of teens<br />
are scared to death.</div>
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We need support from eachother.</div>
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The last thing we should be doing is </div>
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jumping on eachother and pointing fingers</div>
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trying to make sense of the choices some teens make.</div>
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Parents of hard to raise teens</div>
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are most certainly going through the most emotionally draining</div>
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time of their lives.</div>
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They are already pointing the finger at themselves</div>
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and anguishing over every single decision they've made over the past</div>
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10 years trying to figure out what went wrong.</div>
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Nothing tears a heart apart more than watching someone you love</div>
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walk away from truth and embrace life altering lies.</div>
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Piling on more guilt from parents who have not walked in </div>
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these tattered and threadbare shoes is in my opinion</div>
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sad and heartless.</div>
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I know the sleepless nights well.</div>
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I understand the tears that are constantly brimming up in the eyes</div>
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of worried moms.</div>
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I know the voice inside that condemns you for not seeing</div>
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any fruit from your labor yet.</div>
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I know the pain of comparison</div>
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and the feelings of doubt that you ever did anything right by your kids.</div>
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But I also know hope.</div>
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I know that God has promised to complete the work he has begun.</div>
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I know that he is strong when I am weak.</div>
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I know that he is the God of redemption and deliverance.</div>
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I know he is loving and forgiving.</div>
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I know that he has a plan and a purpose for each of us.</div>
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I know that he knows what he is doing </div>
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and that he hears every prayer I pray over my kids </div>
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and sees every tear that falls down my face.</div>
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I know that he loves my kids even more than I do</div>
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and that he brings gladness from mourning,</div>
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strength from fear</div>
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and beauty from ashes.</div>
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And I trust him.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRxGOlzWrDTSZnd51cyoaUTt7JO-7oWNzWXd24v9kZx3npe4AI0etudw8xf9YWedEb36aHgCTqsVZfH7dLh0kCPAv4vSE4Fq_l6ALrg46szKoIhZXmPbcDzfOHK9FSpyL1TQcVXvop4feO/s1600/2w.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="237" mea="true" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRxGOlzWrDTSZnd51cyoaUTt7JO-7oWNzWXd24v9kZx3npe4AI0etudw8xf9YWedEb36aHgCTqsVZfH7dLh0kCPAv4vSE4Fq_l6ALrg46szKoIhZXmPbcDzfOHK9FSpyL1TQcVXvop4feO/s400/2w.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-75131776283007232342012-03-29T10:07:00.002-04:002012-03-29T10:07:31.325-04:00Adventures with Ostich eggs<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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So my husband went to Whole Foods.</div>
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By himself.</div>
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Now I am sure that when he saw this larger than life</div>
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porcelain like egg</div>
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that he had flash backs of the Amazing Race episode</div>
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where the teams had to devour an ostrich egg in order</div>
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to move on.</div>
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His adventurous side must have overtaken him and</div>
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he probably thought it would be cool</div>
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to try something that they</div>
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had to struggle through. </div>
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You know, just to see how we would fare.</div>
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Plus I am sure he felt rather experienced in the culinary field</div>
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when he rolled up to the cashier with this baby in tow!</div>
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<br /></div>
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I already know how we would fare on any food challenge</div>
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on any reality show</div>
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that would involve my husband</div>
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trying anything slimy, hairy, previously crawling,</div>
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crunchy or smelly.</div>
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One bite in </div>
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quickly followed by one projectile bite out </div>
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aaaaaand that's a wrap!</div>
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<br /></div>
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So that is why I was a bit surprised</div>
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when he pulled this out of the bag.</div>
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But, he does love to experiment with different</div>
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unusual food combinations</div>
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and he enjoys cooking</div>
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so I have to give him props for </div>
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standing right on the edge of </div>
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his imaginary exotic food line in the sand.</div>
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<br /></div>
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Getting this thing into the skillet</div>
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is apparently an art form.</div>
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And it requires power tools!</div>
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<br />
<div align="center">
The egg is sitting securely on a blender lid</div>
<div align="center">
so as not to move while David</div>
<div align="center">
drills a pilot hole.</div>
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Yes, our dinner this evening </div>
<div align="center">
requires a pilot hole.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCyngHvh7wm7ByQG-3v_TYF92d94gumZRLQc7_DDptgEvqFvqdKM0cvayGadG3-FqKISlwIwM0B_h6u134AYI4AkacDZBKHB4RmgG39MXYP6eazBSSTRBMcdmITAL-RUsMzrY3NIjohgYO/s1600/2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCyngHvh7wm7ByQG-3v_TYF92d94gumZRLQc7_DDptgEvqFvqdKM0cvayGadG3-FqKISlwIwM0B_h6u134AYI4AkacDZBKHB4RmgG39MXYP6eazBSSTRBMcdmITAL-RUsMzrY3NIjohgYO/s320/2.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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and there it is.</div>
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Pilot hole success.</div>
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yay.</div>
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Now it's time for the serious drill bit.</div>
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I honestly have no idea how these baby birds even hatch!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It took way longer than expected and much more force than expected</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
just to break through the hard shell and expose....</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
*drum roll please*</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the membrane.</div>
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<br /></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yes, we have an exposed membrane.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
At this point, I felt a little knot in my stomach.</div>
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Something about the word "membrane"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
associated with something I am about to eat</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
is just about as appealing as it sounds.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Now you have a knot in your stomach too,don't ya?</div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdmWABcPfQgy60EZWT5AfSloJhh48Gb2n4VfCV5XNwfzIeiq_EJsLszDqaVF_DSNpEEzhd8AJN1Xic0Ah-qI67j3NFJ3H2iAjuWg0iWqumdyD-YRlZiAsO9v6NvObL-lDII73cksCOuky/s1600/6.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwdmWABcPfQgy60EZWT5AfSloJhh48Gb2n4VfCV5XNwfzIeiq_EJsLszDqaVF_DSNpEEzhd8AJN1Xic0Ah-qI67j3NFJ3H2iAjuWg0iWqumdyD-YRlZiAsO9v6NvObL-lDII73cksCOuky/s320/6.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Going on the advice of a friend from work,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we decided to pour the contents of the ostrich egg into the blender.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I imagine the conversation went something like this...</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
David: (casually and feeling a bit exoctic)"Yup, picked up an ostrich egg for dinner tonight."</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Friend: "Oh you know you gotta put that thing in a blender, right? </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And you need a good drill bit and a pilot hole!!"</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
David: "Absolutely!" </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
He comes home and tells me about his new found knowlege</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and having previously googled what to do with this thing</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and finding no mention of power tools or blenders,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I did doubt his methods.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But who am I to question employees of the Office of Naval Intelligence?</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For all I know this is super secret information</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and I should feel honored to have been enlightened.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
A blender is supposedly the best way to keep it mixed because it tends to separate.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And it did work,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
so, if the word "membrane" didn't deter you</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and you want to try an ostrich egg yourself</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that is a little tip for your brave soul. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLwMjVRaa_A6pH9V1jQO3ogMef_YGZikFTuiet578yJQJdC5pXeNTntoSauvhbkClDwMP4u9TjK1J9J6fx7mSijPZTu29WLFpdfKi4dVe4L95_bJ6QG54vFmVQFZw_z-FYOnlU8rCn73K7/s1600/7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLwMjVRaa_A6pH9V1jQO3ogMef_YGZikFTuiet578yJQJdC5pXeNTntoSauvhbkClDwMP4u9TjK1J9J6fx7mSijPZTu29WLFpdfKi4dVe4L95_bJ6QG54vFmVQFZw_z-FYOnlU8rCn73K7/s320/7.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Ok, see this photo here is quite deceiving.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It looks preety standard as far as egg innards goes.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But before we even got to the yellow yolky liquid,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we had to endure about 20 minutes of clear oozing slime.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Yes, I said slime.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
David shook that thing until his arms were about to fall off</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and still it took that long!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Needless to say that the knott in my stomach</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
was threatening my appetite big time!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Once we finally got to the yolk,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it oozed for another 10 minutes.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know this because Madison and I </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
were able to watch exactly half of </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Fashion Star which we had DVR'd.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Not impressed with anything from that episode </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
by the way.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Except for the cute flowy dresses </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
from the asian guy.... and they weren't even bought!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
bummer.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TYvY9Oh0-LgnqRDDMJFd4A_TDmndeuCTGwKxzetlbNU0axHiVyUoMjDBD57Th0sUCYwlW1liej8NflKwHiw9zr2auj-QvhL_-MxP741hK8H6hxTZuPclFUHKzQhXAJUH8r6OGqRhvdXp/s1600/8.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6TYvY9Oh0-LgnqRDDMJFd4A_TDmndeuCTGwKxzetlbNU0axHiVyUoMjDBD57Th0sUCYwlW1liej8NflKwHiw9zr2auj-QvhL_-MxP741hK8H6hxTZuPclFUHKzQhXAJUH8r6OGqRhvdXp/s320/8.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So sometime while Nicole Ritchie was</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
telling that guy not to use floral in his dude shorts</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we had finally filled the blender with ostich goo</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and had seasoned it with salt and pepper</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
just to make us feel better.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We scooped out enough for one omlet at a time.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwb0k1ylks_8bnuy3Gze8PoNcvjmY2ZVw6QFH5V3DockZWPoOQJ09FyP64GFhD1IgK9L7FB0npbAeap3J6a-AWMB0MEKlTpIb9hcWBoloR2KKlxdeXEH6Aqx6aAyzppDhI6gVMqu_7Ktu/s1600/9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSwb0k1ylks_8bnuy3Gze8PoNcvjmY2ZVw6QFH5V3DockZWPoOQJ09FyP64GFhD1IgK9L7FB0npbAeap3J6a-AWMB0MEKlTpIb9hcWBoloR2KKlxdeXEH6Aqx6aAyzppDhI6gVMqu_7Ktu/s320/9.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I tried to fool the knot in my stomach </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
by telling it that even ostrich goo</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
can benefit from bacon, cheese and ham.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy237qiDM0JYJIvu7mMeFxOLOGVKFD7q6QlzLfyvoisLfcruhT3G6qFZbjF_riYcFz3fNu-8YfAFmz9bcPNmxNfCngQk-amPl8C3GJpUWptCjyh1Nb4NQgeBilKz7AwKKBTy4OwzvKBVVS/s1600/10.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhy237qiDM0JYJIvu7mMeFxOLOGVKFD7q6QlzLfyvoisLfcruhT3G6qFZbjF_riYcFz3fNu-8YfAFmz9bcPNmxNfCngQk-amPl8C3GJpUWptCjyh1Nb4NQgeBilKz7AwKKBTy4OwzvKBVVS/s320/10.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
See how much lighter the ostrich egg is</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
compared to chicken eggs.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
It's very airy. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEPicw7qrr_TSDZICR5VVQNiKHgQi99476AHmIq49j9eMUhf9IDtdCbQera1Mkb6FA2yhphT_CYm1bt1ogp3U1F-NT5qMCFsyrmhLymqqgqCtT_wjZO3tdxN3kCWPwxuMlL7Ja_1iqj-K/s1600/11.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiEPicw7qrr_TSDZICR5VVQNiKHgQi99476AHmIq49j9eMUhf9IDtdCbQera1Mkb6FA2yhphT_CYm1bt1ogp3U1F-NT5qMCFsyrmhLymqqgqCtT_wjZO3tdxN3kCWPwxuMlL7Ja_1iqj-K/s320/11.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBTP_9hZpG7C9sUDQrefbYrU6IX1viUD0wGvHzDRiu6VhQbkRmtvmxxXjZ4rZEU1rnYE779mfgcAPLm1SK9IZMChSMl6ZTkhv_qSxP0KPTCS0VhQy-qv1Ek0mvbCOL_0gkADb88vrP5cck/s1600/12.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBTP_9hZpG7C9sUDQrefbYrU6IX1viUD0wGvHzDRiu6VhQbkRmtvmxxXjZ4rZEU1rnYE779mfgcAPLm1SK9IZMChSMl6ZTkhv_qSxP0KPTCS0VhQy-qv1Ek0mvbCOL_0gkADb88vrP5cck/s320/12.jpg" width="213" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Bacon!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
We almost never have it,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but when we do it is nibbled on until it is almost gone before we even sit down to eat!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I know you understand.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUQdiCg4nRvaW4Aosj53yBwTHWf_fyIfGIfg797ZfPn4D6Ya7HZ8kR8z-6mrPLs30B5shtz3rTChIc7PRh_UP-edlNx9diNsiJdz6EagwvHDzP-RpOxJHgMCAGt2lwpZIYcqo-PlBTZ_W/s1600/13.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" dea="true" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixUQdiCg4nRvaW4Aosj53yBwTHWf_fyIfGIfg797ZfPn4D6Ya7HZ8kR8z-6mrPLs30B5shtz3rTChIc7PRh_UP-edlNx9diNsiJdz6EagwvHDzP-RpOxJHgMCAGt2lwpZIYcqo-PlBTZ_W/s320/13.jpg" width="254" /></a></div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
So, I decided that I wanted mine scrambled after seeing</div>
<div align="center">
that Bren's omlet wasn't holding together very well.</div>
<div align="center">
David thought it tasted like sponge cake.</div>
<div align="center">
Madison thought it tasted like soggy bread.</div>
<div align="center">
I thought it tasted like ham, cheese and bacon</div>
<div align="center">
because I ate around most of the egg part!</div>
<div align="center">
If we hadn't added bacon strips, biscuits and grits on the side</div>
<div align="center">
it would have been pizza night!</div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
<div align="center">
<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div align="center">
*</div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-3870592048618142682012-03-23T08:46:00.000-04:002012-03-23T08:46:37.792-04:00Perspective<div style="text-align: center;">
creeeeeeaaaak!! </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
That's me opening up the door to my blog.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Everything is dust covered and cobwebbed.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've certainly been absent for a while.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
To say I have missed it would be an understatement.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I. have. missed. it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I think that in my effort to protect myself, </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have thrown the baby out with the bath water.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I write my life. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I write what is going on in my soul,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
what makes me laugh </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and cry</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and think.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I write my perspective on everyday things.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I try to write as honestly as I can.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The problem is that at this particular season of my life,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I am finding that being an open book about some subjects</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
is not what's best for everyone around me.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is so hard for me, because when something consumes</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
my every thought,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it is next to impossible to not write about it.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
No, it is completely impossible.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And in certain situations, restraint and patience might be better </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
than spilling my guts in a public blog.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, I've been silent. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Just on paper though.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've been writing things in my head furiously</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
over the past year....</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
but that's where it remains. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In my head.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I haven't trusted myself to blog about life in general</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
for fear that my issues would creep in </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and taint my words and possibly hurt other people.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I would sit down to write an innocent blog post about </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the mild winter we had</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and end up ranting and raving</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
about my latest fear</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and perceived failure.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
This is dangerous because</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
today's rants and raves,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
if given time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
can be tomorrow's success stories</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
or funny anecdotes about the time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I thought the world would surely end,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
we would all live a life full of regret</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and nothing would ever be the same again.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I'd rather skip the emotionally charged triade</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and eliminate the risk</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that my words</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
however truely felt at the time</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
would come to haunt another</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and instead get right to the success story and</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
the funny anecdotes.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Or at least to liveable resolution</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and acceptable compromise.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But because I miss it so much,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I have decided that even if I have to blog about</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
clouds or traffic or cinnamon rolls to keep myself </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
out of vulnerable subjects,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I must blog.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The lessons I am learning in my life right now</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
will be shared.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
They should be shared because I am certain that I </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
am not the only person on this earth to ever have encountered </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
such confliction of heart and mind. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Such fear that I am completely wrong in every single one of my choices.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Which of course naturally leads to consuming dissapointment </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and rising anger.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Such worry about what the furture will bring</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to those I love who cannot see the freight train coming</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
despite the bright orange flag I seem to be constantly waving.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
But these lessons will be shared later.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
In another season when space and time </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
has resolved some things that right now </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I think may never be resolved.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Perspective will change perspective.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I will be in a much better emotional position</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
to blog about this season of my life</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
when this season of my life </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
is less bitter and more sweet.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
After I've learned the lessons and survived,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I will be much better equipped to </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
speak logically and compassionately</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
about things and will be more of an encouragement</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and less of a whiner.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
So, consider this my very vague, cryptic</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
re-introduction of myself to the blog world that I have missed so much.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Although I will not be diving into the depths of my current issues,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
it will be impossible not to sprinkle some little nuggets of truth</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
that I am learning along the way</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
among my "day in the life" posts.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Speaking of,</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
I've got a great post about decorative cookies coming up soon!</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
And it will not include a recipe </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
since those that know me</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
understand completely that my eye for beauty</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
and actual execution of such beauty in</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
sugary dough form</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
does not match.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
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<br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-47579559225184230792011-10-05T13:32:00.007-04:002011-10-05T15:39:16.148-04:00Change<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwYYs9auacff2WZF60NtCwrilF549stqxzfL37Vm0TGhnXS8qApE3eRiLSwxvFXulI2jFpG6kzZbUM32IcYlUx4ISdyDdASaXtCxlvfYLe-SfWdb6JyFNDVwEbXEvdQcs0vDgFjgGR60A/s1600/1.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5660063742151184994" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpwYYs9auacff2WZF60NtCwrilF549stqxzfL37Vm0TGhnXS8qApE3eRiLSwxvFXulI2jFpG6kzZbUM32IcYlUx4ISdyDdASaXtCxlvfYLe-SfWdb6JyFNDVwEbXEvdQcs0vDgFjgGR60A/s400/1.jpg" style="cursor: hand; display: block; height: 266px; margin: 0px auto 10px; text-align: center; width: 400px;" /></a><br />
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Change</div>
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It sure is the season for it</div>
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isn't it?</div>
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You'd think that being a Navy wife</div>
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I'd embrace change.</div>
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And I have.</div>
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But I'm not talking about a change of scenery here.</div>
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I'm talking about the kind of change </div>
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that sneaks up on you.</div>
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The one you realized happened</div>
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while you were either looking the other way</div>
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or living in denial.</div>
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This isn't one of those posts that mourne the</div>
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inevitable growing up of children.</div>
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It's not about regret or trying to hang on to </div>
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something that is very surely slipping</div>
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through your fingers.</div>
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</div>
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It's a post about change.</div>
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Something of which I thought</div>
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I had become an expert.</div>
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But I'm finding out that</div>
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maybe I'm not.</div>
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Change is running through my life</div>
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like a freight train lately.</div>
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And it doesn't even blow a warning horn!</div>
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It's the kind of change that</div>
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makes you realize that life as you know it</div>
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has morphed into something that</div>
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although you love and cherish,</div>
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you don't really recognize</div>
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and you hope that it</div>
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morphs into something easier</div>
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very, very soon.</div>
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</div>
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I look into the eyes of my son</div>
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who will be 20 next month</div>
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and I see someone who </div>
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except for food and shelter</div>
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does not really need me.</div>
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But I hope he wants me.</div>
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Oh do I hope he wants me.</div>
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Right now though,</div>
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he neither wants or needs me</div>
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most of the time.</div>
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</div>
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He is the main decision maker in his life now</div>
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and that scares the heck outa me.</div>
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He respects our rules, but really</div>
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he is on his own path.</div>
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No warning horn.</div>
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</div>
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At almost 18 and soon to be 16, </div>
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Michael and Madison are right on Zach's heels.</div>
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In just 2 and a half years from now, </div>
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we will be the parents of 3 adults and a middle schooler.</div>
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Absolutely no warning horn.</div>
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At all.</div>
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</div>
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It became evident to us this summer</div>
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that we were most assuredly</div>
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in the throws of change</div>
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when all of the sudden</div>
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we became a party of 3</div>
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instead of a party of 6.</div>
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The older kids were so busy with work,</div>
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summer trips with friends </div>
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and things that they wanted to do</div>
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and we were busy with our own summer</div>
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activities centered around</div>
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the outdoors with Brendell.</div>
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I wish I had known that the summer of 2010</div>
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was the last summer we'd spend</div>
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doing things that the teenagers</div>
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wanted to do with us.</div>
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Did you hear a warning horn?</div>
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Yeah, me either.</div>
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And so this change,</div>
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this thing that makes my kids second guess</div>
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my advice </div>
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and brush off my attempts at</div>
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deep conversation.</div>
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This thing that has them</div>
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saying a quick,</div>
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"bye Mom, I love you!"</div>
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on the way out to work</div>
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or play</div>
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This thing that has me watching tail lights</div>
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and waiting for headlights,</div>
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This thing that has me trying to remember</div>
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what being a teenager was like,</div>
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This thing that has awarded</div>
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them more responsibility</div>
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and more choices</div>
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This thing that keeps me up at night</div>
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hoping that they make good choices</div>
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This thing without a warning horn....</div>
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I don't like it very much.</div>
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Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-50833345197832539482011-06-21T14:58:00.008-04:002011-06-21T16:06:26.833-04:00Roses and Chicken Nuggets<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuV8czCIK6uRwhmUxZ5zOp_OkSSLwH8sVOmAUNqAbfTjbRIT7MJ2euxKDRfnyOGqer48UUi4-OsolARHLVlRIlbyKBFke3P-yVYjiR7Zkm_bA0P87kC3X5TIu8nv2zwipWZdlPQXo5l2iF/s1600/27.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620749952340433330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuV8czCIK6uRwhmUxZ5zOp_OkSSLwH8sVOmAUNqAbfTjbRIT7MJ2euxKDRfnyOGqer48UUi4-OsolARHLVlRIlbyKBFke3P-yVYjiR7Zkm_bA0P87kC3X5TIu8nv2zwipWZdlPQXo5l2iF/s400/27.jpg" /></a> The impact that a father has on a girl's life</div><br /><br /><div align="center">is no secret.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">It cannot be over stated,</div><br /><br /><div align="center">emphasized enough</div><br /><br /><div align="center">or exagerated.</div><br /><br /><div align="center">Every girl needs an excellent Dad!</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHASE8TmKNWunrZKE4vLH0riweqrM3XLzYTlkyGoqqpmLdcw6gG-79iehIK4cUXauU8s7yF2vXLqrICVfiPNMwrSW0CLTKTn5uz84B3ZE_pVcMNaCROHxnumFXQQIL_8C6ZG30OjQ_Lz4K/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620749813422477170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHASE8TmKNWunrZKE4vLH0riweqrM3XLzYTlkyGoqqpmLdcw6gG-79iehIK4cUXauU8s7yF2vXLqrICVfiPNMwrSW0CLTKTn5uz84B3ZE_pVcMNaCROHxnumFXQQIL_8C6ZG30OjQ_Lz4K/s400/4.jpg" /></a>This vital need is more evident today than ever.<br />With so many broken homes and absent fathers<br />a large percentage of our little girls are growing up with<br />scarred hearts.<br />For these girls,<br />the precious and fleeting years that should have<br />been filled with her daddy's<br />steadfast adoration and heroic protection<br />are instead filled with the agendas<br />of selfish adults<br />or with the confusion that<br />comes from having such a deep need and no real direction<br />as to how to fill it.<br />Our girls are struggling<br />to realize who they are.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjjLJbQI5JQLHKwFPt7b_gCKh9ZCE_TaKPQ4weVAAErDvbrR5gYeorRxVhU1TCT2a19WVoo6d9YKnTrfxfr-eL5b7gc-xLadgBk8pdDsBfIxTmIGKtmlc0nAvoIwxK84ERyYhTeMd1sTD9/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620749746594271410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjjLJbQI5JQLHKwFPt7b_gCKh9ZCE_TaKPQ4weVAAErDvbrR5gYeorRxVhU1TCT2a19WVoo6d9YKnTrfxfr-eL5b7gc-xLadgBk8pdDsBfIxTmIGKtmlc0nAvoIwxK84ERyYhTeMd1sTD9/s400/5.jpg" /></a>Within the heart of every girl<br /><br />no matter what her age,<br /><br />is the desire to be<br /><br />loved, needed, appreciated, wanted<br /><br />and cherished.<br />This need was put within us by our heavenly Father<br /><br />whose everlasting love can meet<br /><br />those needs beyond our comprehension.<br /><br />How we as little girls perceive our<br /><br />earthy daddies<br />will mold the way we think of our heavenly Father.<br />Dads, this makes you just about<br /><br />the single most influencial player in<br /><br />our lives!!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7vKT-_lCh89_WYE2kBY4UalvKcSSvXkvw38bQSuj24XXhWLhqdLzB0x5UQrss23_1xpc1Jez_8ApiONTBe29l-Oz5UbOhjFemQt1Z_Aknl8tZEfVLNVrkOmbJC2iqENofBt5v9EDGdIJB/s1600/6.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620749693311110930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7vKT-_lCh89_WYE2kBY4UalvKcSSvXkvw38bQSuj24XXhWLhqdLzB0x5UQrss23_1xpc1Jez_8ApiONTBe29l-Oz5UbOhjFemQt1Z_Aknl8tZEfVLNVrkOmbJC2iqENofBt5v9EDGdIJB/s400/6.jpg" /></a>For those of you Dads out there<br /><br />rocking it out as<br /><br />excellent Fathers,<br /><br />Thank You!!!<br /><br />You have no idea the impact you are making<br /><br />not only on your daughter's life today,<br /><br />but on all of the lives she will touch as she grows<br /><br />and also the lives of your grandchildren as well.<br /><br />Every gentle word,<br /><br />every prayer you utter on her behalf,<br /><br />everytime you decide to spend time with her<br /><br />instead of on something trivial and temporary,<br /><br />everytime you take a moment to encourage her<br /><br />you are building a better future for<br /><br />her and the woman she will become.<br /><br />You cannot begin to imagine how your efforts today<br /><br />will pay dividends in the future!<br /><br />As a mom of two teenage boys,<br /><br />I pray that the girls they chose to date<br /><br />have strong, loving Fathers in their lives<br /><br />to teach them what precious young ladies<br /><br />they are and to build into them<br /><br />the ability to confidently know who they are<br /><br />and what they are worth.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYIkWmJr1cbg90yF30VSBP8X8I6MhynVUAFl0fibO0CxbEDvv824vYrPIB9qIwc38Lxen3YGDh1rQJ5dcsye70hHITDbUvUXWCuejtaZ9B0_4HNqSwcMuMgsGYaJ7AUAMBqZW-aoYPwvLa/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620749596319061746" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYIkWmJr1cbg90yF30VSBP8X8I6MhynVUAFl0fibO0CxbEDvv824vYrPIB9qIwc38Lxen3YGDh1rQJ5dcsye70hHITDbUvUXWCuejtaZ9B0_4HNqSwcMuMgsGYaJ7AUAMBqZW-aoYPwvLa/s400/2.jpg" /></a>For all of the girls out there who may not have<br /><br />this kind of Father or none at all,<br /><br />there is hope!<br /><br />The same God who created you<br />is the one who put that need for love inside of you.<br /><br />He longs to be that Father for you!<br /><br /><br /><br />Psalm 68:5 says that He is the Father to the Fatherless<br /><br />and a hero for all times!<br /><br />Isn't that what we all want girls?<br /><br />A hero for all times!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />God calls us his children<br /><br />dearly loved,<br /><br />accepted,<br /><br />united with the Lord<br /><br />and one with him in spirit,<br /><br />bought with a price,<br /><br />set apart,<br /><br />adopted as His child,<br /><br />redeemed and forgiven,<br /><br />His workmanship,<br /><br />free from condemnation<br /><br />and unable to be separated from His love!<br /><br />Just ask Him and He will be there<br /><br />never leaving or forsaking you!<br /><br />He will fill that nagging need inside of you<br /><br />that the enemy would wish you to fill<br /><br />with temporary and distructive things.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDSRz_A2x6MClegVgo0GsoP89KmUF4vK4mqe5xPVDDJ8vB7h9h18CQEfQSUyl4hhuwB47fQhgWI5rSjJ8A3nOkrkO3U6Vispx3wrBgDscc_VWKVPdfUDzcJKn6Sw-JsSV4h2Ndj6gpBxmG/s1600/3b.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5620749538577526418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDSRz_A2x6MClegVgo0GsoP89KmUF4vK4mqe5xPVDDJ8vB7h9h18CQEfQSUyl4hhuwB47fQhgWI5rSjJ8A3nOkrkO3U6Vispx3wrBgDscc_VWKVPdfUDzcJKn6Sw-JsSV4h2Ndj6gpBxmG/s400/3b.jpg" /></a>For all of you girls with awesome Dads...<br /><br />don't let another day go by without<br /><br />letting them know how<br /><br />thankful you are for their<br /><br />positive influence in your lives!<br /><br />An excellent father is a rare and beautiful thing!<br /><br />Those doing it well<br /><br />need to be honored.<br /><br /><br /><br />For all of you Dads who haven't been so awesome lately,<br /><br />it's not too late.<br /><br />Plan a date night,<br /><br />write a note,<br /><br />give a hug<br /><br />hold a conversation<br /><br />say something positive and affirming<br /><br />to your little lady<br /><br />(or not so little one)<br />I bet you will see the spark of forgiveness<br /><br />and delight begin to shine in her eyes!<br /><br />Don't give up...<br /><br />after all, you are<br /><br />our hero<br />and heros fight for the love of their ladies!<br /><br /><br /><br />*<br /><br />(Thanks Chick-Fil-A for creating an enviornment<br /><br />of affirmation for daughters and daddies everywhere<br /><br />with your daddy daughter date nights!)<br /><br /><br /><br />*<br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-29003607485880720782011-05-30T12:41:00.018-04:002011-05-30T13:16:44.623-04:00A hero on the pool deck....<p align="center"><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><br /><span style="font-family:Calibri;">I met Brian and Rachael a few weeks ago</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">on a Caribbean cruise I took with my mom. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Before I even noticed Brian's leg, </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">I was struck by the obvious adoration between this couple. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><?xml:namespace prefix = o ns = "urn:schemas-microsoft-com:office:office" /><o:p></o:p></span></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mPNCk4ddOkyxEqDOPtdL-Av672oDf84weojXl90njGRYF5TUQk7BQzPo4t3DniUT49lW4pDJgCbr6KItPRcqvo9YXS0vcXXtR1pVagdzavOmfuO_nTOnSjFzBWmbtTalk3pe1szVv3pH/s1600/l.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612555110127109314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8mPNCk4ddOkyxEqDOPtdL-Av672oDf84weojXl90njGRYF5TUQk7BQzPo4t3DniUT49lW4pDJgCbr6KItPRcqvo9YXS0vcXXtR1pVagdzavOmfuO_nTOnSjFzBWmbtTalk3pe1szVv3pH/s400/l.jpg" /></a> <br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Rachael just glowed in Brian’s presence </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and seemed to have a protective nature about her.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>Brian definitely looked like a man in love,</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">but there was also a certain sadness and hesitation about him.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>They were both settled into sun chairs on the pool deck</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">when I first saw them.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>A few minutes later when he moved his beach towel</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">I saw Brian’s leg.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>It was a curious contraption of metal and sockets </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">with a brown sandal fixed to a plastic bare foot.</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXRYIk0FPKRW_Exv8xlv5IoKhNNCENq81BT2atESYvKpZcK2vw4ju35MQtOnLlXsV78B9Jtek9LK6kZMBKszay_m5dKtvcmzuG1QqgHkBcDtu1_cKM0J1si1zFzQCFi6CH5la4A7sq5p6w/s1600/a.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612555054871786450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXRYIk0FPKRW_Exv8xlv5IoKhNNCENq81BT2atESYvKpZcK2vw4ju35MQtOnLlXsV78B9Jtek9LK6kZMBKszay_m5dKtvcmzuG1QqgHkBcDtu1_cKM0J1si1zFzQCFi6CH5la4A7sq5p6w/s400/a.jpg" /></a> </p><br /><p></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Mom and I happened to be sitting pool side </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">a few chairs from Brian’s when the cruise director announced</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">a "Mr. Sexy Legs" competition. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">I had no sooner turned to my mom to tell her that I hoped Brian would enter </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">when I saw Rachael encouraging him to put his name on the list. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">He kept shaking it off, </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">but mom and I supported Rachel with a “thumbs up”</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and vigorous motioning for him to get up. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Reluctantly, Brian put his name on the list and got in line.<o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><div align="center"><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCxGTON989zpg6IcALW1i6SUM25efz4CTeZnNTFaVA4wT2wDo804DCPCdRZCrIGzlbwkKqIKhUtfQZjQZ6Qv2ubBihd5EoH0AI5Bxfa2M28jgFF2qsdGKYFgqnOsoe2hqO1zNlzNjWCysG/s1600/b.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554973857735890" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCxGTON989zpg6IcALW1i6SUM25efz4CTeZnNTFaVA4wT2wDo804DCPCdRZCrIGzlbwkKqIKhUtfQZjQZ6Qv2ubBihd5EoH0AI5Bxfa2M28jgFF2qsdGKYFgqnOsoe2hqO1zNlzNjWCysG/s400/b.jpg" /></a> </div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">We watched several men strut their stuff down the deck. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">Some were funny, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">some were embarrassing,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">but none of them had the impact that Brian did when he his walk began.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">At well over six feet tall</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">I imagine that Brian probably wasn’t very graceful on two legs,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">but as he made his way down the deck </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">with his newly learned gait, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">he became more beautiful with each stride.</span><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXI2s12_CbCA_0XiyipSMdEcUSnX4s66qM7OME4Ye2Flwfa6E6fZK7Uob-vCA8TRGr2wvXwzVR7OxEblYt-TrV8K97f7FfwPB-s470-fHGWfYunK0E6S9hS02Og0D7bnLnJJ2QAzhrdCCA/s1600/e.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554922000579234" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXI2s12_CbCA_0XiyipSMdEcUSnX4s66qM7OME4Ye2Flwfa6E6fZK7Uob-vCA8TRGr2wvXwzVR7OxEblYt-TrV8K97f7FfwPB-s470-fHGWfYunK0E6S9hS02Og0D7bnLnJJ2QAzhrdCCA/s400/e.jpg" /></a> <br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>Almost everyone on the pool deck stood and cheered for him </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and people were lined up against the upper deck railing</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">most of them with their hands in the air clapping for Brian! </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">At that moment</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Brian was our friend, </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">our son,</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">our brother, </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">our husband.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>He was every soldier who didn’t come home</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and every soldier who was still there fighting.</span><br /><br /></p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs13-QIz2gyE2jrMp3_JQFv-JjWcSqAB5Z2tqy-0iqYiwvIsCNpBEuuv5MbDijY97cPFYi0eJTJo_gVUavdI0k_yzq_a6m2I1vdN1fuQ53bFaIqwcjiPoCeKtybNSyHXqBUkULi76OeDNn/s1600/d.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554837533701362" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs13-QIz2gyE2jrMp3_JQFv-JjWcSqAB5Z2tqy-0iqYiwvIsCNpBEuuv5MbDijY97cPFYi0eJTJo_gVUavdI0k_yzq_a6m2I1vdN1fuQ53bFaIqwcjiPoCeKtybNSyHXqBUkULi76OeDNn/s400/d.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>We all wiped away tears </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">as he made his way over to where Rachael was sitting </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and gave her a big kiss before getting back in line</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">to await the judge’s decision. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">I spoke with Rachael as we were waiting </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and she told me that Brian had lost his leg only seven months ago</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and that he was still insecure about learning how to move around</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">in his prosthetic leg</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">which he got for Christmas. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">This cruise was her way of celebrating how far he'd come </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and to lift his spirits. </span><br /><br /></p><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQqNaCJi32cYrujp7Flx3qKtj1QpZibq6aBMrfgntlcCvNFje_A8eS3latF4OzRYysftqttRYf7pf_H6J90M1vZHy_4JhkBEB5kqh5c0rGS4dpxuWiPHwC9Y7pjkFwFkKRmBf0IbgJ3WYR/s1600/c.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 248px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554774682714162" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQqNaCJi32cYrujp7Flx3qKtj1QpZibq6aBMrfgntlcCvNFje_A8eS3latF4OzRYysftqttRYf7pf_H6J90M1vZHy_4JhkBEB5kqh5c0rGS4dpxuWiPHwC9Y7pjkFwFkKRmBf0IbgJ3WYR/s400/c.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">What we originally thought would be good for Brian,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">turned out to be an amazing lesson for all of us watching. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">We saw a hero whose bravery had remained strong</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">through the physical battlefield of Iraq</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">and through the emotional battlefield </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">of recovery. </span><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7145hi02ersjQaY4_KK8ocswEsQuSJRqMHaUv5cImwu8TWUSHwqoZ2-waPFpU4Ved50Xl6n4t14UMIKzqlOJYqI2FO1kaMtoPIcul6vUhzTxQhQ7tH6zgK48gHHph-yovW1MkJy2eDcNP/s1600/h.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554708029465106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7145hi02ersjQaY4_KK8ocswEsQuSJRqMHaUv5cImwu8TWUSHwqoZ2-waPFpU4Ved50Xl6n4t14UMIKzqlOJYqI2FO1kaMtoPIcul6vUhzTxQhQ7tH6zgK48gHHph-yovW1MkJy2eDcNP/s400/h.jpg" /></a> <br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">His heroism inspired in us</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">a new appreciation for the price of freedom. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">We shed tears as this American hero </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">took several steps toward healing himself, </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">but what we didn’t count on</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">was that with each step he took,</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">something in all of our hearts began to heal as well. </span><br /><br /></p><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmC5ziVgV8YThhL53H0SWXBCW3Kn0aFXO6ptWWhcXswFNSCRu4Iqj3Gc-jcon72Klt7gO4Lp-OMjqwMB5PDhvL8o3spqWV80rucc2nm0wkU7EWHeU5P1mSv9wr7c6cxvK8ZwlWzLWHgxO9/s1600/f.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554652293125266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmC5ziVgV8YThhL53H0SWXBCW3Kn0aFXO6ptWWhcXswFNSCRu4Iqj3Gc-jcon72Klt7gO4Lp-OMjqwMB5PDhvL8o3spqWV80rucc2nm0wkU7EWHeU5P1mSv9wr7c6cxvK8ZwlWzLWHgxO9/s400/f.jpg" /></a> <br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Many of us were brought face to face </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">with the silliness of our own insecurities</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">as we watched this soldier face his in a big way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>After what we saw on that day</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">how could any of us ever again say</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">that we can’t do something out of fear </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">or because of the risk of embarrassment?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>Courage inspires courage.</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"></span><br /><br /></p><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdpeQDx58pyW2T1lbsaAjb3vK-gRNsUxySPmyxlVZjSHVooNCtGq_4n0FjQMp0Xsxb5qwTUGldAGpG8JflagKlApTqXPySTAXuxY4J1K-FsDZZvnfU8h6XxMj0CPaYZY5lbXROE_rihsC5/s1600/j.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554600304168834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdpeQDx58pyW2T1lbsaAjb3vK-gRNsUxySPmyxlVZjSHVooNCtGq_4n0FjQMp0Xsxb5qwTUGldAGpG8JflagKlApTqXPySTAXuxY4J1K-FsDZZvnfU8h6XxMj0CPaYZY5lbXROE_rihsC5/s400/j.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">Many men in the audience were veterans of past wars.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>Their bodies bore the scars that told the stories</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">of the price of freedom in their own lives.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>Grey headed wives stood beside these men,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">their scars of worry were better concealed</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">but still as painful. </span><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49-lx9Tl3pliAhyZ1yYmouJltNxwvP4BJKmd_HkCva0yZiL2z2yVEA0XFP-1sMUUADHCDvozxg4vqIqGMlV0zXMSih1dmbGzcCJjkxkbaQJYbR1Q6nyM5h7wmxo5OD7osP76xGu5JRd0q/s1600/k.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554526289832306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg49-lx9Tl3pliAhyZ1yYmouJltNxwvP4BJKmd_HkCva0yZiL2z2yVEA0XFP-1sMUUADHCDvozxg4vqIqGMlV0zXMSih1dmbGzcCJjkxkbaQJYbR1Q6nyM5h7wmxo5OD7osP76xGu5JRd0q/s400/k.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">Like so many intangibles</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">the bond between people who have gone through similar tragedies</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">is as evident when they talk to each other</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">as it would be if they were tied together by a big unbreakable rope.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>When you witness people with this kind of bond,</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">it is undeniable. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">It is also essential to our emotional well- being</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">to relate to other people on the deep level of shared experiences.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>Hearing “I’ve been there son”</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">from war veterans must have soothed a part of Brian</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">like nothing else could. </span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing"><span style="font-family:Calibri;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiobRCjY3oo6ezVF06t1kk5Iv4DlUbwTc4YoBfSfTETcnybvEC3SC7CdtyGOyUXAlFKMBlV9doKWPTvQ_O4lW03GLgJL4lx2qqOl50OwAr_4wIhsNVmDhpqRkHLhFJHEhC4-MklVsyD2y8J/s1600/i.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554457171708210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiobRCjY3oo6ezVF06t1kk5Iv4DlUbwTc4YoBfSfTETcnybvEC3SC7CdtyGOyUXAlFKMBlV9doKWPTvQ_O4lW03GLgJL4lx2qqOl50OwAr_4wIhsNVmDhpqRkHLhFJHEhC4-MklVsyD2y8J/s400/i.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">Brian received a metal that day for winning the "Mr. Sexy Leg" contest,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">but his biggest gift was being embraced by an audience</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">whose appreciation was evident in their glistening eyes,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">their standing ovations,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">their hugs and handshakes. </span><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzQRdJCgsCOo1u0ezq7o_1_4W9QxL-IEuNpZ9SoO-8cNiOM3IlI_F7Xf_NsyjFvPVfz6rrZ9MBg9uxWYDKg19lUSi48mmnd5W-kvkjsm4_6VrNjq36tq_Z1xLW1qph54oBaJyRpQCxKPk/s1600/g.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554376733994178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwzQRdJCgsCOo1u0ezq7o_1_4W9QxL-IEuNpZ9SoO-8cNiOM3IlI_F7Xf_NsyjFvPVfz6rrZ9MBg9uxWYDKg19lUSi48mmnd5W-kvkjsm4_6VrNjq36tq_Z1xLW1qph54oBaJyRpQCxKPk/s400/g.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">In the middle of the Caribbean Sea</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">amidst steel drum bands</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and umbrella drinks,</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">I watched a broken man be put back together</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">one "thank you" at a time</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">and I watched a hero</span></p><br /><p style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt" class="MsoNoSpacing" align="center"><span style="font-family:Calibri;">make better Americans of us all. <o:p></o:p></span></p><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyoPE_Ro5fhAHJowWNOM2bHr0Fh6J_GAXMMilhl7r3X6B-9ol-JKyY-OcIgPSoU0PevE6zdp04pwWPe0pE3ql6OUjDWdNXCsz9Jit9rQYJTtlnqeo-XXu8qEVDAU0x-niDQaWdlrOlMioO/s1600/n.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554221862641922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyoPE_Ro5fhAHJowWNOM2bHr0Fh6J_GAXMMilhl7r3X6B-9ol-JKyY-OcIgPSoU0PevE6zdp04pwWPe0pE3ql6OUjDWdNXCsz9Jit9rQYJTtlnqeo-XXu8qEVDAU0x-niDQaWdlrOlMioO/s400/n.jpg" /></a> <span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">The change in Brian was immediately noticeable.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>Over the next few days I rarely saw him alone.</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"></span>He was always greeted with handshakes</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">and engaged in conversation. </span><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxriaQkqItHAnrLNLab1RYxHYUoeHaBHO3UUGMkZgtDz3lAUpz6T5h2kmKw4L3ZDbGJZWKHFUHaMo-bji6nDovcdNJi_g9U7nnoUiYkgH3rE70bDBrtHRk-6OniSjOherRTw-p7mU2MHtV/s1600/o.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554167778257346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxriaQkqItHAnrLNLab1RYxHYUoeHaBHO3UUGMkZgtDz3lAUpz6T5h2kmKw4L3ZDbGJZWKHFUHaMo-bji6nDovcdNJi_g9U7nnoUiYkgH3rE70bDBrtHRk-6OniSjOherRTw-p7mU2MHtV/s400/o.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">That hesitancy that I had seen in him before </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">was replaced by a broad smile,</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">a head held high</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">and what looked like pride to me.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></span><br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXUO7_vVs-0c5SJ86xNjbO8yRJqOxT4_EwcYr1Tca2zO4OZDRizTj17L6I7eUMof5oEjaBiWViRK7uM4x0TlN4Ko-rIzK_MouLAeoiYNjR_kcVxlyJGeZkFGCkCUV2R92DBFg5CE3qOK3/s1600/q.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5612554101911515330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivXUO7_vVs-0c5SJ86xNjbO8yRJqOxT4_EwcYr1Tca2zO4OZDRizTj17L6I7eUMof5oEjaBiWViRK7uM4x0TlN4Ko-rIzK_MouLAeoiYNjR_kcVxlyJGeZkFGCkCUV2R92DBFg5CE3qOK3/s400/q.jpg" /></a><br /><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">Later that week</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">on the very same pool deck that he had introduced himself</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">to a ship full of strangers, </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">Brian got down on one knee</span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">and proposed to Rachael. </span></div><br /><div align="center"><span style="LINE-HEIGHT: 115%; FONT-FAMILY: 'Calibri', 'sans-serif'; FONT-SIZE: 11pt; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: 'Times New Roman'; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA">She said yes!<br style="mso-special-character: line-break"><br style="mso-special-character: line-break"></span><br /></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-44665183663440972722011-05-25T11:19:00.023-04:002011-05-27T11:05:08.879-04:00both sides of the coin....<div align="center">The first stop on our Caribbean cruise was San Juan, Puerto Rico.</div><br /><div align="center">I was so excited to visit my first island.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9IV12JZr-DuS5z3gv2TBkHxlW-eK4Jsl3pwWC3PLChJ8O-KUxFPw7uF5IFwPNXzTCWZEHyQjygf2lScRaY-oTY7H4KG5c4N-KyuQbVcUisS-YKICTDFuG9fT3cfKZ2GjIDw99HtTL0Ie/s1600/61.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611401502380884642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn9IV12JZr-DuS5z3gv2TBkHxlW-eK4Jsl3pwWC3PLChJ8O-KUxFPw7uF5IFwPNXzTCWZEHyQjygf2lScRaY-oTY7H4KG5c4N-KyuQbVcUisS-YKICTDFuG9fT3cfKZ2GjIDw99HtTL0Ie/s400/61.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEViTlLqHTntZt2w3tKgjP4HLgSCCW5o4-x-MHt4gIoT0kLKOflYFYxgoCXZxtmfSmuzFPapiMjfAyv05NbrjC_q8bLwpWC-MZk44SnTcmBW4xgF2cmDK5PvkzStjeVBSXj6T6phKDCci/s1600/58.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611401386972551618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVEViTlLqHTntZt2w3tKgjP4HLgSCCW5o4-x-MHt4gIoT0kLKOflYFYxgoCXZxtmfSmuzFPapiMjfAyv05NbrjC_q8bLwpWC-MZk44SnTcmBW4xgF2cmDK5PvkzStjeVBSXj6T6phKDCci/s400/58.jpg" /></a>We found a great spot to watch us dock.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNBwIr-iaQSYucxU90R_2WaQu3uhPeBkshBzoWHQHSjscHR0JwRTKuuIp9dGlzZzzXbedVDeBVvRlHfnp47GLKikSfnOXdeSuOgE7Pu5n3O2sbLyy1sl5nfe1rNx-ArZRXdJ5LHYcSOSW/s1600/80.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611401237026760418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnNBwIr-iaQSYucxU90R_2WaQu3uhPeBkshBzoWHQHSjscHR0JwRTKuuIp9dGlzZzzXbedVDeBVvRlHfnp47GLKikSfnOXdeSuOgE7Pu5n3O2sbLyy1sl5nfe1rNx-ArZRXdJ5LHYcSOSW/s400/80.jpg" /></a>My first impression of San Juan</div><br /><div>was that it was very congested and</div><br /><div>kind of dirty. I could not believe how many cars</div><br /><div>were packed onto one narrow street!<br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGsqnHx9gq4q6o92pQ0NUwAImLFkCBBnhYnh17QmgrZDgAxx122KHw2irpbQxyke2wqh3ph2ALF71T4AZ-jSQffN5kSzyKzCwJZUowVAZbaAgJ76aFx3qhhXxfaq8O9j0RxwjiMfr_csbQ/s1600/78.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611401145446479762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGsqnHx9gq4q6o92pQ0NUwAImLFkCBBnhYnh17QmgrZDgAxx122KHw2irpbQxyke2wqh3ph2ALF71T4AZ-jSQffN5kSzyKzCwJZUowVAZbaAgJ76aFx3qhhXxfaq8O9j0RxwjiMfr_csbQ/s400/78.jpg" /></a><br />I did really like the colorful buildings though.</div><br /><div>The balconys on many of them</div><br /><div>reminded me alot of New Orleans.</div><br /><div>It was dreadfully hot on the day we were there, even at 5:00 pm.</div><br /><div>Mom and I walked the streets for a bit </div><br /><div>and visited some local shops.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCub4kSRJMDaPakk1jyIcuRzi_fdkvqghyXYXoz0QkO_6YVDALGOfBslWWifkUxi7iGU-BCCWJ8HmWtZY9SQYmZs9dYutfLYBNkmEl4cjxclyfHOw0X2FLF3rF_dZ3OHORmEIwHjP6jii/s1600/73.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611400948069274850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgCub4kSRJMDaPakk1jyIcuRzi_fdkvqghyXYXoz0QkO_6YVDALGOfBslWWifkUxi7iGU-BCCWJ8HmWtZY9SQYmZs9dYutfLYBNkmEl4cjxclyfHOw0X2FLF3rF_dZ3OHORmEIwHjP6jii/s400/73.jpg" /></a>Because we docked on Mother's Day</div><br /><div>which is a big day in Puerto Rico,</div><br /><div>alot of the attractions were closed.<br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvB3Rs3D_jk-ZPvTnYmT6NActZ3JA-wIYu3kONbZx0gqJGzDdQWJpVPigtPs5cLsgrq7U2nWAS6tlsEoiliZs0bBDPva1O4W8DKQJJPgnZ1MI99StMiKXb2N37sGEuAdGT04qxQuYIkdeG/s1600/77.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611400857736644258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvB3Rs3D_jk-ZPvTnYmT6NActZ3JA-wIYu3kONbZx0gqJGzDdQWJpVPigtPs5cLsgrq7U2nWAS6tlsEoiliZs0bBDPva1O4W8DKQJJPgnZ1MI99StMiKXb2N37sGEuAdGT04qxQuYIkdeG/s400/77.jpg" /></a>So after getting our fill of</div><br /><div>what was accessible by foot,</div><br /><div>we went back to the ship before dark </div><br /><div>and enjoyed a party under the stars on the pool deck</div><br /><div>that evening.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBt3NZqEBcIEjrZE8pogdxIqtbv41B3j7vrjYTbhQIVLR5_hK0J7YPhX8IUaocBFGpauwzfhRx19pyS8s5n6tQ_oJ7d8x9SXIg7X5Vx51uJWVPrH8UKMcHZnSEOQxdVECvGJ8_4wHQQ1ji/s1600/7.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611400732674007842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjBt3NZqEBcIEjrZE8pogdxIqtbv41B3j7vrjYTbhQIVLR5_hK0J7YPhX8IUaocBFGpauwzfhRx19pyS8s5n6tQ_oJ7d8x9SXIg7X5Vx51uJWVPrH8UKMcHZnSEOQxdVECvGJ8_4wHQQ1ji/s400/7.jpg" /></a>Stop #2 was a beach day!</div><br /><div>We docked in St. Thomas which I thought was</div><br /><div>stunningly beautiful!</div><br /><div>The water was a gorgeous turquoise and </div><br /><div>the beaches were almost as sugar white</div><br /><div>as Pensacola's beaches are.</div><br /><div>I would love to spend more time on this island.</div><br /><div>I was surprised at the prices of the homes<br />there. Even the ones with fabulous views</div><br /><div>were listed at around $600,000!</div><br /><div><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0BCYkhWlH1oPxwQjfNI15ne_rdKe6URGvY95nFNe4nc2zN-nxRE0-X6Q_NSnu7CHANt0kE47gR8SOgIQObDiUjFytsGvnjC9eo68WmTuM78_TpJ4Q6MFatohswnoh6m7yURGomMAjd31l/s1600/99.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611400543171671122" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg0BCYkhWlH1oPxwQjfNI15ne_rdKe6URGvY95nFNe4nc2zN-nxRE0-X6Q_NSnu7CHANt0kE47gR8SOgIQObDiUjFytsGvnjC9eo68WmTuM78_TpJ4Q6MFatohswnoh6m7yURGomMAjd31l/s400/99.jpg" /></a><br />We took a tour with a guide who dropped us off at </div><br /><div>a local beach. But first she drove like a maniac to the top of a mountain!</div><br /><div>In St. Thomas they drive on the other side of the street</div><br /><div>but they have American cars so their steering wheels</div><br /><div>are in the same place as ours.</div><br /><div>It would take some serious getting used to </div><br /><div>if I had to drive there!</div><br /><div></div><br /><div>After the gorgeous views on the mountain,</div><br /><div>we descended into a slummy looking neighborhood.</div><br /><div>It definitely didn't look like a place tourists would go.</div><br /><div>Our guide told us that the best beaches to visit were the local ones and</div><br /><div>Coki beach was definitely local!</div><br /><div>As soon as we rounded a corner,</div><br /><div>we were relieved to see that</div><br /><div>it was indeed a beautiful beach</div><br /><div>and there were other cruisers there as well.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMrRmL43H91mghWj7Oggqqq34-hQhVNM0nKCI2xGdl5K-VQcgaJ65FH9Gahp7rMvFHpnZFqDk8ApdfsXcTRR6JfkW5Vlf9oXn8wRcpH9rzFI_6nxemVnqsiLbLF1JaTtt7_sv1mXH4e4u5/s1600/106.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611400441400848898" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMrRmL43H91mghWj7Oggqqq34-hQhVNM0nKCI2xGdl5K-VQcgaJ65FH9Gahp7rMvFHpnZFqDk8ApdfsXcTRR6JfkW5Vlf9oXn8wRcpH9rzFI_6nxemVnqsiLbLF1JaTtt7_sv1mXH4e4u5/s400/106.jpg" /></a>Mom and I ordered fruity rum drinks and</div><br /><div>a fish dish that is common on the island.</div><br /><div>I'm not sure wha thte fish was called, </div><br /><div>but it was soooo good!<br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dqS2moeYdHxkWhJp5LqvSYna2nT4OX_fhkgtCYfBUYOxn_EweZgaS-RXBveN94HMSeEDfrfL5HMP8p2CtbTjdO34d7E6kG8z9ucUm5PUEa1jiO4rBbhRFaYMMsRqPk09RtNp4GlMSrGh/s1600/105.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611400350311893058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-dqS2moeYdHxkWhJp5LqvSYna2nT4OX_fhkgtCYfBUYOxn_EweZgaS-RXBveN94HMSeEDfrfL5HMP8p2CtbTjdO34d7E6kG8z9ucUm5PUEa1jiO4rBbhRFaYMMsRqPk09RtNp4GlMSrGh/s400/105.jpg" /></a>We snorkled and enjoyed the water at Coki beach.</div><br /><div>They gave us a dog biscuit to break up under water </div><br /><div>as we snorkled</div><br /><div>so that we could see the fish close up.</div><br /><div>On the surface, I didn't think we'd see much</div><br /><div>because even though the water was pretty clear,</div><br /><div>there didn't seem to be much fish action.</div><br /><div>As soon as I went underwater though,</div><br /><div>I was greeted by dozens of yellow and blue fish</div><br /><div>who apparently loved dog biscuits!</div><br /><div><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8PgQEKlKtcySen1Zzt8c4skqTCPzV3p3yf5Z7tJsrjKBigOY1tpnnyG2QWJqCnEyqpfk8ryVB7m9HljKgWdVaIO5oB7SsoIrEQqJHUkfRDAT4FOTQ-46b5neGW1eMxAPRUD_3PDzMI6Xx/s1600/116.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5611400028879647138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8PgQEKlKtcySen1Zzt8c4skqTCPzV3p3yf5Z7tJsrjKBigOY1tpnnyG2QWJqCnEyqpfk8ryVB7m9HljKgWdVaIO5oB7SsoIrEQqJHUkfRDAT4FOTQ-46b5neGW1eMxAPRUD_3PDzMI6Xx/s400/116.jpg" /></a>Our third stop was Samana, Dominican Republic.<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtS6zTRujkc-f3UKAbRNnhoTrlth7oSbq7QTgB8J2gY1HFWq3v6SPAso0f0Kgbmk8XxkA8NruvWd_4tRKyOrsNpx4cgoaYnij0XBDreibgfXUtWfN1tpeQ2yzNumhDPiowLWoqbm6ibrlA/s1600/125.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610674939204779730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtS6zTRujkc-f3UKAbRNnhoTrlth7oSbq7QTgB8J2gY1HFWq3v6SPAso0f0Kgbmk8XxkA8NruvWd_4tRKyOrsNpx4cgoaYnij0XBDreibgfXUtWfN1tpeQ2yzNumhDPiowLWoqbm6ibrlA/s400/125.jpg" /></a>We were given a tour through typical neighborhoods</div><br /><div>in Samana. Our guide kept telling us that we would see other people</div><br /><div>from our boat on the tour.</div><br /><div>The deeper we got into the back roads</div><br /><div>the more he told us that.</div><br /><div>We were beginning to think that he was </div><br /><div>just telling us that to keep us calm</div><br /><div>so they could eat us!</div><br /><div>I was even starting to size the guide and driver up</div><br /><div>to determine whether I or another tour mate could take them,</div><br /><div>but alas, we saw lots of other cruisers</div><br /><div>and our fears subsided.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJIhx_bxcwFOPmtQormltRerfJFP54NTS0cn0ej6Z8jiw5vx0_Zo5amOF-NrnKkze5nc1dZQIORwX1SpWcXydFH7tXZFYC8q64yyY3qAYveoZD2X0yxetd-x0Mg6Ld2GEw1y50zJCypPst/s1600/126.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610674773341493170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJIhx_bxcwFOPmtQormltRerfJFP54NTS0cn0ej6Z8jiw5vx0_Zo5amOF-NrnKkze5nc1dZQIORwX1SpWcXydFH7tXZFYC8q64yyY3qAYveoZD2X0yxetd-x0Mg6Ld2GEw1y50zJCypPst/s400/126.jpg" /></a>Tourism is the only industry in Samana</div><br /><div>and the people struggle for everything they get.</div><br /><div>I saw the skinniest dogs I have ever seen there</div><br /><div>and lots of children eating fruit off of the trees in their yards.</div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCmnzsZCRnqOshaP36zhQAbWuEdH8U3g0AgrBSaeCyuYK0RvhnxKBLsPEtyjkhscEApu9aW3FR0kcM5JaClefptD1Yw1TAUpPfG5XdmKpS3EE8dx8U2qIRwF7Op3ovWORllrTkkMlgZZZD/s1600/128.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610674688425432210" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCmnzsZCRnqOshaP36zhQAbWuEdH8U3g0AgrBSaeCyuYK0RvhnxKBLsPEtyjkhscEApu9aW3FR0kcM5JaClefptD1Yw1TAUpPfG5XdmKpS3EE8dx8U2qIRwF7Op3ovWORllrTkkMlgZZZD/s400/128.jpg" /></a> There were children everywhere</div><br /><div>and all of them wanted gum or lolli pops </div><br /><div>from us. </div><br /><div>Mom brought a bag full to give away.<br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjpO8t7jSZlfs_i5vbgcf1PpumJjvBg26JmFoxKjkz0o068r2fKIruCV3QFMp3_z35hHKnSI2iinuwwYmbs4CbiTefk7OMSgZw_GIH09goDElWYREfhHKpgtm7PkGDbtiy1N3BijiMP8y/s1600/129.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610674608896961170" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUjpO8t7jSZlfs_i5vbgcf1PpumJjvBg26JmFoxKjkz0o068r2fKIruCV3QFMp3_z35hHKnSI2iinuwwYmbs4CbiTefk7OMSgZw_GIH09goDElWYREfhHKpgtm7PkGDbtiy1N3BijiMP8y/s400/129.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGaDlAaqInyRn0OdwDQNMI5WF3SC8NM8Dy1QiOsRkEDEzlCGEfksDLTi2GAVawOivaYbwNTBqOKV8UVz4SXrUdiignN5mRFawqByBmkL17E0dxzqUpGrThq3Htbhy4tmFuuj6eIpKTfRK/s1600/130.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610674510831264754" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuGaDlAaqInyRn0OdwDQNMI5WF3SC8NM8Dy1QiOsRkEDEzlCGEfksDLTi2GAVawOivaYbwNTBqOKV8UVz4SXrUdiignN5mRFawqByBmkL17E0dxzqUpGrThq3Htbhy4tmFuuj6eIpKTfRK/s400/130.jpg" /></a><br />Local helpers assisted us across creeks</div><br /><div>as we walked through the "jungle" to </div><br /><div>see a waterfall.<br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVuvwznqWR94LoqgBdcKvlrbUoVDLl8fPpqvruLCInd5jOaIKZnfUVpaCNJT2NfCRVnPYg8AXUuEW1aE_urVbc0M-y4mIncmhGp8grxE6csto_etTDFiPZdZAm4g6ZQUCCcr1yGIr__mF/s1600/11.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610674370993447346" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDVuvwznqWR94LoqgBdcKvlrbUoVDLl8fPpqvruLCInd5jOaIKZnfUVpaCNJT2NfCRVnPYg8AXUuEW1aE_urVbc0M-y4mIncmhGp8grxE6csto_etTDFiPZdZAm4g6ZQUCCcr1yGIr__mF/s400/11.jpg" /></a>The locals walk beside you the whole way</div><br /><div>ready to assist you if you need help navigating the rocky part of the path.</div><br /><div>They had hopes of getting a tip for their guidance.</div><br /><div>I think my helper was in training</div><br /><div>because I had a 13 year old boy hold my hand the entire way.</div><br /><div>At the beginning a woman said something to him in spanish</div><br /><div>and he grabbed my hand and didn't let go.</div><br /><div>Mom and her helper Naomi walked in front of us</div><br /><div>and Naomi often looked back and laughed at </div><br /><div>my helper who was holding my hand even on long stretches</div><br /><div>of flat ground.</div><br /><div>I'm sure that woman told him, "Grab her hand and stay with her </div><br /><div>so you can get a tip" or something like that!</div><br /><div>I did tip my funny escort.<br /><br /><br /></div><br /><div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiPZsC88fZuItiSAIcIVosKX23Oog_BkGuDvH99B7vE0Uk_M1nQoaMLzHR-aVFHnZgUkuBd4Zvk3AwU1I4tASEOwNlalzZZJJdK2_EOo946cQ1OPPNPr9waHawwc35J76hreGEBaSHUwd/s1600/146.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610674198702627986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikiPZsC88fZuItiSAIcIVosKX23Oog_BkGuDvH99B7vE0Uk_M1nQoaMLzHR-aVFHnZgUkuBd4Zvk3AwU1I4tASEOwNlalzZZJJdK2_EOo946cQ1OPPNPr9waHawwc35J76hreGEBaSHUwd/s400/146.jpg" /></a> The shacks that the people of Samana live in </div><br /><div>are in stark contrast to the beauty around them.</div><br /><div>They live with so little which is such an eye-opener</div><br /><div>to us Americans who have been blessed with so much.</div><br /><div>I would love for my kids to experience something like this</div><br /><div>and see first hand how other cultures live with so much less </div><br /><div>than we do.</div><br /><div><br /><br /></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiOk6TSIY-qDo5tOIuNxRga0a6YBOIc6GGZ3Vp1F-NL_H1D8GcfTBGv394N3m5Np4rU1nJkCQ7BnDsJjxmgNAjNeB_6Zzi93lTGkU_cWud3Ch850oJVDEXw7CrIANGL-Z6Qmjn1D40lDqk/s1600/138.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5610674081635552370" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiOk6TSIY-qDo5tOIuNxRga0a6YBOIc6GGZ3Vp1F-NL_H1D8GcfTBGv394N3m5Np4rU1nJkCQ7BnDsJjxmgNAjNeB_6Zzi93lTGkU_cWud3Ch850oJVDEXw7CrIANGL-Z6Qmjn1D40lDqk/s400/138.jpg" /></a>In St. Thomas, I felt like I was in shopping heaven</div><br /><div>and I found so many things that I wanted to buy.</div><br /><div>In Samana all I could think of was what I wanted to give.</div><br /><div>Samana was my favorite port.</div><br /><div>It was so meaningful to me to see both sides of the coin.<br /><br /></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-67583038942990467382011-05-17T09:47:00.017-04:002011-05-17T10:37:17.692-04:002 mommas and a cruise ship!<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqajjeHPgR2_rqV4TKs2rwloG8bA3DcSCMZNkbRCntxi53x4wIaOWYL05lgxZQQjmv8EOpx9D4PlEoDKAGXJW4ZFMWJUmF4FVVKDUetOL3jhCg5bQ9SuOXXCLkIoUesVgWqVGmewCOrMn/s1600/21.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607683669273855282" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLqajjeHPgR2_rqV4TKs2rwloG8bA3DcSCMZNkbRCntxi53x4wIaOWYL05lgxZQQjmv8EOpx9D4PlEoDKAGXJW4ZFMWJUmF4FVVKDUetOL3jhCg5bQ9SuOXXCLkIoUesVgWqVGmewCOrMn/s400/21.jpg" /></a> For Mother's Day this year my mom and I went on a 9 day</div><br /><div align="center">cruise to the Caribbean!</div><br /><div align="center">It was so fun getting to spend so much time with her.</div><br /><div align="center">We stayed up late at night talking </div><br /><div align="center">and laughing like girlfriends do.<br /></div><br /><div align="center">Being able to just relax and have a good time</div><br /><div align="center">was such a blessing for both of us.<br /></div><br /><div align="center">Before we even hit our first island,</div><br /><div align="center">I knew that this was going to be </div><br /><div align="center">a week of fun.<br /></div><br /><div align="center">On our second day at sea</div><br /><div align="center">mom decided to judge the</div><br /><div align="center">"Mr. Sexy Legs" competition for a reason I will</div><br /><div align="center">share in an upcoming story.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6s2WrbHTPueuRRx0ShdR_Pf9E4NVLUeEajvZvIcmO3x9Aa8l4RHgqhNwV020lk9BPdeAV_Hsv1XeJNI_YhDCbc8PU9pJpCdA71dcpjnwF_DJxQdRYUoypBzKpPGgLcN1n7cs1_ZaWTDy-/s1600/22.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607683496883434786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6s2WrbHTPueuRRx0ShdR_Pf9E4NVLUeEajvZvIcmO3x9Aa8l4RHgqhNwV020lk9BPdeAV_Hsv1XeJNI_YhDCbc8PU9pJpCdA71dcpjnwF_DJxQdRYUoypBzKpPGgLcN1n7cs1_ZaWTDy-/s400/22.jpg" /></a><br />It was hilarious watching all of the guys</div><br /><div align="center">strut their stuff,</div><br /><div align="center">or whatever stuff they thought they had,</div><br /><div align="center">and it was even more hysterical watching</div><br /><div align="center">my mom's reaction! </div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIWjstF2t6BXFI01OSkgDiEDSKvjjFdHMNbW5gKX1C2Q5YbqSYwgFpPfhKgU801g1Qtgm3cbs9BoDGB8vT__kuq2u4nN2ueuxPqeFVrKUKC3BCJUKLVJ-R1YCGitFfk3qhKvzBDCW0fvmC/s1600/27.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607683429198777922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIWjstF2t6BXFI01OSkgDiEDSKvjjFdHMNbW5gKX1C2Q5YbqSYwgFpPfhKgU801g1Qtgm3cbs9BoDGB8vT__kuq2u4nN2ueuxPqeFVrKUKC3BCJUKLVJ-R1YCGitFfk3qhKvzBDCW0fvmC/s400/27.jpg" /></a>She was having a great time </div><br /><div align="center">even though she was way out of her comfort zone!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiec_Y2qi4SR4Muw79d800TCH7NnFmii5rKaYffqYE7k9jCf8T5P-8F1uKTJpoz5wt6-nSISh0R2Fqxhq8nRFILm6_6xeTSDy4txKlLs79chDqTNNLcxZtF52mi7R-A_tN67-8T-w4ELeV/s1600/23.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607683361249971922" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiec_Y2qi4SR4Muw79d800TCH7NnFmii5rKaYffqYE7k9jCf8T5P-8F1uKTJpoz5wt6-nSISh0R2Fqxhq8nRFILm6_6xeTSDy4txKlLs79chDqTNNLcxZtF52mi7R-A_tN67-8T-w4ELeV/s400/23.jpg" /></a>She was responsible for picking<br />the most athletic legs winner<br />and had one of four votes to decide the overall winner.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79eIUQ3F-eVXDwh9IJJJGV4d86uW6gFF_8P4w9hXF4-sDBNDGESzOyc7XD0PiRxqTzkATWWwjueHX5c8jWG8Dn3BOGa79ilnErQRISDQoPjNzriVp4d8mzl0pDgTZVADNO5hnoSKcl0AH/s1600/24.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607683214274523042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg79eIUQ3F-eVXDwh9IJJJGV4d86uW6gFF_8P4w9hXF4-sDBNDGESzOyc7XD0PiRxqTzkATWWwjueHX5c8jWG8Dn3BOGa79ilnErQRISDQoPjNzriVp4d8mzl0pDgTZVADNO5hnoSKcl0AH/s400/24.jpg" /></a>The over all winner is part of a story I am going to tell<br />for Memorial Day,<br />so I won't spoil it by adding<br />any photos of him yet.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpxznJj-WALM-Y3brztD0eCXozZzPyjsrzNO5xvMoSSHthXZCIa06Eusf9kUKmNAN_Q1-5Qk79teaTb3B3ja1Fc4stXMz4xCs9aCqD-sV2n8VRRDr7Ma_Crn5p4hSEJ0dj12rP1ABC3Eeg/s1600/43.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607683113027706962" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpxznJj-WALM-Y3brztD0eCXozZzPyjsrzNO5xvMoSSHthXZCIa06Eusf9kUKmNAN_Q1-5Qk79teaTb3B3ja1Fc4stXMz4xCs9aCqD-sV2n8VRRDr7Ma_Crn5p4hSEJ0dj12rP1ABC3Eeg/s400/43.jpg" /></a>Now judging is one thing....<br />competing is a whole other ball game!<br />Before she knew it, mom was in a line up<br />for the "Best Biceps" women's competition!<br />Because she has been a judge, she and her fellow judges<br />were automatically entered into this contest.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvgZyXNk2kXKhs4M3M0oXvLY77YQXL_I4-iyL1zo9vnRTQKNUoO5wJaWly-SlsUPuJEHRP8PEow9tUDAmv0kjRz4BuQ6o9MYzaNnUGwHU8u5FcSuXPEi1gh3alUSYc1fetSSLHCl4yGhE/s1600/44.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607683046553640770" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNvgZyXNk2kXKhs4M3M0oXvLY77YQXL_I4-iyL1zo9vnRTQKNUoO5wJaWly-SlsUPuJEHRP8PEow9tUDAmv0kjRz4BuQ6o9MYzaNnUGwHU8u5FcSuXPEi1gh3alUSYc1fetSSLHCl4yGhE/s400/44.jpg" /></a> I know when she woke up that morning.<br />the last thing she thought she would be doing<br />was dancing down the pool deck<br />in front of a cheering audience and four judges!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuV9BRD4hnSz_xq6UWzW9ehys9ye4e2vZHEfTgAfsk6du8VWAWrhG_Ko4FjaAik9-tsgFJe2sKc49lzzimutbit6BsAaggU4-8nLcj9AZ5XmrGxVipxjdnYTtiFMN3V1Qwj5R3_QONyakn/s1600/45.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5607682939258978674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuV9BRD4hnSz_xq6UWzW9ehys9ye4e2vZHEfTgAfsk6du8VWAWrhG_Ko4FjaAik9-tsgFJe2sKc49lzzimutbit6BsAaggU4-8nLcj9AZ5XmrGxVipxjdnYTtiFMN3V1Qwj5R3_QONyakn/s400/45.jpg" /></a>But she turned on that charm of hers<br />and did it anyway.<br />I am so proud of her!<br />(and I'm super happy<br />that I have the photos to prove this!)<br /><br />Telling the stories of our cruise is far too involved for one post, so<br />I will break it up by island/day<br />and will post the photos and details all this week and next week.<br /><br />Until then,<br />blue skies and umbrella drinks for everyone<br />and a little steel drum music too!<br /><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-82792675278639293472011-03-21T13:40:00.006-04:002011-03-21T15:39:27.968-04:00the avocado tree<div align="center">We were first introduced to avocados</div><div align="center">during our time in southern California</div><div align="center">almost 9 years ago.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">There were rows and rows of them growing</div><div align="center">in the orchards we would pass </div><div align="center">when we were out in town.</div><div align="center">They quickly became one of my favorite sandwhich toppings</div><div align="center">and fresh guacamole was a staple at our house.</div><br /><div align="center">Since then, I've been buying them whenever</div><div align="center">we have a mexican themed dinner</div><div align="center">and to add to my turkey sandwhiches.</div><br /><div align="center">It wasn't until we moved here to </div><div align="center">Maryland that we attempted</div><div align="center">the classic avocado seed experiment.</div><br /><div align="center">Last Fall my mom and Brendell</div><div align="center">rigged up an avocado seed with toothpicks</div><div align="center">and placed it in a jar of water.</div><div align="center">Within a few weeks we had sprouts.</div><div align="center">Those sprouts got bigger and bigger</div><div align="center">and before we knew it we had</div><div align="center">big green leaves!</div><br /><div align="center">It has been fascinating to watch this thing grow!</div><div align="center">It is almost twice as tall now as it was</div><div align="center">in these photos and it sits</div><div align="center">in the window above our sink</div><div align="center">where we all comment from time to time </div><div align="center">about how well it's doing.</div><br /><br /><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpoP3fPFpUg2yKpvtgJPShSvyWTXpEb6m5AaGGfrPX7xyRoyMINDP31SWghQzGWhx6bGzGTUROwfKnjNHdVnNMV9egRFEXBYxTp9tOpNfBWcCufhcM9pHkjzVEFOITFngsfVeeUR5Tcg9Q/s1600/6.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586596007467105858" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpoP3fPFpUg2yKpvtgJPShSvyWTXpEb6m5AaGGfrPX7xyRoyMINDP31SWghQzGWhx6bGzGTUROwfKnjNHdVnNMV9egRFEXBYxTp9tOpNfBWcCufhcM9pHkjzVEFOITFngsfVeeUR5Tcg9Q/s400/6.jpg" /></a><br />But this little plant will never produce fruit.<br />Even if we put it in soil and take care of it properly.<br />If it does produce fruit, it will take 7 to 15 years<br />and it will not be the same kind of fruit produced<br />by it's parent plant<br />and that fruit will not be edible.<br /><br />Strange that something that appears to be so vibrant<br />and so healthy and something that we have watched grow<br />from a seed<br />will never do what it was created to do.<br /><br />But there is hope.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKM-FFKlrjWPQ9k6cQJNV76n0_WPku6G1cyENkK6Ff4DfEaF5E4smDuiyiKmwU8dKCzpLpTqdNQo4woOz6A5B576yfUHb_Igia111fLTfnuDRmk_ulFIzy_BmOaK4gPaSwGW0wGp0gRoX/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586595966288928402" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiUKM-FFKlrjWPQ9k6cQJNV76n0_WPku6G1cyENkK6Ff4DfEaF5E4smDuiyiKmwU8dKCzpLpTqdNQo4woOz6A5B576yfUHb_Igia111fLTfnuDRmk_ulFIzy_BmOaK4gPaSwGW0wGp0gRoX/s400/5.jpg" /></a><br />This plant can be grafted into a high producing<br />well established tree.<br /><div>Grafting is the process of combining the root system</div><div>of a new plant with a branch from a hearty producing tree.</div><br /><div>Grafting is the only means of achieving</div><div>edible avocados in plants grown from seeds </div><div>because plants that are grown from seeds</div><div>like our little experiment plant</div><div>are hybrids and their fruit</div><div>if they produce any at all</div><div> is inedible</div><div>unless merged with a producing tree.<br /></div><div></div><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUKprv9joBDw3fwM3tPX6u9VejrXCdCVKwTfAurOfObRhEzBAZVEB2tQDdYtZGfWgJc1-gfRyp2eil3o8rDc0fIS2EagiDYsbQIixcJCTlY1kMsQj6aFcWFOZXWaKvSdI0Sm86TnaULSxU/s1600/7.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5586595911791755986" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUKprv9joBDw3fwM3tPX6u9VejrXCdCVKwTfAurOfObRhEzBAZVEB2tQDdYtZGfWgJc1-gfRyp2eil3o8rDc0fIS2EagiDYsbQIixcJCTlY1kMsQj6aFcWFOZXWaKvSdI0Sm86TnaULSxU/s400/7.jpg" /></a></div><br /><div></div><br /><div>It is almost impossible for me to hear</div><div>of this process and not think of the Bible passage found in</div><div>John 15:1-8.</div><div> </div><div>Unless we are grafted into the True Vine,</div><div>we will not produce effective fruit.<br /> No matter how much sunlight or water we get,</div><div>no matter how straight and strong our stem seems to be,</div><div>no matter how green our leaves,</div><div>no matter how many admirers are standing around</div><div>talking about how great we are,</div><div>no matter how far we've come from </div><div>that little seed.....</div><div>there will be no effective fruit without </div><div>the merging of ourselves with </div><div>the one who is our source!</div><div> </div><div>So the next time I see an avocado,</div><div>just seconds before I think of </div><div>guacamole and orchards full of trees</div><div>loaded with green fruit that tastes </div><div>like a vegetable,</div><div>I will think of what a wonderful picture</div><div> that odd shaped fruit is</div><div>of my utter uselessness apart</div><div>from God who is the source of my life.....</div><div>and then I will pick a nice soft ripe one</div><div>and grab the tortillas chips!</div><div> </div><div> </div><div> </div><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-44439048800815707662011-01-25T10:22:00.004-05:002011-01-25T11:39:10.618-05:00Restoration Hardware<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimY09p9s1pYxuYTF6awJcATEJq8t7vtCwY2oW4eW-JWdXihfSESxRwWeeevuY9prSbkftoecWoZChEdo_dEVrq0p7MgPCYS4f_WjlNtdXfVc4m6RrX9WMrE-FM-IqfQXuVMRaXcxjAma8/s1600/a.jpg"></a> <div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggui6i6eyqwI6lCfz9p1f9vBcgBXfpvDAKsDYulUFRvmRIIkb8RN93T18735nqA9aHwr5tF4nkEMKEN-m1lDXci0U48JKpI0d-fmklNGFX0A34wKH85yuIXWja1S1GB-HlbH1s46DwQQsW/s1600/a4.jpg"></a><br /><br /><div align="center"><span style="font-size:130%;"><strong>{Res.tor.a.tion} .n.</strong></span></div><div align="center"><br /> </div><div align="center">The act of restoring; renewal, revivial or reestablishment.</div><div align="center">The state or fact of being restored.</div><div align="center">A return of something to it's former, original or normal condition.</div><div align="center">Restitution of something taken away or lost.</div><div align="center">Something that is restored as by renovating.</div><div align="center">A putting back to a former position, dignity, ect.<br /></div><div align="center">Restoration.</div><div align="center">I've been thinking alot about that word lately.</div><div align="center">In fact it seems to be invading my thoughts</div><div align="center">with such force, that I am having a hard time</div><div align="center">thinking about much else.</div><div align="center">Usually when this happens, </div><div align="center">it means that it's time for me to pay attention</div><div align="center">to the word or concept if I want to get any peace at all.</div><div align="center">Otherwise, it will keep hounding me in my sleep</div><div align="center">and in my fully conscious mind until I do.</div><br /><div align="center">Restoration.</div><div align="center">The above definitions are glorious.</div><div align="center">I was so pleased when I read them because</div><div align="center">they open up for me such extraordinarily rich pictures</div><div align="center">of what this word means. </div><div align="center"><br /> </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimY09p9s1pYxuYTF6awJcATEJq8t7vtCwY2oW4eW-JWdXihfSESxRwWeeevuY9prSbkftoecWoZChEdo_dEVrq0p7MgPCYS4f_WjlNtdXfVc4m6RrX9WMrE-FM-IqfQXuVMRaXcxjAma8/s1600/a.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 265px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566162212056422578" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjimY09p9s1pYxuYTF6awJcATEJq8t7vtCwY2oW4eW-JWdXihfSESxRwWeeevuY9prSbkftoecWoZChEdo_dEVrq0p7MgPCYS4f_WjlNtdXfVc4m6RrX9WMrE-FM-IqfQXuVMRaXcxjAma8/s400/a.jpg" /></a><br /><div align="center">When I think of the word restoration,</div><div align="center">my mind immediately jumps to an old house</div><div align="center">that we once called home.</div><div align="center">The dilapidated New England farm house was built </div><div align="center">high on a hill in Portsmouth, Rhode Island</div><div align="center">in the 1890s.</div><div align="center">A long time admirer of old houses full of stories,</div><div align="center">I couldn't wait to move in and set up house</div><div align="center">within her walls.</div><div align="center">From the moment I laid eyes on her</div><div align="center">I knew what she was supposed to be.</div><div align="center">In her early years,</div><div align="center">she must have sat magestically on that hill</div><div align="center">overlooking the Narraganset Bay;</div><div align="center">her windows reflecting the evening sun as it</div><div align="center">dropped into the water after one last</div><div align="center">glistening nod to the day.<br /></div><div align="center">But many years had gone by.</div><div align="center">Battles had been fought on her grounds </div><div align="center">and harsh weather weakend her foundations</div><div align="center">and battered her frame.</div><div align="center">Some improvements and updates</div><div align="center">had been made through the years</div><div align="center">but her glory days seemed a distant memory.</div><div align="center"><br /> </div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 266px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5566162152648553490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggui6i6eyqwI6lCfz9p1f9vBcgBXfpvDAKsDYulUFRvmRIIkb8RN93T18735nqA9aHwr5tF4nkEMKEN-m1lDXci0U48JKpI0d-fmklNGFX0A34wKH85yuIXWja1S1GB-HlbH1s46DwQQsW/s400/a4.jpg" /> <div align="center">I loved her though.</div><div align="center">I filled her porch full of flowers and </div><div align="center">ran my fingers over the antique wooden banister that</div><div align="center">lined her narrow stair case.</div><div align="center">She was beautiful to me.</div><div align="center">I polished her worn floors and hung pictures </div><div align="center">on her scarred walls.</div><div align="center">I knew that she was probably well beyond</div><div align="center">what it would take in this economy to </div><div align="center">bring her back to her former glory,</div><div align="center">but I still saw it.</div><div align="center">I overlooked her drafty windows and her</div><div align="center">cracked driveway,</div><div align="center">and I lived in her as if she were</div><div align="center">the most magnificent mansion I had ever seen.<br /></div><div align="center">Someday, a restoration specialist</div><div align="center">will see in her what I saw.</div><div align="center">He will know exactly what to do.</div><div align="center">He will knock down walls and strip wood.</div><div align="center">He will tear down and build up.</div><div align="center">She will be made new from the inside out.</div><div align="center">He will skillfully pour into her exactly what she needs</div><div align="center">and she will shine again.<br /></div><div align="center">What a beautiful concept restoration is!</div><div align="center">I'm sure many of us can think of at least a dozen things in our</div><div align="center">lives that are as battered and beaten </div><div align="center">as my beloved New England house and</div><div align="center">we know that without restoration,</div><div align="center">they will crumble.<br /></div><div align="center">It could be our relationship with our husband or wife,</div><div align="center">our kids, a parent or a friend, or maybe </div><div align="center">it is that we need God to restore something in us,</div><div align="center">our hope, our joy or our faith.</div><div align="center">Maybe we've experienced some pain in our lives</div><div align="center">and we have followed that pain down</div><div align="center">destructive roads so far that we feel like</div><div align="center">we can never be brought back to the beginning</div><div align="center">and live as though we had made a different choice.<br /></div><div align="center">Restoration is a core need in all of our lives.</div><div align="center">It is a need that only a skilled restoration specialist can fill.</div><div align="center">Trying to do the job without one is like</div><div align="center">slapping a coat of paint</div><div align="center">on a peeling wall.</div><div align="center">In all of our good intentioned trying,</div><div align="center">we will never be able to successfully restore</div><div align="center">anything without the necessary tools or hardware</div><div align="center">that is needed to do the job right.</div><div align="center">All our efforts amount to polished floors</div><div align="center">and flowers on the porch</div><div align="center">but only the healing hand of a specialist</div><div align="center">can tear out the old and rebuild the new</div><div align="center">in such a way that the former glory is restored</div><div align="center">in grandiose splendor!<br /></div><div align="center">I know a restoration specialist if you are looking for one.</div><div align="center">Even if you've already tried to rebuild yourself and things aren't going well,</div><div align="center">He'll know exactly what to do.</div><div align="center">He'll take your project in any condition.</div><div align="center">Nothing is too far gone or too messed up for him.</div><div align="center">He is a master renovator.</div><div align="center">His address is 2 Cor 5:17-21 </div><div align="center">and Isaiah 43:18-19.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center">And best of all,</div><div align="center">He's totally free!</div><br /><br /><div align="center"></div></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-1337285711168329092011-01-19T13:00:00.007-05:002011-01-19T13:53:49.050-05:00The fine line at the end of our driveway.<div align="center">So we've had 7 year old attitude</div><div align="center">up to our ears for the past </div><div align="center">few weeks.</div><div align="center">I'm not sure what has gotten into our</div><div align="center">little princess, but she has </div><div align="center">taken sass to the next level lately!</div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcQFTRkYsRuKywLDtxZ8x2WEXQBNxDvOloBRIuEHRWo_1e6GB4dNqPb-nuFo6o9oHMKdtBKqJGw6t-PfsmWKz5qVN-EVGZW38XHjfp9KIQnRKmu3yd125tq1rphjnBLVbrrMoMCBKkqyp/s1600/2w.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563959695065043618" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjdcQFTRkYsRuKywLDtxZ8x2WEXQBNxDvOloBRIuEHRWo_1e6GB4dNqPb-nuFo6o9oHMKdtBKqJGw6t-PfsmWKz5qVN-EVGZW38XHjfp9KIQnRKmu3yd125tq1rphjnBLVbrrMoMCBKkqyp/s400/2w.jpg" /></a> This morning we were waiting for the school bus</div><div align="center">and the sass monster bit again.</div><div align="center">Brendell's timing is impecable because</div><div align="center">her bus was rumbling </div><div align="center">down the street</div><div align="center">just as the defiant words were </div><div align="center">coming out of her mouth.</div><div align="center">As the bus groaned to a stop and </div><div align="center">the doors squeeked open,</div><div align="center">I was still sizzling from</div><div align="center">frustration and ok, I'll admit it, anger</div><div align="center">at the little thing bounding up the school bus steps.</div><div align="center">How dare she talk to me that way!</div><div align="center">She knows better!</div><div align="center">I bet other little girls don't sass their moms as </div><div align="center">much as she sasses me!</div><div align="center">What the heck am I doing wrong?!</div><div align="center">Each thought seared through my brain</div><div align="center">and sucked out my joy</div><div align="center">and a good bit of my ability to reason </div><div align="center">by the time she was seated.</div><div align="center">I looked up at the window and saw</div><div align="center">the familiar round cheeked smile</div><div align="center">come across her face as she raised her hand to wave.</div><div align="center">Stunned and seething I reluctantly put my hand in the air</div><div align="center">but my smile was slow to appear.</div><div align="center">She frowned and slowly took her hand down</div><div align="center">only to bring it up again when I finally let my</div><div align="center">smile swallow up my raw emotions </div><div align="center">and waved more energetically.<img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563959651625828098" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqTur2eVZTEOOiiR3J-mig9C0yVPnmZ6OxkPTRzB9iw8kO-3dk88bkHifmcaOnBJTu06O57cGXCcWeCf2yMsJ8IJ-Ci6Dki1ATRhqhWfxVUdVHjgTzbCrqITOe2l3b_k1UocA5uzCtRfGp/s400/4w.jpg" /></div><div align="center">All morning the shocked saddness in her eyes </div><div align="center">when she didn't see me </div><div align="center">joyfully bidding her goodbye as I usually do</div><div align="center">haunted me and pricked at my heart.</div><div align="center">I felt guilty because I hadn't wanted to smile back.</div><div align="center">I hadn't wanted to wave.</div><div align="center">I wanted to teach her a lesson and</div><div align="center">stomp off and deny her</div><div align="center">my acceptance.</div><div align="center">Ug!</div><div align="center">How selfish and immature of me!</div><div align="center">What right did I have to deny my deviant child</div><div align="center">the pleasure of my complete and utter delight </div><div align="center">at who she is and the gift I have in her?</div><div align="center">It is her actions that I do not accept,</div><div align="center">not her as a person.</div><div align="center">She would have gotten the opposite </div><div align="center">message this morning </div><div align="center">had I not pushed my anger down.</div><div align="center">Today at the end of our driveway, I walked that fine line </div><div align="center">between righteous admonition</div><div align="center">and selfish manipulation</div><div align="center">and for a few seconds I had my </div><div align="center">foot firmly planted in ugly indignation.<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmid0pEeM8vqsrKfSKIhR1KG7ZyvYyHJfbqSvaRdeGOsVxpR1WZ5oXVYzmP3vce1V7ESzXGKH-f2a97PnTIYY6wwOoAAvGswzvDDz48ESQmlHpdolgJaKP_qB544CUHgv8P4vwXI-BGKv/s1600/3w.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5563959592094920306" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWmid0pEeM8vqsrKfSKIhR1KG7ZyvYyHJfbqSvaRdeGOsVxpR1WZ5oXVYzmP3vce1V7ESzXGKH-f2a97PnTIYY6wwOoAAvGswzvDDz48ESQmlHpdolgJaKP_qB544CUHgv8P4vwXI-BGKv/s400/3w.jpg" /></a> I am so thankful that my creator<br />doesn't do that to me when<br />I sass Him.<br />He has never kept his affection from me.<br />His thoughts toward me are<br />always good.<br />He sees me as redeemed and clean.<br />He loves me wildly with a perfect<br />love that I don't deserve,<br />but it is so freely lavished on me<br />not because of who I am<br />but because of who He is!<br />I can't do anything to make Him love me less<br />and I can't do anything to make Him love me more.<br />He's always there waving enthusiastically<br />with a great big smile and a heart<br />full of love for me<br />no matter how I have behaved.<br />Oh how I want to portray that image<br />to my children!<br />I know that the disciplinary style of a parent<br />can greatly affect the child's view of God.<br />I don't want them to think that if they<br />do something wrong<br />that God withdrawls from them.<br />I want them to know that<br />no matter how many rules they break<br />or how many times they disobey,<br />I will always accept them for who they are<br />and I will not withhold my love and<br />affection for them.<br />This certainly doesn't mean that there are no consequences<br />for doing something wrong.<br />But it does mean that the way I see my kids<br />and what I think about them<br />in my heart<br />is not what is at stake<br />when they disobey.<br />They are loved totally and completely<br />by me and most importantly<br />by their creator<br />no matter how many times they<br />break the rules.<br />As for the sass monster?<br />I'm working on an extermination plan<br />as I type this! </div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-50751875358342625742011-01-12T12:47:00.011-05:002011-01-12T13:45:39.180-05:00Normal, everyday, routine.<div align="center">Happy New Year!!</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center">For Christmas this year,</div><div align="center"> I did something for myself that I have </div><div align="center">been wanting to do for a while now.</div><div align="center">I made a book out of my blog.</div><div align="center">I built it in blurb.com and it came out beautifully!</div><div align="center">Because of page number restrictions,<br />I could only include from April 2008 until November 2010</div><div align="center">(which strangely indicates that I am a bit wordy).</div><div align="center">It begins on the day we left Rhode Island</div><div align="center">and chronicles the travels, stories</div><div align="center">and photos of our daily lives </div><div align="center">from then until now.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXAYgFAIJUS9cpWmP6ctSAxJ6hNpGBPuhmAoEehKUVQBlr3yzho7fhWZjigM4vIGho4-1TsDNF41lm9bMVNJEx_phKotrtClvL7itC0Q46wCIcTAzApsJRMKfoRAUm5SOifwDyh8jMduE/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561360711431963266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFXAYgFAIJUS9cpWmP6ctSAxJ6hNpGBPuhmAoEehKUVQBlr3yzho7fhWZjigM4vIGho4-1TsDNF41lm9bMVNJEx_phKotrtClvL7itC0Q46wCIcTAzApsJRMKfoRAUm5SOifwDyh8jMduE/s400/2.jpg" /> <p align="center"></a> Reading through it has brought me to tears and doubled me over with laughter many times. What I love the most is the many entries of nothing special.</p><p align="center">Just the recounting of average days.</p><p align="center">In recent months, I've been more drawn to writing inspiring or comical stories and anecdotes instead of just telling the happenings of an average day in our house.</p><p align="center">I'm going to try to include more of our daily life this year.</p><p align="center">When my kids are grown, I want my blog to usher in vivid memories of our family and the love, laughter and tears we shared over the years. Many years from now, I want them to catch a glimpse of us sitting in our living room on a regular day with homework being done, dinner being cooked, and the sights and sounds of our lives filling the air. </p><p align="center">And to do that, I need to blend in more normal with the nostalgic, more everyday with the extraordinary and more routine with the refreshing. There will still be stories and my (obviously elaborate)thoughts on life, but they will be nestled in between a regular Tuesday and a regular Wednesday at the Cleary home.</p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQVpC-US0Kh5wEGHmBXUDNd5VKhGHIUcWOyurnhRwc2J_FjgaVN3iYRPaElNSXt9OYJSnTMHKgmQ0JTQBUYx_hOVsqGbzZ6YEqoLAsNJSQuiFKb7Jhm6kHgnA3NUFDrwX9EwHQ5y812o70/s1600/19.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561360350934290434" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQVpC-US0Kh5wEGHmBXUDNd5VKhGHIUcWOyurnhRwc2J_FjgaVN3iYRPaElNSXt9OYJSnTMHKgmQ0JTQBUYx_hOVsqGbzZ6YEqoLAsNJSQuiFKb7Jhm6kHgnA3NUFDrwX9EwHQ5y812o70/s400/19.jpg" /></a>Because of facebook (the blog killer) and my constant posting of life by status updates, there are several events missing in my blog so I feel like I need to fill in the past few months with a few highlights. </p><p align="center">First of all, Michael had a very successful season playing for Old Mill High School. We loved watching him play and I especially enjoyed photographing every game and then getting multiple requests from sweaty, heavily padded boys after each game for photographs of them in action.<br /><br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5UUAIJ0kHJzlxJROkLQYKa71_sBg5abizTMDpilFBsZNsLKwlRG7KiX7RLuTR7yN1DT02ROZ1NhkW_TPV_2wGMf72wMkW4eaVyCf_SlaD8203m8QeXI4llAw4dqsyJoG5bwvF0zL9TUd/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561360292312075410" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjR5UUAIJ0kHJzlxJROkLQYKa71_sBg5abizTMDpilFBsZNsLKwlRG7KiX7RLuTR7yN1DT02ROZ1NhkW_TPV_2wGMf72wMkW4eaVyCf_SlaD8203m8QeXI4llAw4dqsyJoG5bwvF0zL9TUd/s400/1.jpg" /></a> I started a new job this Fall.</div><div align="center">I am a freelance journalist for Patch.com. I write a column called Mommy Made Easy for Broadneck Patch and a Military Monday column for Odenton Patch. I also contribute the photo of the week for Historic Annapolis Patch and then fill in for all three patches when they have events or stories that I can cover. Click <a href="http://odenton.patch.com/users/rebecca-cleary/articles">here</a> to read my articles. </div><div align="center"> I am enjoying it immensely!</div><div align="center">I was able to get a press pass for some of Michael's games so that I could shoot right from the sideline.</div><div align="center">Oh just ask my family, you couldn't touch me that day.</div><div align="center">I had a PRESS PASS and I flashed it to everyone who looked my way!</div><div align="center">Embarrassing but true.</div><div align="center"><br /> </div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXJkooem4iE8e-BaqGNSD13LV6w-sHSFSXwwbFUA7N38Nj78m1hP3FD8tsqJVB_xVTC3mkMfN2x-piBHbv5Tul7-xrW3fYXg0ozfR71mimzzdHpa3wCefh0OUI5u_Qh76At_CiNBpIqxO/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561358512655169554" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNXJkooem4iE8e-BaqGNSD13LV6w-sHSFSXwwbFUA7N38Nj78m1hP3FD8tsqJVB_xVTC3mkMfN2x-piBHbv5Tul7-xrW3fYXg0ozfR71mimzzdHpa3wCefh0OUI5u_Qh76At_CiNBpIqxO/s400/2.jpg" /></a><br />We had a visit from my brother Jason and his girlfriend Jill in November.</div><div align="center">It was such a pleasure to have them here and we can't wait for our next visit!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsN7TjH4tnQ7H_P_PmC3cZYBIUyohyphenhyphenl64OrZGjYWJnr1xfqpYu8uea7uO8n3UQXyKoduWgAcKvAyt6UOkSYWAWOLoQQeiQNGrXqaw5gtIys0VznyiyBWGdWPXEINxkwjJ5WVNQp2wkgKAR/s1600/15.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561358401128337266" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsN7TjH4tnQ7H_P_PmC3cZYBIUyohyphenhyphenl64OrZGjYWJnr1xfqpYu8uea7uO8n3UQXyKoduWgAcKvAyt6UOkSYWAWOLoQQeiQNGrXqaw5gtIys0VznyiyBWGdWPXEINxkwjJ5WVNQp2wkgKAR/s400/15.jpg" /></a>It was fun to revisit some of our favorite childhood places together. <br />Here Madison and Jason are standing on the pier of a marina that we spent alot of time at.<br />I did a recent post about Jason and I revisiting some of the tree forts we built as kids.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeWJFiOft9nHPxZYEntS5pomUw9pwi06npiGNNmQCpktEIWeox1pRLPlZhvIdd96ez0G6aHpljhLzhNOIEcUsIEcU0NC8rNPKylxH_6RUoxJma6VRdA6WiOlzmRuK8gGw9LF4qmCLEmfmJ/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561358279690418914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeWJFiOft9nHPxZYEntS5pomUw9pwi06npiGNNmQCpktEIWeox1pRLPlZhvIdd96ez0G6aHpljhLzhNOIEcUsIEcU0NC8rNPKylxH_6RUoxJma6VRdA6WiOlzmRuK8gGw9LF4qmCLEmfmJ/s400/2.jpg" /></a>For Thanksgiving we had my brother Jeremy, his wife Ashley and their two boys Zane and Easton.<br />It was so fun to fill the house with the pitter patter of little feet again.<br /><br />Like all visits with far away family, their's was too short<br />and we are already wanting to see them again.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhInB-39qn-ynEBe0B2MCTmm9qtxzpaVvKVza2tGWYbDNNyGQSFR6iaM3cucUcCw_1lFZ3QZQHyxmN7jvTvpGE6bbPmqdOSK4L3stTjyo0jVhTFZYsM5LSiax4B4kEsU616_ZX0dFpnb2W4/s1600/11.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561358218455152322" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhInB-39qn-ynEBe0B2MCTmm9qtxzpaVvKVza2tGWYbDNNyGQSFR6iaM3cucUcCw_1lFZ3QZQHyxmN7jvTvpGE6bbPmqdOSK4L3stTjyo0jVhTFZYsM5LSiax4B4kEsU616_ZX0dFpnb2W4/s400/11.jpg" /></a>Zach also came home for 10 days in November.<br />He is doing well, growing, learning and working hard in Washington.<br />It was so good to see him and hug his neck again.<br />It did my heart good to watch him interact with his brother<br />and sisters again.<br />We all miss him so much and<br />we hope to see him again very soon.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5X8yjslJZ0l4Q0MiXaL9M0tTzsRrAsTa7HlfwIs4fJ0ivotdIuY5ph3GkzcpwIsSexM-c9fi2Rus-o0dO3ktuu_xhNiSWIg_bKG-WnSYqmj40OrTAMAJ67d0iivJ0fF-cGGR3BU3KR_yl/s1600/7.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561358000793733842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5X8yjslJZ0l4Q0MiXaL9M0tTzsRrAsTa7HlfwIs4fJ0ivotdIuY5ph3GkzcpwIsSexM-c9fi2Rus-o0dO3ktuu_xhNiSWIg_bKG-WnSYqmj40OrTAMAJ67d0iivJ0fF-cGGR3BU3KR_yl/s400/7.jpg" /></a>Michael tunred 17 in December and got his first car!<br />Unfortunately before we could get it titled in Florida,<br />he wrecked David's car,<br />so now he has to wait on tags until we get the deductible paid for repairs.<br />He'll be on the roads soon though.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYIqa_jppagMCYJkr2cx4-NYF3zdTXgK7VAyRkPLxqtngzp8-vhJ1fkCci-kja5BNfliaAmDjvzk9CL_DZ_jLBWoe1YVNTaC9kB8xGfgbgoDQNHVttMv35INXEssU5WZZ_sFFMHeMT8TOn/s1600/11.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561357798303616130" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYIqa_jppagMCYJkr2cx4-NYF3zdTXgK7VAyRkPLxqtngzp8-vhJ1fkCci-kja5BNfliaAmDjvzk9CL_DZ_jLBWoe1YVNTaC9kB8xGfgbgoDQNHVttMv35INXEssU5WZZ_sFFMHeMT8TOn/s400/11.jpg" /></a>We got a puppy this Summer! <br />His name is Journey and he is a blue merle australian shepherd.<br />We did alot of research on the right breed for us and our lifestyle<br />and an aussie fits us well.<br />We got him from a breeder in Pennsylvania and picked him from a litter of 16.<br />Having tried our hand at dog ownership and failed when the kids were younger,<br />we are happy to say that he has quickly become a part of the family.<br />He is so smart and funny and very well behaved for his age.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihwPZe2t5ad4wOhgBUEZPAPvViBWn4GFoQ7fd8m3iHVDu_oxxHniFSwmI0HkSJVoYslSyFLt8I8WdLdte7rrm6R7dr8wOHLjCtN_OJYR0NKSVvsdvhG3owukyps0ze2jG3Gb1vrduBmV76/s1600/10.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5561357730739433906" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihwPZe2t5ad4wOhgBUEZPAPvViBWn4GFoQ7fd8m3iHVDu_oxxHniFSwmI0HkSJVoYslSyFLt8I8WdLdte7rrm6R7dr8wOHLjCtN_OJYR0NKSVvsdvhG3owukyps0ze2jG3Gb1vrduBmV76/s400/10.jpg" /></a> And to bring you up to the current date,<br />I took this photo this morning.<br />We got about 4 inches of snow last night<br />in our first official storm of the season.<br />The kids are thrilled!<br />I'm thankful that we live so close to the firehouse<br />so that our roads get salted and plowed<br />almost immediately<br />because I am a chicken on ice!<br />My cousin teased me about wanting to put chains<br />on my tires at the first snow flake....<br />He's not so far off from the truth.<br />So, there ya go...<br />you're caught up on the highlights.<br />See you soon for some<br />normal<br />everyday<br />routine.....<br />with a twist, I'm sure!<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-16927962704614723332011-01-06T16:05:00.004-05:002011-01-06T16:28:08.062-05:00The right fit<div align="center">Sometimes you fit.</div><div align="center">sometimes you don't.</div><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw57c-h_8q78q2DKp15K522InQq9_YYDNPWiYYx5fBdz3Vic4kBVD-yfuzxGuF1UU2HhB1HFuv0jekrU4TOokxyNxjKo6laAawOkczVorzI_x5orQH3b-7Pmd_QI1lEdYG_mSCaEpAiwgy/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 266px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559182627349477218" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhw57c-h_8q78q2DKp15K522InQq9_YYDNPWiYYx5fBdz3Vic4kBVD-yfuzxGuF1UU2HhB1HFuv0jekrU4TOokxyNxjKo6laAawOkczVorzI_x5orQH3b-7Pmd_QI1lEdYG_mSCaEpAiwgy/s400/3.jpg" /></a> <div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3WKv6UoUDxxMppmgMZQcqZxhbkPNwr9aIJNSpa28pJCLJqosg6fJwIe4bx7Wl6CwR6Hoq2kdfIfKK2ZNbHaBgdbEvlSMrlAin1d0Iu283EKReXEl2hYYXEEfWsuvehd1zKOqdBSOy6g5O/s1600/1.jpg"></a>When we first moved in,</div><div align="center">my mom gave us her kitchen table and chairs</div><div align="center">because she wanted a new one.</div><div align="center">A few months later </div><div align="center">she had her new set delivered</div><div align="center">and it just didn't belong in her condo.<br />It was beautiful in the showroom,</div><div align="center">but when she got it home,</div><div align="center">it just didn't shine.</div><div align="center">While we really appreciated the set she gave us,</div><div align="center">it didn't look amazing in our kitchen either.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIkFobrLrV8Xx9lBCLYttRBrnhcGkQMxSL6hKz_QQ37JvZitpPgirhgoUfu5U56L5Fwsv9Fe7gUsxijHFgCq0BR0BbsX8bxcYgJAeUq-SCLpJk1SbHcBliuigfPY85p6g0dwMgwmnlOp3/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559182379952554674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjPIkFobrLrV8Xx9lBCLYttRBrnhcGkQMxSL6hKz_QQ37JvZitpPgirhgoUfu5U56L5Fwsv9Fe7gUsxijHFgCq0BR0BbsX8bxcYgJAeUq-SCLpJk1SbHcBliuigfPY85p6g0dwMgwmnlOp3/s400/2.jpg" /></a>So we switched sets</div><div align="center">and it was like the missing puzzle piece!</div><div align="center">This table is made for my house!</div><div align="center">It fits our decor perfectly and</div><div align="center">compliments my style.</div><div align="center">I absolutely love it!</div><div align="center">Mom's table looks much better</div><div align="center">in her condo too.<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo4Hq-CXyWDN4XlZboQlQe6LtKbAPBqZ4gV1O8WsYuv1RuNSdDyMqMf96LHJbS85FarUzeNQ-lOcZfHwgyvf1jw4Fg4d3AfTaAMmxQmScxkzuyTfgnrjbnugiQn3ZKL0A4x58HkA5aUq3o/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5559182288938602674" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo4Hq-CXyWDN4XlZboQlQe6LtKbAPBqZ4gV1O8WsYuv1RuNSdDyMqMf96LHJbS85FarUzeNQ-lOcZfHwgyvf1jw4Fg4d3AfTaAMmxQmScxkzuyTfgnrjbnugiQn3ZKL0A4x58HkA5aUq3o/s400/4.jpg" /></a>Sometimes you fit and sometimes you don't.</div><div align="center">I've been in places, churches,</div><div align="center">peer groups, jobs and clubs</div><div align="center">where I just didn't quite fit.</div><div align="center">I've taken on projects and</div><div align="center">taught classes and worked in various ministries</div><div align="center">and got involved in certain activities</div><div align="center">where I just wasn't amazing or amazed.</div><div align="center">What a difference there is when you </div><div align="center">find what you were made for.</div><div align="center">I've heard it said that you should find what you love</div><div align="center"> and do it.</div><div align="center">We were all gifted for specific things</div><div align="center">and you know it when you are doing what you </div><div align="center">are made for.</div><div align="center">My favorite illustration of this concept</div><div align="center">involves a volkswagon bug and </div><div align="center">a land rover.</div><div align="center">Imagine that life is a bumpy road</div><div align="center"> with treacherous terrain.</div><div align="center">When you are not doing what you </div><div align="center">were made for</div><div align="center">you are a volkswagon bug</div><div align="center">navigating terribly over</div><div align="center">the bumps and obstacles.</div><div align="center">You are moving along,</div><div align="center">but not very well. </div><div align="center">You'll most likely wear out before</div><div align="center">your time.</div><div align="center">Now switch to a land rover and travel that </div><div align="center">same road.</div><div align="center">You were born for this.</div><div align="center">You have all the necessary equipment</div><div align="center">already installed!</div><div align="center">You actually find joy in the bumps and</div><div align="center">pot holes because you were</div><div align="center">made to navigate them.</div><div align="center">In my life</div><div align="center">writing and photography</div><div align="center">bring me a certain joy</div><div align="center">that I just can't get anywhere else.</div><div align="center">For my mom,</div><div align="center">it is being a hair stylist.</div><div align="center">For my brothers</div><div align="center">it is working in the fishing industry.</div><div align="center">What's yours?</div><div align="center">Are you a volkswagon bug</div><div align="center">or a land rover right now?</div><div align="center">Find what you love and do it!</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"> </div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-30637969150934220032010-12-09T11:24:00.011-05:002010-12-09T13:16:07.416-05:00The Table Cloth<div align="center"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548723160100398018" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7FEK5X-3Jsl_WOlt6oR1LFL2aJQZp1VNjHkmFVcHPkfVeYUpmZYM3jlKRPlYIhZpFS5cANjanrHr8xZxxqcRU_LXGPnB523rp6c_HaswcbmFjzROK8q8KlRBb5gJ8vKIbbQb5GgEzOpew/s400/8.jpg" /><br /><div align="center">Fifteen years ago, I put a taupe colored</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">twin sheet and a set of sharpies </div><div align="center">on my Thanksgiving table.</div><br /><div align="center">At that time,</div><div align="center">our family consisted of just our two boys</div><div align="center">and the baby girl kicking around inside me.</div><br /><div align="center">My goal was to have everyone in attendance</div><div align="center">sign the table cloth with just their name</div><div align="center">and a sentiment of the holiday</div><div align="center">and then repeat that process every year</div><div align="center">until the cloth was full. </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I had no idea what a cherished thing </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">this table cloth would become.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548723104084250626" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT4uJQXrUVknqXTSF-ii8IR07kipqJQJVJE8kvMu0oB_r8IsB248wFixRVAwz3Umg4zYId66Q6dXFFJ5IigK0wPYSDY6OTdGrlih-vD7uorN2TX7pG4mytCzMV6mA1XgZ6bVMCbHVDjhXC/s400/5.jpg" /> <div align="center"></div><br /><div align="center">There are signatures on our table cloth</div><div align="center">from people whose paths crossed ours,</div><div align="center">people who shared a meal and a holiday with us,</div><div align="center">people we love and remember with a smile,</div><div align="center">people who were only in our lives for a season</div><div align="center">and signed our table once</div><div align="center">and people who are still present at most of </div><div align="center">our holiday meals whose signatures can be seen</div><div align="center">over and over again.</div><br /><div align="center">There are signatures from people who are</div><div align="center">no longer with us on this earth,</div><div align="center">leaving behind an outline of their hand</div><div align="center">and a few words of kindness.</div><br /><div align="center"></div><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548725608675333762" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuDQJaRgclQH6JO2sOTgNv7XnQTyFgkA7YeX1MOMnP31r0IE7eONONOH10KMTPSZelY6lp7oagWmueMEr6_wk6aKUjYpUqQjfO3UjV750gvYL1BJFTy8QVjXtQkTR7L9kBI7qMx15MlQ9Y/s400/7.jpg" />On the years when our holiday table only had </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">five or six chairs,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">that table cloth reminded us</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">that we were connected to so many other people</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">who loved us</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">even from afar.<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUl4mfg2TUCKtuUhaoDedusPun09DE4TnQcDAzZ3wJ2_VjwnCfcbIyqyr-PyPSoV_qfc7xD0tTTpZOxj8I7OlMZ-0n0BKrSzPjUYitoSICVTY60-idTopP8-_Y4EDTlu6AiVw6_wT9iLn5/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548722946282160850" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUl4mfg2TUCKtuUhaoDedusPun09DE4TnQcDAzZ3wJ2_VjwnCfcbIyqyr-PyPSoV_qfc7xD0tTTpZOxj8I7OlMZ-0n0BKrSzPjUYitoSICVTY60-idTopP8-_Y4EDTlu6AiVw6_wT9iLn5/s400/4.jpg" /></a> If one were to take the time<br />to read all of the messages on the table cloth<br />one would find words of longing<br />from years when David was deployed<br />and then joyous words written on holidays<br />when he had returned.<br /><br />One would read well wishes sent to far flung family<br />and words of gratitude for<br />a full house of celebrators.<br /><br />There are expressions of welcome<br />to new family members<br />and warm wishes from old friends.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYTMR2mP6Ut51rIGb8PIZBUmllKQ0bYLI-HiwL28awyg2ZV2B1_2JyxL_9VN_JfIgsl_IOh1b5pJC6vfQaU_I33UfW15xezfJqQHq3l5FvmDQvctYrMxlIge0an7BK1tGikOHTEJlyxN4Y/s1600/6.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548722867696920034" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYTMR2mP6Ut51rIGb8PIZBUmllKQ0bYLI-HiwL28awyg2ZV2B1_2JyxL_9VN_JfIgsl_IOh1b5pJC6vfQaU_I33UfW15xezfJqQHq3l5FvmDQvctYrMxlIge0an7BK1tGikOHTEJlyxN4Y/s400/6.jpg" /></a>That table cloth holds fifteen years of life,<br />love, family and friends.<br /><br />Some of the words bring tears to my eyes.<br />There is an entry from Zachary<br />when he was about 9 years old<br />that says, "I love the Lord"<br />and there is a tiny outline of Madison's little baby hand.<br /><br />There is a message from my dear friend Trudy<br />that was written a lifetime ago<br />about the pain of being separated,<br />but the joy of memories held close to our hearts.<br /><br />Some entries make me smile<br />like the year we signed our name<br />making it known that we were<br />the first place winners of the neighborhood<br />Christmas decorating contest<br />and the many signatures of kids that we love so much<br />who are now grown up<br />with little ones of their own.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCra9-CYjaiPRvzfzoS2jPJ0ak4RKx5GyKnVxnntSsfPuHm01GWNOQpnLzQgjXDopKHM2fjOxkSIzSJ239KBgX0NsoP8cD5iAEBbj9nHoCpeT3LIYcXWkmepfvBlsv0zaIcoD33CTWtVPW/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5548722747825530786" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCra9-CYjaiPRvzfzoS2jPJ0ak4RKx5GyKnVxnntSsfPuHm01GWNOQpnLzQgjXDopKHM2fjOxkSIzSJ239KBgX0NsoP8cD5iAEBbj9nHoCpeT3LIYcXWkmepfvBlsv0zaIcoD33CTWtVPW/s400/3.jpg" /></a><br />This table cloth is more than a tradition for me.<br />It is evidence of a life of togetherness<br />and being connected<br />no matter where we were in the country.<br />Evidence that time flies and<br />we cannot hold any one thing forever.<br />Evidence that change is inevitable and is much easier when<br />gratefully accepted.<br />Evidence that all things really do work out for good<br />and that too much time is wasted on fear and doubt.<br />Evidence of family in the form of friends who we<br />shared our lives with over the years<br />and evidence of friends in the form of family<br />with whom we share a heritage.<br />It is a reminder that we were never alone<br />even when we felt like we were.<br />A reminder that we have led and are leading<br />full lives,<br />and that what matters most in this life<br />is opening yourself up<br />to others and fully embracing them<br />while you have them.<br />Whether they sign your table cloth or<br />leave love notes on your heart,<br />the friends and family<br />that God places in each of our lives are<br />precious, precious gifts!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-55804530617868398882010-12-07T08:06:00.021-05:002010-12-07T09:52:37.365-05:00Shockingly fun<div align="center">My family is so over my photographs.</div><div align="center">They really are.</div><div align="center">I can see the "OK now I've got to act interested in catchlights</div><div align="center">and composition" look when I ask them </div><div align="center">to come and see a client session </div><div align="center">that I've just edited.</div><div align="center">They just don't get it.</div><div align="center">They don't speak my language.</div><div align="center">But I really can understand this because</div><div align="center">I don't speak my husband's or son's language</div><div align="center">when it comes to football either.</div><div align="center">I do love the sport and I enjoy</div><div align="center">watching key games and cheering as loudly</div><div align="center">as the next person,</div><div align="center">but to spend two or three whole months of</div><div align="center">Saturdays on the couch watching </div><div align="center">game after game after game <div align="center">while so many other things are going on </div><div align="center">around town</div><div align="center">or being stuck to the phone updates</div></div><div align="center">when you are dragged out of the house.....</div><div align="center">well, that's just not my language.</div><div align="center">Madison is emersed in her own photography,</div><div align="center">so unless she is telling me that I need</div><div align="center">to up the contrast on one of my photos,</div><div align="center">she'd rather spend her free time pouring over the</div><div align="center">1.5 million photographs that she has of herself and her friends.</div><div align="center">I get that too.</div><div align="center">She's 14 and her own little world </div><div align="center">is all there is right now.</div><div align="center">What I don't get though is</div><div align="center">how shocked my own family members are</div><div align="center">that my photo sessions are actually fun events</div><div align="center">to participate in.</div><div align="center">They've seen my smile upon returning home from a shoot.</div><div align="center">They've heard me tell stories of funny things that happened.</div><div align="center">They've even acted like they've heard me when they ask,</div><div align="center">"How was the shoot mom?" and </div><div align="center">I answer back, "It was soooo fun!"</div><div align="center">For Thanksgiving this year, </div><div align="center">we had my brother and his family in town. </div><div align="center">Jeremy and Ashley have the only other grandchildren</div><div align="center">on my side of the family,</div><div align="center">so I could not pass up the opportunity </div><div align="center">to do a shoot while everyone was together.</div><div align="center">Trying to get everyone excited,</div><div align="center">I pushed the shoot for a week before the event.</div><div align="center">It had to take place on Thanksgiving afternoon</div><div align="center">because of flight schedules,</div><div align="center">so I heard alot about how stressful it was gonna be</div><div align="center">right smack in the middle of cooking chaos,</div><div align="center">but I insisted that this shoot MUST happen.</div><div align="center">I told them that the resulting images from a shoot like this</div><div align="center">would be well worth any stress that they anticipate happening.</div><div align="center">We put the turkey and everything else in a holding pattern</div><div align="center">and off we went.</div><div align="center">It seemed fitting that we were doing the shoot</div><div align="center">at an abandoned mental hospital.</div><div align="center">Upon arrival, </div><div align="center">I arranged everyone for the group shots and </div><div align="center">snapped away.</div><div align="center">Before long everyone was laughing and joking</div><div align="center">and having the best time.</div><div align="center">I was able to get some excellent shots of my mom and all</div><div align="center">of her grandchildren gathered around her.</div><div align="center">These are memories that she will cherish for many years to come.</div><div align="center">I took a few of Ashley, Jeremy, Zane and Easton too.</div><div align="center">I was even able to hand the camera to Jeremy and</div><div align="center">let him take a few of our family with me in them.</div><div align="center">Upon leaving, my boys kept saying </div><div align="center">over and over again how much fun they had.</div><div align="center">They sounded surprised that this was not a torturous event.</div><div align="center">My husband even told me that he had more fun than he expected.</div><div align="center">My mom was thrilled with the shoot and had a good time as well.</div><div align="center">I don't know what they thought</div><div align="center">my shoots were like </div><div align="center">or why most of them thought that this would be a stressful</div><div align="center">frustrating afternoon,</div><div align="center">but I'm glad they were able to experience</div><div align="center">a laid back, natural, fun session with me.</div><div align="center">So now they know what I do </div><div align="center">and why I love it so much....</div><div align="center">even if I still can't get them to sit down</div><div align="center">and let me show them a client session</div><div align="center">without seeing them roll their eyes</div><div align="center">or heaving a big sigh of dread.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Here are some highlights</div><div align="center">from our {apparently} shockingly fun family session:</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqzumfgn0MGHT5LPtJGX6bJsL0JYVCSpOBmACfcrk8WuERYCM2hogFb0aIFXanH1n3-X_A6hw48Sm5KTuzfhpqqGVq3achgRuRutISqIUGCZZxCRhLRCDGiwufmLeb9ctpdTuA2LZIMGN/s1600/25.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547929897508102978" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibqzumfgn0MGHT5LPtJGX6bJsL0JYVCSpOBmACfcrk8WuERYCM2hogFb0aIFXanH1n3-X_A6hw48Sm5KTuzfhpqqGVq3achgRuRutISqIUGCZZxCRhLRCDGiwufmLeb9ctpdTuA2LZIMGN/s400/25.jpg" /></a>My mom and all her grandkids! </div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMqCetz14qL4vXvxBWA_6CcImo7jo7RKWCR8Ab_ypF5DwYpDEUx81l4Ln7rFh04KQ_NlPUGFdKH4X4HJHkemXeaqKFIyhoKoAxlqkSCuHx2TcOD3aAUOwP7yZNFXwExjum9dLN0WHul6d/s1600/24.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547929811125344930" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyMqCetz14qL4vXvxBWA_6CcImo7jo7RKWCR8Ab_ypF5DwYpDEUx81l4Ln7rFh04KQ_NlPUGFdKH4X4HJHkemXeaqKFIyhoKoAxlqkSCuHx2TcOD3aAUOwP7yZNFXwExjum9dLN0WHul6d/s400/24.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOi1RpYPzHmlRqNqLAurYJyus683YjpRFVMYZMpBzmCOu9gz4pNQwj0CHJW8Z_j34V9-QoV-LfVmb-UJMYtYELQPUhFg_e-FKG2L7ptpjavpdlTrgE4dTucLbyo9wahbKqK73qQKcYo2LT/s1600/22.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547929701929695314" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOi1RpYPzHmlRqNqLAurYJyus683YjpRFVMYZMpBzmCOu9gz4pNQwj0CHJW8Z_j34V9-QoV-LfVmb-UJMYtYELQPUhFg_e-FKG2L7ptpjavpdlTrgE4dTucLbyo9wahbKqK73qQKcYo2LT/s400/22.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwbCOYhGJ9ysLJthnq4dwUrW_GL2c3UVfYUbIESegaUWmhLnH0ORY0Rt3UgfrhU_aaRXXMp3uGXOOoACHMvjRCZR2zseeBU7CDkJixaaVT5SvyDwvEnmNuPIwJfT0UXCdlhNR3MIj24_F/s1600/19.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547929619596914066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzwbCOYhGJ9ysLJthnq4dwUrW_GL2c3UVfYUbIESegaUWmhLnH0ORY0Rt3UgfrhU_aaRXXMp3uGXOOoACHMvjRCZR2zseeBU7CDkJixaaVT5SvyDwvEnmNuPIwJfT0UXCdlhNR3MIj24_F/s400/19.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU-t_MTZ7O2MJjDpqYa9AkOWO882WRAHfWef-0A0g12YzehVMTYmUr8LZvkQMRQDS7skS1VN-V3tcfoTH4kItuFZzyaCCOyyosL9fu55TAGppSKqp7r1an0KCkX21TM_J1hmh5oYH9AKlx/s1600/33.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547929499506701250" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU-t_MTZ7O2MJjDpqYa9AkOWO882WRAHfWef-0A0g12YzehVMTYmUr8LZvkQMRQDS7skS1VN-V3tcfoTH4kItuFZzyaCCOyyosL9fu55TAGppSKqp7r1an0KCkX21TM_J1hmh5oYH9AKlx/s400/33.jpg" /></a>My grandmother and<br />all of the great grandkids from her daughter Joyce's kids.<br />My cousin Leah has the other two greats.<br /><br /><br /><div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAepS-nO8drHHCR7ekgm2Ixnq5F-RtFDc5rcvx3jeGESrl-H20VepE_ced4JRs6EUKGyBbhYYdPV1M4xeepcjqBmhtDMkPgtNF3hZTWL-kOY_xhEDqnxTfXRAYAowqyqYxKiCQfhXktBR/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547928973930736258" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqAepS-nO8drHHCR7ekgm2Ixnq5F-RtFDc5rcvx3jeGESrl-H20VepE_ced4JRs6EUKGyBbhYYdPV1M4xeepcjqBmhtDMkPgtNF3hZTWL-kOY_xhEDqnxTfXRAYAowqyqYxKiCQfhXktBR/s400/3.jpg" /></a> My favorite from the shoot...</div><div>Ashley and Jeremy.</div><div></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0oJRBpic4dRAwGlkvzN1me3nCZKmQTYCAl8LezTpCZVYvc3ubQedF8DCx1jKtb4fTiQL3IJ3QCIZ2CJ43gMszAqboEB1ibJ-g6_HhjtRaP1jnasEZe2mjQQYgCcRdi74pVOUDyZlFOUuS/s1600/42.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547928896070128114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0oJRBpic4dRAwGlkvzN1me3nCZKmQTYCAl8LezTpCZVYvc3ubQedF8DCx1jKtb4fTiQL3IJ3QCIZ2CJ43gMszAqboEB1ibJ-g6_HhjtRaP1jnasEZe2mjQQYgCcRdi74pVOUDyZlFOUuS/s400/42.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifpRyNLQAb5sC-N2eA2ya97UeHqOvEBQTnuVK83inbCixJvNior__hEYFgdhKnF24dSYjxxRTJGmiD86moEXnS8rBZ-vjYYJ1e7REevy0-zyQZ07AhM6HwYPeRmGufkjO9IBk5JYVUm0W/s1600/36.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547928815847084450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjifpRyNLQAb5sC-N2eA2ya97UeHqOvEBQTnuVK83inbCixJvNior__hEYFgdhKnF24dSYjxxRTJGmiD86moEXnS8rBZ-vjYYJ1e7REevy0-zyQZ07AhM6HwYPeRmGufkjO9IBk5JYVUm0W/s400/36.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-lhhR6Xo05UbfYl4LX0Ta8Vgw8Z5kmUbLQmSoLUkx7sTI_Soaolgty3-EGv8aZpTR5stHwOL7MVxL4Ii4GCpMgR8gkFjlZKRX5R_W1uRMJa5wPNwkkxOe_3LDtTfP4x3W6MK6RBS1o40H/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547928678723184226" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-lhhR6Xo05UbfYl4LX0Ta8Vgw8Z5kmUbLQmSoLUkx7sTI_Soaolgty3-EGv8aZpTR5stHwOL7MVxL4Ii4GCpMgR8gkFjlZKRX5R_W1uRMJa5wPNwkkxOe_3LDtTfP4x3W6MK6RBS1o40H/s400/2.jpg" /></a><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCAAMNCRKoHhMCnMFmI0SKSIWOVYfSxv7IKCnd_TJ43_zWx3VECOvglBY2IQwVh30uwaUoaEEILEROCcZKs5z6zIvrDphho6oeC9YdOmszuzXiuZcEmust-SMwjCaD6xUsBA26oVVzlVTu/s1600/8b.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547928586259521634" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCAAMNCRKoHhMCnMFmI0SKSIWOVYfSxv7IKCnd_TJ43_zWx3VECOvglBY2IQwVh30uwaUoaEEILEROCcZKs5z6zIvrDphho6oeC9YdOmszuzXiuZcEmust-SMwjCaD6xUsBA26oVVzlVTu/s400/8b.jpg" /></a>My three men all together!<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzrieK39bq58KAzCqCBPYnH0gvCQdgqaL3soUJMy0_8-8VnQ2gTxYC5Hmtf5eqvvXlw9enplCc0hzdFnJ1QmoX-0DsiLCo6TTq9VdvBN7s-lrpT0ARrf53YOZfZcSxaGsu8CJvr3Y1oW-/s1600/10.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547928013472887522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrzrieK39bq58KAzCqCBPYnH0gvCQdgqaL3soUJMy0_8-8VnQ2gTxYC5Hmtf5eqvvXlw9enplCc0hzdFnJ1QmoX-0DsiLCo6TTq9VdvBN7s-lrpT0ARrf53YOZfZcSxaGsu8CJvr3Y1oW-/s400/10.jpg" /></a>Our oldest three.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0lvl5ObWdswfkwVqL4jo9YlFRFYv8YL-fUsOTIZ6UeXWTqmnuUVA1ABr0ieLjyBZvZyz94uoZCsbSL0GjwTg9jbBogEcDylW32qQ0nRD5ioLmxRetdOYfFZNiHkU6ZNQ-_T0IBFEOuXCT/s1600/12.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547927901754089058" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0lvl5ObWdswfkwVqL4jo9YlFRFYv8YL-fUsOTIZ6UeXWTqmnuUVA1ABr0ieLjyBZvZyz94uoZCsbSL0GjwTg9jbBogEcDylW32qQ0nRD5ioLmxRetdOYfFZNiHkU6ZNQ-_T0IBFEOuXCT/s400/12.jpg" /></a>My favorite of our kids.<br />This is such a precious photograph</div><div>to me because Zach lives in Seattle</div><div>and I can't see this everyday in real life.<br /><br /></div><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_PQNI5NTGgiKzwT7GNd_twP7KkIjbEwnLZfdBOsBV74DW3PulnLrpzNuDfyB1JY_G4tD8oap7nBXYz2KZreMkkLgKMmFxOgPhpv8bHmZANvF5XxShb-2y-xjHeorj7T3VehVSAlRd36xW/s1600/27.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547927728501526290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_PQNI5NTGgiKzwT7GNd_twP7KkIjbEwnLZfdBOsBV74DW3PulnLrpzNuDfyB1JY_G4tD8oap7nBXYz2KZreMkkLgKMmFxOgPhpv8bHmZANvF5XxShb-2y-xjHeorj7T3VehVSAlRd36xW/s400/27.jpg" /></a>The family shot!<br /><br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbYv6n1YkJ-SL8pJIQDkpHmzXd0KwJmgzepIk5EpBMLI_LroyTBWZq2Yoo6j7hYhTajnngDuFUucpg1MXgCGVoTe9TuoFF8cksAXmyOQEyPiLZorDBaM3HTuTz8dxOPEjkT3K9mbx97Ud/s1600/6.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547927638781159154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxbYv6n1YkJ-SL8pJIQDkpHmzXd0KwJmgzepIk5EpBMLI_LroyTBWZq2Yoo6j7hYhTajnngDuFUucpg1MXgCGVoTe9TuoFF8cksAXmyOQEyPiLZorDBaM3HTuTz8dxOPEjkT3K9mbx97Ud/s400/6.jpg" /></a> Another good one of the six of us.<br /><br /><br /><div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFphw8f0qtMKgnIO-X7BeZWRpLgD45p8TsrnbLW8o7yupr2LvQxITpSy89sMTwLb65f4HDeOa01YGAHVr_FYyAo0rqaPlLUG0_K3leISgzu6mnMGh0oKzyO172ehCvnIm69xkWuT2f1492/s1600/13.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5547927529600041522" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFphw8f0qtMKgnIO-X7BeZWRpLgD45p8TsrnbLW8o7yupr2LvQxITpSy89sMTwLb65f4HDeOa01YGAHVr_FYyAo0rqaPlLUG0_K3leISgzu6mnMGh0oKzyO172ehCvnIm69xkWuT2f1492/s400/13.jpg" /></a>And finally one of David and I.</div><div></div><div>I've got lots of ordering to do from this shoot!</div><div>Beyond the images,</div><div>the memories of the time we spent together</div><div>as a family laughing and having fun</div><div>will be held close to my heart</div><div>for a long, long time.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div></div><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-25638576962401639022010-11-17T12:06:00.007-05:002010-11-17T12:36:36.795-05:00Yesterday's green<div align="center">Last night the wind blew a</div><div align="center">great deal of the remaining leaves from the trees</div><div align="center">surrounding our house.</div><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixR8bIL6MQgRTKDoyR-LbCOyGycEgQMYUkmaRh6IfIAE7hftQ47DPCQ9ECfF6COcRubGrHy9jzWDSQUYTdYLUYLDq4O5A54qt1A1TbSunFKgpLtXTz6rrQ2u_WGln7Mt85-v9_2R8DFsoy/s1600/7.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540566933655195330" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEixR8bIL6MQgRTKDoyR-LbCOyGycEgQMYUkmaRh6IfIAE7hftQ47DPCQ9ECfF6COcRubGrHy9jzWDSQUYTdYLUYLDq4O5A54qt1A1TbSunFKgpLtXTz6rrQ2u_WGln7Mt85-v9_2R8DFsoy/s400/7.jpg" /></a> Our yard is inches deep</div><div align="center"> in yesterday's green.</div><div align="center"> </div><div align="center"><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLjVraur1lvgGFv4bEPB6iElaXFBuXXZtovOAAOVzPok0rlTM9pS5IhlqCjEoSzf3f-ukPcPVSLfU_hi-7aXWTAb1PVOiu8rDHDgpDzX9EKckrgHEeDfcJKEtf94JABjsayt49xUiJAZS/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540566855854524642" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJLjVraur1lvgGFv4bEPB6iElaXFBuXXZtovOAAOVzPok0rlTM9pS5IhlqCjEoSzf3f-ukPcPVSLfU_hi-7aXWTAb1PVOiu8rDHDgpDzX9EKckrgHEeDfcJKEtf94JABjsayt49xUiJAZS/s400/1.jpg" /></a>Soon we will use our leaf blower<br />to gather them up in piles<br />and send them whirling down the revine.<br />Gone.<br />Discarded.<br />Forgotten.<br />If we leave them laying on the ground,<br />they will rot and our grass will die.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wEa9D2lK1rPQNcL8F-f_FTKea9NqpFnmbVe-jePBvkPj-xSoPMb-MKRD8DPJdRdXUGL8PojxcIBxG39FjMnTq5_XDhcvbEre22CoZt2xuuSHQmMZULVZKqxoAs_7U8KS3m4GjuRU1lc7/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540566772172637138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0wEa9D2lK1rPQNcL8F-f_FTKea9NqpFnmbVe-jePBvkPj-xSoPMb-MKRD8DPJdRdXUGL8PojxcIBxG39FjMnTq5_XDhcvbEre22CoZt2xuuSHQmMZULVZKqxoAs_7U8KS3m4GjuRU1lc7/s400/4.jpg" /></a>This process is vital to new growth.<br />In order for new tender green buds to appear<br />with the warming sun,<br />the old must be stripped away.<br />Dead and falling to the ground below,<br />the old leaf is serving it's<br />final purpose in the circle of life.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0auTDZD53k1Rl6a2vlX8vj-vz9kla0iprQvEuZ_2IEqg7Sg8tJLq-cM3dLgLxp82F9dtzrf4iQBWgeEd63avpOemEauTscvfXjMLGIZbaQpLfYlZyPviO_CzwwFwumk7AeWsHu6xr4le4/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540566627950410146" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0auTDZD53k1Rl6a2vlX8vj-vz9kla0iprQvEuZ_2IEqg7Sg8tJLq-cM3dLgLxp82F9dtzrf4iQBWgeEd63avpOemEauTscvfXjMLGIZbaQpLfYlZyPviO_CzwwFwumk7AeWsHu6xr4le4/s400/3.jpg" /></a>Sometimes I am the wind<br />blowing strong against the things<br />that need to fall.<br />Assisting in the emergence of newness.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHkS-nHSvCMZrY9-A9jWsV9gZ0QEDblkhhhE6Y3IhVEzQAFPwXT5DaLJz_iTcn4TyT4Jsjsi2MZkZUmg15tuL2jjwFsK_aQV8beFPeazV5iXtvBaFvxGF0rUlYIwIdUL_zj3Osy8dM1KsS/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540566545235370466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHkS-nHSvCMZrY9-A9jWsV9gZ0QEDblkhhhE6Y3IhVEzQAFPwXT5DaLJz_iTcn4TyT4Jsjsi2MZkZUmg15tuL2jjwFsK_aQV8beFPeazV5iXtvBaFvxGF0rUlYIwIdUL_zj3Osy8dM1KsS/s400/2.jpg" /></a>Sometimes I am the tree,<br />being tossed and beaten<br />until the dead things fall away.<br />Until I am prepared for<br />bearing new fruit.<br /><br /> <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrK2ZsUxj3j5cuIxaXO8d_VVOmC0R0jAHOakIyilU-7Lu2pDsby3gT8hPCnvlPIfZJ9d0lJ3O83LuBxjghO0eToxZRPimT4ID5PRBgdI9RXIHMhHw7nFZnB_K5Nat6iOcEsXzkfJxPkrV/s1600/6.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540566459384956834" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYrK2ZsUxj3j5cuIxaXO8d_VVOmC0R0jAHOakIyilU-7Lu2pDsby3gT8hPCnvlPIfZJ9d0lJ3O83LuBxjghO0eToxZRPimT4ID5PRBgdI9RXIHMhHw7nFZnB_K5Nat6iOcEsXzkfJxPkrV/s400/6.jpg" /></a>A time or two I have been the leaf,<br />my influence being pulled from<br />another for a greater purpose.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg965rAjbLNYq0PWxBxp8oBB-Ckt_oB_jS4Z6F8A2_MJBBkAoa0cxKynKflmwJvGzh48kFoCv4sX6sZDAxygIu6UoBRnTNSPsiFC3mGMHp7v7VmEOCupYtuoA16XW8bow9aeyY_R7Ys67aj/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5540566334819433042" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg965rAjbLNYq0PWxBxp8oBB-Ckt_oB_jS4Z6F8A2_MJBBkAoa0cxKynKflmwJvGzh48kFoCv4sX6sZDAxygIu6UoBRnTNSPsiFC3mGMHp7v7VmEOCupYtuoA16XW8bow9aeyY_R7Ys67aj/s400/5.jpg" /></a><br />I've also been the leaf blower<br />encouraging another to disguard the dead and rotting<br />in order to preserve new life.<br /><br />All four bring a degree of discomfort.<br />Being a relentless catalyst for change,<br />being stripped of yesterday's success,<br /> being necessarily removed<br />for the greater good<br />or holding the wind steady<br />long enough for the ground to be free<br />are all uncomfortable places to be.<br />All require focused effort,<br />and all of them are necessary<br />for new growth.<br />Each an important process in achieving the next<br />crop of fruit.<br />Through pain comes life for<br />there is no Spring without a Fall.<br /><br />Rev. 21:5<br />"Behold, I am making all things new!"<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-38411161876729140302010-11-10T09:01:00.012-05:002010-11-10T09:49:57.018-05:00The Trappings of Childhood.....<div align="center">Most trees don't have names beyond Elm</div><div align="center">or Dogwood or Pine.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">But ours does.<br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQcDFkdlMbdkN0X8Hlfuhi4XPnpqoq9q3f72D-EjV0OwlE5TeRlU5KnooY9x1hqRtze_4fehDm9gnN2wqeKSsuzyZDrpANFDRNewLQroc1VKoYlfc-rkqd6ZMxcNVu0l_1_q2JAm391BU/s1600/12.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537921969110748002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQcDFkdlMbdkN0X8Hlfuhi4XPnpqoq9q3f72D-EjV0OwlE5TeRlU5KnooY9x1hqRtze_4fehDm9gnN2wqeKSsuzyZDrpANFDRNewLQroc1VKoYlfc-rkqd6ZMxcNVu0l_1_q2JAm391BU/s400/12.jpg" /></a> </p><p align="center">Most trees don't hold within their branches</p><p align="center">the echo of laughter</p><div align="center">and the enchantment of childhood,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">but ours does.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYhO0trlroQNxMqXCBDYtGKWx91qmoAOeotmCRk_vXuAnq04LsLcdcaiR7B5918ACFkVrVDPu2ksNBbgvzHYpAz0nPJbwQfms2oCrVWzUcUbnJw_RKBmRVMAUsxiUbz-wUNuEwoF3HZyA/s1600/9.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537921900350907090" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSYhO0trlroQNxMqXCBDYtGKWx91qmoAOeotmCRk_vXuAnq04LsLcdcaiR7B5918ACFkVrVDPu2ksNBbgvzHYpAz0nPJbwQfms2oCrVWzUcUbnJw_RKBmRVMAUsxiUbz-wUNuEwoF3HZyA/s400/9.jpg" /></a></div><div align="center">Most trees aren't marked by</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">carefully carved proclaimations</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">of generations of love.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">But ours is.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhihEPZFZ19GnDgznxlLuMHm5Tom-dTthstK_nsEZBXGOP7oxP0h_e7Du-mutSRNI8Mo8l1RltacYwrSKijlj3k-u4SOZiyFU70qGm8mDXf9HVgpVjiREud6nLOItYOMO4gRccAIU6U0PwB/s1600/11.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537921839143712498" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhihEPZFZ19GnDgznxlLuMHm5Tom-dTthstK_nsEZBXGOP7oxP0h_e7Du-mutSRNI8Mo8l1RltacYwrSKijlj3k-u4SOZiyFU70qGm8mDXf9HVgpVjiREud6nLOItYOMO4gRccAIU6U0PwB/s400/11.jpg" /></a>The "Love Tree" isn't just any other tree.</div><div align="center">It's ours.</div><div align="center">She still stands in an untouched lot with houses built all around her.</div><div align="center">She is a symbol that we were there.</div><div align="center">That we ran through those woods,</div><div align="center">our pigtails trailing behind us</div><div align="center">our arms outstretched in the wind.</div><div align="center">She still stands</div><div align="center">and we still remember</div><div align="center">the innocence and wonderment </div><div align="center">of our childhood.<br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72NwvS7GoHnDSJZApqU6iFd9LKOplWJNKSiTW942O-BFahrQz4vhfBCd5NmwZiZ1Nb3-oH88QaaaLH8HuRlN85oUHJvfg-N_dTLc4Bit8c6FfIVfI4f1UVWhFw7lUamYcMHpucIs8QOy1/s1600/13.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537921728303121970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg72NwvS7GoHnDSJZApqU6iFd9LKOplWJNKSiTW942O-BFahrQz4vhfBCd5NmwZiZ1Nb3-oH88QaaaLH8HuRlN85oUHJvfg-N_dTLc4Bit8c6FfIVfI4f1UVWhFw7lUamYcMHpucIs8QOy1/s400/13.jpg" /></a>Across the woods stands another grouping of trees.</div><div align="center">These held no inscriptions of love,</div><div align="center">but were the support for our tree house.<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3h4pB2GyJ5DRKjTI1wNFrAqf235ZWu3oQLWbz75iLHrq-sfxMDJH-7WtCRBmz7R2n-8jv1_ozVIgupbpSCSMg4hoSfePu2kI0erP6iIk-kkYA3pL97p5zE3ezVdD2o6X3_X9OeyuESkQ/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537921637169524178" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu3h4pB2GyJ5DRKjTI1wNFrAqf235ZWu3oQLWbz75iLHrq-sfxMDJH-7WtCRBmz7R2n-8jv1_ozVIgupbpSCSMg4hoSfePu2kI0erP6iIk-kkYA3pL97p5zE3ezVdD2o6X3_X9OeyuESkQ/s400/2.jpg" /></a>My brother Jason and I </div><div align="center">spent countless hours hammering nails</div><div align="center">into wood and constructing our </div><div align="center">magnificent two story tree house.<br /><br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb0nH4gdzNXU1sJ0zdUJQVPg1pHvwaWyqgk9I61e-jXk-7wtBHf9P7Xm2tcfWUlteCNKgK7P1vJxSuQ-Z7zurfxgRsqqsMQtnfktbVXUppztxeEsKzSBeRfu_HyZf6JcHBugfx4e3d-aH6/s1600/3.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537921590303984450" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjb0nH4gdzNXU1sJ0zdUJQVPg1pHvwaWyqgk9I61e-jXk-7wtBHf9P7Xm2tcfWUlteCNKgK7P1vJxSuQ-Z7zurfxgRsqqsMQtnfktbVXUppztxeEsKzSBeRfu_HyZf6JcHBugfx4e3d-aH6/s400/3.jpg" /></a>Our cousins Leah, Scott and Carrie</div><div align="center">can also stake a claim here as</div><div align="center">they are responsible for more than one nail</div><div align="center">in those wooden planks</div><div align="center">and more than a million </div><div align="center">romps through those woods.<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCjyFttyRsfOHk3_ta4jPz31JY4FmavSC5I-58uW5e5d6le_TbaGc6zxJHrO36b1Gz2ztQK8MPJ6r0xu8Uw2QQk_e2N8mAwWXZa1p5HdAzEvEbXm_2VvxsvcyruFGUCZJGjB7V5AfzzY6/s1600/4.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537921536388596738" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuCjyFttyRsfOHk3_ta4jPz31JY4FmavSC5I-58uW5e5d6le_TbaGc6zxJHrO36b1Gz2ztQK8MPJ6r0xu8Uw2QQk_e2N8mAwWXZa1p5HdAzEvEbXm_2VvxsvcyruFGUCZJGjB7V5AfzzY6/s400/4.jpg" /></a>The rope from our swing still</div><div align="center">hangs from branches that have grown taller</div><div align="center">just as we have.<br /><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24oxqeH59DPkA1O1YGk7zScdeMs6qW_FVB825CsuregSoE1oPDjmnS0uTOFS8AcyNWunRxBxOwitnJ0vdsZR-uo09JXfvryPxiEHgnqOTHVOauwiZyj-9ELVDRTeaCsF8zU9JdwWGX243/s1600/5.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537921476159048290" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg24oxqeH59DPkA1O1YGk7zScdeMs6qW_FVB825CsuregSoE1oPDjmnS0uTOFS8AcyNWunRxBxOwitnJ0vdsZR-uo09JXfvryPxiEHgnqOTHVOauwiZyj-9ELVDRTeaCsF8zU9JdwWGX243/s400/5.jpg" /></a>What a treat it was to retrace the paths of the past</div><div align="center">with my brother leading the way.</div><div align="center">Rediscovery is one of the best parts of leaving things behind.</div><div align="center">Reliving joyful moments is a priceless gift.</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodxNzF59OnKN52UGKRuq4SjU9UvKKkFUPL9U49Q7bF3zLirvTbAqCooDDcCI5CLaKb0Xx84eUmNhwkDsLxaDN452er25HvXW5GNOU3s_fKqGZOtFtn5zy9UY_qfh1hqsnq4ZFmtTPFqPB/s1600/7.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5537921336227459490" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhodxNzF59OnKN52UGKRuq4SjU9UvKKkFUPL9U49Q7bF3zLirvTbAqCooDDcCI5CLaKb0Xx84eUmNhwkDsLxaDN452er25HvXW5GNOU3s_fKqGZOtFtn5zy9UY_qfh1hqsnq4ZFmtTPFqPB/s400/7.jpg" /></a>As we left Wilson's woods that day</div><div align="center">I could almost hear the ferns and ivy calling out to us,</div><div align="center">because they were once filled with magic.</div><div align="center">"Come back! Be carefree</div><div align="center">and get lost in your imagination again!"</div><div align="center">I wonder, </div><div align="center">how can one stand growing up and leaving</div><div align="center">the delight of childhood behind?</div><div align="center">The answer is simple:</div><div align="center">Embrace the stories of days gone by</div><div align="center">and find the best moments to tuck away in your heart</div><div align="center">so that you can retell them to your </div><div align="center">children and watch their eyes fill with the same</div><div align="center">fascination that once captivated you. </div><div align="center">In this way,</div><div align="center">you will never really grow up</div><div align="center">not in your heart.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">In the words of Captain Hook:</div><div align="center">"Growing up is such barbarous business,</div><div align="center">full of inconvenience....</div><div align="center">and pimples!"</div><div align="center">*</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">First tree to the right and straight on til morning!<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-27261358478855976552010-10-21T08:27:00.025-04:002010-10-21T12:22:53.419-04:00I have IAN disorder.<div align="center">I have Internally Audible Narrative disorder.</div><div align="center">I really do.</div><div align="center">I don't know if I should be alarmed or not</div><div align="center">but that's just the way I think.</div><div align="center">No matter what the situation,</div><div align="center">I'm thinking in a narrative 90% of the time.</div><div align="center">Take for instance a potentially </div><div align="center">emotional event like </div><div align="center">the first day of school for your last child.</div><div align="center">This is what plays in my head</div><div align="center">as I walk Bren to class the first day,</div><div align="center">"Her little heart pounds as she enters the classroom</div><div align="center">for the first time. </div><div align="center">she has been the new girl so often in her</div><div align="center">young life,</div><div align="center">but she never gets used to it.</div><div align="center">She is thankful that her mom is with her </div><div align="center">and gives her hand a squeeze. </div><div align="center">As the goodbye nears, her grip gets tighter,</div><div align="center">but she fights back</div><div align="center">the tears welling up in her </div><div align="center">big green eyes and</div><div align="center">puts on a brave face.</div><div align="center">One quick embrace and she's on her own."</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">If I try hard enough,</div><div align="center">I can even hear the music </div><div align="center">playing in the background</div><div align="center">begging every last drop of emotion out of the scene!</div><div align="center">See? </div><div align="center">Is that normal?</div><div align="center">It's like I'm living in the moment,</div><div align="center">(really, I am!)</div><div align="center">but I'm preparing to retell it on demand </div><div align="center">in a way that puts people right in my shoes.</div><div align="center">It's sorta like a tool for me to grab</div><div align="center">a hold of every emotion happening</div><div align="center">in and around me</div><div align="center">and organize them into a flow of words</div><div align="center">so that I won't forget it.</div><div align="center">Should I seek help?</div><div align="center">Wait there's more....</div><div align="center">I also think this way about important</div><div align="center">or meaningful future events.</div><div align="center">I will anticipate it in story form.</div><div align="center">Like right now,</div><div align="center">I am anticipating the arrival of </div><div align="center">my oldest son</div><div align="center">who will be here for 10 days in November.</div><div align="center">I will admit to this narrative,</div><div align="center">"Her fingers moved over the plates</div><div align="center">as she pulled them out of the drawer.</div><div align="center">Six again.</div><div align="center">Always six. </div><div align="center">She still hadn't gotten used to</div><div align="center">just pulling out five.</div><div align="center">But soon six will be the right number again.</div><div align="center">For a little while anyway."</div><div align="center">Now</div><div align="center">before you campaign to have me admitted</div><div align="center">to the funny-farm, </div><div align="center">let me further explain......</div><div align="center">It's not like a detached male voice</div><div align="center">like the movie trailer voice over guy</div><div align="center">and it's not like everytime I go grocery shopping</div><div align="center">I'm hearing,</div><div align="center">"List in hand, she walks into the store</div><div align="center">headed straight for the frozen food section</div><div align="center">to gather meat for her starving family!"</div><div align="center">It's not that bad yet.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Please tell me I am not the weirdest person you know.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Perhaps I am subconsciously preparing</div><div align="center">to write an award winning epic novel.</div><div align="center">Perhaps I drink too much caffeine.</div><div align="center">It could be that I've dyed my hair one too many times</div><div align="center">or that I need more fiber in my diet.</div><div align="center">Whatever the cause,</div><div align="center">I think this abnormality</div><div align="center">may actually help me</div><div align="center">in the things I do.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Take photography for example.</div><div align="center">When I drive by a wall with peeling paint,</div><div align="center">an old weathered barn,</div><div align="center">abandoned buildings with vines growing on the walls,</div><div align="center">brightly colored doors,</div><div align="center">unique staircases</div><div align="center">or quaint side streets,</div><div align="center">This is what happens to my soul...</div><div align="center">well, first I squeal and almost</div><div align="center">drive off the road,</div><div align="center">but then</div><div align="center">I automatically place a person there</div><div align="center">whether it be</div><div align="center">a bride with a flowing vail,</div><div align="center">a family,</div><div align="center">a little girl in a tu-tu</div><div align="center">or even a tiny newborn</div><div align="center">and I create a photo in my mind</div><div align="center">that tells the story of the scene that </div><div align="center">has distracted me enough to risk fatal injury.</div><div align="center">I don't necessarily hear a narrative,</div><div align="center">ok well, sometimes I do,</div><div align="center">but it's more like the components of a </div><div align="center">story yet to be told.</div><div align="center">I may never actually get to shoot the </div><div align="center">photograph that my mind insist must happen</div><div align="center">because the location could be inaccessible</div><div align="center">(without colossal effort)</div><div align="center">and I don't currently know any brides</div><div align="center">plus I doubt anyone would let me </div><div align="center">put their tiny little newborn on a dirty </div><div align="center">brick and weathered wood window sill</div><div align="center">of a mental hospital.</div><div align="center">But whether it happens or not</div><div align="center">doesn't matter.</div><div align="center">The fact is that the scene haunts me </div><div align="center">everytime I pass the spot</div><div align="center">and is very possibly responsible for fueling my</div><div align="center">photo session location choices</div><div align="center">and shooting style.</div><div align="center">I love to put newness next to broken down,</div><div align="center">clean next to dirty</div><div align="center">and softness next to hardness.</div><div align="center">I think that creating that contrast makes the </div><div align="center">most interesting story.</div><div align="center">During my sessions,</div><div align="center">I find that I am trying to create that</div><div align="center">contrast as often as I can</div><div align="center">without risking bodily injury</div><div align="center">of course.</div><div align="center">Here are a few examples </div><div align="center">from my most recent sessions</div><div align="center">and how "IAN"</div><div align="center">transfers to my </div><div align="center">photo vision.</div><br /><br /><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBHGbYJujmlJey3eZAlGw14Er_HX2BQAhMPS8XL63beETrYYpFzUV3f4XNyxpjqNMomKGED1l1O3xR_bu8xp4f96Kl0Ne807s0gb2PjTrlQ4W0nA8lyYnUllcisciELTq4ioo_JMsSHQk/s1600/3m.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530478516616130562" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqBHGbYJujmlJey3eZAlGw14Er_HX2BQAhMPS8XL63beETrYYpFzUV3f4XNyxpjqNMomKGED1l1O3xR_bu8xp4f96Kl0Ne807s0gb2PjTrlQ4W0nA8lyYnUllcisciELTq4ioo_JMsSHQk/s400/3m.jpg" /></a> This one was just way too easy!</div><div align="center">This turquoise grocery cart was sitting off to the side of this wall</div><div align="center">just waiting to be filled with little girls</div><div align="center">in petticoats!</div><div align="center">Score!<br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4B0LO6BmiyYBdv_M3H1Au_f56ROalMfjPfuArn0qSN6gKpPNu3-2rS9n2LRsKN6ht3FE5bgEPPzg7aCbcVjgzeM6tmjmDT0z1sys9A6CDvVVa_Ij_YH5FHYhwvzrlo-KVPBIEkq8guzG9/s1600/76.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 178px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530478228639415154" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4B0LO6BmiyYBdv_M3H1Au_f56ROalMfjPfuArn0qSN6gKpPNu3-2rS9n2LRsKN6ht3FE5bgEPPzg7aCbcVjgzeM6tmjmDT0z1sys9A6CDvVVa_Ij_YH5FHYhwvzrlo-KVPBIEkq8guzG9/s400/76.jpg" /></a><br />This was my clients idea,</div><div align="center">but fits in very well with my style.</div><div align="center">Pink bare feet with rolled up jeans</div><div align="center">on hard concrete steps,</div><div align="center">yup...right up my alley!</div><div align="center"><br /></div><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyYLuWWeVlIBMkZAWs_qgZLyXqQUHfA8PvH8Sd2GVfmr-24_1Ttj2AhtG0G5HsQJbHqibke68WUngsAhE4eXeD987L15_JQtiP31qMiNzu6VI6_MJ4XsIEYkQHOqZLzi1-_q2Oj13R9lE/s1600/69.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530478053184406066" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJyYLuWWeVlIBMkZAWs_qgZLyXqQUHfA8PvH8Sd2GVfmr-24_1Ttj2AhtG0G5HsQJbHqibke68WUngsAhE4eXeD987L15_JQtiP31qMiNzu6VI6_MJ4XsIEYkQHOqZLzi1-_q2Oj13R9lE/s400/69.jpg" /></a>Brightly colored doors....I just had to shoot here!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0_iBRvzqAB8ZAqPPHHlvogWK0XHtMXPinzjv5ajCqxJfCVf2JJdZnLnKYSLS1aRUSLjRY5HCMjlg-4mvdZVfulZGRWDWK17Ti0iCURWxBpMasXAb5r6-8ondQMvcUJBpVK5jSc8HKzJ4/s1600/115.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530477537109516658" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn0_iBRvzqAB8ZAqPPHHlvogWK0XHtMXPinzjv5ajCqxJfCVf2JJdZnLnKYSLS1aRUSLjRY5HCMjlg-4mvdZVfulZGRWDWK17Ti0iCURWxBpMasXAb5r6-8ondQMvcUJBpVK5jSc8HKzJ4/s400/115.jpg" /></a>More colored doors<br />with an urban feel.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXsRSrqUocrDs7F2imE9Vyyc3ax0Z6gfie3L-BvrmVs1FIXVIiz6PECwrmOO3aMMoRjTUz4085U8ooodVbxYjy6ILq3RhRYKJ-Yr0HMq67zLngy4-Q0ZoJTKuMt1ruaNiSUTsN6NeVdaDb/s1600/97.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530477363095753650" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXsRSrqUocrDs7F2imE9Vyyc3ax0Z6gfie3L-BvrmVs1FIXVIiz6PECwrmOO3aMMoRjTUz4085U8ooodVbxYjy6ILq3RhRYKJ-Yr0HMq67zLngy4-Q0ZoJTKuMt1ruaNiSUTsN6NeVdaDb/s400/97.jpg" /></a>Another cool door,<br />a little gothic looking.<br />A ruffled little girl and a kiss<br />was the perfect way to go.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5LrBbgHRTmGO5FgjGBDBzYJGYpvOu1T0cptJvxg-DixbnS1FVZvC_3hghAqMfoR0OJ8uzQfNtEUEQm0COTzS1CRWA4bq5hR5wowrrfvJB0us9om3xY67kwqQZ-LoADOR2E0AgY9x9pTa/s1600/48.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530477172332937730" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiu5LrBbgHRTmGO5FgjGBDBzYJGYpvOu1T0cptJvxg-DixbnS1FVZvC_3hghAqMfoR0OJ8uzQfNtEUEQm0COTzS1CRWA4bq5hR5wowrrfvJB0us9om3xY67kwqQZ-LoADOR2E0AgY9x9pTa/s400/48.jpg" /></a>As soon as I saw this rusted metal wall<br />I knew exactly what I was gonna do with it<br />and it turned out to be one of my favorite shots of the shoot.<br />Thanks IAN!<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwe_Cc5iOUMZd-m0XB6mRWniInp4ssXBywE1E4yZtcIEiTNbx3JHv2AyW3Ke3Nx84LQS0_deR5nmm_cVej2CqpdTq1h-2D5_5rtbz557aVcNyM-dYFqi5vreT09an5mTSTtKJmgpivUB6V/s1600/112.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530477039684642002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwe_Cc5iOUMZd-m0XB6mRWniInp4ssXBywE1E4yZtcIEiTNbx3JHv2AyW3Ke3Nx84LQS0_deR5nmm_cVej2CqpdTq1h-2D5_5rtbz557aVcNyM-dYFqi5vreT09an5mTSTtKJmgpivUB6V/s400/112.jpg" /></a>It took a few shots to get the "mood" I wanted<br />for this couple,<br />but I got it.<br />When I shoot couples,<br />I try to create an emotion with the photo.<br />Sometimes I want it to be smoldering<br />and sexy,<br />other times I'm just after fun!<br />I want the photos to tell the story of them.<br />(without disembodied voices)<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGNkEyUGbIACQd4rU0orZup6xjgemyXYIX5TOIG-ia8yjiNf3Nk0HyXR_oeTGHb67Jj9s8xtWyNQX5FrKUpY_dMEJsn9eaLuQyB6Cu2Us2YY8TaMk__SW5dHtFd_5Qg4ibdo0X1hhQvv8/s1600/82.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530476878342613970" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlGNkEyUGbIACQd4rU0orZup6xjgemyXYIX5TOIG-ia8yjiNf3Nk0HyXR_oeTGHb67Jj9s8xtWyNQX5FrKUpY_dMEJsn9eaLuQyB6Cu2Us2YY8TaMk__SW5dHtFd_5Qg4ibdo0X1hhQvv8/s400/82.jpg" /></a>I've always wanted to do a "cafe shot"<br />and alas, we happened upon a table and chairs.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UPvA6r1junjuO5l6j5vRSErYRh_bAnXc_TaIkYyaIxtRCzo3vSCbm5Aocq7fH-L_AcQwcwnJqPmLAYkB6MnwsXQD7PozuaEadXpprCk6HSwyl0832YXx45xHs0r4AEPbOg3mVeA7wR1R/s1600/71.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530476746606214002" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5UPvA6r1junjuO5l6j5vRSErYRh_bAnXc_TaIkYyaIxtRCzo3vSCbm5Aocq7fH-L_AcQwcwnJqPmLAYkB6MnwsXQD7PozuaEadXpprCk6HSwyl0832YXx45xHs0r4AEPbOg3mVeA7wR1R/s400/71.jpg" /></a>What else could you do with a brick<br />alley way<br />except maybe put a newborn in a basket<br />right in the middle of it?</div><div align="center">(DUH!)<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhraUqNXPp1xw5O86LrMvtPEJQVN8ULNlnCEFSecCoPgT3VIpHDPS8wK-8Elw6Zu0fC2nCM85i5AHFgQ8Bi_zqoU0y66QN2WiwTEEOvteYKCpfAzH4zRKgeCEMxUXJ-pWIxJdp4zzi9L4q1/s1600/23.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530476465200442466" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhraUqNXPp1xw5O86LrMvtPEJQVN8ULNlnCEFSecCoPgT3VIpHDPS8wK-8Elw6Zu0fC2nCM85i5AHFgQ8Bi_zqoU0y66QN2WiwTEEOvteYKCpfAzH4zRKgeCEMxUXJ-pWIxJdp4zzi9L4q1/s400/23.jpg" /></a>There's the old wall with the vine growing<br />on it. More couple love stories!<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphen06xe345KRGDc-AHQfDtZH4dDRiOj4fKrNwhOtHDrUudeKstz19x2BRw3_8AvvzVgnPlv5wDOIyAiI8Wn2SMqdlLitqAMc1Uu3q17RM0XiEOpZZcrhlrH94EZlT7dZil7TTgv-Q-UL_y/s1600/61.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530476251357533106" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhyphenhyphen06xe345KRGDc-AHQfDtZH4dDRiOj4fKrNwhOtHDrUudeKstz19x2BRw3_8AvvzVgnPlv5wDOIyAiI8Wn2SMqdlLitqAMc1Uu3q17RM0XiEOpZZcrhlrH94EZlT7dZil7TTgv-Q-UL_y/s400/61.jpg" /></a>This staircase<br />was made for these two!<br />There's a whole story in my mind<br />about the boy in the blue shoes<br />and his ruffly little sister.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcdrGL38xSG9tBihccDejx4ROQPbaD7v3-fFoJ1o25AJ8OLMxOhxBCYAiNBlacVEQLfWZmKo-_sN2uJr6OG1QPbh7K5qWxSL81E2v58ruFOmsCTTrHxHuDa1idFJBH7ubD_W-sbdjufc2/s1600/89.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530476044195420114" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxcdrGL38xSG9tBihccDejx4ROQPbaD7v3-fFoJ1o25AJ8OLMxOhxBCYAiNBlacVEQLfWZmKo-_sN2uJr6OG1QPbh7K5qWxSL81E2v58ruFOmsCTTrHxHuDa1idFJBH7ubD_W-sbdjufc2/s400/89.jpg" /></a>I have driven past this old staircase<br />several times since we've lived here<br />and I always saw two little girls on it.<br />Just my luck that<br />I had two little clients with me<br />when shooting at this location.<br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2YvipMhlFwN71UW7nT-vMq-_4zA-qAonRQ1kd21dK5vF0iA2Nj-RDl4xtMslY_FcuLOHs7tGNQdgcMF44SM59KaKdUm9FO45uZ4FOLkXOpix9a7aSRtDqIeHklLl7ak_nS_7LaSFpaiKU/s1600/43.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530475779240150914" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2YvipMhlFwN71UW7nT-vMq-_4zA-qAonRQ1kd21dK5vF0iA2Nj-RDl4xtMslY_FcuLOHs7tGNQdgcMF44SM59KaKdUm9FO45uZ4FOLkXOpix9a7aSRtDqIeHklLl7ak_nS_7LaSFpaiKU/s400/43.jpg" /></a>The rusted out wall again.<br />It's the perfect compliment to her<br />sweetness.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-8f5F5DC3ovHma-xjimCP7MaWp8qOXvngIwkFv4NIEHp7qtCCdEv8AdbxAQ_5e0eE1CNQWg4mkOOZ2Y3hF-pGgDip97adIBgCXnQ0ZSiOsqzwUxtEOQJfS-cPKF8dwp5wZkB0_K6m0we/s1600/25.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530475694245347138" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC-8f5F5DC3ovHma-xjimCP7MaWp8qOXvngIwkFv4NIEHp7qtCCdEv8AdbxAQ_5e0eE1CNQWg4mkOOZ2Y3hF-pGgDip97adIBgCXnQ0ZSiOsqzwUxtEOQJfS-cPKF8dwp5wZkB0_K6m0we/s400/25.jpg" /></a>Who can resist<br />the giggles of little kids?<br />Place it up against a weathered trailor<br />and it's magic to me.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3mvuaZY7Xv5SV6y6N0vl39XFyA9BWVBQbsZOve1qXoTWxK3DwYlrA4d0aZnMkJSl-HvkxRYyVLUBrSnHkDPKTUJKpKB2l0KYuIGkejduahiHCnfrkykbfNqnk0c-i2dTNYHqAXVdhfgYy/s1600/18.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 257px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5530475434184995842" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3mvuaZY7Xv5SV6y6N0vl39XFyA9BWVBQbsZOve1qXoTWxK3DwYlrA4d0aZnMkJSl-HvkxRYyVLUBrSnHkDPKTUJKpKB2l0KYuIGkejduahiHCnfrkykbfNqnk0c-i2dTNYHqAXVdhfgYy/s400/18.jpg" /></a><br />This is one of my new favorite locations.<br />It is an old abandoned store with the<br />most fabulous peeling blue paint.<br />It makes my pink rug pop<br />and showcases another giggly girl<br />perfectly.<br /><br />*<br />I know this isn't rocket science<br />and I'm not the most creative person alive,<br />although I might just be the craziest,<br />but I just thought you might<br />enjoy a little peek into what goes on<br />inside my brain when<br />I pick my locations and backgrounds.<br />And as for that little abnormality I have?<br />I'm just going to embrace IAN<br />and call it what it is...<br />voices inside my head!<br /><br /><br /><br /><br />*<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-9067328744661950242010-09-29T10:51:00.011-04:002010-09-29T15:32:35.689-04:00The Walmart Oath<div align="center">When I was pregnant with my first child,</div><br /><div align="center">I would carefully observe other moms</div><br /><div align="center">in a store like Walmart or Target.</div><br /><div align="center">These moms probably were pretty at some point.</div><br /><div align="center">They might have had light in their eyes</div><br /><div align="center">a few months ago,</div><br /><div align="center">But now their eyes were glazed over </div><br /><div align="center">and their faces were twisted into</div><br /><div align="center">an expression that can only be described as</div><br /><div align="center">a mix of an anger, frustration</div><br /><div align="center">confusion and sleep exhaustion. </div><br /><div align="center">The one thing these moms all had in common</div><br /><div align="center">was a little person or two </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">or three in tow.</div><br /><div align="center">These little people had long since outgrown</div><br /><div align="center">the glory days of their bassinets and booties</div><br /><div align="center">and now doned light up tennis shoes</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">and the beginnings of one or two adult teeth.</div><br /><div align="center">They were curious two year olds, demanding four year olds</div><br /><div align="center">and often know it all seven year olds.</div><br /><div align="center">The tiredest of moms had a combination of all three</div><br /><div align="center">with her at one time.</div><br /><div align="center">I'd see these women,</div><br /><div align="center">but I didn't really seeeeee them.</div><br /><div align="center">I would pat my belly and smile </div><br /><div align="center">thinking I was way smarter than they were</div><br /><div align="center">and that I would never be dragging a screaming child </div><br /><div align="center">whose legs had turned to jello</div><br /><div align="center">down the frozen food aisle.</div><br /><div align="center">Never would my little cherub go into public</div><br /><div align="center">wearing pajamas, or a costume of any sort, or mismatched socks.</div><br /><div align="center">They'd never pull down displays,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">scream for candy at the top of their lungs</div><br /><div align="center">or stick their tongues out at little old ladies </div><br /><div align="center">who came up to pinch their cheeks.</div><br /><div align="center">Nope! </div><br /><div align="center">My parenting skills would combat all of this.</div><br /><div align="center">After all I had read dozens of books</div><br /><div align="center">and had done my research on </div><br /><div align="center">how to raise delightful children.</div><br /><div align="center">It didn't take long for my bubble to burst.</div><br /><div align="center">I actually held it together pretty well with the </div><br /><div align="center">first little guy.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Except for a few knock down drag outs over </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">what fast food restaurant </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">we would go to</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I'd say we had a pretty smooth first 20 months or so.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">The addition of my second son brought </div><br /><div align="center">a little bit more of a challenge</div><br /><div align="center">because now I was out numbered.</div><br /><div align="center">During my days of wrangling my two little lion cubs,</div><br /><div align="center">we only had a few near unconscious grocery cart plunges,</div><br /><div align="center">about a million toy aisle freak outs,</div><br /><div align="center">some candy aisle fit throwing</div><br /><div align="center">and one or two display topples.</div><br /><div align="center">And I had read books! </div><br /><div align="center">Imagine how bad it would have been</div><br /><div align="center">had I not been well read!</div><br /><div align="center">Enter Princess number one.</div><br /><div align="center">She was such a good little baby,</div><br /><div align="center">and by "good" I mean </div><br /><div align="center">that I could bring her into the house in her carseat</div><br /><div align="center">and set her on the floor in the foyer</div><br /><div align="center">and she would not utter a peep until I had unloaded and put away</div><br /><div align="center">4.8 million bags of groceries.</div><br /><div align="center">That's good in my book!</div><br /><div align="center">But with the addition of baby number three</div><br /><div align="center">came the twisted face.</div><br /><div align="center">Inevitably, I was that mom in the store</div><br /><div align="center">with her hair thrown up in a ponytail</div><br /><div align="center">wearing a t-shirt and jeans,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">chasing after three very mobile kids</div><br /><div align="center">and saying the same few phrases over and over.</div><br /><div align="center">"Don't touch that!"</div><br /><div align="center">"Get over here right now!"</div><br /><div align="center">"Don't throw that apple!"</div><br /><div align="center">"Stop pulling your sister's hair!"</div><br /><div align="center">"You are not gonna get a prize</div><br /><div align="center">if you don't staighten up!"</div><br /><div align="center">That last one works everytime I might add.</div><br /><div align="center">Well, if you say it 14 times in each aisle,</div><br /><div align="center">they will straighten up as soon as you buy the prize.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Somewhere along the line,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I stopped trying to be the perfect mother </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">with the most well behaved children </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">and just started enjoying them,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">praying ALOT</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">and having a sense of humor.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">When we were free of most of the antics</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">of my first three,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">my husband and I decided that it would be </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">"fun"</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">to have one single baby on the tail end </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">of our reproductive years</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">(and by "end" I mean early 30's).</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Just one little bundle to shower with love</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">and attention while the other three began to develope</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">interests of their own apart from mom and dad.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Enter Brendell.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">You'd think,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">being the veteran mom that I am,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">that I would have shed my delusions over</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">how my child would be.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I imagined a little tu-tu clad princess</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">with golden ringletts </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">who was loved and adored by her older siblings.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Yeah, that lasted for approximately 21.5 months</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">and then her will kicked in!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Suddenly I found myself</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">"that mom" in the supermarket again.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Only this time,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I wasn't as spry as I had been in my twenties</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">and it only took one little tyrant </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">to twist my face up!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">It took me a few years,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">okay 7 years and a couple months,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">but I suddenly was hit with a stroke of genius.</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">I developed </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">"The Walmart Oath".</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">Any store can be substituted,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">because we all know that children are not</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">descretionary when it comes to where </div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">they decide to throw a fit,</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div><div align="center">but Walmart seemed relateable to most moms.</div><div align="center"></div><br /><p align="center">Here is my sweet Princess Brendell Faith.</p><p align="center">Darling isn't she?</p><p align="center"><br />But if I am not careful,</p><div align="center">this.......</div><div align="center"><br /></div><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hjtlpFkrk8pDWt66wSmHd_-S52FeaZUHgovd6cOo98iiEXwEuBbzI8_2pMZPlPw-8Z8vNNU0yvbzGV5jKVsQlRFK7hWG_dV14z_rXfwWIyBcD2X9V8YbGst8pexUIbhu-Cg7wbKU_Fcz/s1600/bren.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522351751844630418" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hjtlpFkrk8pDWt66wSmHd_-S52FeaZUHgovd6cOo98iiEXwEuBbzI8_2pMZPlPw-8Z8vNNU0yvbzGV5jKVsQlRFK7hWG_dV14z_rXfwWIyBcD2X9V8YbGst8pexUIbhu-Cg7wbKU_Fcz/s400/bren.jpg" /></a></p><p align="center">can turn into this....</p><p align="center"></p><p align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_Ik8mfSfPgAeJWz1v_qTFKdoV33_NpPlMTfFbY7Ef8-lGkUvFyjDF85lofWeLn3NBzU4C_09g54Zz0Dy4rSL41hCaAnyktyW2P1SMTM4p4haGRQPVbI8eudeGy534F9lpXOmBqGCl9P_/s1600/bren1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522351667737115874" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk_Ik8mfSfPgAeJWz1v_qTFKdoV33_NpPlMTfFbY7Ef8-lGkUvFyjDF85lofWeLn3NBzU4C_09g54Zz0Dy4rSL41hCaAnyktyW2P1SMTM4p4haGRQPVbI8eudeGy534F9lpXOmBqGCl9P_/s400/bren1.jpg" /></a>which very quickly spirals down</p><p align="center">to this.......<br /><br /><br /></p><div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigdW2AHPLtjsaTeVbmzKSylI2fhgz22hFeJSw4-mUyIX034b7cZi_-M4tXW7XQ8kcnYygd-E9MArYr6b7IH0j_CCN0vKQQWPZpif0iKNnI0Z_Z8iF9zZcGdEIL1MlwiyWXNwV50xQcPBaZ/s1600/2.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522351503186610706" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigdW2AHPLtjsaTeVbmzKSylI2fhgz22hFeJSw4-mUyIX034b7cZi_-M4tXW7XQ8kcnYygd-E9MArYr6b7IH0j_CCN0vKQQWPZpif0iKNnI0Z_Z8iF9zZcGdEIL1MlwiyWXNwV50xQcPBaZ/s400/2.jpg" /></a>So to avoid public displays of<br /><br />seven year old drama,<br /><br />I have employed<br /><br />"The Walmart Oath"<br /><br />which Brendell must recite once<br /><br />before we leave the house on any<br /><br />shopping excursion<br /><br />and twice if she's tired.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmD4271wBNEoMKkViN8Iby7aYZp9kBzFPzUZDxoJYXGY6QisIh-kEzTSMoQULNeWrivYwGhlEfEQzOHyfvqsd67UxF1aWC5RQwf8L94A5XlCsSJcXU4YvR_KVCL5W7aFDNSx2PYRgouOw/s1600/1.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 400px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 268px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5522351129020370546" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvmD4271wBNEoMKkViN8Iby7aYZp9kBzFPzUZDxoJYXGY6QisIh-kEzTSMoQULNeWrivYwGhlEfEQzOHyfvqsd67UxF1aWC5RQwf8L94A5XlCsSJcXU4YvR_KVCL5W7aFDNSx2PYRgouOw/s400/1.jpg" /></a><br />"I, Brendell Faith Cleary<br />do promise, promise, promise<br />to behave like a lady in the store.<br />I will not throw a fit, cross my arms,<br />stomp my foot,<br />give the stink eye,<br />stick out my tongue,<br />ask for something more than once,<br />roll my eyes,<br />annoy my siblings,<br />walk off in a huff,<br />cry, complain, whine,<br />sulk or pout.<br />I will walk beside my mom<br />and happily help her when she asks me to.<br />So help me<br />Hannah Montanna, Taylor Swift<br />and iCarly.<br />(God just seemed too sacred to use<br />in jest)<br /><br />Sometimes it works<br />sometimes it doesn't.<br /><br />The end.<br /><br /><br /><br /></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-929040153350664225.post-87595235277574546972010-09-28T09:45:00.005-04:002010-09-28T11:28:59.129-04:00rib searching<div align="center"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGebLXDe2Nama2FPupWVlyBKM2Ul7rIwU7jSQqe5o4vUEqxZm6u8V9rZCnaxHi9DyPU0ithGnx3wJ2M439LyfXgKVVpDA0sM5L_WWbgpl5qljSatWCOmpfdOvZsHwe060R4WvejfH_3VYT/s1600/24.jpg"><img style="TEXT-ALIGN: center; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 268px; DISPLAY: block; HEIGHT: 400px; CURSOR: hand" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5521960165408210386" border="0" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGebLXDe2Nama2FPupWVlyBKM2Ul7rIwU7jSQqe5o4vUEqxZm6u8V9rZCnaxHi9DyPU0ithGnx3wJ2M439LyfXgKVVpDA0sM5L_WWbgpl5qljSatWCOmpfdOvZsHwe060R4WvejfH_3VYT/s400/24.jpg" /></a> This kid is such a nut!</div><div align="center">From the time he could talk,</div><div align="center">he has brought so much laughter into our lives.</div><div align="center">His comedic timing is dead on</div><div align="center">and his humor is universal.</div><div align="center">He's just naturally funny without</div><div align="center">even having to try.</div><div align="center">I was recently reminded of this when we stumbled upon</div><div align="center">an old family website that I had built.</div><div align="center">I hadn't posted to it since</div><div align="center">Brendell was an infant, </div><div align="center">but it's still there.</div><div align="center">I have to share this story from 2001.</div><div align="center"><br />"The other night at dinner, one of the kids asked me how God made people.</div><div align="center">I explained how God made Adam out of dust and then Eve from Adam's rib.</div><div align="center">David also told them that boys have one less rib than girls.</div><div align="center">I added that when the boys get married, it is like finding their other rib.</div><div align="center">We told them that God had a perfect match out there for each of them </div><div align="center">and that they would someday belong to someone just like David and I </div><div align="center">belong to eachother.</div><div align="center">Michael was very curious and asked, "Mom, who do I belong to?"</div><div align="center">I told him that none of us knew right now who that girl would be but that</div><div align="center">we would pray for her whenever we thought of it.</div><div align="center">The next night at bedtime prayer I heard Michael say his usual</div><div align="center">"Thank you God for everything you have done for me....."</div><div align="center">but he ended it differently this time. </div><div align="center">He said, "And take care of that girl that gots my other rib. Amen!"</div><div align="center">Someday we will meet this special girl and I will tell her that Michael</div><div align="center">has been praying for her since he was seven and boy is he </div><div align="center">happy to have found his rib!"</div><div align="center">*</div><div align="center">At almost 17 years old,</div><div align="center">he's definitely stepped up his rib search!</div><div align="center">This story was a reminder to me to cover</div><div align="center">both him and his future mate in prayer.</div><div align="center">It's a very hard thing to be obedient </div><div align="center">in a disobedient world,</div><div align="center">but the payoff of self control is </div><div align="center">monumental.</div><div align="center">God has more blessings for us</div><div align="center">than we can fathom</div><div align="center">and his timing is perfect.</div><div align="center">Hang in there son!</div><div align="center">God knows who you belong to</div><div align="center">and I'm certain that she is worth the wait!</div><div align="center"></div><div align="center"></div>Beccahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04735415189420065214noreply@blogger.com1