tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-131456762024-03-06T20:55:59.445-08:00Amy's blah, blah, bloggingAmy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.comBlogger484125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-29307548487654755812016-06-15T06:04:00.000-07:002016-06-15T06:04:08.779-07:00The VinesI am a rule follower by nature. I see things as black and white, I'm a truth teller and often honest to a fault. While accuracy is certainly a desired quality, it can be a fault too. What you don't know, is I'm silently correcting your grammar, I edit your Facebook posts for punctuation in my head and don't even get me started on your use of homophones. Sadly, this does not just stop with grammar issues, I have a drive for things to be "fair", to right the wrongs and to seek justice.<br />
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That doesn't leave room for much grace.<br />
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Today I was reading the story of Jonah. The last chapter of this fascinating book of the Bible often gets overlooked. Every child who has attended Sunday school for any amount of time knows about the prophet who got swallowed by a great fish when he disobeys God to go tell the Ninevites to repent or God will destroy their city. He finally does repent, is spat out and goes to Nineveh to tell the Ninevites about God and they do repent. God's anger relents and the city is not destroyed.<br />
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The last chapter sees Jonah watching this scene and waiting for God's judgement to come. When God shows mercy Jonah is seriously angry. He's in a very hot place and seeks shelter under a large vine God has provided that has sprung up. The next day the plant suddenly dies when eaten by a worm and Jonah is again angry. This time about God letting the plant die. God asks him if he has a right to be angry about the vine, Jonah replies he's angry enough to die. <br />
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This next part is my favorite, because I see so much of myself in it. Jonah 4:10-11, "But the Lord said, "You have been concerned about this vine, though you did not tend it or make it grow. It sprang up overnight and died overnight. But Nineveh has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who cannot tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?"<br />
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The vine for me, being correct and factual and fair, is not what God says is important. Showing God's compassion to a lost and dying world, a world that needs to understand God loves them, and sent his son to save them is important. I think today I'll work on looking past the vines in my life and caring for people's hearts instead.<br />
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(P.S. I hope you find some grammatical errors in this passage, that would really make me laugh!)Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-57478632686444259152015-01-01T03:59:00.001-08:002015-01-01T04:27:20.401-08:00Prone to WanderOver the past several years, I have been working on becoming a certified Biblical counselor through the Association of Certified Biblical Counselors. After several years, I just recently completed the program. Through the process, I have also been counseling in my church and for a para-church organization. Counseling has always come very natural to me, I was a social worker for many years and even before that, people were always coming to me with their problems and concerns, so it was just a natural fit.<br />
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I don't think anything could have prepared me though, for these past couple of years, and even more as my husband has too become a counselor. You see the very worst of people, their idolatrous hearts, the shame that comes along with it, how people choose a myriad of ways to run from the God they say they love, and then all the consequences that come along with it. You can't help but, in some ways, become disgusted and disillusioned as you see marriages break down, relationships shatter and churches splinter. It's just ugly and awful. It absolutely makes you wonder why you would ever have chosen to be part of this ministry. (Although, of course, I believe God calls us into ministry, which is another discussion for another day.)<br />
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Then, God reveals the depths of my own sin. The wickedness and depravity I have come from and could so easily return to. And, of course, all that I still struggle with today. The unkind words, the judgmental nature, the pride, the quick temper... But oh, how, in humility, He saved me. Even a wretch such as me. I am "Prone to wander, Lord I feel it, prone to leave the God I love..." And I am, once again, humbled and willing to go where he wants me to go, to be His hands and feet to help restore my brothers and sisters in Christ. For, they are really not that different me. I'm so thankful that He could see this broken vessel as something that could bring others into relationship with Him. <br />
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Here I am Lord, send me.Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-77670302127119658082014-12-09T21:03:00.000-08:002014-12-09T21:03:00.406-08:00Two years?It's hard to believe it's been two years since I've posted on my blog. It was such a big part of my days several years back, but life has gotten busy and this has surely fallen by the wayside. As the girls grow it's hard to remember or make time even for writing. <br />
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Lilla is 8 and in the 4th grade now. She blows me away with her memorization and interest in so many things. Lately she has taken a real interest in history. I think that started with the American girl books but today she was asking all about how world war 1 started. She has been begging for a violin for years now so she will finally get her wish at Christmas this year. It will be interesting to see how she does with that. She is also about to be in a play at church, she's blowing through Scripture memorization at Awana and she's involved with American Heritage girls, a Christian girls scouting program. She is on the move.<br />
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Anna is also changing and forming into a totally new person all the time. She will be 6 next week. She is so clever and funny. She is in kindergarten this year and is really enjoying putting letters together and understanding all the sounds that they make. It's so fun to see her reacting when she really starts to understand and get new information she learns in her school. She is still much more shy than Lilla ever was, but she's even more strong willed than Lilla. It's so funny because Lilla looks like me but Anna is more like me in personality. She sings beautifully and I really think has a musical ability, so that will be interesting to see develop as the years go on. She has amazed me this year with her ability to memorize as well. She had all the books of the Bible down within 2 real weeks of beginning. <br />
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This year we took a trip out west and got to see Mount Rushmore, Yellowstone, the Badlands, the Grand Tetons and the Rockies. It was absolutely beautiful, and, much colder than we had anticipated in late August/early September. It was neat though to see all those things that we had always seen pictures of, to really have a better understanding of them. We would love to return to Yellowstone someday as we couldn't get enough of it and all the wonderful nature programs there.<br />
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Well, enough of an update for now, it's late and a good sleep is calling...<br />
<br />Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-18039650345138952992012-12-27T06:21:00.000-08:002012-12-27T06:31:53.590-08:00An American ChristmasAs most of you know, we are homeschoolers, but once a week we do attend a homeschool co-op where over 100 kids come together for all different types of classes. I teach photography and the kids get to do things like gym and art that I wouldn't be able to do at home.<br />
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There are times that some teachers aren't able to make it so I may fill in for them in other classes as well. For a few weeks I filled in for Lilla's geography teacher so I got to see Lilla's classroom and how things went for her. <br />
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I noticed right away that Lilla was alone. She sat on the other side of the table at lunch than the other girls, she sat alone at a table in class, she walked to the classes alone...everything. As a parent, this just hurt my heart. Lilla is really friendly and outgoing so I couldn't imagine why this would be. To be honest, I'm still not sure, but something I did notice is that it didn't seem to bother Lilla at all. She just went on about her day and looked forward to the time that she got to see her best friend in bible quiz at the end of the day. It's a very small class full of girls that all surround around one other girl that kind of runs the room and Lilla is the only one who doesn't do that. It's very interesting to me to watch.<br />
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Anyway, at lunch one day the girls all started talking about "things" they had gotten for birthdays and Christmas' as it had just been one girls birthday. They got sparkly hats and clothes, toys and diary's...and inevitably, the topic moved to American girl dolls. They all began to discuss how many they had. This girl had one, this girl had three...it went around the table and Lilla said, "I have two!" My heart sank again because she doesn't have two American girl dolls, she has two dolls from Target that are similiar in size and type. My husband and I just can't justify $120 on a doll that they carry around, get dirty, clothes get torn up... With such a tight budget we just can't. So, after school that day I explained to Lilla about the difference in dolls. I hadn't told her to that point as I didn't even know she'd ever even heard of American girl dolls. She's usually oblivious to anything name brand.<br />
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After that I started thinking maybe we could just do that, and only that, for Christmas. So, I asked her if she'd want that. She thought, in her Lilla way for a long time, and then came back to me and said, "No mom, I don't think that would be the wise choice. That's a lot of money for a doll." Again, tears from me as I just can't help but love a child that would say something like that. Later on that week I was relaying the story of how lovely Lilla was about the doll and my mom, who is sympathetic to being left out, began to have her heart set on getting one for her. So she did. And this was Christmas...<br />
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Don't miss the size of Lilla's eyes in this picture.<br />
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Hugging the box! Oh, you should have heard the hoops and hollers! She was totally surprised and it was THE single best reaction ever for a gift.<br />
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Isn't she lovely?Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com18tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-5489563425160981142012-09-07T16:13:00.001-07:002012-09-07T16:13:06.325-07:00Thank God, redeemed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<br />Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-46587569810852983342012-08-22T06:59:00.003-07:002012-08-22T06:59:27.556-07:00No matter whatLast night as we sat around the dinner table we began discussing what my husband would teach at Awana tonight. He was tossing around a couple of ideas but had nothing concrete yet. Lilla was listening in so I asked her what she thought Daddy should teach. Here is a little window to the conversation:<br />
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Me: Lilla, what do you think Daddy should teach on?<br />
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Lilla: Noah.<br />
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Me: Noah? Well, Noah is a good story but what is the lesson in Noah? (I'm thinking she's going to say something about rainbows or God's faithfulness at this point.)<br />
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Lilla: No matter what happens you should always listen to God. Even if your friends make fun of you, you should still do what he says. <br />
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Me: We really should.<br />
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Lilla: Yes, because you know, everyone was probably laughing that he's building this boat but he kept right on building it. We should do that too, just keep doing what he says.<br />
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Michael and I just stared at her for a second, trying to take in what she just said. <br />
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Oh, and Michael has a lesson plan.<br />
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<br />Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-82044819935233654792012-06-20T20:45:00.000-07:002012-06-20T20:49:40.107-07:00PonderingAs I peruse facebook, so often I see posts from mom's and dad's about how their child won the jump roping the world competition or spelled the longest word in the dictionary with no repeated letters (Uncopyrightable) or how their 1 year old has gone #2, 2 1/2 times that day. (TMI people, TMI!!)<br />
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As a parent, I know what it is like to be proud of your child. You want to be proud of them and you want the world to also see the awesomeness that exudes from their very pores. Don't we all as parents?</div>
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Well, today, something happened that made me a different kind of proud. I went in to drop Lilla off at VBS tonight. This was her third night to a church we've not visited before. I had searched for this particular VBS and that's how she wound up there as it was the closet to our house. Anyway, her leader stopped me for a little bit of small talk and then was talking about Lilla had taken part in the discussions and referred to her going to this VBS before. I told her she had not, she said, well, I know she's not been to this church before but she has been to this VBS. I again told her she had not. This conversation went on for about a minute before she understood Lilla had in fact not been to this VBS. </div>
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The lady then kind of stared at me kind of dumbfoundedly. She then said, "She knows all the answers and is telling us the stories." I kind of laughed and said, "She really likes Bible stories." She then told me how this was not normal how well she really knew the stories, she just couldn't believe she'd never been to this VBS before and how Lilla kept them on their toes.</div>
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My heart swelled with joy because I really want her to know and love the Bible. I want her to have an understanding and theology that only bring her closer to her creator. I'm not saying this to get a "good job Amy", I'm actually saying it to say, this is what is important. Sports and academics and all the other stuff has it's place, but oh, for our children to have their hearts and minds set on God...well, there is just nothing else like that in the world. </div>
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<span style="background-color: #f9fdff; color: #001320; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 15px; line-height: 22px;"><i>Luke 2:19 But Mary treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.</i></span>
</div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-23575696624539747962012-05-21T05:57:00.001-07:002012-05-21T06:04:04.974-07:00Thank you GodLately I have been feeling, and if I'm honest, acting, very negatively. It seems everything that comes out of my mouth is negative, I'm harsh with my family, I'm easily irritated with friends, I'm annoyed with the too slow cashier at Wal-Mart, I'm bothered by the sun shining too bright in my eyes, I'm enraged by the driver next to me that is tailing somebody far too close. The list can go on and on. I'm just negative. And frankly, I haven't liked me lately.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrxcpPo_fS1ul9bdMuSEv2GRCpi9SRCn5soW_-ygxhhIsZS0AYYMZS-RIdDjWc2TJZ5gK3EIRsN2ysFJcXRN9CNFCfPbAWGjV0oKdxtkyrsWVNyzhW_2FsC5y-LyjNm6ZrggZIew/s1600/Spring+2012+081.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrxcpPo_fS1ul9bdMuSEv2GRCpi9SRCn5soW_-ygxhhIsZS0AYYMZS-RIdDjWc2TJZ5gK3EIRsN2ysFJcXRN9CNFCfPbAWGjV0oKdxtkyrsWVNyzhW_2FsC5y-LyjNm6ZrggZIew/s320/Spring+2012+081.JPG" width="320" /></a>I don't think many have liked me lately. And the worst part is I notice it passing down to my children. I notice when I am negative they start to be negative too. Particularly Lilla. And it makes me sad. I want my girls to experience the freedom and joy that comes from a life of no negativity. <br />
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So I've been evaluating why. Why am I so irritated with my husband's innocent comment about dinner, why do I get angry when I see the crayons spilled all over the living room floor, why do I roll my eyes when I see certain phone numbers on my caller ID, why am I annoyed that everyone has the same struggles on a different day, why does it seem I'm the only one struggling with what I am and everyone else seems to have it easier? Negativity.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJAoigtoL1JkaQySL_X35TU1QgHvitgIc5ReVuvEdDxqF-Be4Nh1SPTD8AtKiDqgghPe8aT1wXESfkYFzxxr4kYqL2Ep1O7eplxXx4pJ7mSuYJwCZ5KOpNCXcwfsSNuyLBgZXXyQ/s1600/Anna.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJAoigtoL1JkaQySL_X35TU1QgHvitgIc5ReVuvEdDxqF-Be4Nh1SPTD8AtKiDqgghPe8aT1wXESfkYFzxxr4kYqL2Ep1O7eplxXx4pJ7mSuYJwCZ5KOpNCXcwfsSNuyLBgZXXyQ/s320/Anna.jpg" width="320" /></a>It has creeped in and stole so much joy. So much joy. I'm not able to laugh with my children wholeheartedly, I'm not able to enjoy the sun filled days like I should, I'm not able to hear God's whispers, I'm not able to show grace and mercy. Joy stolen.<br />
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So how do I get the joy back? Gratefulness. Thankfulness. Appreciation. I believe when I am focusing on all of the crappy stuff of the world it makes it pretty difficult to focus on all the precious, lovely, many blessings God has given. <br />
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Romans 8:5-8</h3>
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Those who think they can do it on their own end up obsessed with measuring their own moral muscle but never get around to exercising it in real life. Those who trust God's action in them find that God's Spirit is in them—living and breathing God! Obsession with self in these matters is a dead end; attention to God leads us out into the open, into a spacious, free life. Focusing on the self is the opposite of focusing on God. Anyone completely absorbed in self ignores God, ends up thinking more about self than God. That person ignores who God is and what he is doing. And God isn't pleased at being ignored.</div>
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So last night, as I sat pushing my little one on the swing I decided to just start thanking God. Thank you God for a beautiful night, thank you for the green grass, thank you God for the birds chirping a lovely song...and what I noticed was Anna repeating all those things after me. Just yelling out into the air, THANK YOU GOD. She didn't care who could hear her, she just said it with her whole heart. My thankfulness and gratefulness passed down to Anna. Thank you God.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQTMs8H8KgX5Z1oTULd3kf607SnHX5-nFUe3X8Bbj84A3W4MHisiTf91AEg6i6swXU9vgGvs-l8g1-oiotmWr4mUoPvW9Sfzzt6oJFlypaEDX2Q9BAGe2tL-Kn0ivcitN0MxZBg/s1600/Spring+2012+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEQTMs8H8KgX5Z1oTULd3kf607SnHX5-nFUe3X8Bbj84A3W4MHisiTf91AEg6i6swXU9vgGvs-l8g1-oiotmWr4mUoPvW9Sfzzt6oJFlypaEDX2Q9BAGe2tL-Kn0ivcitN0MxZBg/s320/Spring+2012+016.JPG" width="320" /></a>Nehemiah 8:10, "The joy of the Lord is your strength."</blockquote>
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Psalm 23:5, "My cup overflows."</blockquote>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-49839074783005319672012-05-13T20:20:00.001-07:002012-05-13T20:20:53.765-07:00blessed<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUG6WxPrS8gwLATSryPq2AD9bG2apOzEz8U9OpAkMSVe93NmHjASGwdcY1z-Z9cmkd3MygnzamNMe_-fBNmd4IrZoDq4virg30WVATEyPW2AYASBcb84h5767WDrJbkNeheG7pg/s1600/Amy+and+girls.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjQUG6WxPrS8gwLATSryPq2AD9bG2apOzEz8U9OpAkMSVe93NmHjASGwdcY1z-Z9cmkd3MygnzamNMe_-fBNmd4IrZoDq4virg30WVATEyPW2AYASBcb84h5767WDrJbkNeheG7pg/s320/Amy+and+girls.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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My girls and I on Mother's Day, 2011. I am a blessed woman.</div>
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Proverbs 31:28, "Her children arise and call her blessed."</div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-47359148650277316282012-04-15T19:49:00.000-07:002012-04-15T19:58:25.411-07:00Tick, tock<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yesterday, I had one of those experiences that just makes time stand still. Takes your breath away and pulls you back in time. 23 years, to be exact.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">23 years ago in the middle of a slumber party. My sister and some friends and I decided to go tee pee and egg someone's house. These boys that lived around the block and were just rotten to us all the time. I'm sure we gave it back to them too, although those memories are pretty faded now. We headed over with a bunch of toilet paper, Hershey syrup and a carton of eggs. My sister and friends let their house and car have it. I hid under the car. I was brave that way. :)</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">After we were finished with our horrible mission, we headed back with a couple of eggs left in tow. There was another boy that lived on that block that one of the girls with us had a crush on forever. I have no idea why but we threw those eggs in his mailbox. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Months later he asked me, "Was that you?" I'm sure I giggled and mumbled something to the effect of, "Oh no, not me." Or something to that sort, I was pretty fearful of boys back in those days. He laughed and just said, "It was you." Totally good natured. He was just that kind of guy.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Soon after my family moved five hours away when my mom got married and I never knew what happened to him. Yesterday, I found out.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">He made a whole lot of friends. Became a contractor. Got married. Had 2 sweet little girls. Turned 37. And died yesterday in a terrible drowning accident that no one seems to be able to believe. And life just keeps on ticking for the people that are left. Tick, tock, tick, tock... It seems like it won't go on, but it does.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So many questions about how unfair life is. Why would God allow someone like this, someone who has a life and family, to die in such a horrible way. It's just devastating. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then I remember that we live in a fallen world. A broken world that is so desperately in need of a Savoir. Broken hearts, broken lives, hurt, devastation...it's all so sadly a part of our daily existence because this is not at all what God created us for. When Adam and Eve took that first bite and every time we take a bite of that proverbial apple, there is a disconnect with a God that created us in his image. A God that craves relationship with us, and we just keep getting in the way. So there is death. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f9fdff; color: #001320; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Yet you do not know what your life will be like tomorrow. You are just a vapor that appears for a little while and then vanishes away. James 4:14</span></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But that is not the end of the story friends. We can have life eternal with a God who wants reconciliation with us. He loves you. He loves me. He loved my classmate too. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: #f9fdff; color: #001320; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">We all, like sheep, have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. Isaiah 53:6</span></span></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If you have not made a commitment to this God that loves you and are interested in finding out more, please do not waste another moment. Life is just so short and we are not promised tomorrow. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Here is a great link to tell you more about it. <a href="http://www.areyouagoodperson.org/">http://www.areyouagoodperson.org/</a> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm praying for you, dear reader. I'm praying if not already, today would be your day of salvation.</span>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-16735619962206934022012-04-13T20:29:00.001-07:002012-04-14T18:17:06.472-07:00Ultimate Blog Party 2012<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGT3mx9W_WNmqzmFdQ5_8ikP9ekwj_AHWDJmcMwC3sPh6hmdmTndCtPkgv4Nak4t5gxl53wcjce_GHPo5t1rYb9p8Fg1WP6E1cMeNWkZUiaW4YvQ7q9STzLvRd7SzM994wjkFXfQ/s1600/UBP590x1501.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="81" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGT3mx9W_WNmqzmFdQ5_8ikP9ekwj_AHWDJmcMwC3sPh6hmdmTndCtPkgv4Nak4t5gxl53wcjce_GHPo5t1rYb9p8Fg1WP6E1cMeNWkZUiaW4YvQ7q9STzLvRd7SzM994wjkFXfQ/s320/UBP590x1501.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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Hello there and welcome to my little party inside <a href="http://www.5minutesformom.com/51797/ultimate-blog-party-2012/">the big party</a>! This is my 3rd or 4th party and I've always had a great time and found some awesome bloggers. I hope to have a chance to find many more this year!</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64oDxhQ7Rrs1PZoWSxz4p46wiqqAUMuW2elMO2RF6Ds7CU63vSr3lfk2vsBcY_dv3yw8Sg-rHlyXRcFRn3gMgtV0yuO7C0I1Al2vlYcKawMAHLGcH0zovHhy9JiNKzJXEMHAlaQ/s1600/amy+camera.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg64oDxhQ7Rrs1PZoWSxz4p46wiqqAUMuW2elMO2RF6Ds7CU63vSr3lfk2vsBcY_dv3yw8Sg-rHlyXRcFRn3gMgtV0yuO7C0I1Al2vlYcKawMAHLGcH0zovHhy9JiNKzJXEMHAlaQ/s320/amy+camera.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
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This is me, Amy. I'm usually the one with the camera in my hand. I love to take pictures and remember all the fun times in life. This year I'm also teaching a photography class to fifth and sixth graders at our local homeschool co-op. That's been lots of fun and taught me lots in the process.</div>
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This is my three year old daughter, Anna. She's full of life, laughter and fun. She's always into something new and she's always passionate. Anna brings lots of joy and hugs to our lives and we can't wait to see what she'll do next. She's our mechanically inclined daughter, the house comedian and a daddy's girl.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lAJexraobS1m-iF_F8Ubz9vbwTKluPvzZFtTQSy1YVxLK_jh5_j32en-KGSMC9I1_z_xag12neQEi4AN0EOg2YT1INfazlHA58Mg9CnUeeE50CxWJAfpydMa3RkRbK5g4QDjDQ/s1600/Lilla+chicken.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg9lAJexraobS1m-iF_F8Ubz9vbwTKluPvzZFtTQSy1YVxLK_jh5_j32en-KGSMC9I1_z_xag12neQEi4AN0EOg2YT1INfazlHA58Mg9CnUeeE50CxWJAfpydMa3RkRbK5g4QDjDQ/s320/Lilla+chicken.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
This is my six year old daughter, Lilla. I homeschool her in first grade this year. She is interested in everything pink, ballet and God. Lilla is always making us think with the things she says. She is very bright, very thoughtful and very interested in life.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-ZCUp1HFSt_UKFb_tS7I8z8OcyP3QCEthMadXluyRuqnmaItperWryPL1X-din9sE0EZxNDMGUPPBK_O9meoLlJd_P6mwG3zofH4WtCD-L03LY4hAwn1ktAmLZLoAAclBfh6Vw/s1600/curious+chicken.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhu-ZCUp1HFSt_UKFb_tS7I8z8OcyP3QCEthMadXluyRuqnmaItperWryPL1X-din9sE0EZxNDMGUPPBK_O9meoLlJd_P6mwG3zofH4WtCD-L03LY4hAwn1ktAmLZLoAAclBfh6Vw/s320/curious+chicken.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
We recently obtained 8 baby hens. They bring lots of entertainment to our house too. Particularly to our dog!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNj3HKummp7j4LVeMTMMHbwRj8VJF5OR4-BbNMt3sg30b_3ksxc2EOAWhvCiRW_PG6vObKQTViQQM8F1sRQiPML8r8JeXOWpOwJClJEiKzLIUZLn58xKBIJb4drrDZQHdehG-acQ/s1600/Spring+2012+126.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNj3HKummp7j4LVeMTMMHbwRj8VJF5OR4-BbNMt3sg30b_3ksxc2EOAWhvCiRW_PG6vObKQTViQQM8F1sRQiPML8r8JeXOWpOwJClJEiKzLIUZLn58xKBIJb4drrDZQHdehG-acQ/s320/Spring+2012+126.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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They are getting ready to be put in the hen house and I'm ready to have them out of my garage!<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-lLB6a2B3a8eEj18MWjCNVY5rIjP5VBllpHYh2OgnL2Aa1RUGfgQA6u-c4b5mpwoIRSa5ha2fXIANW7b80FOFMC3II9_YP1zWwt5UyjpQR70ICD8aTM7iIIe0Qy5dpfPfRS7sCQ/s1600/January+2012+003.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-lLB6a2B3a8eEj18MWjCNVY5rIjP5VBllpHYh2OgnL2Aa1RUGfgQA6u-c4b5mpwoIRSa5ha2fXIANW7b80FOFMC3II9_YP1zWwt5UyjpQR70ICD8aTM7iIIe0Qy5dpfPfRS7sCQ/s320/January+2012+003.JPG" width="320" /></a><br />
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We have had the privelage of homeschooling our children since the beginning. We are currently working on 1st grade with Lilla and preschool with Anna is just starting.<br />
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My girls are the heart of our home! They make our home come alive each and every day.<br />
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My husband, Michael, and I have been married for 8 years. He's a great guy that is a wonderful provider and friend. He loves God, his family and his country. My oldest is a mini me of my husband.<br />
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Our youngest is my mini me. <br />
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Now that you've been introduced to us, I'll tell you about my blog. I write when I have time, which doesn't seem like much lately. I like to write about the things though that make me think, make me laugh or that I think would be helpful to others. I also like to record special things in my kids lives.<br />
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I hope you will take a minute to say hi and let me know you stopped by so I can say hi to you too!Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com23tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-43863304299555778542012-04-05T09:04:00.003-07:002012-04-05T09:21:15.636-07:00So full.Ever just feel really grateful to God?<br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">This is why I haven't been blogging lately.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">This has what has been filling my days.</span><br />
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<span style="text-align: center;">This is why my heart feels so full.</span></div>
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<span style="text-align: left;">I hope your heart and life is full too!</span>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-85954351937833397452012-02-28T06:20:00.005-08:002012-02-28T06:53:36.416-08:00I would<div style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; text-align: left; ">Once a week we head over to our local home school co-op where Lilla learns with other kids her age subjects such as music, art, physical education and science. She loves to spend the time with the other children, learn some fun and new things and get to spend some time outside of these four walls.</span></div><div style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: normal; line-height: normal; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimy_Bl1rKCl0rPHsiMBMwuvbo6OGRYjOYb3t7uJYXZmIQClamw7d2CMRAOMcYZD9M8l4Q-0srityp74UZLVswjGvRrJqXUnKs0liq_g2BQLxXRH_m4qO25VM-6imaX07FEDdXZnQ/s320/February+2012+249.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714196710453683618" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></div><div><span><span style="font-size: 100%;">Last week as we were headed there I had a radio station on that was playing a sermon. The sermon was about forgiveness and how it could not only change the </span>forgiven<span style="font-size: 100%;"> but the forgiver. We didn't hear the whole sermon, as the venue where we meet is not that far from our house but the one part we did hear I remember quite distinctly. It was a story about a man who used to be a mediocre performer at work, very up and down and then he became exceptional. When another employee asked why he replayed a story from his own life. When he was in college he and some friends were playing a game of chicken with themselves and their cars. When it was his turn he was going 100 miles per hour and the other guys were to jump out of the way just in time. One of them didn't. He couldn't get the image out of his head. He dropped out of school, was troubled and never was able to be stable at work. Then one day everything changed. He heard a knock on the door. He answered it to a somewhat familiar woman whom he could not place. She stated she was that boy's mother. She just wanted to say she had forgiven him. It changed everything.</span></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">Of course, I started crying. Trying to control my tears I got out of the car and told Lilla we needed to go. She kind of stayed in her seat for a moment. After not moving I told her again we had to go or be late. She looked at me kind of curiously and then started to move toward the door. I hadn't realized she was listening to the program and wanted to hear more. She then simply stated, "I would have forgiven him too."</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzv58Zk74XRykioH4b6spUjBDaKmLhThR0Eh23u0a8gNzfyayNU1HteeaaxNOAG8606wYm9BMWfN4vC90CXaNf0Lkq3OaGrfaUQT53K5J5LHBbCEBf1I93gguB4L_IoPQ8Zb7BBw/s320/Lilla+pink+hat.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714196700422598306" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">I was taken aback and said, "You would forgive someone for killing your son, even accidently?"</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">She said, "I would. That is what God tells us to do, so, I would."</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">I know it seems simple and she is not a mother yet and can't understand what that means, but it is her simple heart of obedience that really floors me. She really has a heart to obey. When I asked her why she said, "Because I love God, so I obey him." </span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">When I ask her why she states, "God gives us rules because He loves us and he wants to keep us safe so we should obey them."</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><br /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">My prayer is that this love for God will not depart from her, she will never lose a heart that longs to serve a God that loves her. That, all of her days her heart will be moved toward a God that offers hope in despair, gives us strength when we are weak and meets all of our needs.</span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8SMANIOPYpd5J7EK2qHIl3FLScOEI1IfmTHWJlN1BPcqkOLfDyv-MbteE47JElGn0zZub8yiFS1Cc7TiWfKl1_qb3E0bi7Yk04KkQgdhE2tYRw2RRdD0NZvL6GQ9S2O8f6T5DXQ/s320/February+2012+296.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714196707473051138" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); font-family: 'Times New Roman'; font-size: medium; text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></div><div><span style="font-family: Georgia, serif; font-size: 100%; ">I hope that for you too.</span></div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-19012974880473460532012-02-07T16:26:00.000-08:002012-02-07T16:56:38.626-08:00Love is all you need<div style="text-align: center;"><span><br /></span></div><span>Tomorrow we are going to celebrate the birthday of my first born, my peanut, my little love. 6 years? What? I can't even process that right now. It was yesterday at this time I was laying in a hospital, waiting, and waiting and waiting for something, anything to happen. Yesterday.</span><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>Today one of her friends dropped by. Her best friend. The first thing out of Lilla's mouth was to remind her that her birthday was tomorrow. Her friend replied, "Oh, we haven't gotten you a present yet." Lilla's response? Classic Lilla, "That's ok. The best gift is love anyway."</span></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7n0H5KJbLvhvaz81lbGcgH5VuQmll-MvVGdv1ZobUiJIX-KD0UjLojvx7pM7V9qVKW-hjlzodI9z_R3E5H99Nppwwj_sVgdCoB-E6yXduMf8xuIMhJs6KQDUoKnykMFIggh5GMg/s400/Winter+2011+007.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706557149926478162" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 267px; height: 400px; " /><span><br class="Apple-interchange-newline"></span></div><div><span>And the most amazing part? She really means it. It's right from the heart. She wasn't trying to finagle or manipulate, it just rolled off her tongue. Beautiful words from a beautiful little lady.</span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>Luke 6:45 <span style="background-color: rgb(249, 253, 255); color: rgb(0, 19, 32); line-height: 21px; text-align: justify; ">The good man out of the good treasure of his heart brings forth what is good; and the evil man out of the evil treasure brings forth what is evil; for his mouth speaks from that which fills his heart.</span></span></div><div><span><br /></span></div><div><span>Happy birthday baby! May you be surrounded with love your whole life through!</span></div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-400267603167607592011-12-06T19:17:00.001-08:002011-12-06T20:23:01.160-08:00And such...<div style="text-align: left;">I keep wondering why it has been so long in between blog posts this year.</div><div><br /></div><div>I used to be so regular. </div><div><br /></div><div>I constantly had funny or interesting tales or insights (at least I thought they were) that I couldn't wait to share with the world. </div><div><br /></div><div>I loved sitting down and just writing away.</div><div><br /></div><div>So I'm left wondering, what happened to all of that cleverness. </div><div><br /></div><div>Then, I look around.</div><div><br /></div><div>There are school books, papers and videos stacked everywhere it seems.</div><div><br /></div><div>The dust is like an inch thick. </div><div><br /></div><div>My husband washed the dishes and Lilla commented that she didn't ever remember seeing our sink so empty.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anna just got potty trained. This week I say!! PARTY!! She still makes me go in the bathroom with her while she goes #2 though. That is oh so much fun and always at a convenient hour.</div><div><br /></div><div>We have to get in as many Santa visits as humanely possible. </div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEja_dz_juNLvsiSy72JQjZ3dd-GMwKBMCocZYJN8rsXM64V1rUoGkTNEgpdAeb-c5CpIrQXCKMR-usfSUOVTOpIboaCIjhMChByDEAKwpQUyhwVBZNfq4paaYOx7xsGfCqbEVVeEg/s400/377431_2717650988739_1480923700_2853843_1552839935_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683225706333714738" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>My husband just asked me today if I could make his whole team cookies and candy and other goodies for a Christmas thing on Friday. </div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, and there is that whole party thing going on in just a week and a half to celebrate the big 3!! Uh, I might want to plan that.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have a counselee that comes to see me every week. It still blows my mind that they let me do that. Seriously, me?</div><div><br /></div><div>I have things like letter blends and spelling rules made into silly little songs plastered in my brain that take over.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have to lay in bed with that soon to be 3 year old every night while we pet each others hair and sing praise and worship songs to each other.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgGly9mVduYdM0P1D4whomNzbc8bmIjnHVMs73u3WfolRijENC54NBKiAfBJ1uvX5S9Yw-i2XsjZWDa6pqlDb-UtEw5oixKI6R3qZcDJOeVI06sB_t1_VstDyZoW-B2_1qzH_rx2Q/s400/392122_2692351956279_1480923700_2846266_1346406257_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683226059779399794" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 213px; height: 320px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>I had a whole laundry basket of socks to try to match up today. It is shocking how many don't have a friend.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have an upper respiratory infection too that required a Dr. visit today.</div><div><br /></div><div>I have to teach a little person to read. This is much harder than it looks.</div><div><br /></div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYIvT1VYpjdxy4I-BmGoVmXnatNkrbL6h2nWa6WyM04XgCj_TG0pPKByS-RfefaUAY_s590O9W2kI1MUrMsKko0yJ42Z1gOIo7mFJVhNS9BXlSFacKyPjIn59JM0pOK7477XTQJA/s400/313268_2692344636096_1480923700_2846264_743733998_n.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5683226064147721858" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 213px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div><br /></div><div>Oh, and my bathroom looks like Toys R' Us hit it.</div><div><br /></div><div>I can't find the other ballet shoe.</div><div><br /></div><div>Let's not even mention the car...</div><div><br /></div><div>Huh, I wonder, why is it again I'm not blogging? :)</div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-41926057297870599082011-11-11T05:18:00.000-08:002011-11-11T05:38:29.982-08:00Alone<div style="text-align: left;">As homeschoolers, every Thursday morning we attend a co-op made up of about 80 families in our area. It ranges in ages from baby to senior in high school. All different types of classes are taught to the children, like art, foreign language, gym, science, the list goes on and on. It's nice for Lilla as she gets that social interaction in a classroom setting every week.</div><div><br /></div><div>The parents are all a part of teaching the classes. My bestie and I teach a class on photography for 5th graders. This is our first year so we are stumbling through it, but apparently the kids like it a lot and may be learning a thing or two as they go.</div><div><br /></div><div>One of the children in the class, a young man, has some different learning and behavioral issues he is learning to overcome. You know, we all have different ways of learning and coping, his just seem a little more pronounced in a classroom setting.</div><div><br /></div><div>Anyway, we are working on a project with the children to give to their parents as Christmas gifts. Last week we were going around the room asking the children what their parents would like a sign to say made of up letters. Some said faith, joy, family, the kids all came up with something different. </div><div><br /></div><div>When asked what this particular boy's mom would like he first of all struggled and then said, "She'd just like me to leave her alone."</div><div><br /></div><div>It's one of those moments you kind of just stop and try to catch your breath to say the right thing. You don't know what to say.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've thought about that moment several times since then. Even this morning as I was washing the dishes and Lilla came up for no reason but I could tell she wanted something. I was rushing to clean and just said, in a hurried way, "Lilla, if you need something just tell me." </div><div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJHodS4cZolC3stvUGojoZ80bgXN7_NnXT0HXxW_0qI4KpWtyUlNFbu7jOzgaigWxkOHgbPgOA11yhnwUvDkS3dusRVWHl1lqTrYLy354capRi6kXyxJcwyWY7w2gtkaowX_Xk1w/s320/IMG_3074.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673731250333914402" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div>She said she didn't need anything and just walked away. I thought back to this young man and wondered if my own children felt that way. As though I just want them to leave me alone. </div><div><br /></div><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm8mYsjwosmiI6FfoVs4lEa9XvTvoU3wtsk6Jk-z9qogUtsu-j2WN7eZN_zP76IP3Ac6-6XS-4w1KUnd64eTxQfWtnRl96pGXwLiA5on28U7vRDmnSMv61MPz9jQ-6Ojiizykr_w/s320/IMG_3062.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673731259198371090" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /><div> Sometimes through a particularly hectic day, when I am frazzled and pulled in a million different ways, that does feel to be the truth. However, I don't want them to ever feel that way. I want them to feel loved, cared for, at home in my arms.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsFTy4SAGixcVFaXD18qoews8hq81LTyVY75IUSWCZa3I2LBJkzHpm4DmtsoPi9SRStyPIquclUwzPS-tjfEJK1-iWCeMdrKWBmjYQn_mw5JDKzjdSvWOs5J4pB423xOZxfQfpug/s320/IMG_2967.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5673731765178886210" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></div><div><br /></div><div>I'm thinking of ways to make them feel that way today.</div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-23679669183011984932011-11-07T11:13:00.001-08:002011-11-07T11:23:57.457-08:00Twick o Tweat<div style="text-align: center;">I know it's a week late, but I must admit, I am usually a day late and a dollar short. Alas, here is a peek into our Halloween fun.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAypMSIZyb1ZIOMqR8_jAoCYHW20O1OoJIgsiEpjEnWZLlujPuN4zYj6S7hthNBThPvUFgmlqOVglo0oqKU0OoiLTl2TfIgPFwfRW-RUYWn5yZWUlpKinqXtI5jgc7g91STsBiIw/s1600/Halloween+2011+077.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAypMSIZyb1ZIOMqR8_jAoCYHW20O1OoJIgsiEpjEnWZLlujPuN4zYj6S7hthNBThPvUFgmlqOVglo0oqKU0OoiLTl2TfIgPFwfRW-RUYWn5yZWUlpKinqXtI5jgc7g91STsBiIw/s320/Halloween+2011+077.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672335748390815234" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQqNXyP7-Pp1p2loe-LIrDpmfsNOrI6Rg5yS1wYDP9V36IZVcSvfXpvwC2A5HHS9R_vPH8XyNZcoGLOIEBjO7ev0sc0APa3sIJH1OkvaffN11VwNUinZGl-Voi0AyMs2bK3ElA4w/s1600/Halloween+2011+065.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQqNXyP7-Pp1p2loe-LIrDpmfsNOrI6Rg5yS1wYDP9V36IZVcSvfXpvwC2A5HHS9R_vPH8XyNZcoGLOIEBjO7ev0sc0APa3sIJH1OkvaffN11VwNUinZGl-Voi0AyMs2bK3ElA4w/s320/Halloween+2011+065.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672335745556920578" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRW0lzuyDWOQaVJvn_xv9Xg6RY2D1fnQt0tGrEHWJdhlPUTO21aXoGwbtY2iWJ39-KjDbCfROOuG6uFUguAJgRPWs71nrO7HoCbPk24RFaEDhjc0dHE5Bn05XYLuVKU3FsF8JpdQ/s1600/Fall+2011+034.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRW0lzuyDWOQaVJvn_xv9Xg6RY2D1fnQt0tGrEHWJdhlPUTO21aXoGwbtY2iWJ39-KjDbCfROOuG6uFUguAJgRPWs71nrO7HoCbPk24RFaEDhjc0dHE5Bn05XYLuVKU3FsF8JpdQ/s320/Fall+2011+034.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672335737264720210" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_oCTU2qTQzPUFO5LefG38jpYpgknwTupNkn5B4oAKw4LtBi06rcMW_NWCwiTZ-AQ7pOoaX3sWaK4Pf6tXv8qeOHP-Dhbg7FTzuRN8L10OLK-mmwnpVouh229nQ0kF_jaG9GJhw/s1600/Fall+2011+041.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjz_oCTU2qTQzPUFO5LefG38jpYpgknwTupNkn5B4oAKw4LtBi06rcMW_NWCwiTZ-AQ7pOoaX3sWaK4Pf6tXv8qeOHP-Dhbg7FTzuRN8L10OLK-mmwnpVouh229nQ0kF_jaG9GJhw/s320/Fall+2011+041.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672335732446887538" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCtjKHHZlie18PLSmuPHQT7P9b6VRMECy_Itr3aMzAxXdE1wAD3SeeE3qXnD9sU3WYgG7PXpQpyMAsYC9zloImdzC8EzKK50-GTiHde6NMz-SAW0xEx-QsVmP-aEfN4rVl_TjDQ/s1600/Fall+2011+049.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjOCtjKHHZlie18PLSmuPHQT7P9b6VRMECy_Itr3aMzAxXdE1wAD3SeeE3qXnD9sU3WYgG7PXpQpyMAsYC9zloImdzC8EzKK50-GTiHde6NMz-SAW0xEx-QsVmP-aEfN4rVl_TjDQ/s320/Fall+2011+049.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672334999215939522" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiBxv5Q5sDxGKuJ1wLd2hECq9YkR3B8sai2LV0eUdRdr1iDt-_vO8H28e6QszOLx4IBaYgEa4LdniqyiIPwL35glHA7GeVw1oMpBs_yDRjXlp4J19HHnranHP12k2di6TBKlZpfA/s1600/Fall+2011+039.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiBxv5Q5sDxGKuJ1wLd2hECq9YkR3B8sai2LV0eUdRdr1iDt-_vO8H28e6QszOLx4IBaYgEa4LdniqyiIPwL35glHA7GeVw1oMpBs_yDRjXlp4J19HHnranHP12k2di6TBKlZpfA/s320/Fall+2011+039.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672334988268729010" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTf0jR8JEFlFhkl9KvoC-b3s4Vnf3hirhdIT9uXU1AN5GkSum4-Z2NGF2_1EsGAph42Trco-lWauWhIBZ2GVUKYoixEUpEqSMl7PM9-vjlH9D47RVR8BXFuwz_mYqVHRhXMHmReg/s1600/Fall+2011+017.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTf0jR8JEFlFhkl9KvoC-b3s4Vnf3hirhdIT9uXU1AN5GkSum4-Z2NGF2_1EsGAph42Trco-lWauWhIBZ2GVUKYoixEUpEqSMl7PM9-vjlH9D47RVR8BXFuwz_mYqVHRhXMHmReg/s320/Fall+2011+017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672334986195370130" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">What is Halloween without your posse?</div><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYXJp4XdNBCUgwHxoaiOtdjIaEfFpG8UxsUNLRMIDxBeOwAbzXxMqFqtC4lsJJMUm_2uM2jF4KnzWN75vFou5_N8W7i5SeHor1NUzBmnmYNfmPw3PiLWYZMdkTt_t-o4EBm6y1w/s1600/Fall+2011+003.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYYXJp4XdNBCUgwHxoaiOtdjIaEfFpG8UxsUNLRMIDxBeOwAbzXxMqFqtC4lsJJMUm_2uM2jF4KnzWN75vFou5_N8W7i5SeHor1NUzBmnmYNfmPw3PiLWYZMdkTt_t-o4EBm6y1w/s320/Fall+2011+003.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672334975748871346" /></a><div style="text-align: center;">Trying to get my annual on the porch picture. There are MANY more like this. </div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDgL7RNkQXZP9lI29FFMP0w4Ml70Q5pP1QALkIKlroy3fvmfz28vJkVGbq69RrF_Dfji1ydcBHiqV9ZjyP4CNRnP-tus_yFCnJ0eVLfpVFCu5uW2aJFmnCw2YhFIYq6usxKPCSA/s1600/Fall+2011+010+%25282%2529.JPG" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZDgL7RNkQXZP9lI29FFMP0w4Ml70Q5pP1QALkIKlroy3fvmfz28vJkVGbq69RrF_Dfji1ydcBHiqV9ZjyP4CNRnP-tus_yFCnJ0eVLfpVFCu5uW2aJFmnCw2YhFIYq6usxKPCSA/s320/Fall+2011+010+%25282%2529.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672334970707988386" /></a><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghTBN21I4VTP2XKl6xVjhE4pMfdw1ZEKh9yQ1Ns6EseYAo5eGY4AICJ-7wRUAnU2rG-ux3gm6-kGgycMC5Aj-5lOTDSQGa5SLg7qh9aiBbxtt70Og_Uk4Ur_FBuaDW2ojmLIw8fw/s320/Halloween+2011+119.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5672335759320409858" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); text-decoration: underline; display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /><div style="text-align: center;">This last picture I had to share because Lilla likes to put her full self into everything...ha!</div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-28810224296063799402011-10-27T20:36:00.000-07:002011-10-27T22:04:49.761-07:00My heart<div style="text-align: left;">It's been a million years since I've blogged.</div><div><br /></div><div>Summer has turned to Autumn.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLv9mKjG1TJYhBUU6lVqX7ypHFRMIpc_qOfUZhFe0f1mAiYyjQtjiVeWqnjcnKQj-3oE-Zd_yxpv26Uhr9663UiWKQ1njum1tMFovfn3VG34LtQ7xXidKm0MSZ3SGqsAjbnavrYQ/s320/fall1.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668403515269114354" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>So we went to the Smokey Mountains.</div><div><br /></div><div>Where our hearts are always home.</div><div><br /></div><div>My husband took a much needed break.</div><div><br /></div><div>To see the changing of the leaves.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5-UMZYSz2mYn2EKukgvjcn3yrbuxTd1oSSWuKGKTVCm7jW_8T19We21kGydrBuQrid_vNKJL6OBrY36S1VEmFVrJYBsnuh2xsmTUk0QX5Ezw59V3PNMpV1J_qD8MRQHTQDiBKrw/s320/fall+6.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668403500415482834" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>They were stunning.</div><div><br /></div><div>And decided to never go back again this time of year. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKNSLALJVCb7wNqryA9Lc2Jc9Yj5pN4eU5tWHJJ9K3HIYkoXark2VV_Via5-SDE3sP7Ws32WfxSpiDHc-vXF8nW0XI_aTsZwGkurqVXt6p-cSn0sgjPED7Lh115VGytuYm7dFxpA/s320/fall+5.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668403496981487554" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 214px; height: 320px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>It was beautiful, yes, but the busiest time of year. Who knew?</div><div><br /></div><div>We went on hikes.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5vuMfaHJwS-No-rpyww0hqm2CCKOGmko1dN0zzi0WkChdGWaptVAV2Yv18odANJC9wIgzzgAzi4GiiUEseX2TSKRm3mjA5q6gRVl_s-9-hEROAYzRwSTKf39Wqq9fGhj0Dhvpgw/s320/fall+4.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668403509976046770" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 197px; height: 320px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>And spent copious amounts of time in a car.</div><div><br /></div><div>We took deep breaths as we let our kids, literally, run up the side of a mountain. </div><div><br /></div><div>We watched our two year old take in all that was amazing in her mind. "Mama, mama, MOUNTAIN!!"</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhJlgVYOxxIcF_hI6_TDkiWrdPa8atMVJ6OrOMb2fDHdt0m3XaFqjFU1JMuBhJsoPeLssW0XQVwyDpS78-YiGxd1fcZ2skNDDWdVAWgjoWVV5UNuNNf7Sa_Zk6vOO14vEHkDLJcxQ/s320/Aquarium+family.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668404294809816274" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>We got to have sharks swim just inches above our heads.</div><div><br /></div><div>We mooed out the windows at cows and maaaaaaed at the goat we couldn't help but name Billy.</div><div><br /></div><div>And my two year old rode her first roller coaster and couldn't get enough!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiuJ7eJAnoV8iMoPvyaHlUBw7yahL04fOkDD5gYOGKyD2lBcs-J2sEbkT4FHw_tJfR8CTBoZEyeqXlsaE3bKQmkFVM2Pj_5C4cFvtMcQH1_xYl0gTaIgOYhEb6iyrxGP173YCnaxQ/s320/fall+1-2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668404296525211362" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>We got to do a lot of hands on homeschooling.</div><div><br /></div><div>And tried repeatedly to get a family picture. Oh my.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFUgnOxzFGXtkfOxXfW_YzkRocI1Qck7W2UQxq6oi91mY2S319fAqrQajNOC4lsOMuVJHVn32vBvlViiQXQYXSh2DIEg69OHhpyY6gLMbVA84UTp3IhP4jtEKfSGl5ChfWIRqkcg/s320/fall2.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668403516787388066" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>My 5 year old made up songs about Jesus for my dad.</div><div><br /></div><div>I saw my brother for the first time in a year and a half. </div><div><br /></div><div>My children fell in love with him.</div><div><br /></div><div>My heart melted.</div><div><br /></div><div>I snapped a picture of my husband and I on a hike. </div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhT9J8g8wkaD4EATzy4iJVERWCxaMUemNZCkUelJASQGFcd7OYma61tzDsmuLEUIhSnOEx3LMOJ7JO89Cxc03nhsgFYCemeR_rDWauQz_yUxkSkhR1eeo7LUCiXXnmmlqfY8H2p2Q/s320/fall+3.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668404040869912914" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><br /></div><div>We look happy. </div><div><br /></div><div>My heart smiled.</div><div><br /></div><div>Then Sunday came and we had to say good-bye to our beloved Tennessee.</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtlun3_DXqQCuM434iy94Ia7eernIGlXrBAwNgLShtdoUCLOSgVHFFPG2bYnyDH7pmE2hqxE0f3b2H4V6hrFzSutG56kiuKAY0QLgIFMiqBrw7aDnF9k8Bq5_k3IlIAfL3iBRdjA/s320/fall+barn.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5668404298730028146" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px; height: 214px; " /></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></span></div><div>Indiana was calling us home again.</div><div><br /></div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-72577917317361866172011-10-05T03:48:00.000-07:002011-10-05T04:11:51.014-07:00I choose the whale<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div>In a time when I'm just feeling kind of blah and like weight is such a focus and a struggle, this really hit home for me. Someone posted it on facebook and I thought it was beautiful. What are your thoughts?<div><br /></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span class="caption"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" id="id_4e8c34d1523502685192809" style="display: inline;">A while back, at the entrance of a gym, there was a picture of a very thin and b<span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;">eautiful woman. The caption was "This summer, do you want to be a mermaid or a whale?"<br /><br />The story goes, a woman (of clothing size unknown) answered the following way:<br /><br />"Dear people, whales are always surrounded by friends (dolphins, seals, curious humans), they are sexually active and raise their children with great tenderness.<br />They entertain like crazy with dolphins and eat lots of prawns. They swim all day and travel to fantastic places like Patagonia, the Barents Sea or the coral reefs of Polynesia.<br />They sing incredibly well and sometimes even are on cds. They are impressive and dearly loved animals, which everyone defend and admires.<br /><br />Mermaids do not exist.<br /><br />But if they existed, they would line up to see a psychologist because of a problem of split personality: woman or fish?<br />They would have no sex life and could not bear children.<br />Yes, they would be lovely, but lonely and sad.<br />And, who wants a girl that smells like fish by his side?<br /><br />Without a doubt, I'd rather be a whale.</span></div></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span class="caption"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /></span></div></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMBRh9qFDDhB6xtBePbXqNvcA3-j6ob_5oyYu13CTW2cf-v4WjUORpTULTHOmjI4O_8h-C4ZMzE3Je22BeRnRSAL2P5WWQHlxrxrv1YSE8YLsWuhg4VKpd7eKwXpXo2ubz6rxRpg/s400/whale_classic.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5659963409569536242" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 303px; height: 234px; " /></span></div><div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" ><span class="Apple-style-span">(from </span><a href="http://www.guy-sports.com/humor/videos/whales.htm">http://www.guy-sports.com/humor/videos/whales.htm</a>)</span></div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span class="caption"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br />At a time when the media tells us that only thin is beautiful, I prefer to eat ice cream with my kids, to have dinner with my husband, to eat and drink and have fun with my friends.<br /><br />We women, we gain weight because we accumulate so much wisdom and knowledge that there isn't enough space in our heads, and it spreads all over our bodies.<br />We are not fat, we are greatly cultivated.<br />Every time I see my curves in the mirror, I tell myself: "How amazing am I ?! "</span></div></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span class="caption"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /></span></div></span></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="background-color: white; color: grey; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 11px; line-height: 14px;"><span class="caption"><div class="text_exposed_root text_exposed" style="display: inline;"><span class="text_exposed_show" style="display: inline;"><br /></span></div></span><div class="mts uiAttachmentDesc translationEligibleUserAttachmentMessage" style="color: grey; margin-top: 5px; word-wrap: break-word;"><div><div class="fsm fwn fcg" style="color: grey; font-size: 11px;">By: <span class="uiAttachmentDetails" ft="{"type":12}" style="color: #333333;"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/kwebekwe" style="color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; text-decoration: none;">Delphine Fieberg</a></span></div></div></div></span><div><br /></div><div>Yes, I do believe the ending of this is cheesy. I'm not going to be looking in any mirrors saying how fabulous I am, but I like the point of enjoying life and not always worrying about the amount of calories I'm eating. Life is too short! I think I'll have Bananas and Nutella for breakfast!</div><div><br /></div></div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-37746100117427108402011-09-02T14:46:00.000-07:002011-09-02T14:46:39.913-07:00A day in the lifeToday I went swimming.<br />
<br />
It was 99 degrees here.<br />
<br />
And I hosed down my rooster who I thought might be too hot.<br />
<br />
I fed my child peas and pudding and popcorn.<br />
<br />
I was apparently on a P kick. <br />
<br />
I ate Coconut Cream Pie ice cream for breakfast.<br />
<br />
I have a sore throat. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.<br />
<br />
I homeschooled my 5 year old. <br />
<br />
We read Fancy Nancy.<br />
<br />
And picked some green beans.<br />
<br />
I froze zucchini for the winter.<br />
<br />
And got a coupon text for a $1.99 Banana Split. Maybe my throat needs that too.<br />
<br />
I shaved my legs with a dull razor because I didn't want to get the floor wet.<br />
<br />
And accidentally conditioned my hair twice.<br />
<br />
I talked to my sister about her morning.<br />
<br />
And rubbed my dog's belly.<br />
<br />
I vacuumed the carpet and swept the floor.<br />
<br />
I didn't make my bed.<br />
<br />
I played bejeweled on facebook.<br />
<br />
And tickled my daughter's toes.<br />
<br />
All part of a day in my life.<br />
<br />Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-55905703187389618892011-08-22T04:37:00.000-07:002011-08-22T04:52:20.049-07:00The mothership<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>For several years now, on any given Sunday, if you had needed to find me there would have been one place to start...Borders. It was a little haven for me on Sundays while my husband and kids had some family time with his parents and siblings to just recharge for the week, find a comfy chair and read...whatever.<div>
<br /></div><div>I have always loved Borders. So unpretentious. So full of cheap books. So perfect for spending hours and hours lost in reading.</div><div>
<br /></div><div>Yesterday I went there for what may be the last time. Looking like this. It was all yellow.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhksq9ySbLOjqBF7t1BXtAW9KaYzDRN238nKpSpoJuY2wSpFiCsg37NzugGTCJXUx4BwCVLQ3a66e_6awpAnniU9_JArbdUhekLhNNBtCgeBXFP6GwT5UFjT2M-ICHhv9TJNEC7SQ/s400/Summer+2011+154.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5643645521023816498" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Seriously depressing.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">I still spent a good two hours there. Although there are no more yummy treats waiting to be discovered in the cafe. No more comfy chairs to be curled up in. No more of the latest magazines to peruse. </span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">Like I said, depressing.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">My husband texted asking if I had found something I was supposed to be looking for in town that day. I told him I hadn't. I had gone to two stores, hadn't found it and then the mothership had called me home.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span">I didn't even need to say Borders, he knew. My mothership.</span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">
<br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="-webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">I'm sure going to miss her...</span></div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-40844691544837136422011-07-27T06:59:00.001-07:002011-07-27T07:37:47.899-07:00I could complain<div style="text-align: center;">Today as I wandered around my vegetable garden I noticed that my zucchini stems were starting to rot, the green beans were extremely scarce and the tomatoes weren't growing. I started complaining in my heart about how I really wanted the vegetables to fill my freezer and save us money this winter. Then I was reminded of all the zucchini, green beans and green peppers I had just this morning vacuum sealed and tucked away for just such an occasion, and this occurred to me.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoNxdY0rG9vPoSBHOfvojEMEtXUXUjU3-1c7Tm9bukdm5JgaDUPbPYocwT5-SsYq2rbifDpNqPvwqv0fgNMqlSsr96h1c3D5XSmKRI7TqCX8TmwKN-_adCHIRjdc5WjZbp2DGLpw/s400/IMG_9174.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5634036458080873586" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 267px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>I could complain about my garden not producing like I'd like,</div><div>Or I could be grateful that it's produced at all.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could complain about the heat index in July,</div><div>Or I could be grateful for my air conditioned escape.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could complain about my 5 year old's second ear infection this summer,</div><div>Or I could be grateful we live in 2011 where there are medicines and she can keep her hearing.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could complain about my husband's new shift,</div><div>Or I could be grateful he has a job.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could complain that my grass is all brown,</div><div>Or I could be grateful I have a yard.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could complain that we have no money in the bank,</div><div>Or I could be grateful for ways God has provided.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could complain that my house is a mess after I cleaned it yesterday,</div><div>Or I could be grateful that God has given me two little mess makers.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could complain that my body does not want to let go of fat cells,</div><div>Or I could be grateful that I have food in my fridge and dinner on the table.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could complain that I'm tired all the time,</div><div>Or I could be grateful God has given me a life to experience and the capability to experience.</div><div><br /></div><div>I could complain about the amount of laundry there is to do,</div><div>Or I could be grateful that God has blessed us with plenty.</div><div><br /></div><div>I've learned, it's all a matter of perspective.</div><div><br /></div><div>What about you, are you complaining or grateful today?</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: arial, helvetica, clean, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 16px; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span"><b>1 Thessalonians 5:18 No matter what happens, always be thankful, for this is God's will for you who belong to Christ Jesus. </b></span></i></span></div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-47350450873230325152011-07-22T06:04:00.001-07:002011-07-22T06:19:41.741-07:00My 5 year old and the gospel<div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div>This morning, as I was finishing my hair, Lilla came in the bathroom as she had to "go". She was silent for a moment and then this conversation took place:</div><div><br /></div><div>Lilla: Mom, God hates sin.</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: He does. How do we know that?</div><div><br /></div><div>Lilla: The Bible says it. He hates sin every little bit.</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: That's true.</div><div><br /></div><div>Lilla: And he loves us so much. He loves us so much he died on the cross. He died a lot on the cross for us.</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: He did die on the cross, but we have hope. Do you know why we have hope?</div><div><br /></div><div>Lilla: Because He rose again. He told everybody that He would and He did. The bad guys didn't want Him to and didn't believe Him when He said He would, but He did.</div><div><br /></div><div>Me: Now that's the truth!</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4zBB0CSrhvbC5pS0pr8Sl4f1hnVzRWzOlFWxpGKUw9NkdfcTWo2c7cTNn2NYtdsEaEy8k7y8RX7KByb9Mhlq60isfjjhAYN4c-1oQIXB4bwXcRahCfOUyyP7o6xsR-R3mhRleQw/s400/210185_1963708220641_1480923700_2174090_7198703_o+%25281%2529.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5632165686275026306" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 266px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Think your 5 year old can't "get it"? Yes they can!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 21px; "><i><span class="Apple-style-span">Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these. Matthew 19:14</span></i></span></div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-44955923012322831722011-07-11T09:56:00.000-07:002011-07-11T13:13:53.187-07:00A Little About Haiti<div style="text-align: left;">Heading off to missions, you never fully know what to expect. You have to be willing to go with an open heart and mind, just being willing to let God work through you and in you. If that is your attitude, you can't help but be changed as your world view starts to open up.</div><div><br /></div><div>I saw that again last month as I travelled to a completely new world to me, Haiti. </div><div><br /></div><div>The people wore much the same clothes, as they had mostly been sent from America as donations over the years. Their shoes, when they wore them, were often what we would wear as well, only very often too small for their feet and worn down. Often times people go barefoot though, playing soccer, walking down the road, making their way through the market. Many cannot afford a pair of shoes so they just go without. Just a way of life.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMbSHmVBXD_QDSfqwR_zsZn2lKq8wg5epFEDVpFYSyDoqY8KFtXdbVcDc09k33evoh2NFkycSn7mtBnJyy9DfszS08O1ZANkvYRmCPE4jMxI4PseNTw8Od4kRn1lEi6UydQrasBg/s400/Haiti+2011+077.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628186923113647250" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>The food is all cooked over charcoal. Most is fried and there is very little meat in any of the dishes. If there is meat it is usually goat. The main substances are corn maize (mush), rice and beans. People eat twice a day, breakfast and an early dinner. It usually is a pile of rice or corn maize with a few beans on the top. Many only eat once a day and they are grateful for even that. They often work long hours trying to sell anything they can find on the street just to be able to buy that plate of food. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDuK4SHAwfjwArge3eauXEUSRIjoTNKNxd-S5Hk3fBr88A45AqTd9hClYax5ix3JFB04aO8QcjAyGIRpw_s-P9NezA_LSIiU-yH4MNk0LFLZfbFu3vVJjo4T5zwxIhdYFqLZpMtw/s400/Haiti+2011+017.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628149578999965058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></span></div><div>Most do not have electricity or running water, which is why the cholera outbreak spread so fast and furious. People go to rivers to wash their clothes, wash their bodies, use the bathroom and get water for cooking, drinking and cleaning. Yes, all the same water. Thankfully, there are some community wells being put in place so people are able to get clean water. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhkCvHOq6e-9jwWhwAXNeQEhYzh47CDaHJdFY8qGf-IGlSEN9g1MbdYRAC-0IdwO-VujM4WQG6CbcwSXJPOfU5dpJT_s9zPoW6Nln0DJZZvvuLnB1Qmwv0bURs0LQhjUJBjZBb0sg/s400/Haiti+2011+391.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628186938044119362" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>In Port au Prince, everywhere you look there are tent cities. It literally looks like people are camping, and camping right on top of the next tent, as far as you can see. It's not like our camping where you have a lot, a hook up, a place to park your vehicle, trees all around. Nothing like that at all. Just huge parking lots covered in tents, end to end.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbsbacE48CpriAT4e_muVla3YgzF0DvtA_wrQciyejafpa_4CSL8YZzKOOuLIFPj27PMplydXiCBwyuJPtReEEqeb-WKZhzeVQiYB3K2FJN7rdjecHxrulh7MVMs5tPEyWChXapA/s400/Haiti+2011+006.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628186931319141522" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></span></div><div>In the towns away from Port au Prince many live on top of each other in brick one room homes. They are probably about 8 x 8 size rooms where there is enough room for a bed and a dresser. The bathroom and the kitchen are outside. Both loosely used terms as the bathroom is a hole in the ground and the kitchen is a charcoal "grill" of sorts. There is no fridge, no sink, no 6 burner stove. Just a grill in the outdoors where women literally stand for hours every day cooking whatever they can find to cook.</div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiS5nR6-Yuiy78OLRDAe46LYaOs1EQVLnRmsdEmo6hXUXbHcXqaqLtM8vOSoPCDiqAOFaH7h1IxQLxjkKs5xbmmaTZT79MSeh6flscEhKTW3tNgc221jh00R53HXJi5RLDKpS9lAg/s400/Haiti+2011+436.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628189612534176130" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 225px; height: 400px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>The people gather everywhere you look. Outside on itty bitty porches, on streets where they are trying to sell things like used clothes, used cookware and beat up cans of food. There are also markets where you can go to buy and sell things, live animals are slaughtered in front of perspective buyers and voodoo doctors roam around trying to drum up business.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjn4mTxhlmhIpF6FeRJ4QJ4ZngURrf5kgW_BpEfghxlkKZ9qUr2NGoqOwqs2fOHWg1uiIqiKWVadVLLJ-G0wHVT8jXG3x1HlMbIszEH0LrFDTRum7mvA6XT9RXrZiyCyf_u4RH9wg/s400/Haiti+2011+465.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5628150417915571058" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; ">To be continued...</span></div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13145676.post-7317189402163100402011-07-09T21:36:00.000-07:002011-07-09T21:57:57.533-07:00Childhood Dream<div style="text-align: center;">Growing up, I attended a CMA church in a Western Suburb of Chicago. There was a constant flow of missionaries from all over the world coming in and out the door. They would talk about places in South America or Asia or Europe and I remember just looking at them in wonder thinking, I'm going to do that someday.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMke3q1MQ9OjR3YHE_d6zUrdv7jb-J0MzP8k7u8KznANWWBkkKa052c92EOm3EGMVrB3Lh8ok1R41wdiohb3GLeaKxjLn9unWQKtWZAP1IyY2WAANfZbqw7alGzgbBFk1LzBe5Zw/s400/Summer+2011+175.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627583297307444626" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Oddly I had this strange vision of being in some type of ski lift, riding around to the places I would go. I have no idea why I envisioned this. There was no snow involved, I was just riding around on it. I have no idea either why I remembered this and it has nothing to do with the story, but there you have it. Missions, me, a ski lift. Um, ok.</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjsbXNT8ddCinbwk0xlYtwI0mCAo76zh2ZcX-JMebWoEu9LahMGKlcwHhC7ZAR2woLutrxTtQzS25eh-_rFckrJ4jN07sleWOTizno0yXZnXFOJgsC-GpcjapKT-QbhW-hUzCsh7A/s400/Summer+2011+120.JPG" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627583132979512146" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 225px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Ever since that time missions has had a special place in my heart and anytime I hear about a trip I am the first one to raise my hand (often in my heart) to say, "Send me Lord!"</div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-vRRBl8zSfcycaa58B4UBx7d_luwg7kvzq530y3WwSdQ_8E70o3cWj-u2VYwddxMTW_DG0uYhDljCL3I2bGc4NFTBmEPfG0cWBlHIO8Ls6WXYQG5APh56zQ5S8psrA8FSSJ3Bbw/s400/259595_1834114454444_1287917529_2313509_2796823_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627582720302140674" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>I have been blessed in so many ways to go to France, Hungary twice and last month, Haiti, to share the gospel and God's love. I believe all those years ago, God was building a desire in my heart and mind to go and reach the nations. He knew what He was doing in the mind of that little girl. </div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><img src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgdkvu_JeROtC8L8UrWoJ4q7AwrhYfKudM9spoQczapF-cKfzeOmwKsPijCKfgDvd0JzqR64VkD6vP03Ng9O-aGW7pCdftzozAwAdS-8uTyeObTQQPmAG4mav8xZwEoZfZObQazjw/s400/272268_1834126774752_1287917529_2313530_3133543_o.jpg" border="0" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5627582284603855122" style="display: block; margin-top: 0px; margin-right: auto; margin-bottom: 10px; margin-left: auto; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 400px; height: 300px; " /></span></div><div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 238); -webkit-text-decorations-in-effect: underline; "><br /></span></div><div>Thank you God, for making my childhood dream come true!</div><div><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;">Jeremiah 29:11 "For I know the plans I have for you", declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a HOPE and a FUTURE!"</div>Amy's Blah, Blah, Blogginghttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14957095369122295010noreply@blogger.com0